“Safely secured a nib into our pens” by Julia on her bed

Monday April 6, 2020
9:00pm
5 minutes
Rosemary And Oranges
Patrizia Chen

I feel safe is I hold a pen
powerful, dragon slaying
is I know how to j and m
is here’s a thought followed
by another as it should be

I feel secure is I keep one
in every pocket of the house
is know I’m ever only a stone’s
throw until my next word
is find ink in my sheets

I feel okay is I will fill
this notebook up before the
end of the month
is look at all the perfect ls
looped
is tell the dream in blue or purple

I feel alive is wake up
to a blank page
is wait up till I can no
longer see by the light

“Basta!” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Saturday October 4, 2014
6:02pm
5 minutes
Overheard in Piazza Bellini

I’m writing you a letter. This isn’t it. It’s on the kind of fancy paper your grandmother might give you, with flowers in the corners. It’s written in blue fountain pen ink and stamped on the envelope with gold stars. I’m writing you a letter because I have something to tell you that’s too hard to say with a voice. It must be said with a pen, with blue ink, on fancy paper.

Remember when you dreamed in colour? Remember when you know the recipe for chocolate cake without looking at the card, dotted with batter, from previous summers? Remember when you drank iced tea by the mug?

“you now take a pose” by Julia at Saving Gigi


Friday, March 15, 2013 at Saving Gigi
2:35pm
5 minutes
Beet Salad
Bryan Demore


Course you want to fly away and visit your ancestors. Trust me babe, I get it. Everyone needs to get away sometime. They all say…ahem…we all say we need to leave this city and just go find ourselves. Why would we say that if we didn’t need it, truly. You know? But you leaving for a whole year, backpack or no backpack…is it the best idea? Will you actually be visiting your ancestors? Or will you just fly to the neighbouring country with a bunch of young hostel-stayers from Australia and take photos of you all wearing head wraps and smoking from a hookah pipe? None of which would be bad, by the way, but if we could all just be honest about what we expect out of these trips…or what the purpose is, you know, then it might just be a bit better. I mean, here, I wouldn’t say I’m going to France to visit the art. That would be maybe like, I don’t know, 2 percent of my entire trip. The rest would be shopping, and touring, and have I fully connected with myself?
Babe, no, I’m on your side. I’m not saying you can’t also find yourself while shopping, but just, hey, let’s be a bit real. And like, if we’re being real, then maybe we can assess if we really need to be gone for a whole freaking year. By we I mean you. Yes.I know this has nothing to do with me. This trip. It doesn’t.

“you now take a pose” by Sasha at The Good Neighbour


Friday, March 15, 2013 at The Good Neighbour
2:11pm
5 minutes
Beet Salad
Bryan Demore


You carry a small hardcover notebook in your back pocket. Your jeans are faded around the outline of it. Most people think that it’s a wallet, or a cellphone. I am the only one that knows the truth. You keep your pencil in the inside pocket of your jacket, navy green plaid. It’s mechanical, the anti-thesis of you, but it’s efficiency is a constant inspiration. Sometimes you smell like last night’s whiskey, and sometimes you smell like bathwater with epsom salts, and usually you smell like shaving cream and Orange Pekoe tea. I want nothing more than to steal your small hardcover notebook out of your pocket, and take your dreams, your ink, your lines and your sketches. I’ll build something with them, I promise you that. I’ll build something you couldn’t even think of. It will be strange and towering and most likely held together with fishing wire.