i do write!

it's just that i haven't posted anything new because i do not want to bombard my blog in concentrated periods of time when really no one will be reading them-- i'd be posting a lot of nothing.

so i'm spacing out my fiction. even so, you, my dear lovely readers, can still read what i have posted in the past here on the writing link of Mess.

to make it easier, here are a few to already go to:


"Window Shopping"
"Rider"
"Carmindy"
"Burns"
"The Great American City"
"After Party"
"Summer"


and much MUCH more. and more will soon follow.

the write spot: Union Square, Café Rulli

 if there's one touristy spot i find a guilty pleasure, it's Union Square off Powell and Market Street in downtown San Francisco. open air, ongoing foot traffic, and the most breathtaking panorama of urban life, Union Square is a pristine spot to find all sorts of inspiration, especially for writing!

it's a marvelous little concrete flatland edged on all corners by beautiful architecture and high-rises; Macy's flanking the the south, Tiffany and Co. opposite North, and the majestic Westin St. Francis just on the western border and its scenic elevators that reach towards the skies and overlook the city. they've always considered San Francisco the "Paris of the West," and Union Square adequately supports this. it's romantic, beautiful, anitque-- it's hard not to feel like you're somewhere in Paris, sitting at a café and taking in all these gorgeous moving sights and sounds. yes, there really is a café, Emporio Rulli right on the eastern corner of the square. the coffee is reasonable and decent, a fresh finer taste to casually sip while i scribble in my notepad and examine the details to find a good story within. though overcast, the air is very warm and stiff. i love it all. i love the feeling of art and carefree admiration everyone is giving off. sitting outside on a day like this cannot be rivaled.

 San Francisco is truly romantic; it may not be the biggest or most international urban spot in America, but it sure is the write spot for me. it's got that laid-back European pace of life and setting that invites its dwellers to act in the same peaceful and beautiful way-- to just laugh and enjoy life, to love it.

wrapping up my story for the semester and a possible win

really proud of this story i'm finishing up, "By Your Side." it's not finished, with about two or three more segments to go, depending on the length and relevancy of those parts. i plan on finishing it all by tomorrow, even though i had hoped to turn it in on time for the USF English Department writing contest by last Friday. i've put so much into this story, and worked so hard on getting the ideas and characters, that i know i have a good thing going on, and in doing so it got to me to figure out the one thing i couldn't understand from the start:


what was this story really about?

  for one, i listen to this to get the ending of the story; The Naked and Famous, "Girls Like You"

it's a love story on the surface, but then from there the layers unfold into youth, college, graduates, California, summer, nostalgia, choices, memories. now i've figure it out. it's a critique on priorities and growing up, i can guess. i shouldn't be telling readers this, no writer really should i guess, so not to sound pompous and pedantic, but how can i write something i don't understand? now i do, and i'm more than thrilled.

it makes sense anyhow, putting together almost everything that's influenced me into creating this tale:

family/500 Days of Summer/ Echo and the Bunnymen/ California/ summer/ old motels/ college/ the ocean/ girls/ guys/ regrets/The Airborne Toxic Event/ sunglasses/In N Out/Arctic Monkeys/road trips/ promises

just a few things. it's got a loose narrative that fluctuates between the past and present and past of the past, showing the rise and fall and uncertainty at the end of the romance between Noah and June, people from different worlds and focusing on different directions.

college does that. after college does that even worse-- when we graduate, it's time to move on and find that spot in life you want to remain in for a good time. and in the process, it destroys possibilities, dreams, and relationships. i guess you'll have to see at the end of the story, but hopefully you will all read "By Your Side" and get what i mean.

look for the story on the side right link tonight :)

the write spot: a hospital in Walnut Creek, CA!

you'd think a hospital was the last place for writing (or in my case today) reading anything leisurely. i proved that wrong; how could you go wrong with the sun shining and clear blue skies, and a graceful simple stretch of concrete lined with young willows and plants? it was too inviting, the garden at the John Muir Center in Walnut Creek, CA. i don't have classes anymore on Fridays, as my professor is now just giving us time to research and work on our final papers for the class-- so no more San Francisco on Fridays for me!

