Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

well i could just do-wippy and drop anchor into an attitude being a handful and all but here you are greeting and since i always thought you were cool - mostly -
and since you're still talking up food ... i was always meantful wasn't i? so i greet your solstice too - insight - inside? fishwife, milk-white? nearby crystallize? - every town in the kid is breaking the rules - pin-striped hittite? do we have to talk about Egypt? - just to say what i'm hearing down to the skintight tilting into the curve with the piano in the pit - chronic - prodded by rockets - toppling - trashing out the take, polishing the wash - wonderful room for things - like barking or wallets & prophets - wiping the tide with light with rice for the bride who grew up to have everything she didn't know she wanted -

well, my self-assessment is not bad for one who is (mostly) rusty - ya think?

ok - still dragging the trails out here - good to hear from you

I'll let that dollop of a ninny girl, who with two flecks of fights and fists and sassing all over the over and dones, come assess the day with ascending on the stare. Licks and all, He's got a poke, but she'll due and he'll screw up his frown and need a whiskey poured out with those looks on each steps. Make a smile, I always do.

Missed you and the papers.

She's a knuckle sandwich, but still gots the appetite. He says every bit of feeling's in the food and prolly rights. Getting what never knew and gots heart, how the heck that done and happening, just like that, a stir and what a doozy. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. I never seen it before, but truly is real stuff.

real stuff the do and yeah that - stir doozies and all Mz. Make-A-Smile - it was bad when ya up & up left town - bad ya know - all the sink and no ducks - missed you -
missing you -
you're still such a such & still a girly girl ya know prolly even more than when we did all those ricochets around the inside of our skulls -

Ha! I nevers left, my head goes rocking and rolling, ya knows.
That roast made for a good time solstice and you knows it, nothing like it.

Sure just go ahead and eat without me - care if i see and on the stairs roasted too - bet it was juicy too all signposted and snub-nosed - from a secret house i don't expect you'll be exposed but you always were smoothly unique - still that leaves me as a coolie in an uzi movie eating monkey bread on the side and i have 531 words at my beck & call - words for binding, for dice, for crying, for flight, for strive & thrive - that's not all but vital - and the blade at my hip is not for the mild mile but for the wilds & for any ghost of Atlantis seeking to disturb my calm - as for the rest ya know even if i take the high moral ground it's only for the purposes of lying my ass off when i get there - sure as i know no matter how deep the rabbit hole it's always just beneath the surface so it's everything making me feel like this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5v4q1hUu60o 'cuz you know how much i love the feel of fur and nobody could do it like us no matter how much the however

I'm in a constant process of thinking about things.

― Richard Brautigan

i used to think about things too but one day i discovered i wasn't getting paid to do that - you can starve to death thinking about things - so i quit thinking about things & ain't looked back not even once - and things have been just fine without me thinking about them or they about me -

and tonight i'm reading about richard brautigan - end of a year is always a good time to do that - i've read so much the last couple of days about him from so many different sources that now i'm enlightened & confused - which is one of my favorite places in the whole world - no monk meditating anywhere on the planet is more content than me when i'm in the state of enlightened confusion - which is the clearest state of consciousness any human mind ever gets -

it's the end of Christmas day - nothing has changed - i wrote a poem once i called "Christmas Mary & the Gun Ghosts" years ago - i don't know where it is now and i haven't known it's whereabouts for a good long time - it's like a stillborn grandson who was one of a set of twins within me - you can't say it's gone because it never arrived - you sign the birth certificate for the one & the death certificate for the other all in the same five minutes and ... life goes on -
thing of it is every time you look at the living twin you can't keep from thinking of the dead one - which is the grand central station purpose of life - to remind us of death -

- which is the biggest reason i gave up thinking about things -

yeah brautighan can be a pit of think about it no more, or he can be the greatest thing since sliced pumpernickel.....its been a read for me too past couple daze....totally forgot everything i thought i knew....especially bout han shan....just gonna stick to my 1st thought mind and this pad of drawing paper n pen...wire at the ready....holiday jam kinda like why?....i really dunno anymore....jam used to rock......ugh.....dazed n confused....at least i been selling sculptures....hail mongolia...at least theres 2 jammers left....

at least we got four jammers......that get the reparte, aint that a cool word?

it is it is - crows are jamming in the trees out back - looking at the trash blown off the road today - empty cigarette packs - plastic drink containers - packaging of all sorts - beer cans - all blown off the road and caught in the brush at the edge of the woods - at least as of today - the journey of all of it might not be over yet - yeah, winter's the reading season - been doing a lot of it myself - read an interesting take on Brautigan's Confederate General from Big Sur last night - don't know if they might have belabored the point a bit but most of it sounded good to me where the guy was going with it - i wouldn't have thought of it on my own but ... i wouldn't know how to critique a book anyway - sky was blue, now it's gone gray again - that's about my speed

yeah wax on....wax off .....just read a book i couldnt put down bout a pilgramage to han shans cave on kindle.....got some good poetry insights and the realization that china is choked with air pollution and prostitution, i knew bout the air but not about the availability of paid for sex.....good book with some candid looks at the participants....written in the basho haibun style, travel journals mixed with poetry.....

Thx for the heads up - i'll check it out after i'm done making dinner

yeah it pays to watch my amazon recommendations every once in awhile.....

out drinkin
got some new
keen hiking boots
tomorrow time for
a hike
henry miller birthday
today...113 years young
still my all favorite
made a welded sheet metal
face of henry in '77
that piece opened many doors
for me as an artist
i think its in that storage place
of mine, like some kinda time capsule
everything locked away since '97
kinda nice right now art wise
setting mywork space up slowly
when i need something for music
or art i'll fetch it from the back room
which is crammed
gonna try and keep the front as
showspace and middle room for creating
kitchen a way station to the laundry and back
courtyard, which is funky smokin spot for
visitors....ok chk out that book and i'll be chkn out
red pines yellow river oddyssey another travel adventure
by my favorite han shan translator.....bythe way the chinese dont even dig han shan....
who'd a thunk it....just us and of course the japanese do....

What goes on? I can feel the river getting cold, been curled up gold and the light of the candles casts faces around the wall, up looking up they dance frown laugh hilariously on the ceiling.

A night to stay in warm on.
Bundle up in this kind of weathers.

i thought all them planes was keeping ya warm - they all sky gone & left you with ceiling trapped shadows ? i be bundle with cold rivers though being non-transcontinental - at least your shadows are dancing - i've got some ain't moved in years in decades - i look at them & my toes get cold so i go hunting around for my slippers -

it's actually known where Han Shan's cave is ??