2001-05-28 10:50 p.m.
don't hurt the goat when you're having drinks

mmm...decompression time.

Dan's being an indecisive tit, and I honestly don't feel like writing comics right now, so I'm getting on here.

lucky you. ;)

actually, today's been interesting. I'm already 50 pages into Augusto Boal's autobiography (a Brazilian theater director/philosopher who teaches people to use theater for sociopolitical ends), and despite the fact that it's the story of his lineage (with some anecdotes that remind me of Mario Vargas Llosa) and growing up on a farm with his relatives (and tales of slaughtering livestock that make me glad I've gone veggie)...it's all quite upbeat and engaging. There are photos of him on the front and back covers, and he seems like a bright and jovial guy. I want to get through all of this...well...I don't know why. I did a workshop on Forum Theater and Theater of the Oppressed while at Emory, and I want to understand the man who came up with it. If nothing else, it ought to be a good read. I'm also mixing into my reading pool the "Cradle Will Rock" companion book (just to see if there's any source material I missed the first time though) and back issues of The Drama Review.

Why all of this theater bollocks?

Well, I'm working on my "magnum opus" (which is Latin for "longform comic book that I had an idea for three years ago and am just now getting to"), which, ideally, I want to have theater theory in my head again when I get back to work on it, for the spirit if not for the form. I want to reboot the world with two college biology classes and a theater degree's worth of knowledge. ;) no wonder it's going to be unstable.

I'm also going stir crazy in this house, which means that I have to go to The Strand tomorrow and sell some books for cash (maybe trade so I can have more crap to read)...never mind looking for a new job. (Again, I'm in no rush on that account...I want to get ready for San Diego, and the writing is more important to me.)

I don't know if I'm going to be ready either. What I've got burning in my head is kinda halfassed, and pulling it together in short order isn't necessarily the best thing I can do for myself, but there you are. I'd rather go and make a bit of a fool of myself and meet shitloads of people (I really want to hook up with some artists for collaborative purposes, editors that I can milk, and just good frickin' people to drink with), than screw around in Brooklyn for another year while I get my act together. Jobs come and go, but creative work can wait forever if you don't get off your duff.

I'm also stupidly horny. That isn't helping the situation.

I keep coming back to places and moments, and reading the diary I referenced an entry or two ago just wound my shit all up.

(If you have some built-up impression of me as a 'nice' guy (read: fairly sexless), do or don't read, depending on how necessary that perception is.)

Now, some men would just want to have some crazed marathon fucking session to burn off the built-up tension, etc... not me...well, not *just* that.

I thrive on all of it...sounds, smells, the quiver down a woman's back when you first start teasing her with your tongue, finding the right spots along her back or along her arm or the diagonal of her neck that makes her lose it... the playfulness when you both realize you want your hands on the other person, and it comes in fits and starts...dancing in the kitchen, leaning in to whisper something on the train and smelling anticipation...massages...tickles...

and that first kiss...sweet christ. where your tongues meet and it's like you're two deathly thirsty people in the desert, and it's like a fugue and it's like digital hardcore...you rise and fall and explore and repeat and cycle until you're both out of breath. sex is fun, but I can't imagine it without the rest... the tastes, the flushing, the gasps of another person.

more another time.

left turn:

drinks are on with K. for later this week. I wonder how that'll be. I hope I can let my brain loose and not be tongue-tied. Hell, she's an art student but fairly shy around me, so I don't know exactly what's up...but we should have some things to talk about. Anything's better than talking about my old workplace. Talk about played out.

I'd rather go have drinks...take silly photos in a photo booth...talk about books we've read, places we've been, things we've done and want to do...I'd like to draw her (despite my meager abilities). I find her intriguing, and she makes me wonder what's beneath her light exterior. She's already dispelled some ideas I had about her.