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[ website | Hidden spots of San Diego ]
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[Links:| ***Hidden Spots of San Diego*** My Art Collective*** My Art Portfolio*** ]

(no subject) [Nov. 6th, 2015|07:53 pm]

Most of my entries are open to the public. Anything that has to do with my personal life or inner-most thoughts though, will probably be locked. Please comment if you would like to be added. Thanks!
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Hai [Feb. 13th, 2014|03:07 pm]
I never write in here anymore and that is a shame, because my life is very full and I have endless thoughts that I should put down. Overall, life is good and beautiful. I have come to the realization that living in the "now" is extremely beneficial to one's health. The past is always going to be behind us. No amount of dwelling or analyzing will change it. The future is molded by our present. No amount of stressing or anxiety will benefit your future, only nurturing the now with self-love will.

Here are a few paintings I have created recently:

There are many more but that will do for now.

I put a lot of my free energy into my Hidden San Diego website. I had been sitting on that dream long before I made it a reality. I have been photographing, blogging and exploring for over a decade now. 3 years ago I created a website based around this hobby of mine. Right now I am getting over 100,000 views a month on it! To inspire is one of my greatest sources of happiness. I acknowledged a long time ago that my purpose in life is to inspire and to help people grow (both emotionally & creatively). I try to live out my purpose daily.

Lately I have been on an even greater health kick than usual. I am creating all of my own beauty products, replacing toxic items with naturally-made ones one by one. Many of us have been health-conscious for years. Slowly, perhaps through sheer paranoia and fear, the world is waking up to the importance of what we put into and on our bodies, what we breathe, how we maintain our lives and our surroundings. I am happy about this. The more conscious individuals we have out there the greater we can preserve our ever-growing earth.

Here are some tiny fragments of my life right now:

San Diego Botanic Garden

Dixon Lake

Lake Hodges

Lake Hodges

I am still with my love. Nearing 2 1/2 years now. Because of him I am constantly inspired. He helps to mentally challenge me, to retire much of my darkness & allow more color inside, not just externally but internally as well. He helps me believe more and more in the power of a soul mate; and that it is not necessarily the fairytale vision many of us have of it. But it runs deep, psyhicly, spiritually; it is alien. I am grateful for every day that I have him.

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(no subject) [Aug. 28th, 2013|09:40 am]
"Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life."

— Bob Marley
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(no subject) [Aug. 27th, 2013|11:28 pm]
“My creative writing professor told me to stop
writing about love. I asked him why and he said,
“Because you have turned it over and over in your hands,
felt every angle, every fault, every inch,
every bruise. You have ruined it for yourself.”
I spent the next 3 weeks writing about science
and space. Stars exploding.
Getting sucked into a black hole.
How much I wished I could sleep inside of that nothingness
without being annihilated. What an exploding star
would taste like. If it would make our stomachs glow
like fireflies, or tingle and shake like pop rocks
under our tongue.

My creative writing professor told me that those poems
weren’t what he was looking for.
He tells me to stop writing about outer space.
Stop writing about science.
Again, I ask him why. Again, he says,
“You have ruined it for yourself.”
I spend the next three weeks writing about my mother,
how we are told we can’t make homes inside
of other human beings, but the foreclosure sign
on my mother’s empty womb tells me that women
who give birth know a different,
more painful truth.

My creative writing professor tells me I am both talented
and hopeless, that everything I write is both visceral and empty,
a walking circus with no animals inside
but a beautiful trapeze artist with a broken hip
selling popcorn in the entrance-way.

He tells me to stop writing about my mother. I don’t ask why.
I pick up my books and my notepad
and I leave his office with my war stories
tucked under my tongue like an exploding star,
like the taste of the last person I ever loved,
like my mother’s baby thermometer, and I do not look back.
We are all writing about our mothers, our lovers,
the empty space that we will never be able to breathe in.
We are all carrying stones in our pockets
and tossing them back and forth in our hands,
trying to explain the heaviness
and we will never stop writing about love,
about black holes, about how quiet it must have been
inside the chaos of my mother’s belly,
inside the chaos of his arms,
inside the chaos of the spaces in every poem
I have ever written.

None of this is ruined.
Do not listen to them when they tell you that it is.”

—Caitlyn Siehl, “My Creative Writing Professor Told Me to Stop Writing About Love”
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June 2012 [May. 30th, 2013|01:04 pm]
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****Collapse )

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(no subject) [Nov. 27th, 2012|10:56 pm]

I recently teamed up with local fashion designers of the brand Rico Knits to be their stylist for their blog section! I will be photographing and creating editorials for their line while exploring hidden spots off of my Hidden San Diego website. My boyfriend photographed me for the first post and I modeled their sweaters. Check out the blog post HERE.

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May 2012 [Nov. 7th, 2012|12:58 am]

6 months behind in posting. No biggie! :P

I started the month off by throwing another show. This one was titled Social Experiment Vol. I

It was in conjunction with the Carlsbad st. fair and we were given a free booth!  Score!  We didn't know until the day of or else we could have prepared better:

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April 2012 [Aug. 31st, 2012|11:23 pm]
I'm getting so much accomplished today. A whole lot of thinking, reading and sitting. Yeah! In April I threw yet another art show. This one was at the Venue Boar Crossn'. It's more performer-friendly which is something I'd been interested in upping for quite some time. I created the flyer, which I suck at making. Whatevs. The title of the show was Kalei/Divisions. Brian and I came up with it. A play on the photo which was taken through a kaleidoscope and I cannot remember why we chose divisions. Ugh. It's been awhile. Photobucket Some photos from the show: My art (sold the Lost Boys one and two of the flower pots.  Yay!): Photobucket Come in!Collapse )
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Never tire of her [Aug. 31st, 2012|09:23 pm]
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Clive Barker, “Days of Magic, Nights of War” [Aug. 31st, 2012|08:20 pm]

I dreamed I spoke in another’s language,
I dreamed I lived in another’s skin,
I dreamed I was my own beloved,
I dreamed I was a tiger’s kin.
I dreamed that Eden lived inside me,
And when I breathed a garden came,
I dreamed I knew all of Creation,
I dreamed I knew the Creator’s name.

