Wednesday, February 29, 2012

"She Makes My Tongue Loose..." - Bloc Party, On, A Weekend in the City


{Image & Art by: Andrea Currie}

Quote of the day: "I know very few people other than myself."

{Image by: Andrea Currie}


{Image by: Andrea Currie}

13 Days After the Dog Bite:

As I reminisce the days since my unfortunate kiss from 'Nakita', I can't help but remember all the steps before, during and after...  Thank you for ALL your support and kind wishes; We are still on the mend, AND I am so grateful!


 HOME from the HOSPITAL:

4 DAYS After:

12 DAYS After:

Smiling! Thank you Dr. Mitchell

.................................. Meanwhile, on the other side of the State..............................

{Images &  Story by:  Andrea Currie}

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

A Transient View: Miami

My Office Away from My Office...

Coloured with another View,
Layered to the 9th level
Cataloguing a day of walking and Soul Searching ~

and doing a little shopping to add a little dress to the assemble;
Lunch is a Graze ~

to Satisfy the Buds of Artistic Reverence ~
Draw... draw... draw....
dot... dot... dot...
Rhythm-ed Cadence in a Synthetic Ink Well.

{Images and Commentary by: Andrea Currie}

Work In Progress: Grapes

Private Sale.  3 Hrs... a few more to to go...

{Andrea Currie}

The Wine Shoppe in Miami, Fl.

PomonaLIFE  is...

{Images by: Andrea Currie}

Monday, February 27, 2012

Easter Bonnet

“How did you know? The only way through my heart is through my head.” – {a.currie}

Kindness in a manufactured community. Tamiami village., St. James City, Fl.
Cpt John and I visited a family member’s property in this pop up community. 
The average age ....? 70 - as they zip along in their golf carts and tricycle cruisers.   Everyone knows everyone – including what they did before they retired;  where the union reps are vacationing from; and what ailments are currently causing their prohibition.  I listen to the conversations and observe mostly.  South Florida is home to as many pockets of northern seasonal explorers as the combination of loud golf-shirt/ pastel invariables combined.  
Cpt John fixes a shutter that was bolted shut; Ms Pauline comes out of the house with a knitted Easter bouquet: “This isn’t for you,” she smiles at Cpt John.
“Here dear,” Ms Pauline hands me the toque. “I need to keep my hands busy.”
{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

It's All Happening:

Times discover another way of being -
To approach a situaion, more or less
just seeing.
Days recovering from a life-time lived,
applying lessons and all their gifts;

Keep surviving and relying
on everyone.
Give some.
Life is Good.
{Written by: Andrea Currie}

{Images by: Andrea Currie}

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Mark Rutkowski

Stone Crab Sunday Brunch:

Garcia's, Miami Fl.

{Image by: Andrea Currie}

Well, aalllriiigh…

Low rider bench cruising
past palms, singing songs
between high tide and low tide
on such a low ride;
poles in the water
bird noses to the ground
collecting and getting
foraging and gorging
until the sun disappears
and the moon reappears;
Just another day
of earth kissing
replenishing and finishing;
Just another lazy day,
of cruising.

{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Home Flown in Miami


Inspired by 'Stiltsville'.... Just another day at the office...



Did you hear me, scream at the top of my lungs?!

"So, I always get nostalgic with that song"... - Big Wreck, That Song, In Loving Memory

{Images by: Andrea Currie}

Alligator Paws and Billboard Silence. Home:

Part Seven: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida.  Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 3: February  15, 2012:
Reddick, Florida, Zip Code 32682. 24 Celsius.  Petro Centre.  The cleanest and funnest truck-stop on our tour thus far.  As we meander with cooling beverages, Cpt John spots it first.  And though I am extremely grossed out, I have to go back to buy one – I have found the perfect souvenir, for a friend who needs Florida Cheer, and a giggle.… stay tuned, and wear this around your neck for good luck ;O)
Tampa, Fl., to Port Charlotte, Fl.  Onward..... silence. The billboards have stopped. We are almost Home. 

