Leemonster's Reckless Recluse

Old bad sketches and new bad sketches and one good one

2012-01-18T07:15:00.000-08:00

Old bad sketches and new bad sketches and one good one

Some umm moments.

I reached down into my childhood and remembered a friend who stuffed a small red fuzzball up his nose. It was elementary school. The ambulance was called.

"I didn't mean to be so remarkably unoriginal, but that's okay. I didn't even know. Subconscious screw." ~2005/06

Revisit-Planet

2012-01-10T01:29:00.000-08:00

One day there will be no blogs, just like the time before there were blogs.. And all of this could have been more time outside taking photographs like this.. But one day there will be no photographs, just like the time when all some had to do were to create statements like this that really did not need to become material at all. People would read things like that seriously, Really.

Avoid pop culture for several years then re-emerge back into society.. Take two Tylenol or one Aleve, Proceed.

I am my own worst critic.. But I've never received any reviews, really.
Rebuild

Wreck rebuild destroy fulfill
Rebuild wreck destroy fulfill
Destroy fulfill wreck rebuild
Fulfill wreck rebuild destroy
and it all came back.It always does
to create rather than suppress.

Revisit PLANET

Uillie

Regain patience, it gives moment for perception.

Life Body


Snarkled Chandeliers

The endless pit of inspiration never ends.

That is why it is endless.. because, well, there is no end.

(It sounds much more convincing depending on how you say it.)

De-program, clarify.. Make up a new word.. Stick an 'L' in the word WORD.

The endless pit of inspiration never ceases neither in melancholy or joy

Chandeliers hovered from silver warbly clouds

they clankered and they clanged

They rattled and they danggg'ed

Then they fell down,

So ducks had to watch their feet for a while.


Blooood Puuuumper

The human body is a factory. The mind and the outside, organic in production. Thought pumps possibility.. Denial seems the fear of ability to imagine. Fear not patterns that caused pain in the past, nothing is more painful than avoiding new situations.

Patience invites focus, and interpretation. Seeing the same scene a million ways with one new perception every day. Never-get-bored.

My own life work will ensure my death

Death to the category and death to the death of things
and death to saying death to the death of things
and death to the category!

And life to those daring to live life focused upon life without regards to preparing for the death of things.

Hermit curse: Appreciate the stillness.
Mantras of productivity.
'I Am' is not egotistical.
Recognizing power of the self is not egotistical or narcissistic.
Had levels of steadiness been morphed to assume we are feeble..
The prime stillness to act as if ordinary mindset is to be stagnate..

Rubber bands and hair ties held the camera to the tripod.. the screw mount slipped. This camera is a survivor. Dropped and mucked yet it still operates when it can. Ghetto technology needs that extra oomph of wanting to get things done. It's a joy and torture. It's beauty and a bitch. The word oompth looks like 00 MPH. Pretty slow.

Treat every woman as a Goddess and creator every man as a brother and lord. If you enjoy being ripped off and screwed and spit on so be it but dammmmnn if it does not seem natural or just: Participation is the will and creation of rhythm. (This is just a note to self and not some dogmatic entry of pish posh.)
Snails hold the missing key. Slugs, trees, hills of dirt hold the key.
Jokers and lunatics seem, to jokers and lunatics, to be more stable than some willingly enough to reside in (a) stable

An abstract metronome beats the head of measurements.

Editeditediteditedit lifetimes of editing is it beautiful is it horrible, a far off refuge filled with soul-gunk vision to an eyeless one. "More people write poetry than read it... More people write poetry than read it." G.Carlin.

If dicks are evil, birth is a half-sinister process and if nudity is shameful, birth is fully sinister.
I actually like that one. if I got assraped by a media executive maybe there would be a chance for that phrase to be in some little book where little fragmented phrases make up the entirety of an individual like Bob Marley posters sold at frat stores. But there is optimism. There are no reasons for record companies now, nor religion, really..
That last paragraph will be regretted, at a later point, but the chance to say something regrettable to learn from will not be taken in shame!
Judge not n'les ye be judged by a judge who is taking bribes.

Fear not love means trust love if you read it right. Does believing love seem backwards. REVERSE.

You start to have ideas that are shunned, ideas that are not systemic. Analyzing or at least attempting to in as honest a way as you can by capturing the process of belief system, by going deeper to the root, causes measure to shred out of the skin of old identity . Finding your own answers: It puts you further and further away from that system to where your own truths become absurd to the grand game, and the grand game's ideas of limitation or presence act as ridiculous to you.

Between delusion and belief, imagination and limits it becomes almost a just outlook that our inherent truths are seemingly agreed delusions, like the delusions of fear or skepticism to somebody else's dreams. If somebody's dreams do not harm another human being then how is it ridiculous.

Reverse, growing backwards, wisdom grows to childishness.

Circulate the forms, The rise of Priestess swings
Slipping through the matter outside of walls and chains
The Jackal sits nearby waiting for any moment to protect
The alter is a state, The state is Soul and Mind
Arising is from within rather than calling others blind.
The Arc of covenant from your ass on up
If thought inside is tipsy, the world out mirrors corrupt
Recognize ability, there are no idle thoughts
Manifest positivity, The physical that thought has brought.

We're all still itty bitty children.


Ideal Living situations

Consensus Island: Absurdity, myth, folklore

Fact: 100% of all stated facts will at one point be proven fraudulent. Fact: 100% of all stated facts will at one point be proven fraudulent. Fact: 100% of all stated facts will at one point be proven fraudulent. Fact: 100% of all stated facts will at one point be proven fraudulent.

I didn't realize I was saying 'thingisms' until I read P.K.D's Lies Inc.
Some things are just inherent and it should not be too much of a drag to feel lessoned in an individual or original approach.. much like "original" referring to Organic, or to the root (referring base point.) Hell, even that observation was lifted from somebody else.

Automatically Entered

2012-01-10T00:43:00.000-08:00

A saying:
I slept like an Anglo.

&
Then there's this.

It's funny because it makes sense.

Welcome

2012-01-01T05:38:00.000-08:00

Uncaught, Rather: FREED

If I could look through your eyes
I'd squint and see your nose.

101 cat photos plus three more

2011-12-28T08:59:00.000-08:00

Periodicals Melodie

2011-12-12T21:25:00.000-08:00

Prototypes for ideas?
The whole world shook.

Irish philosopher George Berkeley (1685-1753) had an angle called immaterialism. In his 1710 work A Treatise Concerning the Principals of Human Knowledge, he wrote: "the observing mind of God makes possible the continued apparent existence of material objects."
-A Psychonaut's Guide To The Invisible Landscape Dan Carpenter PG 54

"Diogenes stood outside a brothel, shouting, "A beautiful whore is like poisoned honey!
A beautiful whore is like poisoned honey! A beautiful whore . . . ". Men entering the
house threw him a coin or two to shut him up.
Eventually Diogenes had collected enough money and he too went into the brothel."

To express is to make known, to state, articulate, communicate, convey
The experience of blood through a vein with perception as the frame
If we are actors upon a stage--- Change the script

This is a play. This is all a play. Be playful

The audience was unseen but felt.
Wading through low caverns through a violet liquid skimming through a connected top layer
like that of pudding skin, this cavern of the human mind was a realm to manuever through the
tools of the human eyes.
Outer space being inner, Each star richocheted from a cell. The Hive is I-live, with the I being
so close to 'live' that a golden radiance will penetrate all cells if programmed reactions are shed
by returning childish.
Evidence of wade-path was trailed behind as fresh lines of violet pudding top formed line throughout
the cavern.
Everybody's story will be told. It cycles itself through visions lasting forever and also able to be crumpled
up and re-written all over again.

A sound of whisping wind graduates in no particular timing through the tunnels of the cavern, knee high
in violet liquids. The tunnels come to a shore where it seems a racketing construction occupies the audio
of the mind realm.
A mantis upon a jackhammer was busting thick stones beyond the shore.
A peach hue mixed with the violet caverns in pins of light coming from what were holes poking through the
upper layers of hard stone proceeding the earlier pudding-topped cavern outlets.

A torrent of past memories swept from left to right in a speedy breeze of voice compilations from personal
thoughts to Barney Rubbles, political media stresses, childhood teachers but also, not excluded were dreams and masturbation fantasies, old answering machine messages and elementary-school-in school-suspension-lectures for getting knees muddied during hill-rolling in recess melded with aspirations, and reactions.
They all swept by in such a flash that the taste and smell and touch all mixed into something that would fill
one grip where blueberry mixed with the feeling of climbing and stress and psychic putzes were gushed into
faint nothingness from fluids of every prior orgasm all combined into an orchestra of one tsunami.
The seeds of life birth thought when they do not impregnate the physical nothing births, yet still then thought morphs into physical whether intended or not.. what we call synchronicities culminate to those who pay attention.
All in a flash without any date or time limit, Deep recollections are possible even within the field trip
or prowess of the inner-mind.
Ratt ttt driddgggeee clunk chipp shatttrrr the jackhammer chunked up the thick violet formations speckled
with the peach shaded pinlights from above.

Unnoticed, by the Mantis, wearing a hardhat, continued.
Holding out my front hands, invisible... just as that audience had felt..
Upon recognzing, or searching them, my hands took form of flesh.
"Welcome to Viarn'es, commodore!" Mantis stopped the hammer and tipped it's
construction hat.
A plastic shine of the long, sturdy legs... Candy and landscape green.
"This is your playground" the worker began to speak.

The framework of an idea. The falling and resurrection of the fruitious Haleigh Hazel

Feel pride in existing how you exist if it is from the heart. Shame is the pressure of fears or an anxiety of committing full heart, Unless it is just a sneeze.


Aiem'on In The Cyclical The moon..has no hands

Test human capabilities. Construct. Negations dissolve. Construct.

Is this a wall or is there distance.. Climb either way.

Direction

The Human Experience. The heart knows no 'no'. The heart knows. The human experience.

The lure is out of your mouth.. 'You' can follow the lure, still.. but, there's SPACE to explore.

Guest

Long ago there was a blind racoon mother with ~6 babies. She'd take them to the cat dishes and they would eat up.

Re-evaluate, Re-evaluate, Re-evaluate.

Once again once again once again once again with this one

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
-Albert Einstein

There's an amputated clock in a forever whirl. Three killers no longer surge.

In finite in fine world. What do our shadows seem, strange? Compared to shades seen in two suns.

The Human Experience. The heart knows no 'no'. The heart knows. The human experience.

Congratulations, you are a physical being.

Re-directing BUSYness means time to look..

Fun device

Every white becomes a seagull when focusing on the background birds

The audience was unseen but felt.. manuever through the
tools of the human eyes. After speaking "I see you" 3 minutes before shutter-snapping.

Periodicals-peep

2011-11-27T22:11:00.000-08:00

Eat

2011-11-14T02:46:00.000-08:00

Omaha Sentinel

2011-10-31T17:19:00.000-07:00

Fort Sanders, 1868
Slanders. Salamanders. Sally meanders.
Sanders, sanders, fort sanders, fort sanders.

Omaha Sentinel
This image resulted from tampering with an A.J. Russel photograph from a book that is called Westward to Promontory. There are a lot of great photographs within this book so I decided to do a rare thing which is to cite the source, though usually it's only cuts of advertisements as edited into photographs aside
A portrait was taken of General Grant at Fort Sanders

photo:A.J. Russel

A woman's face was enlarged enough to stir up enough grain to heighten texture after being patterned.
The moth is a Riley Saintclaire Daniels who flew all the way from Greensburrough, Cincinnati to here to pose, not poise, for the photograph on the 9th month of 2011.

Omaha Excursion takes the same approach of patterning an old photo and laying an edit over the top. In this case I found an image of a story character I created that matched up well to the protruding figure creating the outer center square.
Spare images:

Agility, CD Set project and Fat naked Beer-gut man Enjoys a Beer on his Lawn chair

2011-10-09T12:51:00.000-07:00


Agility Coming soon, probably:

There'll be a book of artwork that goes along with the audio.
Meshing it all in to a film format would be great but this ghetto computer could not currently handle that.

Sample, maybe:
http://www.archive.org/download/PocketMoths/02ManifestcdSampler.mp3

http://www.archive.org/download/MaulingListIii/01-MaulingListVolIII.mp3

I saw a squirrel drop around 40 feet from out of a tree and hit the ground. It bounced immediately and made a sound that is similar to what you might hear if you throw a halfway-deflated basketball against the broad side of a barn. ('You couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with a vertigo infused squirrel even if you tried!' said Jimbo. 'Jimbo, you're an asshole!' replied Barry.'..and I could too hit the broadside of a barn with a vertigo infused squirrel!') The squirrel picked itself back up off the ground and ran off.


2010 draft. You can press your main action finger over the image and proceed to click to see a larger resolution.

