if you were anywhere near the lake in the arboretum around 1:30 today, you would have had the extreme pleasure of seeing me and 15 other kids wearing giant sunglasses and funny hats come screaming down the hill into the grass.  i got to make such a fantastic fool of myself, filming the Valkyrie scenes for our movie.  Even better, though, were the looks of combined disgust and bewilderment from all the art students trying to sketch the lake.  (Which, come on...a lake?  You couldn't pick something that isn't just a circle?  Challenges, people, challenges.)

It was strange; I have such a hard time little myself look stupid, but knowing that everyone else looked ridiculous around me made it a little easier.  Apparently, on film I look like a "female John Cleese - in movement, not appearance".  I guess when you're screaming "Heiatahoo!", waving your arms above your head and leaping through the air wearing nothing but a tank top and little booty shorts, you have no choice but to look ridiculous.  I'm OK with that.

I am lacking in creative motivation.  Sleep is imminent.  Tomorrow will be errands that I've been putting off for weeks and weeks, and coffee in Davis, and potential networking, and other beautiful pursuits.  Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll work on a poem - but right now, everything I'm writing down sounds really trite and forced.  Maybe it's because I'm trying to rhyme, because rhyme sounds more "slam"... Not my thing.

standing on the street corner

cross eyed and tongue tied i'm

selling stories of my childhood to

any stranger looking to be inspired

shaking my cup made of blank folded pages

i'm waiting to hear the drop of crumpled spare changes

not copper, but loose words and bent phrases

...

To be continued?