“all the facts” by Julia on her bed

Saturday October 12, 2019
5:33pm
5 minutes
From a quote by Wendell Berry

It’s a long weekend. Fact.
Or wait do you want to know
if it’s a fact before seeing
the fact?
Or do you wish to decide yourself?
Here
is an example:

FACT: it is a long weekend.

Here is
another example:

I am funnier without the pot?
FACT

See how one is a call and response
and the other
is some kind of proof or statement
not up for debate?

I am not sure why I am asking you.
You are not me and I know the facts
about me and what is true. And
yes some of them are facts about life
but it is I who is experiencing
them and therefore I can say.
I can also say because of poetic
licence which you do not need to
pass a test to get, but that you
must be willing to risk something.

FACT: I RISK
even when I am scared

I risk even when I am the only one? FACT

The strength is in what I am trying to convey
and maybe it’s not always a fact
or never is
a fact but the point is that
in this moment of telling you
it certainly is because I’ve
committed to it on this
document.

This document is proof: FACT.

FACT: this document is proof of me risking

“Art making as a playful, life-supporting activity” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday August 20, 2019
6:15pm
5 minutes
Quote by Joseph Zinker

i throw my hands into the muck
praise be i have muck to touch
and if i touch the much with my
hands then i will not need to shit
talk any of my friends or any of
the people i say i’d never be
friends with and why do i ever do
that when my life is good, really
good, do i think it’s funny or do
i think my good luck might be
running out and this might be
the end of the road, heard it
here first i am back in the muck…

i throw my brush into the muck
and paint a horrendous image
of beauty the way i see it in my
head and i don’t stop until the
whole canvas is brown and ripped
i thrust this much and that until
i am fully fledged and humbled
like i must be if i am to create art
or if i want to be alive among
humans and give art that comes
from the knowing that we are
so similar that this is an extension
of everything, that you and me
are either both clean, or both
in the muck even if it’s not the
same time

“sister don’t mind that I’m not on time” by Julia at her desk

Wednesday June 20, 2019
7:10pm
5 mintues
One Day
Sharron Van Etten

when we don’t respond to each other’s letters
that’s when I’ll know
they can be late but not too late
not as an afterthought but as a delayed
gift, a here is everything i missed from
then till now, a few more times I thought
of you, reminded of you, the flowers that
are dried between the tiny book I made you.

It will be entitled “Lately”
and in it will be all the times I connected
the dots between our hearts and thought
to tell you about it in a fine blackwing pencil

-Or-

We might not find another night apart
as long as we both live
I have already held magic

from the corner of my eye I see you lift
something and begin
I think you’re playing my ukulele
and it sounds beautiful and then
I see you were just holding a loaf
of bread in your arms and I do not
love you less but more more

“I now busied myself in preparations” by Julia at her desk

Thursday June 6, 2019
6:37pm
5 minutes
Jane Eyre
Charlotte Brontë

There was much to do. Much much around and in.
I simply would not stop my legs or my hands,
drumming my finger tips on every surface and edge.
Company was coming, as it always does, without
enough warning and I was alone, as I always am
without enough time. I had yelled for Kilner to
stay home a few moments longer but of course,
his presence was demanded elsewhere, even though
I can’t imagine what could possibly be so important
at 10AM on a Sunday. He threw on his jacket and
left in a hurry, so I believed him when he said it
was urgent, and in fact, life or death. Sidney coming
to brunch was not at all life or death although it
surely felt like it. She perpetually had her nose
turned up toward the sun, as if she had asked a
doctor friend with time to spare if she might
stitch it there for her so it never moved.
I would never go to another woman’s home and run
my finger along a baseboard. It’s the single most
offensive thing you could do. Of course, I appreciate
cleanliness too, but the difference is, I’m not a monster.

“It depends how aware you are.” by Julia in F’s kitchen


Saturday August 19, 2017
9:53pm
5 minutes
Lennon on Lennon
edited by Jeff Burger


walking eyes ground walking walking
don’t stop moving eyes ground further further

count cracks sidewalk busted bruised gum gum gum somebody’s bad decision spit shit cigarette butt

empty sky sun alone head no where near the clouds but in them with them nothing around

five dollar bill twenty cigarette butt shopping list bus pass toothpick

hands stuffed into jeans pockets bursting ripped and bleeding bang into the cyclist crossing chipped lips

shuffling pushing one foot next foot walking running listen for the lights to change beep beep at your own risk

seagulls pigeons balloon string toilet paper hat full of coins people people everywhere there here up down

“As the vibrations release” by Julia on the 7


Friday June 2, 2017
3:26pm
5 minutes
Freeing the Natural Voice
Kristin Linklater


Theta waves on low hum, you don’t seem to notice, so I keep it on
under all conversation and creative thought
Later on, you tell me something strange is happening to my computer, a motor too big for a laptop that small
I debate telling you the truth, experiment interrupted, you can in fact hear it, and decide to give it up
You’re not angry, you think it’s funny but I am angry because vibrations are not funny
I am only embarrassed for a minute when you describe the motor sounds that you were wondering about for 6 whole hours
I am embarrassed for thinking your brain would understand

“LYING TO TELL THE TRUTH” by Julia in the kitchen


Thursday October 20, 2016
11:04pm
5 minutes
from a workshop description
Johnny MacRae


Sat still with my mouth shut
didn’t know if I should breathe
Didn’t want to let it slip out
and seem like I had something to present
I wanted to say more
I sat stiller than I thought I could
Waited till the silence doubled itself before
I let myself exhale

In the space between me getting enough air and you sucking me dry
there is a house.
Nobody wants to live there
It hurts
It is blessed hot and cursed
incestuous
I wanted to say more

We wither and die in the shape of our smallest self.
We do not notice how far from the sky we have sunken
But our bones know
And a child who spends two minutes with you will know
And every time we and you and I
hear the words
I’m proud of You
we will all know
And there will not be enough time

“EARLY BIRD” by Julia on the 506 going east


Monday December 16, 2013
7:12pm
5 minutes
From the sign on the wall

Audrey was picking her nose in plain view again. There were many possible judgers but she stopped caring right after Blair decided to jump off the shed roof into a kiddie pool with no water. She had stopped caring about much, if you were adding it up. Not traffic violations, not being polite, not her appearance. Audrey had a hard time caring too little. At first she believed if life was going to end it would be on her terms. She was running red lights every chance she got, she would purposefully buy expired meats from the deli, and she would wait too long to pee just to feel that burn. She wasn’t ready for Blair’s sudden passing at all. She didn’t ask for that. She wasn’t in control. She had decided that she would need to experiment more.