Here we are, alone again.

revisiting my new years resolutions.

2012-04-17T22:35:06Z

Go Lo-Tech. Connect.

Radio instead of TV. Board games instead of video games. See movies in the theater. Check my time on my watch and not my phone. Call instead of text. Less Facebook and other garbage internet. Finish the books I begin reading.

Be Healthy. Look Well.

Juice again. Less dairy. Less sugar. No bacon. No fast food. Fewer grains. No beer. Attend to digestion. Keep my bowels clear. Yoga when I can afford it. Shower and groom daily. Dress well. Be confident.

Maintain a Healthy Emotional State.

Manage anger and frustrations. Disconnect from triggering situations. Resist one-upping or pettiness. Be less fragile. Avoid painful situations. Don't obsess over difficult things that have happened. Keep learning to let go.

Focus on the friends and things I love, not the friends and things I don't have.

Simple Charities to Make My Life Simpler.

Volunteer with the Humane Society at least once. Pet all the cats.

Donate my ill-fitting and old clothes. Even some I think I'll wear again someday. I know how that always goes.

Be Ambitious in My Work Product.

Be diligent in getting my resume out there. Promote myself as a strong candidate for positions I apply to. In any job, work hard so my value is recognized. Continue to educate myself about the areas of law I would like to know. Contract. Copyright. Intellectual Property. Patent. Moral Rights. Arts and Entertainment.

Be Self Reliant.

Carry heavy things. Learn how to maintain my car. Take care of my own shit. Know that I can.

Reinvigorate Creativity.

Write again. Even if it's just LJ. Create a new body of work. Paintings. Drawings. Inspirations: Acanthamoeba. Cryptozoology. Paranormal. Tiger Blood.

Improve Living Space.

Get out of the shop. Keep the living area clean and interesting. Collect more art. Collect more taxidermy.

Laugh.

Laughter is good for your health

Laughter relaxes the whole body. A good, hearty laugh relieves physical tension and stress, leaving your muscles relaxed for up to 45 minutes after.
Laughter boosts the immune system. Laughter decreases stress hormones and increases immune cells and infection-fighting antibodies, thus improving your resistance to disease.
Laughter triggers the release of endorphins, the body’s natural feel-good chemicals. Endorphins promote an overall sense of well-being and can even temporarily relieve pain.
Laughter protects the heart. Laughter improves the function of blood vessels and increases blood flow, which can help protect you against a heart attack and other cardiovascular problems.

(http://www.helpguide.org/life/humor_laughter_health.htm)

a plan: i'll go to the bottom of the earth for myself.

2010-08-25T22:56:36Z

the national science foundation has an artists and writers grant program that allows folks to go to ANTARCTICA to create. learning this last night has snowballed into the thought of: nothing will stop me.

i was sitting here on my couch in this dark cave of a life staring at ice on tv thinking "i'll never see that." but then the why thought came. why should i never go there? WHY NOT. i'd never wanted to. perhaps because it seemed so remote. so off limits. so painfully cold and inconvenient. but all those things telling me i couldn't go sparked in me this want. i want something again. for myself! i want something again.

i was just saying how i missed travel. it seemed impossible. now, i'm not going to stop until all my fingers have snapped off from frozen and i'll be typing with my teeth. what a way to escape the isolation i'm feeling in this hometown! propel myself into deeper dangerous isolation. go only where snow is the most frightening silence i've ever heard and within lie my deepest fears to confront.

i think i'll be a fine candidate because i strongly straddle the art and writing fence. (and how)

god, these are the kind of goals that motivated the person i used to be to continue to breathe. i can almost feel the exhale, the inhale, the exha.... there is joy in the mission.

I AM GOING TO GO TO FUCKING ANTARCTICA. this will be my greatest solo performance.

i will learn to live.

it's possible that with looking from another face of the same whole, with concepts and images cultured this American way, i will come to a unique understanding of the overall gestalt of a thought. or perhaps this thought is the same creature, with different alchemy: with ice.

better to have flooded and lost than never flooded at all.

2010-05-20T17:57:36Z

a tale of forced rain into a room in my house told through the use of digital images.

this guy helped me rip up the carpet and throw it out the window.

dog.

