Dining in November & Mining Through the Archives

Nothing like cold weather to make standing over a hot stove enjoyable.

Perscription for a balanced, upbeat person whose environment is filled with cosmic scorpion power punches and bugs for typewriters:
1) Light a fire in a hearth or in a German beer mug.
2) Scry some Sylvia Plath, Lord Byron or Anne Sexton poetry.
3) Eat a food that wiggles and lather it in garlic and butter.
4) Retell your dreams over a martini or write them down in the deep dark of the night.
5) Let the midnight trees and starlight soothe you with mist, recognizing the hard work you do.

This is a self portrait from the netherworld of teen angst.

This is a drawing I drew in 1991 of the kid who sat next to me at the back of my fifth grade class.

And, this is a my teenage feminist response to the Cinderella Complex.

"Infantilism with Angela" Teen Nanny Art that lasted a lot longer than the job. Do not scribble notes for your manifesto/feminist zine, called, Funky Cunts' Guide to the Emotional Universe.

Nor should you read a booked called, Cunt, around children when you are a nanny. The ironic and herstory-based reclamation of the word and the importance of gender equality through radical rejection of gender stereotyping may be lost on your employers. Your explanation of the fact that Cunt was a word for chalice, used in priestess rituals in neolithic times in matrifocal cultures may only further build the perception that you are a creep. And you did attempt to smoke a cigarette around a child in your charge, so perhaps you are a creepy sixteen-year-old punk after all.