Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I don't know what it's like,
all I knows is I gots it real cold.
Nothing like look out for better interests
but getting stuck returning home to snows.

Studios got the only heat I gots
lightening it up
and striking the man behind the stories a girls gotta get warm some hows.
Bringing him home.

grass growing
all around my home
out there in the green
o there's a few bones
but what about those
with no skeleton ?
how can you tell if they had any fun?
whatever is missed returns to mystery
let me say Honey
we all doomed to be free

hop skip hop
skip skip hop
hop skip hop
skip skip hop

Ol' Lipo
he's passed out flat
the turtle's in his pond
and the birds are back
I got no enlightenment
but Baby I ain't fighting it

hop skip hop
skip skip hop
hop skip hop
skip skip hop

O Mama gonna talk to the trees
it'll all work it out
take my hand please
we'll go all over the land
like the President says
yes we can

hop skip hop
skip skip hop

That picture saying it all in the moment,
"Mr. Cat, let's laugh that I'm intimately,
suggest infinitely
yours truly."

It's saxophones and fantastic creatures.

What are you going to do to me.

Expect you to be the woman you are.

To be this woman...
hmm first thoughts are gonna be odd thoughts
my mind is curious why I don't dabble more into the current war, current president and politics. Mostly I haven't cause it still seems to bore me, though on brief occasion I'll read something or other of it, if presented in an interesting way.

The way I'm viewing it at the moment is that if ever I regret not looking in on this current happens and disasters and prominent men, then I'll have the vantage of looking at it semi-historically or that I'll have more momentum and desire to truly pay attention on the next ones...

for there'll always be a war going on and a president and such expensive men.
I'll have a huge interest if in the future it'd be something such as a woman president, not that I care one way or other, but I do find out of ordinary more revealing and exceptional to pay better attentions on.

I don't think I'm missing anything though by ignoring it's efforts to clutter my mood with melancholy.

Already melancholy is here
and perhaps that is what I mean by this, no need to look any further for it yet.
I have interests in things others go on to ignore while their minds slip towards the government. I'm concerned for the school systems and early interventions and drugging children with drugs designed for adults that are psychiatric
and heavy. I care a great deal when Jack talks about the school text books
for it makes me wonder what it'll do with our children's minds and future desires. Not that I know what it will do, but I wonder on it.

I'm thinking of cancer and alzheimers, of autism and asperager, of natural medicine and more healthy forms of living such as more walking less auto-motives, healthier food promotion, growing gardens
and learning of herbs, studying lost or dying traditions that may help if need arises like bee keeping, building root cellars, learning canning and climate.
I worry people find me disconnected and therefore uncaring.
When I look inside, I wonder if I'm very uncaring too.

Most people I know are truly concerned with the conditions of the world, with people's conditions and environment. It is rather a childish shrug I parade, I don't know why I'm this unnatural being. I mean I have a big heart, but it isn't the same heart, it's not love I have difficulty with, but empathy maybe. It's as if my heart senses a people's need to go through with it, to be in those moments for it knows even dark, death, disease has a place with engineering change, even a fruitful change...

so perhaps I wait longer to watch if it'll be fruitful,
I might have the patience of a saint
or it could be cruel of me not to meddle more.
I just question everything, I believe.
It is a great magnitude that I stand before in awe and respect
not to always be involved for that wheel you speak of
I see it coming around the bend
and I'm not to be big,
it is greater than me.

My Nana wrote me letters about I have a certain purpose that Jesus has in mind for me,
I knew, but I also knew it could be minuscule,
a tiny dot and here we are. I keep returning to add, this day has got a hold on me. Listening to the blues, too.

If I can't approach a thing cause it's not mine,
then I can't approach it appropriately
without risking the possibility I might muss it up.
My Dad says things like this with me.

Umm, I didn't mean to babble. I guess I got situated in the thought process.

He has the sort of voice I could go to bed on.
Just as an aside thought,
must be the dame.

~And a second thought as soon as I hung up was
wouldn't it be neat if I do avoid all the trouble
and chaotic thoughts it might corrupt within me at a premature staging (for me anyway) and then once I've matured,

if I suddenly become interested, invested on those pompus bastards' trickery and their unjust dealings, then I'll be viewing it with a fresh eye. I wouldn't have been bringing along baggage from an effect from whatever mustering they'd done of me, but I'd be unharmed, undamaged by their handy work and my weapons may be so futuristic that it'll totally catch them unawares and smash their disgusting habits to smitherings!

phew, there we go.
Kinda feminine

But, I am healthy at the moment cause I spend my time with fine men, and women
who haven't corrupted me, but encourage. I'm a lucky lady.

