hutchinson-bottled spirit

tonight i am imbibing from an 1800's hutchinson bottle.  i am attracted to certain things and this bottle style is one of those.  i've never seen this bottle before but it has many familiar, likable, tones that i respond instantly to.

i wanted to post this bit of stuff i wrote on the 26th but was unable to do so on facebooks limited "status" feature.  in ways, that is why i miss myspace as a medium for most of my friends and family.  i couldn't care less which of these mediums or methods worked, as long as the majority of those i intend to exchange with are subscribed to using them.

otherwise i could easily just write all these things down collect all the photos i feel to share and then find a nearby forest with arbitrary location and just dump it all there.  and then, only the really deserving of chance would find those words.  nonsense right?  indeed, how far does one take that line of thinking.

but for now here is what i wrote:

we are beings instinctually-tied to comfort, familiarity.  leap years are caulked in, calendars and week lengths are changed (maybe the 7-day should be reviewed?); time and association gifts lots of toys for everyone to play with.  arbitrary?  time is incomplete, it is a relative notion to provide us frames for expression of our observations and findings and statements of life.  space is likewise only relevant and not absolute as we'd like.  our earth spins as our latitudes command, all the while we spin about our solar neighbor, as we spin about our galactic neighborhood through an ever-changing address in the universe (tens of millions of miles displaced each day, x y z's never to be revisited).  but all the while we may have phrases and ideas such as "this was the exact location..." 
relative comfort benefits our shared knows of the lives we wonder in.  cherish, respect, appreciate, and enjoy the fabulous ingredients of existence; think beyond your do and do beyond your thoughts.


i believe i was responding to my frustration at the apparent lack of people who care to think things to any length of discovery.  maybe most people are too afraid of what they'll find.  but no, i don't think they are that aware, and only some of them do enough to find themselves too close to the edge of the world.  only so many learn that way "i'll never do that again."
and it's not just the meathead sports sorts that seem to be a cliche type these days(in commercials and around the lunchroom at works), i am disappointed in the intellectuals, or seemingly intellectuals.
i find that just because a person is "successful" published or "high achieving" does not mean they are a "thinker."  
it is incredibly frustrating!!  

to a certain extent you can only teach or explain something to someone, a human, so much.  humans have limitations to their biological(physical and mental combined) ability as any animal does.  to varying degrees we can employ our ability to learn a method or skill, to copy the actions required to do a thing, to get a result.  but even at that there are those who come up with less than satisfactory results regarding the success in the endeavour.

and i don't expect all humans to be able to be the same as all humans.
the abstract mind can think of things far beyond what reality can deliver - weltschmerz!  dang!
i just want my-sorts to get our crap together and find each other.  we are all out there in the world, time'sa wasting! 

words from m(my sil) somewhat about the above statement:  "those people, we people, we exist as certainly as the abstracts do. other people can seem to occlude us, in numbers and in seeming apathy, but we are out here." 

and regarding the people i am usually in contact with, that there isn't a sense that real communication is cared for, wanted, or felt - that most people ultimately act upon a want to "be heard" or to be entertained.  
also, that the way we think establishes reality. that sure, "it's all in our head" but then everything is in our head, even "given" concepts like time. so then, what is real and what is not? what is weird and what is normal? am i the one with the problem or is it the majority-else?
to that m said: 

"everyone has a problem, even if they don't recognize it, you know that.  comprehension, understanding, observation--all that good stuff, is an easy casualty."


my drink is done.  the night is young.  "my" night is young since i work the moth-shift(any customized shift that is neither a conventional "split-shift" or "night shift" but that still occurs in the darker hours mostly.)

most people don't seem to sense the effects of existence.  of perception and perspective.  of the world and it's prickle and tickle and meals of course.  "of course!"
i want thinkers and askers and those who demand "right" overeasy.  i want to share that breakfast we.
no more mournings spent with in/un-sensitive sorts who have better things to do than enjoy all existence and not just the blunt obvious artifacts.

 

accoutrement

shoes arrived just before christmas.  fortune, in a fortuneless time.  or a time with many failed endeavours.  but while the endeavours-failed, the experience is without value.  i have gained much observation and result.  i sense an enriched wisdom present.

if i failed to update this note, my eyeglass frames arrived and so soon i will fill the prescription.  money.  but things are on schedule or slightly ahead of.

fantastic sales at old navy netted some nice coverings for the coming chill(fortunately i know of certain locations that move my sizes and styles slower than others).  so far, the winter has been warm.  but winter is young yet and though the yield for snow may be frustratingly low, the chill does not care and will freeze our butts off just the same.

my beard continues it's journey, now - since the second week in october.  i just let it be what it will be. i try not to get in the way of it's nature.  
i find that i am a bit repulsed by decision and fuss of purpose and, well, basiclaly the human state of "me" and "mine" and "what i want"
i make do and tolerate this since i have the same feelings of "me."  i am "human."  we all have that state.
but i  don't feel so aligned or "easy" with  the emotion i observe versus the one that feels right or "easy" to me.  instincts such as emotion or breathing are not ones we struggle over to create.  we may influenece them after a time, learn their science, but for me when it comes to choice, i have a troubling layer.

jewelry.  i don't wear it necessarily.  hair styles?  not necessarily.  if i chose to cut then i am self-ish.  self-serving.  sure it is instinct to groom, to be healthy, to survive, etc. etc.
but there is a sense, a reaction, an emotion in me that does not like the sensation.
that i "like" something almost seems a choice.  a "me"ness.   
i live and sense, "liking" something is an observation of what one is familiar, attracted to, comfortable with, is conducive to or that brings positive results for the individual or what the individual assigns importance to.

