New Poem:

when you fall asleep

in my arms,

your face

is better than

a monument.

it is serene

and full of

architecture

the texture is sandpaper

and impish

wrinkles

(barely discernable)

Saturn is in

retrograde

(behind your eyes)

& other wonders

exist

New Lyrics!

New lyrics for a new band! (Leopard Print Peacock)

Lifeboat

I need a lifeboat

to carry me to shore.

I thought you wanted me

but it seems you're off sailing for more.

Promises you gave me

and a fur coat for the cold.

Your wife you made me

but traded me for pieces of gold.

Hearts may be broken

and left behind for dead.

Yours I will recapture

and pierce til the sea turns red.

My ghost will haunt you

the woman you knew so well

will see your blood on the water

then take you down the depths to hell.

Crumbs of Correction

Desert skirt sweeping

humbleness

from the corners

of my mouth

as if

someone

somewhere

were offering a correction.

Enlightened by etiquette,

let's not speak of

flowers

(that metaphor is overused)

let's instead

look at

atoms,

one-celled organisms

and mold

as our metaphors

for love and growth.

But if you hold me

close enough

I am certain

I can hear

the rhythm of the universe,

keeping time

within your chest.

Poem for Kellen

"Too true"

quoth Alice

as she

explained

and

assimilated

Freudian

slips

with

the

Mad

Hatter.

After they had hung all the

silken garments

replete with charcoal Sigmunds

they sighed

and sipped daydreams

steeped in sentimentality.

Grad school, anyone?

Well, well, well, it's been awhile....

Wrote a lot of songs, but the whole song a day thing didn't quite take. Am quite proud that Seahorse vs. Lobster played a concert and we are looking to record a couple of EPs in the next month or so.

So, I started graduate school! It's an MFA in Arts Leadership program at Seattle University. The cohort is amazing--some of the most intelligent and talented people I have ever met. I'm almost done with my first class and am very excited to start taking Fundamentals of the Non-Profit Sector and Persuasive Communication in the fall.

I have a boyfriend, and a cat, and I go to the dog park on a regular basis, and I live in a barn and I go to graduate school...

Who is this new Katie Woodzick? I like her!

Drown with Me

Minnesota, land of 1,000,
2,000 lakes
You better take me to them all
To them all
To them all

There are ponds, lagoons, lakes and rivers
One thing's for sure, water takes me
Breaks me down, down, down
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?

The Mississippi's pretty long
Then again, so's the Nile
You're gonna make me smile
Smile
Smile

There are ponds, lagoons, lakes and rivers
One thing's for sure, water takes me
Breaks me down, down, down
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?

Yellow, Red, Black, Baltic
Beyond the sea
Will you be waiting for me?
For me
For me

There are ponds, lagoons, lakes and rivers
One thing's for sure, water takes me
Breaks me down, down, down
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?
Are you gonna drown with me?
Are you gonna drown?

Recent Lyrics

June 6

Gold Stars and Scrabble Tiles

I don’t know why

I couldn’t say it to your face

I got really nervous

Remembering our embrace

We love each other, right?

Well if that’s the case…

Chorus:

I’ll tell you I love with you

With gold stars and scrabble tiles

If you reach across the ocean

You’ll find our love will stretch for miles

Because if I told you in person

And you wrinkled your brow

I might have put a bag over my head

Like my good friend Charlie Brown

So I sent my package in the mail

And now I’m counting down

Chorus

Luckily, you reciprocated

You said “I love you” too

I have to admit

I would’ve quit

If you didn’t feel the same way I do

Chorus

June 7, 2011

Perception is 9/10ths

It isn’t illegal to kill a praying mantis.

Cashews aren’t sold in the shell because the skin causes blisters.

Geese fly in a v because of aerodynamics.

Chorus:

Perception is 9/10ths of the law

Perfection is our flaw

I’m waiting by the side of the road

If you pick me up, I’ll carry your load.

Pigeons can fly up to 80 miles per hour.

The largest diamond ever found weighed 1.3 pounds.

Storks can be quite heartless parents.

Chorus

Roses have prickles, not thorns.

Ketchup has its roots in 17^th century China.

Cows aren’t the smartest creatures around.

Chorus.

June 8, 2011

Sick of Serendipity

Chorus

Breakfast at Tiffany’s

I’m sick of these serendipities

Holly Golightly shot her lover down

Then went out for a night on the town

A night on the town

Hey, Mickey Rooney

Is it too soon to see

Judy Garland never loved you

Why don’t you go play an old Chinese man

(Oh wait, you did…)

Chorus

Audrey Hepburn

What can I say?

You hit pretty big

Never faded away

Is Julie Andrews still pissed

About missing out on Eliza?

(Probably not, because SHE got the Oscar…)

Chorus

So let’s all go on a Roman Holiday

Maybe Cary Grant got carried away

With Dyon Cannon and LSD

I have to say that sounds good to me…

Sounds pretty good to a girl like me…

Chorus 2X

June 5

All This Almost

Chorus:

All this almost

We were so close

Touch my heart

With your hand

All this almost

We are so close

Soon I’ll understand

Soon I’ll understand

I will laugh with this

Clumsy boy who loves me

Through the darkest struggle

Laughter enters

Wash my hands with

Fresh cascades

From blue roses.

