The Map of a Truck

Today I recorded my final rap for Amanda Palmer's 'Map of Tasmania.'

Today Jim is working on 'The Organ Donor's March' animation, cutting up pieces of paper, figuring things out. I love to watch him work.

Today I found out my childhood friend is in a coma here in Melbourne. She was run over by a garbage truck. Her pelvis is crushed. Her coma is medically induced, they don't want to wake her up. Too much pain. She can't breathe on her own, there are machines to do it for her.

We grew up not far from each other, in the countryside of Ontario, Canada. Her family and my family were good friends. I have so many memories of those beautiful, blonde sisters and their fairytale home. She has lived in Melbourne for years. She is insanely smart, like scary smart. When she was five she had a better vocabulary than most professional writers. She's a lawyer now. She's 27. She was run over by a truck. A fucking truck.

Humans are so little. So fragile. Trucks are big. And stupid. Who the fuck thought of trucks?

I want to keep smiling and believe that she will be ok. Because humans are fragile but they are also very strong. And resilient. And she's so smart and determined and beautiful. She must know how to fix herself. Even in her sleep.

She was riding her bicycle to work.

I write a blog, I send emails, I record a song. I keep doing things. Intermittently, I cry. Quietly.

I want to be able to make her all better. I want to fix everything.

Jim cuts paper. I send some more emails. And I try to understand how to keep going when someone so beautiful is hurting so badly. And I can't do anything about it.

Queens of the Desert!

I've been wanting to do this ever since I've been in Australia - actually ever since I saw "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." Now I am happy.

Also: These people make me happy...

Sometimes I look at these photos when I'm sad.

So much love.

XXK

Unicorns and Happiness

by Cynthia

For my birthday I asked people to draw me riding a unicorn, and I got some very lovely submissions. These make me really happy. 

Enjoy!

By Melissa Dowell

by Alice 

From Dietmar 

by Floriana

By Jewell

by Jini

 by @kandis123

 by @klockan8

by The Kiska

The Kiska also included this amazing email explanation. Subject line: I'M AN ART MAJOR

"Dearest Kim,

Happy birthday! I hope it was an awesome one. As requested, I have drawn you YOU, riding a unicorn. But it's MORE than just you riding a unicorn! I would like to point out straight away that you are, indeed, naked. But there is fair reason for that. In a world where unicorns just step out of hiding at 9 AM and allow you to ride on them, do you honestly think people would worry about clothing? Of course not! They'd HOP on his/her/it's/hir's back without a second thought and ride until they needed to stop for food or perhaps a bathroom break! And, if they WERE wearing clothing, ANYONE would tear the fabricy strands from their body from SHEER excitement!

Secondly, you also have lobster claws. There's a good reason for that too. It's your birthday present. Gifts are best when they're filled of things you do NOT expect and when was the last time someone drew you naked with lobster claws? WHILE riding a unicorn? It's your special day. Embrace your gorgeous hands. They'll help you catch your prey or pick little buggies out that are nezzled in Unicorn's hair. They also produce sparkles.

You're also a faerie.

Lastly, the upper left hand corner was very bland, so I tried to draw you a mango vine. But the mangos just looked like a bunch of deformed glaring eyes with streamers running through them, so I drew you a glass of wine. Clearly, Unicorn is bringing you right to it and you can reach out with your lobster claws and grab it. I hope you're not allergic to wine. Lots of people I know have grown an allergy to wine within the past two weeks. If so, then it's grape juice. And if you're allergic to grapes all together, it's blood.

I hope you had a FABULOUS birthday (by the looks of your blog, it seems so!). I've always wanted to be friends with and ride a unicorn too. I know it'll happen some day.

Enjoy your drawing of you! Keep happy and awesome!! Much love!

.Kiska"

Where in the world - Byron Bay, Australia

Photo by Jim Batt

Kim Boekbinder, Amanda Palmer, Saint Clare

I'm in Byron Bay, Australia. Jim Batt, Amanda Palmer, and Eric Sussman flank me. We are the dreaded macbook brigade. The cafe tries to hate us but we are charming.