oh well, i manage. the East Bay is just as intriguing, if not as exciting as the big City. don't worry, i'm fine! mommy was just in for some labs as suggested by her doctor, and while she was inside the hospital, i stayed out. sitting under that hot California sun and taking in its warm lovely rays, i was content to get somewhere in The Secret Garden which i have to read now for one of my classes, and appropriately enough within a garden!

nothing like outside to get the good mood rolling, and of all places the inspiration comes to you at the hospital. yes, i've been in this scene and situation before, last year early around January when my grandfather was gravely sick. i remember being in his hospital room, sitting my the window at the John Muir in North Concord, looking out to the distant Hwy 4 and the BART cars passing through in the neighborhoods close by. i wrote something on a napkin that was in that room; not even sure if i still have that with me, or what it was that i wrote. what i mean to say is that writing really does help. it helps with so much, to make happiness or to capture a sadness in order to make it go away (if that makes sense), or just to show through your burst of creativity that happiness you feel on the dot. i was surprised at myself for wanting to write during such a hard time, but i did it, and in fact, wonderful things came of it.

it's still hot out now, though i'll be going out shortly for dinner with my parents. once home again, i'll be sure to finish off my short story "By Your Side"-- i'm so eager to get it up online for you fellow readers/writers to check it out!

as for The Secret Garden...

always a great childhood read!

approve of this remarkable day.

imagination works

i look at things in my house, my room, and i try to imagine cool things with every object i find. it seems weird, but it’s fun and a good exercise. my stuffed animals are dancing on my bed, the watercolors i painted of English gardens start swaying in a breeze, and my star-shaped chimes become shooting stars across my walls.

don’t judge; i’ve been writing more short stories than i have in the longest time.

ANNOUNCING NEW SHORT STORY IN THE WORKS

you can pretty much guess i got the idea from after attending Monday's Kasabian concert at The Fillmore.

i'll gladly be sharing notes make from my mind about this whole new mess right here. it's a simple concept, and it's sure not brand new. find the new Pinterest Board for the story here.

Gale Ridgelee of the band Vernon.

The Fox Theater, Oakland, and around the Bay Area.

Candice and Clarence. their night out on the town

The Octopus
Coral and Bloom

"All Gale really wanted was one good donut. He'd made his mind up about it, hours ago in fact, as the tour bus exited the ramp from -- and into Oakland's downtown."

because Kasabian rocks like no other.

yes. i saw Kasabian, in the flesh, in America.

NO WORDS.

other than that they're brilliant live, and the energy of the crowd is overwhelming, exciting.

concerts are just time well spent, if that's an understatement. especially when you're seeing a band you're passionate about, you get this incredible feeling that it's not just the music or the band (well yeah, the band of course!) but the concert and the universe just within that venue-- you're seeing your ultimate superheroes of the heart and soul (isn't that what music stimulates?) right there, in their awesome and physical being feet away giving you songs that mean everything, make you feel everything run through your body and come alive.

Kasabian was just one of those bands where i see live, and then i'm done. but i'm not. there's just one more band i care to see in person. when i see them, then my list of ultimate bands for me will have come to an end:


Arctic Monkeys
Franz Ferdinand
The Airborne Toxic Event
Kasabian
Green Day

i love concerts, the feeling, the spirit of the audience and the way music moves the place-- but it is a special moment in my life i reserve for only the highest inspirational acts. there wasn't a time where one of those bands above didn't come to mind or aid me in writing, from the BART rides to walking the streets of the City and just jamming, dancing alone to my own accord when no one is around to see such a sight. so i still can't believe last night. i saw them. i saw one of the most epic and popular bands out of Britain and on one of their rarest tours, with every song so spectacular and mind-blowing in its own way. the music of this band is all over-- psychadelic, experimental, progressive, alt, it just sounds good to me. every song.

 it's worth every headache, sore feet, and shot-up hearing. a concert is that moment where you yes, you give a shit and you live life, because life right there is just on stage before your eyes and outside that arena is put off. i move on today, got two papers to write and notes to get my classmates,
but then and there was a story waiting to happen.

and Kasabian fans are nuts. one Vlad the Impaler in the audience and many MANY Irishmen. drunk Irishmen. moshing Irishmen. and then there was us, Grace and I. put into that, good grief. loved every minute. worth the night. every time.