Whew !

I knows it, and I'm sorry.

I saw a spider on the basement wall yesterday and took it as a great omen, cause it was a great big spider. I felt trapped within a panic attack after spraying it ridiculously with (quarter of a bottle of comet cleaner) and it lifted it's ginormous fangs, refused death, seemed to merely suffer momentarily a paralysis. Then, as if it were in the heats of death valley, it slowly inched forward with fangs still thrust out at me.

It was very bracer black and it's shadow across the basement wall was more menacingly evil.

I retreated upstairs and prayed to God to send me a SO, a warrior, who could defeat such devil creatures from my world's existence.

After I went through the motions of the panic attack, suffered in silence, I returned to the basement and smashed it's demonic self with a broom.
I do not feel any better though, for the concern it may send in a war.
The life of an individual woman learning skill to live individually without dependence is at times a tough luck.

First time I gave in and prayed for a helper.

No need to be sorry for all ya wrote. I just enjoy what happens with you so I just went Whew! to let ya know. I mean you usually pack much into a small precise space most of your posts then every awhile in a once you come on with these whole orchestral movements that come out of the deep blue sea. It's not that your biggies leave me speechless it's just that all these words are jammed up in piles on piles on the beach and there's no way I can sort them out I don't even try I just take my three hole finger flute out of my pocket & blow a single note to let you know I heard everything.

Spiders in the cellar are a whole different kind of song. They usually do not answer to chemical compounds the way insects do. Spiders don't freak me too much except for when I wake up with one on the end of my nose. Down to the power station there is this type of spider that builds webs and nests around the entrance doors in the summer when the weather turns warm. The lights at the doors are left on 24/7 and insects are attracted to the light and spiders to the insects. I try to keep them cleaned up only because they are a witness against me if I don't and my charge is that of custodian down there. The female spiders get big if the feeding is good, big enough for me to see the patternings on the top of their abdomens. It is this grouping of triangles all over their bellies that is really fascinating to me to see. In differing shades of brown. Another thing is thinking 'bout the people coming in and out of the station. They all must pass through this symbiotic community of predator & prey because it is all around them on the ceilings & the walls outside the doors. But no one looks around. Sometimes I think it's because they do not want to see because they don't want to think about it. I have the notion sometimes that it's because folks are more likely to insist on a bright shining world instead of a real one. The thing that got me thinking like that was one day last year while I was sweeping down the webs the receptionist came out through the doors on her way home and saw what I was doing and she touched my wrist with her fingers and said to me,
"Thank You" and went on her way out to her car. I was at a loss there for a moment watching her go. Then I realized she was a citizen of a bright shining world & that I was being thanked for my use as a keeper & cleaner & upholder of that world. I looked down at the spiders I had dislodged from their places in a real world that were dashing all around my feet in their legions and said, "Well, there it is, ladies" and swept them off the cement onto the asphalt of the parking lot.

I like that while you may or may not believe in a bright shining world, you do not insist on it and sometimes pray for a warrior to help you but if one does not come you bring the warrior out from inside yourself and deal with a real world in the end.

That's hot, Doll.

mmmhmm, yes.


I think they feast on those huge rollie pollie pill bugs. ha ha
I'm a sissy about them, but I gots to kill them or I won't sleep.

It's like if I had a brick.
If I had a brick, am I gonna put it in the wall or not...
but I just don't know if I do.
I might want it to make my own wall
and it only cost me $.35.

I always like to do this, to say who I'm reading at the time and then see what my own writing is at the time I'm reading theirs.
Reading Richard Brautigan

I think Brautigan and The Beatles. Brautigan, The Beatles, Lewis Carroll and Dr. Seuss. Matching similarities, with table talking and trails. Gonna trail it.

But, I'm not reading anyone right now because I'm hungry.
Cooking rice.

"This book has 186,000 endings a second..."
Richard Brautigan

Yes.

And I'd like to know how to talk to most people who don't understand that.
It's as if most things I say have no importance cause really I picked what to say out of 186,000 things to say in the seconds passing between them and I, therefore the one thing I say isn't at all very important.

Thanks bees u Richard for saying the one thing you said and the other lots of things you said, to help me say one of the things I wanted to say out of the lots of things I wanted to say.

I love Richard Brautigan.