Eleventy million things to say, but not much time for saying.

I'm trying to figure out how to tour. I love playing. I need to do a lot of work to figure out how to afford launching a good tour. I've just plotted out the next year of schedule, things will surely change but it helps to have even a shadow of a plan. I want to be everywhere at once. I want to go to every city and play in every place I can.

I have so many ideas and so many plans.

My show is getting better every time I play. Being on tour with Amanda Palmer is really good for me. We play, we laugh, we look good in sparkles. We go naked night swimming. We work all day on laptops. We live.

Photo by Jim Batt

Kim Boekbinder with Mikelango and Saint Clare

Walking Into The Sky

This is a sort of follow up to the last blog in which I said:

"…one of my deepest fears is that nothing will ever be enough, that I will be too busy reaching for the next shiny red apple to notice the juicy ripe peach that's in my mouth. I always want more. And striving is a wonderful thing, reaching for the stars is grand, but not if you miss the life while you're living it."

A few days ago an old friend wrote to me - I've known her since the day she was born - she was writing to tell me how much she loves me, she misses me and is wondering how my life is. I wrote her a very brief update:

"Hi!

I'm in Australia - in love with super amazing lovely Australian artist and film maker who makes my heart bigger and stronger and lovey. His name is Jim. Kim and Jim. Jim and Kim. Lalala.

You can see his stuff here: http://www.jimbatt.com

I'm touring a bit with my friend Amanda Palmer who has a cult following. We just played at the Sydney Opera House which was fun and great. I play dress up for a living!

I released my album - you can get it here: http://music.kimboekbinder.com

I'm glad to hear your mum is better. And that your dad is well.

Let's have a skype date after your thesis draft and my tour is done. Mid feb - your birthday time!

Love!!!

K"

And she wrote back:

"WOW!
Amazing!!!
That's incredibly wonderful and my heart is soaring for you, your Love and your fun tour with Amanda (who is exquisite, I MUST say...)
This is so great----darling, in case you haven't noticed…you're DOING IT!
I am so proud that you are playing dress-ups for a living and can't help feeling like a rooted part of that crazy tree...and I'm so glad to know you still my darling friend."

**


And then I think, "Yeah…I'm doing it, aren't I?"

It's easy to think it isn't enough. I don't want to just rap in one song at the Sydney Opera House, I want my own fucking show there. I don't want to just release an album, I want it to be a runaway hit.

But this is a step. A good step. A step that needs to be made. Release the album, play the little shows. Be the support act. Sometimes you play to empty rooms. But always be sparkly, always give it everything, always be present, always be you.

I'm impatient. Yes. But I can be present. Right now. I am doing it. Playing dress up for a living. Having hard shows, good shows, great shows. Being no one, being someone, being.

Step by step, slowly and with intention. Head up, heart open. Walking into the sky.

Photos by Jim Batt

Where in the world - Sydney, Australia

Good morning! Or afternoon, or evening or whatever it is for you.

I'm in Sydney, Australia, sitting in a living room in a house filled with international surfers who are speaking Portuguese and German. The view from this house is incredible, it reminds me that being next to the ocean makes me a better person. Waves and rocks and ocean wind. Horizon without obstruction. Nature being itself; powerful, ever changing, intense.

I came here on Wednesday to rap with Amanda Palmer at the Sydney Opera House.

This is what I look like while waiting for a suitcase.

I had some very sparkly ladies on stage with me, they worked out a whole dance to 'Map of Tasmania' and included some special moves for my rap.

The Go Girl Gadget Go Go dancers! 

My very favorite part of the evening is that Neil Gaiman paid me a compliment. It isn't the first compliment Neil has ever paid me, but this one was special. As a writer, and a lover of language, Neil is someone who knows the value of words. He is not given to hyperbole the way that most of us are. He does not describe everything as "epic" or "amazing" or "fantastic" (I describe things that way all the time  - I have become stuck in the tantalizing honey of the hyperbole trap of our modern culture.) Neil says things are 'nice' or 'rather nice' or 'lovely.' He talks the same way he reads, in a very deliberate way. He uses words the way they are meant to be used, to mean the things they actually mean and he is very easy to understand.

