LET'S
EDIT
THIS
SHIT.

I live in a totally snazzy corner of the city with some damn fine ladies. our living room is like an avocado with ten foot ceilings. we eat inside a pumpkin.

I tramp around the cityhobostyle with a backpack full of goodies for wayward wanderings. I bump into people and dig on the energy. words often escape me. I just wanna slump against a tree and claw the lyrics of Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood into the tender bark then bandage it up, murmuring apologies. I do a lot of yoga. I throw around ink. I prey on baked goods I find on your counter (hovering, waiting for the most socially acceptable time to pounce. ) barbecue sauce is the secret ingredient. I sew things like lace to other things that look like they require lace. I like to share things. I yell "WOW" a lot.

I spent last summer hitchhikin' around British Columbia as one of the facets in a triad of rippin' female energy. dropped acid in the rainforest. danced in phosphorescence during a meteor shower. made love to the full moon. regressed former lives and bobbed to remixed Daft Punk. hoofed it up to a shrine at the centre of the universe, leaving only offerings of ragged denim and peach pits.

I don't commit to any given thought for very long.

I'm easily distracted by pretty colour combinations, odd textures, light and shadow. This might come across as disinterest in whatever the hell you're rambling on about. FALL LEAVES.

I'm into starsigns. if this bothers you profoundly we're not likely to jive.

I dig roadtrips. the longer it takes to get there, the better, as long as the company's nifty. hell, let's take a shittyass unpaved backroad and perform funeral rites for roadkill. or we could look for juicy decrepit buildings. I'll bring a variety of absurd mix cds. I don't drive but I'm always willing to play dj or flash passing cars or make lacy crafts for your grandmother or read sumptuous excerpts from books on agricultural drainage systems, or throw rose petals, or babysit sticks of lit incense, (not the upholstery!) prepare dainty crustless sammiches, and oh yeah I CAN EVEN NAVIGATE. just don't make me.

broken, rusty things make fill me with glee. I might just be that person picking through your garbage. WATCH OUT OH NO

I pick things up with my feet more often than nessecary.

I hate abrupt ends and prefer gradual shifts.

I make a point of talking to strangers. especially wrinkly, hunched strangers.

I love miniature things. I've been known to get downright sentimental over dwarfed fruit.

Editors

• whoamongthem

cultivating energy.

bangin' on shower doors. reveling in the reverberation.

collecting indian silks.

climbing things.

lying in grass.

generally wading around this city and that city and possibly at some point your city. mostly trying not to detest this city.

rollin' homestyle with my fellow comrades.

throwing fancy attire tea party raves. (bring your own fine bone china and vinyl, but I'll probably just put your albums on the bottom of the pile and spin the Ice Cube or Prince)

casting jewelry.

throwing paint around, slowing down time with my paintbrush.

yoga.
applying pigment to flat surfaces.

flipping through records

learning to bellydance.

drawing up plans for my personal arsenal of seahorses.

pretending to play the obscure little instruments I acquire here and there. plucky things. AND ALSO NOW AUTOHARP ACQUIRED FROM OLD LADY.

mostly just meditatin' and talking to myself.

distracting you with flurried, fanciful movement while I steal your thoughts and pop em in the cart of my mind for later use. or to gather dust on that slightly too-high-to-bother-reaching shelf in my mind.

dabbling, but never really committing to any particular art medium long enough to actually get shit done. fuck. my hobbies like to butt tummies and grunt at one another feverishly. they're mostly non-confrontational and rarely sink into bloody battle. I just chill out and observe.

discovering crap and finding uses for crap. or keepin' stuff with the thought of needing it mayhaps at one point or something? HOARDING

sending out clips of myself singing 90's hits to generally lighten moods.

showing affection in untraditional ways, when it's not expected.

being disorganized and sloppy.

being thrifty.

combinin' colours. and pointing out how saucy that blue scarf looks with your eyes.

steeping tea to perfection.

