The difference between leaves and not just seasons, character, writing, reading, theatre, film (I love film), surreality, character that unravels from the inside, subtlty, humor, conversation, road trips, vistas, confidence, expression, being, constant learning, constant striving, the journey, walks, Golden Gate Park, decadence, rapture, words as they yearn to communicate, social and political theory, exquisite morsels, sensuality for its own sake, people watching, hiking, trees, rain (especially warm rain and puddle jumping), fitness (mind, body, soul), integration, passionate people (there has to be more than a pulse), culture, giggling honestly and laughing unabashedly, long mornings, late nights, possibility (making it real, come .., the taste of sunsets, pomegranates, unraveling, not being satisfied with fate, integrity, orchids, sincerity (I love sincerity), knowing every day to be an adventure ...
Music
Pixies, Radio Head, Miles Davis, Billy Holiday, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Postal Service, John Lee Hooker, Pink Floyd, Iron and Wine, Calexico, Morphine, Death Cab, Elliot Smith, Mark Lanegan, The Clash, Velvet Underground, Tom Petty, The Specials, Classical, Mike Doughty, Esquivel, Dylan, Jimmy Hendrix, Taj Majal, Hank Williams, Nick Cave, Willie Nelson, any good car music, Nina Simone, Beni More, Tres Ponchos... I am very very drawn to interesting moody music with good lyrics...
Movies
Angel-A, City of God, Thin Red Line, The Elephant Man, Room with a View, Delicatessen (all Jean-Pierre Jeunet: even Alien 4), Tampopo, Blade Runner (strictly the director's cut), All Cohen (sp?) Brothers, Solaris, Rosencrantz and Gildenstern are Dead, Full Metal Jacket, Casablanca, My Life as a Dog, Touch of Evil, Blue (Fr), Almadovar's Work, Shadow of a Vampire, Noir in general, Deep Blue Sea (it's funny -- intelligence is evil), 2046, almost all Kubric, Platoon, Miyazaki, Grave of Fireflies, Life of Brian, Mullholand Drive, Eternal Sunshine, Fists of Legend, Ridley Scott rocks, No Spielberg, and many many others... I love movies!!!
Television
They're mostly all filler... the white noise of modern life. Besides, real life is almost always way more fun. Sometimes I really like filler.
Books
The Plague and all Camus, Confederacy of Dunces, The Castle by Kafka, Beyond Good and Evil, Canary Row, The Alchemist, Who Doesn't Seem to like Master and Margarita, Shakespeare, Gargantua and Pentagruel, e.e. cummings, Wallace Stevens, King Leer, Hamlet, Kahlil Gibran, Twain, Kuhn, Pablo Neruda, Rilke, Wuthering Heights, Stevenson, Burroughs, The Little Prince, Crime and Punishment, Gibson, Ray Bradbury's story about the Sea Monster and the Lighthouse from Golden Apples of the Sun, Faulkner (As I Lay Dying), Joyce, Marquez, Blas de Otero, "So it Goes", ... Important warning: I HATE AYN RAND and find it apauling that so many find her self-indulgent pseudo-intellectual masterbatory crap eddifying. Ah!
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"Sexual Water" by
Pablo Neruda
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Rolling down in big and distinct drops,
in drops like teeth,
in heavy drops like marmalade and blood.
rolling down in big drops, the water
is falling,
like a sword made of drops,
like a river of glass that tears things,
it is falling, biting,
beating on the axle of symmetry, knocking on the seams of the soul,
breaking abandoned things, soaking the darkness.
It is nothing but a breath, more full of moisture than crying,
a liquid, a sweat, an oil that has no name,
a sharp motion,
taking shape, making itself thick,
the water is falling
in slow drops
toward the sea, toward its dry ocean,
toward its wave without water.
I look at the wide summer, and a loud noise coming from a barn,
wineshops, cicadas,
towns, excitements,
houses, girls
sleeping with hands over their hearts.
dreaming of pirates, of conflagarations,
I look at ships,
I look at trees of bone marrow
bristling like mad cats,
I look at blood, daggers and women's stockings,
and men's hair,
I look at beds, I look at corridors where a virgin is sobbing,
I look at blankets and organs and hotels.
I look at secretive dreams,
I let the straggling days come in,
and the beginnings also, and memories also,
like an eyelid held open hideously
I am watching.
And then this sound comes:
a red noise of bones,
a sticking together of flesh
and legs yellow as wheatheads meeting.
I am listening among the explosions of the kisses,
I am listening, shaken among breathings and sobs.
I am here, watching, listening,
with half of my soul at sea and half of my soul on land,
and with both halves of my soul I watch the world.
And even if I close my eyes and cover my heart over entirely,
I see the monotonous water falling
in big monotonous drops.
It is like a hurricane of gelatin,
like a waterfall of sperm and sea anenomes.
I see a clouded rainbow hurrying.
I see its water moving over my bones.
