For art

I want to get sick again.

For art.

wait a minute...........what?

I am rolling around in my own vomit.
Waiting until the last moment of vacation to get work done is no fun. no fun at all.
paintings thrown there, drawings there, wire up my ass, and cardboard in my mouth.

a weird/fun kinda okay story that happened to me yestermorning
my dog scared the poop out of me. my family are not good pet owners at all. our dog is only allowed downstairs and is rarely paid any attention too mostly becuase he is so old now and just sleeps. today though, i was home alone, my mom had just left to go off and do mom things and I hear banging. eek, i didnt like that, but i kept listening, because no one gets up to see the thing that made an unknown noise, they just keep listening for more unknown noises to make sure they arent crazy and lets face it, we love being scared. i heard him crying along with the bangs. dodger (the dog) never cries. i let him up becuase i didnt know what to do it was like a someone all of a sudden growing wings or a blind person seeing, really, this dog does NOTHING so him moving was kind of awesome and strange. he came walking up the stairs when i let him out of his dwelling and started sniffing everywhere frantically, going in my room, in coreys room, then the bathroom and he just sat. ? I looked at him and he looked at me. "why are you sitting in the bathroom" i called him out... he didnt move. then i remembered. when he was a puppy i used to play the "cheese game" I would put him in the bathroom and hide cheese all around the house then i would open the bathroom door and he went nuts and used his nose to find ever last peice. it was a frocking fabulous game. great to watch. the other 5 people in my house dont know about the cheese game. I have a feeling he just sort of woke up downstairs, knew that i was the only one home and had this urge to find cheese. we havent played for a while, like i said, dodger is going out the door. It made me smile. we played the cheese game.


reading over these past few entries i talk a lot of cancer
a few weeks ago I thought I was in trouble again then I had three more ultrasounds and for now are telling me I am okay.
Did you know that you must be cancer free for five years until you can say you are cured?

My good friend's father who I barely knew but my heart empathized for for a long while died from testicular cancer last week. He had stopped chemo a while ago becuase it wasnt going to do anything. He was just sitting there letting little tumors invade his body until they took over and he could no longer function.
It was my first wake I had ever been to. My first dead body I had ever seen. I wanted to hug him.
my mom said after, "he looked dead."
"yes, but he has looked like that for a while, he still looked living to me. I wanted to touch him."
mom, "oh."

I found a new friend named chelsie from derry who is 16 and was diagnosed with bone cancer. I think I will live for the rest of my life making paintings and finding cancer buddies to latch onto.
I'm still not sure who I do it for and I semi hope I grow out of it.

ENOUGH OF THE C***** SHIT GOD DAMNIT . art.

I have admirers ,some of my paintings some of my looks some of my personality(which is very flawed, meh the other two things are okay). I have problems when people admire me. I like it and I absolutely hate it. Sometimes I get creeped out a lot, I will learn to deal with that in time I suppose.
People tell me I am awesome therefor I beleive I am awesome. I am sorry if I come off as being a self loving crazy.

Today I stayed over my nonnis and I think we are not the family we used to be. My immediate family is super duper close and i think that has austracized(sp?) us from the rest of them.

last night I went to a Fighting Naked show (HUMANWINE only differnnnnt) and I drew this deformed looking little world while listening to ambient rock. I needed it.
Dancing to that irish shit was a bucket full of awesome.
I'm glad I was invited... I still dont know about some people. I decided with a friend(one of my very very few) that I jsut don't do splendidly well with people my age. I am good with young kids and I am awesome with adults.
People my own age especially girls are funny around me. that may be becuase i am funny around them though and they are just returning it where it is due.


chalk art this summer is going. to be. the. bomb diggity.
oh and sidewalk sam (an old man artist guy) isn't as bad of a person as I thought and he has money to spend on art and a hugemoungous heart sooooo we like him. I am going to do a circus at children's hostpital with his help hopefully and posotive picket boston to death and maybe set up a burning man type thing(says sidwalk sam who has never been to burning man i dont think) ....this summer I am basically spreading art around the community instead of for myself or in some gallery locked up.

excited for next tuesday dance craziness with maizie while listening to the english beat with maizie at the middle east... yes.
I need to go clean up white paint.

mozart's 250th

woke up at 6, drove to children's hospital for an ultrasound... they found a large cist on my remaining ovary. not thought to be cancer filled, but to be in the sure side i am testing lots of tests. I hate ultrasounds. my bladder sucks.
this little happening has had me more emotional than my already emotional self, on top of it being almost exactly the same time last year that i was told a similar (but far worse) thing...
Emily still doesn't have a bone marrow donor, im trying to help. sitting still hurts.
my dad has an infection. doctors dont know what it is, he has been in mass general all day in the emergency room.

my mum made cake to celebrate Mozart’s day of birth, it was not really enjoyed. we sang and listened to his entire requiem. the requiem strengthened the hurt so that instead of eating the cake i washed it away with tears.

to finish the day i planned to watch Amadeus, i've seen it too many times recently, so i went with immortal beloved. Beethoven is more attractive in that movie than Mozart is in his, that fricken laugh. imortal beloved is much more brutal. Amadeus is more beautiful.

Corey is attempting to win a trip to Vienna to have a week of Mozart-ness.

"we will speak in music."

You selfish fish! do you know hermann hesse?

