and she was

The Son smells his home.

Sun, 14 Apr 2013 19:03:05 -0400

The Son smells his home.

and on another note…

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 18:23:36 -0400

and on another note…

Photo

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 18:23:00 -0400

emma is a badass. http://neufe.tumblr.com

Sun, 07 Apr 2013 17:06:00 -0400

emma is a badass. http://neufe.tumblr.com

le couteau’s first birthday, le trouble signing their...

Fri, 22 Mar 2013 22:06:00 -0400

le couteau’s first birthday, le trouble signing their record deal at our cafe, emma and i find a new place, the sun shines all day…

substantial heart boner for life today.

it’s all doughy outside

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 21:56:37 -0400

it’s all doughy outside

all by emma http://neufe.tumblr.com

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 20:29:12 -0400

all by emma

http://neufe.tumblr.com

neufe: (transient)

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 20:17:12 -0400

neufe:

(transient)

Video

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 00:04:49 -0400

Video

Thu, 21 Feb 2013 22:14:32 -0500

Video

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 20:05:41 -0500

Video

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 23:40:54 -0500

we make eye contact a couple times. he brings me up from the audience. asks if it’s okay. of...

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 00:56:00 -0500

we make eye contact a couple times. he brings me up from the audience. asks if it’s okay. of course it is. says i will stand in for sarah. sarah takes me back, behind the large screen onto which the live film is being projected, back to where her bed is being filmed. asks me sit and make myself comfortable. says i can watch the telly, which is showing the middle scene. she leaves. i watch the telly. trying to look comfortable. can the audience see i’m looking to the side? she comes back. asks if she can sit beside me. asks if she can stroke my hair. yes. the mic comes on. she starts to ask me questions. what do i think about parties? are there more awesome parties to come? of course. what about the future? have the best times passed, or is it yet to come? i’m optimistic, i say. of course they are to come! how can you be so optimistic? well, what else can you be? what else can you do other than have hope for the future? mic off. she tells me we’re going to continue talking, as each character has an audience member to talk to while the conversations are silently projected to the rest of the audience. she tells me she’s going to ask me more questions later. she says it’ll be like she’s asking herself, but wants me to answer honestly. okay. she asks if she can kiss me. yes. really? yes. how old are you? i say 21 because i’m nervous. okay, i’m 51, so to keep this safe, we’re going to make it a film kiss. what’s a film kiss? we’re not going to go fully. okay. you’re probably one of the oldest women i’ve kissed. oops. i probably shouldn’t have said that. she asks if she can ask about kids. i don’t have any, but sure. she says we should watch the middle scene streamed on the telly. a beautiful story from another one of the actors. mic comes on. she asks me how to keep the sparkle from fading. how to live in the moment when there’s so much going on that you don’t know which one to follow without missing anything. about saying “yes” to everything, about how hard it is to do things your way, no matter how late it may seem. i answer all of these honestly. behind the large screen, in our corner walled off from everything else on stage, we are in our own little world. i can barely see the camera from the light. we share an intimate, honest conversation. she says, “going back to saying ‘yes’ to everything… what would you say if i asked to kiss you?”. yes. a couple uncomfortable laughs from the audience. sarah smiles a little shyly. she says, “there’s this beautiful film kiss that goes on for 3 minutes… is that okay?” “3 minutes before we kiss or 3 minutes during the kiss” “3 minutes of kissing”. “okay”. she looks at the camera, “this is sarah, and sarah, in ‘kiss’”. she looks at me. puts her hand to my face. i don’t know how it’s going to start. slowly, she inclines her head. we kiss. soft. kind of awkward at first. she kisses my cheek, forehead, all around my face. then it becomes very real, our kissing. she whispers, “3 min is always longer than you would think it to be”. i think there’s music playing. slow, beautiful kisses. like i was kissing myself, my older self. i was kissing an actress. i was myself. i was kissing a character. i became a character. it ends. she says we’re off camera. she asks if i’m okay. yes. my hands are a bit sweaty. she says, “that was very, very, very brave, what you did”. the other audience members who replaced the actors onstage make their way into the middle scene, the kitchen. they take off their headphones, which fed their directions from the actors. no headphone for me. sarah says i can go into the kitchen. she points to under the table, says there are beers there for each of us, bottle openers, cake, everything. i go into the kitchen, in front of the main camera. we each have a beer. cheers. show ends. to the front, holding her hand. we bow.

she invites a stranger from the audience, and together we share an honest, beautiful moment. my heart is going to explode.

this is why i love theatre. this is it.

my world was shaken upside down tonight by a show in that special way that happens sometimes in the theatre. i feel so incredibly overwhelmed in the best way possible.

it went a little something like this

Video

Mon, 11 Feb 2013 23:18:53 -0500

all distortion all the time

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 09:51:00 -0500

Aren’t you sick of being appraised wholesale?

Aren’t you sick of sailing on listing ships?

Aren’t you weary from playing cellos

with ex-lover’s bones?

I want the butterfly brigade to grant me a year with no

stomach problems.

I want to affix the word un-blame in the dictionary so I can
screw up your spell check and so I can call him without shaking.

I want a piano that will not warp outdoors when the rain
demands slow dancing.

I want to know how to sashay on a Saturday with a mouth full
of sa-tay… with Latter day Saints.

I want to skew the difference between Tai Chi and Chai
tea,

and end up drinking a tall glass of graceful force.

I want to lick my hands after I touch someone that has just
become razzle dazzled.

I want birds to come close enough to hear them speak Aviation
Spanish.

I want your record collection in my throat,

and my thumb in the electric ass of the all night
jukebox.

I want my shoulder blades mounted in the museum of
knives.

I want church in a bar.

I want to pass out and hear you say Amen.

I want a skeleton night light in the closet.

I want your wow in my now so we become NWOW.

I want the light in your attic to shine down to where the
sidewalk ends.

I want free shit to not cost anything.

I want you to feel like a disco ball of fish hooks

so you can hang on my words and I can spin in your small
miracles of light.

I want my kitchen to be a Brazilian dance floor with a pot of
your sweat in the oven

and a fridge stocked with butt lust.

I want new sheets.

I want your silver muscles cut into a quilt.

Let me sleep under your strength.

I want more pony lamps.

I want to sing this into all tail pipes until I’m
exhausted.

I want to smell everything.

I want to remember that the sky is so gorgeously large,

I feel stranded beneath it.

When I gasp,

I only want to gasp for more.

-derrick brown

munch thy way through paper

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 20:27:07 -0500

munch thy way through paper

Photo

Sun, 03 Feb 2013 23:48:21 -0500

when my farts are of a peculiarly awful nature the moby tune “why does my heart feel so...

Sun, 03 Feb 2013 20:06:28 -0500

when my farts are of a peculiarly awful nature the moby tune “why does my heart feel so bad?” starts playing in my head as “why do my farts smell so bad?”

mirror

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 22:19:00 -0500

i am silver and exact. i have no preconceptions.

whatever i see, i swallow immediately.

just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike

i am not cruel, only truthful-

the eye of a little god, four-cornered.

most of the time i meditate on the opposite wall.

it is pink, with speckles. i have looked at it so long

i think it is a part of my heart. but it flickers.

faces and darkness separate us over and over.

now i am a lake. a woman bends over me.

searching my reaches for what she really is.

then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.

i see her back, and reflect it faithfully.

she rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.

i am important to her. she comes and goes.

each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.

in me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman

rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

-sylvia plath

i want your wow in my now so we become NWOW all distortion, all the time - derrick brown

Sun, 27 Jan 2013 22:10:00 -0500

i want your wow in my now so we become NWOW

all distortion, all the time - derrick brown