2010-01-13T21:59:30Z

Home is where the heart is, so your real home's in your chest.

parenthesized @ 2010-01-13T13:32:00

2010-01-13T21:32:55Z

golly, i miss my bed.

i had to evict crazypants from my house. she's dirtied every dish and her cat has compromised the condition of my couch. man, i hate that fuckin' girl. she's done everything short of burn down the house and ask me if it'll come out with water. she's finally finally out today. her body is. but her stuff isn't. i'm taking her tv as an idiot tax. a fucking idiot tax.

i miss my house too. santa cruz this weekend. flight back to seattle saturday. make up the class i miss today and attend next week's class. which is on my birthday. then fly to nashville to take care of my left behinds.

master bedroom of our stabbin' cabin.

2009-07-22T14:08:27Z

my husband guy and i just bought our first home. it's a log cabin in east nashville and pretty much the coolest place ever. ...on the outside. we're (i'm) slowly redecorating molding the inside to fit our taste and styles. when we first moved in he suggested we mold it to be dark southern-gothic inspired by a band called the pine box boys. (it was covered with country bumpkin floral prints and underneath that wall paper was a hideous turquoise on all the walls.)

so, here is the start of the process transforming the bedroom into... ours.

this is the view from our bed (as of yesterday) facing the north wall.

this is the north wall looking back at us. i hung that wallpaper two days ago. on the left is my walk-in closet (thinkin it may burst open spilling its guts soon.) the bed remains unmade because, hey. it's a hot tennessee summer and we kick the blankets off anyways.

closeup of my houndstooth and wallpaper patterns

if you turned one step right from here, you'd see the curtained doorway to our master bathroom, my man's walk-in closet doors and a wall covered with hideous not yet updated by me.

the unicorn skull is a new and exciting acquisition of ours. i had a table at an art and vintage clothing fair saturday as did this artist (matt arnn). it was right outside the bar my husband parked himself at while i worked. i asked him for it and he responded... "let me drink on it." at the end of the day, i gave the artist some money and told him to tell my guy he'd dropped the price for us. that worked. we're both quite pleased. (we also have a silkscreened warhol-esque lemmy portrait by the same artist in our bathroom)

here's a snap at our stack on the dresser tv-side. library books hats movies video games leathers.

and our wedding boots bookending other boots of ours.

these prints were a gift from portland artist and good buddy _milk.

and because people always do it, and i always think it's funny & of interest ... here is your friend and humble narrator in her bedroom mirror.

cross pollinating posting places.

2009-06-30T16:19:42Z

sent from his iphone.

2009-01-29T17:32:49Z

Yes, Michelle. Please tell me what it is that so intrigues you about visual artists who use writing as a critical part of their practice? Can you concretely name the artists you will consider? Also give me a biblio of writings, videos, etc. of these artists. Also concretely--not tentatively--tell me what the products/outcomes will be--paper, you producing art, extended annotation of relative works, etc., some combination of the previous...Keep in mind that this is a kind of contract, albeit a contract with some flexibility.

The first time it occurred to me that the incorporation of text and writing within the visual presentation of artwork began with witness to a Louise Bourgeois work that was like a series of pieces to a story typed out and framed within a large exhibition of her work. I don't know why it took that long; I had originally enrolled in the college as a design student.

What I'm pulled to is more than the element of text in work. It is language. Words for supplement or substitution of image.

Works that continued to inspire this interest and my own creation:
Kathy Prendergast's maps.
Tracey Emin's applique quilts and objects.
Jenny Holzer's engravings and projections.
Bruce Nauman's neon.
Mary Kelly's postpartum documents

Books:
Tracey Emin, Strangeland.
Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Dictee.
Mary Kelly, Imaging Desire.
Lucy Lippard, Six Years: The Dematerialization of the Art Object from 1966 to 1972
Carl Andre, Cuts: Texts 1959 - 2004.

The words can work outside of explanation.
I'm trying to reconcile my desire to be part of a writing world and an art world.
Or to merge the two for myself.

The outcome from this research will be a paper reflecting my observations in the readings as well as a relevant artwork of my own.

I have attached a found list of artists who have worked with text and image and intend to write a few sentences about each artist and extend the list with artists I continue to discover while researching the topic.

also of interest: http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1248/is_n4_v84/ai_18213396?tag=artBody;col1

Let me know if you have any further suggestions. (and if you know how i can register this class for credit?)

thanks patrick.

michelle

hurricane omar

2008-10-18T23:46:51Z

i need salad bar.

been cleaning my house. i smudged it again throughout the lower level.

smells better.

max is coming back, one night only.
meeting me at the bar.

imma make my bed.

i really want to see the tennessee mountains. i miss mountains. what i truly miss is the pacific.

