well...

i only have a strong opinion about the soundtrack and the way the movie is shot.

my eyes and ears were delighted...

borderline tipsy.

oh i am pleased.

this soul of mine is looking good.

at least it did last night.


thanks boy. from pamela shepard on Vimeo.

.......

it had been a while...our time together was refreshing.
i only yelled briefly.
and we found middle ground.
you got what you were looking for...
as did i.
we have the power to make magic.

thank you. and you're welcome.

highlights made possible by their bright lights.

night of january 17th

dad took an abrupt turn to show me the new outer addition on the house.
mom kept questioning how much i liked the renovations.
aunt celeste announced her onset of arthritis and the loss of her hair.
mom smiled and smiled continuously calling us her "negro children"
milan instructed me to meet her in adams morgan
kwesi gave me directions to his home to swing by.
monique got annoyed with my tone.
the perfect parking spot was achieved after 45 minutes
chico left.
i arrived.

chico text the word "chinchila"
milan walked in wearing one
ashland questioned whether or not i was on heroin.
monique and i hugged after my apology.
kwesi bought drinks.

i danced.
we all danced.

came home. ate leftover chili. watched snoop's fatherhood.

.....

evening of january 18th

carm gave me straightforward directions.
monique requested a detour to buy socks.
we pulled into a community that was built yesterday.
carm welcomed us into her massive starter home.
her taste level is high but never too much.
we made a food run.
carmen came to sit on the couch so i could lay on her.
as a trio we watched fantasia barrino's life story.

we went to the airport to retrieve three of my top favorites.
nina. robin. grace.
tasha was at the house waiting for me.
a decent fraction of my family had arrived.
the young grew up a little bit more.

we sat around and played mafia.

............

afternoon of january 19

chico text me to see if i was going
yes.
my sister held carmen tightly upon arrival.
carm squeezed back.
we were late.
a pitstop was made to purchase flowers.
delmar said he wasn't coming because he was out.
milan and ebony glowed as birthday girls should.
hugs and kisses
hugs and kisses
hugs and kisses
oh, surprise, felix was there too.
chico smiled and offered a sweet embrace.
we all ate.
we all talked.
we all laughed.
delmar came.

she said "he is still an important character in your play"
............

early morning of january 20th

seventeen bodies slept in my father's office monday night.
we engaged in the ultimate sleepover, collapsing on
comforters, sleeping bags, and coats. my chunky
knit scarf served as my pillow. i had a miserable
rest, but i still woke up with energy and an awareness.
this feeling set the tone...
my entire day was filled with energy and awareness.

i walked outside into an atmosphere. that cradled
us all in its calm and optimistic spirit.

............

meliha and sasha rock my world.
moreso sasha.

it is a good time to be alive.
it is a necessary time to work.

lets stay woke.

scenario

un.

i get on the train relieved that i only stood on the platform
for under a minute. as i walk through the threshold
of the train doors, i begin scanning the pews,
looking for any gaps. i see one. i sit.
while listening to busta's verse i follow through
with the routine of scanning the faces of my
fellow passengers. no one holds my attention,
so i look down and begin to study my hands.
on my right hand, i have a new scar. the dark blemish
is such a contrast against my brown skin.

"powerful impact BOOM from the cannon"

the song became my soundtrack...and BOOM
was the perfect onomatopoeia for what my eyes
saw next. perfect timing. dude next
to me had on light blue jeans and tims. all over
his pants and boots was blood. lots and lots of
real life blood. some areas were smeared, while other
sections just had drops.

well pam...it may not be blood. it could be paint.
no pam...that aint paint...that's blood.

my eyes traveled up his legs and met his
hands perfectly folded in his lap.
blood. blood. blood.
his hands were dyed red...and dried
blood was caked under his fingernails.
my huge hood interrupted my periphery,
so i only saw brown bloody hands, jeans,
and boots.

oh God.
God....is that blood?

i started looking around to see the faces in my
line of sight. does anyone see this?
is that blood?

"raaaarrrr roooaarrrr like a dungeon dragon"

i slowly pushed back my hood so i could see
who exactly is sitting beside me.
oh...its just a man.
nobody special.
looks just like anyone.
mad non descript.
a plain man...staring at nothing in particular.

okay. be smooth pam. be smooth. don't
be obvious. don't let him know that you know
that he is SUS! let your hood down slowly...
just be cool.

come onnnnn west 4th.
bells chime...doors open...and i hopped up.
i walked to the other end of the car.

damn. that was crazy.
i discreetly lean over to peep back down
the path i'd just walked. does he know,
i know? nah....you were cool.

deux..

cutie walks on the train. warm eyes,
beautiful skin, simple style....cute dude.
i look down before he sees me. canal street.
i lift my eyes, and he is staring at me.
i nod my head and smile.

in that instant...ol boy breaks out in
major choreography. huh? my whole
end of the car non verbally said HUH
in unison. eyes on pam...gettin it.
pop lockin, sliding around poles, playing
a pretend piano....huh?

drunk people are laughing and sober
people are acting like he doesn't exist.
the performance is for pam. eyes locked.

i then close my eyes. and after about 5 seconds
i bust out laughing. i am 60% embarrassed,
30 % surprised, and 10% tickled. i began
to shake my head while staring at my ipod in
my lap.

he is not amused by my reaction and turns
his back to me altogether. with himself as
his muse, he dances facing the door, using
the window as a mirror.

trois...