This is a scan of an old sketch which I found amidst a mess of files. I hadn't named any of these but will do so right now.
The first panel is 'Fat naked Beer-gut man Enjoys a Beer on his Lawn chair.' It's not a very imaginative title but gets straight to the beef of things and does not cut around the corners.
The second image is 'Dock Yawner Freezes in Ignorance on Doofus Island.' The name Dock Yawner came about for a fake band called 'Dock Yawner & The Brain Eating Amoebas.' There was another fright-story through the news somewhere about brain-eating something-or-the-other and I couldn't resist to spoof the ridiculous fear compulsions. Doofus Island was some term I'd been meaning to do something with.. now maybe something can evolve from that... Dock Yawner was on a treatment plan for pharmaceutical research along with a group of others who were shipped to an evacuated study island.
The aftermath of the placebos went awry when the planets aligned with STELLA, the mutated turnover from the donut galaxy. Ancient CODS and mischevious amoebas were disrupted from their tranquil rest at the bottom of the waters and infiltrated the island. Their main appetite was BRAINS. See more in "Dock Yawner..." Ehh, that idea will never work.
The third frame is a classic. "I didn't use floss so I'll use my fingernail instead" demonstrates the mid-air flight of food leftovers being dislodged from the crevices of subject A's teeth. Subject B, meanwhile, is frozen in a moment of just realizing what is about to happen.
The following but absent scene would be titled "Restaurant Patron gets his Ass Handed To Him after His Hygienic Disregard Fails In Kindliness.'
This Fourth column already has a title. "No 2nd Prayer" showcases a heated battle of passion which may end in a whimsical mergance of the most epic and crudely detailed pension of lovemaking ever documented or a bloody all out gore-hound, over the top acting fight to the death.
The Fifth and final column "I may have pissed in your g'damn water fountain for all you know" shows the udd(/tt)er horror that natural, human nudity can initiate in a stranger's eyes.

Shapes of circles and boxes, organic symbols

2011-10-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

Parad


Nesting Roost On Rescrial

Nesting Roost On Rescrial

Details

10/2011.

The interpretation of these symbols and images that come from altering photographs and balancing/mirroring the patterns result in very interesting similarities to old Sumerian stories and mythos of later cultures. (Often, cycled on and on through different characters or subtext to meet the current belief structures of the current culture.)
Creating an image in which you can to look at and study within an uninterrupted moment is a timeless way to depict story creations and viewpoints of 'good' or 'evil' depending on the interaction of the viewer and his/her personal reflections. Though even further than that often indoctrinated distinction from 'good' and 'evil' are the inner workings of sacred image that are found ever present in an organic approach.

What really interests me is how the current state of media equipment, such as being able to take a photograph comprised of natural surroundings and then digitally mirroring itself, can continue this tradition of symbolic gesture. It is as if old ways of generating or birthing these stories and organic symbols will always be available even by means of a digital interaction.The ability to access these trains of thoughts want to spill and grow on through like through those cracks of concrete wild life and growth still come forth not as a re-action but as an unstoppable approach to always return to the beginning. This would be my only time to apply the saying 'the circle takes the square' to a new meaning, whereas the curve overflows the fragment.

I found that the geometry of city structures do not apply as well to this ushering of imaginative shape. The fragments and rigid sharpness of a city structure does not give as much to reflect upon when multiplied or mirrored, which in a sense shows the results of the stagnation and repressed feeling seemingly overflowing in places surrounded in urban symbol structures. Walls.

Currently I see it this way: The fragmented placement of what we now refer to as urban or city environments does not seem to follow the tradition of shape that the more natural and abundance-oriented civilizations were comprised of.

Boxes upon boxes upon boxes are formed, aside from the matriarchal buildings which house the hierarchy rather than the common public, where the games of participation take place or even the logo/s which enact older forms of symbol but only to pursue the act of expanding and building more walls than encouraging creative and natural interpretation.
The expressions which offer a higher encounter of creativity and outspoken widespread individualistically such as street art, which can when correctly done (being free expression and character, not just tits and dicks!) serve as a revival of wall art or serve similar to hieroglyphics and communication through and on the grey areas. Though these acts are seen as rebellious and are shunned as they challenge the boxes and fragmented thoughts, their shapes are often flowing and defiant of the square and flat composure. Much of what seems and comes along as natural and archaic being categorized as defiant is a discussion in itself. The boxes are the symbolic form held overshadowed by tall, grey, lifeless and flat structures.

Chess became sterilized into a game of checkers when an intimate approach of understanding needed to be quickened as abundance was stripped away. The same statement can be applied to tools of intuition and divinity replacing a more soulful desire into objectives of money management and playing cards.

The reflection of these symbols are more than interesting in the ways they can approach the human mind and how we respond to such things. Through dream, shamanic visions, pure f'in' accident, ancient ways, alchemy or even through the technologies we have available today, the mythos and symbols very similar to some of the first stories of known human experience still seem to continue regenerating to those who have the time or an abundance of it to notice and reflect.
The ability to interpret and garner stories and ideas from the shapes offered by natural environment seems much more effective just as the sounds and other senses offer a more abundant mindset.
Think of the cycle and smoothness of sound in a natural area in comparison to the jagged and int-eruptive sounds of an industrial environment.
Though to some they may just as well be squiggles and lines, in these kinds of images.. It is all about how you wish to perceive it just as with anything else but I thought I would exercise some insights to go along with these and possibly enact other to find stories and insights into shape, which is to delve inside of your own belief structures and see them as more than walls.

'We handle recessions quite well' drafts

2011-10-08T14:04:00.000-07:00

reactionary garble.

These are photographs of the 'We Handle Recessions Quite Well' explosion of ink and characters. One of the replications of these characters was posted a short while ago in which they were hand drawn onto grip tape but these came beforehand. Carrying, or more-or-less bending and slamming the paperboard, around along it's process of gambling to further it's design proved that the wear-and-tear of environment only added to the construction of this.
The first image is on trace paper as it was intended to be wettened down then I was going to use the colors of a background object seeping through to fill in the image over the line work. Though instead I did a pressing onto the poster board and just went on from there but all of that is rather boring to hear about.

Rainfall and bus-air started to stick to the front so it seems more often than not that even some of the visualizations I wish to keep clean can't even escape that messy feeling of an all fuckedupedness of ink warfare. The front may have even been spat on after the acceptance that it would be neither clean nor sleek but that is okay as it's proving hard to find a certain brand of pens I used to stock around which were great for dragging your thumb over directly after applying ink to create a smear of blur. Flemming on the base of the design will prove effective enough in the meantime.

If I needed or thought that I needed a birth certificate to certify the trivial information that I am an alive and functioning human being who has, in fact. been birthed by a living creature and now living-as-a-living-creature then this wouldn't be referred to as 'reactionary garble.' Despite that, the frustrations of living inside of one enormous car-insurance company that replaces pinball machines with atm readers still inspires the ability to sketch renditions of nude, frothing, sane, irrational caricatures. Without that it would probably just be some sort of boring painting of fruit.
I would however love to design a pinball machine.

Perching on a cloth-bite slide

2011-10-02T00:42:00.000-07:00


Perching On A Cloth-Bite Slide

The ENTER button is broken. Beware of the 'Submission' button.

E. Blurbo Scrubbo, A wretched draft.

Searching for nostaglia and unfinished sentences. Harpooning loan-sharks and feasting off the strange fillets.
Who needs human-tracing when androids are desirable[.]
Tired faces, souls of mischief, coupon ladies in triangular patterned blouses found in zig-zagging lines leading to self-checkout.

Grumpy Tuesday photo Splices

2011-09-20T10:10:00.000-07:00

An unnecessary capital S.

Walk

L-R-A-N-E

N-R-T-H

Father Of The Rails

2011-09-15T07:57:00.000-07:00


Father Of The Rails (Click for larger or go to the gallery)

The inexplicable surrender of time and place.
The father of the rails awaits your path

holding sardonic wizardry and nifty spice racks.
All he seeks in return are his long-lost silver thimbles
..If only he could move to find them.

A modern day sphinx for the jubilant wanderer, The Father Of The Rails is a content guardian of wisdom except only when his face is stepped on by the gummed underside of a tar laden sneaker. To continue onward you must answer his riddles of purely trivial nonsense. Sometimes he whistles a melodic serenade to ants or centipedes so they crawl into his mouth so he can eat. He has been prevalent in sightings since the age of public payphones and streetlight sneakers.

Paige's Dragonfly

2011-08-20T08:07:00.000-07:00

Mauling List III

2011-08-08T14:15:00.000-07:00

This is a copied text of the Mauling List newsletter. It is corporate muck and pure spam. (Images attached in this special edition!)

After one year of collecting/editing photo, video and audio
Paiges Dragonfly is now finished.
Watch it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ySXefGZUJ0

http://www.archive.org/details/MaulingListIii
This link is an alternative in case you want to download some of the images in higher quality or if your email box is too fattened to hold the attached files.

(INSERT Mind-Sale Non-chewable bubble gum advertisement here!)

01:Mauling List Volume One- Snippets of upcoming albums and audio that goes to stories I am working on. 16:06
02:The Devil's Junk Mail- The unpolished version using three banjo layers tuned to a dulcimer, with four or five vocal layers. Also, A tambourine! Sardonic Macabre. A skeleton tattoo on a college hipster. A video of a horned demon handing out bills will turn up someday.

Mauling List Vol III:
Stomach worms: Western Civilization is a can of car insurance. It can be an ocean of wonder, too, you know.
Featuring music and video from almost a dozen projects, all run on the scientifically proven Zero Dollar Budget technology.

These videos connect to Paige in symbol and subject.
Levin Stone II http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqMaLMJSoDs an update with revise music and images.
Half Of It http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3jwzjuONSY
and this has nothing to do with any of the above videos:
Falling Fat Naked Ladies http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MPU-Y5__Ck

The MIND SALE motion picture is now being added to in excitingly unconventional manner.

Some of the music you heard on the sampler contains albums for full download here http://leemonster.zxq.net/mp3s.html

The Pocket Moths sampler CD can be downloaded here:
http://www.archive.org/details/PocketMoths

I'll send out free copies and a discography of these when they are all caught up on and completed.. especially if some of you have, stamps maybe? And some DVDs.

If you wish to be deleted from this mauling list, take wall plug and 'pull'.

Oops I'm risking backlash

2011-08-08T14:11:00.000-07:00

The post that was never finished but posted anyway.

So many people try to save America. Can't you find something better to do with your time like criticizing others who are trying to save entire countries?
Warning: The proceeding information is all complete fact and not opinion
America is a company, you are it's little worker bee.. Except bees have stingers, our defenses have been minimized to cardboard signs with generic pleas to be allowed a Novocain numbness in a recess- session. We have no stingers... that we know of.

We Handle Recessions Quite Well

"A cheaper oil change IS the cataclysm for a revolution"

It's easier to put words into little metaphorical poems rather than speaking bluntly or in terms you may disagree with or even regret later on.. To risk later being wrong and to actually formulate an opinion, loved or hated, is one of those cute keys of freedom that 'being an american, glorified and proud' has been pussyfooted and shaken loose out of our practice. A certain inability to put yourself in the risk of being on the shit-list of common opinion is rolled tightly in reasoning knowing that a disadvantage of getting closer to that CHEESE in the rat race might abruptly be cut short. Cheese... cut... shit, that sentence should at least make it into the Ny Journal if it were to be fragmented into an incomplete, face-book compatible catch phrase.

Should I be in greatest debt to you
for this is nothing but a looney bin without white walls
wrist cuffs with cycling metronomes,
Expectations that might mug a nun for good credit.

"...enough..."

I see cardboard signs of nascar drivers that ring the epitome of a consumer culture. A cheaper oil change IS the cataclysm for a revolution, I don't argue with that at all but... An opinion-less shit grinning Jeff Gordon who not unlike service fighters can be proud to wear company logos and garner no act of individualism whatsoever... That just personally make me feel a bit uneasy. Even queasy.

Despite all of that I am going to make it much less than well known but well known enough that I am offering my own brand of car insurance. I kept trying and thinking and comparing formulas. Checking in with my scientist buddies, who have degrees in science, which means they know what is going on, we came up with some stunning results (which are not at all going to be discussed here because as they are involved with higher degrees of science, it isn't Joeseph Anybody or Carrol Whatshername that could 'get' these breaking discoveries.)
I saw the divisions of people all wanting to be spared the suffering of what is a 'get rich quick salvation' or the escape-hole luck of finding a winning lottery ticket: Two of the only ways to get out of living a life of bleeding profusely on the inside with 'get-along' smiles.
The answer did not come through abolishing taxation or creating a new flag with zig-zagged stripes and smiley faced stars. I looked around and saw what everybody wanted... They had wanted car insurance.

Do you feel inhumane trying to usher humanity into human-kind?

Levin Stone II

2011-08-06T08:49:00.000-07:00

'Full view' set on highest-quality for the best results.