Heroes
All Great Satirists, The humane & passionate. Awful question in some ways, for I would rather be the person I admire than look up from under and unworthy. I think we constantly have the ability to become who we want to be. Admire? Certainly. There are many I admire, who inspire me -- sometimes only in the secrets of my memory. But, knowing the point of the topic, some few I admire: Camus, Nietzsche, Van Gogh, my father, my best friend Heidi who's love validates my strange being and faithfully lets me be my self, those with the courage to live passionately themselves always, dream chasers, great lovers, Umberto Eco, Hamlet, oh just look through my stuff... Any way as for aspiration ---
"When a true genius appears, you can know him by this sign: that all the dunces are in a confederacy against him." - Johnathan Swift - may I be so lucky as to one day find myself in the frenzied center of just such a confederacy; then I will know the taste and not just the dream of hope. Until then, let me belong to no group other than that animal group we call, somewhat generously, human 'beings'. That group seems currently to need the most help with organizing its members.
Pneumatic Devotion's Details
Status:
Single
Here for:
Networking, Friends
Orientation:
Straight
Hometown:
Illinoise, but raised in California: OC, Sacto, SF
Body type:
5' 2" / Athletic
Ethnicity:
Latino / Hispanic
Religion:
Other
Zodiac Sign:
Taurus
Children:
Someday
Education:
College graduate
Pneumatic Devotion's Schools
New York University
New York,NY
Graduated: N/A
Degree: Master's Degree
Major: Draper Program
2008 to Present
University Of California-Berkeley
Berkeley,California
Graduated: 2004
Student status: Alumni
Degree: Bachelor's Degree
Major: Rhetoric (Public Discourse) and Interdisciplinary Studies (Self and Society)
About me: "This is what is sad when one contemplates human life, that so many live out their lives in quiet lostness ... they live, as it were, away from themselves and vanish like shadows. Their immortal souls are blown away, and they are not disquieted by the question of its immortality, because they are already disintegrated before they die." - Soren Kierkegaard
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I am a proper noun, and improper in so many clumsy ways. So much of what is known of a person is the subtleties of experience and desire worked into their ordinary details: the things they smile about, their eyes, the way they take their coffee, how they sleep. The dark depths and the pretty shallows. Shoals of dreams, swimming in chaos and paradox. All things sensual are fragile to some degree. My mouth struggles around vowels I can't pronounce, names that can't be said. What I want is what is genuine, amorphous, and free to become what we believe into being. Why are people so afraid of feeling, so detached from what they are? Meaningfulness is a better goal than happiness... to savor and find the rare. Find what you love and hold your ear to its chest. I suppose I don't understand many people because all they seem is destruction and numbing: no passion, no thought, no attachment ... and I can't stand the violence of that. I think that sensuality is proof of life and don't trust people that don't like food or senses... they have no art. Nothing that is not only about pure experience, the intuition of feeling.
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I believe that there is nothing more important in the world - especially considering what a brief flicker this certainty is - than to love and be loved for all of who we are. In quotes because why should I stumble and grasp for something already better said: "The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves." -Victor Hugo. Now, if it weren't so very difficult. Perhaps I should learn to listen more than speak. Thanks to those that love me despite myself.
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"Either we have no dreams or we have interesting ones.—We need to learn to be awake in the same way:—either not at all or in an interesting way." ~ Nietzsche, who was vastly misread...
Who I'd like to meet: Those who cultivate and nurture the delicate and the beautiful. The appreciative and creative hearts that understand the strength of meaning and the boldness of being gentle.
Interesting people that actually have something to say that isn't just a ploy. Oh -- and while I believe that people have the extraordinary capacity to be amazing and beautiful creatures, I find it frustrating that 99.8% of the population seems a bit on the grazing side of life for f*ck sake. Consumption-driven people that are just going to post me half-naked photos with over-compensating muscle cars and ignore everything I may have to say please just show a little impulse control (trust me, it's sexy) and DON'T contact me. Hard as it may be to believe, I don't need you and you probably wouldn't like me anyway. If I just wanted to get laid, I'm sure there's a site for that too -- and several hundred other ways. Besides, pretty and dumb just isn't my thing and I still believe that there is more to sexuality than opportunity. Trust me -- you will not like me. So again: please refrain from lame zings. Just look for the obviously needing-validation girls that really need you to fill their partial identity and will conform their Cosmo-plastic personalities to the mold that best fits your faltering ego. The two or more of you will be plenty happy lying blissfully to one another and remaining lonely but distracted per the rules of those mundane little how-to books that treat people like math functions... soooo tedious. And please, don't think this some sexy tough-girl challenge; power-plays don't belong in my boudoir. I really really mean it.
The great thing is not having a mind. Feelings: oh, I have those; they govern me. I have a lord in heaven called the sun, and open for him, showing him the fire of my own heart, fire like his presence. What could such glory be if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters, were you like me once, long ago, before you were human? Did you permit yourselves to open once, who would never open again? Because in truth I am speaking now the way you do. I speak because I am shattered.
It's so nice to hear from you and yeah, I'll get the best of the best scanned and put them in a zip for you. Again thanks you for such a hospitible and memorable time. Know that some of the best times involved just you and me and a living room. So either way, whether I went out and got sloshed or stayed in with you I had the best time possible. I love you.