i am one stop from my destination.
sade has properly calmed me down, and
i am officially apart of the sober folk that
don't see anything.

my eyes are closed...and i feel something
happen. a swarm of people from my left
side all rush over to my right side.
i am now the only person in this section.
i see a man spitting on the train floor.

yuck.

train doors open...the man leaves.
drunk people are laughing and sober
people are looking disgusted. i look down
and i see a puddle of...ugh....oatmealy looking
stuff. ugh. (this is hard to write). but i really
want u to know...that my car was possessed...so
i will tell the whole story.

i then realize that there is one last person
sitting further down to my left. she was kneeling.
sis flings down her bookbag and literally throws
off her coat. (might i add, sis is MAD cute).
dancing man (my ex) practically glides
from the right side, makes "i am so done with you"
eye contact with me along the way, approaches her,
and puts his hand on her shoulder. HUH? she looks up and smiles.

HUH?
HUH?

okay. come onnnn nostrand...my brain is tired.

the train is slowing down.
sis is laughing...and screams..."does anyone have
a napkin?" the train erupts in laugher and she
smiles. dancing man is now holding her jacket...lifts
it up, and shows the chatty crowd all of the oatmeal-like
residue that landed directly on her jacket.

....

i would have quite possibly died. or fought.
definitely one of the two.

nostrand stop arrives.
i exit the train doors. turn off my ipod.
glance back at the window, and a man begins
to bang the glass to get my attention.
harder. harder. harder. i glance up, and he
is biting his lip and squinting his eyes.

hmmmm.

oh, nothing major. just mta by way of hell.

i wish to be his intern

***listen to the story rather than reading it.
the sound of his voice is so...believable.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=99172304

this is the epitome of a connector. but bigger than that...a lover.

a big time lover.

.....

i wouldn't ask for compensation.

well...just for some food at supper.

***swoons***

my ladybugs and i shall be together (God's willing) at MY home.
in maryland.
so perfect this is.

................

dmv...i am SO PROUD.

it's about staying fresh...

and self aware.

1. why am i here?

2. why am i doing what i am doing?

3. and to what end?

........

1. to pause, catch, and present the pretty things.

2. this is hard. i have typed. erased. typed. erased.

3. i do not know. wow.

.........

1. to pause, catch, and present imagery that makes one imagine.

2. to inspire thoughts + stories.

3, to get people thinking. to get me thinking.
...........

1. to document a moment.

2. to help the family to remember.

3. to feel better.

...........

an old man told me these words about 4 years ago.

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

they hit me hard then. and i toss them around often.

the goal: consistent application.

.........
last week he said "you have great eyeballs. you know what looks good"

its time to turn my attention to what simply is good.
..........
its coming.
its coming.
patience + persistence.
its coming.

soooo....you're just gonna play me?

*hey pamela, did you get my email?

hold on elinor, i have a bunch of bags. hold on.
pause.
nope...no email.

*oh well i emailed you about tomorrow's shoot. i was just told the model can't make it. spoke to
the magazine...we're going to have to shoot thursday. does that work for you?

no. unfortunately it doesn't. we had been working around this date for the past 3 weeks.
i wish i could. but i have obligations thursday.

*oh no.no. oh, no. we really need you. is there any way you can make it?

i really can't. i am so sorry this has panned out this way.

---pause.

---pause.

---an all out lengthy pause.

well elinor, let me run. i need to get these clothes back to showrooms. i was in the middle of
picking up clothes.

*NO! don't take the clothes back. no, keep them.

pause.

but i can't contribute to the shoot. so, since i can't be apart of it, i have to get these clothes back.

*i know. but maybe you can drop them off for the shoot. just drop them off, and pick them up later.

pause

*don't worry...you'll still get credits.

ELINOR. please don't act like i am so disposable. would you ever ask a photographer
to just drop off their camera and come back to pick it up? you sound crazy to me right now...no.

pause.

that hurt my feelings. what if i don't agree with the work that my name is stamped on? NO!

pause.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M SAYIN TO YOU? DOES THIS MAKE SENESE?

*yes. it makes sense. i really do understand what you're saying. i do. sorry. i'm just in a bad situation.

....it'll work out.

pause

*so wait, you're definitely not going to drop off the clothes?

......

dead air.

on repeat.

waking up from pamela shepard on Vimeo.

layers of humanity

you aint special.
just unique.
unique, just like everybody else.

...and we are all worthy of the same shit.
love.loss.pain.bliss.digression.triumph.death.compassion.deceit.growth. + + +

so (pamela) respect and remember this. because thats just the way it is.

.........

baby, i am (you are) a star.




jon brion is to charlie kaufman as stevie wonder is to spike lee.

both are so necessary.

closer.

epic - surpassing the usual or ordinary, particularly in scope or size

....

i'm 5'11...it only makes sense that this is how i am.
extreme + long.

its how i like my music...my books...my movies...everything.
epic. epic. epic.

my arguments.
my explanations.
my performances.
my silence.

.....

vignette - short, impressionistic scenes that focus on one moment or give a trenchant impression about a character, an idea, or a setting

i like this too...
i like it a lot actually.
its not lingering or potentially annoying.

it's just i'm not built like that.

.....

yoga is my latest fascination, soooo, maybe, i dunno...
i'll learn how to contort into some new positions.
short, brief, succinct positions.

....

believe it or not...
BUT
i am off to a lovely start for 2009.
i feel good.
i feel God.