I made it to fashion week without a form fitting bodice, without a sponsor, without a pattern. No formal schooling, no measuring tape, no technical training, no logistics no human resources department.
I worked hard, I stayed in every night for years, I wondered what it was all for, I waited and I was disapointed. So many times.
But were there, were going, we were there and we are coming. You are in I am out...they are undecided. It all melds together, in one big colorful conglomeration of experiences.
The smell of warm skin after dark. The listing silence of day...and the bright stark generalizm of the railway. The squares in order, and senseless monotony. Green blue yellow red, morning phone calls from beyond. Yanking me out of sleep to discuss the loss of a shirt and a missed flight to Mexico.
Someones 24th birthday in the backyard, unexplected party appon my return from the north. Young faces, unknown places. The eager attitudes and opionions, the take the world by the hand approach. How I remember my spirit then... how I didnt care. How it was everyday for itself. Everything is possible, tonight.
My adjustable professional grade black felt toy. The sunshine swap meet in santa rosa... all afternoon Im still without groceries but I will live on love this week.
