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raspberry*clown

raspberry*clown a écrit 8 articles de Emily Dickinson's Drawer

CITY OF BALLS

Pour certains, ils ne baissent mais enveloppent dans des configurations de cellules. La « chute de balle » est un spectacle public fabriqués à l’occasion du nouvel an à Times Square. Il est fastueux, générique, sensationnel, laïque, et très fréquentée. Les gens viennent de partout dans le pays et le monde pour l’expérience de regarder cette boule chute LED sur le coup de minuit.

New York est parsemé de courts de billes. Les gens jouent au basket, catch, hand ball, mur balle, quidditch, basé sur le jeu Harry potter. Quidditch manifeste dans la vie réelle comme hipsters sur des vélos avec des bâtons de hockey faisant buts, à peu près ce que vous pourriez appeler vélo hockey.

Boules sont omniprésents, la mine est devenu ovaires, mais la ville est rempli de boules de toute façon. demi boule en boule ou êtres unballed marcher sur la pointe des pieds pour écrire avec des stylos à bille, la ville se déplace dans des boules, des boules de neige de temps laminés en tant pieds avancent, stylos étirent lignes leurs minuscules sphères propagation encre de manifester sens et d’idées.

formes rondes d’impact comment les humains vivent, roues de roulement donner aux gens jambes, chariots véhicules chariots vélos, orbes rassembler matérialisant la force de gravité qui serait invisible si elle ne forme tout ce que nous sommes physiquement. Vous et moi sommes Balls sur une boule, merci Balls pour cela, mais aussi
« Pourquoi les gens disent » pousser des boules »? Boules sont faibles et sensibles. Si vous voulez être dur, pousser un vagin. Ces choses peuvent se faire malmener « .

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For some they never drop but wrap up into configurations of cells. The « ball drop » is a fabricated public spectacle to mark the new year in Times Square. It’s glitzy, generic, sensational, secular, and very crowded. People come from all over the country and world for the experience of watching this LED ball fall at the stroke of midnight.

New York is peppered with ball courts. People play basketball, catch, hand ball, wall ball, and quiddich, based off the Harry potter game. Quiddich manifests in real life as hipsters on bikes with hockey sticks making goals, pretty much what you could call bike hockey.

Balls are ubiquitous, mine became ovaries but the city’s filled with balls anyway. Balled semi balled or unballed beings walk on the balls of our feet to write with ballpoint pens, the city moves in balls, time snowballs rolled on as feet move forward, pens stretch out lines their tiny spheres spreading ink to manifest meaning and ideas.

Round shapes impact how humans live, rolling wheels give people legs, trolleys vehicles carts bikes, orbs pull together materializing the force of gravity that’d be invisible if it didn’t shape all we physically are. You and I are Balls on a Ball, thank Balls for that, but also

“Why do people say « grow some balls »? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.”

 

 

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smells of the bosque

smell

A Rambling Holiday Story!

In his years around the sun this man has done many deeds, my personal connection to him leads from the umbilical cord of my Grandma Francine.

Him and she, she now buried but he is remarried to Elaine. Elaine and Bernard who live in San Bernardino County, Southern California, USA, where the land has slowly melted from misty redwood forests to rolling hills that will become Mexico. Yet before that arbitrarily drawn border bedecked in chain link fence sits the city of Los Angeles.

It really exists and not just in the movies! I’d come to this suburb of LA to celebrate my grandpa’s 80th birthday, alongside all kinds of our relatives and him and Elaine’s friends. I’ve always liked Elaine but never really cared for grandpa and was making the trip out there for the opportunity to see cousins and aunts that are hardly ever in the same place.

Im growing from my angst to become a critical human being yet parts of me hate Bernard for being a creepy old man, a creepy old white Zionist dude, a creepy old republican grandpa. He’s hardly able to gauge what appropriate comments and physical boundaries are toward women of all ages and has been creepy toward me, my cousins and sister since we were young. We talk about it and air our grievences to each other. This part of grandpa is more idiotic than malicious.

During his bday holiday I came to see grandpa as a little more human. I may have hurt his pride by laughing at a picture where he’s riding a horse while dressed up as a cowboy, but I couldn’t help it because the man takes himself so seriously. In the picture he looked like a cross between Woody from Toy Story and George Bush jr. looking stupid riding around Texas on a horse.

