Chameleon Morsels

Bouncing Bella

Some song called Lucinda I forgot about. From 09/10/2011. Pretty dorky but fun

A Morsel of the Chameleon!!
Absolute original labors of self-combobulated tightly squeezed sound and atmosphere births plus a few movie samples and the guest accompaniment of Soil Finn. A spirit unwiring cartoon ear ritual within a playful excavation of the intolerable to the cozy.


Comedy/rebirth/chance/ghetto appliances/Soul-Force Rising/
Using a toaster as a percussion instrument/The reflections of a Hermit lifestyle

Like a dyke on a plane it could flood in the sky at any minute.

After calling in beings of balance and beauty for guidance on an insightful day:

The story of the bat and the facing of the 'other half' peered deep this day

(How have thee refrained from smashing thy computer I ask! How have thee garnered thy patience to not rip sockets from thee wall and punt Windows 90 year old OS from a tall building!! Okay maybe some soothing..)


A cut snippet of the front and back of Soil Finn and I near the Recluse Stream playing music between pulling off ticks as more Hawks Vultures and Crowes dance in the skies. Fish, too.




Soil Finn & I were up to flowing again and I recorded more as usual. These songs are actually from a different day with different music (03-16-2012 two days before the tree-climbing.) Find a fitting environment for your framework. In this case, ours was this seat of a wood-paw near fisherpeople, fish-people and perfectly flat shore stones.

Then there was the power-ballad "Glub-Glub Glub (Serenading the Fish)" We actually did help somebody serenade a fish before when playing music in West Virginia. No, that's not like it sounds.. A fisher-person (or fish person) was in the stream of a public park while we were playing music and after he caught a fish he told us that it was our playing that allured the fish unto the hook. But I already wrote about that, or even already wrote about writing about that one. More hooks.

In the meantime here is a beaver. Actually, in the pleasant time, here is a beaver:

and one of these

I would have enjoyed to have fixed the imagery up a bit more but I corrupted the system. (There,I admit it: I corrupted the system, it was me. It wasn't even on purpose, it just happened >naturally<.) The audio will be a part of one of these sets that I keep hinting about. If I could make another Paige's Dragonfly I'd be ecstatically happy but this equipment is all literally on bare minimum. BUT this is what could pull through despite that and whatever proper knowledge of editing that is castrated from my (im)proper approach.


 03/14/2012. Okay, 14,16,(I'm going to strike this computer, I swear!ahem,sorry) and the 18th. I hadn't realized the days were so close together when all of this happened. This materialized from the 14th around when the EEAEAE tuning started to strike my fancy.
Firstly, I really did just want to inquire about this though:

We call this camikaze-enkouragement.

"Die in your own filth, artboy!!! The muse of the sou/il needs parachute pants and toy-story references! Pills'up'Mede!!" (Source of light free me from this chastised realm of boxes in boxes!! Free souls without identification. Human(e) Being! Manifest higher speeds of abundance, kept down by material banter no longer says 'm'ya!)

Avoid ticks. Sing about ticks.



Call upon the Old ones to guide your ways


Sso far:

Each copy will be FREE like YOU ARE.
(If by free, you mean donations accepted and providing shipping/stamp costs covered.)
Hand drawn artwork with each version,
Plus 'el presidente' the album guardian in whom protects all jewel cases.

Here are some examples of custom sketches that are ready to send out to some friends when this is finally finished:

 Portrait of Soil Finn

Thanks for the paper tablet 'Lana, shall use these perfectly-sized pages for each CD case.

 Each will be hand-done until I get tired of custom drawing album sleeves.
But despite that I will be giving away completed  pieces like these, too (16X20 canvas.)

and ruin someone's day with a naked Hazel-Island self-portrait

Because they do no good sitting around. There is no use of things going unseen of being stacked away, so shed all things for offering. If others can appreciate such then so be it! Just cover shipping or allow a kindly gesture to the accumulation of ability for more to spread.

(Note to self: Create a gallery of each new personalized album art as they are sent out..maybe.)

If I told you there will be many surprises then it wouldn't be a surprise!! I am hesitant to not already post all available for free right now but a bit more work needs to go into it and I want a lot of special visuals and keys placed through the physical copies. (Or lots of extra copies laying around ready to throw into a lake or not?)
Mostly likely this will be released on a DVD disc with each album and it's set of visuals in place.