some things, humans react negatively to if the nature is altered (piercing) while other things humans react negatively to if the nature is not altered (shaving).
and these ideals or ideas or associtions or whatever, are so fleeting.
i look at the "costumes" of the two last centuries.  i look at how we associate periods and times and romanticize stories by those costumes, those looks, periods of time now complete abstracts to all those living.  well anything 1930 and older.  only the living currently can express or appreciate the cosmogony, their bracket in time.  as they die, those brackets disappear.  recorded history even in the detail we have today cannot capture, for the new individual or the one existing outside of the bracket, the course of that context, that "personal bracketed cosmogony."

times change.  time is an abstract, it is relative.  we detect the changes assigned to the effect of time.  our perception of the indication that time exists.
words change meaning, clothing changes...  trends.  choice to subscribe or not to subscribe.

what a mess, i think.  so much fuss, i often say.  but it is the "way" of the bracket is it not?
and i'm continually in joy of it.  i sense it even when i cry out against it.  maybe i don't feel it is all right. it all often feels incomplete, failing to really capture what is going on.  or maybe it's that i'm surrounded by people who don't care or realize what is going on.  that they don't care to ask or question or search or discover.
maybe i'm  suffering rough edges from not enough like-minded rhythms around me.  no oil for my motors activity.

but somehow i persist.  not "somehow" because there is no question to why.  what i know is that "i work"

i am this way, that i am.  how far, how long does one question that?

am i questioning it now?   no, not really.  i am curious though.  but that is inherent.

i am material.  atoms perhaps.  bits.  stuff.  the same as what i observe.  

we each have this brain, this  "entity" physcally bound or enabled.  it exists amoung the mass of matter we call the human being.  the "body."

i move my hands each day and it is frightfully amazing. i can feel my pulse, i sense the movement of the universe.  i around it, or it around me?  science may prove all it wants, but what is science?  what is real?

does the continua exist regardless of our crap?  or does it all exist because of our crap?

i turn to share these happening thoughts with someone, this stuff of oddly-hidden pulses of the brain.

not until i take action, that is tangibley receivable, is any of it revealed, but revealed in wholly different ways - for the written word is not the way it originally appeared in my mind.  that stuff in the mind is unrecordable - for now. 

i must speak or write or record so that these thoughts may be shared.  because even at that, i have no one around me to receive these interpreted bits when i turn to phrase.

painting helps. drawing helps. finding mediums of expression. maybe that is why some of us become artists.  or display "artist" behaviour.  we just "need to" - it is a side effect, one could say, of the biological state or evolving genetic line that is in effect. 

this blog is labeled "exhaust" because it feels like that is what is happening.  expression in whatever form is an exhaust for the abstracts experienced in the mind. 

and once expelled there may be direct or indirect influence but the exhaust becomes static regarding it's existence in the mind - mainly , because it is no longer "in the mind" but "in the world" and separate from the mind's physical workings.  i tend to call exhaust "crap" or waste or trash, etc.  it is a statement of situation and not personal commentary.

so i will continue to express these ideas from my mind.  put them to tangible situation.   in whatever forms i am able to.

white noise

the "artist" i hope to be,

that i always have been

a hueman
is one that does not learn to paint
does not learn to be "artist"
does not have any singular purpose
but rather a purpose entire.
to live, and share, and reflect, and connect
and communicate and disseminate
those collected and experienced moments
of the abstracts of the mind
in the past, of the future, and with the present
-
to do so, utilize the surround to articulate
tangible currencies for exchange between the realms
of each of us. . . and whole of us.
whatever means to mean whatever needs.
-
a hue man "is" because of why? of what?
because they are published? represented?
raise high auction or attention?
because word or phrase exists to classify?
because they are known at all?
indeed, the artist makes quite a disturbance
even bereft of audience.
that an audience is enabled notice at all
is ultimately benefit to the audience, not the artist
-
an artist is the pearl no matter the beast
they are caste by

thus, it is the already-connection that benefits the

artist,  a benefit not sought - already ingredient felt

and known

perfect

i want to be as close to "black" as possible.  "possible"?
"as can be," then.
black as in "nothing."  as in "everything."
continua, the "always"
abstract befores and after, or our perception and ableness to dwell on them - confuse
or do they?  are the answers there?  always there? never there.
black is without spoil. black is initial, and whole.  white is stain and action and mess and fuss.
black is purity and all, not fragmented pieces holed up with intent and tions.
shuns? ..prevail in our human-intellected age.
instinct prevails with it's sex-induced propagation
but i am not so enabled with instinctual patrons.

litote commoner

all these compilations - age, incomplete times - ongoing.
i remain, myself.  despite myself.  never me, always change
rattles in the pocket.
upon the picks and knits of others, i remain
myself
but changing myself
amoung others
despite others
nothing to effort
every the effort demanded
but without condition

red seamer my

my bowler hides the cube
safely, softly, swiftly
i am protected by the same as that prevents
a mirror of tricks
a mirror that know balance despite intellects destruction
like the footsteps of instinct, my mirror in c'd keys feeds balance with instinctual confidence.
sex will out despite the grandioste plans of human intellect and so-called cultures.

fo' shoe

i had forgotten that i hadn't ordered my shoes yet!  additionally, i'd forgotten to write down on this blog-smear, that i had ordered my spectacles and they've arrived, just.

so i put in my order for some shoe.  i use zappos.  in the past there was another site i'd found that was cheaper than zappos, and between the two stores there were many styles available that neither would have had by themselves.  but over the last four years or so, i've come to like zappos.  perhaps a smidge of familiarity, some of it is the consistent feeling i receive from the design, functionality, service, range of styles available, and up-to-date-ness.

