Tuesday 31 May 2016

Journal # 05.31.16

The mercury climbed to triple digits yesterday, and i went to see a film with a friend. My car was black and when i got back it had melted. The movie was about human relationships and all the actors cast as themselves. One of them died on screen so we could get our money's worth. Well he was killed.  You were talkin to me in the parking lot and i was too shy to ask if we could take it to the sidewalk, so i stood there mindless holding my breath. I had no money left and the sun cooked my car. We could not decide if we were happy or not that the actor got murdered. Because it was a movie, we paid so we could weigh human lives like gods. Yet we had no say on the thermostat, and alternated from too hot to too cold and back. I was worried we would be hushed cause you kept talkin during the film and i shoulda hushed you myself but you were too goofy to be hushed. I coulda died in the dam parking and bled sno-caps for all i cared.

passage from Ame and the Tangy Energetic

"and together they brought the vines smashing across the windows and tearing apart the floorboards, and breaking apart the furniture, the shark fins cutting into Black’s skin and the vines wrapping around him like a snake, yes, she saw a snake in her mind, a silver snake, and the snake was like a secret gift from a friend an ally, like a ring on a finger, she thought, and god am I losing my fukkin marbles but it’s beautiful! and there was the light in Ame’s eyes, the savage blue like the deep waters through which the great white hunted the Atlantic, but the brutality that had so torn her up back then, the very night she met Ame’s boyfriend finally, Maze, and they had taken the subway under the earth and across the San Francisco Bay, for she remembered asking Maze for the window seat and steaming the window like she always did, and wiping it with her arm, and the funny look Maze gave her when she leaned her face up against the glass so she could watch the tracks with one eye and watch the passengers with the other, the look he gave her like why the hell are you doing that? and she didn’t care cause she was able to lean into a nod and look less foolish this way than that, and then Ame turned around from the seat in front, to face them, and was just the nice girl who befriended her back when she was living in that decrepit former nunnery on Lake Merritt and nowhere to go, but afterward, after that really cool show in the Mission, the coming back with a rumbling and rush of air and sound as the train picked up speed in the tunnel heading home to Oakland, this time she sat up and next to Ame who was going on about having been a rockstar for a minute when she got to draw a soup spoon like a bow across some DIY instrument was supposed to pass for a violin, and they were laughing and then when they stopped and the train came up for air, there was a strange tension reminiscent of some intangible tucked far away in her past, a bad energy; and her high was wearing thin but whatever it was was picking up the slack and she saw both Maze and Ame fixed upon someone in the train, and then she was hustled off the train by them at the Broadway station, wondering why the hell they didn’t go on to MacArthur seeing as she was hoping to hit the Imperial where she was staying with Bless and Freddy, and where her secret stash of Somas and Percs were gonna help her to sleep, but she followed them out and up into the street and the Paramount Marquee was all lit up towering over the orange of a Broadway night, and sure enough they were following somebody, and she got a real uncomfortable feeling like she was about to be an accessory to a crime, and sure enough she was"  

- drafted from 'Ame and the Tangy Energetic' (Daughter of Darkness #3) .voice of Kell. coming this summer to an ebook store near you