10 9 8 7 6 5 and so on.

ackkkk.

salad bar OR brie and ham sandwich.

ARTIST TALK ON THE CURRENT EXHIBIT

2008-10-18T16:09:20Z

October 21 @ 7 PM

http://www.scarrittbennett.org/giftshop/galleryf.aspx
"The New Dress Code: Seven Women Explore Feminine Values In Art" with Kristi Hargrove, Jodi Hays, Michelle Sciumbato, Barbara Yontz, Mandy Sauer, Erika Wollam Nichols

Join this unique group of artists as they discuss their work which includes conceptual art, photographic, print making, painting, drawing, video, installation, and object art. Following the theme of feminine values, their work connects the technical aspect of art with philosophy, literature, psychology, politics, and spirituality.

t. robbins

2008-10-17T07:30:34Z

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words "make" and "stay" become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.”

just as guilty of their sin

2008-10-17T03:29:23Z

"to be a fag enabler is a worse sin against god than to be a fag." russell and i put the dogs outside and curled up with taco bell and watched a documentary about the phelps family (godhatesfags). when we let the beasts in they were covered in muddy water. so we got down into our queer little underpants and threw both pups in the tub and had a dogwash bath.

i'm home instead of reeling it up at danger bear. i bet dave brown is even bartending. damnit all to hell. my parents beat my spirit down today. i'm cold and lonely. max is in atlanta. adam is in los angeles. and my brain is in the toilet. let's think about that word for a moment. toil et. etymology...

The word "toilet paper" comes from ancient french:

"Toi l´est papier" and was a polite way to express, that the opposite person is good to clean one's back end with.

now, from max: "you now have your own ring tone on my phone."
(it's my gnr song)(well well well...etc.)

my kidneys hurt.

christ i am a gift to my parents.

2008-10-16T21:21:19Z

it's their thirty fourth wedding anniversary.

my sister had to call and remind them.

saucy seats.

2008-10-15T22:31:15Z

bicycle wild stallion wild rodeo tribal dance tangled spider sniper rock the cradle lock n load

</a>

still reveling in my long long weekend. (it's weds already?!)

i face a dilemma. first of all. i'm basically loosing my driver's license because the tennessee informed consent law is fascist. lawyer thinks that'll be the basics of my punishment. no real way to get out of that one. the rest of the pleas offered will include jail time and dui school. we can probably get out of most of it. then probation. assholes. assholes! my case is easy though.

1. i was not told why i was pulled over.
2. i requested the test on the way to the station and was denied. (and woulda passed that shit, for the record.)
3. my passengers were not cited for open containers (as it is LEGAL).
4. i was not cited for open containers.

blah blah.

my parents want to force me home in order of servitude for lawyer fees. this is something i am resisting. they want me there for at least a month. more.

max wants to date me.
which is lovely.

adam is coming the 9th.
which is lovely.
(back in communication with him is relief, pleasure and just... feels right).

i just want to be michelle but all of these things are complicating it.

i'm watching the red dog play with her toy out in the yard. i'mma go meet dani at the alley cat two for one beers. she's upset and methinks i know why. (conversation overheard last night conducted by the bar manager and charles). the red hound should come, i say.

i dont want to sit in jail for two days and i sure as shit want to keep my license.

i dont want to get stuck in a manhole, either.

parenthesized @ 2008-10-11T11:43:00

2008-10-11T17:10:37Z

somethings you cannot sleep on and make better by morning.

yes, the open container laws in tenn. are more lax than other states.
yes, your passengers can have them. yes, that is probable cause to suspect you are drunk.

yes, i refused to take a field sobriety test. fuck, why didn't i take the effing test? i was not drunk.
not even a little.

i met up with a fella i hadn't seen in eight years and some of his friends. family friends, he was at my third birthday party. now, twenty something years later, we get to have a new story to tell. only they got to do their honky tonk thing and my wrists are bruised.

i have to find my damn car and pay money i do not have. adam lectured when he got my message saying, "do you have an i'm sorry you got arrested song?"

