art:st:k myst:k profile picture

art:st:k myst:k

Nomadic Mystic Hello

About Me

Deaf. Gay. Art Therapist. Recovering pack rat. Unapologetic gemini. Crazy about cooking, artsy-fartsying, volleyball, intellectual dorks, libraries but not bookstores, soy lattes tickled with honey, real brewed chai and not the mix or awful box crap. Guilty of making up new words, reminding supernovas to go off, and all that jazz. Does my double minority status scare you? Create or get your
very own MySpace Layouts

My Interests

Up for meeting new people in the Bay area, for chats over caffeinated ephemera, for friendship, shameless shopping, art, that kinda stuff. Volleyball, board games, word games, Magic: The Gathering a big plus.

I'd like to meet:

Old souls with young minds. I'm up for making new friends for chat/hangout, not to see my myspace network explode shamelessly. BEFORE you send an Add Friend request, please drop me a friendly message. I like handmade cards without glitter.

Music:

All kinds, PJ Harvey, Coldplay, Radiohead, Madonna, Gorillaz, Indigo Girls, Alanis, RHCP, the list goes on and on.

Movies:

Biiiiiig sucker for foreign, indie flicks. Trying to find someone who's willing to watch the goriest and most psycho-f'd-up horror movies with me. Muahahahaha

Television:

I no longer watch television so that I may pursue my lifelong dream of emancipating disenfranchised chinchillas.

Books:

You, sir, are looking at a ravenous bookworm. Jonathan Carroll's White Apples. Audrey Niffenegger's Time Traveler's Wife. Orson Scott Card, Kage Baker, Isaac Asimov, Diane Ackerman, Octavia Butler, Madeleine L'Engle, Audre Lorde, Gregory Maguire, so much more to read, to share.

Heroes:

Semi-nuked salami, prosciutto di parma, honey glazed ham, roasted hickory turkey breast, mozzarella di buffala tralala, with rosemary olive oil focaccia and citrusy olio di olivetto, with a bit of basil and some homemade chicken liver pate, squeezed lovingly by a panini press.

My Blog

dolcette

you are my rockand i your rolllet me wear your sockand you my sole...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Thu, 19 Apr 2007 10:52:00 PST

thermogenesis - by brian berlinski

as i lie here i think of your warmth,and how i would wear it,like a kimono or a parka,how i would savor your heat likea womb, orthe still of a sacred space,as breathless as i couldi would swear it to ...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Sun, 08 Apr 2007 07:28:00 PST

Wislawa Szymborska - conversation with a stone

I knock at the stone's front door. "It's only me, let me come in. I want to enter your insides, have a look around, breathe my fill of you."   "Go away," says the stone. "I'm shut ti...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Mon, 26 Feb 2007 12:38:00 PST

our births wont sing - old poem

our births wont sing there wont be any more room for song we will have to starve and our spirits will wither our plates wont brim we will have to divide our spoons our children will get the right sid...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Mon, 26 Feb 2007 12:34:00 PST

hold on - pueblo verse

Hold on to what is good,even if it is a handful of earth.And hold on to what you believe,even if it is a tree that stands by itself.Hold on to what you must do,even if it is a long way from here.Hold ...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Wed, 10 Jan 2007 10:52:00 PST

lullaby - this land of dreams

in this land of dreams where the sandman schemes and the lady is fair and light, where the heart is free and the lord can see that the fire is blazing bright and suffice it to say there are angels who...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Mon, 01 Jan 2007 10:17:00 PST

phantasy - another old poem

Oh, what I can see in my dreams,The distant prairie land.I somnambulate a path ornate Beside the cornfield grand. And there's a past where I can be perfect, A little house upon the hill. A bed...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Mon, 01 Jan 2007 10:14:00 PST

aging - old poem by me

Why hide your wrinkles, make them unknown? I fail to see the purpose of plastic surgery. Why sharpen the nose or heighten the cheekbone.   Maybe some hate their faces; they'd rather own...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Mon, 01 Jan 2007 10:11:00 PST

poem for beffalamous

Upon a bird of plated whiteArriving from your fated flightSo glad was I to wait all nightA-dreamin' of your lovely light.You came to us with arms awakeSo that we could relax and takeA moment's breath,...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Mon, 01 Jan 2007 07:26:00 PST

low power - by christopher jon heuer, deaf poet

Those Barry Manilow headphones.I thought audiologist boothswere for English recitation -Learn In Six Easy Steps!Dim the lights, now a voice.Say hotdog."Hotdog."Say cawblog."...uh...craw dog."Say oompl...
Posted by art:st:k myst:k on Sun, 31 Dec 2006 09:59:00 PST