so shoe is on the way.  we'll see if all this christmas decemberist shopperism will slow the arrival of my new sole.
have to find a good optometrist to fill my prescription.  i don't just want any ol' shop.  i want a shop like the one i had found that closed a few years back.  they were so comfy.  a nice peculiar shop with huge spectacles outside for their sign.  i guess they were too peculiar.  visibility was not an issue.  just, maybe, they were too high-end coolness.

i had a rough weekend.  i fell down hard in ways.  but i'm still here.  the battle is an embrace, and i'm learning myself all the time.  new angles, new reflections.  realizations are vibrant these days.  i keep the momentum strong, it's important.  progress by action.  activity reveals much results which leads to much more stuff to make actions by.

oh, and dang it - rain again.  i've been waiting for snow.  i have the sleds a'ready, but no snow.  i've been looking forward to just the snow, something in me is not really caring about all this holiday stuff this 'round.  i like the season, i love the artifacts of culture and the fussery of all the do's of people.  i like the gaudy and kitsch of christmas and it's aggregated and confused state of association.
but for me, this year, just the snow.
i don't like being cold though.

otsu

乙(otsu) often appearing as a radical with other characters, this chinese/japanese character has been with me for some time. it can modify or mean all kinds of things, just like any word or character or piece of expression can do- especially when crossing over cultural or conventional lines. witty, with style, "b," ranking second, odd, quaint - these are some of the english equivalents to help describe what this conveys. "otsu" is not the only way it is spoken either; that depends on what characters it is radical to or placed amoung.

but i don't know japanese, so i will leave all of that research and curiosity to you to look up.

today, i am writing to talk about dinosaurs. specifically to express how, for whatever reasons, i tend to, or it turns out upon observation or discovery, that i like the odd, the rarefied, the quaint, the niche nook and shadow of things. i am not solely this way, but - on average, this is something that keeps occurring with me.

i remember when i was in my single digit ages feeling odd or that something was incomplete(my word i use now) or simply "not entirely right" when, in class there would be represented all manner of animal or idea but - not "all" that i felt or knew of. when the schools were teaching us about giraffes and deer and lions and elephants i was wanting to know more about kiwis and tapirs and other animals i could not name but had seen during my many travels to the library with my mom.

even later on in middle school and high school there was a very limited scope of information given about the world or ideas being discussed. this didn't change my curiosity and habits of discovery, if anything it showed me how important it was that i continue to self-study and ask everyone as many questions as i ever could.

often information or what someone says, professional or personal is full of leans and bias. and that's fine, generally it is not a mystery that we each are simply speaking of our own experience, filtered through what we each consider to be real. this can be overlooked however, especially if there is pressure from backers or supporters of what you are presenting - there is then pressure to support what you say or publish as absolute truth. confidence is good- important, but there is a balance to how you present something when sharing information or discovery.

dinosaurs though~
my earliest favourites were probably not dinosaurs at all but ancient sea reptiles(something they didn't teach at the time - everything was a dinosaur) such as tylosaurus or some sort of mosasaur. my first report and dinosaur fully researched was of deinonychus. this would've been around 1980 or 1981. i was captivated by the illustrations i had discovered (old gouache illustrated books from the 50s and 60s no doubt - i can still see the flying dinosaur with it's claw), but also in what i read about the dinosaur.

but short of being popular, the odd are left to be found by those who go searching for them. generally it is no accident or serendipity that i find the things i do. i could be dramatic or romantic and say that it is chance or serendipitous, but the facts support that the reason i will find odd things is because i'm looking for them(directly or indirectly). because i ask, and search, explore i inevitably discover equally odd hiding places of things related or not.

these peripherally-indirect discoveries happen all the time, every day. some more substantial, where they reveal whole ranges of paths to then research, while others are easily followed up on in one or two queries.

ancient creatures i love:

einosaurus: discovered in the mid 1980s but not named until later, this is probably one of the most irritating dinosaurs on my list. its rarity is not the sort that attracts attention. people may like the rare for rare or "being different"s sake, but not with good ol' einy. nope. this dino continues to be under-rendered and illustrated, though the united states did publish a stamp awhile back spotlighting this particular dino. as a note, there is argument about the differences of ceratopsids(dinosaurs with horns that look like triceratops) because some believe that some of the identified species are age variations of the same species.
my favourite dinosaur illustrator doug henderson, illustrated some drowned einosuars in 1988. i'd post a picture here but i don't have it digitally at the moment. i'll post a picture of it in a separate post later on so it's current as well as post it to this particular posting.

tylosaurus: not really rare but not as well talked about as plesiosaurus, elsamosaurus, or the big mouthed mosasaurs. tylo, is believed to have been a kind of ancient monitor lizard-like that returned to the sea.

platybelodon: a prototype (not necessarily ancestor) to the modern-day elephant, this guy existed during the miocene (a favourite time period of mine as well) from 5 to 20+ million years ago. lots of large and fantastic mammals during this time. many artists renderings of this creature have been very neat. there is still debate on the shape of it's face and possible trunk because of the various scar/markings on the skull from tendons and other attachments. i still like the short scooper nub that is illustrated with this creature. it's charming.

orthocone: a massive creature(cephalopod) that used to swim the paleozoic seas(mostly). my favourite ancient creatures are in the oceans.  i was captivated early-on by many of the underwater illustrations of ancient creatures or dinosaurs.  i probably have charles knight and zdeněk burian to thank for that.

retrato de gabrielle

i recently completed a portrait.  a sort i have never done before; using a medium ground.  the last portrait of this sort was about 9 years ago but i did not spend the same sort of time for detail.  my portraiture is sporadic and inconsistent but i know i can do it.  even though, when i am laying down the values i often feel like it's all going to mush-up.  but i trust my eye, and eventually it all comes together.

i forget how many hours into this i am at this point.  up to this point i was working 2.5 to 3 hours each session.  maybe this is the third session?  i'ma slow artist.  i don't practice or do enough portraits so i'm not suprised by my speed.