Green deciduous delicious dreams
spouting and melting my heart. 
What a start. 
I feel like I have been here before
as I adore
such colour
spiked to both tip and trunk;
calm triangles combing remembrance
from past tropical destinations and meetings. 
I will stay for a while;
or, at least until my next visit.

The End.

{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

Friday, February 24, 2012

Friday's Theme:

St James, Fl., Two Fish Inn

{Image: A. Currie}

Convenience and Waffles:

Part Six: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida.  Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 3: February  15, 2012:

(Where did Red Lobster originate? The advertising signage has steadily increased since Tennessee.)

I have a summarized perspective of I-75 South. 
It is a generalized image of taste.
American’s love: waffles; knowing where the  nearest hotels/motels are located; and whether or not the nearest themed fast food chain is a buffet, better yet, all-you-can-eat 'dining' experience.  I have never seen so many names, varieties and themed Fast Food Chains;  America is the birthplace of the ‘now.  Shopping fast food as a billboard nation.

As “Y’All” mixes with “Yella” and finally “Life’s short, Have Seconds,” I graze in my confined space and feed the cat as he sheds and sweats with us to our final state of home  Newt is draped over his bed at my feet and as his head is as close to the air vent behind the dash board as possible.  It is hot.
{Story by: a. currie}

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Boat Cruisin'

Doctor says I can't get the stitches in the sun... It's a better look; I look 'mysterious'.


Life Lessons:

Love is perishable if it is not found within.

Mum's Favourite Part:

Part Five: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida.  Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 3: February  15, 2012:
As the temperature climbs so does our journey.  We started off two days ago at -7 Celsius, and now at 9:15am in Lake City Georgia it is 17 Celsius.   As we take a break before we cross the state line, we are at Cpt John’s favourite stop: The Yellow Book store where no book is over $3 (USD).  He has his reading list for the year, and sets his timer for 30 min.  I browse between the isles of hard cover piles, and pick out a few for pool side reunions and escapes.  Most notably:  The Great Shark Hunt, Gonzo Papers, Volume 1, by Hunter S. Thompson.

Next stop: Florida State at 10:30am, it is 19 Celsius.

Swannee River, Florida State – birth place to the flora of our stated destination - I rekindle my love with green (as I am refreshed once again).  Trees, ferns, palms; green shoulder seasons in season.  These spiked and dripping leaves drape silver brown furs as Hanging Spanish Moss fill the middle ground of my front and side views.  Today the sky is matted, light grey and our windows fog a similar hue.  It’s muggy. And I like it.

All this while, listening to Dad’s stories of his journey’s and treks with mum all those many times she was his travel companion, and I realize I have never known this layer to their adventures.  It’s real.  It’s new.  I was somewhere else all those other times, travelling my own path and picking my own treasures.   I know you can’t be in two places at once, but I’m glad I can be at least reliving these pieces of my Mother now. 

“Cheers.”  We are at the Florida State Welcome Centre, with our shot size cup of fresh OJ, “Here’s to Mum.”

{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Paving Time Travel

Part Three: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida.  Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 2: February  14, 2012:
Departing Richmond, Kentucky, heading I-75 South.
Watching the temperature climb from 2 Celsius to 10 Celsius, just outside of Atlanta; then to 14 Celsius in Tifton, Georgia.

It begins with the undulating hills of Kentucky which fold into Tennessee… 

I think of paths.  "Sure paths" are driving directions – a map to follow when we need to get from a new destination from an old landmark; possibly what is really pulling our soul.  And if we are not in the driver’s seat, it is a place where we are only a passenger for the moment.
Life paths. Directions. There is no "sure route" but following landmarks of personal interest and laying the foundation with education and life lessons are our development of listening skills – how we listen to ourselves.

