dead pigeon studios

i enjoy missing you when you are not around.

grandmother

i watched my dim reflection in the glass on the front of the cabinet last night as the needles reminded me how to feel. i look very thin. my cheekbones are ever more prominent and my eyes look hollow. my arms are wiry and muscular and my joints look over-large. i do not have the same face i did a year ago.
my history is dying around me and i am looking like someone new.

exhausted.

i am stuck. i cannot work because i cannot settle and i cannot settle because i cannot move in to my permanent room until monday. if i were truly nomadic then i would be fine but i am not moving, either, i am just stagnating, waiting. on pause. i have been on pause for months now and i am tired. it's not the kind of tired that goes away with a good night's sleep or a day off, it's the kind of tired that settles in and won't leave because there is no way to eliminate its source.
so very tired.

permanent

i do not know how more permanence will treat me.
transience suits me so well...

pretendtwin

rauschenberg to your johns.
keep coming back to the truth of that.
it's more and more everyday.

perche voi?

They all die with their eyes open. Sometimes they shudder as their breathing ceases. Their muscles tense and then go slack, and quickly they are no more. Terminus.

a list of things to make:

- silk shirtdress
- linen sundress
- linen flounce skirt
- redbean cookies
- topographic map bags
- lung cancer cake