Levin Stone II: A revisit to the first Levin.
I corrected some of the doofy areas of imagery and added in much more over the extended audio of the Levin Stone video. [View old video and write-up] Electric Lines [Soil Finn/myself] worked as the audio and the images were photographs as well as a couple of video pieces tied together in certain frames that I captured in Taughannock falls. This connects to other videos as well with symbolic gestures as the focus. (Half Of It, Talisman and Paige's Dragonfly are the current pieces in this project that can be taken as individual videos or as one whole grouping.) I'm very exhausted from running around, missing buses, getting drenched in the rain and such all to get reliable internet connections to try to share these. Those are all stories for another day. Running around with a tambourine in a backpack makes time less of a hassle and each step more of a metronome
The area of the video with the crows was an idea I had tampered with using a chroma key to get the white the hell out of the photograph and then using two video tracks of the photo I scrolled each in opposite directions. The photograph used was one I took of an amazing amount of crows gathering in front of a violet sky in the 'moose days' of my quaint damn existence I'll post that photograph up later if anybody actually reads this thing or reminds me. Thanks to the couple of people that said nice things about the video. I'm trying to fill up an hour of visuals to tie these all together. Just when you think it's all finalized, the creative force clings on even tighter. I'm sure a re-re-edit will occur in the future.I love and hate the internet so much.
Each direction is swarmed with a new idea and it's frustrating as hell and infuriating but also beautiful and damn rewarding when all efforts are transferred from ideas to something that can be experienced through human-suit senses.
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Here to captivate the attention span. Here to captivate the attention span. Complete sentence. Complete sentence.
Advertisement.
What else? Paige's Dragonfly is FINALLY finished. And I really do not like blogging or cells, I'm thinking maybe I'll just continue on paper and then scan these entries in. It feels like I'm typing strictly for all those who are between moments of looking up porn on the internet or the tiny few key-wording 'psychedelic waterfall images.' Yikes.
This post will say that it is going to be edited in the future but really it won't be fine tuned at all because I'll lose interest in it or forget writing this very statement. I'll update this soon.
Coming soon: Paige's Dragonfly, Why NOT to fix the economy, A mythos in song called 'The Devil's Junkmail," and an interview with a short-story antagonist who hands dead rats through his ear holes and runs for congress.

Bumper Sticker: All Our Babies

2011-07-30T02:02:00.000-07:00

Mind Sale 08 MS Brain Bloat

2011-07-27T19:51:00.000-07:00

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and fall out of a tree."

All aboard the grand daddy of SEXY advertising. STUNNING new technologies have been just NOW been discovered in the field of media consumerism. YOU can get IN on this ACTION NOW before prices rise. Think UPC beach parties with a tall SWEATY glass of MIND SALE beer. Avian flu aviation ads from Avon with autistic effects in an amazing audio car systems. Bitchin' cars! Fast cars!
(Please remember to continue watching these in the correct order for FULL effects to work.And put on your 3D glasses)
Brought to you by Mind Sale Non-Chewable bubble gum. 'Just look for the picture of a goat.'

Mind Sale 07 Bilbiography From Heck

2011-07-22T02:00:00.000-07:00

*Coming Soon*
A three hour audio opera about a killer Onion! So far, 3% finished, but I assure you, It will be a thriller!
Preview: 'There are rumors of a venomous, steroid-pumped 600 pound Onion that has been released into the wild. It's said to have a wildly rampant appetite for the taste of stock-brokers!' [Images coming soon.]

[A Mind Sale Take on the last post]
What kind of skippy-dippy bullshit is this!? Positive thinking and sure-luck non-worry?
Alien to this, must be crushed! Paranoia freefall, buy Mind Sale stocks and don't listen to any of that kind of 'live in the moment' crap. We are AT WAR! In the trenches, grip your UPC Tightly!
And now, continuing the MIND SALE video series:

Listen to the story, The story of a man, The story of a man writing a story, The story of a man writing a story of a man, The story of a man writing a story of a man writing a story of a man writing a story.
Don't forget to watch all of these in order so the brain-melting radiation signals embed into you at a quicker pace.

Signal Interference!

2011-07-20T02:01:00.000-07:00

Magic minds, The Earth Ride, True believers in thinking a path out of restrictive ways. A wonderful madness of loves. Souls break out of amnesia. Have FUN in this very breath. What a sonic force in this great pinball machine. I thank this illusion for every moment, even those damn nasty rotten ones of the past. Magic minds, The Earth Ride, True believers in thinking a path out of restrictive ways. A wonderful madness of loves. Souls break out of amnesia.

Mind Sale 06 For Forty Four Fours

2011-07-17T19:49:00.000-07:00

For Forty Four Fours
Surplus decoration, tax fashion tips and brain lust on demand! Don't forget to watch them all in order! Or bad omens will haunt you financially in a debt-nation with stale cola!
Consumer markets,Consumer markets,Consumer markets.
How to connect to your Heart with MIND SALE pocketbook guides and romance novels featuring Tax Season Love Bombs and Bonding With Pharmaceutical Deterioration: The Chemical Lovechild Of Malted Media Brain.
Coming up soon: Spoken word thought blowouts

Mind Sale 05 I Cant Believe I believed I'd Not Believe Anything

2011-07-14T00:32:00.000-07:00

I Can't Believe I believed I'd Not Believe Anything

Don't forget to watch them all in ORDER. 'Else the cheeseburgers don't go directly through your blood stream.
I can't believe I believed I'd not Believe Anything!
Coffee Mugs ignite the revolutions. Ignorance is a poorly ported porcelain mug to hold your coffee and god bless this land let us never forget that!

IMPORTANT.

Stop what you're doing right now and read this!
(Even if what YOU are doing RIGHT now is reading this blog. STOP and start re-reading because this is so important. (Advertising technique #20-three6))

If you have ever felt like your life was lacking something
or if hard times have ever come your way, Usually you think to
go to the root of the problem or try to better yourself through
strength and endurace.
'Hang in there' some people will say to you.
A little known secret is that all of that is completely false. You don't
need self-improvement or a gradual grasping of positivity to get you
through your hardships.
All you really need is a MIND SALE coffee mug™

With a porcelain frame handle and hollowed cup this coffee mug
is unlike any you will ever drink from in your entire life. The mere
act of holding it will make you feel more beautiful than you had ever
imagined yourself before and at only $10,000 dollars each you can
afford one for each member of your family. Under the christmas tree
or in the birthday box, if you hadn't wrapped up a MIND SALE
coffee mug™ as a gift you should feel completely ashamed because you'd
be depriving your loved ones of one of the most spectacular gifts the
world has seen.
"I was thinking of getting my husband a car for our 15th year anniversary but
instead I bought him a MIND SALE 'You Need Values' Coffee Mug™
Ever since, the love we shared has tripled in stamina and we've been happy
and lucky as ever."-Debbie D.

Wow, Debbie, amazing! Though she isn't the only one whose life has changed after buying a
MIND SALE Coffee Mug™. The success rate of humans jumped through nearly the 90th
percentile once hordes of consumers starting buying our drink-holding miracles.
Why shouldn't it be you?

Price $10,000 each [Free S+H with the purchase of two or more]

Mind Sale 04 Hair In The Heart Of It All

2011-07-14T00:21:00.000-07:00

A full moon glows over the hill, a splinter in my back paw.. Well, a thorn stuck in a corn on my big toe facing the outside. I run up the hills with a shoddy triple-A fueled flashlight and shovel in hand towards the howling roars of a large group of coyotes, wondering if that sound of vicious unison is them gnawing on my cats or not.
Batteries are well proven to be shit in a scarcity -driven economy, The knife was given to me as a birthday gift by a high-school girlfriend. It was an eerie night to begin with but the generic composition of bright lit moons and coyote howls made me beg for the 'cat's meow.' Now all I can do is wait, but who wants to hear about that kind of story anyhow? There's a MIND-SALE to ease any ill-nurtured vulnerabilities.

Hair In The Heart Of It All can be heard playing all along the heartland of vendor-packed expressways through America, which is The World. This grammy nonominated song is performed by the up and coming Cellulite Aerola & The Cosmic Muff. It's delivery in talent and innovation made it an obvious recognition of *MUST HAVE IT* within the high government media ranks of the Mind Sale selection committee.

The videos later in the series become less-obvious in weak-editing as raging button mashing becomes fine intricate inter-dimensional splicing. Though no excuses will be given for how anything turned out, not in a world where the cookiemonster is said to be diminished or bumper stickers tell me about how BAD bumper stickers are,no.

Mind Sale 03 BIG DEAL

2011-07-13T08:24:00.000-07:00

The incoming shift in consciousness wants you to BUY A NEW CAR!
Watch the mind sale in sequential order for all the easter egg subliminals to register correctly!
This program is brought to you by open fields!
Coming soon, SHOE STORES!

I'll now ride my bicycle all the way into town and wait in the big smelly line to use computers at the public library to upload more. Soon when these are all done I'll hop on over to the public access station and try to get them aired, not that they aren't in your subconscious already because of the ultra sophisticated DNA heat radar missiles a scientist buddy helped me weave into these. (I'm finishing up the middle weight of these just as some are released out so I can force-motivate myself to get them done.. Amidst the madness of so many other things being worked on for creativity's sake.) If anybody has eight extra arms to donate that would be great! These six I'm working with are starting to twitch and discombobulate.

Do you feel like this today?

2011-07-12T00:06:00.000-07:00

I did, but tomorrow will be better.
The MIND SALE will continue (See it on CBS!) then I'll continue to wonder just why I am keeping a blog.

Mind Sale 02 Thats Not Mud Youre Stepping In

2011-07-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

<br>b
This is the second video from the Mind Sale Motion Picture, hence the '02' and 'Mind Sale' listed before it in the title! Be sure to watch the rest (In order) or else some of the illuminati marketing subliminals will not register in your subconscious as well.
Dedicated to paying workers in debt, and stale milk.
'The MIND SALE' does not 'cut out' the middle man. The MIND SALE cuts the middle man until the point that the middle man does not exist!'
'Wow, with a deal like that, who could say no? It's revolutionary!'
Every MIND SALE comes with a free removable coaster and portable self-destruction mechanism. You can find us on facebook.. For eternity!
Stay tuned for BIG DEALS and heavily detailed instructions on how to think for yourself while judging others.

MIND SALE 01 Free Debt

2011-07-08T13:03:00.000-07:00

Ideas are more powerful than bullets. Dehydration is more powerful than ideas.
Drink a MIND SALE energy drink. 'Copywriting slogans since generations were marketable'

MIND SALE 01:Free Debt
Towns are places to buy things. This is the first video from the Mind Sale Motion Picture. Be sure to watch the rest (In order) or else some of the illuminati marketing subliminals will not register in your subconscious as well.
Based on basing things off books. For patriots everywhere.

(Note:This was originally going to be a post about a baby Raccoon I had met amidst the morning along a roadside between TWO rivalry company oil change advertising signs. The image uploader failed to work correctly so instead comes a premature release of the MIND SALE motion picture.)
The next in this series will be uploaded soon. Collect them all and get free airline tickets plus the chance to ride in the same elevator as a mystery famous person!*
(Your Smart Phone must have an IQ higher than 90 to enter)

Falling Fat Naked Ladies

2011-07-08T11:37:00.000-07:00

People say they have weird dreams all of the time but isn't that what they're supposed to be, weird? They're seen as weird because they stretch limitations and surpass the lines that our perceptions widdled together, right? That really only leads me to believe that this space we agree as reality is weird, not that it isn't still a dream. Somehow a thought like that will probably just come off as weird though. 'Hide it and roll the safe road to the Coffee protest!' a 10K Guru would advise.

ATTENTION:
The project known as America has been pulled. Any further participation within it is a spoiled effort. This could have been stated before any declarations or presidents, but please, please... less limitation and stop putting so many signs up.

Other: This..

Falling Fat Naked Ladies
"The Unofficial Les Monstrelli video BY Les Monstrelli from the Grammy nonnominated full length "I took off my shoes and walked off the planet"
Blame The Cat Productions, 7/2011."

VERY sleepy but recently gifted with magical connections and a wide amount of photographs to share. (Edited Note: Full sentences must be obliterated from the internet! The shortening tweeting attention span will overcome the need for full thoughts!)
"You have 2 minutes remaining on the library computer. Click and drag to move."

[This post has been edited from the Recluse wooden computer,after retreating from the eerie public library.]

Coming up soon: The Mind Sale motion picture show.
A passing thought: Feed the architects of hierarchy LSD and watch and see if they paint the white house, capitols and all the giant breast and dick monuments in bright polka dots. It's all a passing thought, but, feed people food and not poison and... well, figure out the rest.
Fact: There is no DOOM button. People that use people don't kill the people they're using or else they won't have anybody to use and will have to think, create and manifest debts all on their own.
Fact: 100% of all stated facts will at one point be proven fraudulent.

Stepping Back

2011-05-30T18:45:00.000-07:00

'Katherine Blowtorch'

You know all the gestures of proper, accordingly behaviors:

Weathers actin' like the weather. How bout that weather!?
"The weather was not acting like itself at all until I realized I was just staring at a wall."
-Tony Guykamuyni
The only worse thing is talking about people who don't stop talking about the weather or this, again:

Don't do anything somebody who tells you

"Don't do what I would do" would do.

Here is a feline, some wings, and a beak.

Bless the sneezeless, God help the stagnant.

Offer love to the world, watch the STRANGE stares pile up.

I didn't know what it was at first. The trails were dark and hidden causing each blind step up the shale stone pathways to resemble an inebriated half-with-it. The glare of the red hued street lights were enough to cause a blinding distraction reflected upon each mud puddle and when they disappeared further along the path the trails felt like they grew skinnier and skinner, enough of a threat to push you directly into the stream to the right.

Stepping back at a quick jolt, I approached 'Soil Finn' who was still coming up the trail from the blind staircase.

Was it alive, was it dead? Was it real or just an illusion? What in the hell was the thing that I witnessed laying in the middle of the trail up ahead?