For the longest time I felt idle in the middle of a busy intersection.  Before university, during university and post; I was too concerned with my role in society and how I compared myself with others.  Confidence I have discovered over the years is learned, not earned.   My route is this route, and it’s what makes me smile. 


Fill life with love and bliss. Learn from mistakes and listen to your conscience, weigh it with your ego and then follow your heart.
Being part of my mother’s life shows me my path.  As an extension of her life, I am living the in between spaces we shared, but I am growing out of her.  
I have been a daughter, a friend, a student, a teacher, a coach, a traveler, a tourist, a writer, an editor, and an artist; I am a daughter, a friend, a student, a teacher, a coach, a traveler, a tourist, a writer, an editor, and an artist.
Find a meld and create.    
I always wanted to find “a route” – a mentor to see how they got where I wanted to be so I could mimic and be just as satisfied with my current path, and most logical progression.  But the catch, I never knew what I wanted to be.  So my route – the advice received from a senior and mentor was just that, advice; but it wasn’t my map.  And it wasn’t my route because I wasn't living in the moment, I was too busy looking ahead for something/someone that didn't exist.  
Today, I am following the road that is taking me this way.  I am right here, conscious of what it feels like under my feet and I am grateful for the roads that have brought me here.  I drive with directions and I have a map to follow because I have a destination.  Today, I have a GPS and a dog-eared coiled book with highlighted passages and forgotten segweys with pen and pencil smears that are not mine.  This is a well-loved, used path-finder.  Today, I am alive.
Time travels itself into moments of recollection.  Ten years ago if you told me I would be driving to Florida on a sort of personal/business pilgrimage I would have said, of course! Why not!  If you told me why this trip is so important personally, I would have never believed you. 
{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

Imported Art - American Editing on Sapodilla LN, St James City, FL

At least once a day, take a risk.

A lot of writing comes from stolen moments. - Sarah Selecky

The Cat Peed In My Hat; How 'bout That:

Part Four: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida.  Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 3: February  15, 2012:Departing Tifton, Georgia at 8:15am. 14Celsius.
I had dreams about Newt in the SUV last night.  We couldn’t bring him into the hotel because it wasn’t ‘pet friendly’, so he fended with the shadows, hedges and street lamps. (Microtel, $50 a night, two Queen Beds and Free Wifi  ~ sorry Newt!)  Though, I don’t think he slept too much because as soon as he saw us in the morning and had a few things to say. 

As Cpt John and I restack our gear, shuffling mini-coolers and duffle bags; I scan the interior to see if Newt missed his litter on purpose. And then a rhyme comes to mind:

The cat peed in my hat
How ‘bout that
I put it on, it was so far gone
I did not realize
Until the smell materialized
As is stuck to my hair, how unfair;
The cat peed in my hat,
But least he did not shat!
(Titled: Kitty- Cat’s Revenge)
{Story by: Andrea Currie}

Tuesday, February 21, 2012


To take is sometimes to giveHer words taste like soap in an unrinsed glass.  This time taking, is more than she can bare. 
(Consider the things our characters say in order for us to give them some sense of humility, mystery or depth; or perhaps,  reveal their true character.)


Gotta Love Cheap Booze

Part Two: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida. 
Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 1: February  13, 2012:
After a very successful border crossing, we enter Michigan... and we don't stop...

Sometime After Lunch
I assess the car situation...

My legs will need a stretch again sometime soon.

Ohio : A flea market - a very large gathering ground marked by gigantic giraffes which say ‘Trader’s World’ on I- 75 South of Dayton, Ohio.  The pit-stop shops colour the grey day of our way as these tiles of cultural antiquity layer a diverse American landscape.  Highway traffic with auto plates weaving in and out of commercial billboards and labels are something of familiarity; I imagine I recognize these reads from commercials back home, from our own satellite television feeds.