i had to use my phone camera to document these photos so please forgive the compression artificats.  still, this closeup gives some feel as to the texture present in the portrait.  from a distance it continued to come along pretty well.

i would continue to make "distance checks" to make sure nuances were coming through.  my eyes started to "white out" or flash because i wasn't taking enough breaks.  so in addition to making the "checks" i actually did have to get up and walk around.  don't you hate that!?  haha

the above is perhaps the fourth session.  after this i'd go back and forth between adding more values to the shadows in the right side of the face to filling in the hair and trying to grab those subtle curls in the darks of the hair.  i took this photo because i simply wanted to catch the face once i completed it.  for no documentary or practical reason except, i really like this person.  and it was much like any photograph i am compelled to take - it is a response to quelling that expressive emotion that occurs in your spirit.

the portrait was rendered on canson mi-teintes steel gray paper. i used a 9x12" piece of machine-cut bond paper to cut out the piece from the canson sheet.

initially i started with graphite pencils, but i illustrated too many values with them before i started in with the prismacolors. fortunately i was able to use the graphite and mix it in with the warm grays i used. in addition to the prismacolor warm grays i also used white and black. instead of using tortillons(blend stumps) i opted to use various values of grays to blend with. this canson-select paper held up pretty well under all my value layering. i think i laid down 5-8 layers of value. i underestimated the necessity to really dig in the white and i didn't get the highlights as high as wanted them but i compensated with another layer of shadow.

"once" (title ~ multi-lingual homonym [spanish for "11" and english "in the past"])
started 11 the 16 2011 completed 7:05am 11 the 24 2011. total draw time 15.5 hours.
final dimensions: 9x12" (above image cropped)
fixed with grumbacher final matte fixative (which, dang - fixative is always expensive and i'm not gonna use hairspray)

expression on the ear

a real quick fun for you,

lee bontecou untitled 1960

nesath

nesath is a pretty well known giant in knot.  amoung all the loom giants he is probably the only one really known at all.  knitting leagues of batting at a time, tatting stray notions, and folding over those sides of cloud that have lost their comfort; nesath is the main representative of the loom he only partly contributes maintenance to.

today i want to share some abstract photographic sketches i created as a tribute to this well-liked but immensely daunting being.

the loom giants have their ancient ways of things, but one thing they do well, by design or as byproduct, is that they recycle and mend and keep the loom together.  in knot, for most, this is the central entryway.  it is generally where most people find themselves in knot, though most do not realize it. 
because of that innocent state, most are vulnerable to those that would exploit the essence or energy present in the loom.

the loom giants do not stop this exploitation, but they do keep the loom intact through all the "amendments" that occur from all those who visit as well as the endless contacts between the boog and the chizarro.

the loom, usually manifesting as clouds or fog, is a delightful place on it's own.  one could get lost in the dreams of others in that place.  but it is the boog who spoil such indulgences; at least, ones of any length.  maybe some of us who overindulge should thank the boog.  however, i don't think it's a good idea to support something negative like that in favour of your own shortcomings.

besides, the boog love the lazy, the weak, the unfulfilled.

i'll share more soon.  for now~     i fly!

exit-day philosopher

so here in the office i work, i regularly interact with a few associates to coordinate work and get necessary information for the night adventures of the insurance world. when i go to get the overview of the nightly itinerary and other bits, there are some fellow associates in the vicinity that i engage in mild pleasantries. of which, sometimes turn to mild stokes of philosophy.

i suppose november was a rough month for philosophical leans, because i was notified today that a couple-few of those associates had wondered where their end-of-day philosopher had gone. that i’d “been kind of quiet.” that i usually have interesting things to say or reveal.

it is curious how you can know something about yourself, know that others are also connected to you and that “it’s” not just about you, but still fall down on perhaps even the simplest efforts. actually, i thought i have been doing pretty well considering the stuff going through my mind recently, lots of flux and change, lots of exercising of habitual demons, etc.

it’s nice that i have a relative professional office-spaced rapport enough to have people communicate stuff like the above to me. connection and reflection help to keep one’s balance, to give gauge or key to stay on the right current.

burri

alberto burri.

is another artist i discovered while research now rarified books printed in the 60s and early 1970s about the moderns, and abstracts, and expressionists of the 40s through the 70s.

like bonevardi and beksiński, burri speaks to me easily.  i feel him or receive him easily.  his life, his tries, his paths, his stories, his expressions left behind.  there is something about that "easy" flow - it is not something that says "you don't need to pay attention to me, put any effort." in fact, you give yourself to the tasks and chores and work and energies asked for by the experience of the connection.

a great book that i recommend is out of print but can be found on abebooks from $80ish to $200.  it's called "alberto burri" with text by maurizio calvesi.  the isbn is:  0-8109-0232-x

and it is a nice thick book with the nice biographical stuff and talks and examinations of the artist.

this is a nice little web site to visit

http://www.museomadre.it/bio_show.cfm?id=108

bonevardi

i had first discovered marcelo bonevardi from researching through old books of art from 1900 to about 1970. i like argentina even despite all the nasty they've gone through in their kind of recent history. but it was "coincidence" that marcelo is from there, though that he is adds something extra to my reception of what he has shared.

i have his main and really only book published, (http://www.utexas.edu/utpress/books/bonbon.html) you can get it on amazon for pretty cheap (http://www.amazon.com/Bonevardi-Chasing-Shadows-Constructing-Art/dp/029271436X)

and i really do recommend this book with the highest i'm-stuck-on-a-deserted-island regard.  it was prepared with love for the artist and not just another curated or aggregate-curator/museum-let's-publish-something-about-this-artist book.  apologies for the negative tone of that delivery, i really don't intend it to sound that way.  i just want you to know that this is not one of those types of books.  and it is so great that the book has so much passion in it's creation considering it is probably "thee" source book for bonevardi (though not all of his work is included).

