Audio Portrait Melinda Goodman

A wonderful interview and conversation with my former creative writing professor and poet/writer Melinda Goodman.

Music: Circles by Passenger

Audio Portrait Nikki

Nikki describes how she fell in love with the art of poetry and reads a poem by her favorite writer, Ken Arkind.

june 1st

tonight I will be melting in a crowd of hipsters in williamsburg but I DON’T CARE
I’ve been dying to see this band since two summers ago when I’d melt in dark basements in the middle of hot summer days drinking and listening to shoe gaze during my first shitty break up.

~

 

loveless: my Spanish genie

I just got to the library to meet for my last class. I ran out of the class previous to this one because I didn’t want Brian following me asking me questions like he always does. It’s so frustrating. I went all the way to the fifth floor just to see a sign on the door telling me to go somewhere else. My lungs hurt. My feet hurt. I shouldn’t have went out last night. I get to the library and Sarah tells me class is gonna start 30 minutes later. Jeez, whatever, I need sleep anyway. I’m tired and hungover. I look around… Where should I nap?… There’s too many people on this earth! Nowhere for me to put my stuff down and take a nap. I’m kind of nauseous so I don’t want to sleep next to someone who looks like they’d smell bad. I choose a spot on a couch next to a clean cut looking guy. I take my hoodie out of my backpack and use it as a pillow. When I wake up I check my phone to see the time. It’s 9:40. Jesus Christ, I slept through my whole class! I run out to see if I can find my class and explain myself. I spot them coming out of the elevator right outside the library. Sarah’s looking at me weird. Actually, they are all looking at me weird. She comes up to me and asks me what’s on my forehead. I have no idea what she is talking about. I am so tired and hungover and in a rush to go home so I run to the bathroom to check myself. From a distance it looks like smeared black ink from a pen maybe. When I look up close though, I can clearly see the numbers 666 imprinted on my forehead. I try to smudge it off and when I realize it’s permanent I leave the bathroom. I just need to get home before I puke or something. What a weird couple of days. I need to get my shit together.

Outside the bathroom there’s a gold coin. I pick it up, I need something to distract me from this messed up day for a moment, but when I pick it up, it turns into a genie. I must be hallucinating or something, but then Julian from class comes up to me and starts telling me it’s real. He tells me only he can communicate with the genie for me and asks me what I want to wish for. I hear the genie speaking to Julian in a spanish accent that sounded just like my mother’s. I hear him say I get one wish. I tell Julian to tell the genie all I really want is my old best friend Riley to come back into my life again. The genie tells Julian he can’t do that and that Riley has moved on. He said Riley is a different person now and it’d be better off if we never spoke again. Before I could even wish for something else or try to reason, the spanish genie disappears. Surprisingly, I don’t even mind. I don’t have the time for any of this. I’m not even quite sure if it is real. I’m too tired, I ask Julian to walk me to the train. When we get down to the subway I realize I lost my wallet. Normally, I would have freaked out, but today was different. All I needed was to be home in bed. I run under the turnstiles and catch the 6 train. Everyone on the subway’s looking at me funny. They’re probably thinking I’m some trendy New York freak- tattooing 666 on my forehead because I think I’m edgy. I just look back at everyone that stares with a really pissed off look. Death stares for everyone everywhere. After getting off the Long Island rail road at the Albertson stop, I begin my walk home. I run into Megan and she compliments my tattoo. She’s probably still messed up from last night or something. Maybe she’s trying to be nice or something. I never really know what Megan’s really thinking. I tell Megan I can’t talk. I had lost my keys over the weekend and needed to rush home because I knew I’d have to wake Danny up to get inside. The first thing Danny does when he takes a look at me is call me an idiot.
“DUDE. It wasn’t me. Someone did this to me!” I scream.

