All posts filed under: Mind

Tax Day

Sometimes, bombs go off, and you don’t even realize the impact they’ll have through all the smoke and chaos and initial “WTF happened?”. Meaning sometimes, it’s not the Apocalypse but the Aftermath that really stings, that lingers in the air—often invisible but still noxious, clouding your senses.Vinyl of the day: “So runs the world away” by Josh Ritter. The fallout feels like fog. I owe(d) thousands to the IRS. To me, numbers are painful realizations that make self-employment feel like Sisyphus-style self-immolation. Fortunately, there’s food. And silk. And vintage “pearl” neckties. And Dan Costello. Even, and especially, on tax day. I don’t even know how he does it. He took the scraps of haphazard, neglected and wilting vegetables and over-exposed-to-the-air tortillas and made magic happen. We got this cast iron dutch oven somewhere for some such cheapness (Dan will remember and I’ll ask him later and then delete this part with just a cheap-ass number and you will forget this sentence ever existed. Poof. Like magic). All this became Black bean & radish fried tortilla pie.Then …

Cheep story-time EARTH

[Prologue: So this is the story I wanted to tell tonight at Story Story Night. I left a few crucial things out in the live telling, but that’s the nature of the beast. But, from what I’ve learned, the journey is the destination, anyway. So spin it however you want. I have abbreviated names to somewhat to protect the innocent, and the not so innocent.] This is a story about wildness, and wilderness, and about what really happens when you sow your wild oats, and are later forced to reap that sometimes bitter fruit. For me, the wild sowing really started when, at 20, I fell in the love for the first time with my first lover, perhaps the worst possible person to pair with my virginal, idealistic young soul. Let me explain. My upbringing was very sort of Dr. James Dobson Focus on the Family Christian. When time came for sex ed, it was abstinence-only all the way, baby. We used to have these sex ed books for young Christian teens. They were chose …

The epic Rockies’ dress + lightsaber duel

My industry, which is advertising (I am an independent copywriter), holds one epic, no-holds-barred awards show every year. Called the Rockies, the event serves as Idaho’s first stage in the national Addy competition, and also as a forum for the 350+ ad peeps in the state to get completely blotto en masse in as little as 20 minutes. In true Oscar’s style, the organizers pair up presenters to introduce each category and announce the winners. Magically, and probably because I host  Story Story Night monthly without having vomited once, I was asked to be a presenter along with the elites of the agencies. I persuaded my independent designer friend and Armor Bijoux dealer (tagline: “Jewelry for the fashion war.” «We wrote that together. Brilliant.) Bethany Walter to join me on stage. Rarely do we get these sort of epic dress-up opportunities. I knew I needed something dynamite. And, three weeks ago at Repeat Boutique (500 South Vista Avenue, Boise, ID 83705), I found a vision of wearable vintage art. The craftsmanship and thought that went into this dress is unbelievable. I modestly refer …

Story-time: Cezanne in Russia

I’m a story addict. Seriously. I dope myself up on the stuff until I just can’t take anymore and then I take some more. I especially like when people read stories aloud. I listen to David Sedaris and Anthony Bourdain (my current out-loud favorites) books on tape over and over and over again until their petulant yet hilarious voices permanently seep into the drywall, emitting the odor of sarcasm. It’s a reason I am a co-founder of Story Story Night. Free, unfiltered access to stories every month? Yes, please. So today, I’m introducing a new feature called Cheep Story-time. This will feature original non-fiction and fiction stories by yours truly, Jessica Holmes (or as Dan points out I say on Story Story Night podcasts “Jess-ka Holmes,” or as once known to my then toddler sister “Ca Ca”), a self-acclaimed serious bad ass writer. And they won’t be boring, promise. They will be good stories, read loud. Cheep-tainment, baby! AUDIO: Cheep Story-time by Jessica Holmes: Cezanne in Russia The above story recounts my move, as a naive, …

Cheep backgrounder

Starting a public-facing blog begs self-examination. I think things like, “Seriously, who do you think you are? What do you know about any of this stuff? You think you’re a simulacrum of Tim Gunn and Padma Lakshmi and Anthony Bourdain and those Brits from Changing Rooms (the much better BBC precursor to Trading Spaces. And yes, I watch too much reality television) on a die-hard budget. But who are you really? A nobody.” Well that’s just it really. I am a nobody, and I felt like one nearly all my life. I wasn’t born with a 75% off Calvin Klein jumper on and a fabulous art-deco mobile over my vintage crib. I was a shy, utter depressive from the age of 11 to at least my mid-20s (RIP, soul-raking sadness). I dressed in rotations of cliché awfulness: like a hobo, like a punk, like a preppie conformist. I ate meat and potatoes and once-frozen vegetables for dinner nearly every night, along with all the processed crap that makes up the blighted American food landscape. I …