there is that quintessential question put out there in humanity "who would you like to meet" usually paired with "dead or alive" - i hadn't really had anyone in mind up until i discovered marcelo.  i simply - like all people and can easily be captivated and enamoured by their individual charms and ways and things (to varying degrees of course).
but dang;   consistently - endlessly, like a faucet rusted shut by poseidon himself with all the nereids floating about giving you that great read into the heart of such a miraculous individual; my soul flushes well with such flow of expressions.

and so, without thought i easily say marcelo would be someone i would specifically look forward to meeting.

i said this on a facebook post of bonevardi's work:



"marcelo is my favourite artist. i don't choose this, it is a consistency created by those things that make up experience, life. i simply acknowledge it's grandeur and to respect it's importance - share it."

i thank you marcelo, for sharing so much, for persevering in the new york school to become yourself and not derivative facsimile.  the experiences generated in me from witness of the artifacts you have left warm me greatly when i need warmth; cool me down when i am too heated.

a fellow human ~ mzocoxito.

http://www.marcelobonevardi.com/

beksiński

i wanted to make sure that i shared this here on my blog. i had originally done so on facebook and perhaps myspace. maybe not myspace. but regardless, i hope that this may speak to someone, that beksiński speaks to someone who needs his speaks.

i wrote this on facebook and i liked the way it came out: "not only does his work dig holes in our commonplace-comforts to allow us passage beyond our own headlights in the fog, but this web site is particularly nice in presenting his shared stuffs"

the web site has music created by zbigniew preisner who has worked with another favourite of mine ~ krzysztof kieślowski.

http://www.beksinski.pl/

tickery tock

memory is like a tick on a pillow

all cried

we felt butterflies

when we fall

we may forth and more


[author commentary – “parasitic phrasing”:  “we felt butterflies when we fall” and “when we fall we may forth and more”

sentimento undulato

sentimento undulato, a photo by sr. mzocoxito on Flickr.

once, a portrait. a promise made. a photographic maquette exploring an incident of mood and mind.

sow the ends of a sad-sack

for fun, i calculated my own sad-sack date of death. or rather, the date that i would have to die on in order to not have a sad-sack death. this date occurs the furthest from my birthday but just shy of being over the halfway mark to my next birthday. this was based on or in response to the socio-conventional regard of the idea/expression “they died before their birthday.” usually it is a day before the birthday or wedding, etc. that has the most emotional or psychological impact from this scenario but i thought "how far does that extend?"

we will always die before a birthday as well as we will after a birthday. but to answer that arbitrary socio-bracketed concern, then one must die 5 months, 3 weeks, 6 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds after their birthday (estimated to seconds only, leap year and other mathematical exceptions not adjusted for) for them not to have a sad-sack almost-birthday death.

for those curious, this means i have to live until or die on the evening of september 15. the year? well we’ll just see about that.

ha-ha ~ shooot.

el hechicero

tonight i have made some good progress on my shared brews.  i continue to learn and i continue to breathe easier.  balance comes back to me.  and in that, i look to sharing it with those i am connected to; as well with anyone that feels to connect with me.

i feel what's important.  do i "know" it? - sure, it can be said that way too. 
either way, it is the "priority" -  my "actions" that i put my spells behind.  "importance" or what's "important" can exist while also being neglected.  it is in the priority or action that realizes the importance or value we place in life and it's stuffs.

all these years- the silver of my mirror has come to be made of binary scarps of toothed scrap and crumb.  it can seem so incredibly unlikely that our reflection can be as pure as we know it can be.
but more and more, and perhaps it's not something that, i have to come to know - rather, it is something i have to exercise.  it's been with me all this time, i've known it and felt it all this time.  and i feel it getting stronger all the time.  in each day and moment of my efforts and pains, my priority becomes more resilient and adaptive.
i feel the resonant burst of reciprocal gift, i know it is true.  not because i can test it and trust in a result but because i can feel the expanse by its product.

in my life up until the elevens, i had never known this kind of feeling.  i had imagined it, made scenario of it, animated the collections of those i've observed into dolls to play out the empathy.
and my own mind almost spilled that philter.  but i have been fortunate.
now my brow finally knows the burn of those limelights.

a bright glows wholly in me.  it grows now that i have accepted it fully.  never with condition, but now - fully.

alma gemela

awhile back i posted an entry titled "sentimento undulato."  the title (not the entry) was inspired by a story shared to me by my soul mate.  it was about, if i remember right, an italian or perhaps spaniard(in spain) saying "avanti" to his girlfriend or perhaps wife.  i instantly was enamoured by the sentiment, the experience i enjoyed when i heard it and felt it.  it made me feel like so many other feelings i've received in life, but especially so this time- i was made hyper sensitive to the go's of life as it was happening.

to feel the textures of life specifically without effort but with a demand of effort that is freely and willingly given ~ it is a balanced state to be in when that happens.
over the fall i've come to refer to this as "sentimento undulato."  which simply means a "corrugated feeling."  to me "corrugated" is cozy, it is intimate, it is strong, it is fundamental and has a valuable foundation. a rich core.
but it is also temporary and can fail.  and that is ok.  because when we are gifted with that sensation, freed by our own clouds to see that expanse so close to us, we are left not alone but fulfilled beyond ourselves.

i am made incredible~

by my soul mate.

batt last

now i remember what the batt lasts were called:  nithes [nie-ths].  the finishing last for a batt is called a paught [powt].

turns of the canopy

the local maples fell into crazy over the weekend

the airs mad with confetti

exhilarant

batt

i cannot remember what they called it, but i went to the pitherie and picked up a batt(pillow) form to try out.  they had "off-the-shelf" models to choose from but i was more enamoured by the blank forms or lasts that they had.

