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what to own (draft)

Friday, September 29, 2006


Own the look you slip into every morning.

What a strange line. What are we talking about here? The way that we perceive our daily life or how we are perceived?

I like jeans. I think jeans are one of the greatest inventions of all time. Until now, my wardrobe has consisted of jeans and this, jeans and that. The best jeans in my opinion are the slightly loose fitting type, which are mostly out of production due to the saturation of extremely low waist tight fitting jeans sold in the woman's section of every clothing store in North America.

But let's go back to the perception code. Specifically, I want to talk about what we hang in and what hangs on us. Women in most fashion bibles are skinny, shiny, tall and quiet. Is it good mirror imaging? Is it bad? If it's bad, who's fault is it? Is there a fault?

Sometimes I think that most people dive into magazine types because there lies the easy comfort of being pre-defined. It requires almost no effort. What magazines offer is the luxury of choosing your preference (or someone else's) and buying your way in the scenery. But if you just look the part but fail to play it, you may be pre-defined as a poser. So...

Own the look you slip into every morning.

That's what a girl on tv said. If you are wearing sexy clothing, act sexy, feel sexy to be sexy. That's what owning it means. Play the part. If you are successful at looking the part and are convincing others that you are IT, then you have succeeded in controlling a small part of the way they perceive you. Now, isn't that a comfort in a world where you can control so little but the choices you make day in and day out?

Being comfortable with who you are is not what's important here. Rather being comfortable with who other people think you are is rewarding.

There are not many options in life where by a push of a button, you get what you want. Well, there is always the drive-through window...


(See traffic signs below.)

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
5:01 pm

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"The Plot Against the Giant"

Wednesday, September 27, 2006


I recently saw an enlightening interview with singer/songwriter Serge Fiori. I had heard his name mentioned before but didn’t really know who he was.

He began his career as lead singer in a band named Harmonium. The musicians reached stardom in 1977, playing large venues across Canada, the USA and Europe. At this stage, Fiori was beginning to lose the vital exchange between the stage and the audience and between him and his band mates. The audience became a sea of fans, pulling more energy out of him than what he could humanly offer. Groupies would wait for him outside his home. The interviewer added that he would have done anything Fiori would have asked him to. And to that he laughed and replied that that was the problem.

This cult following ultimately cost him his sanity. He could no longer stand on a stage without being overcome with terror. He had no place to go but within his head. The group disbanded and he was left to slowly rebuild his health, as his fans turned against him and his father passed away.

In 1978 he collaborates with Richard Séguin to produce an award-winning record. Fiori remembers how destroyed he was when he went to accept the award, he could not even properly button-up his shirt. But now and then, he still collaborates on various projects.

What took me by surprise is that a song that I heard over and over during my life, a song that is synonym with laughter, was written by Serge Fiori. In 1984, he gives us the Just For Laughs Festival theme song. Truly unexpected, nobody knows how to take it. For me, it proves to be an incredible move.

For this and for keeping to his art from that point on, working on his music for documentaries, exploring his options, I admire him, as a human being. I admire him as a fellow human being.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
10:26 am

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A B C

Monday, September 25, 2006


Find more ways to cooperate here: World War II Posters

posted by Primessa Espiritu
9:47 pm

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La high definition

Friday, September 22, 2006


Le Grand méchant Loup est mort.

Mais son esprit revient en plusieurs formes et sonorités.

posted by Primessa Espiritu
4:04 pm

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I'm glad I went there "Strange to meet you"

Saturday, September 16, 2006



Tonight I realized that I don’t give enough credit to strangers and I don’t give out enough information. To those who wonder about me but ask me no questions, maybe I should just tell you what I assume you want to know.

I enjoy silence


Now I’ll finish this great entry with A random act.

Are you lost?

posted by Primessa Espiritu
2:58 am

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+

Tuesday, September 12, 2006


La curiosité intellectuelle - vouloir comprendre - dérive d'un besoin aussi fondamental que la faim ou la sexualité : l'énergie exploratrice.