pretending I can sew. I collect lengths of inspirationally fantastic fabric, hoping one day I'll be able to sew them into some phenomenally mind-altering garment with ease, in a manner entirely complimentary to the mindblowing glory of said fabric. but for now, I ruin everything I cut up. as in, I cut it up, then lose the gusto to fix it. I JUST MADE A PARTY DRESS YOU GUYS

offending people on buses...? though sometimes strangers talk to me as if we're old friends... I kinda enjoy that. I've been known to crank hip hop to unreasonable volumes on my headphones just to watch old ladies glance around all bird-like head-bobbin' and disapprovin', trying to locate the asshole gangsta with the absurd raps.

watching it all go by, dippin my toe in now and then.

other than my lopsided haircut?

well!

maybe the fact that I'm flailing and ripping innocent, informative posters off rusty-staple smattered poles and makin' obnoxious noises for no other reason than AMANDA WANT FOOD NOW. GIVE AMANDA EATS.

that I smell good. usually.

that I'm dancing for no apparent reason. please, join me.

despite the warning signs you're picking up (sage scented hair), I'm not actually a forest child. I don't have a squirrel in my gigantic tote bag, though you might find a handful of moss and the banana slugs I smuggled back from the rainforest. I occasionally see untapped artistic potential within dead bird carcasses, casting them into the trunk of my friend's car for later use, with or without their consent, in the name of artistic progress. WATCH OUT

Editors

• istj4u
• quantumplation-

a. Aldous Huxley. Alan Watts, Philip K. Dick? Jack Kerouac. Douglas Coupland? maybe Palahnuik. Kahlil Gibran. I will throw a copy of The Prophet at you. E.E. Cummings poetry, when I can find it. Kurt Vonnegut. Thomas Pynchon. let's trade books, kay? know any good lectures? Dorothy Parker and Manly P Hall are my current bathroom readin' books. I'm a lecture fiend always up for new listenables to keep me company. Art history and eastern philosophy.

b. Grindhouse, Into the Wild, Amelie, Ghost World, Lost in Translation, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (like everyone else in the internet profile land, apparently) Mulholland Drive, Little Miss Sunshine, Pulp Fiction, Ichi the Killer, Run Lola Run, Tetsuo the Iron Man, El Topo, Children of Men, The Holy Mountain WE DON'T HAVE A TV MUAHAHAHAHAHA

c. Joanna Newsom plucks my heartstrings, Vashti Bunyan takes my hand and explains each of my past lives in alphabetical order. Bonnie Prince Billy gathers wood and builds me spring bonfires. Bjork makes me feel small, howling out landscapes I otherwise reach only by candlelight. Cat Stevens perches on my fence and strums some sense into me. a nude Nina Simone guards my turntable. PJ Harvey turns me on and Amon Tobin gets me off. Jeff and Tim Buckley sit either side of me on the ferris wheel while the toothpick-gnawing carnie looks up my skirt and grimaces. Tom Waits buys me a round and tries to sneak a peek up my skirt, fails, and grimaces. Xiu Xiu, Throbbing Gristle and Coil keep me company when rusty screws just won't do. Mum dances along my spine. Radiohead predicts each brushstroke even though I tell them to shut the fuck up once in a while. Sigur Ros binds to burning bergamot and missions to underexplored nooks of my (dusty) habitat.

everything else is pretty awesome too.

Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Ravi Shankar, Autechre, Tipper, Antony and the Johnsons, Crystal Castles, Faun Fables, Kid Koala, Portishead, Aphex Twin, Billie Holiday, Tracy Chapman, Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, Secret Chiefs 3, Johnny Cash, The Sugarcubes. Man Man, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Weird Al, Godspeed you!, Mogwai, The Beach Boys, Ice Cube, Dirty Three, Animal Collective, Neko Case, The Books, Immortal Technique, Ghostface Killah, Snoop Dogg, Ice Cube... and Peaches. I kinda dig Peaches. oh and experimental gangsta jazz like Golden Gate Bitches.

WOW WE APOLOGIZE IF YOU'RE STILL READING.

d. tea, asparagus, artichokes, avocados, red wine, dark chocolate. Indian. pumpkin pie. raw hulled hempseed. apples, bartlett pears, mulled apple cider, clementines!

been vegetarian for a few years now. I don't care what you do. respect.

