paris, you're next, thailand, you're up.

so the rumor's are true. i've said i was getting away from this place and i am.

i still love you LA, but i'm leaving you for a month and going to bangkok, mumbai, mauritania all by myself to shoot this film.

so long, so long.

fly me to the moooooonnnnnn

so i think i decided that i am going to start writing my book now.

it's about love (of course). it's vignettes of people in my life that i loved but didn't or couldn't tell...so i'm somehow telling it in here

telling them in someway or somehow that i do...love them.

thailand, india, africa

Three continents. Four weeks.

I'm doing a documentary film about urban poverty. Thanks everyone @ Servant Partners for making this happen.

maybe we're only meant for each other in hot weather

only the summers
only the days that are short
only the days when we both have to go
only the days when we can't afford to be with one another

i only pretend that i forget
but it's like you're ever present and never left

and somehow in unseen dreams and powers
you know that i really cared

one day we'll meet
and one day i'll say it.

this one's for you.

he calls her sweetheart and sings to her everynight

makes me want to puke, but it's also kind of sweet.

he told the heckler to shut the fuck up and hugged her congratulations.

it scared me, but then it made me admire him.

he calls me 'girl' and buys me burgers, and tells me his love stories.

he stops his act and told me he doesn't want to be that anymore. i'm the only one who knows.

he asks me to meet again to reconnect and i never show up. but i think about it time to time even now.

i pretended to sleep that day in the car because i was afraid you'd read me. and you did but i denied it. i made you unsure.

i heard you're leaving the country. but i say we'll run into each other again. because i believe the forces of hearts and missing.

thank you

for inspiring me tonight.

you're my type, nhs...

You know the feeling
You enter a club you visited around 10 years ago. You meet a girl (well, or a boy) you loved years ago (but never told her in the past). You eat a pudding you had as you were a kid. Just some examples of many.
Well, the point is, today - when you got back to the club, kiss the girl, eat the pudding, it taste and smells like you remembered. If you look closer, some things definitely changed during the years.

Probably, the people in the club changed. The girl got married and got kids (well, not in that order) and, yeah, she just looks old. Well, and the pudding has this new fancy package, brrrr. Things [partly] changes and nothing lasts forever.

So with good ol' boy ths.nu.
You always have the feeling, you know that guy, you can trust him, everything looks familiar. It's like you are sitting on your mums legs or listening to good old 80s heavy metal music.

To: Latino, Dannypsays, & Snoops...

K, i finally dug this up from centuries ago... hahaha. omg. ..dannypsays...post your sexy one up too...latino-i remember yours was flying on da roof. :). snoopy, did u even do one? i wanna i wanna i wanna seeeeeeeee

admiration.

you were cool until you said it.

goodness

goodness is always attractive. so stop trying to be bad. thanks.

just a thought.

Why don’t you feel alive. For once.

Getting people to do work for you....??!??!!

metal heart

Losing the star without a sky
Losing the reasons why
You're losing the calling that you've been faking
And i'm not kidding

It's damned if you don't and it's damned if you do
Be true 'cause they'll lock you up in a sad sad zoo
Oh hidy hidy hidy what cha tryin to prove
By hidy hidy hiding you're not worth a thing

Sew your fortunes on a string
And hold them up to light
Blue smoke will take
A very violent flight
And you will be changed
And everything
And you will be in a very sad sad zoo.

I once was lost but now i'm found was blind
But now I see you
How selfish of you to believe in the meaning of all the bad dreaming

Metal heart you're not hiding
Metal heart you're not worth a thing

Metal heart you're not hiding
Metal heart you're not worth a thing

last for one

i going to teach hip hop to orphans in india someday:.

taco bell al fresco.

For those of you who love taco bell but still want to ‘eat healthy’ GUESS WHAT. They had a taco bell al fresco menu. You can get any of those chicken tacos, steak tacos, crunchy fresco tacos for under 200 calories…the PERFECT fourth meal. Look at me. and I don’t even like Mexican food.

Now that’s GRILL.

All the reason to love taco bell more.

<3.

b-boys, i'm obsessed. u make me......yeah.

i got a chance to see planet bboy tonight, a documentary film about the culture the stories behind the breakdancers. you literally feel your heart swell when you watch this. passion here is uncontainable.

benson lee, i heart u.

http://www.planetbboy.com/

Jamie Drake

one of my new favorite artists. jamie drake.

i love what she said to me one night:

"i just like doing what i do. i don't have to be famous. it's really for myself. and if people like it, that's cool."

she's such a talented musician. she's playing at santa monica bar and grilled @ 7pm this thursday along with nicole ruby and mehman.

here's a sampler:


http://www.myspace.com/jamieelizabethdrake

Ye Rin Mok

i found this photographer through ffffound, and her photos are absolutely exquisite.

here are a few:

New York

i'm missing the east coast. a lot.

which doesn't make sense because santa monica basically has perfect weather, nice people (sometimes fake and flakey-but nice), the beach, my family ( a huge plus), and a large variety of terrain -- sick of LA? go to the desert, sick of the beach? go downtown, sick of traffic? go to Yosemite...bored? go to Disneyland--

cali has a share of its bads (materialism, shallowness, traffic, blah blah blah) but it's still very good to you. even the trees wave 'hi.'

i guess what i miss most about New York is culture. The museums, the sobering cold, the melancholy days,the art communities, all declare an environment where artists, poets, writers, musicians, actors thrive in.

Either that or i miss living with thirty crazy artists.. Glitter photoshoots, dinosaur parties, park lectures, Thursday art tours...and all that jazz.

These are a few of my favorite things.

Where Light Passes

To oppah.



love,

jc

Go Obama