Chorus

This sudden, fresh country

Plucks and bursts

Rise to the unchanging sea

Laughter and laughter and laughter

Echoes into autumn

This twisted moon

Returns me to you.

Chorus

June 3 and 4 lyrics (just a start, more to come for both of these)

June 3

Second Mess

Can you write twinkle little star?

Then twinkle twinkle little star monster?

Now what?

And now a lonely song?

A lonely song?

Yeah.

Chorus:

And why

Do you second guess

Your happiness?

And why

Am I in this mess

With you?

June 4

Future Prom Queens of America

Future prom queens of America

Future prom queens of America

Future prom queens of America

Unite!

Put your ballet in the box

Stuff it in, stuff it in

Put your ballet in the box

Stuff it in, stuff it in

Life’s a popularity contest

And you don’t want to get into congress, no!

You know where the real power is?

Nabbing those prom crowns marked hers and his.

Songwriting 365

So, this is my brilliant and cunning plan--to write a song a day for a year (inspired by "A Daily Creativity Journal 365: Make Something Every Day and Change Your Life!") I will post the lyrics to this blog every day or so :-) Watch for exciting randomness!

June 1st: GunShy:

Let my light refract thru your prism

And I will take you prisoner

They say love is a battlefield

You and I will start a civil war.

Chorus (2x):

You don't need an alibi

You don't have to justify

It's not that you don't satisfy

You're just a little gunshy.

You need to loose and lose your inhibitions

And start focusing on our chemistry

Our elements will start an explosion

This may very well be World War III!

Chorus 2x

And now for the moral of our story:

(my psycho-sensual dark knight)

This is our Hiroshima, honey

Just light my fire and we'll be alright.

Chorus 2x

June 2nd:

Pink Elephants on Parade

There are lions on the run

Seahorses in the sun

Lobsters in the ocean

Giraffes with such devotion

And if you come quick

The image might stick

Of pink elephants on parade

Pink elephants on parade.

When I become more tech savvy, I will endeavor to post the rough garage band tracks as well :-)

barista wonderland

she was pretty

but not enough to be bothered

(most of the time)

she hid behind the espresso machine

imagining the steam

would transport her

to another coffee-soaked landscape,

filled with clouds of foam and wonderment

if Alice had been a barista

(she thinks)

the Mad Hatter would have been even madder

(with all that caffeine)

and the March Hare

would have demanded

a non-stop stream

of

upside

down

cafe

con

panna

and the white rabbit would dance in the whipping cream

Poems Inspired by Mystic Lipstick

I.

He starts to strum
and I do a double-take:
it's as if a young Gary Cooper
has taken a time machine
to us, here, in 2011,
stopping briefly
(in the 70s? 60s?)
to get guitar lessons from Bob Dylan.

I listen and my wrists ache
for no apparent reason.

My eyes burn with a warmth
that feels as if tears
are flowing backwards
heading home
towards tear ducts.

And all at once
the strumming is over.

And I see his worn
Adidas sneakers
exit into the blackness.

II.

there's the piano intro:
she leans into the microphone
(as if to tell it a secret)
she reminds me of
Clara Bow or Mary Pickford
when they grew up, perhaps,
after films had words

maybe they would sneak off
to sing in a cabaret
pregnant with a melody
tumbling out breathless
along with dark curls

December Poems

Poem for Joni:


“We are waiting for a visitor.”

There is a white table
in an alley
with 2 chairs
a single wine glass
(filled with rain)
on top
(She has whispered
secrets of the universe,
infused those H2Os,
that water is
pretty potent--watch out)

The wind takes out his
pocket watch
blows it open/shut/contemplates...

Is it the season
for reasonable things?

Rain and wind wait
for their dinner guest.
The table is set.
And whispers are afoot.

For Tracie:

It must be 5 o'clock.
She dries the last dishes
delicately places them
in their individual slots
on the Value Village
drying rack they call home.

Today is the day,
she thinks,
today is the day
it will all start to make sense.
I will slowly make my way out of the labyrinth
because I can follow
this long ball of yarn that I
have carefully unraveled.

Today I will read Plath,
she is my sister.
But I will travel back
in time and save her
from herself, pull her
head out of the oven
and say ,"These are your children,
they need you.
Please stay."
And she will listen.

Today I won't dot "i's" or
cross "t's"
on purpose.

She pauses.
Brews a pot of tea
in a well-loved teapot.
Pours.
Lets the steam
caress her face.
Peers down into the cup.
Wonders if the leaves will show her a map to the stars.

For Reina:

November skies
make me think of
flying turkeys,
decomposing jack o'lanterns

(make me miss your smile)
the russet-toned leaves
parachute down
crunch like paper beneath my feet

we were young, once,
you know.

and sometimes life wooshes by
terribly fast
and I feel like a crumpled autumn leaf
but I know
that if you found me
in a big pile of oranges, golds and crimsons:

you would pick me out from all the rest
and press me between the pages
of Neruda or Dickinson
and I would live happily ever after
inside those poems.

what does a boom mike do?