I dreamed—and this dream was the finest—
That all I dreamed was real and true,
And we would live in joy forever,
You in me, and me in you.
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(no subject) [Aug. 18th, 2012|05:16 pm]
Home InspirationCollapse )
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From the Grizzly Man Soundtrack [Aug. 10th, 2012|04:58 pm]
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(no subject) [Aug. 10th, 2012|03:32 pm]




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(no subject) [Aug. 10th, 2012|10:29 am]


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March 2012 [Aug. 2nd, 2012|12:23 am]
Musica to start this off. Mhm! This is an album preview of Shabazz Palaces. So good:

An art show I was in. This is my homie Paul doing a live painting that many of us collaborated on. I never took a final shot.

Social timesCollapse )
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February 2012 [Jul. 23rd, 2012|04:36 pm]
I'm so behind on my posts. Here are photos from back in Feb.

I visited the Exotic Fruit Farm in Vista. It's one of my favorite places!

Ice Cream Bean Tree:

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I'm gonna do something crazy.... [Apr. 21st, 2012|06:49 pm]
....and actually make an update. These are from December, haha. A bit behind.


Fotos.....does anyone even go on here still??Collapse )
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LEMON EYES (leminis) aka libra+gemini [Jan. 2nd, 2012|08:06 pm]


I have landed my dream man; my soulmate. It feels as if we have been together for 2,000 years. I don't know how or why I have become so fortunate, but after all the years of internal torture, I do believe that I deserve this.

He is a writer, a poet, an mc, a beatboxer, a brilliant, creative genius. He is an artist like myself but in the written and verbal sense. We are already helping each other grow in ways we could never have imagined on our own. I am so happy I feel like every atom inside of me is going to burst.

I hope to *God* that this lasts forever.......
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Oh my Gawd [Dec. 7th, 2011|11:24 am]
...been in such a dream state lately. I feel like I swallowed cupid. :) Words cannot describe how content I am.
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Life is so strange. Keep it coming. [Nov. 27th, 2011|01:43 pm]
I'd been admiring this guy from afar. Fell in love with his mind within a minute of watching him perform and so I went to another one of his shows. Just by chance, he happens to be friends with one of my friends and they came out to my art show last Tuesday. We bonded the second I shook his hand. Next thing I know him and his buddies are hanging out in my house and I am having the most rewarding conversation with him. It might as well have been just him and I because he was all I could focus on. We've been talking up a storm with each other ever since. He may be the most creative & genius mind I have ever had the pleasure to be aquainted with. I feel blessed just learning about him! I told him I've been waiting for a person like him to enter my life forever now, & that is the honest truth.

I wanted to show a few clips of his work and hopefully will make updates in the future about him if I'm so lucky.

The one beatboxing:

Mind. Blown.
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Another real life post, wow! [Oct. 26th, 2011|02:20 pm]
Here are the photos from the horror art show I did with my collective on October 1st. It was held in a loft in downtown San Diego.


Gif of Lucy sword swallowing:

HiCollapse )
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Eh, why not [Oct. 26th, 2011|01:06 pm]

Offensive material insideCollapse )
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Oh my God [Sep. 18th, 2011|12:57 pm]
Did it really just happen again? My life.
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Uneasy [Aug. 30th, 2011|10:39 pm]
10 seconds away from making all future posts friends-only. Too many anonymous San Diegans reading this. I don't care if I never post and when I do it has no substance and surely no juice. I don't like mingling my real world with this space.
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Hi [Aug. 24th, 2011|12:42 am]
I really can't find the energy to truly update this damn thing anymore. So many amazing (and a few devastating) things have been occuring, and yet the most I can get in here on a good day is a song I'm digging. Oh well.

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(no subject) [Jul. 28th, 2011|08:06 pm]
possibly I like the thrill

of under me you quite so new
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(no subject) [Jul. 25th, 2011|04:25 pm]

"Nothing will be quite as I want it, but sometimes we eat the toast that is burned on one side anyway, don't we?" -Elizabeth Edwards
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Rest in peace girl, I know how tough it had to be for you... [Jul. 25th, 2011|04:13 pm]

You can't deny how beautiful both of these songs are:

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What a wonderful bite & swallow this was tonight [Jul. 11th, 2011|11:51 pm]
[music |the taunting silence]

You should date an illiterate girl.

Date a girl who doesn’t read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away. Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in a film. Remark at its lack of significance. Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love. Fuck her.

Let the anxious contract you’ve unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi and underground music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale or the evenings too long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking. Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn’t fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.

Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn’t, smile all the same.

Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail frequently. Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return or as if you might blow away on the wind. Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn’t read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.

Do those things, god damnit, because nothing sucks worse than a girl who reads. Do it, I say, because a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell. Do it, because a girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent of a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder. A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much. A vocabulary, goddamnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.

Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie. A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.

Date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.

Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so goddamned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life of which I spoke at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being told. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. Or, perhaps, stay and save my life.

Charles Warnke
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(no subject) [May. 14th, 2011|08:54 pm]
Oh how I wish I knew what advice the future me would give the present me....
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