i refused because i have been coached by dad to never say yes to anything you don't have to. the cop, not the one who pulled us over, but the one who collected me, could tell i was lucid and intelligent and decent and friendly. off. sam johnson, thank you for rolling down the windows. he chided me for making that decision, and i explained while i was still in pop's pocket, i'm going to respect his wishes for my behavior in these instances. but fucking christ, what the hellfuck damn was i thinking? we had an audience and while i was being processed in the car, the honky tonk broadway crowd blew kisses at me and asked for my phone number. i winked at a man and mouthed "oh yeah." everyone loves a spectacle.

the woman who took my mug shot was upset with me because having visible tattoos means more work for her.

four hours later, i got to leave the jail. i didn't have to make bond since i am, on paper, a good girl.

i walked back to the people. on my walk back i was winked at by some officers as they followed my short short cowboy boot gait away from the station.

meanwhile, on the other side of town kyla and dani watched a girl back over a sidewalk and straight into a telephone pole, nearly hitting them. she refused and acted like it was nothing, when they told her to stop driving and call a cab. they began to yell at her. she drove away and almost hit more things. way to go, life.

chatanooga merch girls.

2008-10-10T19:04:33Z

Hi world (specifically Nashville),

We're going to Chattanooga Thursday night for a righteous rock and roll fiesta, and we're looking for somebody who wants to be an honorary member of the band for a day (and night).

Criteria:
-Must be able to count
-Preferably an attractive lady
-Must have high tolerance for dudes who sometimes accidentally pee on each other's stuff in the van, bad pop music, and open containers.

-Willing to waste a day and night of your life with Nashville's 9th most hated band
-Must provide own hair straightener and allow Jason to use it for several hours before, during, and after the show. Hair straightener will not be returned.

-Able to type 75+ WPM and proficient with Microsoft Word, Excel, and Soulseek

If you think you match these criteria, by all means give us a call:
(615) 973-xxxx and we'll get you all the necessary waivers, itemized responsibilities, and other legal documents.

Good luck and happy bidding,
THE ARMED FORCES

work.

2008-10-08T20:42:35Z

this is the last floor i worked on with martin.

this is what it looked like before we got to it:

last night, luke texts

2008-10-08T19:46:53Z

(i have texted with luke twice in life before, ever. haven't seen him for a year. we've known each other since grade 1).

l: life is so weird; have you noticed this? bizarre. ever feel like everything is off the tracks? that's how i feel at the moment.
m: how come? and... yeah.
l: well, to be frank, even though you make me sexually uncomfortable, i feel like i wish you were here to give me advice, i just wish i could figure all this out.
l: apparently, while i was dating all these girls, i was supposed to pick one to marry. but now i'm old, and none of them seemed up to the task. i think i fucked it up somehow.
m: i don't think you did. we are so young luke. out of the blue today... i started watching footage from my last visit with you guys.
l: you collected footage!? what are you some kind of documentarian now?
m: i fail at just experiencing.
l: heh
m: at a bar in nashville. homesick though.
(i tried calling him)
l: almost no cell reception here.
m: just driving home.
l: drive safe you. sorry i can't take a call. winter is here. the lights flicker. i have spotty cell signal. nice to hear from you. makes me feel less alone.
m: home. you are not alone. winter isn't here yet. i can hear trains. i never wanted your sex. only your approval.
l: i approve of you. i support the free spirit. i am in favor of wild uncertainty.
m: its not all its cracked out to be. but i do love rock and roll. and art. and writing. i would have failed so bad if i'd have stayed at home.
l: there is nothing worse in life than to be boring. i think maybe a famous someone said that. i don't believe you. i think success was etched in your heart.

7 am phone call

2008-10-07T18:06:17Z

"hey what's up?"
"i'm sleeping."
"wanna come drink some beer."
"i guess."

oh, erich. one of my very favourite friends.

parenthesized @ 2008-10-06T23:12:00

2008-10-07T04:14:37Z

October 19th
Venue name and address: Arrington Vineyards, 6211 Patton Rd, Arrington, TN
615 395 0102 just 20 minutes south of Nashville, wine tasting and bonfire poetry show!
Performance Time: 5:30pm
Booked by: Derrick -POST SHOW DANCE FEST SPECTESTACULAR WITH
SPRING HILL SPIDER PARTY at Mercy Lounge in Cannery Ballroom,
1 Cannery Row, Nashville, TN, 10pm with special guests, 5 bucks

parenthesized @ 2008-10-06T16:05:00

2008-10-06T21:07:36Z

come on.

