Showing posts with label Beck. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beck. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 19, 2014


Life is a bit interesting as of late. I've struggled for my own answers & feelings for a couple of months this fall because it has brought more change than I know what to do with. Good and Bad. We don't get a choice what happens but we can choose how to move ahead from it. And sometimes people are there to give us the words we need to hear to discover our own answers.

I get myself twisted out of shape when seeking answers sometimes so I always appreciate a bit of help. You see answers and truths are an internal thing for me. They are necessary to my balance because they keep me at home with myself.

Indeed I don't have the buddhist answers sometimes even for myself... And most of you are not ready to hear the ones I can give you. You have to find these truths out for yourselves by interaction & experiencing them. But not always. I'm always one to return the kindness to offer a word when I see people struggling if I've been there myself and can help. So...

Although it's been a minute since I've seen them, I get the impression one of my favorite people, is homesick. Understandably it happens when things change a lot. So I thought to talk about... Home. 

Maybe it's cause I'm very close to completely identifying with buddhism but Home to me is a feeling. It is felt. One of my oldest friends... Years go by and it's like home when we see or talk to each other again. Home you see... Despite the fancy dreamhouses and lifestyle, home is a feeling and not a place. 

We are our own home and we move about through the changing world. Sometimes we lose faith & focus and that comprises how we feel. Reconnecting to the feeling of home is important to your well being.

So my advice to my friend before you get twisted up & down... If you have doubts or feel blue: go see and call up family & friends that bring you back to the self you are at home with. Don't lose focus on the present situation because it's unknown. And if you ever need a friend who has nothing to gain by reminding you to stay firm & remain focused on your path despite the pull of the currents... Hit me up. I specialize in pep talks and I've never had anyone go astray yet... 

Here's a short and kinda funny one about being away from home that my little sister asked me to write...

Kisses, m.


People don’t notice something is gone until it comes back. That missing link can go unnoticed for a while without a second thought or glance. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Then there it is… on the TV, outside the supermarket, or walking down the street. Soon enough you’ll realize, if you’re lucky, that something has been missing and that maybe you don’t know how long it’s been gone.

Danny pushes at his face with one hand as he looks around at the street around him, behind him and up ahead. Through his swollen, creased left eye he can see the rest of the guys walking up slowly to the rear. Still dressed in the same white tees and creased black chinos they were wearing when they left. From an outsiders eye they look like a pack heading out for the night. This couldn’t be further form the truth. Tijuana, has a split lip and two black eyes. Shorty is nursing a limp that threatens his balance. White Rob keeps twitching and talking about strange things under his breath. 

Up ahead Danny can make out the front porch of his Mom’s place. She’s sitting on the front porch with Alberta Johnson watching the final colors of twilight take effect. Two gossiping hens watching and waiting for the fallen soldiers to make contact. He can already see her cane start waving as he draws closer to the fence line. And just like a force to be reckoned with he has no choice but to face the music. 

Not even three feet through the gate, she lets him have it. 

“Where the hell have you been all week?! Pendejos!”

Danny edges nearer to the base of the porch. He is stopped by another barrage of language and the wild movements of her cane pointing in his direction.

“What the…? Look at your face. Estas loco! I swear you better have a good reason for it. Damn you fools comin’ up here like this after a week! I’ve been sick with worry.”

 “Mind ya business and you might live longer,” spouts off TJ standing at the front gate. 

“Tijuana, shut up fool, that’s his Moms.” Shorty hauls off and cuffs TJ in the head. “No disrespect, ma’am.” 

“You have some nerve! To come up to my house and talk this way. Daniel, you and these idiots better get outta my sight! And tell those other idiots across the street to stop calling over here. No one cares where you’ve been. If they did they would have found you and not bothered me.”

“Look I’m sorry Mom. Can we talk about it later?” Danny quietly says before trying to walk back out the front gate.

“Wait a minute! And where’s the car? Don’t you know tomorrow is Sunday? I have to go shopping.
Forget it. I’m already tired from talking to you. Get your G-Damn asses outta my sight!” His mom hollers and gives her cane a final wave before resuming her conversation. “Alberta can you believe this? Such disrespect. I know your grandson is a cardiologist. I don’t know where my boy went wrong.”

Danny and the boys didn’t always come home. Despite all the noise his Mom would throw out at him, that never set back the good times. Most nights there was a kick back somewhere or an even better something. It never seemed out of place if the old black Impala didn’t roll up in the drive for a few days. Especially if they hit the highway for a few. Funny thing was no one thought they’d ever roll back up without a ride. 