the batt form that i picked up is used to begin the process of finding one's rhythm with knot.  perhaps it is a level of belief, mainly in one's self, but ultimately it is a level of connection one has with knot.  the traditions of the pitheries began as a practice lent by the chizarro to help to accent or nuture one's own "belief" in or connection to knot.
over time, the process of batt pithing has come to be a very elegant and exacting one. the batts created in a pitherie reflect the individual they are made for.  what may seem to be embellishment is not for decoration.  what may seem like plainness is not for minimalism or economy.  there is no purpose or designs on the look of a batt.  it is a matching of manifested elements to one's rhythm or connection in knot.

i also learned that, over time, or through experience the batts themselves will change their own appearance, matching who they were made for. once made they require no mending or additional sizing.

for me, however, i just wanted one of the forms. something about them seemed to need me.  or perhaps i needed them.  maybe it wasn't a matter of need at all, rather an event that occured that most might call a moment in destiny.

i cannot remember the sizing jargon, but i picked out a nice medium-weighted batt in what looks equal to a queen-size pillow.  it moves well and seems to have a nice pairing with the level of strata i am familiar with.

the last (or form) lasts indefinitely.  it is difficult to wrap my head around this aspect, but in that is why the batt was developed by the chizarro and shared with those in knot.  to help one's own belief or acceptance of what is possible in knot; to find that unhindered open channel to the energy of knot and realize it's full potential in you.

mr. clean

i’m not embarrassed to say i’m drowning when finally the knuckles break and the cancer leaps away
it is the skin smolt before erosion smote.
his tetrad skin eyeless before the ink. overwhelmed, the side by side makes it one.

edible

the infinite morsel is attractive to me. it is my surround. “it” is not it, not singular but whole but part. these breakdowns and buildups of boundaries and form fascinate my brain stuffs bewildered and overwhelmed. consistently, constantly, tirelessly, unrelenting; an insistent eyeless beast popping me with its static discharges and ambling pounds.

the shadows of my surround, the grays in my peripheral, the blacks and whites of my parallel and fore, and the prism of my aft are all my joyned chums; my old pals with fats to chew and fires to stoke.

my behoove is befuddled asunder a hack-shaed shag. tuft-wondereds hit my synaptic altitudes whilst sole and toe keep sod familiars.

". . . life is all kinds of ways, the way now is not set. we continually adjust and choose our days and moments. it’s an open story we write. and that is a gift of existence."

freedom

a wholesome balance in life is not to be understood, but to understand (others)
and with grace and passion, to share your dynamic for the good of all.

clarity through the clouds of communication

“brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio.
(when i labor to be brief, i become obscure.)
quintus horatius flaccus (from horace’s ars poetica c. 18 bc)

“homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.”
(i am human, so nothing that is human is foreign to me.)
publius terentius afer "terence”

argumentum ad hominem “ad hominem”
is an attempt to negate the truth of a claim by pointing out a negative characteristic or belief of the person supporting it. often described as a “logical fallacy” it is not always fallacious; in some instances, questions of personal conduct, character, motives, etc., are legitimate and relevant to the issue.

the philosopher charles taylor has argued that ad hominem reasoning is essential to understanding certain moral issues, and contrasts this sort of reasoning with the apodictic reasoning of philosophical naturalism.

halo effect
ad hominem arguments work via the halo effect, a human cognitive bias in which the perception of one trait is influenced by the perception of an unrelated trait, e.g. treating an attractive person as more intelligent or more honest. people tend to see others as tending to all good or tending to all bad. thus, if you can attribute a bad trait to your opponent, others will tend to doubt the quality of their arguments, even if the bad trait is irrelevant to the arguments.

see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ad_hominem

and
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halo_effect

(wikipedia and internet triangulated sources)


 

dust battles in the asthmatica primes

my journey through the clogged corridors continues.

i have had some narrow escapes from croomb’s nasty iron toast. it never gets old with that beast.
i am not as strong as i once was, and so, i have to – i must keep note of my atrophy.
i have no problem acknowledging it, but to right myself in the way i must, i have to keep it in mind.
it is not something so easily thought away.

my skills and ability to wield them are strong, but they are somewhat undermined by that same atrophy; perhaps “diminished” is a better word.
but i feel stronger all the time. brighter. i continue.

croomb is an unrelenting creature however. and so i have to keep my momentum at high levels. even when i am stronger it will require great integrity on my part to keep it in that quilted state of befuddlement that i’ve been able to manage.

let’s hope the sooch doesn’t show up anytime soon.

hues of compliment

if she is my tiff then i am her jpg. we have our tychs but our pixels blend into a seemless mosaic.

snak

tonight we(co-workers) were treated to chinese sausage said to be unavailable in the area. the sausage was just flown in (brought back) from california. normally i'm not big on wasabi peas.  but tonight with all the work, i was in those kinds of moods, i call "slappy," and besides - "why not"?  so i got some peas and ate them with bites of the sausage and it "hit the spot."  not only was it tasty in it's own right but given the mad pace of work the night has had, it flavour combination was equally suited to the situation. garlic peanuts were brought back too. i'd never had those.  not bad.

i'm not a big peanut fan. but my moods will cross paths at times.

your hand

~let's fly

in the aperture of curtains

well you know what?

i was wrong

and that broke time

but i’m just going to be here

and be here

and hear    and say

and there    and ways

and whots and wheres

for you~

times fun

~is we.

regardless of our funks

those moods.

besides our pains,

our moots.

i love our soup.

it may be strange, may not be likely

but the aroma confesses the truth

contrast and blend makes it so

in the end

simple

there is an unsung passion in the things we do. i believe we all do them, perhaps, they simply are not announced; no fanfare, no blog, no commentary. those things of passion, of determined channeling of who we are, widely go without notice. why is that? because the mind is focused not on the advertisement or the act of the event, the mind is focused on those it is connected to. the task it is connected to.
“doing” does not necessarily involve that passion, that warmth. but not doing definitely fails to warm.