But after our gig at the Sydney opera House Neil said,

"I really enjoyed your rap tonight. You killed it."

And I was so flattered and flustered that I said something like, "Thank you. I had fun killing it. Killing is fun. I like killing..."


***

Last night Amanda and I played a very special house show for about 40 people. It as intimate and rare and great. Before we played we ate and everyone went around the table and introduced themselves. Amanda said we should all state our deepest fear as well. And that was brilliant, it made us all vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

The concept of a 'deepest fear' is interesting. There are so many to choose from: visceral, physical, animal instinct kind of fears, like the fear of spiders or being eaten alive by lions (one of mine.)
Or emotional, philosophical, modern day fears, like being mediocre, getting stuck in a dead end job and never reaching the dream. And they are all real, all deep, all scary.

I said I was afraid of performing solo - which is true. And then I sang. And then Amanda sang. And then we took this picture with the group:

***

Sydney is a very beautiful city. I'm having a great time. I rapped (I RAPPED!) at the SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE - probably the world's most recognizable venue. I'm palling around with wonderful, kind, creative, intelligent people. I just released an album. I have a really wonderful partner who matches me intellectually, creatively, intuitively, emotionally, physically. And he's SO cute:

And sometimes I look like this:

I have to list these things for myself. To remind myself to look at the wonderful things I have. Because one of my deepest fears is that nothing will ever be enough, that I will be too busy reaching for the next shiny red apple to notice the juicy ripe peach that's in my mouth. I always want more. And striving is a wonderful thing, reaching for the stars is grand, but not if you miss the life while you're living it.

And sometimes I move too fast, reach too far, want too much to see that HOLY HELL: my life is fantastic.

Sure, things can always be better. Truth is, album sales are slow, I am COMPLETELY out of money - in the super scary, pit of nausea, heart aching anxiety, way. My computer is on its last legs and hardly ever concedes to connect to the internet for long enough to post photos or write blogs. And I may never be able to afford touring again.

But those things are all part of my job. Because I consider it the job of the artist to live on the edge. The edge of sanity, the too scary, too much, too close, too hard edge. Sometimes it's money, sometimes it's loneliness, sometimes it's the art itself. And being out of money and scared and still moving forward even if it means not eating, or losing everything, is the edge that I am on.

And the view from here is AMAZINGLY EPIC and rather nice, as well:

***

All photos by Jim Batt (except the BBQ photo. And the photo of him, which I took.)

Best Birthday (UNICORNS!)

I just had the best birthday ever. Yesterday I was being miserable. I hate birthdays. And I can be quite miserable. And then, while rolling around in a heap of badness, I had the clarity to ask myself what exact purpose my misery was serving. Unable to come up with an answer I decided to ignore the crappy voices inside my head that tell me I'm not working hard enough/being good enough/taking over the world enough/beautiful enough/skinny enough/lovable enough/sparkly enough and that I would just have a nice time instead.

And I did:

I got breakfast in bed

I got absinthe. And a Zoom audio recorder. I got lots of sparkly things.

I got fish and chips. Friends came over and we talked and laughed and drank absinthe and made stupid videos and kissed. And now I'm writing a totally indulgent blog about NOTHING AT ALL. Except just to say:

I have been drinking absinthe. And I have had a wonderful day.

Not that much absinthe.

But lots and lots of wonderful.

I wish I could figure out how to be happy more often. How to be not so hard on myself for not curing death/inspiring world peace/scoring the most beautiful symphony ever heard by human ears/ having perfect eyelashes. But today it was enough to just be nice to myself - or rather - to tell the inner voices to take a day off and SHUT THE FU*K UP.

*

Also...ohh! Birthday wish: please, pretty please, draw me riding a unicorn. I so so so so SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO badly(goodly?) want drawrings of me riding unicorns.

I will be happy FOREVER if you send me a drawing.

Quick sketch or epic masterpiece - all manner of magical unicorn ridingness will be accepted, nay! cherished!

send to: kim - at - kimboekbinder.com

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!