"human tedium exceeds geography." that is so true. i recently wrote, as the answer to a new year's survey question: "what did you learn last year?" : "that it is not easier to be in love with a city than with a person." so true.
your inner being / weather comment reminded me of a line in one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets. like, top five, top ten of all time, out of thousands. louise glück's book of poems, "the wild iris", winner of a pulitzer prize, incidentally, is one i think that would speak volumes to you, and is where i'm getting this poem. (i hope myspace doesn't screw up the linebreaks.)
Matins
The sun shines; by the mailbox, leaves of the divided birch tree folded, pleated like fins. Underneath, hollow stems of the white daffodils, Ice Wings, Cantatrice; dark leaves of the wild violet. Noah says depressives hate the spring, imbalance between the inner and the outer world. I make another case--being depressed, yes, but in a sense passionately attached to the living tree, my body actually curled in the split trunk, almost at peace, in the evening rain almost able to feel sap frothing and rising: Noah says this is an error of depressives, identifying with a tree, whereas the happy heart wanders the garden like a falling leaf, a figure for the part, not the whole.
long winters do that to me too. i have recently discovered how helpful it is to plan at least a weekend, towards the end of the deepest parts of the cold and grey, to go somewhere sunnier and warmer, to remind myself that the sun exists. my friend jimmy told me about an experiment involving some scottish sheep, who were apparently very depressed :P, lying around sulking in the grey scotland winter--the scientists took the sad sheep on a vacation to florida and the sheep suddenly started smiling and frolicking in the sun. is a funny story, but it is good to keep in mind when the hours begin to wear on.
i honestly don't know how you survive in nyc. i could never. too much concrete and steel and glass. i need green things, life around me. even as beautiful as paris is, i found myself grasping for beauty towards the end of the cold, and not finding it within myself, or anywhere else. last winter i hit bottom pretty soundly. this winter, it was only my trip to the sunny south for four days that carried me through it. thoughts of summer. and making it a conscious point to go stand outside on every sunny day, and look up at the sky, letting my eyes and brain soak up the sun. it's really important to do that. this is the first winter that i did that, and i was surprised how much of a difference it made.
program? are you planning to stay for a while? what's up? sounds like fun!
Yeah, you better write! it's what you do!!! It's ok about Joanna. I'm just glad she's no longer suffering. She was in so much pain and it was so hard to see her like that. She was always so strong and independent. It was a hard end for her but she did it gracefully.
hey you :) was good to hear from you! sucks though, i can definitely hear in your voice that dulling effect of being the age that jesus was when crucified--you sound tired. speaking of which, how was your easter? don't forget, it's also the age when he was reborn out of the easter egg that is this mortal coil.
hmm... if we follow that logic to its conclusion, i guess one could say that heaven is probably a lot like an omlette... :)
i do hope that the fullness of spring's promise quickly finds the seeds of your discontent under the thawing, watering snow, and that your dry and wintry words grow to find a new life in the new season, in the sun, and late night nourishment from the hushed white mists under the summer moons to come.
keep me up to date with your paris plans. i really like playing tourguide and can help you navigate a lot of the quotidian details. can also put you up on a really comfy couch if you need a place to stay.
Cristina, Cristina, Cristina... you have misspelled 'appalling,' 'masturbatory,' and 'anemone' in your ranty profile. You need a copy editor. I need a babysitter.
well shit....I'm glad I'm not you! lol. Stop thinking so much and just go with the flow woman. I feel the same pains you do. ESPECIALLY about dating and men in general. Cherish your friendships and family. Everything else goes the way it's supposed too....I miss you. It's been YEARS since I've seen you. Hang in there babydoll, you're wonderful and loved by many <3
all goes well chez moi. i hope all goes well chez toi, even if i know all goes horrible when one writes the best... enjoy, therefore, the misery, and write soon, in figurative terms or explicit terms. it's all the same difference to me and you know it. talk soon, best of love, yours, des biz, j
Ha Ha...SEX, I know you mean the sparkling wine, they don't sell it around the corner anymore, they have replaced it with BITCH, only in the Castro. I was in NY in Sept. It was really hectic staying in NJ two tv shows with GC, a night at BB Kings, shopping downtown and visits to my mom. I'll be back in 09 and will call U for sure. The kidz are fine and looking forward to their christmas treats, for them it's always christmas. miss u too...xtina...
thank you darling! That was very sweet of you. I will tell you all about the horridness when I am feeling up to it. No worries. My internet is stolen & intermitent and I'm home with a sick kiddo.
Hi there! So fun to hear from you! Oh how good that cannoli sounds! I wish you coud not only give me one, but that I could sit somewhere fun with you and indulge in them and some hot cocoa too and chat about silly, profound, meaningful and meaningless things -Like the Walrus, let the time come where we two can "talk of many things: Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- Of cabbages--and kings-- And why the sea is boiling hot-- And whether pigs have wings."
I miss you and love you and send you all my best vibes ...