“being” with determination. questioning the air. smiling the moment.
the textures in life are not so easily contained in books and even in the spoken word or ambled gesture. life is many things, all things, all ways; as simple as it is complicated. and i love that. and i’ve known it. and i’ve neglected so much of that knowledge and way. i keep writing it out here, or otherwheres, to remind myself as well as to put it out there for anyone else in audience.

i see passion and human warmth in: the opening of an oven door, the hurried pace to deliver a thing, the training for athletics or of academic skill, the sticking of stamp, the making of tortillas, the kissing of a cheek , the finding of sock or book before late to school or work. that human texture has been symbolically embodied in the red accents i don here and there, especially in my hats. and i have much shoe to fill, or – hat.

one of my favourite vignettes that makes me mush every dang time, is in the “subtle favour.” the connection between minds that produces this kind of act is strong. one can feel it if nearby, in witness to it.
i can feel my warmth-dynamic radiate when it happens. it’s catchy stuff.

slurpy

i’m told that my surname is a “slurpy” name.  and when i think on it, yeah, it is that.

other names may be chewy or fat, or dense, or hazardous, but mine is slurpy.  however, since i haven’t been able to prove my blood-line surname, i have a variety to choose from.  i can either elect to go with my father’s adopted name “villescas” or one of two other possible surnames “jimenez” or “lorea.”  all are dubious however.  but it all fits with my being up to now and in continuance- that my life is full of ambiguity and vaguery.

my task or goal now though, is to be a medium or broker to that abstract nebulae.  a conduit to share it all.  perhaps i’ll never find out my origins, but i am not so attached to those sorts of things anymore.  especially not now.  i’ve learned a great and painful lesson, the greatest in my life.  not a maybe, i know it is the greatest.  and i have gained an awesome perspective of myself and my being.  my dynamic is potent but it had been disconnected before.  what good is that?  what vitality can come of that?  there is no reflection in a mirror that shares no light back. 

so when i talk of my “cleaning” it is not just of stuff, the tactile plane; it is of all things.  it is not an artificial change in actions – that stuff is temporary, ultimately artificial.  this cleaning is to achieve the clarity i need to share my life with others.  to share my mind openly and with wholesome saturation.

bcet cotsy t gan

[gan battles couch]
{b}set kawt’see t{eh} {c}hwan

the above does not follow any articulatory phonetic standards or semiotic alignments. basically the {b} is silent or like the “m” in mnemonic. the “t” with the {eh} is pretty much like a grade-schooler sounding out the letter “t.” and {c}hwan is a sort of back of the throat sound or swallowed sound like the “g” in argentina or like the “ch” in chava.

the knot’ch (knotish) language is a funny one. it started out as “gibberish” (as my aunt put it in my preteens – they call it “tweens” now) but has developed over the years into what i simply call “knot” or “that twist of language parts.” i love english/american, but there are so many cool parts and tongue out there. i tend to work them all in along with my own ingredients. and poof!

but the “battle” . . .

after a few errands early on i set back into the front; on the battle lines; whooping artifact and coin for that longed-freedom. it’s going well. lost some soldiers but more arrive every day for the cause.
it is a sight to see- cumulonimbus on whorled fire. it is awe striking.

the thing about the imagination: if you set it to task, it is unrelenting. because the stuff behind imagination is infinite. and for me, perhaps especially so since i have an over saturated state of it. so there’s no shortage of mental resources.

the cotsy, however, are infinite. why? because they come from all people, and once established they multiply even when devoid of a source of imagination. it is said they feed on hope and ambition. but not a malicious feeding, it’s just their nature.
so it can be a real bugger to face them head-on.

fight!

jacket - got

cleaning - more done

new phone - on the way

paintings - strokes continue 

lots to do, but progress- yes, there is that.  

additionally:

shoes - replacements needed soon. goal: one month to buy new same pair of pf-flyers in construction-paper red

pres. eyeglass frames (new with filled prescription) - expensive.  i've dragged my feet on this far too long.  they are important, i mean my eyes(ight).  goal is set to no later than mid-december.  there are some nice dark tortoiseshells that i've had my eyes on for some time. 

restring mandolin - slated for later on, a friend helped so now it's done.

practice my pillow fighting techniques.  rusty - need a nice trainer pillow.  but until i get one, i'll continue my stratas (like kata 型 {form} but, you know - for pillow fighters).

[for dramatic fun]
the battle continues!

sentimento ondulato

every morning i must take my bocks out. it’s corrugated intentions are very immediate in the mornings’ early. “but i’m still asleep,” i tell it. does it care? not-in-the-least. but it doesn’t even know it is an element to care about. it’s brown instincts and random labeling command it to seek out that perfect spot to lay it’s styrofoam keepings; it’s extra stuffs. “a relief,” i think to myself as it scoots about the earth. but at times, it takes a dang-long time to decide on such urgents. around we go, me looking out for post-mens who might try to collect my bocks, and bocks – getting distracted over immigrating trashes and visiting tossles.

but in the end i am simply happy to know bocks with it’s ciphery skin and peely tape parts. bocks likes taking trips to people i know. it loves this. we have our funs and it’s tough to see bocks go. but it is only a temporary go.

and the inbetweens keep me sensitive; reminding me of my values.

