Today 10/15

It's been ages.
I couldn't even imagine today a year ago.
I can't imagine 5 years from now.

Sometimes I feel like I am going to look back on my life and feel as though I wasted it.
Like pouring vodka stale punch down the drain at the end of a long night.

I want to drive away.
I want to drive as far as I fucking can. Away.

Recently, I've had flashbacks of memories that weren't completely painful.

This morning I thought of my mom's sleeping porch. Dark brown batten wood cladding with a high wooden post balustrade and screened in windows. A futon bed, wooden frame, aged quilts, damp feather pillows, and mom. A dust and pollen covered lamp and bedside table. Warm mom. As a small child I would step out onto the cold porch barefooted early morning. Breath hung in the air in white steamy clouds as I would tip toe and crawl into bed. I would place my ice cold feet between her thighs and press my stick frame body against hers.

The absolute safest place in the world. The ages quilts pulled up high around me, blocking out the crisp frost. Dark shadows on the green lawn and the trees still dark in slumber. The sun would slowly rise through the tree line peering gently over at us. I miss that.

Looking back on that memory I think of how dad was inside and how much mom loved to be outside.

That porch was great on rainy days when mom was making pie. Little bear pie. Mixed berries and tapioca beads, white sugar and cinnamon. Mom would use a pre made crust. The leftover crust would be cut into thin rectangle slices and covered with cinnamon and sugar. We would eat the sugar crusts on her porch bed, we would listen to the thunder and peer over to our left at the lightening piercing the dark indigo sky.

Mom loved that porch, loved the sound of the tree frogs and the bugs making summer noise. Fireflies like christmas lights in the yard. Moms bed on that porch.

National Wine Day

I wasn't sure what to title this post, but it is National Wine day today so, fact.

My grammar may be atrocious-- oh well.

I saw this recipe on the internet about mozzarella stuffed, deep fried onion rings. They looked delicious. So after work I bought all of the ingredients. With barely enough money to cover (let's face it I'm broke as a joke).

I took a bottle of red wine that I took from home, out of my car and grabbed the groceries.

Thinking back, I shouldn't have left the bottle of wine in the warm car for as long as I did. I guess it's just out of habit.
Like how during the summer of my Junior year of high school I kept a duffle bag of clothes in my car all the time, and a plastic handle of vodka.

I posted myself up at the counter and began clumsily chopping onions.
I thought of when I took that home-ec class, where we learned home skills and how to properly cut things with knives. My teacher Ms. Kochen would be shaking her head at me if she saw me now. But it's ok, because that was in 8th grade, and I'm far away from 8th grade now.

I use to cut wild onions in the yard with my sister. We would sit on a bath towel with our pairs of scissors, gabbing at the grass in the yard cutting at it. Snip. Snip.
We would have a bucket with water in it, my mother would call it our onion soup. It would sit on the back porch for a couple days, then we would have to dump it.

I continue chopping-
   with a glass of red wine at my side.
I think of my mother and how she use to pour herself one glass of deep red wine at dinner every night, until one day she stopped. I remember how she let me dip my dull dinner knife in it to try it once, and I thought it was disgusting.

My onions lay in a pile of mangled, uneven rings.
    Sarah tried to help me, but was to no avail. It's ok, because I don't know anyone who can actually replicate those food video tutorials.
For only having a 1 minute video to reference off of, I did pretty damn good.

There's freshly cooked bacon on a paper towel next to me, for the jalapeño dip. Sarah and I wanted to try that as well. I am not Betty Crocker by any means.
However, Sarah could be a modern Betty Crocker. She just knows what to do. I admire that.

Bacon reminds me of the mornings spent at home. Before home became known as 'mom's house' or the 'fenton house'. The smell reminds me of coming downstairs to a Saturday morning breakfast with my family. My dad. My mom. My sister. My mom would always sit next to my sister and my dad would sit on my left next to me.
My dad was my PIC

We would always divide up the bacon evenly.
On Easter and Christmas morning, we would always be so polite about it. One or two pieces, eat it sparingly. Grandparents on either side of me.
Nice thoughts. Old thoughts.


Although this summer I am away here in Iowa, I can sit at this janky counter and still feel close to home. Close to my mother. 




Follow up: the dip was bomb.
     We have yet to make the onion rings.

Last Night After Work

Late last night after work I finally made zoodles.

Zucchini noodles, and I thought of Jessica.
I thought of how she was smiling when she told us what they were in class. I thought of her and all the vegetarians I knew. I thought of how much my mother would absolutely love the idea of zoodles. We used a tool called a veggetti.

The zoodles were super good. I took a picture of their long green almost grass like looking strands dangling over the pots edge onto the white plate in front of me. I liked how they hugged around my fork. It could have been some vegetable version of Lady and the Tramp. 

I think I'd like to made zoodles again sometime, maybe even buy myself a veggetti.
Maybe next time I'll be making zoodles with Jessica.

(zoodles, for those who can't visualize) 

Drip

Drip

(please click on the link above for video)

In our drip performance we used an already created futurist score (the name currently escapes me). However, the only instructions to this piece were to drip. It didn't specify what, where or for how long that was up to us. We chose three different elements for different sounds and stood on stools for a greater impact. Overall, I believe that the performance was a good experiment. It was really interesting amping the audio to this video and hear all of the unique individual sounds. If I were to do this performance again I would perhaps have uniform containers to put all of the substances in, and have everyone dress in black. I would also think about having more red solo cups or to have the three of us at varying heights. Maybe solely pouring water? With a score like Drip the possibilities and modifications are endless.

(The aftermath)

Cake

Cake (Live performance)

(please click on the link above for video)

In this performance I sat at a desk with a cake, I flipped the cake over and as soon as I touched the cake Benjamin starts screaming. It required endurance and focus. I gagged a couple of times. I hate chocolate cake, especially the 69 cent kind at Gary's local grocery. In the link below, we re shot each part of the performance individually, it was a very different experience. The cake resembled s**t. I liked the white frosting, I thought slamming down a spoonful atop the mangled mess would be a good concluding action. If I were to do this again I would use a bigger cake. I would also try and swallow the cake and have the performance go on longer. I would also allow myself to vomit if I were to gag again.

Cake (Edited version)

(please click on the lik above for video)

The video edit of this was a very different, as mentioned above. Benjamin was not screaming at me as I was shoving my face with cake. That absence of urgency, stress, tension made a whole new atmosphere. I also strongly believe that the shock of the audience is a key element to the performance, their energy was a huge component. 

Enjoy Cake~

Betty Crocker's Mac n' Cheese

Recipe: Betty Crocker's Mac n' Cheese
(please click on the link above for video)

This performance had not been previously performed, we knew as a group the recipe and ingredients we needed. We were supposed to have stoic facial expression, however, my own discomfort with my actions prevented me from having perfect stoic state. It was a challenging piece, but was very successful. I have never buttered a person before. I liked it when Benjamin repeated the recipe over and over again. If we were to do this score again I would have different attire and perhaps include liquid cheese. It was a mess, it was art. 

 

2:06pm

4/13 2:06pm
(please click on the link above for video)

This performance was not previously rehearsed. We as a group knew what we wanted to do, but did not know how it would actually sound. I had never brushed my teeth for that long before, much less in front of an audience. It initially felt uncomfortable for me to spit on another human being, however, after the first minute those feeling of discomfort began to fade. If I were to do this again, I would try harder to disconnect from the audience and try not to be swayed by the sounds from the audience. It was very hard to not laugh, because spitting toothpaste on someone is simply ridiculous.