Heading across the street, the pack follows Danny with a less than stellar confidence. Out on the porch there’s Los and Sergio kickin it with forties in the dark. Los leans forward and nods to greet the beaten pack. 

“How you been livin’? Look like you got hit in the face with somethin’.” Sergio greets the broken crew. “If you want, there’s some cold ‘Ronas in the house.”

Los waves them up to the house. “Well then, take a load off. Where you been? No one has seen or heard from you fools since Hector’s kick back last week. The place got raided and we thought you was in county, for sure.”  

“Nah, we stayin’ off that shit for a few.” Danny shakes his head at Sergio and answers Los’ inquiries. “Some crazy shit happened after we left Hector’s place. I don’t know where we was but I don’t think… it wasn’t county.”

“Why’s it so dark? What can’t no body pay for some light bulbs around here?”spouts off TJ. Shorty raises his hand at TJ again and White Rob keeps looking at the sky talking in circles. 

Los leans in and smiles. “Come at me with some game. Lay down the story. You all show up at my place half dead and walking, seven days after my boy Hector gets raided and locked down without a tale. I’m not buyin’ it.”

 “Where’s your ride? If I had a ride as sweet as your black Impala I wouldn’t let it out of my sight. So what’s up, Danny?” Sergio chimes in with a cross-eyed look.

“Shorty thinks it’s in impound. Right?” 

“Yeah, Danny the ride’s gotta be in impound.” Shorty quickly agrees and shuts up. 

“What the fuck? Don’t show up and act like that? We go back.”

“Alright,” Danny starts and the pack follows his lead, “but I warned you. This is some real X-files shit going on. Hella don’t trip off of it. Cool?”

“You’re among family. You got my word.”

“Shorty… go on.”

“Alright, ‘member we’re leavin’ Hector’s last Saturday. Danny says that it’s hella dead and we need to bounce. So TJ, White Rob, and Jingo take off with us to find the party at Esco’s place. You know his hermanita got married and there was some party. Then…”

Los stops him in the middle… “What? You know where Jingo-Jango is? Where is he?”

Shorty waves his hands and Danny starts, “Yo, I don’t know how to tell you this but Jingo, didn’t make it. He just couldn’t handle it. Aww, man I’m sorry.”

Shorty starts back in… “So we’re takin the back streets to over by the high school where Esco was staying. There’s no one around. White Rob and TJ decide to smoke. It’s cool cause there’s nothin’ going on.” 

Shorty waves his hands around a few times and Danny jumps in.

“So I’m driving, Shorty and Jingo are cool watching the other two blaze it like mad. No worries. Then there it is…like out of no where. This light. So we’re all thinking the same thing…”

“Damn ghetto bird,” White Rob steals the words before falling back out into the unknown.

“Right, hell yeah, me and Danny are like ‘Fuck it’s the ghetto bird’ and we’re like ‘put that shit out’ to those fools.”

“Except, the light gets brighter and closer to the ground. Before they could get that shit put out there we were stopped dead. The car stopped. No engine. No radio. No lights. Cells don’t work. No signal. Interference. And the damn ghetto bird was getting closer until it’s on us. The five-0 must have stepped up their game. Because that was some high tech shit or somethin’ else.”

“Stop! Why the fuck didn’t you run?” interrupts Los. 

“Run? There wasn’t time.” Shorty snaps back quick. “It was in a flash then over. I don’t remember what happened to the car. They must have tazzed us or some shit cause all of sudden...BAM! Then we were awake in this strange place. Didn’t look like no kind of jail I’ve ever end up in.” 

White Rob speaks quietly “Tiny walls with openings of circles. No bars. Water in a tray.”

“Shut up fool! You had water?” screams TJ and slaps White Rob. “I didn’t have no water before they busted my face. Police brutality! Or whatever those things were?”

“Dude, don’t you remember seeing any five-0?” Sergio drops his empty forty on the ground. 

“Yo, I don’t know. If this is five-o I don’t know what kind of game they are runnin’ these days. Money is tight and all, but these fools had some crazy ass things going down. I get that there’s some budget cuts, but man they’re hiring some weird lookin’ people to work down there. There was one guy with tentacles. Fingers all over his body. Like something out of Aliens-lookin, E.T. copy cat mutha-fuckers and they kept messin with Jingo. I don’t know what their deal was. Shorty?”

“Danny’s right, they had this woman and her head spun around three times before stopping and she kept sticking Jingo and White Rob with some weird ol syringes. Jingo couldn’t hang. They just didn’t let up.” When they were tired of that, then they had these really big hairy goons, like Chewbacca an’ shit, come in and give the rest of us a beat down. ’member? That’s when they took your keys for the Impala.” 