The moment, the sacrifice of life-experiences to create.
The risk&sentiment of putting something out to the consensual world but to hold affirmation to what you
could create from that experience of heart and lesson. It is easy to be snide or criticize or
bitch but to use what little you have available and create a space puts an abundant path where
scarcity once resided.

I suppose that is a means of saying that hopefully where 'talent' or proper approach may be lacking
perhaps a personal touch could replace that (and it does.)
At the end of the day, there is a scale: hesitation or pride. Conquer self-doubt.
Any force that needs to bring you down or hold you from being whole seems in itself to be imbalanced and unfulfilled of it's potential.Buy your peace medallions it only adds to the suffering! Shed identification or not, it's fine.


Other:

These are some mighty fine ducks

Wait, We're not done yet, you and I

Mauling List Fore

(The two songs before the Chameleon Morsel) Download link coming soon (maybe) for all three mp3s.

Inhale Every Rubber Skin Bat Birth 03/29/2012
5:40 9.09 MB 224kbps

:01 to :51 ?????????(Currently unnamed) 03/24/2012
:51 to 2:18 Rebirth Of An Acorn Hat Snapper(With Soil Finn performing Rhythm guitar) 03/27/2012
2:38 to 3:22 Rubber Skin Bat Boy 03/26/2012
3:39 to 5:36 Inhale me in your skin (Every Cage Broke Open) 03/27/2012
Priestess rise & light is born!
5:36 to 5:40 Planets come and go in perception

Dance Like A Human(e) 03/29/2012
6:20 10.1 MB 224kbps

:01 to 1:44 Dance Like A Human (With Soil Finn Percussion) 03/27/2012
1:44 to 2:38 ?????????(Currently unnamed) 03/24/2012
2:38 to 3:45 Dance Like a Human/????? 
3:45 to 4:35 Granted to Many Lives (Current title) 03/26/2012
4:35 to ???? (Currently unnamed) 03/24/2012
4:44 to 5:21  Dance Like A Human
5:21 to 6:20 Granted To Many Lives

A new kind of kick: Jumping snails--Diaper Ice Cream

Okay, let us give this a go.
Let us rather than Let's which often reminds me of lettuce
Put it in the fridge and forget about it
and it's leafs start to brown,
So, Let Us, give-this,a go:

But first, Lettuce introduce the sponsor of this 'go' with
our new, top of the line, one of a kind
Diaper Flavored Ice cream.

Scoop it snoop it smell it,
we have many flavors for you to savor
Yes, diaper flavored ice cream.

Brought to you by the fine folks who serve cigarette-flavored tuna bars.
"mmm mmmm just like Unkie used to make it, and send home from cell # CB-4."


Warning: The following program may contain viewpoints.
Viewpoints are substances of information collected by a conscious entity riding the wave of life through the human experience.

If you find these viewpoints shocking or offensive, you may want to:
Take a walk around the block,
Or go step, with waders, past the dock
Or suck a wadded sock
Or, plainly disagree,
Because each entity, may
Wahoo
contain,
one or two viewpoints.


Have you ever felt like you were condensing your soul-self unto the rife performance of 'getting along to get along?'
Or to get a long lung full of lollies lulling lullabies that makes the expression of purity seem, a little bit... oh, sock mouthed and malnourished?

Well, news!!
Many many seem to hold back inner thoughts... Perhaps binding the expression of inner truths to please the company, or make that sale!

Sales don't sail but sails sail and snails don't hop, that is for frogs.

But frogs in the fog might run into a snail and if a snail gets spooked...
justtttttttt enough....
It will hop!!
Don't believe me?
Try it!
Get out there, wait in the fog.
It may take an hour, Okay,
a couple of hours..
but wait..
Down in the trench, the muck, the gumbaboo, the trestle.
You'll see a jumping snail.



Okay, now that you have returned from the trestle..
Now,now.. Don't be messy, take off your fog-dwelling boots before continuing.
Okay good, that's much better.
Do you seem to get picked up out of a lineup,
the best to serve?
Training each moment to condense your actions of soul force into a little niche of marketability..
Condensing, like a chowder soup, every fraction of action into something sellable, fashionable..
Every pure beauty of randomness randomized so expectation can be the NEXT thing to expect!?

