Bientot je serais la

I'm in flux.
And in transit. Held over in North Carolina en route to NYC.
The fast food diet is still in effect because I've no will power here.
I learned the finer points of playing pool tonight in the lone gay bar
within a 50 mile radius. The transition from warm to cold is daunting.
As soon as I hit Mobile I wanted to go back. Any chance of an extended
heat wave hitting the city for a couple of months?

Considering celibacy for new years.

I need to take pictures...

Encore chez mere en Caroline du NOrd. Plein de solitude, plein d'ennui. C'est belle
ici, oui,une petite ville entourée par des forêts. Chaque nuit je m'assieds sur le balcon et observe notre petite rue suburbaine. Les couleurs sont incroyables. La lueur d'or d'une lampe dans une fenêtre, le bleu d'une lampe de sécurité, le fort vert de l'herb illumine par des réverbères . La lueur orange de la pollution lumiere contre la silhouette des arbres.

Je veux commencer à peindre encore. C'est dur pk j'ai la mémoire dans mes yeux, dans mes mains. Mais dans mon esprit il y'a un mur. Un mur du verre. Je peux voir à travers mais chui incapable de fonctionner.

Je dois trouver un marteau.


Jusqu'ici j'ai perdu ma chance de photographier une forêt remplie par brouillard par laquelle a couru par hier et le jardinier chaud de mes parents qui fauchant la pelouse, que je suis distrait près pendant que je faire la dactylographie. Tristement j'ai laissé ma petite câble pour le digicam à la maison en NOLA, ainsi je devrai faire un autre livre de photo sur le retour. Si tout va bien l'herbe se développe vite. Peut-être je vais prennent un couple que cent gallons de miracle grow chez Home Depot. Ce qui est vraiment une excuse pour passer en revue les papas chauds là.

What happens when my family does not let me do the planning

I end up flying from New Orleans to Winston-Sale then driving to Atlanta the next day. We will then drive to Dallas in 24 hours to visit my sister upon her return from Japan, and to collect her cats, who we will bring back to Winston Salem.

Mind you that this is all my mum's master plan to see two of her children
at the same time. I however get 48 hours of travel time with mum, and 24
hours of cats screaming at me in japanese while I try not to loose my mind
driving through the madness that is the mountain pass between Knoxville and
Asheville. While T. gets an evening and a ride to the airport.

It is nice to be home though. New Orleans is lovely but it was getting nutty.

Caroline du Nord, Encore

So here I am in NC.
Reading magazines instead of just looking at the pictures and rearranging Mum's furniture.
Going back to NOLA saturday morning. A little surprised at how much I missed it. My adoptive
convenient little city that feels like a village. I missed being able to go out whenever and take my drink with me.
I missed being able to walk around in a t-shirt with out fearing the fall of night and it's ensuing wrath of frost.
I missed riding in cabs, and chicory in my coffee. And the street cars and uneven sidewalks. I missed the friends
I left there, although it was very nice seeing the ones I left behind before.
New Orleans is a little like home to me now.
I like that.

Christmas 1: North Carolina

So here I am in NC. WIth my stripped down log cabin in the middle of suburbia. My parents are hardly here so no cable, no wireless, and everything is wrapped up in black plastic from the fumigation of 3 weeks ago. I'm accepting the forced isolation, it's making me think about things I need to think about. And hanging out with mum is good too. Will type more soon.

Maintaining Consciousness while Moving

So I ran again last night and did not experience any sort of out of head experience.
I have other things to make up for it though. Such as my tea cup balanced on a charging elephants bum of a
financial situation. Why do people pay talented people so crapily(two p's in crapily?)? Why do talented people
work for such crappy pay? Seriously, not just me, someone had to set the precedent. That said why do I do it?!
Partly because I honestly can't do anything else, I've only ever worked in theatre thereby ruining my chances
at any sort of viable occupation at this point. Do I stop caring about what I do? Do I only give as much design
as I'm being paid for?
"Here Love, Here is your half a suit and partial tie. Be grateful, the rest of the cast are in hefty bags and knee socks."
I don't think I could do that either. A friend just sent me a message telling me to stop working at realizing the dreams
of others who have no regard for my own...it sounds clearer in french. I think this is quite wise, and true, only in this
business the only one who ever gets to really dream the majority of the time are the directors. And the bloody
playwrights who dream up swimming pools as stage sets and multi-cast actors who change clothes in four lines.

I've decided to focus on set design for a while. And to give Tulane another semester since they are paying me to be
here. I still plan on submitting apps to other programs. Or who knows. Not me, not this instant anyway.

As thought that weren't enough. Of the two guys I've been seeing one is moving to North Carolina, professining
his adoration the whole time. I tried a long distance thing before and it was enough to know better than to do it again.
The other is adorable, but about as constant as a comet. Plans were made to see Batman this evening, and I've heard
nothing. What I really need are friends. I have friends, great, fantastic, melt in you mouth friends, just none in the city.
Everyone I know is married, otherwise engaged, or a little to close to the line of Acquaintance to be comfortable.

WOUNDED BREAKFAST FEVER

Two days until I depart for vastly different parts of the world. 2 days in Doha, Qatar, and two weeks in Tanzania. I will be in Tanzania on Friday.
While I dread the fifteen hour flight to Qatar and the 14 hour layover there (7pm-9am), I am very excited about moving about the world again. Perhaps this will ignite my wanderlust again. No, not perhaps. It has. I have already begun to look up monthly rentals in Paris for the summer. A boy has to make good use of his student loans ya know.

2008 is looking to start off well enough. School will be nothing but drawing and costume construction. I'm signed on to design The Clean House for Riverside Repertory Theatre as soon as I get back. A possible ball around Mardi Gras. Mardi Gras, which will hopefully include a visit from Mr. Daryl. Spring break plans for Houston and San Francisco. And if I can make it work a trip to NYC to do some buying for possible dance shows and The Clean House.

Fingers crossed. Next time I do this I will be in Quatar, in an airport, starving. And it will be next year.

Didactic temperate imapatience

Day 5 in New Orleans.
Adjusting at last to the "air". It works out best if I stay inside between the hours of 10am and 6pm.
Thank God the library is kick ass.

Drew a bit this morning, considering starting a drawing of the day post to help motivate daily drawing.
We will see how this plays out. Finally met the phantom roomate, a big burly guy we shall call Mr. Brown.
Since comming out of hiding he has been a great source of information about the area, the city in general,
and a little bit of New Orleans History. Although he did go a bit far in telling me that the far corner of the street
may just be a favourite crack vending corner. I love my block more and more everyday.

On a slightly happier front, I have tenativly befriended a couple of fellows, M. & B..
M. is a North Carolinian fellow Tulanian studying Law (also know as the way of the avocado to us french speakers).
A nice burly cub of a guy. He gave me a ride home last evening, saving me from further exposure to the "air", but ominously responded with a "we'll see" when asked if I would indeed see him again. Fingers crossed.
B. is from Florida. A very motivated young lad with the goal of opening a KIPP school (www.kipp.org) here in New Orleans, of which he will be Principal. We had dinner at an oddly charming restauraunt called, no joke, Nacho Mamas on Magazine Street.
I've never before had a chocolate mole, but perhaps I will again. One day. Anyway, dinner went well, conversation was great with only a few awkward moments of silence. Sadly poor B. is being shipped off to the peanit fields of North Carolina (Why do I have such boundless ties to that state?) to shaddow, and thus become a principal. For a month. Will attempt to text him, if he gets a signal.