Monday 30 May 2016

flash #

our courage
in the sun was
to be seen
in the light

to be lost
was bold under
cover of

Saturday 28 May 2016

categorically. in the making of taking

Self-denial... i practiced it for years. I realize I get set back like anyone, all the time, and it's painful trying to fall up into the goodness of affirmational living, but it's worth the effort once you get there, self-crystallizing and shining again amidst your purpose on this hot spinning earth... I think it's funny over scrambled eggs and patty sausage in a booth at my favorite lucky American diner to be across from a new friend whom I really love, listening attentive as you try to read my cards back to me... but it gets harder when you tell me who I am and what I need.  I have been depressed since the day you met me, as though it were news. I remind you ima fucking depressive, okay, you just cannot take some things off like clothes, but are you so sure it's a crime in the making of taking my life from me with my permission, as samsara goes -- are you really gonna go there? yes you are -- and you know, I got those butterflies in my stomach immediately, like we do, seeing the truth there and deciding to come to terms with my anger around it. Oh! to absorb how someone honestly sees you. Full well knowing it's brilliant for anyone to take a risk and share how they feel, and celebrating this rather than pushing it away like you wanna. Especially a new friend whose got that courage, thank you. I thank you... and I categorically reject your attempts to tell me who I am and what I need. And it's okay that you would wanna tell me, because I do know that you only wanna help anyone and yourself and why not me, sure, of course, and you are more than a decade my senior and quite a professional from what I understand, a state worker, a really nice lady who loves women, not unlike me who loves women and men even if I don't trust most of them, and a high energy consciousness here in this booth electrified with boisterous argument. This is good. This is beat. This is more of what I want in the world, I think. Challenge my ass, sweetheart. This is my impression of you. And you are impulsive and perhaps insensitive with others whom you hope to understand. And that's okay, too, please, be that way with me! Make those mistakes for me to absorb and reflect and correct. It helps me to see the deep rootedness which causes my categorical defiance of anyone and your guesswork on me. I am no stranger to myself today. But I only know it cause I was lost for so long. I had to get lost to find myself and my heart and my spirit and my passion and my obsessiveness. And here it is, again, staring me in the face and demanding I walk it down twenty-first street and pink-colored dogs behind plate glass windows and a belly full of coffee and write it down!  link to my book

Tuesday 24 May 2016

GWB - Video Book 1:6:1

the pinnacle effervescent

my wattpad story, continued...

Going solo and burning bright into the night was one thing, kicking it with friends and new friends all day was something else. Both made Antipathy feel extra special lucky. She could be a loner for sure, but if she ever felt lonely she tended to reach out. You could say she preferred being alone when she wasn't feeling lonely. But having good friends? This was the pinnacle effervescent.

They mostly had a good time this very day, the three of them. Dagger was a very kind boy and perhaps a young soul. He knew how to listen and laugh, and he didn't always have his hands in his pockets where you couldn't see them. He was pretty expressive really, for a boy, and Antipathy was paying attention. Of course LilBit kept poking and prodding her like she was livestock. See my new ring? she said, I'm gonna get married... he's short, light and ugly. Of course she was lying. Antipathy whinnied and pulled away and snorted, and LilBit reigned her in by her necklace.

Dagger watched the two girls and wondered how many lifetimes they had been friends. He really admired girls for their friendships, which could be deep like submarines. He had friendships with guys which were close but in a different regard. They would show up for one another and be there to help out in various ways. They didn't always wanna talk, but they would be there. He thought of his friend Matthew and you could tell it disturbed him.

You see, his friend's family was a car wreck just waiting to happen. Matthew was full grown now and had shown up his dad. He couldn't continue to watch his family be torn apart by this mean and abusive man. So one day he stepped in between. His dad began trembling, unaccustomed to his power being challenged, and tried to strike him. This was about a year ago, and since then it was a contest of wills to see who was gonna be the real head of the family.

Dagger told the girls the story, speaking mostly to LilBit who he knew best. But Antipathy was right there listening, too, and would not forget the part about how Dagger's friend Matthew's dad on several occasions told him and his siblings that he put them in the world and he could take them out if he so chose. The subject dropped pretty quickly because it was disturbing and Dagger didn't wanna spoil the pinnacle effervescent.

When she felt she oughta remember something, well, Antipathy would. She was like one of those cafe baristas whose been trained to remember your name, and surprises the hell out of you when you show up a week or two later and they know who you are, and you have to look at their name pinned to their shirt in order to properly thank them, and then they surprise you again cause they know you like the large iced almond milk latte, easy on the ice, too.

Saturday 21 May 2016

Friday 20 May 2016


my Wattpad story continued...