Do you ever oscillate between defining what’s good and evil and just giving up on the categories? After this holiday I reconsidered if grandpa Bernard is necessarily  a bad man. A whole manner of different friends showed up to his party and showed love toward him, when I figured his friends would all be creepy old dudes based on stupid comments and the way he acts. Maybe it’s dumb to respect him more for having friends from all age categories and cultures. I think there’s a way of considering people where assholes are still human beings, what ever it « means » to be a human being. Grandpa isn’t even a concept though, as much as sometimes it’s easy to chalk this dude up to being some kind of caricature of the patriarchy, he’s a living breathing old man.

Elaine spoke with me about Brooklyn in the 1960’s. She lived in Crown Heights nearby the Hasidic Jews and would visit the Botanic gardens with her dad to see the roses, and with her friend to sketch plants and landscapes. They’d bring charcoal to the garden and then work on the drawings more when they got home. Elaine loved the cherry blossom trees that are still there and bloom each year as the central attraction to a spring festival. She told me that her family didn’t make much money there, and that she moved away from BK in her 20’s to live in different parts of the states, briefly in Israel and eventually to the Los Angeles area.

Another friend of theirs lived in Bay Ridge, BK, around the same time and witnessed the Verrazano bridge to Staten Island being built!

Grandpa’s bday brought our family together for a couple days in a new, unfamiliar environment. We talked, catching up, eating food and taking pictures in their back yard filled with peach, mandarin orange, avocado, and apricot trees, grape vines, tomatoes, onions, and greek oregano plants. Their garden literally had everything….

The garden reminded me of the garden an old Croatian couple kept in the yard of an apartment me and a few friends sublet in Queens, NY, which is something like the most internationally diverse city ever. There are many Greek and Croatian people living in Astoria, but anyway the couple had a grape trellis, squash, tomatoes and peppers. Though they brought theur culture and food from the Mediterranian region, southern California’s climate may actually be closer to that of the Mediterranean. grapes rock!

Where can I pee in NYC?

Il n’y a pas beaucoup de toilettes publiques dans la ville de New York ainsi quand vous devez aller quelques bonnes options sont les suivantes:

Starbucks. Ils ont à peu près toujours les toilettes publiques, mais il y a souvent de longues lignes.

Bars et cafés. Le personnel pourrait ne pas vouloir vous de l’utiliser sans avoir à acheter quelque chose, mais laissez souvent les gens vont.

Restaurants laisser les gens pipi mais pas aussi souvent que les bars.

Si vous pipi dehors, vous risquez un billet, mais si son isolée Ceci est une très bonne option.

Vous pouvez légalement pipi et caca sur le plancher de la Chase Bank et d’autres grandes banques dans l’état de New York.

 

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There are not a lot of public bathrooms in New York city so when you’ve got to go some good options are:

Starbucks. They pretty much always have public bathrooms but there are often long lines.

Bars and coffee shops. The staff might not want you to use it without buying something but often let people go.

Restaurants let people pee but not as often as bars.

If you pee outside you risk a ticket but if its secluded this is a pretty good option.

You can legally pee and poop on the floor of Chase Bank and other major banks in the state of New York.

Searching for French-ish-ness in the city that never sleeps

french-ish-ness

American culture’s romance with French-ness is hilarious. Our Frenchness is wrapped in Saran Wrap and sold at starbucks with a French sounding title. It doesn’t matter that we don’t know what the french sounding title means, this is ‘merican refinement, elegence, and cultivated taste.

A university-ish area of NYC has a variety of French-ish establishments. Belgian and Italian cuisine are trending way harder than French food right now. I find a fancy frenchfry place called La Frite, two casual storefronts vending crepes, an american chain restaurant called Le Pain Quotidien, and a Louis XIV themed bar/fondue joint called the bourgeois pig. I wander into most of them and take pix. Im not really hungry and don’t feel like buying anything but two dudes at the bourgeois pig offer me some of their fondue when i peeped my head in there, and it was delicious, cheesy and creamy. Their opinion of the interior decoration was that it was « more like a bordello » than authentically french.

A waiter at a French looking but Italian restaurant tells me that Julia Child made French cuisine blow up in the states in the ’70’s, but since then people have gotten much more into New American cuisine. My opinion is just that Guy Fieri made everything go to shit! JK i love sloppy joes 😛

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