So Max and I tried to film the first episode of Getting Woodzy today and it was a rather epic fail--we realized that neither one of us really knew how the camera worked...and although it was fun to drag my bamboo chairs from Good Cheer from my porch into a wooded area near my apartment, it would have been more fun if we were later able to view and edit footage on a computer. Just saying.

Well, I bought a replacement charger on ebay--that was my contribution.

Would really like the opportunity to take some film classes--maybe find out what would be a good first camera for an aspiring filmmaker to purchase. And also find out what a boom mike does. But I'm never NEVER EVER going to get a Mac. I'm a pc and have no idea how to edit a film...hahahaha.

But we do have a rough outline and gumption. Huzzah

It's been a while...

So, it's been a while since I've posted, but I'm going to try to make this more of a daily or every other day kind of practice.

Am super psyched to play oboe in the pit for Oliver. Also English Horn. I played through the score last night and it felt so satisfying to get my fingers wiggling again. I bought a brand-new medium-hard reed from Joe's Island Music and it played beautifully. When I play the oboe, the rest of the world goes away. There's just me and the music. Amazing.

My friend Max and I are planning on doing a parody of Between Two Ferns called On Two Bamboo Chairs. I will interview local community theatre actors. Think it will be pretty sweet!

Am currently working on directing a staged reading of scenes from To Kill a Mockingbird for a Sno-Isle Libraries Foundation Board benefit on October 16. Jimmy Scullin is playing Atticus and Sophia Larsen-Wickman is playing Scout. Fabulous rehearsals so far.

That's all for now!

Concertina

The Baker from Into the Woods
is practicing parallel parking
in front of the rug store
(in a car marked "student driver")
I follow behind Little Read and the Witch
(from the jr. version)
and in we go.
Beautiful beads, tantalizing tapastries
and a few varied intruments--
I pause by a concertina,
but upon looking at the price tag
I breeze on by.
Making the rounds of the store
I find myself pulled back
to the concertina--
the owner tells me to touch it,
try it out.
The leather straps are too big
for my hands but I put
my small mitts through
and it sings. Italian concertina
made in Russia, bought in Uzbekistan--
now named Adolpho,
and she is mine.

Bowling in Jumpers--a poem for Reina

I didn't like the production of As You Like It.
It was mediocre.
The wrestler was played by an overweight
actress sporting spandex and a horrible hick accent.
I think she had alligator makeup on as well.

But after, we went bowling in jumpers.
Reina and I had gone to a Goodwill in La Crosse
and picked out two coduroy beauties
with printed cotton turtlenecks to go underneath.
Our ensembles were both ten dollars or less.

You cannot answer the why of bowling in jumpers.

It is and was spontaniety, glee, originality and
and ache for childhood all wrapped into one
beautiful night in southwestern Wisconsin.

a baby

suspends

her crying

for a

moment

to acknowledge

one of

her purple

socks has

fallen off.

then she

resumes:

a primal

wail

stemming

from a

need to

be held.

and for a moment,

i am useful,

though far from

maternal.

monologue from a piece yet to be written

So, when Ann Druyan was falling in love with Carl Sagan, I mean the Carl Sagan, she went to a laboratory and recorded her brainwaves and heartbeat. And that data was turned into sound. And that sound was part of the data that was put on the Voyager Golden Record by Carl Sagan and shot out into space, that reads "the sounds of earth." Isn't that out there, even for Carl Sagan? To me, falling in love is one of the most unscientific things in human life. You can have "a feeling in your bones" or your gut, a lump in your throat, your heart can melt or be fluttering like a hummingbird outside your ribcage and the culminations of all these sensations is generally thought of as "chemistry" between two people. But what causes it? I mean, what really makes two people fall in love. Or, perhaps more importantly, what makes one person fall in love while the object of their affections wants no part of it? Sounds like an unbalanced formula to me. Anyway, Carl Sagan launches this golden record out into space, and it's intended for aliens or future humans to discover. And possibly try attempt communication with us. There are 55 languages, sounds of earth like elephants, trains, and laughter, music from around the world. And finally, Ann Druyan's brainwaves. The physiology of love. I can just picture the aliens listening to those brainwaves and scratching their heads? "What is this?" they'll say. And then set to work decoding, quantifying one of the greatest mysteries of human existence.

Easter

Easter Bunny didn't come by this year
and it kind of pissed me off.

I wanted to wake up
and go egg-hunting,
gorging myself on the spoils:
Cadbury, Reese's, and Starburst Jellybeans.

Guess you can't count on rabbits.
Some are always running late
for important dates.

Others get in trouble in
the gardens of Scottish men.

And still others escape from
county fairs
and wander the islands
in the Northwest.

Because of the inconsistency of rabbits,
I've resigned myself to the fact
that I may just have go to the store tomorrow,
buy some half-priced candy,
and hide it myself.