The flashback ended when I made it to LilBit's door, not a block from the train station; the man and the truck and the Olds vanished in a puff of powder blue smoke. I rapped my knuckles hard in morse code - SOS - my dad once taught me. I walked pretty fast to get ahead of my tail. I sure hope LilBit knows morse code, but it's a long shot. I hope she's not flossing. She is such a chronic toothbrusher. Her breath smells like Baking Soda and mint. Everyone loves kissing her, even her friends make out with her just for fun. It's really good practice for the real thing. I mean Love.

I am thinking this will be like all the movies that ever lived, you know, the door will open and my friend will let me in just as the man (my tail) reaches out for me and I will escape danger. Life sure could learn something from the movies.

LilBit does come to the door in time, though we would have to wait here and shoot the crap for a little while to let the man catch up, to make it come off like the movies, in the nick of time. But nobody's watching or sitting on the edge of their seats or anything, so what would be the point? LilBit shows me her whitened teeth and shows me in. She is about to close the door when she spots my tail and calls out to him. Dagger! Whatcha up to?

I feel like spilt milk as the two of them embrace and start laughing over some insider joke I am on the outside of. Come in, come in! she begs, and Dagger follows us into the Belly of the Beast. Her apartment, I mean. I jackknife myself on to the couch, LilBit cannonballs beside me, and Dagger politely and carefully drops into an armchair across from us, and I suddenly feel rather silly for having been worried about him.

Baking Soda and mint. LilBit kisses. My life is complete.

Wednesday 18 May 2016

chloe the pthalo cyanine blue

This would be her signature, chloe, a touch of pthalo cyanine blue. i saw a photograph of me and you. it made me sad. the tears i cried were turpentine they washed the memory from my mind. skated gainst a one way street, 5am, in the shirt you gave me. i was sad about me and you - oh - the trouble we got into! ridin the back of a dubstep beat, it's too small for me now looking up; balanced on the tracks of a Canada rail, cyanine blue (and she) come by air mail. can we wash it one more time? liquid dreams and turpentine, wash it all away and leave her empty, pthalo blue, deeper than the sky and the chalk on the cue. side pocket holdin the chain you left me, and change. can i stop by an give you a kiss? for the flower you shown its color in the sun. pthalo cyanine blue, the signature touch, cause you loved me and i miss you so much.

Tuesday 17 May 2016


we were kids we carried book bags we threw rocks at each other for fun we drank milk and ate cookies and laughed crumbs and stamped them out with our kicks with our boots with our sneaks with our heels with our might, we cried and we raged and we kissed -- harmlessly -- and if the winters storms had blustered and the snow had fallen and melted and then frozen overnight well it would break loose when we thundered down on it and you could hear the earth cracking under us and we laughed fearless, convinced we would never ever never ever never ever ever ever, die

Sunday 15 May 2016

Journal # 05.15.16

i am quite certain these past 6 days my subconscious made possible. of mostly lying around sick with headaches and sore throats and cough and cold symptoms and fatigue and a little asthma. coming out of it now, slowly. i was full of worry and fear beforehand, an impoverished mentality to which i was bound,  i must confess, most of which has now fallen under and been buried by the malaise of the body. i believe that without the opportunity of ill health, i may have remained indefinitely in that inextricable place i had gotten myself into unwittingly through my routine. a non-creative place. a linear establishment. a far cry from freedom and flexibility. of course my WIP fell to the wayside. i still have not settled back into Book Three. but this time i am no longer so worried about it nor fearful. part of the trap i fell into was reading contemporaries in my genre and comparing myself against them. this is only a part of the story of my missteps of late. sacrificing momentarily the appeal of my style which not only draws me but has drawn me some onlookers from faraway places. my style which must be enough on its own. the fullness. the fulfillment. all of that is there, waiting for me still, calling me back like sirens, like songs, like dreams, like love.

Saturday 14 May 2016

lost in books

When I was a little kid and the youngest of my family, I remember there was a lot of safety in intimacy I mean touch, there was a lot of playful gripping and holding and caressing and embracing, playful fighting and running and pushing and pulling, between kids and kids and adults and kids and friends and cousins and kids and family, there was a lot of charging and edging and rolling and rough handling of me, picking me up and tossing me in the air, or letting me get on your back or sit up on top of your shoulders when I was young enough to be light enough to be carried that way to be held that way to be safe that way and those days were so wonderful they could not last long enough. There was even a sad time somewhere when I could not reach out to you - nor you me - and I knew not what to do with myself, only get lost in my books.

