Dear You,

I miss you.

I was fine. Even redefined every niche in my room, in my heart, in every crevice of my mind, into meanings that circle back to me… and not to you.

And I was successful. I have etched your face, your imprint in my bed, the slices of air your voice box made, everything of you, into a page somewhere in my diary and placed it in a shelf where I once held your heart, the one I gave it back to you.

But today, I miss you.

You were the last taste of summer before crimson painted the autumn sky.

You were the lingering scent of gardenias, carried by the night’s breeze, triggering memories of a man who inhaled my exhalations.

I miss your breath against the nape of my neck.

I miss your forearm between my breasts as you carefully pulled me in closer to you.

I miss the faint scent of you that you left in my pillows the morning after.

And somewhere, deep inside me, I wonder if you think of me. I wonder if a vision of me ever escapes your memory bank, clawing to the top, demanding to be seen. I wonder if you ever stop to wonder how I am doing. I wonder if you ever struggle with your hand who wants to pick up the phone or even pick up a pen to send a comforting word to me, as you did time and time again.

i will rest assure that there is still poetry out there that reminds you of me. that there are bass lines and high hats that remind you of me. that sand on brown cheeks still remind you of me. that every time the smell of hazelnut coffee and biscotti makes you smile in the memory of me... that maybe somewhere, in the area where your head slopes into your neck, you hear me saying your name in my head.

Or maybe it’s a good thing that you have moved on.

That way only one of us goes through this.

Today, I miss you.

and tomorrow, i promise myself it will be better.

lagging like a mawfawka

life happens hella fast. i know. i know. i lag in posting pics and/or just typing in what is going on with me.

so here goes...

miko came down for my bday. she stayed for a week and let me tell you, that week is not long enough. miko has earned her title of best friend and now have been promoted to sister. really. cuz we grew up together.

i took her to the jose ramirez art reception at 33 1/3 bookstore in silver lake. jose is an established los angeles artist who both of us admire. he has been giving me his advice and support for my work and i can never be more thankful for that.



a painting of his



we met up with alain formerly of numerous cat



and grizzly, aka igrow, aka mr. wooly



bff... hahahaha. i just learned that term this year



i wonder what miko was thinking here...



and here...



yea, alain... i did it.. i posted this pic. hehhehehe



yes, i was sober in this pic...


the following week, phloe, my trusty padnah in crime, hit up gallery 1988 for a graffiti show featuring ewokone, totem, and revok. it was pretty fucking amazing. (note: i apologize for the lack of complex vocabulary. at this hour, i just cuss alot to get my point across)



started off with a piece from ewokone



totem



thelma and louise came right after work, early ... beat the line for free wine and vodka



harry said,"man, if can paint a fraction as good as these guys, and charge a fraction of what they price their pieces, i would be able to pay my rent." phloe contested.



luke said,"yo, saw you earlier but you know, i had to get my drink first." phloe concurred.



revok



angry men in bunny suits by ewok



danielle made it.. she got this thing about opening her mouth as big as she can



what danielle has got is contagious, as we can see here. and slim is deathly scared



as the night goes on, phloe gets progressively inebriated. here, we find her sitting on the curb after 4 vodka drinks and i don't know how many beers.



and this is phloe convincing me that she is alert enough to drive me home.



i don't know what jedi is doing here but apparently, he doesn't have the open mouf syndrome that phloe and danielle has. he has the tongue in cheek one.