“Fuck! My ride! Damn, it better be in impound. My moms is gonna kill me. I don’t even remember no mug shots or fingerprints. Shorty how’d we get back?”

“They? Shit, I don’t know. Didn’t we wake up by the side of the road earlier?”

“Oh yeah, fuck wow, this has been a week. So what do you think? Crazy shit.”

“Huh?” Los drops open a jaw.

“Look if you can say huh then you heard me? What do you think?”

Los and Sergio hold back straight until they’re just about to bust open. 

“HAHAHA! They got gaffled for their ride.” Los starts in, “By mutha fuckin’ X-files rejects n shit. HAHAHA.” 

Before long Sergio joins in while lighting up a smoke. “That’s some funny shit though. For real. If you all got jumped out then all you had to do was call someone. E.T. PHONE HOME! HAHA!”

“F-u-uck You!” spouts out TJ and no one raises a hand. 

The pack stops and looks at each other. 

“I don’t need this shit.” Danny starts to walk away and the others follow. Before he leaves Danny yells back one final thing. “My moms says to STOP CALLING!”

“Nah, save that noise for E.T! Maybe he’ll bring back your ride. Beam it down for you nice and clean! HAHA! Quit trippin.”

 “I’m out. It’s been a long ass week. No hard feelings. Later fools.”

Danny resumes pushing at his broken face as he heads back home across the street. The remaining members of his broken pack disband and head off into different directions. Shorty limping. TJ spitting blood and walking White Rob to the corner. Somewhere out on a curb there’s a black Impala parked on blocks missing a set of rims. Nothing out of the ordinary?

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Live baby live

Beck c/o Pitchfork

I could give you some witty buddhism but I'd rather give you... I want to remind you that making your own decisions is an active process that most people never participate in. Let's go back to an early moment. Shall we? In order to lose your temper and patience you have to care about someone or something... and in order to restrain yourself from losing your temper or patience you have to realize what someone or something really means to you. Crazy. Logic sucks, love doesn't. Love more. Logic less. Am I done? No.

A friend of mine, is a snapper. Snaps people in the loveliest moments, but he wanted to do something different. A while back I said why change what works for you. And he didn't. It still works. But it's not about him. What? The question isn't what, it's why? I'll go on... I wanted to quit writing. My friend and a few others suggested I change what I do and how. But it's not "what" is it? It's the why? Why can't you do it? It's me and how I let things affect me. So I continue and my advice to you: continue what works for you. Take in what you are given on the journey and release what doesn't work for you. 

The story is something I wrote a few years ago. Like most of the stories... I'm not in a place to share the new. There is new. It will come though. As an artist we are often not in a place to share and when the time comes, it does. I digressed. There is a time when people in our lives harm us, they dare to harm us, intentionally harm us.  There are times when people don't mean to cause us unhappiness, yet they do. Do we return the pain? Back to losing one's patience and temper. If you don't care, you can't be upset. The minute you realize you're invested, irritated and yelling, guess what you can't go back. It's in the same minute that you realize you can't hurt someone too, because you care. But do you take their shit? No. You do not.  Just like finding what works for you... you take what works and release what doesn't. And sometimes a person or thing you care about has to be the one thing you walk away from hurting. Love yourself more. 


Before it destroys you... (Live and let die)


“Kill him.” Jesse says. “For fuck’s sake what are you waiting for? DO IT!”

My hands shake with the very thought of it all as I hold the blade. Three feet from me sits the very object of my affection. Bound, gagged and blindfolded. He isn’t bothering to say anything as I stand listening to Jesse screaming ultimatums to my near left.

“You know you want to. Always killing. Destroy him like you did the others.”

It all seemed harmless enough.

It always does though in the beginning.

Somehow it’s become him vs. me and I’m winning. Where winning feels more like losing.

Now here I am holding the knife. Getting ready to place it to his head and slice in. That beautiful head I once placed hundreds of kisses upon is about to meet its last kiss goodbye from the tip of my sharp blade. Shaking as I prepare myself for what must be done. Inside the aching grows while the tears begin to fall. Silently I wait for him to start to beg for his life, and it never comes.

The executioner falls in love with her victim. The tables have turned on me and here I am. Unable to move while the rant continues to spill out. Words that knock the wind out of me more and more with their direct intent.


“I can’t…” I tell him. “Please. I don’t want to.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I don’t know. This is so hard.”

“It’s simple. He hurt you then left you like all the others. KILL HIM!”