Friday 13 May 2016

WIP. plan of attack. (with loving kindness)

Strategy... (reimmersion campaign)

1 - get head out of fog  (yes. established) deeper sleep renews!
2 - attend to physical  (ongoing)
3 - re-reading David Copperfield. learning from Dickens style (ongoing)
4 - sit my ass at desk at home  (fail fail fail!)
5 - consider rearranging furniture. laptop on couch. switch rooms (last resort)
6 - attend to spirit (ongoing)
7 - prayer. journaling. sunshine. caring (move toward causes)
8 - channel switching (yes. more guitar. running. cycling. walks)
9 - minimize netflix (body at rest)
10 - maximize housekeeping (body in motion)
11 - memory (what you do that makes you feel good)
12 - attending to needs vs desires (self-discipline)
13 - work = freedom (purpose)
14 - coffee (is my drug) in moderation
15 - mindfulness. slow but certain

Goal to complete and publication
reality: June / July 2016

Nothing is possible without
attitude of loving kindness

Thursday 12 May 2016

the bell tolled six

She hid in the garden. They knew she was hiding – she always did. Supper went on when the bell tolled five. When the bell tolled six she was gone. A lady with a boy had been seen on the grounds that day whom no one had seen before. She lied to the girl and tricked her away. The boy was used to lend verity to the fable. They did not know she was loved and missed and desperately needed. They only had to have her to mend a broken circle, at the center of which was a terrible secret needed guarding.

smoke rings

the fog
i sucked
out my head

to blow smoke



My skin so thin and traveling has been hard to endure no matter how local it could be the neighbor and dare i dial your number and be confronted by you and me. My mind unreal looks for finality in rituals which have no end. Shopping the last pear half or double dozen of egg. Wishing i may never bleach the bathroom again.

All work to go away with every single necessary interaction. The ceasing of small pleasures even, only to take more sleep. Only to dream nightmares more real than conscious reverie and only to wanna end to those, too, and only to wake to more dishes and emotions to contend…

and the very great pressure of you 
waiting for me to prove myself real.

seas. teas

Morning birds
calling me to
show up

green tea

i am mad as

Wednesday 11 May 2016

Journal # 05.11.16

I have been troubled. My mind looks at the walls and searches for symmetry. In the paintings and photographs. Everything is off and even the new front door they fit, is off white but I like it. Still my mind rummages around when there's central work to be done. My biggest responsibility may be to silence my mobile phone. Welcome to 2016. The little things. Seems I lost my state of mind to some sorta civil war with every other neuroblast taking sides. Divisive. I demand a united front. Summer is on the way and here's hoping we both get hot.

Monday 9 May 2016

go slow. go quietly in your creative process

Imagine if you slowed your process down and watched it, played it back for yourself like a film. Yes, you can drip all the butter you want on your popcorn. Just eat one popped kernel at a time. Taste it. Lick the butter off of your fingers very carefully, like you are giving head. You can put your legs up over the seat backs cause you are the only one in the theatre. Ladies cross your legs, just in case. Someone always prowling in the darkness, maybe come off the screen and wanna be with you. Hopefully its the hero or heroine, and don't you dare make love to yourself, it's a cardinal sin, if there was a hell you would go to it but mostly we agnostics know you would just feel bad about yourself and sick to your stomach. This is a work of fiction cast out from the booth in the back to enlighten the screen for your eyes, you who receive. Imagine the warm blue light triangulating out into the darkness and above your head. Closest to the projector you can even see the air we breathe is swimming with dust. Our lungs must be ingenious. Focus on your breath as the numbers count down from ten, with an old radar-like image and a line traveling clockwise around back to midnight and the numbers fall and the excitement of what's to come... What's to come out of process, is more process, the consequence of process, the marvel of creation, making our lives one brilliant second at a time as we go. Swimming through our lives and slow it down commensurate with a wave. We are fragile. We are breaking. We are falling in love again.  xxxxox  KatYa

Sunday 8 May 2016

Process #

What with the predawn birds and Claude Debussy this morning after a vibrant night of dreaming, I am overcome with a fullness of spirit. The milk. The coffee. I was beginning to think I would never finish writing this novella. Oh! The simple wonders of the world. How things may change in an instant!