A piece of dead wood fallen from the previous nights mayhem of storms drifted from the steep hill banks to the east? A maimed or lifeless homeless man amidst the trails? I only got a quick glimpse before darting backwards to be sure not to wake it if it were alive or to be killed by it if it were dangerous. Actually, it's shape looked more as of a wild boar: gigantic and sprawled out on the cold shale stone stream's pathway. "There's something up there, I don't know what in the hell it is."

An attempt to communicate with this thing
"Hey"

"sssssssssssss"

It made a hiss noise.. A venomous wild boar??

A true story:

This is how it goes, watch what happens: I'll leave the camera in a car and we'll go out into the unexpected. Something amazing will happen, Or something as memorable as you may really want it to be.

Directions lead you to new experiences so long as the destination you're on isn't something totally familiar or safe. So we chose the path of the waterfall trail way or moreso landed up walking on it per chance of absolute guess. Late night and early morning, either of us are quite bad at time-tracking, but we knew what we saw and it wasn't a damned warthog or boar.

The sssssss was not a hiss but a shhhhhhh. They didn't want us to see them. I can now see why I thought it was a tangled up boar or a fallen piece of deadwood but it was really two lovers tangled up bareassed naked and already in penetration, missionary, with the glum light of the night glowing off their skin.

I supposed pulling out would have lost some sort of safe guard for them but somehow my friend and I both walked through. There were three fences we had to sneak by that night along the trail. Two of them consisted of wire, one was human flesh.

"Hey, I can admire that" was something similar to what I might have said as I passed them by though the words are of flimsy remembrance just as the details of sight when walking up the blinded stairways in the dark stumble earlier along the path. I suppose I had said it to avoid any awkwardness that would have otherwise approached the moment, So I figured a mild set of words to show my support for their risk would be enough. Also, At least I didn't ask "How are you?" S. Finn made his own comments apparently as he was the second to pass, speaking of them as being poetry or saying something of a probable high comfort to their publicized situation. There will be no weather report but it was apparently warm enough for bare-assed affectionates to risk the chance of strangers walking by.

Also,in a not so particular completely similar affair, kittens:

On that note I'm jumping off of Planet Earth for a while.

Highest 'wee-ooos' for S.C,S.F,J.F&T.C.

90 Steps To Freedom

2011-05-25T01:28:00.000-07:00

How to help free yourself in 90 easy steps

or How To Be A Flying Lotus Plant:

°Take your most sacred, heart-held ideas and say 'Nope!'
This might sound harsh, but aren't most practices in quick solutions for self-improvement?

°Don't!

°Eradicate your appearance to the most slagliness state of despicable conveyance. If you are able to confidently attempt to or even successfully woo and interest a suspect lover while shed of any self-identification traits or perception of 'style' you have just ceased a pattern of traditional-rutting practice! Give yourself a pat on the shoulder.

°Care not of traditional rutting practice! Take ideas of conventional sexual relation and look at it within a new light. Compare the acts of 'getting off' to the essence of 'sharing connection' and take notes on the majority of human interaction. Ask yourself, without bitter tone but with valid interest, "How many people on Planet Earth just want to get off!?"
You may need to pick up a pocket notebook and trust-able pen for this step.. Mere mental notes may be swayed and jotting down specific details of sexual identification and contact observations will be important.
Become the observer and not the 'do'er.'
Be the shadow, flying lotus plant, be wise! Sit from environment to environment and compare the actions of others to yourself.
If by the end of your notebook you do not see yourself in any of your own studies, you have not been paying enough perception. (Paying is the key! Pay to pray! Prey to pay!)You might see yourself in one of the interactions you observe saying 'That was me, at one time, trying to get laid with that casual, crappy banter!'
Observe conversation tactics between others and view the rates of possible celibacy compared to 'Man, I hope I get laid tonight.' The perspective of the one to the opposite sex just might initiate you into an amazement of 'Holy damn, now I see why so many ladies want to chainsaw castrate men.. why have blue-balled sport fuckers ruined human relations with the opposite sex for me!?" This applies for both sexes, as well, as well as hermos, bat-folk and so on.
Please, I dis-advise you from leering beyond bushes and into a window.. The sexual interaction I speak of observing is the mental and social behavior seen in commonplace and general communication.

(Note: If Some of this strays from the specific tips on how to free yourself and turns into a trickle-down- effect, it is noted that you should create your own list on how to free humanity and then spot yourself going off on a rant.(This is step eight!) Pick on your character response immediately afterward to enter the 'free yourself bonus round.' If you are able to work this correctly, you will merge the fool with the observer and win a mile-gain of escalator transportation over the last six steps, which will not matter at all.(This is important!))

Master the timing of bird shit impact. Control the reactions of terror and awe.

The aggravation sentimental's':
°Be aware of the rhythms of response attached to your daily character. Certain responses can form into patterns. Patterns can turn into sicknesses or spastic habits. Think of children scolded for delving into imagination or the unlimited dream and being turned inside out by limitation of anti-wonder.
Please, please count the "God damnits!" for each and every toe-stub or head-collision around you, including your own. When observing this you will automatically notice the ritualistic response.
A higher-rate insufficiency or perhaps disaster may escalate into a "Jesus Christ!" or "Exploitive Deletive! (Not literally) but if you can master your very own accidents into a "Good Groucho!" or "Holy Krishna!" you are ultimately re-programming your very own rhythm. This skill will take quite a practice for an awakening flying lotus plant. The wall is not really there but damnit it hurts when I smack straight into it! Mastering this field of reaction and catching yourself responding to many stimuli is one of the most important and time-wasting practices you can participate in.

°Reverse the roles of what you seem to think waste and treasure are. Ask if common knick-knacks are merely time-wasting paraphernalia of plastic fertilization. Don't get pissed or aggravated but learn to tap into the jester and reshape the situation. This is where the 'actor' fills the role. A mass-sardonic output may posses you but facing a situation you normally loathe can also put you into the persona of a viewpoint and allow you to understand. You can also try this by getting extremely pissed or aggravated rather than steering clear from it and at this point, the bigger of an ass you feel afterward, depending on how fiery of a volcano you become, the more interesting lessons in humility you will reflect on, Unless you are dense.. Real dense. Is density a waste or treasure!?

°Not yet, NOW!

Rhythm Effect

°This rhythm effect can relate to any scale of reaction from nervous ticks when overwhelmed to psychological responses acted out upon the character as a result from coping to trauma or dissatisfaction. THE WEIRD AND MISGUIDED WILL ALWAYS BECOME HIP AND PLENTIFUL. Do not be sour over this, but ask why commodity needs to be disfigured and bent to make somebody feel a connection of self. Is it because the conformed idea is fragmented? Many suicide girls were initiated into being as a response of the availability of digital cameras becoming more easily accessible. As a result, many professional photographers went back to taking photographs of trees once more.
This may not be that important! But the very example that a list such as this could bend your view into it being a possibility shows a new pattern of rhythm. If you feel conned by this ill-reference and casual bash, a "Holy Groucho!" may be of healing practice.
(Note: The personification of bashing counter-culture within a counter-cultural or a nontraditional unorthodox viewpoint garners a high interest. Biting the back of one's own neck whilst the head is still attached to one's own body will begin the first phase of understanding this cultural phenomenon.(Note:See diagram above for instructions.)

°By the time you get the answer, you already do not care, yet you both knew this as a result before searching and still went through the process of 'going for it.' Flying Lotus Plant, you are entering the wonder of any given a__hole finding the nerve to tell you "It either is or it isn't!" and having the gall to charge you a minutely rate for it. Repeat after... nobody... and "say it either is or it isn't!" and avoid the interest rates.)

The exact reference of this meaning IS....

°Awareness of emotional addiction will manifest a step ladder out of a self-dug slime pit.
Consider your emotional responses as being a roller-coaster ride within an amusement park of consensus reality. Often, expectations of deceit can be churned out.
Have a cheerful conversation with a bill collector! Make their day feel brighter rather than just hanging up (After saying 'No She/He is not here,' of course!)

°Disallow the factor of everybody around being in a categorization of "stranger." Divide that fear of the unknown that is penetrated by imaginative assumptions through news reports and disprove that 'Everyone around sucks or is trying to kill me!' If they do turn out to suck, Just yell "Holy Groucho!' and play the role of another personality when talking to them. See if you can steer a snub into a laughter by making the most sour face in the entire world, or perhaps turn a conversation about the weather into the last time they connected freckles with a ball point pen or had a stretch armstrong catastrophe.

°Be prepared for mass-scorn, but a comfort of free-riding concern of such events is another sure step to freedom!
If they are trying to kill you, well you can't blame me for it now, can you!? Remember, "it either is or it isn't" and a premature yelling of "Holy Groucho" may confuse anybody with ill-intent to say 'hey, man, I'm staying the hell away from this person."

°Delve into your childhood past and find any possible recollections of unfulfilled dreams or even a past expression of joy. Breaking out of a 'lack of growth' is a reverse expression that adulthood has solidified. The missing step of childish curiosity and freedom of disregard,it is as acting as a tadpole amongst the bullfrogs!
Tree-climbing, finger painting, excessive running and a practice of the imagination and limit-bending of mental boundaries are closer to the ways of a wizard than being too embarrassed or attached to a shaped personality to do such things. Keep partaking in this method of approach until you no longer have a job. Then excel from finger painting to agriculture and tell your landlord you no longer exist, and that she/he is speaking to a Flying Lotus Plant.

°Notice any attachments to the material self, be it your very own name or what you describe yourself as when asked to share identity. If rather than expression of the self comes up you pour out ideals of movie favorites or bands, perhaps reshape that reaction by looking within yourself to personal experiences or characteristics to describe personality. You can tweak your personification of self by acknowledging how many traits you ensure are identity are merely only reactions of life-decisions or previous patterns but if you start to taste the back of your own neck you yet are unable to satisfyingly claim "Holy Groucho!" then you are trying too hard to be a lotus plant. Other results of over-trying may include god-honest serious lists of how to become free, in a concrete manner or the act of reading and completely believing detailed steps on how to become free*. Luckily, these are both completely foreign to what you are now learning**.

*Author's note-(This is one asterisk.)
**Author's Note-(These are two asterisks.)

°If you can shed identification from your sheet-self (identification, badge number, s.s.,etc) you might find a broader tip-toe to 'certified free!' (steps 73-81) or perhaps go mad in going cold-turkey on identification reliability (steps 78-88) or technological addiction... Or would not be reading up to this point at all unless thinking 'Madness, madness!!'(steps 12-77) but if you say 'Holy Groucho, this folk is mad rather than 'Holy Jesus, This folk is mad!' your flying lotus-pod may be blossoming. Give yourself a pat on the shoulder and ask why a pat on the shoulder is an expression of trivial encouragement.(Note:!!!!!!)

°The universe is your friend, Unless you are your own enemy!

Step one is the same as step 90/Step 1 is the same as step ninety.

Special Tip! Save $ on Wheaties:
Go to any farm, get a bale of hay... Add vanilla frosting. You saved money and now you also have taste control.

In closing, The Ancient Chinese Takeout wisdom of Mr. Tony Guykamuyni says it best:

Passage 406 (Otherwise known as passage four-zero-six)
Translated by Tony G.'s traveling holy soup stand
(A dedicated mystery school of Tony G's teachings.)
One can piss on the shrubs but miss the Angel's garden
out the window of a 13 story building
but the rain will come and the angels won't mind
and for each second you wonder where freedom may be
was a chance you could have experienced an adventure to the fullest.
Be not the wise one to collect guidelines nor the seeker of
"wah wah wah why can't I be the chosen one."
Shit happens, people die from falling coconuts
It is what it is, get your ass from out of that window breeze.

Pocket Moths

2011-05-20T23:44:00.000-07:00

The 'zero dollar budget' projects:

The first track goes best if the CD has been handed to you by a stranger. The last song functions best if hanging upside down out of an abandoned building window.

I insist you that I am not trying to SELL you anything. (Friends could not afford living in a free world so we shaped our own and got fined. It was fine because we didn't pay. We ripped up S.S. Cards and knew human possibility hatched more than breakfast behavior and modest, weather-talk expectations.) Seconded:This is not a product this is not a product this is not a product. Buy my $10,000 coffee mug if you're looking to hook on to a sales pitch.
Pocket Moths archive.org webpage with 'ogg' format available.

01. Pocket Moths (4:35) MP3 8.3 MB
02. Manifest Sampler (8:55) MP3 13.4 MB
03. Through These Cellar
Doors (3:02) MP3 7.3 MB
04. Loving Ghost (Pt 1) (2:23) MP3 4.7 MB
05. Identity Consumption (3:33) MP3 6.7 MB
06. You Shake The Stars (5:24) MP3 9.2 MB
07. Astral Arcade Machine (2:50) MP3 6.2 MB
08. Hasty Levitation (2:20) MP3 4.2 MB
09. She's Chain Smoking
(Grey Puff Version) (3:03) MP3 3.8 MB
10. Electric Lines (3:47) MP3 7.0 MB
11. Isometric Vines (2:49) MP3 7.5 MB
12. A Taste Of Death:
The Infomercial (11:43) MP3 11.7 MB
13. Television Towns
&Rye Bread (1:33) MP3 2.4 MB

I just wanted to say that Grand daughter Emit is out to kill Father Time

and while most people pay anything, as attention cannot be bought,

Father time doesn't put up a fair fight.

So root for the daughter, She'll slice the vines of time.