: Reststop/ Gas stop.  “Bobby Bush” – I have named him such, as he looks like a twin brother to George – I watch Bobby fill up his shwanky, sleek black SUV with large shiny rims. I say he looks like a politician but as I look closer he has a pitted faced and a sideways stare.  He is in a suit, looking very polished with a red flamboyant tie.  Cpt John says he’s a lawyer.  We agree he is a man with an objective.

Before we depart for I-75 South, the usual rituals take place: the tire pressure is checked and Cpt John’s portable air pump is used as one of the tires for the boat trailer is losing air.  And then I realize this drive will take us longer than originally planned.

: Richmond, Kentucky at Jameson Inn.
.With Coupon, $67 USD.  Full Wireless, kitchenette-type facilities and most importantly, two queen beds in a decent size suite as so Father and daughter’s personal barriers can exist with comfort and ease.

Evening Libation
Jr prom drink: Cpt John’s, 4% alcohol, Diluted Vodka – that cost $4.29 USD (24oz.)
Sr prom drink: Andrea’s Gnarly Head Cabernet Sauvingnon, 2010 California
for $8.89 (USD).  Last had in Whistler for $18.99 (CND) - This wine is my absolute Favourite!  But today most especially because of the comforts of finding something familiar in regards to quality and price.

Aside : Traveler’s late nite snack of choice: Kings Hawaiian Rolls and honey shaved turkey from the deli.  Basically Gnarly.

{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

Monday, February 20, 2012

Into the catacombs of thought; I can't go outside to play, the sun is too bright.

“Untapped unexplored places are the places we go when we are acting and / or creating.  They are places we all have in us.” -  Jane Fonda, Private Screenings on TCM, Interview with Robert Osborne, 2007.

Strategies Are Best Laid Accessories

Part One: Flashback Road Trip, Three Days to Florida.  Characters:  Narrator (Andrea/Daughter), Captain John (Father), and Newt (the-Siamese/Himalayan- cat)

Day 1: February  13, 2012:
Leaving Guelph, Ontario.  – 7 Celsius. 
In succinct, nomadic, chronological order...sort of:

3:34 am: Alarm goes off.  Shower. Admire the bloodshot eyes because I stayed up too late watching Funny Girl on TCM.

4:30 am: Pile the rest of the bags, Newt and his Rubbermaid container full of cat litter, and then us into the overstuffed SUV pulling a 22.5 foot Aqua sport.  It is so dark I feel like I should be going to bed, not waking up.

5:13 am: Climb onto the 401 Highway and watch the two head lights pull us West toward….
{insert snooze here}

9:00 am: Sit upright in the passenger seat with Newt wrapped in my arms and my toque still pulled over my eyes. I was dreaming about swimming, or something; the cottage was there somewhere, but I wake up and we are driving.  I remember - I forgot to pack my American Money… and my bathing suit.  

9:15 am: Windsor, Ontario - stop at a bank machine before we cross the border. 

9:40am: Border Crossing – the usual trivialities: No, Sir, we do not have any meats or perishables. …And, here are the cat’s documents  Except the attendant is focused on me.

And what do you do for a living Andrea.

I’m an artist.  My company is called PomonaLIFE.
(Strategically, I placed my business card in the clear jacket casing of my passport.)

How did you get the hat? he leans closer, to get a better look.

I’m wearing the 2012 ‘5.11’ Tactical Hat that I got last month when I stumbled across the Shot Show in Vegas.  

I smile.

{Images and Story by: Andrea Currie}

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Be steady, or at least be consistent. Stagnicity Stinks. Then again, conflict can be theraputic as well. Lessons learned leave many scars.

........."Friction is turning to Fire"........... - Morcheeba, Friction, Big Calm


Happy HR/ Cocktail HR/ Apres/ Dinner HR/ Fri Night/ Lunch Time/ Mon Afternoon/ Sun Morning (x )Friends + Enemies + Connectivity + Isolation = A Nip, A Libation, A Bottle for Liquid Courage, Social Commentary, Anxious Habits or Remedies for a Dog Bite:

Liquid Liner

Dress me up,
   dress me down;

Make me smile,
   make me frown;
Take me here,
   drown me there;
Liquid liner,
   never been finer.

