braving the waters

We did it. We proved too weak to withstand another night of 30 degree temperatures so we did what I have been dreading for months - we turned on the heat. To 65. 65! I get a mild stomach cramp just thinking about how much last night must have cost us - it might have been cheaper to sit in the car with the motor running all night.

It was worth it though. Worth it, even though it wasn't what anyone with normally functioning nerve endings would consider warm; worth it even though I still slept with a hat and three sweaters on; worth it even though the hallway would have been cozier.

Because there was something so delicious about laying in bed, under two down covers, next to a 200lb man and feeling like you fingers wouldn't snap off if your ventured over to the nightsand for a glass of water. Yes, it was that comfortable.

According to the weather people this weekend is going to warm up to around 50 or 60. Not much of a relief since for us that translates to indoor highs of 40 or 50, but hey, it's an improvement.

R's birthday is a week from today, but that's all I am going to day about that.

Oh my god it's winter

I have never been one to keep track of yearly weather patterns, but it seems like we are having an unseasonably cold spell here in Philly. Really? Hm. I hadn't noticed - I guess I couldn't feel the bite in the air through my hat, three sweaters and the sleeping bag I was in last night.

What frightens me is that it's not even Novemeber yet and the inside of our studio feels like a cave. It is impossible to move around and do anything - even eat becuase eating requires that you take your arms out from under the blankets. We just paid off our enormous debt to PGW from last winter. This month's bill was the first one that was for under $300 since we've been here, and I am frankly a little scared because we cannot have the gas shut off again. In the summer it's one thing - it's kind of 'cool'; you rough it just a little bit, take cold showers, microwave dinners - not so bad. But if we have no gas this winter we will die. Honestly. We will freeze - be found in our bed two well preserved specimens. It does not help that no matter the season, the temperature is more extreme on the inside. If it's 90 outside it's 95 in; if it's 30 outside it's atleast 25 in. You see what we are facing. It is even starting to sound more sane to live in atent in the parking lot than indoors.

And, don't let me forget to mention that if we do indeed get behind in our payments (which we will) we only get two weeks notice before they shut us off. No, no winter time protection for commercial gas customers. Thanks PGW!
Tonight R and I are going to check out space heaters, although I don't think that a $50 heater is going to do much to heat our 1200 square foot cave. Sorry, our 1200 square foot space.

I have finally finished my project on the Academy Mont-Cenis in Herne, Germany. It's a pretty amazing structure that produces loads of solar energy and additional power with mine gas - since it located right on top of the old Mont-Cenis mine. The coolest part about it is that it's a bit like Bioshere II - only it's more understated and hip than it 'let' colonize Mars' kind of geeky. You'll see:

Saturday night went way better than expected - in fact, it rocked! People showed up, the poetry was outstanding, and more importantly, R and I did not look like ass holes. Hopefully I'll be posting the poems and images on the other blog soon.

A few weeks ago I started a new schedule at work which allows me to take a day off to study and still work 37.5 hours a week. This arrangement is particularly nice because it allows me to indulge in my Patti Smith obsession at full volume. I have to confess that I feel more than a little uncomfortable blasting "rock n' roll nigger" at full volume during working hours. Maybe it's just me, but I have a feeling that it might raise some administrative eyebrows.
But this "phase" has reached a whole new level. I think about, or otherwise relate everything that read, see or hear to Patti Smith. Even I am slightly appalled at my own idol worship. It's a good thing that I have managed to keep my mouth shut (for the most part), or else other people might find out that I would rather be her than me right now.

Not that being me is so bad mind you. It's pretty good actually.

If only I could sing like that though. Just a little. I'd even settle for the growl.
Maybe I'll dye my hair black. It's been bouncing around in (not on) my head lately, kind of like getting a tattoo bounces around, - indicative I think of a bit of restlessness. And Halloween is the perfect excuse.

Shameless plug

Now that I have shamelessly plugged the open studio/reading I can admit that I am pretty terrified. We have told a lot of people, and while it is highly unlikely that many will show up it is possible that we have more people there than just close friends and family. And to see what? Our work? Not much has changed on the artistic front since I last posted here - still not having much time to paint or do anything else visually oriented, which as you might remember, has been fine with me. So why did I want to do this again? Well, I guess because sweating bullets every once in awhile is good for the soul.

And despite my terror at having our studio (which is also our home) opened as a venue to the unidentified public, I really am excited. From what Kathleen has told me the poets are pretty excited to read, and that makes me happy.

On a closing note I need to state that this month's obsession with Patti Smith is at it's peak. I need to give R a break from the Patti Smith trivia, so I'd be happy to gush about the woman I wish I had been named after with anyone as blindly devoted as I have become.

I love that she could be a badass while raising kids in suburban Michigan. Patti Smith is almost my mom's age, and I think that when she was living in Michigan was probably around the same time we were living in Michigan. Had things been different, had hospitals been less organized, names been switched, my parents blinded by confusion, Patti Smith could have been my mom. I would be Patty Smith.
I think the biographical similarities end there, but I sometimes like to think that when I was in first grade and decided I wanted to be called Patty, not Patricia, it was a manifestation of wisdom beyond my years; an advanced sense of who my heroes going to be. But really, Patricia sounds stuffy and grown up which is why still at 26 I opt for Patty. Campy and cute sounding trumps adulthood and propriety as far as I am concerned. I will never be a badass. I will never be tough. I will never be able to growl, and bellow, and yell like Patti Smith. But I sure can make cute animal sounds.

Exphrasis Poetry Night!

Ok folks, it's been a long time.

But this weekend is the last weekend of the Philadelphia Open Studio Tours and I am about to embark on a shameless bit of self promotion.

Come damnit! Because it's not just an open studio but also a poetry reading (and some non-fiction from myself).
It's Saturday Night (Oct. 14) Exphrasis Night at SpaceAged Beef will start at 7pm.

Here's how to get to SpaceAged Beef:
From Center City:
Take I95 North to Aramingo Ave/Betsy Ross Bridge (Exit 26)
Turn Left onto Aramingo Ave
Turn Left at Church Street
Continue on Church Street and
Turn Right on Orchard Street
4355 will be on your Right - turn into the parking lot and come on up!
(It’s the stone building with the black doors, 3rd floor.)

SEPTA:
Take the MFL to the Church Street Station
walk SE on Church Street for 2 blocks, turn left on Orchard

The reading is hosted by Kathleen Mulholland and will feature poets from Philadelia and the surrounding area. R and I will be showing our work. In my case I will be showing mostly older stuff, stuff relating to the Arturo Portillo Archive. From what I understand some people have written poems in response to some of these pieces and I really look forward to hearing what has been made of it. Not in any ego concious, self aggrandizing way, but because then maybe I can put whatevever lingering presence Arturo has in life to rest.