Dear CA,

I'm hopeful.
I miss your dirt. I miss your smell and chill. I miss your daylight and your late Monday nights. I was thinking about you the other day while standing in my bathroom. I own a framed postcard with an image of a smiling woman whose arms are stretched out in front of her while standing in the Redwoods. I replaced it with a old torn map of the Bay Area while it was on loan for the purpose of a having a bit of California in Minneapolis for the month. She's now back and now lives in the hallway outside the bathroom. I got used to the map and so I didn't move it. Anyways, I had the terrible thought while hanging her that it may be awhile until we meet again. I have somehow become a bit more responsible and have come to realize that I can't just skip town and take off. I know, it's a terrible thought. I don't want to deal, but I've found myself deep in this kick of honesty and well, this fits the bill. I'm privileged to have the time that we had together, and to have met the finest of folks through you and your beauty. I still loved you through those shakes and rumbles, steals and deals and most importantly, the high price of your worth. I should have realized what I had at the time, but so it goes.
As a side note, I've found that tennis ball cans are perfect for holding sandwiches. Two Jasmin Deli sandwiches will be shipped overnight to the lovely LOLO for him to enjoy and also remember what it is that he could have everyday (closed Mondays) if he only lived here. I know that he wants to raise his future babies in this fine cold city, so what's the rush? No rush. He'll be here soon enough. In return I shall receive my favorite burrito from my favorite shop, El Metate. The place where the Midwesterners love to eat partially due to the fact that it was located down the street from the house that was filled with Minneapolis friends and possibly our hotdish-like love for mushy sweet foods. It was also on route from BART and if you timed it right you could make it in time to bring a burrito to the party. The Californians didn't seem to like it there. I didn't seem to like what they loved. We managed to deal with this dilemma over a trip to several burritos shops until we could all be happy.
So, this is all I can give you for now. I do love the thought of stealing my good friends from you. It's a hard thing though with your fucking beautiful weather and all. I hope that we can meet again soon.

P.S. Enjoy your sammys Loren and please don't forget about the sour cream issue. Your right, it would have been a bad idea.

love,
Crystal

Positive Sads: females in the ferns

My winter procrastination project.
Frown with a smile, please.





edition of 200
32 pages
Black & White/Pink
$10 big bones
email- crystaljeanquinn(at)gmail.com

I paper mache with your paintings Elizabeth Peyton

February is gone. The partition was built a month ago, which really feels like hardly a week and details of the construction are already a bit fuzzy. Monica got into town on the 10th and starting the 11th we began living behind the thick wall, under stitched lace and then finally inside what seemed to become a teenagers club/cave. I'm beat.
'Our Starry Universe' was the place where we found no rest. The sun never woke us and the night ceased to exist. A few of my fingers have been sliced and diced from so much wood and metal. My knees are cut and bruised and I've got some new fancy lines on my arms. I'll never see tetris the same way or finger knitting at a book fair for that matter. New friends were had and old friends made it into town.
I need a licorice break.
It was nice seeing so many beautiful faces at the opening this past weekend. If you find the time, head down to 35th and Nicollet at check out the outcome of our collaborative installation with Miss Monica Canilao at Art of This. Maybe the cold will clear up enough to get us all back on our bikes by the time we take the whole thing apart.

whoop