{Written by: Andrea Currie}

Men on Women:

"I will call you when I get back....You see, I never have plans, they make me feel too tied down. - Nick, Funny Girl, 1968

Showing Off

He looks through my portfolio, leaning over every page with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.  He hums and haws over every detail. "Fascinating," he says finally.  "You must have a photographic memory."

I consider for a moment. "Sometimes I think I do, but only when it comes to people-memories."


Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Afternoons after - 45 Hrs Ago; Now, Nakita and I stay in seperate rooms.

St James City, Pine Island, Florida.

Day One: It feels like an instant bruise and tastes like iron; warm iron liquid and burnt metal rushing to the surface, bathing me in shock.  I am hot. My face is swelling. 
The worst thing you could possibly do is look in the mirror.
"Andrea, dear, look at me," Jennifer comes to my side, but I can't remember her in the room.
I pull my hands away and cup the blood pooling into my palms.
I hear someone else shout out, "What happened?!"
I'm lead by my elbow, "Here, use this," a white towel is thrust against my mouth and instantly turns red.
"What happened,"   I hear Dad following us into the bathroom.
"Come over here, sit down." I'm guided to the toilet, not before I realize the seat is up and I knock it down with my toe.
"Let me see," Jennifer pulls the towel away.  "Oh dear, let me get some ice."
"Now Andrea, Andrea. Look at me.  Now, you're going to be in shock, its okay..." My father, Capt John, the Boy Scout and "Safety First" philosopher takes charge... 
What just happened? I leaned in, petting the top of her head, "You're so beautiful, beauti --- (chomp).

Day Three, Today: I reinact the scene: I was saying beautiful, that's why she only got the lower lip.  And ten stitches later, my holiday takes on a new romance - one with lots of sleep, little sun and a lower lip that looks like it's suffering from the plague or a severe case of herpes.  Children fear me, adults shift their stance and stare in horror as my senior adults adjust their glaucoma glasses and say, “Oh dear Lord child!”
I missed Day Two in Florida, sleeping off the initial anti-biotic horse pills, Tylenol 3 and Ativan.  Now Day Three, I’m perched underneath a Tiki hut catching up on the world I have missed.

Let’s all pray for minimal scarring shall we. My heart can’t take such a loss.  
{Written by: Andrea Curire}

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Geography Town

And then I say, as I have many times before... by the fountain of love... I say when in Rome, be in love; and if you can’t be in love, be in love right now... gelato! or jewellery! or that leather purse with the braided strap with that sassy magnetic clasp.  Just be in the moment, the moment of love. Be in love with love if you have to, or just be in love with the moment.


I wear my work with stylish elegance. My heart learns to trust and it is my dress in this world.

'January 2011' is the First tree in the Breast Cancer Calendar Series.  Original 15x20cm, Cotton Canal Jute Paper, Fine Tip Black Archival Ink. 

Trees dedicated to this series will be sold in the Fall of 2012 in a Calendar dedicated for Breast Cancer Research.   Please email: for more information.

Keep living and loving, and eventually it will all roll out.  Andrea Currie.

You, fall in love with you...


For all the stems in my life:

"Fresh flowers will last a week if their stems are dipped in salt." – Betty White, Mary Tyler Moore Show

Monday, February 13, 2012

Men on Women:

"This is what men do for the women they pretend to love." - House, House, on FOX Television Network

It happened in the middle of the night.

“Would you like to call the doctor?”
“It’s on the desk.”
“I have nothing to hide.”
“I said, no.” She pauses and reconsiders, but she knows what will happen.  “I know how he died,” she says.
The water crashes against the shoreline outside of the door, making uninviting sounds as the wind knocks against the windows.  He crosses the room and invites her into his arms, “We just don’t know how he lived."
Her face is ashen.

