November 28, 2003

I just threw myself out of bed. It’s the AM. I am too anxious to sleep and I don’t know why. I did everything to knock myself out short of taking Ambien, which I am tryin to stay the fuck off coz I think it depresses me. I know it does. I did chew up a Melatonin. What would you rather have, a pill that in spellcheck moves to ambient or one that slithers into melanoma? But I get too addicted to the ambient stuff. But fuck my heart is just pounding away. And I ain’t had no chocolate close to bed, Astor hides it around 4pm so I will not do it all night. I even worked out pretty hard earlier. So it’s good I am doin this stead of lying there hating myself, goin over ALL I need to do. Writing to y’all. Man, my stomach burns, maybe I am just hungry. But I don’t think so. I don’t want holidays to have an affect. Why should they? They are just days that are memorialized by folks, so the event gets etched in our brains, so they don’t just slide into the usual unconscious like the rest of the year, unless something remarkable, one way or other, happens. And the setup is for the day to be so lacking with all the buildup, it can only be a letdown. And I am annoyed that I am excited… I am into the turkey and cranberry sauce and just eating a lot - as much as I can. And feeling sick after. And goin for a walk and it smelling like warm houses outside. And having leftovers to take home and go at later when they are even better all congealed. I’ve made a peace with doing some family stuff. I used to just stay here alone. But that didn’t work. Coz I was still haunted. And alone. And when I was on the street, I did the free meal thing at The Hardrock Cafe coz it was too lonely not to… just to inhale the moist savory cooking drifting from open windows, to see folks walking briskly from cars clutching tinfoil tucked pans and feeling so removed from any of it, even while mocking it. “Watch football - over-stuffed like your couch and die of a fat induced heart attack, Indian killer fucks!”
Sarah really dug Thanksgiving. She liked to go to them cowboy bars where they always put out lots of free food. Right after dinner, bars get full of men that need a place away from dirty dishes and just guilt induced floor staring. I remember this bar had buffalo turkey wings. They were these gigantic fried wings surrounding a plastic tub of mayonnaisey blue-cheese dip. Sarah gave me the take ‘em signal while she induced some cowboys to watch her more then the game. But I didn’t have a bag and they didn’t have any at the bar, and I tried wrapping them up in napkins but the grease of them soaked right through and ripped the basket I made with them. And she came over on her way out to a truck, no reason to wait for thanksgiving next year, now’s the chance to stock up. So I stuffed turkey wings in my sleeve, the usual place - it felt like a wet splint. I slept on them and woke up in our car feeling like a mother bird that smothered her babies, all the wet bones smashed alongside me. When I looked at the splatter inside my sleeve it looked like a coloring book I’d colored outside the lines. It tasted better then it did the night before in the bar.
On my European tour, restaurants were always so taken aback by my request for our leftovers. In France I think I caused some waiters to keel over in horror. Speedie and I love to do our late night fridge raid. But even some of what I would take would gross her out. But I love mushy textures and I don’t think of foods as clashing combos never to be done. On the film set, of The Heart, they did the scene where Jeremiah combines all the free stuff out on diner counters with cheerios. I saw it in the dailies, it was perfect and done like a ballet, which is what eating like that is - a dance, a balance of what you can nourish yourself with artfully, and not get caught or sick. But to make it seamless, to chose it. And I still do. What I put maple syrup and ketchup on together makes most other folks not want to eat anywheres near me. It is habit. Or a pinkie proudly hoisted acquired taste. Thor is in that scene. He is at the truck stop diner, where all the kids that live at the truckstop are stashed. He is standing on a booth seat lip-syncing to this song while all the kids are just unsupervised wild. It is brilliant. Speedie is in the film too, she is a waitress asking Milkshake if she wants more coffee - while Milkshake and Jeremiah are in the diner eating. Astor plays a trucker that says some come-on to Milkshake. That was hard for him, to be creepy like that to a 12 year old. I will post pictures soon. I went to the set twice. There are no words really… I think numb pretty much sums it up on one level. I mean, I’ve had to work on editing stories that if I FELT what I was reading would just destroy me, you disassociate. Or me, thass what I do. Or so I am told. Whatever. I think the rock hasn’t even hit the surface yet, so I can’t even start to describe the ripples. Or it just plunged right in with such a deafening kerplunk that I don’t even notice all the droplets.