“Not this time. He’s…”

My hand continues to tremble fiercely as I clench the handle of the blade. Looking down I can see the reflection of my lover. His tied hands shake with a stillness that isn’t unlike my own. The thin line of his lips rests around the gag as his breathing grows faster and quicker.

I don’t want to do this. But to show mercy at this point will only give confirmation of my feelings. I’ve never spared anyone the wrath. Not even Jesse. He’s been wounded by my own hand more times than I could ever count. This is different. There's this feeling inside that I can’t break free from.

“He’s no different than anyone else. Do it! Destroy him like you did the others.”

He was right though. I can’t lie. There were the others. I always killed everything. Not merely destroyed, laid waste to anyone who had crossed me. And now it wasn’t working. Here I am standing over another one and I can’t do it.

I shake my head, put down the blade and scream where I stand. This pisses Jesse off further. He doesn’t understand and I can’t make him see this my way. He reaches down to pick up the knife and hands it back. I still don’t want it. My hands keep shaking. And I can’t stop crying.

“I don’t want to. It's too new. And it’s not like…” I shove the knife back at Jesse.

He presses the knife into my hands. The cold precise blade sits between my fingers and I can’t. Quietly I look into Jesse’s eyes and release another wave of tears.


And I know he’s right. It’s my salvation. For some reason I’d rather lock myself back in the cage of destruction than kill this one.

There’s nothing left to say. It doesn’t matter what I want or don’t want. There is only one way out.

I walk towards him. He’s not struggling. I can see the sweat from his head slowly spill down his forehead. He looks as though he wants to me to do this as I approach. Standing over him I can’t breathe. He leans his head upward and back towards me. The tears are fresh down his face. I can’t see those black eyes but I know what they look like beneath the blindfold. The thought of their redness sends a shiver down my spine. Soon, this will be over.

“Why can’t you do this?” Jesse screams.

“I don’t know.”

“Destroy him. The same way he’s doing to you.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

“What choice do you have? You said he hurt you and it kills you. Make him pay for what he did!”

The knife is still in my hand. Every time I run my finger down the sharp edge I lick the top of my mouth looking for a memory. Desperately trying to remind myself what his kiss felt like.

I know I don’t want to do this.

Instead I want to touch his face with my bare hands. Letting my fingers trace through stubble before caressing his lips. After rubbing the back of my hands against his cheeks l lose them in the length of his hair. I want to run my hands through his hair. I want to hold him and find his kiss one last time.

“Please. I don’t want to kill him.”

“Look at what he’s done to you! You’re no good. You have no choice. Before this destroys you. You need to do it.”

In the end I know I don’t have a choice. If it’s going to be him dead or me dead, let’s just say I’d rather be the one living; the one that chose to feel and that's exactly why I'm walking away.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Tuxedo Park Mansion - Lindley Hall

Beck at the Hollywood Bowl. 2011.

Oh there's nothing like a handsome man in a tuxedo, but then again there's nothing like a fabulous home dressed to the nines either! Barbie does enjoy seeing both! However, she prefers her favorite Ken in nothing more than a comfy shirt and his favorite jeans. She's more impressed with his wonderful intellect, talents and happiness than how much money he spends, who he knows, where he goes and what he wears. Barbie finds that Ken wears himself quite well already without need to prove more like some other showy Kens that she sees in the world. Tsk tsk you showy boys!

Tuxedo Park Mansion

"Designed by the Beaux Arts-trained Vanderbilt cousinWhitney Warren—whose firm, Warren & Wetmore, penned the blueprints for Grand Central Station—this stunning American chateau is known alternately as Crow's Nest or Lindley Hall. Built from local field stone and brick, the 25,000-square-foot mansion displays the architectural influence of France, but with American materials. Crow's Nest was constructed for society banker Henry Whitmore Munroe and features an astounding 17 bedrooms, nine bathrooms, 17 fireplaces and a host of old-world finishes. There are rooms paneled in intricately carved African mahogany, an elegant formal living room, and a glassed-in, oval conservatory. All of this is set on fifteen forested acres with a swimming pool and tennis courts. There is one downside. In the 1960s, ownership of the mansion passed to a Catholic college, which added a large, unsightly classroom wing to the rear of the building. The cost of demolishing that eyesore has, according to former tenant John Foreman, "intimidated subsequent owners ever since the house reverted to single family use." Still, it remains a rare and wondrous piece of Gilded Age history, today listed for $12M. · 23 Crow's Nest Road [Town Residential]" 

Would you live in the Tuxedo Park Mansion? 

Barbie would and thinks you might too!

Kisses, m.