{Written by: Andrea Currie}

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Women on Men:

"He's a stranger. To me when you're a stranger, you should act a little strange." - Funny Girl, 1968

Women on Men:

"Aren't you mad I never called?" he asks.
"I have a short attention span.  You're inability is not my concern," she says.


An Australian

An Australian without an accent
Is a fish without fins.
A palm tree without leaves
Is a fan without a breeze.
Wearing sunnies in the shade,
An Australian without a laugh
Is a mirror without an image
It is just a frame of glass.

{Written by: Andrea Currie}

Women on Men; Men on Women

I like handkerchief’s, he says, one in every colour because they are loyal. 
She reclines in her chair and watches him unfold his loyalty from his breast pocket.
Everytime she extends such silences, he accepts her no-response as a response because he knows she likes what he says; he knows he intrigues her.
Everything he does is tiresome, she thinks.  Except when he pulls things out of his pockets. 
She smirks.

Another Nite at Work. Finished. Time for a Holiday.

The more you try and shake the cat, the more it will bite and scratch. - Cake, Tougher Than It Is, Pressure Chief

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Women on Women; Women on Age:

"How can you look so good?" An Interviewer asks Sophia Loren, 70 years old, to reveal her secrets.

"Posture," says Loren, "and I do not make old people sounds." 

- Taken from Isabel Allende’s “Tales of Passion,”

Story, Legend and History; Value, Honour and Intrigue. We share paths. What we leave behind is our legacy.

The Place Where it Begins:
 Delphi (Greek: Δελφοί) is both an archaeological site and a modern town in Greece on the south-western spur of Mount Parnassus in the valley of Phocis.
In Greek mythology, Delphi was the site of the Delphic oracle, the most important oracle in the classical Greek world, and a major site for the worship of the god Apollo after he slew the Python, a dragon who lived there and protected the navel of the Earth. Python (derived from the verb pythein, "to rot") is claimed by some to be the original name of the site in recognition of the Python that Apollo defeated.

{image by: a.currie}

The Site:

{image by: a.currie}

The Oracle:
Apollo spoke through his oracle: the sibyl or priestess of the oracle at Delphi was known as the Pythia; she had to be an older woman of blameless life chosen from among the peasants of the area. She sat on a tripod seat over an opening in the earth. When Apollo slew Python, its body fell into this fissure, according to legend, and fumes arose from its decomposing body. Intoxicated by the vapors, the sibyl would fall into a trance, allowing Apollo to possess her spirit. In this state she prophesied.

The Legendary Athletes:

{image by: a.currie}

The Legendary Athletes:  The twin kouroi dedicated at Delphi are most often identified as the brothers Kleobis and Biton. Their story is told be Herodotus (Hdt. 1.31), as it was related to Croesos by Solon, who named them as the second most blessed of men. They harnessed themselves to a wagon in place of oxen and pulled their mother 45 stades to the temple of Hera for a festival. Having accomplished this feat, they feasted, went to sleep in the temple and, at the urging of their mother, were granted the highest honor men may receive — death.

The delicious details which make fact fiction.
Story telling is our way of preserving; but the views of the story teller are just as subjective as the reader. 
And oh, what a read!

I think more than you realize

I love stuff that shakes the parts of me I didn't know existed.


Friday, February 10, 2012

Weekend Motto, extend for the rest of the week and then recycle... Back to the Weekend:

"It is never enough to look at anything once, always try a different perspective."  David Baird, A Thousand Paths to Tranquility

WorkInProgress: .... 2012 (4Hrs)

Passion = Authenticity.

"You are going to do it better than something else you don't want to be." - Joe Walsh, Awesomeness Fest 2010, Costa Rica

Women on Men:

For the men in my life, it's not a pocket dial, it's a rocket dial ...


