zilo

like a nomad

wandering hands

feel and find their way

faux toes.

i received an email today from a man in montreal. a friend of his recognized me on his artist website of cuba travel photos. photoes. faux toes.

so i was sitting with c-la and her family at a cafe in old havana.  a man approached: he asked to take my picture: i obliged.  months later i found myself contemplating the journey of the photograph and its ability to do what no other medium can: infinitely reproduce a single moment in time.  if later i cannot recall this moment at the ease of the photographer while glancing through his portfolio, who then owns that moment?  with an othering gaze the lens blends me into the exoticized scenery. the shutter clicks. into this mans portfolio. a prize. a “rasta girl.” one to be flaunted, never to be known. who cares? I am a ((n)idealized?) moment hanging on a wall somewhere in north america, suspended in zeros and ones on your screen. portraits. hmm. think before you shoot.

uppers

mmmmkay. not too sure about how i feel in regards to posting old material. i figure it should be on the ninternets though. almost up to date.

a non texticular transmission

need to spend more time alone and freak out less. Im in Ottawa where the wind blows right tween yo toes despite yur boots. grimace through the slush. mush! mush! Lots of poetry shows, visiting art galleries, trying to find a lil cheap nook to call home across the world, gorging on tasty mama love food that is free, old friends, face painting, silly dancing, lots o drawing, too much rum that I brought back from cuba along with 8 packs of too strong cigarettes n a box o cigars. Its been great to be home, not be in school or working like a mad woman.. this has never happened before. I still feel like I am perpetually jumping between worlds trying not to forget the last and embrace the present while bracing for the future. i am a geographical twitcher, shape-shifter nomad and eye hees tie-red.
mmmm
i hope things are well with you. that you are happy with your art and that christmess wasn’t too maddening for you. J’espère que tu écris encore des chansons, des poèmes et que t’es proche de trouver quelque chose qui te fais complètement contante. Aussi que t’as pas perdu ton “sourir qui fait fondre les coeurs” (C-la’s words not mine).
rawr
j

and release

tracing trendy tribulations

ink quill & water colour

letter to a friend:
oh my goddess just what I need babay. somma ting new n saucay. get me outta da rain it drains it drains. Hope all is well skeet skeet all ova aussie streets gon melt some panties and live in dem shanties. busk n husk that corn shells shorn all yellow and sweet underneath make ya wanna move ya dancin feet. en serio chica chafe ya cha chas on down tew Coo-bah drop dem drawrs make em want mawr. Mawr. mawr said the seuss cat with a rat-a-tat-tat, said cat sued the doctor the verdict read she wasn’t a proper proctor