A write up on the making of Half Of It:

'Half of It' has Soil Finn playing Rhythm guitar on the audio recording. The original opening clip to the video contained the audio sampled as 'brush drums' in the song . Weeds were hacked away as creating a trail to a secluded stream which was cut into the pattern of the song.
The original layer is an improvised song between the two of us in basic form played on 12/14/2010. The magic and fun of being able to form songs so quickly is always at a strong point when we're at an open space with a complete looseness of construct to better help pull idea from. 'It just happens' is the best way to put it and at some moment I would enjoy writing about how wild many of the recording processes take shape when we form music. Sometimes it also gets overwhelming having so much material to work with, too, literally hard drives full of lost files to revisit.
On 02/11/2011 I layered some extra instruments and backing vocals. Somehow that seemed a bit bare still, so the slightness of faint electric leads were topped over the banjo played on the original layer.

The rest of the video fell into place from a collection of footage taken over the years and was feverishly merged together in an attempt to compliment the feeling of surreal lyrics.

It's entertaining to play with the meanings of the words. Luckily,this time there actually are breasts involved, so the project might not fade off into lost space. But unfortunately, the breasts,rods and ovum come only in the views of phallic imagery of interpretation. 'Damn.' Also, the imagery and concepts switch over in to the 'Paige's Dragonfly' video which I am infuriatingly trying to manage the audio for. It's been an endless amount of efforts. (Raving, stark mad efforts among ghetto speaker set ups and dated softwares.) I'd delve into the pinpoints of stress, pride, frustration, curse, joy and exertion of energy & efforts but there are more interesting things to get at than broken microphones, ghetto-makeshift recording setups, endless problems with not being able to bribe or trade ideas for marketing techniques, and how many glitches, errors and ass backwards ways of conducting these creations were initially met with.

Just at the nearing completion of the video, needing to fill the empty spaces in visuals, came the joy of finding the perfect imagery as a flooded parking lot hosted the presence of a lovely bird who reminds me of a well known ancient creator. Funnily enough, referred to as the Hermit, which damn well alludes to the result of what you become after perusing so many works at once, often it is met with hesitance and disgust of certain results yet later found with an attachment and love. The shape of the feathered being clicked immediately and helped to weave some final pieces of the imagery together.

Here's an original image of what was later tampered with to match the effects of the song.

>Filler space<

Surely there are still a few glitches within the imagery to be revisited and fixed, but maybe the process of having learned these kinds of things from a pirated editing program rather than undergoing classes and trained techniques allows it's own character or style. That is one of the fun things about a self-learning process. Many shortcuts may be missed along the creating procedures but they're approached with more of a free form and curious means of doing things. (Amidst fidgeting around learning how to lean into very many difficult ways of accomplishing edits.) I suppose that is when the weird and abstract take a hold. None of that is in my decision, though, how exactly it can be perceived. When something is released or publicized it is out of the arms of it's maker by that point, free to go it's own direction. The only real guiding force by then, is how many breasts it has or if it will get you lottery bargains. No, if it could mean something to merely one person or is looked at with a curious or open perception then not all is lost.

Culture, planet; it is an amusing world but it's tough to afford expensive costumes in the act of human-kindness. Still, that aging thought of department store remnants growing a single shrub then taking over to become agriculture and plains again is an enduring outlook of positivity. It's easy to be hopeless and pessimistic, but steering a nifty, capable perception mixes playfulness and usually the 'bitch of the path' as in, it's difficult because it is less traveled. You can fathom thought of the ceo who hangs himself in the company's stock room or the nearest nuclear warhead on a let-loose target strike (worry sale/death addiction) or you can cherish the option of coating existence with damn fine colors and "livening life"/Lifen life. Then again, you can do what you'd wish, Awe damn if that isn't one of life's most hidden secrets.

Pocket Moths is: More than you want to read anything about.

Dont Count The Miles

2011-05-17T15:32:00.000-07:00

Continuing on from pt 1, "43 Miles"

A photography series from ~05/2011.

A good opener for the second half of the series.

I thought I saw a cat but it was only a fur
I thought I heard a rumble, it was just a purr
'Swore there was a tower but it was only a brick
Paul wanted polio but he only got sick.

Amidst these photographs I took will be random fragments of thought. Some will have to do with the actual photographs while others will just be amusing crap that will possibly temporarily entertain only myself, which is the beauty and problem with 'blogging' in that you can publicize words that relate nothing whatsoever to the common or infrequent reader. That's been the way I have always felt about newspapers or Sears circulars, or those little self-reminders and I.O.Us that are written on crinkly $1 and $5 dollar bills.

Hey Outside

Soaking sopped wet, this photo was taken as I felt as close as I could to a wet alley cat or gold fish in cotton attire. Still, a moment of enjoyment was to be had yet watching people run full pace beneath the safety of an umbrella from the doors of the book store to their cars 15 ft away made me feel like the biggest joke or the freest from weathered reaction.

A dialogue:
"You know what you need to do Joey?"
"No, What do I need to do?"
"You ought to make sure to never allow anybody to tell you what you need to do or how to do things."
"Well I guess I'm fucked now no matter what choice I make."

Like A Vulture

These vultures live in the cave of a gorge hidden beyond streams past trails that part from the railroad tracks of Recluse Valley. Every morning through afternoon they swoop in unison to find their own treats to devour. I had traffic blasting towards me on a highway bridge-side as taking these photographs with angry commuters barely striking me in preparing a meal for the vultures.

I recorded footage of them as well. Their dinner schedule is nearly always on queue and they never have to leave too far from their gorge home to get fed. Now I ask, who has it better, the vultures or wolves?

Be Late For Everything


Growing Your Bangs Out

You know those commercials where products talk, where products have personalities and characteristic traits? Do you know those? You shouldn't, none of us should, but you probably do. In the sane world, in the sane world, we have products that encompass traits of human behavior. And scientists who want to free the world of dependency and scarcity tactics are called mad.God help us if talking brooms are of the sane rational (or characterized pieces of dirt being picked up by a broom, or a bottle of window cleaner for that manner.) What breed of hysteria is this? Part of me just knows deep down it's a long branch of some absurdest movement, and what a prank it is. We call it the free world. It arrests those who go crazy from expressing their discontent with living amongst the mad. When I say 'we' not only am I not speaking French but I also mean 'We' and in 'They' and any other raving fevered broad generalization. When the vacuum bag starts having full on conversations with you I think it's safe to say you've been company-bitten.

Flashy Outreach

Gnack

40th Wonder Of The World

Tripping Down The Stares

When you are the only human out roaming about, everything else can feel so much more alive. You can actually stop and think about what happened in the places you stand at and experience without being pushed or pressured to move along the path to 'get where you are going.' It's a beautiful feeling. Owls feel it. I'm not sure if chimney sweepers do or not. Probably not.

5 AM

The day sky starts to slip out of the covers, The sun gets out of bed from the moon but there is no coffee, so it goes out to the store. It's been all day. he gets back to his wife.. by that time it isn't light out any more. (Don't try to think that one out, I haven't.)

Restrictive Conversation

Using intimate objects and their placement to pursue the viewer into an imaginative interpretation. Much like talking vacuum cleaner bags.

JOIN us!

A poem:

The darlin' who gleefully pees in the breeze

need not care about phrases like 'it's the bees knees'

but instead smokes to where a small walk ignites a weeze

Then attempts to use a wine glass to bottle the seas.

An argument ensues over all the false and trues

Walking naked to check the mail regarded as truly rude

But clothes hide nudity and sway fashion through urge to screw

So fornication is divided to love, creation and getting used.

A bird on the shoulder is brave if the shoulder owner likes chicken

The bird sings "Bob" in the mornings as the fog thickens

A small child is brave if given a piggy back ride by a cannibal

but eating your toe-headed young is an act that is truly stricken

There's a bathtub in the boat in an ocean with giant soap fish..(To be continued..)

"The Day Something Happened"

On a serious note was something written written rather jokingly.

But on a much more serious note, albeit almost forgotten, Here is the long non-awaited video for "Cat Opera"

If anybody wants to donate hard drives or blank DVDs I'll ship you prints and make you a grilled cheese sand which. Space is running thin."Too many people ask for things." "I agree, I was just kidding."

This is updated but not complete. 'May expand or continue with a pt 3.

43 miles

2011-05-16T20:06:00.000-07:00

Warning: This 'post' will occasionally contain anti-logic used as logic.It is subtly approached in the act of belief that common logic is practiced too assertively and tightly stitched and thus bastardizing the taking of chance. This use of yellow text shows you just how dangerous and nonsensical some of the sense-making will result.

Part One: 43 Miles

Well forty-three miles is not very far at all, but it was a start. It reminded me both of why I began and more importantly, why I should not, tamper with 'blogging.' If this duality is too indecisive; Getting on a bicycle for a two hand-count of hours uncertain of drench-wetness or sleeping arrangements was more thrilling than sitting around attempting to pull interesting observations of theory from the air. The avid avoidance of this bulky, slow processing machine stacked up high, the opportunity for many tales and adventures, which annoyingly funnily enough results in perfectly interesting subject matter to 'blog' about so that A.I. Frito Lays tracking bot links can later search and spam.

Also, too much stagnant time results in things like this:

which is not necessarily a bad thing.

A common absurdity came to being which involved the forced eavesdropping over long bus rides of passengers talking about going to work 'obliterated' and beating the shit out of strangers for fun and acceptance. That's another thing, too. Don't ever think your life is too shitty. Just get on a public bus and don't bring earplugs. You'll start to feel like an enormous dickhead for thinking that your own life is dire straits.

Though, the world is already filled to the brim with cosmic hopping spider xylophone solo albums and the more time spent wading means the river raft is furthering away and away from your traces. That's another thing, too, does the 'blogosphere' really need anymore terms like 'the river raft is furthering away and away from your traces?" What does that even mean?

(Reliable sources of information may tell you this 'may or may not be correct, yet we are all doomed, so buy the advice book!'
Major worries could woe the most unwholesome antagonist of woes but wooing the right one with wander could rid any wrongs that are doom prophecies. Y2K never could keep on schedule.)

There are more important subjects in being a breathing being than thrice dead disney villains or major catastrophe... such as water towers.

None tipped over from what I know, and that is a good thing! Yes, on the day of 05/06/2011 nobody died from falling water tower accidents, and a communal rejoice is in dire need because of this! In fact, it's quite plausible that nobody died or suffered from blimp disasters, therefore nobody was killed in any disasters regarding blimps crashing into and knocking over water towers. (Discontinue interlude)

I removed my body from the bicycle after eight miles into town to find the library doors closing right as I stepped up to the building's entrance. The act of duty was to upload a video I had been finishing up the entire night which inevitably would only result in a fraction of the '(holy) views' in comparison to a youtube video of a drunken frat boy slamming his mound of flesh into a heavy windowsill. But to no avail, that option was halted and not allowed to succeed upon the day and it will have to be a future 'post' with less side tracking for that to be thrown into the pile of electronic data-wading that is the online world.

So I missed a couple of buses, and met a traveling life-trekker amongst the waiting between rookie bus drivers. Coming through from Boston with a sky as the ceiling and heading towards the very town I'd just rode my bike down from, it becomes an inspiring occurrence knowing people are out there with lives not so tightly knitted nor orthodox in leash.

A so/cio-political comparison that may be argued out of value in a monetary state of philosophy:
There are attempts to 'dent' the world, via reaction or -anti-_fill in the blank_
They work battles yet often exert energies of a kind of madness and outrage, such as 'fucking the system,' or 'fucking the _fill in the blank (fucking the blank?)'
Denting the world, via violence or re-action (outrage over bin-blala, protest over the __latest media outrage) can pretty much just suck up energies and distract any creative thought.

Shaping: Shaping as opposed to denting is something that may work out through non-participation. Is this True!? You tell me.. Is it worth trying new things or are we better off on the path of self destruction through expected behavior and mass-non-chance? Are you sitting around reading some lengthy, side-tracked blog rather than finding out!? Am I a galactic ass for saying that!? (answers coming soon in "How to be a free human being by following these easy to remember steps!)
If there is a point, it's that 'shaping' versus 'denting' is a fox compared to a blood-hound being that non-participation is the 'key' whereas chances to actually live and experience DO exist over protesting and asking/pleading a 'system' that appears to own you to give you permission to take care of your own body/mind.
Does that make sense is it closer to fulfillment-rambling?

So, the traveler I met was breezing by in a sway of complete freedom yet chose to give up material leanings.
I hopped onto the last bus out of town after making it to a more reliable stop where I'd actually get picked up. (Previous attempts to get on busses was a success if failing to catch the bus was the plan, which it wasn't. Pro bus drivers wait more than 5 seconds to pick up passengers. Rookies don't.) The bus I did actually make it on is where the forced eavesdropping and life philosophy comparisons took place.. In that, if you have the time to look at the world and ask questions, be grateful that you do, for there are many people that have children they entirely do not even want and jobs they need to get 'fucked up, reaaal fucked up' to deal with having and we're all in debt of one form or another anyway.
A flood of outlook permeated into me in an inescapable note of seeing the world through perception and a trail of decisions. It's often like those old practices where I would compare my world to the outside world, often finding a sit-down and observe plan taking place in a shopping mall or trying to take news headlines seriously. This test and lesson was different, though, because I was within the confines of a moving bus.