Symbols of patterns penetrating the pedestrian psychology as to predict what the buyer may do next!?

Grumble grumble grumble I wish this I wish I want I ought I wish I had..
CHANCE!!!
Into the unknown!!!
Presented, by the rhythm, Gifted.
Oh what yuppy, free-loving, beat-headed wishful thinking, freak talk!!!
Misery loves company. Company provides misery.
Put this tag on!!!
Now, make milk, cattle!!!
We'll bring your slaw buckets out and call you pretty Bessie, just don't walk away from the stables, into the fields of jumping snails. We need such cow for Diaper Flavored ice-cream.

The jump, the switch, the GUESS.
Vibrations of a language to reinstate the new truths. Reworking newer understandings to realize the REAL flavor of artificially flavored to taste naturally.

Rebellious personas with tax-writeoffs. Peace symbols on skimpy panties, the symbol of feminine upside-down and sold sold sold sold too many solds listed gets old old old but a new style and glamor will replace the last.
Rebellious fashionability... Ability but unable,
Yet the choice: Participation comes through each and every second.

Birth the absurdity, Bring the rays of the childish elder.
Ra on a unicycle, your perception unto the eyes of who you stare into.
Roman calendar systems in the mouth of an underwater Nemo.

The angers of the past balled up into a bubble and popped!
A rat-a-tat-tat of chance.
Fall into the line?
Touch breasts with the divine?
You always serve somebody unless ya ain't!

what will be remembered...
Are you happy and enticed for your journey to be one remembered and versed in the story of history?
Is this the trail you are sincere with, being told as a character?
Yes? If yes, all of this: words blurred, something to reflect... with the sour reference of an ice cream you may NOT wish to indulge.
If no, a reminder, not forced, I mean.. I could be wrong,yet, I prefer to convince my character otherwise because it's a little easier away from any letdown that way...
If no: Remember your own strength and each choice.
You never HAD to sit and wait for a snail to jump, out in the muck.

Beings of beauty: for when your perception of 'acceptable' is not muckied in the muds of what is and is not tolerable to a vision of stunning or sexy or fashionable.
But where did all the money go?
Well, I heard that alligators lived in the sewer.


We now cut to another FABULOUS sponsor.

"Hey Janie"
"Yeah Joey?"
"I saw the baby was sick and we ran out of ice-crea...."
-ZAP!!!'

Tommy Tucker

"Oh Gosh, you sweet thing, you must've been stuck out there in the rain all day!" Mrs. Williams was a cat lover. 45 with long brunette hair and a fancy for Velvet blouses, she knew the windy city was not such a place for a striped stray-- Not one such as Tommy Tucker the cat, at least!
He had been traveling for a month and two days. Kansas, Missouri, a strange loop following the howling of feline pussy in heat and derailed by the trails of fresh salmon by the dumpsters or yummy leftovers in suburban garbage cans. Alongside the raccoons he would scower through trash bins, leaving residents rightfully pissed by each morning with the mess that would have to be gathered up and re-bagged, but Tommy wouldn't have to be there to take the heat! Once a farm cat living off mice and nestling in the haystacks, he thought best to up and leave after growing weary of being chased off by the mean 'ol farmer and his hussie bitch wife whom would shatter poor Tommy's ears with her demonic howls. "Geyt yerself up on outta here you mangy bagg'a fur!" He took fine advice from those very words and was quite tired of the same sluts he would bury into each night and dickhead dogs that would howl like muscle heads and it wasn't until that very leap of fate that Tommy would see his first river, or grow fond of the same very scraps of luxury mentioned earlier that humans would consider leftovers. Sure he would miss the pure trip of watching the windmill spin circles or the entertainment of batting around the grass snakes and letting them dangle between his teeth, or the possums, skunks and squirrels which he would always talk it up with, but his welcome was stale like the sips of the dirty mud puddle. Hell, even would even moreso miss the fine quality catnip that he would get fucked up on every evening, but for every will there is a way. Now, he did not know any other cats named Will, but he found his own way anyhow.
He made sure to eat heavily the night before giving the place the 'ol "see ya later, suckers" and fed his belly with two field mice, a bucket of water and some lovely shards of grass to clear his digestive system.

That is all of this tale for now. To be continued?? What will Tommy's adventure will consist of? Will the story ever get finished??