Danny feels kind of bad and backs off. Then, my phone rings. I pick up and it’s a woman’s voice. It’s Joanna. She did it. She’s asking me how I like my new tattoo and stuff. What a psycho bitch. I really make the worst friends sometimes. She tells me she did it because she loves me and I tell her to go fuck herself and hang up the phone. I don’t really have the energy to care about this right now, but as I hop in the shower all I can think about is this tattoo and how much I hate Joanna for doing this to me. It’s probably some strange form of revenge she’d been planning since that fight we had last weekend. I think about how much my life is gonna change, how I’ll probably never find a real job. I certainly will never find a life partner. I feel violated. I get out of the shower and enter my room. My sanctuary. I find comfort in the bizarre paintings and photos of skulls I have hanging up all over my walls. I turn on a my bloody valentine album, loveless, and melt in my bed. I consider crying, but I feel too empty. It feels like life has been chewing me up and has finally spit me out. I’ve been through too much to let this mess with me. It seems like all I can do is tell myself everything is going to be alright and that I will wake up tomorrow and maybe cut myself some bangs. I want to wear my black canvas sneakers with knee high socks and the new free people shirt Megan stole for me last night. I’m going to meet up with Kelly tomorrow and have fun just like we had planned. As my eyes were fluttering to sleep- the genie reappeared in front of me. He looked like a hologram in the dark and he was still speaking in a spanish accent. Why was my genie spanish? None of this made any sense. I barely heard what he was saying because of the sound of my door opening. In walks Joanna. She’s wearing the pink pajama shorts I had last seen her in with the same hello kitty sweatshirt. There’s still glitter all over her from when she threw it in Megan’s kitchen when she was fighting with us. What the hell has she been doing since I last saw her? I tell her if she doesn’t get out of my house I will call the police.
“What are you even doing on Long Island anyway, Joanna?!”

She gently grabs my wrists and says,“Nicky”, in the condescending tone she always speaks in when we fight. She continues speaking in that tone.

“This whole week I’ve been with this genie. I didn’t tattoo you to hurt you, I did it because I love you. I was upset about our fight. You’re my best friend. The genie found me after I left Megan’s that night. He wanted to help me. And now we are helping you.”

“WHY a tattoo? WHY 666? WHY?”
“I know you won’t believe me, but this is going to drastically change your future for the better.”
“Are you saying I am going to find fulfillment from joining some kind of satanic cult or something? I’m sorry. No. I don’t believe you. You are crazy. You are INSANE! Get out of my house!!!”
“Nicky. Without this tattoo you would have NEVER fulfilled your life, or followed your dreams, or fell in love. I saw IT. I saw you, sitting in a cubicle. You were an account manager for a clothing company. It was for some designer you probably hate. And you gave up painting, you gave up collaging, you didn’t even write anymore! You just sat at that desk and went home to a husband you secretly hated. He didn’t inspire you or make you laugh. He wasn’t stimulating enough in conversations. All of your biggest FEARS became your reality… but… this tattoo… it’s gonna change you. It’s gonna be hard at first. You will have to defend yourself and stand up for yourself. You’re going to get a little tougher. Soon, you’ll stop wasting your time going out to bars and parties because of the way people look at you. Whatever though, you barely like any of the people we party with anyway. You’re going to stay home more and drink less. And paint… and collage… and your paintings are going to sell. First, you’ll be giving away paintings to your close friends. Then, word will spread, and people will start offering you money for your work. You will live and make a living doing something you love. You will marry a man who isn’t shallow, who considers your tattoo to be apart of your life story, who wants to pick sea glass with you, look at your paintings, and make you laugh. Nicky, I know we fight a lot, but I love you and I did this because we are both cancers and we want to be free – but you were never gonna leave your shell Nicky! I saw that and I did this because I care.”
My stomach didn’t feel empty anymore. My heart was elated and I started to cry. I went to grab Joanna and she disappeared just like the genie did at Hunter. I look at my spanish genie and thank him, and he tells me that he will see me in my next life time and disappears. Loveless still playing in the background, my body felt warm, and my chest felt like it was floating as I drifted into a deep sleep.

JULY: what I’ve been listening to

Your Fine Petting Duck – Devendra Banhart

If he ever treats you bad
Please remember how much worse I treated you
If he doesn’t try his best
Please remember that I never tried at all
And if he makes you cry a lot
Please remember that with me you never stopped.