I took my body and bicycle off from the bus, the final bus of that night, and the condensation of modern life struggle blew out into the air and faded away.

Dancing heifers (okay, older than heifers) of Tire Farm Hill

The sun was tipping the hill and I chose the 'long way' past the farm hills. There was a smell of cow shit that was actually refreshing compared to any ghastly perfume or vapid factory toxic. Grinning at the cows on the ridge of the steep road hill I yelled "MOO! MOO!" and they waltzed up en unison to me from beyond their fence, and danced.. Yes, danced, in their own way and responded: Moo! MOO! After having all that said, the peddling continued past farm lands and farming machinery unto the meeting of interstate highways and signs for bug-zapping agencies.

These notes were made upon the bike ride:
-Mattress Mania has soggy mattresses outside the outlet store, Shut down for years.
-Get on bike. Teetering milk crate, Worldly squeak, Bleeding face.
-Cows chase & Moo. I Moo, too.
-Grinning at passengers.
-Headlight, brainflash, Blinding lights.
-Over exert energy. Chew gum. Water,water!

The photos aren't the best, but show the slopes of country roads.

Approaching the dancing cows

Pictures of sun rays through abstract clouds mean slogans of enlightenment are nearing closer.

Tony Guykamuyni once said "I would rather eat a soggy half-moon cookie, than have no half moon cookie at all." This ancient Chinese-takeout wisdom led me to believe that 'I would rather chance myself into a shitty miserable situation than to play safely into expectation.' That said, Anybody could have slipped into cow shit, but the opportunity to be there and slip into the cow shit, to experience a new place, is more worthy than a permanent residence of familiar carpet patterns. (I am not encouraging or recommending anyone into slipping into cow-shit. (Read: The Insomnia Scriptures Pt 1) The best thing about this is that you can mold it to be true to you (not the cow shit) or you can just think it is bullshit nonsense, which would be completely false because all writers must protect their claims to death.)

The chance and result of some of the most miserable occurrences later led to insights and story details that otherwise would not have existed. They were lessons of the self and studies on how previous insights of chaos were but dainty little snail freckles. The huff and puff of mild dehydration and breaking personal boundaries was nothing compared to those who every day live on the verge of exploration, but finding the self out of it's comfort box of expectation allows a duration to be tested. Tony Guykamuyni must be talking through me, In short terms: Damn it feels nice to expand my old limitations and see a new place, even though others have gone further does not mean my adventures are worthless.

Still upright, no traumas or disaster.

(Interlude of the slightly unecesarry:
Instead of still life fruit renderings can we fulfill a practice of painting prominently displayed breakfast sandwiches? And how can some body state a claim in that a fool cannot be wise? Often in order to evolve you have to really take a chance, and that area of the unexpected is usually delivered by common thought as the stupidest thing you could ever do. I think it is wise to be a fool and foolish to state that a fool cannot be wise, but also foolish to dismay at somebody else's thought, for they're only possessed by it's convincing belief is....)

now that the unnecessary self-dialogue has passed before it could scientifically and morally be proven unjust and horrendous...
The bicycle continued to squeak.

Small secluded town were prominently passed. Cashews in a can were kept as the closest of comrades.(Say it!)

Days passed and though no major groundbreaking events happened on the returning ride home from the bike ride, it was still a chill of free air and gain of insight on the difference of water textures between the drinking fountains in supermarkets and the bathroom sinks of small gas stations.

(The proceeding area of this is going to mostly rely on the images to do any story telling.)
Pt Two:
Favorite Creek Stones of the Day

& More

Belling Profile

Know You

Frog and Pipe

Absence Of Belief

No Negating

Taste Dried

Pt 2:Don't count the miles up soon.

The Poem series: Dear Blog,

2011-05-09T05:02:00.000-07:00

Dear BLOG,
Artificial coffee doesn't do shit compared to regular coffee but it makes you piss just as much.
Dear BLOG,
It's difficult to decipher how much of the world is indeed serious or how much is really some ongoing, vivid satire joke full of spray tans and rabid missile-effect babies.
Dear BLOG,
I'm not so sure I really care so much about national, worldly, or universal debt. I'd actually like to see it stack up higher and see if folks get the econo-joke and stop participating in one's own demise.
Actually, now that I think of it, I'm sure you could say "The World Is Definitely Ending (Rapture/ Tom Cruise-Missiles/ Rambo NINE/Suicide Popes/Etc.) on Friday! Friday the 13th.. because the number thirteen is UNLUCKY, because we're told so, and that's how it is.
The world ENDS on friday the 13th, and...
People'd continue going to...
"..'gotta pay my debit debt at the end of the month. You know, support the _Fill in the blank_"
Can't let the END of the WORLD stop .... (Too ranty.)
Dear BLOG,
It's a beautiful day today. Cynicism is an easy approach but making something of the experience we live takes a leap and courageous risk. Let others be sinking ships if they wish, but don't fuck up your own jive.
We know there's an old lonely lady chain smoking shitty home rolled cigarettes playing cards on a fat, slow computer with Judge Judy on in the background.. I've seen it several times before.
Do not turn into that old lady.

04-24-2011 Photographs

2011-05-04T20:33:00.000-07:00

Here is a set of photographs taken on 04/24/2011 amongst an exploration after a small rain fall. Last week a small tornado came through the area. Though it was of a very low category, some heavy damage was brought along though most houses were avoided by the strong winds. Still, some barn walls were torn apart and you can see the trails of ripped trees and branches spread about through the fields. The woodpeckers will have lots of dead wood to eventually initiate fine dining if you want to look at the bright side. Now I feel like I am doing a weather report at that's the furthest from any area I wish to tread.

Simplistic photographs, natural shapes, a few double exposure techniques.

As always, click for larger:

Wadded Up Wrigleys Reveals The Answers Of Life

2011-05-03T18:17:00.000-07:00

This draft was drafted to the drafty drapes of ill-mannered meanderings and thus only remains in this skeletal form:

I had the long awaited answers to human kinds questions. It manifested through a wadded up old piece of wrigley's gum when I was wiping down old tables in a warehouse that this old couple from Vermont were emptying out. If you seek the revelations of how a wadded up piece of gum formulated the answers of mankind, you'll have to ask somebody else! I guess that will result to be one of mankind's unanswered questions after all questions are revealed.. albeit is it worthy of scratching after the "Why are we here's?" and "What is the face of god and may I poke it?" questions are revealed.

Each answer was written down on a bounty paper napkin. It was written with a felt tipped blue sharpie, so the transcription came out slightly blurred with fattened lettering, though this did not stunt any ability of perception.

I had continued to clean..You may ask why somebody holding the long awaited reasons for existence would continue to go about working a chore.. Well, the place was so dirty that it HAD to be further cleaned to find even a glimpse of a doorway.

I lost the note...

Why this information would be cast out to somebody so careless is beyond myself... Damnit, now there are TWO mysteries tabbed unto curiosity after our -Hows- and -Whys- would have been revealed... The 'how the hell does an ancient piece of wrigleys gum communicate sacred mysteries?', and 'how the hell did THIS guy get the responsibility of obtaining such wisdom?' When all is revealed, stances upon these answers will form strict interpretations over this boiling set of questions.

Though I still had maintained memory of many sacred answers, I later had found the napkin and had been accompanied by a joyous self-celebration. It was hidden under a dust pan in a very descriptive area with many adjectives to be had.

I decided to rip this sacred answer up into millions of pieces and throw it down an outhouse hole. I figured that the circumstance that just any mere man or woman could be found to obtain the answers of life is just unacceptable. To think that random, ludicrous displays of interpretation could present a series of new thought or that anybody not on the A-list could access a self-found answer was absurdity to the highest degree. People have worked very hard to make it out that a high and mighty source of self-sacrifice and in-fighting remained the ever-so-close constant peak of answer. Something witty happened and then a flying duck crashed into a mill house but nobody noticed.

That old couple from Vermont were happy to have found their warehouse organized and in order which proceeded to be wiped way the next morning by an unexpected tornado. Blogs were blogged and babies were babied and somehow reason found itself to be anything as varied from a piece of old gum underneath a decade old table to the mere possibility that some half-witted traveling table cleaner could spark long-lost answers in a world where gas prices continue to evoke emotional opinion.

Wheel Of Tone - Cosmic Hopping Spider

2011-04-29T22:48:00.000-07:00

Wheel Of Tone

Translators


Portable Flying Skin Suit

Source of background, photo of flooded stream channel 04/27/2011. Mirrored to result the effect of above images.

Parts ???/??? continued. These images were finalized on 04/29/2011

A further in the series of 'viewpoint on perception' (ha ha) and using hands/eyes as the center of concept.

For the concern of possibly non-important information I'd like to note that upon the opposite hand of the eye there had been drawn a wrist watch with a ? within the center. I had sat at the bus station leering for a bus that would not come, occasionally checking the hand-drawn and numberless clock.

I should update the disclaimer on this page, please don't be a jerk and use images from this blog without contacting me first.

Take note! Seagull sneeze and space-wave hopping spider:

Cosmic Hopping Spider

So I Melted My Own Belief

2011-04-29T00:44:00.000-07:00


'So I melted my own belief' Part ???/??

Valid Sale

2011-04-27T06:37:00.000-07:00

Click for larger

Valid Sale II

04/24/2011. Ingredients include:
-An old collage made from an advertisement of a woman religiously holding a bottle of milk, cradling it as if it were a baby.. which would make sense because it is milk and a life nourishment yet the way it was advertised reeked with material rather than life force. Also, she holds milk in such a holy way yet the tap to the original vessel is nearly right below her hand. (Used from a collage taped onto the inner foldout of a cocoa chocolate bar wrapper. Images and marker layered over)
-Two photographs from 03/26/2011 merged together (A construction fence and a blurred shot of some street lights)
-Repeated photomutation of four hands stemmed from one.

Valid Sale I

The 57ryjtrdju7d5678kr

2011-04-26T17:48:00.000-07:00

Back to tinkering around with digital imagery.

The 57ryjtrdju7d5678kr

04/26/2011
Inspired by j8trm9tbtsdbsfusdbifsdifsdjfubsdyfusb.
This is a special, secret code that has just been uncovered from several ancient texts. If you unscramble the letters you will find something that works much similar to the prophecy of w_sted t_me.

If you act seriously enough and put lots of eyes into frightful unknowns, a substantial amount of mystery and wonder can be accumulated. A great way to introduce exotic new coffee blends.

Rain, rain raid.. Last night I drove through a thunderstorm and then proceeded to have dreams regarding the very same thunderstorm. The flashes of lightning lit up the entire plane-view only to recede into a vast thickness of fog that the headlights could not pierce through, a fun process when weaving in and out through the frog infested back roads. Today I worked on a bicycle and proceeded to use zip ties to ghetto rig a milk crate to the back of the frame and then continue in creating some digital imagery which has been my calling over the last few days. Why this would be interesting to anybody is beyond me, but I've read more mundane things within the 'blogosphere'.

Thinking about a concept I may greedily have felt was original, though possibly it is not very original at all, I wanted to form a use of 'over-advertising.' A very 'to-the-throat' adoption of reversal of the anti-corporate stance or much too serious protest of companies. 'Over-advertising' would rather plaster advertising slogans and company logos virtually everywhere to such an overwhelming effect that the 'overdoing it' method will possibly allow more of a result than the dry process of screaming or protest. It would of course need a much more slogan friendly term than 'Over-advertising.' A branch of culture-jamming, I'm sure the legality of it would not be in too much of a concern if in fact that many more bright smiley yellow M's were to be strapped across America, companies would not take action. This is of course only in pilot-mode and all backfires should be thought out and the percentage of people that take it literally or too seriously will either result in proof or disaster.

Also, I started thinking about the horror of blogs and youtube accounts, about how many people's creations would go down the drain if a 'terms of services' changeup of a minute kind were to be affixed. Since only so few sites are the driving force of such a wide host of storage or public access it is interesting to see how with such an ease social networking sites can raft a population of internet users from one dock to another. I also thought about facebook being plunged from existence then realized that if this were a Luddite mentality I'd be a hypocritical cunt for writing a blog post about it.

Back to the image:
The eye is of 'Vinnie,' A feline not that far from being similar to the ancient cat god from the wisdom laden tv cartoon Top Cat. The use of fingers and hands has been a common theme for many recent pieces of imagery.
I'm going to use a bunch of conspiracy-related labels to relate to this image post just to see what the results regard after having posted this. The post that receives the most views on this blog is my write up regarding DNA, and while subjects like that fascinate me to no ends, it is interesting to see how views change so quickly and one moment something of complete interest can later be questionable. I moved from analyzing such things in write ups to questioning them in a personal regard, so whatever expectations there are of this blog is always news to me. I'm sure if there are any 'regulars' which i doubt, the constant change-ups are a bit confusing, but this is not based around a sole topic or mood, just whatever occurs in my adventure and attempt to keep it from being as boring as I can manifest.

Semi-related, at the moment, the observation of 'worry' being an addiction is rather apparent. This does relate to the image in a sense because if the will or mentality of perception relates a reaction to it, being overly-serious or worried upon something that does not have to be so concrete stirs the mind up to 'reaction' mode. Instead of taking an image or viewpoint and affixing your own use or interpretation, you are guided by that very worry to be convinced that nothing more can be done with the object if certain guidelines are fenced up.

