goodbye LO

After an unnecessary break, i am back to writing Lo.  

I'm unsure if I'll share excerpts any longer. Apropos; I've considered the ability of it's future, my future. The result is the realization that it's akin to me, my baby; my first child in literature. The birth of a dulcet child. Fully aware of her pathos, dripping of piteousness, but never seeking attention, for she is not one to display doting attributes.

will i ever find someone to sit with me, (maybe on a swing) and read lolita out loud. yes, that will be the preliminary question from here on out. (the one to weed out the rotten legumes). oh how you've taught me, shown me, and formed a new soul.  one that has been brewing long within. and how wretched it would be to taint a sweetness as agreeable as me.

no longer will this be a mess. say goodbye to this docile girl. i'll have it all under control, i'm glad to let this go.

potting

(belle fleur de lis)

Helped my mom pot some plants in the garden outside (before the rain comes). Drinking an iced coffee anticipatory of a sunny day. The clouds came over, preparing for one of the last rainy May days. I have to work tonight at a wedding function. Part of my job is going from the kitchen, across and through a wildflower jardins, up some stairs, into the hall (where there will be around 75+ people). It's absolutely perfect and quaint for weddings and events. See here.

same thing everyday

I'm glad I'm not the only one. Same outfit everyday. Right now I have about 7 items of clothes that I wear. Two pairs of cropped trousers, a yellow leather belt with gold, one grey tanktop, another yoga tank, 2 blazers, and a skirt. My room turns into a disaster when I need to wear something besides the two tanks. And let's not even begin with having to choose between runners, heels, sandals, etc. 

Anyways, I usually find one outfit, and will wear it two days in a row, or more. With slight alterations. Very slight. Over on Dead Fleurettes thankfully the habit now feels somewhat normal. 

Things like these are trivial, yet true and needed to be shared, explained, or blurted in order for them to pass.

workaday world

"Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life."

—Confucius

A little lesson if you're miserable where you work, or in what you study. There is always another job, another place that will accept you.  Truly and honestly what matters is that inner satisfaction. We are task oriented beings. If we do not "work", we become slothful. Life is a leisure, and it should also be filled with pleasure.

bjork4ever

 (from elmundonadie)

sometimes the things i do astound me
mostly whenever you're around me
lately
i seem to walk as though i have wings
bump into things
like someone in love

par swan body queen, double/triple/ ++ bun, baby bb; bjork.

ecouter, ici.

no weeping.

Sadness overwhelmed me this morning, with a disappointing piece of information in the mail. I did not get accepted into the "Creative Communications Program" at RRC. I was informed to work on "Spelling and grammar" as well as the "Variety and quality of work in portfolio". I agree entirely, of course I have no choice otherwise.

It's always upsetting to not get what you want, but in more ways than one I still am. I recently got hired at The Uniter.

For the sake of the argument, if I had got in to Cre-Comm, I wouldn't have been able to continue writing due to the schedule and load of schoolwork. I thoroughly believe that I have growing up to do. In general, as well as in the world of academia. I'm stubborn and have issues with deadlines, grammar (obviously). I don't know how to write for someone else. So, I need to perfect my self-editorial skills as well as the ability to constructively write essays, papers, etc. Oh, and most most most important, I need to learn how to NOT spazz out before tests.  

This summer is going to be an exciting one. My 22nd birthday (not a big deal other than I plan to spend an entire day at the beach with my best friends), Europe trip, and doing some major writing work.

I've picked some of the courses I would like to take, including:

-Intro to French

-Social Psychology

-Interpersonal Communication

-Contemporary Communication Theories

-& my science requirement.

..and the list goes on.

This seems more up my ally, observing the way humans socialize and react as well as some experimental linguistics for fun.

the tangibility between

(Long ago) I wrote about how wild, raw, natural, real, etc you are. That still stands, you know this. But the issue at hand is what we have not developed in any area except the one that we have nearly  perfected. Can we work it out? 

That's always the question. Will it become tangible? We are absolutely drawn to another, the distance away from you makes my entire body ache. But elongated nearness makes me just as sore. What is this?

As I near the ending of More Die of Heartbreak (many die of radiation but more do of heartbreak, but no one organizes against it), with each page turn I am seeking this answer out. I turn to Bellow for descriptions of busty women, spinsters, offbeat botanists, and faint lovers. Why not this?

exploring what makes...

She is crazy for everything, and anything. 

-CVanG

DITSY/ DITZY

Exploring what makes a "ditsy" or "ditzy" person, mainly me. Wouldn't investigating this characteristic I've been deemed as, immediately eliminate me from the runnings? Apparently not.

Well, urbandictionary.com states; to be ditzy/ditsy is:

1. A person that acts like a blonde or is hyper all the time.

that girl over there is ditsy because she didn't take her pills today.   

