the enormity of cupcakes and bunnies

some experiences are just too big, too powerful to reduce to the limitations of the written word. this is partially why i haven't written much lately. everything has just been so intense, so otherworldly, so big. language could never do this moment justice.

the moment ended less than an hour ago with a bus station goodbye straight out of the most heart-wrenching 80's movie ever produced. but there are no goodbyes, only see-you-laters. an ending opens up into a new beginning. just the beginning of something even more magical, something even bigger.

i bet most of the people you know enjoy busrides

in southern new hampshire it got cold after the sunset. cold in a way that i haven't felt in months, that first sensation that the summer has begun to recede. the days getting shorter, the fall looming in the near future. i learned that there are two kinds of people in this world: those that enjoy busrides and those who don't. burn collector #13 entertained me on the ride home this afternoon, after the anxiety produced by the greyhound being 45 minutes late. al burians tales of travel misadventures in germany, after a much-feared family reunion there, made me like i had gone through more than the 90 minute ride from keene to northampton. there was the brief stop in greenfield in which i got off the bus to hand my brother an envelope only to get right back on, but it wasn't that eventful beyond that sketchy act. now, i'm happy to be home. ready for another adventurous weekend after a nice contemplative get away.

complete control

woke up this morning craving the clash, knowing it would be a good day. it was a gut feeling. now i have this nice block of time to be alone in my bedroom, to confront the things i have been avoiding for weeks, months, years. laundry drying downstairs, the clash on my turntable. i put a new E string on my neglected guitar and it wasn't even on my to-do list. my arms and fingers just made it happen, as if it was a physical need like drinking water or defacating. this summer needs music! i flip the record over for the third time and anticipate a fun night ahead.

saturday night theater

tonight we celebrated the 3 year birthday of valley free radio. it was this week 3 years ago that the station went on the air during the grassroots radio conference and barnraising facilitated by the prometheus radio project. we sat along the canal in holyoke squinting our eyes, pretending we were in venice for a night. veggie meatballs and frozen cream puffs on the grille. tomorrow is a performance of the taming of the shrew at heather's farm in the berkshire's, featuring a number of evolution characters, blueberry-picking-brunch, and the cafe will be closed to accomodate the show. another anniversary was passed recently, that being my one year working there. honestly, i never thought it would last this long. i'd like to find something new before the year's end but it is so comfortable and mindless. but on the downside...it's so comfortable and mindless. i receive e-mails about ak press hiring again and i fantasize about the bay area. but really, all i can think about is west philly. drool, drool...

in my secret place

i want to take you far from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth...

the sappiest indie-pop songs make so much sense right now, like they're in synch with the pulse in my left wrist. really, i'm just happy that my bike was where i left it last night after the rain began. it's always a gamble leaving it downtown after sunset. my heart skipped a beat as i turned that corner only to find it leaning against the street sign, a little wet but still fully alive. abandoned but forgiving, ready to ride again. it's gonna be a good day. i can feel it.

playgrounds

i could've been in new york city today, rescuing long-lost bicycles from brooklyn alleyways; or in brattleboro, vermont reading anonymously in coffeeshops and climbing mountains with local superheroes. but instead i'm just here, breathing. i'm wiping the cobwebs off of the growing pile of adult responsibilites multiplying on top of my desk. well, at least in theory. i'm actually sitting in the lamest cafe in town with a dozen other alienated souls, all secretly hoping that one of us will sink each other's electronic battleships. then we could all escape this strange, artificial keyboarded and flat screened world for something fresher, something that we can actually taste and smell.

i'm facing a wall of greeting cards and i think about all of the belated greetings i should be sending across the country. i haven't forgotten about you. i'm just lazy. really, i still care. in simpler times we could just leave cryptic messages on poles and 'spaceship' walls on the playground. two sets of initials added together, sketched into the paint and metal, surrounded by hand-drawn penises and titles of 80's movies. we were part of a secret club that never had to rely on hallmark logos or fancy fonts.

we returned there last night and proudly added our own messages to this twisted tapestery of scribbles and lewd comments. time stopped. and every whisper pierced our ears, as we lay there just waiting to get caught.

ambush august

july is over and so far this new month, labeled ambush on my nikki mcclure calendar, has relentlessly deprived me of alone time. things have been really exciting but i need to stop and think in order to fuel everything else. but i can't get enough of it all. sometimes i'll give myself a quick thought break by spending a little extra time in the bathroom to sing a song in the mirror, or i'll show up early to the after-party and just lie down in the middle of the street watching shooting stars. these are the moments that sustain the passion.