Well, that’s not true.
I notice. I know… I tend to complain about the shit all over my shoes and fail to mention the cow I’ve been keeping in the living room. I’ve been having this horrible panic. And I don’t want to write about what it is coz it is very specific and I don’t want it to be like that Superman thing, where in hindsight everyone looks back and says, “Oh he played the man of steel, well he tempted fate…” I don’t want anything where my fear, were it to come true could be read as a prediction or temptation of fate or whatever the fuck.
I am just terrified of loss. But I always am. But it just seems like it’s ratcheted up lately… Oh fuck that, I don’t want to…
There is just so much to say. And I’ve been so tired lately. I write a lot in my head, that’s been a problem. I forget that I have not put it down. I do that to folks, think I answered them and I never sent it out. And I’ve wanted interaction with y’all. To say what’s goin on, but it all seems so overwhelming and meaningless and the stuff that moves me I just cant capture outside the constant narration in my head. Not properly.
The film was so… monumental. And it is weird that y’all aint seen it yet. I ain’t either. But what I’ve seen, I really really love. And it’s so powerfully moving. And just that y’all can see what I saw… that’s all most folks wants really. Not to be alone with the pain. Even the joy, I enjoy a comedian much more if I am seeing them with someone else. Just not to be alone in experience coz we are so fuckin ultimately alone.
The cast is fuckin dang hot. The Kenny scene made me just die laughing. The actor, Matt Schulze, (he’s been in The Transporter, The Fast and Furious, Blade) fuckin NAILED it. Kenny. Most the time, I just couldn’t watch the filming. I’d watch some… I was there for the COAL part. Man… And in response to emails I got, yes it really did just work out that Mike Pitt was playing Buddy when I was there. It was pure coincidence. Fuckin really miraculous in a way that it all worked out! He got off the time from his M. Night Shyamalan film he was shooting at the time to film The Heart. It was so fun to see him again. He played me a lot of his music in the trailer and it is really great, his voice is so wonderful. He did some of his own makeup – when Buddy is burnt up. That scene was intense… long, lot of safety prep work. I will post pics. It is hard to stop and take pictures, I always hate it, but treasure them later. Coz I do it with my brain. And it seems that when I take it with a camera I lessen up on the control of recollection coz I have less reasonability somehow, to remember. But I got some. Asia was Sarah. She got it down. And I was staggered how she went from acting such an intensely demanding role to directing, having to watch every fuckin detail, take care of SO much, but she did with pure brilliance and craft. It was thrilling to take in. It was like a reunion with a lotta folks that I know, Mike Potter doing his amazing magic, I mean amazing makeup. And he did Hedwig and the Angry Inch, so he knows Mike Pitt from back when… and just the whole crew were so sweet. I loved raiding the clothes van with Mel (costume designer) and I went thrifting with him, hitting thrift stores round Knoxville. I got a great antique pair of sweatpants but Pitt fleeced em off me somehow. I just loved em and they fit him better then me so… but I was also lonely a lot. The second time I went, coz I went by myself. And everyone is workin, and I did my job already. Not much for me to do cept try not to notice what they are doing.