The serious side of this imagery is that you can take something that is an 'eye' and it doesn't have to be instigating forms of mystery but can in fact be fun or involve the empowerment of self rather than instantly thinking the word 'THEM!' The ridiculous side of this image is instantly thinking the word 'THEM!' and providing the power of an image with an impression that can be flexed due to perception. This is a two sided coin that somehow landed upwards. This seems like deja-vu x20.

One thing I hate the most is when a person who creates an image goes on and on about what the image may refer to or attempts to make a suggestion as to how the viewer may perceive the image thus distracting the flow of insight that may come from the viewer's imagination. With that, I will allow myself to forget that an 'edit post' button exists.
The next post will be another image without any words following it.
If I can be blessed with more experiences to allow myself to struggle a year later trying to write up another travel article, it will be a very cherished opportunity. Try walking through the next rainstorm that comes near you. It is very refreshing and cleansing to overcome that common taboo of 'getting wet' within the rain drops of nature.

The Holiday After Easter

2011-04-24T17:03:00.000-07:00

The Holiday After Easter

I could try to make up many an excuse for a direct meaning of this image, like the sexual organs being the main replacement of where the mind usually operates from with some blurred vision, or rich, well off people looking at oddities and minorities as social entertainment.
A story of alien invasion (yawn) could be drawn up but the family seems just too thrilled for an extreterrestrial attack to occur, unless it is a benevolent contact (which is a rare concept in media.)

Really though, this is just completely random. A random collage with no intent of symbolic meaning other than what your insights will allow.

Collage:
Magazine 01:
'Better Houses For Rich People Living,'
or maybe it was
'How To Get Your Wife To Cook Better'
I forget which one
merged with
'National Geographic.'
(I'd like to celebrate the lengthy years that National Geographic has had its wonderful professional photography ripped up and collaged by the countless amounts of collagists out there.
Without National Geographic, there would have been many tacky, less than qualified nature backgrounds for lingerie models and pornography mutations to be affixed to.)

The third layer is a self portr I would rather not talk about. I tried making a birds beak from the 'robin hood jeans' in another photograph but the beak looked way too flaccid. It's as normal as the bunny story. Sometimes you learn to hate flower illustrations.

The Insomnia Scriptures Pt 1: The Forbidden Zzzs

2011-04-24T09:20:00.000-07:00

Written 04/24/2011 by Les Monstrelli

A slight exaggeration of surrounding perception forms around the base root of dreams and stock quotes. If the two were to ever mix you might find yourself buried within a pit of shame wondering how creative imagination were to be infiltrated by hopeless gambling. A certain carelessness of worry, yet chaotic sensitivity to the slightest noise guide way into realizing that the inner self is connecting to the physical being by only a frayed string of something resembling dental floss. This reminds you that your swollen lymph node glands and plaque collected teeth need as much attention as an old dog sharing the home with a brand new puppy.

Nightmares of truss rod adjustments and soggy socks swivel but are swooped away like cartoon birds circling around Top Cat's face, led to go off and bug somebody less resistant to illustrative follies. Waking up in a sleeping bag with uncoordinated zippers, you realize you're out in the middle of a field. It is started to drizzle but you don't give a damn.. You'd rather wait to give a damn for when you are soggy and surrounded, even a part of the mud puddles that were not birthed when you first lay down. What state are you in and how did you get there? You've heard the stories of people waking up to wandering bulls, in places that they did not remember entering the night before, only dragged along by a certain phasing of survival and numbed away concern of consequence.

Ideas of truth, image, quest, all seem laughable and even hunger has lost sense of desire in the bath of 'the ever drenching rest-lack' the absurdity of viewing a world of worry from the eyes of what sleep deprivation expertise torture tests would seem tame in comparison. Worry-gone in a worry-world, however. The drizzle picks up, you test to see if your feet are still working.
Hills surround.. A circle of hills. What kinds of creatures may lurk within. No cows, no bulls, not even any animal shit to slip in or mud-puddles built up from the young rain. You get up onto your feet, surprised to connect a feeling to them and feed yourself with the operation of moving them to a place of dryness before the puddles grow.

Two lovers fall into an awkward state of humility in sexual escapade, a fender bender occurs on a hesitant trek to work, an arcade machine eats 50 cents, and somebody else on the planet is in just as much of a hysterical sleepless inertia at the very moment. Count until minutes later and there will probably be another fender bender, this time from some drunk, a favorite t-shirt will be shrunk in the dryer, a man will kiss a woman with a long lost guilt in the back of his mind which will hide some truth never admitted and eventually cause a crash of irrational behavior between the two but at least they didn't get in a fender bender.

Of course, none of that crosses your mind, because by this time, on a different location of planet Earth completely, you happily reach a dry spot towards a ridge of a cavern as the hill sides grew nearer. Where you are you will just have to figure out when you are well rested enough to give a damn, To plug events together and see if this itself is not just some dream.
A flame awaits the inside cave and you care not to fumble with the zippers. They were like that since your friend gave the shoddy thing to you. Something about Plato comes up in your mind, but you figure other people must have written about flames within cave walls and then you laugh at the absurdity of finding yourself where you are and wonder the threat posed upon yourself in entering without proper etiquette.
If you're unwelcome, you'll know.. If you're to be devoured down to a bone-rattle, you'll surely know.. If you're dreaming, you'll have to pinch yourself damn better than that. You start to think Twilight Zone and raving violent goblins but only see to it as embedded images from the fantasies of writers during chaotic times. Chaos never settles, but that's a thought for after well-rest.
Take off your shoe as it serves as the worst pillow you've ever had.

Wake up, a cold breeze. Radiant smile.. It somehow happened, Batteries slightly charged, eyes kept closed. The last time it's been with such a lost collection of Zzz's was a horrid cranky town full of expensive pay phone calls pleading for escape and irritable folks with city accents hoping for your death.. But that adventure is destined for later days. You open up your eyes, see the sun from out the cavern coming from the curves of tall hills. There's a sound of swooshes in the distance.
Highway. Stream. Alright knees.. connected back to having to concern the body. Stretch, groan those human groans of "Can't stop now. I've known people nearing a lost liver who haven't stopped downing drinks, 'seen race car drivers enter the trip of coma but came back to the wheel' so you follow that stupid philosophy though it's less on base of self-destruction, follow your own feet towards that sound of a hiss.

A new hiss enters your perception as a stream enters ear-way. You think of how it is that the sound stays put once it enters in perception, right after you 'lock in' or notice it's relevance.
Dip down, find a lucky stone. Cold on your finger pads but not as much compared to the water now through your palms and against your face. Clean enough to drink, this isn't pond scum or city water.

One foot falls in jumping the rest of the stream from over a bank. Damn miscalculations. Awe well, you hadn't awoken gnawed on by cavern dwellers nor faced the despicable nightmare of truss rod adjustments just yet, so the soggy-shoes dilemma will have to be met with a collection of briers and small vines wrapped around your wet pant legs.

Car insurance signs stand tall near a thin 'highway' if you can call it that.
Thumb out, intentionally non-threatening-seeming 'I'm not going to kill you' smile on your face.
Inner admittance of 'nobody, no-fucking-body is going to pick me up. Thanks a lot, predictable, gore-filled hitchhiker murder movies.'

Somehow the sarcastically infiltrated beta version of the word 'cute' comes up as you see the wet prints of the one soggy shoe follow behind with the sloppily folded and tied sleeping bag shrugged upon your shoulder.
You get to read even more tall billboards the further in miles you have gone on and the only other traffic around had been older cars going the opposite way and one travel bus going yours.
You take your thumb and press it up against your nose blowing a snot rocket out onto the sandpaper-like road, all along following the stream sister to the roadway, that you had hopped over from coming out of your little nap 45 minutes ago.

You're no amnesiac yet trying to avoid the worry or wonder of just how you ended up here or where you are. All other memories seem to be all but escaped but at a hidden worry, an alert is set-off to 'freaked outness' when 'WAKE-UP' is glanced upon quickly on the next billboard coming up.

Jitters and quick breath, a quick second of panic mode..
A dream?
Great, you're in some mid-world and a manifestation of a cheesy sign is trying to be that 'Pinch of the skin.'

....'To our new breakfast sandwhich."

'The fuck??' you respond, wanting to backhand reality hard, or your own perception of sign, wondering the coincidence or perhaps reaction of commodity, where this phrase surely is seen everywhere, with a big cheesy smiling yellow 'M' with curvaceous feminine uppers of the shape, yet it's time and place is too appropriate for the lacking of understanding of just where all of this is.

You want to climb that sign and rip away it's paper sheet.
You stop and look up, consider it..
A car comes along, you decide not to.

Things get stranger, or less predictable.
This car stops.

Impala, 1980-something-Impala. You don't know shit about cars, you know it's a Chevy and better than most horrid regular new models.
Man stops... Dalmatian in the back seat is the first thing you notice. A red collar. You look up to the driver..
Round-edged sunglasses, a straw hat, Gillette-commercial shave, long sleeves and vest, passenger: pale-skinned 1950s hair, wrist bracelet, v-line black cut sleeve t-shirt, green eyed lady.
'Rise'N'Shine' sticker on the side back window of the car...

You're in the back being driven down the road.
Douglas.... Shannon. Douglas looks at you from the upper gape of his sunglasses in the rear view when he talks to you. Shannon tells you about how they'd both first met on the road. You admire their ability to pick you up within the mental confines of a superstitious collective, and are surprised of the dalmation's admiration of you.. Usually most dogs try to turn your fingers or organs into chew toys.
You glance over to the window sticker, place your elbows onto the sleeping bag atop your lap.
'Rise'N'Shine' Damn the awake world is weird..

"So where are you going?"

03/2010 Travel Photographs

2011-04-18T08:48:00.000-07:00

It started off as a flipped coin. The options registered between solitary living and complete assurance of recognized territory verses uncharted exploration with limited resources and an addiction to getting lost. Luckily, that imaginary coin inevitably landed on the 'fill up the damn travel bags and let's get out of here!'

Dylan, or from now on in this story known as 'Soil Finn' and myself found the March of 2010 to be of a charming temperature. We'd both finished 'The Hobbit' and around this time so the idea of 'adventure' was alluring. People would be slouching or getting drunk to complete extremities and many familiar scenes of grey walls were open to repetition in a place where spring break nourishes a populace with getting hammered. I don't remember exactly how the idea was approached, but the events of the previous sentence had a mighty reign of decision on where not to be. Soon enough we were piercing through hordes of town borders alongside enormous RV/Camper lots and Stop'n'Gos along the interstates.

The interstates and back roads are brought up a lot when traveling is discussed and it is indeed no hoax that the back roads are of beauty and surprises whereas the interstate is as different as visiting a theme park in FL rather than going to a theme park in LA., or, visiting a Wendy's in Portland would be interstate, but eating home made food and ice cream in a tucked away family run business in West Virgina is the back roads luxury. I imagine those on schedules getting irritated with all the winding roads, but throwing that clock out of the window led to appreciating many of the reckless roads and expansive forests that surrounded rocky scenery but also new cities along the way.

A couple guitars and some changes of clothes... Many extra socks for myself, with what proved to be TOO many socks, canned foods and a stack of memory cards and notebooks of course. There was no real destiny other than where we would end up and how long we could ride on expending the fuel costs plus how much money that could possibly be panhandled to correct that.

The first town we went to was Jamestown, but only after we rolled into Allegeny park, Ny. It was a last second decision, and the curvature of the off ramp exit was as rounded as an obvious fake set of silicone breasts on an all too petite.. well, a better reference could be used.. The off ramp was simply a complete loop, so we felt like a rocketship making a u-turn with this

"Should we"

"I don't know, should we!?"

"Yeah!" decided, right when the exit was nearly passed.

So we went there instead of seeing the world's biggest ZIPPO lighter. Which might have been a good idea as now matches or the stove top are my current resorts of fire.

Ice patterns within a lake at Allegeny

When everything is new to you, it is all untouched. The details are vibrant and the colors all have a temperature and story that you can find yourself too overwhelmed to realize until you look back on it later. Even looking back on the choice that was delving into that off-ramp exit.

It was nearly empty and the roads seemed to go on forever.. But they weren't roads, really.. They didn't seem like traditional 'Roads' going from a point A to point B. There was actual experience in any direction. Park wherever and get out.. so we did.

There was still ice over the pond

Enter Jamestown:

There were two areas visited which I had experienced in the past, Cleveland, Oh and jamestown,Ny.
The latter, being the second 'pin on the map' of discovery was a town that never really seemed to have aged.
By the time we arrived, nightfall was already starting to birth, and one thing about this town was that after 8PM it was ghost-silent.
Though the communal aspect was tucked away, this only added to the availability to explore the areas otherwise limited such as old buildings and places between the gritty areas. Old dreams of this scenery came up many times since my first visit, so it was interesting in seeing it all once more.

A statue photographed from through architecture nearby a pawn shop and taco restaurant Pawn
your shoes and buy shelled tacos.

A rooftop viewpoint with the olde tyme movie theatre across the street.

A human below walking the sidewalk, creating a fun photo perspective.

Soil Finn skates down the garage ramps in a blur of speed.

Alleys ahead: Land of stray cats.

Beside the train tracks and near a passing stream in Jamestown,Ny.