 

Happiness – Tashaki Miyaki

 

Dream Brother – Jeff Buckley

I feel afraid and I call your name
I love your voice and you dance insane

I hear your words and I know your pain
Your head in your hands and a kiss on the lips of another
Your eyes to the ground and the world spinning round forever
Asleep in the sand with the ocean washing over

 

Touch (Four Tet Remix) – Shura

 

Jane Birkin “Période bleue”

It is always so

That the rose is tarnished

My memory is sorting

Putting as much blue as gray

If I’m looking for pink memories

There is a notebook that has Beautiful pictures of us in Brittany

and Who pose

And I dig on the beach

I find your image everywhere I hear like a bagpipe

You’re not there

And the leaves are having fun In the wind

Embarking the white papers.

future

My living room is bright when I pull the curtains. There is a soft, fluffy rug under the coffee table next to the bookshelf that is thoughtfully arranged and curated. Some small succulents sit on top of it. The pots are painted with pastel colors

My room is further past the couch. My blinds black out the sun. This place is small and warm.

I’m drawn to the fur throw blanket on my bed. I turn on my fairy lights and light some candles. I lay down and listen to the noise outside. I melt.

I started listening to Theo Von

I saw him on the poker table with Bill Burr and Bert. I thought he was really funny. I went into a youtube hole of watching his videos, and I saw his magic set after Joey Diaz when he was on mushrooms. First of all, it’s crazy he did a set like that. Psychedelics make you so self-aware and uncomfortable, I don’t know how he could perform in front of a bunch of people. I can’t even do that sober. But yeah, there was just something really honest about his train of thought… like there was no filter or front he had to put on to impress people. I really liked that. It may have been the mushrooms though.

I started listening to his podcasts and they’ve made me self reflect a lot. Theo’s a very inquisitive dude and tries to find out why he feels certain things. He’s been sober for a while and he’s trying to better himself. Even though he’s funny as hell he doesn’t always hide behind comedy to explain things. It’s made me realize a lot about me, and the way I am, and the way I sometimes don’t want to be.

I’m no comedian but I do hide behind humor a lot. I never really realized this until a few days ago, but sometimes it feels like I can’t honestly say what I wanna say to people, especially my friends.

Theo was talking about smoking the other day, and he said every time he felt bad about something he reached for a cigarette. I didn’t know what he meant.  Lately I’ve been realizing though whenever I get a craving (or pang?) for a cigarette, it’s always when I feel a dark shade of anxiety hover over my heart. Like, I’ll be thinking about something bad, or a time where someone did something bad to me.

I think it’s important to realize small things like this though. I used to always just think my brain couldn’t be de-wired and I’d always be addicted to this stuff. 

~ ❤

what i’m reading in April

Be My Baby, How I Survived Mascara, Miniskirts, and Madness

a memoir by Ronnie Spector & written by Vince Waldron and Amanda Whittington

eBay $7

“I wanted to be the Marilyn Monroe of Spanish Harlem and I wasn’t gonna settle for anything less.” – Ronnie Spector

I got a hardcover on Ebay for $7. Used, but in good condition. I’ve only spotted two tomato sauce stains so far, and it even came with a short written list of life goals on the back of a receipt from the previous owner.

Hairspray by John Waters is one of my favorite movies, and this book is very reminiscent of the music and racial conflicts of that time period. She describes growing up in Spanish Harlem, dreaming about performing at the Apollo theater, and meeting motown legend Frankie Lymon at the age of 13.

It’s also a really easy book to read, almost like flipping through a magazine, which I love because sometimes I suck at reading books that are challenging or require effort. 😕

So yeah, Ronnie was married to Phil Spector, who was allegedly very abusive and deranged, and I know she is going to disclose certain stories and details about their marriage. I honestly can’t imagine what she went through, but I anticipate this book will get really good.

I will HOPEFULLY circle back with a full review later.

 

~ ❤