Tuesday, May 31, 2011

the busy signal

singing in the studio is like faking an orgasm.

it's always perfecter when it's remixed, right?



Monday, May 30, 2011

the roses made me do it

i'm sorry.

i'm sorry to whoever i said "hang on a minute"

or "i'll be there in a second"....

i'm sorry. it's a shitty feeling, right? i (YOU) are worth more than that, worth more than me writing this electronically.

you, my friend, are worth more to me than any letter, that any wisp of imagination i could write a story with. you are my friend, and i appreciate you. even if i never say it.

work. :)


Saturday, May 28, 2011


oh, burn
you silly little flames,
give me
momentary leave
from your seriousness
"but i have
a cigarette"
just gives me time to
understand you, it's
all your smoky
mirrors that convince me
to smile this way, an

you can give me
your number
but it doesn't mean
you have to pick up.

shame on me,
cause i came back for seconds.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

getting away

my apartment sucks.

it's small, dirty, unfinished, and hot. we don't even have a living room... we have a mud room that we forced a couch into so we could have somewhere to sit (uncomfortably) to watch our 5 inch t.v. and yeah, we have a backyard, which is great for the cats... but my landlord's mother comes out through the basement and moves things into her shed at 8 am. and talks loudly to whoever is helping her in spanish. and thinks i'm rude when i ask her for the 73rd time to kindly wait until 10 am seeing that natalie and i work late.

so, yeah. my apartment sucks. i didn't want it originally, the guy i moved here with said it would be a great "fixer-upper", and when i broke up with him a month later seemed to not really care about the "fixing". instead, he and i avoided the apartment like the plague and by the time nat moved in four months later the only thing that had changed was that i had swept and mopped.

so our next big thing is moving. i really like the north bedford neighborhood, even though i'm pretty sure it's almost as expensive as living in the city. and i really like the warehouses/loft space further into bushwick but natalie doesn't want to live in an area that is that dangerous. we could go down to the lorimer/havemeyer area, but then we run into problems like running into my ex, who lives and works over that way. i'm trying not to go to bars around me cause they were all his before i moved here and besides, grand street is like a circuit. all the same people go to all the same bars, and they all wear the same thing and talk about the same cool bands they saw at an underground venue in brooklyn that only they know about because the other venues have become too "hipster".

i will credit natalie with this when i say that sometimes we feel like we are trapped in the cover of a bob dylan cd... and btw, happy birthday, mr. dylan. you conceived williamsburg from your own loins, it seems.

i don't care if our new apt is big, or new. i just want it to be welcoming and sunny. i want it to be in a neighborhood that's quiet and has character that doesn't come from people wanting to be uber cool. i want to move, and i have to wait until october. meh.

so much work to do.


Saturday, May 21, 2011

pushing through

and so she flew.

it was good to finally get all of that stupid floor from under my feet away. to spin into nothingness and let the edges blur. to feel music and limbs wrapped up into a beautiful black silk. weightlessness, rather.

setting out to do something and finally accomplishing it is enlightening. seeing my dancers up on stage for sold out shows, seeing my name on the program under "choreographer", seeing pictures of me doing something i have always wanted to do... i'm progressing. it's happening, and i didn't realize it because i was too heavy inside of my head. but there's proof in the pictures and the people who have helped me get to where i wanted to go.

it's like getting a haircut. at first, the bob is really shocking because you've had long hair for your entire life, and you're used to putting it up into a ponytail or how you should style it for pictures. but then you chop it, and you don't know what to do with it. you don't know how it will react when you blow-dry it, you have no idea what products to use to control it, and what it will look like if you get caught in the rain.

after a little while, though, your hair calms down and you begin to understand it and work with it rather than against it, and it grows into the cut rather nicely. it becomes agreeable and you get to know this new style, and maybe you might go back to long hair but for now, you are enjoying the breeze on the back of your neck.

ballet is my passion. movement is in my blood. but there are so many new levels to explore with the air, and i am more than happy to go on adventures. i have learned much about what i am capable of over the last couple of weeks. and i am proud of myself.

so cliche and awful. but that pride is going to just get stronger with time and experience. conquer the world you say? alright. one silk at a time.


ps: these are the last 2 nights to see this show. i will be choreographing a cabaret in late june, so if you miss $piderman you can catch the dead bunny cabaret next month. :)

Saturday, May 7, 2011

glass houses



is easier

to do




in a world

that is impenetrable.


Thursday, May 5, 2011


i miss you, ocean.
i miss your temperate touch
on my legs, where you
lay your head when
you're sleepy.
i miss you, and
you know i do, it's
why i came back
and why you told me
i miss your embrace
against my back,
eyes closed, nose
filled with your smell-
i only pretended
to nap, i
didn't want to miss
the minutes i had you in
my arms.
i miss your lapping laughs
and your tides washing
over my thighs, and
even though you didn't
say it, i know
you thought my ass
looked great bobbing
in your waves...
i miss you ocean, and
i've known i always have,
and even though i'm
chasing these pavements
i'm still with you, and
i still want to come back
for sunsets and windy


Tuesday, May 3, 2011

take it with a grain of sand

There once was a girl
Who had a curl
In the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she
Was good, but
When she was bad
She was awful.