The kids are amazing, Thor really had a magnificent time with them. He dug bein on set. He played with Dylan & Cole Sprouse (Jeremiah –older) and Willa (who plays Milkshake). They had a great teacher and they did schoolwork, played in the trailer, and ran around the set. We all ate too much candy. The catering was really good, but then there would be no food and just this craft service stuff, lotsa junk and I ate so much candy, everyone does and feels like shit. It was weird to be at a truckstop for so long. Walking back and forth from the trailers to where they were shooting, was this long row of trucks and it was very surreal. I used the crowd of folks, where the lights were - filming my past, so I didn’t forget where I was in the present and wouldn’t just slip back into the past. They got new inventions at them stops from when I last spent time there. The Internet hookups are new and very cool. What else about the film? I am getting tired. I dunno, ask me stuff, and I’ll try to answer.
The wrap party was a trip No one could get in and I don’t doubt if we didn’t have a room there we wouldn’t’ve got in. We got Chloe Sevigny in and Jason Faulkner and his girlfriend Scarlet who we ain’t seen since he played in SF and Thor played pool during most of his set. But as he told Jason, he was only five then. Jerry Harrison (Talking Heads) and his wife came down. Thistle’s been recording with him. We did two songs, which I will post if I can. Fuckin magnificent!!! Thistle went out to dinner with the Talking Heads minus Byrne.
Thistle is goin swell as fuck!!! I LOVE makin music. We went to the studio ASH is recording at and man, their new record sounds exceptionally wonderful! PHAT would be the proper terminology I reckin. And Tim is the nicest guy in the world. He got a taste of the Thistle family circus tho when we raided their sweet recording studio’s kitchen. Took with us some of that bottled water, fruit, tea bags.. Didn’t stick any veggies with blue cheese dip up my sleeve as tempting as it was. But I ate a fuckload of it.
We had a small dinner afore the wrap party, just some film folks, Jerry Harrison, and all. I got to hang with Mike Potter (makeup artist extraordinaire, on The Heart and he did Hedwig and The Angry Inch and always does up Speedie) and Gary Graham (the designer that I most resonate with, like Blade Runner meets Oliver Twist). I love them SO dang much. And Arianne Phillips, (stylist genius!) we ain’t seen her since the Steven Klein shoot. She calmed me right down. It was a family reunion! I sound like a fuckin model. But I ate a lot and I didn’t puke! Well, uh, thass not true, but it wasn’t coza what I ate! Sigh… John Robinson is very kwool, very just sincere and you can tell that ain’t gonna change no matter how famous he gets and that is good to know. He just has heart. Pure heart. He plays Aaron. He’s in Elephant and I wanted him to be in The Heart from when Gus sent me an early edit of Elephant. Fuckin amazing that it worked out. The DP is Eric Edward who did a lot of Van Sant films, so the Van Sant family was very much in the house. Fuckin swell guy too. Ok, back to the party, we drive up, big line to get in. And we get in after fighting with the list folks and go to our room then go brave the party. And I don’t remember much… I just kinda uh blacked out. I met a buncha folks. I got pulled to meet folks. There were folks I wanted to talk to but didn’t get to and folks sayin hello but I couldn’t hear them. I just sat on the floor between the space of the bed and the wall and kinda hid. Marilyn Manson gave me an amazing painting for my birthday. He was really kwool. Speedie really connected to Aime'e Osbourne, she seemed really sweet, I was too out of it by that point. Lost it when I got introduced to Sharon Osbourne. I got to talk to Kim Gordon, her daughter was there with Thurston. The whole thing was overwhelming. Seeing folks you’ve seen their images repeatedly, but seein them in the flesh can feel like it’s just a TV show, but then they know who I am, and it feels like a drug induced interactive game. It’s fun for about 5 minutes. That seems to be my limit. The cameras are blinding. You can’t tell me that flash shit don’t damage your eyes. Nother reason to stay away from it.
I am excited bout music right now. Speedie is goin out to Chicago in early Jan to record with Billy Corgan! Billy will play on it and Jimmy Chamberlain. Fuck, how kwool is that?!!! And recording with Jerry Harrison?! Look up the stuff he produced. He did that Verve Pipe record. That is a great fuckin record.
