AUGUST:

11th
Petaluma, CA - The Church House w/ At All Times, Body or Brain

12th
Arcata, CA - The Yellow House Infoshop w/ Restrained, The Separation

13th
Portland, Or. - Sorority House w/ Xrin Arms, Stepmother

14th
Portland, Or.- House Show (tba)

15th
Seattle, WA - Healthy Times Fun Club! w/ cut loose, bow + arrow, midwife, alaskas

16th
Seattle, WA - tba

17th
Day off, chillin hard

18th
Olympia, WA - Old School Pizza w/ Funerot, Cut Loose, Tommy Tricker

19th
Tacoma, WA - Adam’s House in the woods w/ Death Raid, ?

20th
DRIVE

21st
Sacramento, CA - TBA

Watch these in the order I’ve posted them for everything to make sense. Essentially, from the mind of Matt Hewitt.

Image 1: Chelsea, you are funny.
Image 2: Photo by Abe (& I wanna’ visit New Orleans)

Just excerpts, most of my favorite parts are missing. I wish I could find the tape I had of the whole movie. It’s been years.

Oh cool. One of my photos was featured on fecal face dot com’s photo of the day blog(?) thingy. That’s fun.

I talked to AeRi last night using Skype. I’ve never done that before. Apparently all it takes to use is a computer from 2007 and a microphone from 1973, then anyone in the world who has similar equipment can hear your weird digitized voice through a speaker.

All is well in Napa. Mom’s doing okay. Hoping to make it up again soon since I barely even got to hang out with Thomas. Next week maybe?

Quit smoking. Make a movie. I will turn twenty-five on August twelfth.

Okay, so I managed to break my (totally awesome) fifty year old Nikon SLR somehow. I’m not really sure what I did, but I pulled it out of my bag about a week ago and the damn rewinder was suddenly busted. Probably set my bag down too hard at some point- so dang, bummer. I’m sure it’s affordable to fix (eventually), but sadly this still means no cool photos for a while. I’ll have to borrow a camera from someone for the August tour since I refuse to go back to taking digital photographs again. Oh yeah, I lost my quad-cam somewhere too. What a shame. I was having a lot of fun.

C’est la vie I suppose- I’m too full of summer induced joy to even get all that upset about it. In lieu of the photography (and thanks to Tara and Matt) I’ve decided to get back on top of making silly videos. I’ve got a few planned out for the weeks to come, but here’s one that took me literally about fifteen minutes to make last Tuesday night:


Gosh, what a list of things to finish by the end of the year. Comics, zines, movies, installations, websites. I hope my current enthusiasm does not wane. I hope I hope I hope.



S U M M E R

I woke up this morning, hungover to no surprise. I am not old. Not quite twenty-five, but the closer I get to totally decrepit the more I ponder on my personal vices and their toll on my body and brain. Am I slowing? I seem to have more aches and pains than ever; certainly I’m not an ecstatic person in any sense of the word either. My drinking I know is reactionary to my mood, I certainly do it more when I’m down, but what is it exactly that makes me ‘happy?’ I wouldn’t say I suffer from any sort of crushing depression. I’ve got ups and downs like everybody else. What confounds me I suppose is the instances in my life that I can remember being fully satisfied with every sense. I like weird things.

-Shoving Mikey’s busted van down some bumfuck street on the outskirts of Austin Texas in the middle of summer. I was parched and panting, feeling as if I had just taken an uncomforable nap on top of some giant hot vagina. Still, that last block, despite the screams of my muscles, found me grinning like some madman and I remember clearly thinking that I had never felt so invigorated.

-Delirium induced pornographic drawings with Thomas on a two day Amtrak trip up the West Coast, yelling at two racist old fucks for wagging their fingers at us and accusing us of terrorism. Drinking red wine the whole damn way. I wish I still had that notebook, or at least a photograph.

-Being yelled at on Ocean Beach in Japanese by my then girlfriend because I couldn’t be bothered to try to understand her point of view in English, and a year later standing in the snow, first I’d ever seen as a matter of fact, pumping quarters into a pay phone and crying to one another. Suppose sometimes the best romance is the most volatile.

-Nick trudging uphill in the rain with me in his arms, taking me to the hospital for internal bleeding and a thirty-thousand dollar medical debt.

-My first experience with FISH FUN.

Looking at this quasi-list of favorite stories to revisit just prior to me sleeping, I see the pattern. Some time of total discomfort and tribulation followed by near immediate reward. Also the shared experiences with people who I truly find wonderful. So how do I attain that feeling of both stress and anticipation of joy, which as it seems I find more exciting than joy itself, without losing my mind? Do I run away or stay inside? I have no clue what I am trying to accomplish in this world other than hedonistic pish posh. I focus on gloom and doom too much alone, meanwhile life is so strange and sweet.

Forget the human condition. How about we teach the goats to write novels? Anyone?


A house near the beach in San Francisco. I’ll put up more from this roll later.

Petaluma BPoS v-a-c-a-t-i-o-n FEATURING: “Vitamin Piss”

Photos Pt. One; Church roof and actions interior:





Photos Pt. 2; TIRES!:

END

Snapshots by me w/ Andreas’ camera ‘cept the last one. Nick took that. We had some fun.

I’m gonna’ hit the scanner by the end of the weekend. Toon in!




Space ain’t the place. The inter-war is.
All my modern heartthrobs died eighty years ago.
Workin’ on workin’ my cartoonin’ hand better.
It’s ruff stuff, but “you can’t rush the sunset.”

The minor poet prepares for his life from the toilet. Or at the bathroom party maybe I will see my friends there. Short stories, see?

Best Spitzweg in my opinion. I look at this one a lot.