Living Walls and Monica

Being a part of Dodekapus means that, at times, we commit ourselves to other organizations we believe in to assist them in achieving their goals. One of these organizations is Living Walls. "Living Walls: The City Speaks" is a conference set to take place in Atlanta, August 13-15, 2010. This conference is based on street art, and with a long list of artist coming into Atlanta from all over the world; this conference is bound to be a success!

Well... that is to say... a success without a little blood, sweat, tears, and not to mention a new friendship along the way...

Living Walls founders consist of two people, Monica and Blacki, and when they came to Dodekapus for help, it was agreed that we would put on a carnival and the end of June to help raise funds for their kick-starter. We had multiple meetings about our event, switched locations, switched the date, made a huge twister board, put together costumes, got a trampoline, got a kissing booth, cleaned out a bathtub for apple bobbing, and worked well into the night painting signs and decorating the space for the event. Throughout this event planning for our carnival, it was agreed that I, being one of the writers in Dodekapus, would write a proposal for Monica to present to business owners in Atlanta so Living Walls may be granted access to a wall on the businesses buildings. I didn't know Monica that well. I'd only seen her in passing socially, and of course, seen her at a couple Dodekapus meetings, but I was willing to work with her because I believed in her organization.

Before writing the proposal, I went one morning with Monica and another Dodekian, Ana, to look for potential walls around the city. When Monica jumped in the car, she dropped her bag and laptop on the floor, turned and looked me square in the eyes and said, "Oh my God! My hair looks like Kelly Kapowski's!" First of all, her hair did not look like Kelly Kapowski's. Monica is a beautiful Peruvian girl with beautiful Peruvian hair (not that Kelly Kapowski's hair isn't beautiful, it's just outdated). Secondly, the fact that this girl, who was pretty much a stranger to me, just jumped in my car and made a "Saved By the Bell" reference was probably the funniest thing I had witnessed in a very long time. I started laughing and assured her that she looked fine. We drove off to get Ana and continue our hunt across the city, jumping out at random intersections to snap pictures of walls, jaywalking across city street to get to certain walls, being stopped by GA State University security woman because she was convinced that the three of us were, for some reason, trying to find Six Flags in the middle of downtown Atlanta, parking illegally, hightailing it up and down the connector, and not to mention, getting lost between the West End and Castleberry Hill a time or two. By the end of the day, the three of us were bonded, and I not only wrote the proposal for Monica, but also became one of Monica's assistants for Living Walls.

Meetings and conversations with Monica changed. Oh sure... we still worked and continue to work our butts off for Living Walls, but through our work, we became good friends. We talked about boys, our love for them, our hate for them. We talked about boys we know, boys we have crushes on, and boys from our past we both want to forget. We talked about our parents. We talked about our families. We talked about money, when we have it, when we don't. We talked about art. We talked about booze, and we talked about our need for success in our different mediums of art (Monica is a visual artist who started in street art).

Carnival came and went with success. We had fun, and as with any Dodedekapus event, it got crazy. Monica worked the bar all night, and I nestled back between the kissing booth and the spirit tent. We all worked hard, we all played hard, and we all achieved the success for what was promised to Living Walls from Dodekapus, but being true to our friends, we continue (more so as individuals now) to work with Monica. With the conference being mere days away, I plan to help her as much as I can, this time not just for a simple belief in an organization, but belief in a friend I have grown to love.

Living Walls is something that will shake Atlanta up. It's something that, birthed form the minds of Monica and Blacki, is by far bigger than them, bigger than Atlanta, even. With Monica and Blacki doing interviews left and right, the success of Living Walls is already overwhelming, and I am so proud of my friend, Monica.

ARTIST COMING TO ATLANTA ON AUGUST 7TH TO PARTICIPATE IN LIVING WALLS:

Swampy
Doodles
Feral Child
Hugh Leeman
Marco Sueno
Faber
Ripo
Remed
Chris Stain
Jordan Seiler
Jeff Ferrel
Daniel Lobo
Clown Soldier
Gaia
Status Faction
Jason Kofke
Shaun Thurston
Loaf
Hellbent

AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE...