A whole fuckload of things I'd rather not do without:

thoughtful people of the friend-type to wrestle-hug and generally collide with regularly. hugs that leave bruises, carpet burn, and holes in the walls of ghetto Mexican-infested apartment buildings. the kind of hug that evokes smoky spirals of nostalgia, gently fishing secrets from your throat.

tea. especially matcha.

shit to paint with and on.

yoga.

verdigris.

sneezes.

prayer.

pins.

wanderlust.

incense. particularily white sage.

sassy smellin' soap.

doilies.

psychedelics.

pockets full of trail mix. actually, pockets.

someone for all night art collaborative jams. this includes anything from sonically astounding music ventures, paint hucking, cabaret-themed photo shoots, acid dropping, roof climbing, interpretive dance choreography, brooch making while comparing starsigns, making out...

touch.

a ridiculous music collection on vinyl. plenty of stuff with plucky little instruments, harps and music boxes.

Autumn.

ooh, and get me thoroughly lost. roadtrippin, wandering. the destination doesn't matter.

my leather backpack.

that's it.

(and thanking) the universe. (every few minutes)

arty shit. (often)

inoculate (often)

shared body warmth. (often)

British Columbia (often)

magpies (often)

how to attach this to that to you (sometimes)

pondering the possibilities if I found out I was somehow distantly related to Weird Al. man that'd be so awesome. we'd go on playdates and he could give me pushes on the swing and i'd get higher and higher and higher then it'd suddenly get too high and the chain'd do that jerking thing that means fun time is officially over then I'd say "AL, NO." and then we'd go for icecream but his scoop would fall off and I'd sigh and give him mine but he'd be sad cause we had different flavors and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough (now with 33% more chips!) ain't a fair replacement for Rocky Road. (more often than I'd like to)

the unattainable mass-deliciousness of animated food. don't get me started, sir. I'm thinking the pizza in All Dogs Go to Heaven, or the zebra leg in The Lion King. If you get what I'm talking about, message me, we'll be good friends. (sometimes)

ooh, and taxidermy. (daily)

Editors

• quantumplation-

yelling "FUCK FRIDAY NIGHT" with inoculate

toboganning.

eyeing you suspiciously.

making a mean veggie sandwich for a dear friendling or ransacking the grocery store for COOKIES NEED COOKIES NOW

hugging someone or something.

stuck in Toronto at some ungodly hour, probably dancing or climbing on a roof. probably listening to Arab beats with my favorite Chola, inoculate of course, dreaming about mexicans. or dancing about mexicans. (interpretive)

engaged in a collaborative artistic endeavor.

sitting around here sipping something.

I am a cuddle fiend.

I learned how to ride a bike last week.

my fish are named after painting supplies. (RIP liddle buddies)

hanging clothing outside in the cold to dry makes me feel guilty.

you are:

-hoarding a collection of rusty, decrepit, splintery, dusty, chipped odds and ends that you don't know what to do with. mail em to me! keys, notes, scrap paintings, scrap fabric, doilies! texture!

-secretly blasting Ice Cube right now. ODB or Snoop would be acceptable too. slitty eyes left. slitty eyes right. raised eyebrows. slow head bob.

-a vinyl fiend. I need a fellow vinyl fiend. I'm definitely referring to records, not a second skin.

-a fire or earth sign and you'd like to explain in detail how you think to an air sign who understands water signs. or if you're down with astrology in general.

-lookin for a tea date.

-fancy a picnic and the possibility of summer toboganning. seeecret eatings. outings. I have a hookah that's just itchin' to get out and about. mango sheesha?

-wanting to construct a fort. a fort for cuddling and lamplit clementine consumption.

- icelandic!

-looking for a friend to practice yoga with

-fancying a rummage through the garbage bags filled with me brodda's old used clothing in the front hall at midnight. " OH MAN NEON NINJA TURTLE SHORTS, SCORE"

-getting a weird grass-blowing-in-the-wind haiku moment. or you didn't just find this amusing. as much as I'm down with makin people laugh I'm mostly interested in whether you actually connected with it.

want to:

-loiter in the taxidermy section of the ROM for a day.