The town was nice and worth a third visit, but it's mellow tone was too subtle and only being the first day of travel, we had said our goodbyes to Jamestown and headed
forward.

I remember two 50 stacks of CDs becoming wearisome by the end of the trip, but somehow the Ramones saved me from what otherwise might have been a drained behavior and upset demeanor of becoming 'too lost.'

driving, driving, driving, driving. Eyes became heavy and it was about damn time to re-energize. A parking lot of a strip mall.. How appropriate for indivuals seeking free air and breath of life. Well, It'll do for now.. The street cleaner finally went away and the morning was filled with a wish for more sleep and parking lot gifted with piss stains and passing shoppers.. staring at the out-of-towners.

A bed room and pissed parking lot as Finn wanders while I get rest.

Photo by Soil Finn, A nice capture if I do say so (which I just did.)

I woke up with a giant 'Babies'R'Us' sign staring at my face. We'd quickly get the heck out of there

Photo by Soil Finn. Cross re-arrange wires on light totems.

FOUR more children popped out of that vehicle which made me thank never being premature with and previous close lady friends.

Travel breath fights a war with shoe stink and sometimes they fight to the end.

Canned foods taste better
when your gums and tongue aren't up to the brim in plaque.

Eerie

Eerie, lake Eerie.. Mostly beautiful. Almost always beautiful.. Somebody read the map correctlyand after passing many vineyards on left and right and unforunately being reminded of the newAmericana known as TOLL roads we made it to Lake Eerie.

Lake Eerie,a bit zoomed in

A woman collects shells on the beast and finds herself in strange composition.

Shortly after, I remember the 'Happy Imbecile' song playing by Butterfly Joe (Joe Jack Talcum) and and arriving in the Town of Eerie. We'd rolled into a parking lot, picked some canned fruit out of the trunk storage and walked/skated to wherever we just might end up.

This town seemed rugged at first, moreso a factory town. The textures were sharp, the colors wererusty yet bright with the sun displaying them as important. We'd hopped a fence and used the railroads as a guiding point.

This is what a mushroom house looks like, in case you've ever wondered. Photo: Soil Finn.

S. Finn gets extremely radical doing amazing maneuvers from a tree.

Peach Street:

Town Summit.
Town Summit, Again.
Town... Fucking Summit!

Something happened. A time vortex conundrum, or.. Very impractical route choices.
Every seven or so minutes we had kept finding ourselves in Town Summit.. With the same surroundings and odd road structures.
We gave up on the delusion and rested our now nerve wrecked minds over this Town Summit thing
and took two packets of instant oatmeal and some bowls we had bought earlier on the trip into a grovery store eating area.
We proceeded outside as I sat three yards away from busted glass on the outside eating area as normal patrons gawked outside at two people enjoying a mid afternoon breakfast on the pavement.
I remember waving idiotically and winking at a senior couple and lively brunetts a few times and soon breakfast was finished and this Town Summit problem would have to be tackled.

Somehow, we escaped the paradox and were freed from the Summit demon's entwined fingers.

The next place only has a name of Peach Street because we bothered not to figure out just what town we were in.
We parked outside of a wine store which I would later enter with a 'fiver' between my forefingers in a black overcoat which could have doubled as a parachute.
hesitated not to ask to be shown around to see what kind of fine wines I could afford with my five dollars.

Now it was out to wander.
We started in a direction that most would consider 'the wrong way' it grew dim and slimey. textures and old buildings.. but also antique stores, thrift shops
and a smoke shop. The smoke shop was th only place open. We chatted a bit and explained our situation. Some people are very affectionate towards the event of meeting outsiders. Good friends to meet and people to be known as a landmark in case a return to any given place is taken up.
A dog proceeded to try and hump my leg which was fucking awful and annoying and we received advice on a good direction to go.

'Down one street and a few blocks to the left.'

Another building waiting for a headstone

Lovely lingerie in a Peach St front window that would sure to be something to ignite a reaction from your loved one.
Just what kind of reaction is your own fate.

A reason why I am more of a cat-person. Get the hell off me

LOCKED TRUNK

CLEVELAND

Cleveland: Creatures of Green and the Elephant Stampede:
"Dylan, what in the hell is going on??"
"I don't know Lee, I just don't know"
Lake Eerie was spacious and beautiful, still in present out the passenger's window.
We passed the handlebars of the bridge and entered into hordes of green people.
It was all too immediate, but wasn't to be the least of surprises within that hour of condensed moments.
Green people, everywhere.. what the hell!?

We'd quickly figured out that it was the seventeenth, St Patrick's Day. That, or the city we had stumbled across was full of very strange people (would would be just fine, really.) Cleveland, OH. My second time visiting this place, and Dylan's first.
An immediate U-turn was necessary. The streets were relentless in number and parking garages stuffed. The spring-break-drink-a-thon that the introduction of this writing stated abandonment of was now not just leering, but piercing with a concrete heavy stare into the fabric of our very being.
"Experience' was the agreed plan. There were old memories of perfect places to cheat the parking meters or pay booth, so we parked within those gates, brought musical instruments which proved no noise comparison to what we were about to hear, and headed this time by foot back over the handle bar bridge into the mouth of Cleveland.

Some of the nice people I'd ever met, in Cleveland. There was one lady that harassed Dylan at light night, guilting away his pocket change, but other than that, even the drunks were cheerful and bright characters to be around.

(In the lowest sounding pitch possible)
"Vrreooohhhohhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
"What was that!?? "
(A pause, and then the same exact sound from a different direction.)
'I don't know, but there's more than one of them!"
The sound grew thicker and noise became a wall the further we had moved forward.
There were memories of pigeons wearing bread necklaces and singing street performers from my prior visit to this city, but now there were road blocks and these...
"Vrreooohhhohhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
these gargantuan sounds echoing off the concrete walls of the talls Cleveland centre buildings of grand architecture.
Deep down, we knew it was St Patrick's Day drunkeness but a new and exciting adventure unfolded to the traveler's imagination.

"Elephants!"
"Yeah, giant runaway elephants!"
A stampede of them.. Our light steps in a new city, blocked roads.. the sounds of shattering glass. Somehow it was all very plausible.
Vreoooohhhh!
Finally we had found the instrument of which this sound had come from. It was a green tube, a noisemaker like you would see at a soccer tournament to ragingly piss off the opposite team in distraction of them from scoring a goal. And now drunkards were allowed to obtain these very instruments, while we had nothing.. but our guitars.

The serenity of silence came as soon as the shop door closed. Guitars set down in the seats and up to the counter.. The friendliest bakery workers I'd ever met as I came inside from the friendliest rowdy drunks I'd ever seen.
Something besides gas station coffee initiated thrice the energy and amazement of cheerfulness. God, that gas station coffee was horrid but it wouldn't be soon until it'd be had once more so we sat down to enjoy the shelter from winds and mild suppression of Elephant sounds still heard muffled through the glass. Asking to use the bathroom, it was completely trashed and I knew not to take the blame for that. Somebody in the hallway to the bathroom had alcohol poisoning. Very soon the ambulance would come in through the store front, in which by that time we were both playing songs by request of one of the workers.
We'd left soon after with a donation of some money and donuts from the workers, and we discovered more alcohol catastrophe victimization, unfortunately.

TO VIRG

Roadtime hysteria:
Like anybody who has driven countless hours straight, unto the blurry vision of the night time, for days straight... with oddities of sleep patterns, they too will know about road time hysteria.
We're both smelling like shit, driving a constant rate or 85 mph down roadways non distractedly changing CDs one after another and tuning into some of the most psychotic and entertaining baptist radio shows we were to ever be offered.
At one point I speed past some large signs.. my mind elsewhere at the time. Some sermon playing loudly, being told how much of a hopeless sinner I am. We're both very quickly submerged into cones deepening in count on either side of us, yet not slowing down at all.. The main traffic parts way to the right, we have the fuck of a slightest idea where we are going but I remain confident that I can keep going straight and get us back to the right direction. I sure as hell wasn't thinking about backing up into reverse for a half-mile straight,but I was also wondering if soon up ahead there would be some sort of drop off or discontinued road. We'll make it into a fine print obituary, with extra cans of tuna and sliced peaches gone uneaten. .Luckily, at 2AM I finally merged back onto the correct roadway.

This park was amazing. It was so nice to be away from an area where a falling red stock arrow caused threat or harm. Streams turned into lakes the further the trails led. We had driven up the trails as far as we could get. I released myself from my atomic bomb stink shoes and we played guitars on the picnic tables nearside a stream. Many fishers were basking in the sun up to their high ankles in the creeks.

"You boy's helped me serenade this here fish!" A mustached fisherman joyfully said aloud to us as he walked past our path with a large.. what was it a trout, I don't recall.
Never before did either of us have the title of Serenader of Fish until this day.

SCRANTON

Each town has it's own character. A sole individual set in flesh that embodies the color and texture of that town they reside. It's like if these souls were to ever leave the town it wouldn't be any different than losing a grand monument or cherished historical memory. Our own town had the wandering teleporting Gypsy. We only'd thought he was teleporting because no matter which way one would travel, they'd seem to run into him at least twice. He also seemed to be on a constant lsd trip, whereas my entire observation of his every form of communication was done in voice impersonation and often seemed to be directed towards himself only. One day I had bumped into this figure on the street, the super market, the salvation army and the book store, thus the speculation of teleportation ability... Though this character had 'vanished' as of the last few years.

Towns like Scranton and Cleveland, Peach ST and many in between all had these diverse characters as well. Many of these memorable people are usually either vagrants or high hearted but normally lower class individuals. Some of the craziest and most story-worthy characters have the gutter to call their home but at the same rate, many of the most intelligent and wise characters I have met were also on this shit-end of the class-stick.
There are different degrees of mental institutions that people are let out of and you run into these people all the time. One of these institutions are colleges where the accepted insanity is free to roam and the other institution is the mental institution where when some of these are closed down, they are forced onto the streets. Though you and I both know of the other diversities of institutions such as military or employment. the
'Hi-Guy' refers mainly to the mental area, and it is always harsh seeing people in this mentality thrown along the heavy stream of the rat race.
That being so, we'd have run into him dozens of times.. Each time we came across was our 'first time in meeting him' and we'd re-introduce ourselves kindly each time.
Blocks away, literally blocks away, if he spotted you.. "HIIIIiiiii" at as loud a pitch possible.
Town-greeter, replacement of church bells, this man was the landmark of a small town and a character you couldn't trade for any normal man. No, it really did beat a bland and blunt conversation over weather temperature.


I don't know why we smoked cigars upon this travel, but the winds were heavy and I grabbed a local paper.

Letting our lower limbs rest, I cut out local faces of familiar performers and made stickers of them. Later some characters from the adult personals were to be immortalized in sticker form.

It was carpel tunnel all for nothing. If I get to a library again soon I will try to remember the majority of what was written, but I don't think it'll matter much because this is neither pornography nor endless mystery.
Thanks, anyhow, to Blacksmith in Cleveland for being such a downright charismatic and gifting individual, and to my computer for being the biggest pile of shit that randomly deletes the majority of things I work on.

Anyhow, if you're looking for completed, well written travel stories you can check this link out
http://www.northbankfred.com/stories.html
My lack of sleep is growing into a dire conundrum and human interaction on a base level looks to be revolved around mellow hellos and how are is the weather or people trying to sexually stimulate themselves. The original full story was much funner to read than all this 'hooplah,' trust me.. I'll try to get to that again, and this time back up all the words before blogger.com digests them completely.

Storm Clouds and Travel Photos July 2009

2011-04-17T04:31:00.000-07:00

Click for larger

July, 2009. One of my favorite places I discovered in 2009, from a long drive coming back from out of the state. The photo reignites that feeling from when it had just started to rain, welcoming it in every matter, clearing out old things. It was worth staying within. With the pond nearby and storm clouds growing, the rain that arrived was useful in washing up days of travel. I miss that place but not the fences.

Sunken Lands

2011-04-17T03:00:00.000-07:00

Is this some crashed, rabid area of misfortune and busted up tires or is there something more beyond that rubble? Something that teaches.
It looks like waves in the back, or maybe stars, but you're up somewhere because those are building lights that look like reflection.

Click for larger

Take a second look.. It's a verge of ideal where there's something beautiful hidden just behind the intrusive and beauty is confused with malignant. Still it's never bad to see waves as stars.
Photograph taken on 06/08/2009 with what was a broken/limited camera.

Pyra Daughter

2011-04-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

Families wilted, dried away, there are two skies in which you stare.
The one which knows the motions, the other which disappears.
Ladders you know well, They reside above your grips
She's a maze within her mind, A journey of endless trips.
Past the childhood, that place of Eden you know by heart.
It casts a shadow from then up to when mayhem was introduced.

We search for a fraction, something familiar to identify
Many of us take what we can get with no pause to ask why
The lives taught and values given are recited through face value
But if the face is a facade should we continue the golden fraud?
Shaken out of that dream state, that youth before the flood
to the shards of the malicious scratching toward your body
in a history of distortion, Could you believe such an occurrence
Where the Goddess was condemned into the image of something worthless
She bleeds, she sheds in a line stricken with fire
where intelligence and grace is subsided by desire.
The paint trails of battle roads extend upon her skin
wasted off by the fragments, when it floods can she swim?
The middle of the Pyra, daughter of shadow and of sight
Connection to recollection, the dreams fed through the night.