2008-10-05T19:33:08Z

jamey keeps telling me how whore-fabulous our home'll be.
i say i'm retiring.
i say, "i'm looking for that real-good thing. not just the good thing. more than the real thing. the real-good thing."

home things

2008-10-04T19:34:12Z

out each of my downstairs windows.

flowers for algernon. neighbour eloise brought me these in sympathy of the jamey disaster.

living room. it's a good life. the napkins on the side arm of the couch are cloth ones stolen from roommate jamey's work. he gave them to me so i'd have something handy to mop up with after bedroom encounters.

things i had to move downstairs so jamey(other) could move in. these things are in limbo. it's okay because we don't use the dining room much anyhow. my college diplomas are balanced atop those books. the painting is one i did last year of samson and delilah.

the dog had my shoe in the backyard. she doesn't destroy anything she chews on save cords. i just laughed a "no." all the cotton around her used to be a stuffed yellow lamb. she had a playdate with friend's dog bella and they tug o warred it.

refrigerator- evidence of being excused from jury duty.

don found the photo of me from my highschool hippie years and put it up. also, john anderson's phone number. the first note sara coffin ever wrote me, it says "suck my cock" a bunch of times in red and green. it was for christmas. bar tab: love you! from cleo's bartender stephen in chicago. this must be the place polaroid. ryan salt chicago polaroid. note from neighbour's child echo "i love miss michelle." photobooth photo with kaela g the day i got accepted to cornish college of the arts. dread locks. polaroid from sierra's mix for my drive to chicago "sur la route." leaves that smell a certain way from a seattle walk i used to take with diana r. she mailed them to me.

livingroom bookshelf

bathroom

bedside table. bitch. poet's market o8. cheetah's cd. kenny's cd. basically, a stack of men.

desk and closet. reflected in the mirror is the door that opens to outside back yard.

and the real closet. the other closet is not for clothes. it's got nasty shit in it so i'm waiting for don to move out of his room. and so, piles of clean clothes. sometimes its all just on my bed. coyote face. fox face.

busy body

2008-10-04T17:05:28Z

a new roommate finished moving in upstairs last night.
while he was lugging shit up there i entertained a movie date with zach who pulls heavy upright bass strings for hank iii. we watched a gram parsons documentary. that rich spoiled son of a bitch. oh! the nudie suit drama. interesting was when they were talking about the nudie suits and special tailors one came on and spoke. zach said, "hey they're making me a shirt for california." the jimmy kimmel show coming sometime soon. he put his hand on my thigh and it was sweet.

the bloodhound lunges at my hands on the edge of the bed until i'm annoyed and pull her up with me. she's already too big and she isn't half what she'll be. oh the joy when she's able to jump up here on her own. but it calms her.

i'm cramping and bleeding.

into writing last night, nick called. can you take me to work? it's too cold to bike. so once at the foobar, we played billiards. it's easier there. for whatever reason, my tab is always half the drinks lighter than i'd consumed. but we decided to go to reddoor then three crow to find our lindsey. ran into the night's cast of characters. jeremy who drums. sometimes for Jypsi. he's filled in for don's drummer. i met him at my house. i drove him well out to the other side of town. white bridge to collect the white. five grams. in a parking lot i got on his lap facing him. later recalling the story i told kyla he'd been hurting to fuck me, but no. "why didn't you!" i got from kyla in approval. god, i never know who's right in the dark.

i like the excitement in a kiss that has nothing to do with leaving the bar. these moments are just filler.

the best part of the night was when adam phoned me. he laughed when i told him i was in a tiny bathroom with three men. three large tattooed men. both foobar doormen, and a third. and me. oh, me. he'd gone to a comedy sketch night and relayed some of the knock knock jokes he'd heard. and lord, he sang. the little me standing in my head crumbled. i taught him how to pronounce my surname.

why is the tornado siren going off right now? it's a beautiful calm ass day. stop. okay, stopped. but echoes through my ear.

the small side of the duplex filled with smoke. it was five in the morning and i wanted to beat the traffic of the sun. i crawled into bed and i'm still wearing jeans and a bra, my cowboy shirt.

this is the life that inspires the great american novel.

i just want a happy one.

parenthesized @ 2008-10-03T12:36:00

2008-10-03T17:52:49Z

when nick and i came out of the toilet room together, i had a naughty grin. a guilty one for abandoning my darts game. "did i win?" i asked them. "uh, no. you were losing and then disappeared."