Passion and Authenticity are Symbiotic Truths

Click on Awesomeness Fest 2010 Listen and be Inspired....
Lot's of motivational, Inspirational speakers....
and end with Joe Walsh, "Go Big or Go Home"

Stepping Stones for the World

The energy in the plane bustles.  I watch the attendants filter the remaining bags and passengers as families claim window seats and elbow rests.  New balances among culled allegiances buckle themselves into introductions as weary travellers fortify personal space. 

Travel is waiting in these queues, conduits and cages with people you do not know, but watch intensely.  I am at the back of the plane, with an empty row all to myself and two more behind and beside.  Domestic travel tip: When departing on early morning domestic flights wait to choose your seats upon checking in at the airport; 90% of the time the last 5 rows will be empty which means there is a good chance you will have a row all to yourself. 

Animated minutes pass and produce a sped up time-lapsed scene.  The last thing we are told is to power-down electronics before take-off.

The blond attendant with curly, frizzy hair and dark painted lips casts a shadow like a large Willow Tree.  She sways with her hands on her hips and waits for two young women to settle in their seats.   Camera’s off,  she says politely.

The two young women smile and glance at the attendant’s overwrought stance as they pass the camera back and forth one more time.  They originally spoke in English but now they use Italian to communicate. 

Ladies, the attendant says again, this time her tone is not as polite.  Please! She says firmly.  But she is still ignored. 

Ladiesss, this time she holds the s between her tongue and teeth as if her tongue is forked and curled at the end. She holds the s tightly clamped until the women put the camera down.  The attendant pauses before continuing.  As I have mentioned twice, this time piercing the air with a high pitched c which she holds in her jaw, Camera’s ... OFF.   

The surrounding rows of passengers have stopped to admire the scene as the two young women exchange strained glances and obey like wounded allies.

The attendant, now restrained, straightens her flight jacket lapels and then leans over and moves one of the women’s extravagantly buckled purse to show where the seat belts are located.   

 The plane barters this morning.  I hear someone say the weather is nice in Vancouver. I hear someone else say it is raining.  I know it will be overcast, I have no doubt.   

The plane takes off and everyone is subdued as we hold our breath until we level.   My ears pop.  My stomach growls.  I hear a baby cry somewhere over the wing.  Planes are stepping stones for the world. 

{Written by Andrea Currie}

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Nightmares, dreams and other realities:

What happens when we sleep?

Thematic Beginnings:

CreAtive syNergy - PomonaLIFE

i am definitely the best candidate for such an experiment


Wall of Trees:

My friends, I am adding a 'Wall' to my web page... if I have ever drawn you a tree - on a coaster, napkin, sheet of paper, sheet of toilet paper; for a gift, a laugh, a memory or a holiday; if YOU can BE SO KIND, as to take a photograph of such a piece of art - be it framed, tattered, withered or healthy - and send it to me so I can post such a thing in YOUR honour... 
I am extremely grateful
xo a.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

For Amanda: Late Nite Conversations and True Expectations Make Good Friends Now Friends

but don't do what i do, just what i say? i am a sock turned inside out - trying to wear myself respectively clean.

^^ a.currie ¨¨

The sky plays with just as much light as it does shadow:

"Personally I am not finding such mirrors when it comes to relationships. I enjoy my creativity because it is isolating- at this stage in my life I would rather be successful than married."  She wipes her hands on her pants not seeing the ink. She has ruined another blouse as the cuff soaks in the black like a bruise. She continues on with her sketch admiring the pretend sun as it illuminates the shadows of an almost finished scene.


More real everytime you step out of the present and remember past lives holding present values balancing those times when certain people made you feel a certain way...

...."I love you in the morning when you're still strung-out"....
Bloc Party, Sunday, A Weekend in the City

Something about a knot that runs a finger over my mind and makes me want to grab a pen

(a. currie)


"You have a good memory for bad memories," says a father to his daughter.


Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Out of Context {in context}:

..."you think I'm some kind of a goddess or something?" Tracy says.
(She whirls her words with unwavering strength)
"If you use your wills in evil," he states, calmly and correctly.

- The Philadelphia Story, 1940