GWB - Video Book 1:4:2

Wednesday 4 May 2016

cold. the purple rain

Cold, cold, the rain when you got a million fans and you're gettin older and life is painful, seems it always hurts as god is your witness. Cold, cold the rain as you set your jet on target for the sun. I saw you there, once, dressed in black and white. Caught in the electrical storm, can-not-rise-a-bove-the-pur-ple-rain. The pills make it a little easier and won't take you down, no, nothing can. Nobody can tell you what to do, your music heralded all around the world and god has blessed you, we held you here on high. Cold, cold the rain and you gave away the umbrella. You always liked it raw. Any stage any auditorium any stadium, the people they lined up for you. Cold, cold the rain falls in Minnesota. You gave us hope and power and free-dom-to-cre-ate-our-loving-selves. You gave me power and hope. Cold, cold the rain, the purple rain, tonight it falls for you.     - 2 Prince. love KatYa

five four sixteen go

All was so promising so walk around the streets not made for walking. Step in front of the cars and ask for a ride. Someone gives you one. A big guy who used to drive a truck but now he's on disability, threw out his back. The fixed income has him stationary mostly, except when he gets behind the wheel of his powder blue Olds. Makes him feel young and picking me up reminds him of the sixties when hitching was proper. I can hold this hope with you, my friend. Fuck it. Roll down the windows and roll up a joint and let the edge off. I can feel you steppin on it, you take good care of it. We are together in this as the numbers roll over to zero. The sun hasn't changed in all these years, and tires are still made of rubber and pressured air. I lay my fingers on the back of your neck, and you smile and push down with one arm hooked out the window, the other latched to the top of the wheel. It's gonna be a brighter day than most.

Antipathy and the Six Million Villains - Part 7

Sunday 1 May 2016

Antipathy and the Six Million Villains -6-

My super sky blue kite hurled itself into the ground, stabbing the earth when the wind no longer had its back. Oh how it shuddered all over before falling flat on the ground. Only the skeleton held up at the cross. How nice when someone has your back, I thought, you can even touch the sky! For a spell but don't count on it lasting. I pulled the string off of my toe and rolled it back onto the spool. My poor toe was ringed in red for a while where the wind had left its mark. All the blades of grass rubbed up against me, supposing they had a chance. A girl doesn't take her ring off for nobody.

I got on the subway which could very well have been super the way it jumped up out of the earth at times before slanting down and diving back into the darkness. The halogen lights stayed flickering on all the time so we could read and see one another and maybe not be scared. There's a difference between a commuting train and a roller coaster, unfortunately, and nobody much asks about your commute or if they do it's only because they don't what else to talk about and god forbid the silence. I imagined if there were no lights other than the sunlight, how all the cell phones and kindles would show underground and the people holding paperbacks and newspapers would all collective sigh and have to wait for a while, or god forbid meditate in the dark. What this Faux Froid culture of fear might do.

There was a man following me with his eyes and then his feet, as we stepped off onto the platform at Lil Bit's stop. I had a feeling it wasn't his stop unless it was mine. Just a feeling but you know how they're always telling you to trust your intuition. I had a block to walk to get to her house, which was really just an apartment but nonetheless a home. I might only have to wait for her to answer the door. I tried to calculate in my mind the number of seconds I would need to escape the grasping arms of the man, so I would know exactly how fast to walk.

I sure hope Lil Bit's not flossing her teeth when I get there. She can be a real perfectionist about her teeth, you know.  -- Read the whole story: HERE