The Paper Twins



** For more information on "Living Walls: The City Speak," the artist involved in the conference, or to donate to the conference please go to www.LivingWallsConference.com. You can also find more information on Facebook.

*** For more information on Dodekapus please go to www.Dodekapus.org or look for us on facebook. You can also view the Dodekpaus Mission Statement in the blog directly below this one.

Dodekapus Mission Statement

Our vision is to establish a prominent and accessible local arts culture that sustains artist and fosters a strong connection with the community. Dodekapus plans to build new bridges to the community to allow local artist to become more involved with their neighborhoods. Dodekapus believes local involvement in the arts is an important aspect of developing a healthy local arts culture that is both stimulating and beneficial to the community. Collaboration between artist of different disciplines creates something which is greater than the sum of its parts. Through this creative process, Dodekapus can produce and develop multi-media projects which both help artist develop individually as well as produce work that can be enjoyed locally.

Haley

When I packed my bags in California, I had every intention on staying in Atlanta for the holiday season; however, immediately abandoning this upbringing and hightailing it to New York City to start a new life as a single girl at the start of the new year. Full of writing opportunities, a new outlook on being paranormal, and hope for a better future for myself, it was never in my own personal plan to stay in Atlanta. Why would I stay in here? I grew up in and around this city. In my head, there was nothing here for me. Nothing but pious churches, sweet tea, muggy summers, and bittersweet memories of a childhood I would rather soon forget. There is a saying that goes something like, "If you ever want to make God laugh, just tell God your plans." Well, what the universe had in store for me, in Atlanta, was beyond my wildest dreams. In readings* I do for others, when talking about bad a situation, out of the person's control, I say "Sometimes divine intervention comes in the form of tragedy." It is never easy for me to give out advice, and sometimes I turn a blind eye to what is happening right in front of me. I tend to ignore my personal divine intervention. But for me, my tragedy was the end of my relationship with a man I lived with and loved. My intervention was the universe getting me back to Atlanta. The divine part came in the form of beautiful, blonde, 22 year old girl named Haley.

Once I decided to stay in Atlanta, I began my quest of building a life for myself. As is true in every one's life, I tend to meet people through other people I have known before in my life. With the magical help of facebook and other social networking pages, my chain of friends began to grow. This chain, one night, led me to Young Blood Gallery, an art gallery on N. Highland nestled between Little 5 Points and the Highlands. Once arriving at Young Blood, I was greeted by a man named Jeremy. This man was dead, and wanted to talk to me. Not sure of what to do in this situation, since I was amongst strangers, I turned to my friend Elizabeth (who brought me to Young Blood and knew of my abilities) and asked her for help. "Just tell the owners," was her response. After gathering up my nerve (after all I still struggling with NOT wanting to look like a freak), I walked up to the manager, Jen, and told her about Jeremy. To my surprise, Jen and the owners were OK with what I am, and they had plenty of questions for me. We talked for a few minutes, and as we were departing I remembered them saying something about a girl named Haley, who worked there too, and could see the dead just like me. Letting it pass, I left Young Blood that night totally unaware of the friendship that was about to enter my life.

A few days later, I received a message and a friend request on facebook from Haley. In her message, she asked if we could meet and talk. We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet at Carroll Street Cafe, a little cafe in Cabbage Town. On a cold Wednesday morning in February, I met the girl who would end up warming my soul, and therefore, my life.

Once in a comfortable environment, Haley and I spoke of many things. Growing up in Macon, GA, Haley's story was very similar to my own. She, too, had her fair share of attacks, visitations, and the constant harassment from beings not in physical form. We spoke of our stomach "situations," for being a medium (as another medium described to me) your soul and spirit are on a different levels than the average person, thus, your body can't keep up, leaving the medium with terrible digestive problems. We spoke of our desire for all individual to be equal, and our personal fight to allow any people the right to marry. We talked of our desire for peace and acceptance among mankind, and our love for animals. I, on the verge of going vegetarian, and Haley, someone who had been vegetarian and vegan at different times in her life, both have the ability to see and feel animal spirits, leaving us with a constant struggle not to eat another being, created by God, with a spirit and a soul. As our friendship progressed, Haley and I became best friends. A friendship, unlike others, for Haley and I understood each other. Our conversations left that of paranormal phenomenon and moved on to other things, but deep down, we knew that out of every person we each knew in the world, we were the only two that understood what a "bad day" truly meant. We started doing readings* together, using our abilities to help people, and using each other to grow in this gift the universe had given us. "I think we were sisters in past life," Haley said to me one afternoon in the car. I shook my head yes. I had known Haley before, and would continue to know Haley throughout the rest of this life, and whatever lives we have left on this earth.