This is not a story of woe as it might seem if you just read the first few sentences, it is a tale of me being utterly pissed with myself for using sick children to my own benefit...no woe though.
I was given a twenty dollar bill from my grandmother for being "kind."
After visiting the children's hospital, helping a friend named Emily feel less alone around the holidays, I had to pee so i stopped in to see my grandmother’s rest room.
I had to tell her why i was in town in the process of trying to get relief so she felt compelled that because i was helping a sick cancerous friend, i needed money.
What? I took it, it was 20 bucks, wouldn't you? but then i started thinking... was this for me, was i visiting these sick kids for my own benefit?

There are things you the reader, if you are reading (oh you readers you), should know. I was sick with Cancer myself last year, I am fine now, but being sick at a young age i was treated in a children's hospital where i met other sick children that i care VERY VERY much for. God, i can't say enough about them... but im not going to say anything more. Emily in particular was in remission and while she was better we got to know one another more and spent fun times together not sick and all that jazz, she is a great person, an artist as well. She has recently relapsed so that was the reason for her being in the hospital again and my reason for visiting.

Do I visit them for myself though? Human beings do everything for themselves, right? maybe?
I do get something selfish out of visiting sick children.
Hermann Hesse pointed it out.
When I see a friend sick, in bed, with cancer and an IV stuck into them, taking their life, which then gives their life back to them... oh chemotherapy how you confuse me so... I feel two distinct emotions that i get a high from. 1. happiness. I am helping a friend and they are smiling and not alone for the moment and have someone to talk to who knows what they are feeling. I am using knowledge i have to help, access i have to help. 2. sadness. I am visiting a sick friend who may not know the outcome of what they are going through and i know some of the pain they are experiencing because i went through it too, and the memories oh the memories that resurface. i wish i could help these friends these "patients," but there is little i can do besides keep company.
A day that was a good day, a day that i learned something from, I lived in, is a day that I was either incredibly happy or ridiculously depressed. Either being high or low, no in the middle is where one feels they have lived.

" When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my moldering lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the very devil burn in me than this warmth of well-heated room." -Hermann Hesse
Oh, he goes on beautifully on and on and i would write it if i were a typist and cared for the no one that was reading this... but i am not and i don't.

I feel either both these extremes at once when i care for these people or i either get a swoosh of extreme happiness from being with them or i find out some distressing news or they are just too sick to be around and my heart is so smooshed that I feel that sadness that can't really even be put into words, by me at least, who is not a writer.
I do get a high.
I think it is why when i think about my past and the people now who are trying to fight cancer or those friends who have died, that i sit and go deeper into these thoughts and sadness and depression because i feel like i am living more...when i feel soooo much. but am i? i dont know.

I don't mean for this to sound selfish, it is, and we are... so i guess it is meant to sound selfish. i do love these kids and am proud of those who are fighting and have fought and won. i am realizing now that I do not help for only their benefit though, so don't give me money or praise.

okay. i should stop stenching.

oh yeah. i have started playing harmonica again. blues helps keep me down.
Ive been burping and they taste like Chinese food yet I haven’t had any food that was Chinese for over a week…………………….

I'm on the rag

It's one of those days that I'm just so god damn frocking lazy that I don't want to shower. There are blocks of time where i'm just like, what is the point of washing today? oh yeah, becuase i smell like over ripe casey. in the summer this isn't a problem, im so dirty and icky feeling from being outside, but in the now, the this time of year, the winter, im inside 24/7. NO DIRT.

in other news: oh painting...how you should feel more like a release than a fucking jail cell...but you don't right now.....................

At the vice and virtue ministry we’ll learn our etiquette!
i am a-lovin happy bullets lately.

If I were one of the yale students seelected to do Milgrim's experiment, I would have shocked those vacab-less people until they cried too.

ssssssssssss NO!

it's snowing.
This morning maizie and i had a photo shoot at le cage... some strip/porn/lovely shop on a corner in manchester. When i hear "corner store" I always think of my mum, "go down the street and pick me up some cigs from the corner store." It wasn't even a corner store. ha, le cage isn't either. it should be. every store EVER should be a corner store. none of this flat/doors on the side/ each place stacked right next the other shit.
oh yes, to end that rambly, the shoot got canceled. good. i didnt want to do it anyhow. I've never modeled before for an actual something, for unactual somethings, yes, on many occasions. oh yes, it also wasn't a strip/porn photo shoot, it was just a burlesque type thang... 20's or something....doesnt matter. the snow killed it.

just beat it. beaat be at beeeeeat it.

early in the morn Corey and I started revamping La valse d'Amelie. just piano and flute for now.
the blue violin was just ordered and danni is being a lazy ass.

a lifestyle
grey skirt
mumbling
inaudible fruit lies
only lines
turning into intros
into stories
a life
two students and a teacher understand

Five months ago I was dragged off to a walk-a-thon for cancer victims. If you knew me then you would know why I wouldn't want to go. I love good causes, helping people and the works, but there are other factors.
mrs. hanley was there staring around the track, my computer teacher who I haven't seen stare since middle school. Her hair was brown, shoulder length, and frosted. she had eyeliner on her upper eyelid, Marylyn Monroe style. these things have stayed the same for 6 years. she asked what my sitch was, i told, we had the same diagnosis and she overcame hers as well. Next to her was mrs. piper. I can remember her chalk board voice bellowing at me down the hall to slow down, I only knew her back then from that. Her voice was quite and little toned on the walk-a-thon night. She overheard me talking to mrs. hanley. "Congratulations casey. You look wonderful." me thinking she had overcome hers too says-" oh, congratulations to you too." she smiled a frown and looked away.
word came to me yesterday that mrs. piper died from breast cancer.
congratulations...

my wig that's been propped on my shelf like a horse with a broken leg for the past six months just fell while i was typing that ^
shite like that always happens and nothing really fazes me.
ever.
being de-sensitized. why