axis tiltage!

36th Ave.  

exclamation point gait! lift yer damn feet, people! 

raven prints. 

at the Spenard train tracks. 

sexy, mysterious snow-cling on the trail from Spenard. 

6th and I. these are rooms where nefarious deeds should occur! the one on the left even has a bare light bulb! I dig the overall starkness almost as much as the grotty room painted entirely in Awfully Obnoxious Blue. 

holy shit, world. 

this rack is at Sears. 

happy solstice! my head still aches. I was drinking wine that had an actual cork. 

the blurry homemade potholder of infamy! 

well, not really infamy. unless you're using it to pick up a hot cauldron of sacrificial goat's blood, or something. 

in that case, you'd probably want a darker color, or a busier pattern. 

live it up, buttercup.

the problem I had with Washington's winters: the MONOTONY. soldiering through six months of grey bullshit with a 15 degree fluctuation is far more daunting than the constant orgy of luridity anchorage tosses out. it is impossible to be bored here. 

...it's impossible to be bored here for now, to clarify. I am an easily bored person, because I lack inherent motivation and creativity. this optimistic fiddle-dee-fuck can change dramatically by, say, February. 

Benson and C, -6F with a refreshing northerly breeze. I applied strawberry Chapstick whilst stumbling elegantly; the only part of me that was actually cold was my face, and I had a vague sensation of my eyes watering dramatically before freezing to themselves. I couldn't feel my skin, much less my lips. and I thought "aww yeah! fuck yes for MUSCLE MEMORY!" 

Anchorageites and their capricious attitude towards footwear! I say. maybe there's a sound chip within this boot that describes the strange and exotic trajectory that led it to this lonely bench on an ass-cold afternoon. 

sleep deprivation 

thirty-six hours til solstice 

time to eat more salt

the snow is currently reminding me of a young girl applying makeup for the first time. it's silly and over the top and breathtakingly innocent. 

"people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

-Maya Angelou 

24 comical hours

4th Avenue. note the ice-phallus on the lamp. 

the railroad tracks off 36th and the 1pm sunshine. 

I left the lair/ with the wettest of hair. 

4pm from the 18th floor of the Captain Cook. 

classy as fuck, y'all. 

often dreaming of trains

my porch. 

the overpass near Turnagain. 

the flowering spider plant! 

someone went nuts at the downtown transit center. everyone milling around in the snow commented on it appreciatively. 

the dank salt aisle of Carrs. 

the shit-car and her peeling door panel-thing catching snow. 

my neighbor offered to tow the bean away for free. he teaches mechanics at one of the schools and they'd gleefully dismantle her engine. it would be like a completely unlikable human being donating their body to science! redemption! 

this is the sort of atmosphere in which love letters get mentally composed. 

I mean, good lord, Anchorage. 

the crane poised to dismantle the building beneath it. a 50 year old structure is considered old here, so this saddens me. 

6th & I.

SNOW SNOW SNOW! 

my adductors are throbbing. 

"you make it hard for a nice girl to say no."

"well then, if it's so hard, don't say it."

-James M Cain 

Spenard.

it's another beautiful day. obviously. 

the puce bruise of optimism

people lose solitary gloves here. there's the latex one that's still mashed into the trail near the post office on Minnesota; I now look for it like a Nordic beacon when I'm walking. this one is like a furious face-fist on today's Spenard sidewalks. 

this is how fucking icy it is here. note the meekly scattered gravel. this is from last week at the bus stop at 36th & Lake Otis. now there are fully blackened swaths of pebbly traction- no more fucking around. 

1. my new cleats are FUCKING AWESOME.

2. last night there was a snow-removal convoy grinding up and down Wisconsin St (and visible from my lair). I'd forgotten about these operations! they're kind of soothing; they signify freedom and greater mobility... and it allows me to pretend i still live in a big city. a few trucks pulled onto my dark little street and I thumbs-upped them from my window; I thought they were finally sanding the ice. they were not. they were dumping snow at the dead-end.  

3. seriously, cleats ROCK. 

at the show over the weekend. I took this in the dark from my weird little corner. I liked the embracing happening. 

and one of the patrons was carrying a wee dog wearing a sweater. 

sexy, mysterious Minnesota Blvd. 

there's somebody in the corner! on the floor! I didn't even walk over to see if they were alive. the store was otherwise empty. who were they with? why were they there? how long had it been? I kept my distance to prolong the mystery... now I kind of hope they're okay. 

tonight, from the bus. someone ran into the wall outside the courthouse. 

...and oh yeah! on another bus earlier today I saw two moose jogging down Northern Lights by the Fred Meyer. just trotting. they didn't seem too hackled or frantic. everyone looked out the window with nonchalant yet appreciative expressions. 

the most terrible of cats. 

last week, when it was cold as fuck. it was bracing! -10F and sunny is so much more tolerable than 40F and rainy... this is a bus stop post. 

Fish Creek. all I did to this picture was "vignette" the border. 

Holga filter vanity. she's thrilled, obviously.

and a nine-year-old's lost tooth. 

"and I am not one of those bold women who enjoy tranquility in crime and who show a countenance that never blushes. I know all my madness and can call it back to mind." -Jean Racine, Phèdre 

another toilet dream

just woke up. 

in the dream, open-air public toilets- regular, tank-on-the-back, non-industrial toilets- are as ubiquitous as water fountains. no one really uses them, because they are completely exposed, but they're everywhere and not necessarily seen as unhygienic or disgusting. 

I'm walking downtown. it's the middle of the night. I must have been staying down there; it's like I'm taking a cheerful sweatpanted insomniac stroll. it's freezing cold but there's no snow; the pavement is bare and glittery. there is also no power- the streetlights are dark and the sky is absolutely saturated with stars. I'm listening to stand-up comedy on my headphones, and the (sigh) Dane Cookish guy is talking about these public toilets. "you want to tell everyone who sees you using one 'hey man, it's cool! I was just peeing!' because NO ONE wants to shit in public!" the audience is laughing hysterically. I'm laughing also as I'm listening on this quiet street. and then I see this toilet at 5th & E. how weirdly timed and perfect that I should have to micturate right then! it's too perfect! so I do. and right when I finish I see someone walking up the dark street from about a block away. I start laughing again, thinking of the comedian, wanting to shout a disclaimer. I cross the street and start walking back to wherever I was staying (toward C Street). the block with the 5th Ave parking garage is so dark I accidentally bump into the corner of the building. I know there are multiple alcoves and I can't see ANYTHING. that one pedestrian is still on the other side of the street. suddenly I realize how fucking vulnerable I am. this is NOT SAFE. I make myself wake up. 

I would actually consider this a nightmare due to the completely sinister turn it took. 

this is what I can remember. the entire setting was hyper-realistic. most of my dreams are; perhaps that's why they fuck with my head. 

*it had a little paper.  

**it's the middle of the night.