On Friday April 9, 2010, Haley called me. "Come to an art show tonight," she said. "It's in Castleberry Hill, and I want you to meet my art collective." I agreed to meet her there early, but due to getting lost and circling the Georgia dome multiple times, I arrived late. Finally, what I walked into would, again, change my life for the better. In this room of was a bunch of young people... all artist, pure artist. There were paintings on the wall, live work going on, bands preforming, and people dressed in costume with body paint from head to toe. The night was pure madness, good madness, and as the night ended, I went home with a smile on face.

Soon after the April 9th show, Haley got me to come to the collective meetings. Soon after that, I got involved with this art collective. Soon after that, I became friends with the other artists. Soon after that, these artist became my family. A family that I would miss even if I never met them. A family that I would do anything to help. A family that fully accepts me not only as a creative writer, but as a paranormal girl. A family that ends every conversation with "I love you." In such a small amount of time this group of people, who months before were complete strangers, became one of the most important things in my life. I thank my lucky stars everyday that my relationship with my ex ended, and therefore, these people came into my life.... my family.

This family is known as DODEKAPUS.



*Readings is the word that I (and Haley) use to describe what we do when we work with others on a paranormal level. It involves "reading" into people's energy to see and communicate with spirits that might be following that particular person.

Southern Thread!

Hey Everyone! Be sure to vote for my friend Stephen's band! They're competing in Battle of the Bands, and are really very good! Please go to www.theridge957.com and place your vote for Southern Thread!

New Blog should be up by the end of the week... I've talked about ghost, I've talked about demons, and now I'm going to talk about Angels. Be ready... This next blog is going to be the start of a very heavy side of Being Brice.

Thank you all again for following! Your support means the world to me! Once again... vote for Southern Thread!

Much love and peace to you all!
Brice

A Day for Kaye

In Loving Memory of Kaye Beacham
July 19, 1983- March 18, 2010

Dear Friends and Followers,

This morning the Darlington class of 2001 lost another friend, Kaye Beacham, to cancer. She was 26 years old, and leaves behind two small children. As most of you know, we were planning a benefit on the 11th of April to raise money for her treatment. From what I understand, we are still going forward with this event in hopes to raise money for her children. If you would like any information on "A Day for Kaye" please email me via this blog or on my personal facebook page. God bless her and her family during this hard time. May Kaye find peace and health in the afterlife.

Much love and peace to all,
Brice

My Monday with Moe.

Before I continue with you all on my journey in the paranormal, I want to introduce you to a very special character that will continue to make returning appearances in and out of "Being Brice," my sister's dog Moe. Moe is a black lab puppy, and although he lives with my sister in Auburn, Alabama, he does come to visit his "Aunt Brice" on occasion. Moe is nothing short of a miracle, and it's nothing short of a miracle that I survive him each and every time he comes to stay.

My father is a veterinarian, and because of this, growing up we were never short on pets. With dogs, my dad always bought the finest of the breeds, and he trained them to be obedient to their human masters. Since we, like most American kids, grew up in a house, in a neighborhood, with a yard, our dogs were... well... dogs. They got to run around freely, only returning home on command, and were not allowed inside since my mother, being loyal to her "southern" heritage, was (and still is) house proud. They had their beds, their food, and their water nestled nicely in the garage, and ONLY were allowed in the house (and by house I mean the kitchen) if the weather was dangerous.