I am listening to Dashboard Confessional. Fuckin love the new album. Cannot get enough of it. I do love it. That first song makes me cry. I love it. Thor can’t stop listening to Black Sabbath and AC/DC on vinyl - is how he prefers it. Snob.
I am reading a swell as fuck book. You Are Not a Stranger Here by Adam Haslett. Short stories. Just what I look for in a book. Craft…
Movies, just finally saw “Adaptation” and so related to the writing insanity. The muffin reward. But for me it is chocolate. My keyboard is smudged with chocolate stains. I get so panicky when I run low. Thank you so much for all y’all that sent me some. Man… I think the FBI thought I was talkin bout drugs, coz some of the packages were very inspected, I mean the way I wax bout the dark stuff you would think I was talkin in euphemism! But oh I am so serious. Dark, 65% or higher cocoa. Yeah. 70 %’s? yeah babeee!
And I watched Nicolas Nickalby, what a gay film! I mean that literally. Fuckin fun that they play that up! So campy. But ultimately I felt like fuck, I wasted time I shoulda been writing. And I’m doin that… just struggling with depression a lot. It’s boring tho. Bores me, my depression, my issues. I hate the way I get so fuckin paralyzed by it tho. I want to be OVER it all. Just bored of it. It takes so much work to take care of yerself. For some folks it seems to come, natural. Instinctual. I am very jealous of them.
Oh oh oh!!! Doin a book that y’all, man, ! Y’all will dig! It is Harold’s End, illustrated, very Victorian like speakin of.. and the artist…! Her name is Cherry Hood. Just check out her work and you will see we were made to work together. We plan to do other books together. It will be out on Last Gasp. They do the Crumb books. We were made for each other. She is based in Australia. And the fact that we found each other just reinforces to me certain spiritual principals I hold to be true and self-evident uh, when I am not in my crap. When I can step out of my head and connect with that… being in nature helps. But check her out and YOU WILL SEE! Wondrous lady too. Oh it’s gonna be good.
www.cherryhood.com.au/
I am writing a story for her to do. It’s really good, at least what I write in my head and what makes it on the screen ain’t bad neither. It just is hard to concentrate. Too much fuckin chocolate and green tea. But I cannot stop.
I am really into sweet pickles. It would gross y’all out to hear what I am putting it on. Not with chocolate, not yet… hmmm…
And I reckin the point of Thanksgiving is sometimes a big job of pretending. I mean those Pilgrims, you know were scared shitless of those dark feral folks and likewise, them Natives must’ve had the dickens frightened out of them by them corn husk lookin folks. So they had this meal, as we are made to dress up in kindergarten and reenact in the glory of black, white and orange contact paper. Where they put all the fear aside, or at least uh swallowed it. A big table of make believe we are one. And we all know how the story ended; the pure devastation of the Indians… and Thanksgiving is still like for a lot of folks. I’ve heard the stories of the after meal, leftover turkey being flung out the backdoor, the effects of free flowing alcohol - the excruciating scabs ripped off with such a practiced slight of hand, the body almost has to be reminded to bleed. But while we are at that table… nurturing and nourishing can just intermingle in with the auspicious intentions of peace. We can pretend that all the careful assiduousness taken preparing the food extends to our fragile sheath of emotional selves. We can act as if, and return the gratitude. And sometimes acting as if, is enough. It becomes real. For while we can hold on to it. And yeah there is usually slaughter after… but until then, there are bonds that have brought us together, and those can be enough to hold us still in remembrance of what should’ve been, had it not gone so horribly wrong somewhere in the meeting of two diametrically opposed cultures. And that’s what family is often… somehow grows to be.
All that being so for me, I can’t wait for Thanksgiving. I wanna work out first so I am so hungry it hurts. Just like it used to ache, but this time, this time I know it’s got a big fat assurance of a cease and desist tagged on it. And maybe I’ll watch football and if I die. I’ll go a happy camper. On a couch.
Enjoy y’all.
Jt