SIERRA WOODCRAFT - wasp
Check this guy out! This may be my favorite marquetry design we’ve done yet. I made four of these guys, and the colors will be all mixed and matched on the final product. The one in this photo is reclaimed maple from the Sierra foothills of California.
I used to think love was two people sucking
on the same straw to see whose thirst was stronger,
but then I whiffed the crushed walnuts of your nape,
traced jackals in the snow-covered tombstones of your teeth.
I used to think love was a non-stop saxophone solo
in the lungs, till I hung with you like a pair of sneakers
from a phone line, and you promised to always smell
the rose in my kerosene. I used to think love was terminal
pelvic ballet, till you let me jog beside while you pedaled
all over hell on the menstrual bicycle, your tongue
ripping through my prairie like a tornado of paper cuts.
I used to think love was an old man smashing a mirror
over his knee, till you helped me carry the barbell
of my spirit back up the stairs after my car pirouetted
in the desert. You are my history book. I used to not believe
in fairy tales till I played the dunce in sheep’s clothing
and felt how perfectly your foot fit in the glass slipper
of my ass. But then duty wrapped its phone cord
around my ankle and yanked me across the continent.
And now there are three thousand miles between the u
and the s in esophagus. And being without you is like standing
at a cement-filled well with a roll of Yugoslavian nickels
and making a wish. Some days I miss you so much
I’d jump off the roof of your office building
just to catch a glimpse of you on the way down. I wish
we could trade left eyeballs, so we could always see
what the others see. But you’re here, I’m there,
and we have only words, a nightly phone call — one chance
to mix feelings into syllables and pour into the receiver,
hope they don’t disassemble in that calculus of wire.
And lately — with this whole war thing — the language machine
supporting it — I feel betrayed by the alphabet, like they’re
injecting strychnine into my vowels, infecting my consonants,
naming attack helicopters after shattered Indian tribes:
Apache, Blackhawk; and West Bank colonizers are settlers,
so Sharon is Davey Crockett, and Arafat: Geronimo,
and it’s the Wild West all over again. And I imagine Picasso
looking in a mirror, decorating his face in war paint,
washing his brushes in venom, and I think of Jenin
in all that rubble, and I feel like a Cyclops with two eyes,
like an anorexic with three mouths, like a scuba diver
in quicksand, like a shark with plastic vampire teeth,
like I’m the executioner’s fingernail trying to reason
with the hand. And I don’t know how to speak love
when the heart is a busted cup filling with spit and paste,
and the only sexual fantasy I have is busting
into the Pentagon with a bazooka-sized pen and blowing
open the minds of generals. And I comfort myself
with the thought that we’ll name our first child Jenin,
and her middle name will be Terezin, and we’ll teach her
how to glow in the dark, and how to swallow firecrackers,
and to never neglect the first straw, because no one
ever talks about the first straw, it’s always the last straw
that gets all the attention, but by then it’s way too late.
Jeffrey McDaniel, “The First Straw” (via hennnypotter)
"I heard what you said. I’m not the silly romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want gemstones or gold. I have those things already. I want…a steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love, and be loved."
Shana Abé (via loveyourchaos)
I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe.
“Chet Faker - No Diggity (Blackstreet Cover)”
The original version of this song is one of my all time favorite songs. I don’t even know why exactly; I just love the sound of it. Every time I hear it I am happier and it makes my hips move in a dancing sort of way. This is the first time I’ve heard this cover and holyfuckingshitballs it is phenomenal.
A dog runs through a parade route after the Popemobile passed in Guanajuato, Mexico, on March 24, 2012. Pope Benedict XVI was on a visit to Mexico at the time. (Yuri Cortez/AFP/Getty Images) Animals in the News - InFocus