Years have passed now, and life has changed. My parents are now divorced, and my sister and I have left home. Living in LA for me meant that I never felt I had the time or the place to have a pet. Living in Alabama for my sister meant that she has fields full of space for a little puppy to run and play. Since leaving LA and relocating back to Atlanta, my sister has taken full advantage of being so close to me, and always finds a time to drop my "nephew" off. In order to get Moe to stay in the apartment, she has to drop him off by shoving his butt through the door, saying a quick bye, and high tailing it back out again. This past Friday was the same story, and what was suppose to be a simple over night stay for Moe with my mom and step dad ended up with him staying five extra days with me. Although I love Moe with all my heart, it is hard to have him here with me... in Atlanta... in an apartment...

...And so Monday March 15, 2010, went down as follows...

At ten to seven in the morning Moe jumped on my bed ready to go... and by that I mean to go outside to the bathroom. Normally that's not too early for me, but on this particular Monday, after being up at till all hours of the night, it was a brutally early hour. Since I am in an apartment, in a city, as most of you probably are, there are particular rules that have to be followed, one of them being your dog has to be on a leash and another one being you have to pick your dog's poo up. Now, Moe is a lab, and a strong little lab at that... and I don't care what "Ceaser" says, when a damn lab wants to walk you, he'll walk you, and with Moe... he runs you. So, after putting a jacket on over my PJs to face the early morning air, I clipped the leash on Moe and the two of us went out. As soon as Moe went flying down the stairs, I knew this day was going to be a long, brutal, all consuming Moe-ish day from Hell.

As soon as we got down to the main street, and slowed down to a minor "trot," I saw Moe's nose hit the ground to smell for his place to take his morning poo. Even though it is a rule where I live to bag the poo, if no one is around and Moe finds a nice little discreet place in the bushes, I normally will a) slyly walk away with that poo-wasn't-left-by-my-dog type walk or b) kick leaves over it so hopefully no one will notice and Moe and I can go about our day without me having to put my hand near his poo. But on this particular Monday morning, Moe decided that at 7 AM he was going to plop right down in the middle of my building's freshly manicured lawn and take a huge dump right by all the little children leaving to go to school and the adults leaving to go to work. Not only did he decided to take a dump right in the open for the world to see, but he decided once his ass was close to the grown, that he was going to shuffle around and spread the love of poo all over the lawn. After the poo was "handled" by me, Moe decided to give an encore performance. Since Moe is a lab, and labs are notorious for being super friendly, Moe tends to get excited when he sees people, and in his "joy" over being amongst all the people (who, of course, found him adorable), he jumped up on a lady neighbor, and peed all over her in her work clothes. To my amazement, she was ok with it and while she ran back in to change, I bolted with Moe back into the apartment in total embarrassment, but not before making sure everyone watching knew he was my sister's dog and not my own.

After we got back in and Moe was fed, I got my laptop out to start some new drafts for my other outlets of "Being Brice." Well, Moe did not like this. At first, he did not like the attention that I was giving my laptop over him and tried to knock if off my lap, and then he changed his mind. Instead of being jealous of the laptop, he decided he was going to try to eat the laptop just as he had eaten a pencil, a wii remote, and countless shoes in our together times in the past. As his teeth wrapped around my keyboard I jumped up in horror knocking Moe off the sofa, and in his mind starting a new game. I bolted back to my bedroom shut the door on Moe and put my laptop high up in my closet so Moe could not get to it. As I opened the door back up, there sat Moe, with his head tilted sideways... looking up to me with those cute puppy eyes. I could not be too mad for too long.

As the day progressed, so did Moe's "active" personality, and as it grew, the barking began, that loud, lab bark that's meant for a farm, not an apartment. In my haste to calm him, I jump up, grabbed his bone, and tried to get him to run a couple of laps around the apartment. When nothing worked, and the barking continued, I decided to turn the music on and up in an attempt to drown out Moe's bark from the whole apartment building. Green Day did not work. Oasis did not work. The Beatles did not work, but when Lady GaGa came on, Moe shut up. He got very quiet, and then, started jumping around in a dance-like trance. Yes, my sister's black lab liked... no loved... Lady GaGa. I listened to "Bad Romance" so many times on this Monday, that next time I go to karaoke, I think I'm going to rock it. (And Yes... I am aware that Moe might be gay due to his infatuation with Lady GaGa).