mattress bellows monster

i am not a “painter.” that is, my expressive alignment is not solely to the digms of bristle and pigment; but i’ll say that it really doesn’t matter what i use to wrangle the expressive abstracts. i'll grab all-whots to pinch that reality to shares-devoured. i am sure that somewhere in the celestial, moon and gas are finding new origins at every act of passion that grasps the tangent.

what is in that peripheral, that unfamiliar? you best look, because you’ll be amazed.

in vigor

in the brilliant second; there is a guess, a wonder, a connection between our universes. in that second-manner we discover our relevance amoung the whole. it seems ridiculously simple and excitingly complicated. the contrast creates the blend, the disparate gifts the treasured reflection of that pure-silvered connection.

it is magnificent and we may thrive into the wilds of unknown turns and curious corners by it.

nascently

i am a being of emotion. feeling. i am not design- or rule-oriented, not purposefully or necessarily against though. i follow nature. mine, others, collectively – nature. i have my intellectual insinuations that can get away from me, and i’ve struggled with their intrusions over the years. but since 2003 i’ve been in a new place of conquer possibility- to force the hand that wants that nice soft couch-end.

by design, i’ve failed to achieve what i imagined, but ultimately, when i look back at my struggles and experiences with this attribute of mine, this battle, i see that it is the process that needed to be.

designs, or better put, “conviction” or determination and action – these are good tools; good ways. and i’ve known this, and i’ve learned their value through experience. i like where i am. as a being.

the vibrant deck is still as incredible, as immense and constant but i’m not bowled over by its presence. it’s even moreso now than before, but i have found some kind of rule with it. a channel that we both can distinctly thrive but contribute to one another in those familiar and improvised chords.

every day, things are new as they are – “same.” which just means that i feel~ everything. i drag my sleep with me into the wake quite a distance. like a puppeteer whose strings are braided with rice candy. slowly the dissipation blends that sugary flow to the momentums of the sole. step by step into the wake of fabulous endeavour.

my wake also leans into my sleep. trying to borrow time to spend with its love; the slow divide withers for those moments creating a homonym pairing between those realities. lovely.

my sister “m.” shared with me the word “nascent” and what a good one it is. at some point i probably played with it in the past, because it is quite familiar. but i enjoy it as new. i welcome that.
for me everything is continually refreshed, continually new, continually different which is new.
life is reciprocal and a reflection. it is refreshing even when seemingly darkest.

i appreciate all. maybe i cannot “help it,” perhaps my particular situation affords me something that i don’t have to earn, or work for but at the same time i am very aware of the value, and i recognize what it is i have to offer – and the importance of making sure i share that.

even the sad flounder in the low tide stench has it’s magnificence to be appreciated. appreciation is neither negative or positive it is awareness and acceptance. it is the digestion of one’s connection to existence.

a note to m.

"oh, crap ~ i'm the mirror!"  {12:58pm 10 the 19 2011 - realizing that the mirror that separates ott and too (characters from my knot story) is, in fact, me.

this stuff is happening more and more to me now that i am actively pursuing my dynamic properties.  my ideas for story and tangible artistic expression have never and never stop accumulating - occurring.  but to be able to articulate them, to have those combinations collide and create new ones - it reminds me of my hometown:  phoenix.

i like where my creations take me.  they show me all kinds of thing.

woulds beyond

my daughter and i were making our way out of the nearby forest(woods but we’ve always called it a forest) and walking down some railroad tracks. i had practice balancing on railroad tracks back in my mom’s hometown of clifton, arizona. but i could never keep it up for really long lengths.
but this time i could have gone on indefinitely. was it something i was doing differently or has my balance changed?

my daughter was commenting on how it would make an interesting picture to take of the tracks. i said “you mean just straight down or the span” and she said “the span.” she has a good eye. it was a neat looking shot. i had been too busy keeping my balance to look up ahead.

to frame the context, these particular tracks are laid down along a path blasted through the rock of the hills. the hills go upwards of three-stories high. my apartment is up at the top of one side of the hills and the “secret” path down across the railroad and into the nearby park (woods/forest) winds along the edge of one of the blasted hills.

it’s a good walk no matter the time of year. it’s a good hike too and you can bring your mountain bike along if you are experienced enough. additionally the river in audience to all of this foliage is a nice winding and deep enough one to go canoeing on, i wouldn’t recommend tubing.

right now the river is low so you can walk on a lot of the bed in the more shallow areas. it reminds me of the many walks me and my cousins and aunts and uncles would take along the colorado river in arizona as well as the other rivers i would visit in arizona. our walks would be in the water and go either up or down the river.

rivers, like many paths we take in life, do not reveal enough at any one point for us to know what may become of our adventure.  in part this makes us fearful but also attracted.  the river will take you quickly down its banks and there is sometimes the quiet times to enjoy the surround, and others you have to focus on the rapid and rock nearby.  this balance in life happens in everything we do, it's just that it is not so obvious like splash and eddy.

the adventure is afoot.  speak and fly into it.

itchy fabrics

people are pretty amazing. every day, thousands i pass, i may be underestimating - probably.  but what i feel is much more than that.
but in those few that i interact with, see, move with, or react to there is an intense sense of texture.  attribute.

everyone has their concerns, their to-do, or will be's.  wandering around on their paths with the clothes they've selected or habitually don.  it is this mosaic that is excited in our passing of one another.

all those qualities are juicy nutrition or filler perhaps fiber.  but rich, wholesome.

i am awake for the moment but i am going back to sleep.  later today i must wake up for some more cleaning and then some painting and maybe some eating.  if i have time i will check out that jacket again i saw at target.  it fit pretty well, seemed to have a good amount of warm.  we'll see. 
i don't favour the cheap puff jackets or other utility ones that you can find relatively cheap at stores, but i don't want to pay hundreds for a nice big wool one or peacoat, etc.  and the thrift stores continue not to contain anything in my size.