Let me just point out that the descriptive sentence is excruciatingly demeaning, and doesn't really apply to the fact that it's trying to describe. She is hyper (ditzy), when she takes her pills but is ditzy when she forgets to? Doesn't that make her forgetful. I mean, I'm sure there are ditz's out there who forget to take their pills, but they are not just women or blondes. There are crazy and male ditz's, too.

2. Jessica Simpson

Er, moving on.

3. Slightly out of it, and don't know what is going on.

Now that is better and more accurate description of myself, but still I prefer not to be a noun that is jumbled in with some of the above categories.

4. This word "Ditzy" is often used as a way to negetivley called a blonde haired women (typically blonde haired) stupid or not in tune with the world

That hot chick at the bar is so Ditzy 

Okay, so who wrote this entry and forgot to edit it. A complete ditz, I'll say.

Alright, I feel as though I've proved my point very accurately by leading you through this Urbandictionary.com definition.  Let me ask you just a few things..

A) Can ditz's effectively lead someone through an argument- and win? No.

B) Can ditz's edit their own material? No, they don't have attention spans.

C) I didn't forget to take my pills today, nor do I take any.

and

D) Did I confuse you at all? If so, feel free to label me as you will. Spacey, random, out of it, or ditsy. But know this; I will refute you with motives stronger than your desire to stir me.

(all articles are extractions from urbandictionary.com and have not been edited)

Chad Vangaalen- Diaper Island CD review

you changed your name. you changed your number...

 and i still feel strange, and i ain't ever gonna change.

how are we going to say we're sorry, this time?

Literal and musical brilliance. Absolutely absurd and positively hilarious title. Chad VanGaalen presents, "Diaper Island". Is this a good place to be? Or bad. I'm unsure whether I want to join. If it's an island full of babies needing their diaper changed, forget about it. However, if it's an island full of babes- count me in! 

Diaper Island is CVG's  fourth album, released May 11th, 2011. There is always that fear that one of your favorite talents will release a dull, dry or "not as good as the last one", -type album. But that's not the case here thankfully. Chad's enthusiastically still offering us effective prescriptions of that  same soul-haunting, melancholic caliber of style that he has previous shown, in songs like "Willow Tree" and "Cries of the dead" from Soft Airplane (2008) or . If that's what your seeking. 

He also explores important questions and demands of women. Yes, really. Proof;

"Maybe if I shave my pussy, you will love me. Baby, will you love me, I'm really feeling ugly."

This is an important statement he is making in this song. Or maybe I've mistook it's overtly feminist undertone and exaggerated it somewhat. But, here I go. The message is an attempt at saying; this is the standard in which we seek for (something; anything), and here is how it really is. Why don't you want it? It's an expensive habit to keep up in this falsity, why won't you accept me for my fuzzy, natural self? Why can't you? It's rhetorical, but real. Why do we seek this idealistic (fake) person, place, thing. "I really don't get how we can move through all of this mess." We should just accept the natural self, have natural love,  and be natural beings. Er, either way. Fantasy meets reality on Diaper Island..

In A Lonely Place

 (ou est cette photo?)

In A Lonely Place

"I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me.  I lived for a few weeks while she loved me."

being second twice doesn't put you in first.

All you can feel (in under a day)

Waking up (first thoughts are about homemade breakfast biscuits with egg and cheddar cheese), stumble out of bed after a elongated extended stretched expanded rest, fully at ease.

My last shift at Breads and Circuses is coming up (it's the end of an era) and the fall of a great place. So sad, however I feel the future is illuminated (things are going my way), let's just say..

Writing is what I like to do (most). It's the easiest task for me to do. I got a couple writing gigs going on so I like where I'm at, which is also free of retail or restaurant work (other than being additional help for family business). 

A reoccurring issue (if you can call it that), or more so feeling, experience, etc. Cliche to say it, but I've been getting out of body highs. Sober from booze for one week and they've doubled in frequencies. Completely mirror image (is my world). I'm upside down. In the trees, the grass, frolicking in herbs. I don't know where I truly am, but I'm not in my body that's for certain. Maybe I'm just in an extension of my âme.

Tomorrow, I focus. All those tedious things must be done, like make appointments for interviews, phone calls, emails. Modern day treacheries. Can't I just write you or make an appointment with your secretary? I wish. Patience was key in the olden days, I bet.

I started translating "Gravity and Grace" par Simone Weil in French. It is great fun but takes a full nights sleep, so that's what I'll get for myself right now.

The sun is out (most of the time). Et je suis contente, en petite peu.

it's all about us.

all about us.

there's a theme they can't touch.

people in love spend a lot of money on cherries.

among other things.

always, always bellow

renoir


The petite system a part.

And in every breast, there's a glacier to be melted

Getting into the dodge you felt the warmth of her bust before you felt the heater

manitoba "mountains"

An old tow rope; 

remnants of ways to get up a hilly Manitoban slope.

date at the park

 

avec moi et moi aussi.