After dancing his ass off, Moe passed out for all five minutes before he, once again, had to go back out. As we went out this time, it became apparent that Moe actually does know how to take his leash off. As a bird, flying low to the ground, came swooping by Moe, he cocked his head sideways, ripped off his leash, and galloped down the street after the bird. Of course this means that I (still in my PJs and no bra on) had to go galloping down the streets of Atlanta after Moe. For every loud bark Moe made towards that damn bird, I made and even louder, desperate bark-like scream at Moe to STOP! Moe, realizing that he had left me behind, finally returned to me... his head tilted sideways... again looking up at me with those cute puppy eyes... I grabbed him by the collar and we marched back into the apartment with my head tilted low in hopes that no one I know would notice me out in public, running down the streets of Atlanta, in the attire that I was in.

On our way back to the apartment from our bird run, Moe found a stick. I let him carry his stick back to the door. Once we got there, I tried to take the stick away from him, and he growled at me. In my exhaustion, I let him take the stick inside and thought to myself, "What harm could this stick do? All he's going to do is chew on it?" HA! When we were inside, I left Moe and his stick alone in the living room while I went to change (finally), and by the time I got back to the living room, little pieces of wood covered every inch of the floor. And he didn't stop there. All the pillows had been pulled down, and most of the bills that had been on the coffee table now were, too, all over the floor. At this point I didn't know if I should be mad or amazed at how quickly he made an orderly apartment look like a condemned home or pissed that I had to get on my hands and knees to pick up the mess.

After I had cleaned up Moe's mess, and ate something standing up with my arm holding my plate high in the air so Moe could not get my food, I sat down for hopes of a few moments of peace. But alas, a few seconds after I sat down, I saw that was not going to happen. Moe came galloping onto the sofa, knocking me off and standing on top of me. As I tried to get back up, he continued to push me over, and just to add insult to injury, Moe sat on my head and farted. One of those silent, nasty, dog farts. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom thinking that this just might make me vomit.

Once I washed my face, and forgave Moe for farting on me, I leashed him back up (double lock and guard this time) to take him back out to make sure that fart was not the beginning of a nasty poo. As we, again, bolted down the stairs, Moe noticed some men unpacking a U-haul, and he made a sharp turn toward the men, pulling me along behind him. One of the men went running back into the car screaming like a little girl in terror over this lab approaching, and the other (while his hand scratching his own ass) came up and stopped Moe for me. Moe, again, got very excited over all this attention the Ass Scratching U-haul man was giving him, and yes, he peed on him, too. In my total embarrassment, I pulled Moe back into the apartment, turned Lady GaGa back on to entertain him, and said a silent prayer of Thanksgiving that my mother would be here soon to take Moe out of my hands.

Although Moe is a nightmare at times, when he is away, I do miss him, and I know he will be a huge part of "Being Brice." Animals always see spirits the way mediums see spirits, and when others sense a spirit around me and run away in terror, Moe always loyally stands beside me. After all... a dog is a man's best friend...



*I apologize for this blog not being about a paranormal event. Most of my blogs are, but I felt it necessary for you, my followers to get to know Moe. He will continue to come in and out of "Being Brice," and yes, will be a part of many ghost stories to come... :) The next blog will be back to paranormal phenomenon.

Correction

One Correction that needs to be made: Even tough I said that my grandmother was my spirit guide in "The Brice Curse: Part Two," I have since learned that she is not my main spirit guide... She's just been around to guide me through what she never had a chance to teach me about in her life. My main spirit guide is a man named Louie. He died in 1737, he was French (yes he says some stuff in French from time to time that I do not understand), and he was my father in past life... I'm sure he will be mentioned more than once in future blogs.

Sadly, I see less and less of my grandmother now. Because I am starting to feel very comfortable with my abilities, she is now moving on. Peace be with her.

Thanks grandmother for sticking around for 18 years to guide me through this paranormal mess! You were patient with me, and I promise I will try to use my "gift" for good, even thought there are still days when all I want to be is normal. Hold me a spot in Heaven, and say hello to granddad!

*For those of you following, there should be a new blog up soon (as in the next couple of days). Thank you for all your support and love!