[Arthur Koestler]

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
3:24 pm

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مرحبا.

Sunday, September 10, 2006


Hola. Éste es parte de una película. Mira intersting. La película tiene subtítulos.


اريد ان اري هذا الفيلم.

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posted by Primessa Espiritu
7:24 pm

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ouh-la-loum

Friday, September 08, 2006





"Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom,
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb,
By the door of a legended tomb"


source: The Literary Connection

One of Jeff Buckley's most haunting performances isn't a song at all. It's a reading of Ulalume, a beautiful but deeply mysterious poem by 19th century American writer Edgar Allen Poe.

Jeff includes the disputed tenth and final verse, which is often omitted in standard texts of the work. It's unclear whether or not Poe intended this verse to be included in the final version of the poem.

"Of the many striking voices rounded up to sing and read the works of Edgar Allan Poe...none tears at the heart with the marvellous terror of the late Jeff Buckley" Rolling Stone 25 Dec 97

posted by Primessa Espiritu
9:31 pm

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Maps, meetings and myst

Wednesday, September 06, 2006





Curtain time is approaching for this summer season. I see myself having more time to work on my long-term projects. I was thinking about my family and friends theses past weeks and how our lives swing in and out of each others paths.

One of my plans is to write letters. I think it will be a nice change as many of you prefer material correspondence to electronic mail as well. This means my address book will have to be updated again…

Also on my list is travel. I’m planning to go somewhere warm this December with my family, or my women (as Curl would say). There will be much to celebrate and much to dissect. Specifically, this October, I will finally set foot in New York. The only true landmark I want to see, I must see, is central park. The rest is inconsequential.

The new web site is taking more time than I thought to pull together. I realized that there are parts of me spread across a larger spectrum than I had first anticipated. Some even that I had forgotten and will have to exhume.

posted by Primessa Espiritu
1:59 pm



To ride the circle, From the Choirgirl Hotel

Friday, September 01, 2006


easy, begin with the sound of a trumpet
surrender then start your engines
you'll know quite soon what my mistake was
warmth, the middle, the unfeeling of pain or extasy
my oven, your current, we make closets or books
our faces across pictures of our ghosts
for those on horse back or dog sled
you turn at the bend in the road
I am not asking you to believe in me
or in the girl who may be
although I willingly forgot her
the offering is molasses and you say
the temperature is crazy, you can't make this up
I purchased a voice on bad plastic
and now it keeps on skipping
I guess I'm an underwater thing so I
guess I can´t take it personally
no approach to know blood circulation
what makes it
flood
rage behind the cheeks
slow
tames the swell of the eyes
I guess I'm an underwater thing I´m
liquid running
skipping
stop skipping the words that we have figured out
ones that ears open for
there's a sea secret in me
tonite lights go on for the old children
hats fly off and change falls from the sky
it's plain to see it is rising
and i have to go to it, get to it
this business of splitting wires, live wires
current open and closed
but I must be flowing liquid diamonds
calling for my soul
at the corners of the world
the boys are packing it up until the ride is sidewalk
she's waiting for the bell to sound her off her chair
I know she's playing poker with the rest of the stragglers
calling for my soul at the corners of the world
you look like you could use a bear
hug when the clowns have left their cages open
and the pig is flying to new land
for another flower in a vase of glass and new hay
I know she´s playing poker
or one of those pianos that guitarate
play me that song, ocean floor dance
and if your friends don't come back to you
let me turn the page
this is where the crown becomes a shoe
and you know this is madness
my mirror, my sister, my boat
perfume stain on your dreams, you don't have to wait for me to say
keep it between the sheets, the screens, the leaves
dear autumnal river death
a lilac mess in your prom dress
i will let you jump on my waterbed
and you say I guess I'm an underwater thing
easy, the end sounds like a trumpet

Was hypnotized by a strange delight

posted by Primessa Espiritu
11:40 pm

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