Some literary functions over at galactic equations.

here, ici, ici maintenant.

growing up, maybe.

growing up; big girl. or trying.  ridding of old clothes

trying to find a balance between work appropriate yet youthful

not the easiest of things to do i'll tell you

blazer/ purse- vintage, heels- Charlotte Russe, trousers- Club Monaco, Corsette- F21, P

hidden bottle of wine- Frontera

Growing up traits: Organizing my head, my mind, my life. Exercise is key; eating right.  Reading the news. Steam baths, manicures, pedicures. Trying to look and feel focused on a career. Interviews, for the bad or good. Looking at houses, having one picked out (just for me).

Feeling young still: I don't sleep much, at all. Not working full time. Being summer and feeling often unmotivated or lazy. Laying in bed for hours after I open my eyes. Odd jobs to save up for big adventures. Wearing corsets and max height heels. Rolling my eyes. Attitude.

earthy

going just over 105 i drove

a nice little getaway;

hideaway trove

 par cleo blue.

It's easier to leave before being left or witnessing the subject or object or individual deteriorate into oblivion. The final state of realization; meeting the void. Dark tunnels in the caverns of the mind, close them up, fill them with air and actuality. I wish you'd breathe it in with me, too..

blues

dining room table takeover.

Hiding inside on this rainy day. Chronicling my late spring blues into art with dashes of 'work'.  All those things I've got to do before I take off to the lake for a few days are going to add up pretty fast. But who cares, I'm getting away to get away from the clutter anyways..

le tourbillion de vie

This curious smile which had appealed me so.

Her so fatal voice, her beautiful pale face

Moved me more than ever.

I got drunk while listening to her.

Alcohol makes you forget about time.

I woke up feeling

Kisses on my burning hot forehead

We met, we recognized each other,

We lost touch with each other, then all over again,

We met again, we left each other,

Into the swirl of life.

écouter ici.

brunch

 happy momma's day.

always with you-under the moon

sleepless is (me) + the m00n

endless are thoughts of you

under the brigade

of millions of mini-solar-like suns

deosil; done over

fragments of what was wrong are gone

late night (and delayed) replies to montreal & south korea. positively thriving in arts & craft

madame et monsieur;

you'll hear from me soon

slowly; Lo

We all walk, we all go places; or try to get there. Pens have been more faithful to us than man’s best friend. In fact, they honorarily hone that title in my books. Pens remind me of times. Like when? Blots of ink on this page. Stains of pasta sauce, coffee drips, they’re all romances reoccurring slowly, a fast paced upset moment of the past. They all remind me of Lo. Because in those widowed moments I know she was not mine, nor would she ever be.

interview par/ avec moi

1. scotch moss & plant shopping

2. greenhouse roof

3. grandaddy outfit doing grandma things

Today (the most beautiful); is one to indulge in. Birds are chirping away. Lawnmowers can be heard from all angles of the ear, and I'm soaking up this May sun as if it's my last moment on earth. Isn't that how is should always be. Besides living luxirously in my back yard... I have spent many hours thinking about me. What I want in that big long damn thing called "life". To get to know myself better, and also for you/whoever clue into who this ramblin' woman reeeeeeally is, HERE I GO:

Who are you? rL or Louis-L?

Technically, neither. Really, my name is Riel, and my Last name is Lynch. Riel, after the pride of Mantioba; Louis Riel. That's me.

What do you do?

I don't have a profession, yet. Just your medial 21 year old; trickling between serving jobs, trips, and  dousing myself with peculiar university classes.  I write for Stylus Magazine, which is more so along the lines of what I want to do.

Who's your favorite author?

Right now I'm positively fixated on Saul Bellow. But there are  others who have been prevalent for longer. Such as Micheal Ondaatje, Jack Kerouac, Richard Bach. Poetry is a whole different story as well. Favourite poet is hands down Walt Whitman. If I never received "Leaves of Grass", as a gift, I don't think I would think the same way as I do now.  He opened my eye to exploration techniques both in writing styles and truly exploring the great outdoors.

Which movies do you adore?

Jules et Jim. The Heathers. That Hamilton Woman. Butterfield 8. The Bicycle Thief. Barry Lyndon (and anything Kubrick). Anything by Woody Allen. Up! (the pick-me-up movie) & anything with Zooey D. Recent additions: The Lives of Others, Water Lillies, The 400 blows. I haven't seen anything in theatre since the live feed of King Lear at the Donmar in London.

Music?

Whatever I'm in the mood for, really. Mostly classical composers like Boccherini, Mozart, Strauss Jr, Rossini, Debussy, Chopin, blaaaaaah blahini. Newer artists? Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, The Shangri-Las, The Rolling Stones, Jethro Tull. Even newer or local are ever changing and inconsistent.

Food for thought?

Juicy pear jelly bellies. Real juicy pears. Mangoes, avocados. French toast. Thai food. Pho.

There we are! That is all and enough.  I must go enjoy nature as I've grown bored with myself and being indoors on a laptop..

little fridge lessons