Wednesday, October 26, 2011

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.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

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.

Saturday, October 22, 2011


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.

Friday, October 21, 2011

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

Thursday, October 20, 2011


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.


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.


jacket - got
cleaning - more done
new phone - on the way
paintings - strokes continue 

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

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 {form} but, you know - for pillow fighters).

[for dramatic fun]
the battle continues!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

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.


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.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

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.

Monday, October 17, 2011


. . .however,    holding steady

today was an interesting one, slip-clouds; smooth subtle, but with interesting lightning and random drops of rain to make you think a downpour was imment but then~  nothing.

chilly too.

generally, or is that basically?  hmm  well i'm doing well, making progress.  i need to get myself a new jacket though.  last year i had layers to help, but i'm not in the mood for layers this wintery time.  well not so many layers.  i spied this jacket at target and i know it won't last (it will sell out).  i'll have to see if my pennies add up.  i wish it were in black but maybe i can paint some bits and seasonings on it to subdue it's drab olives.

i also have to schedule in some time to get a new phone.  i need one with a camera or something.  i also need it to be cheaper.  well, i want it to be cheaper.  my cubicle-neighbor pays upward of $80 for a smartphone.  oof! 

so i'm searching for alternatives to save money.  i've been, more or less, bleeding due to neglect of fine-toothed management.  i don't see any problem with trimming the costs.
lots of cleaning to do.  it is exciting and sweaty at the same time.  some of it is stressful but there is much worth in the battle.  i am learning many things.  and perhaps i already learned the core lessons, even the finer points, now they are all being tested and put to practice.  woken.

i am also writing much knotworks.  building (continuing to build) a glossary of all my personal words and ideas, but alongside that i'm including basic ideas for story.  it helps to wrangle the ideas and be able to move them around until they tell me to stop. 
some of these ideas seem good to paint or illustrate instead of just left to word.

hands are great stuff.  they do all kinds of thing.  they have a memory as well. and i love the memory they share.


blogs.  txt's.  phone calls.  post-mail.  even in-person conversates - are incomplete. they need each other for a balanced diet of experience; of perception, of perspective.

it occurs to me (well not just now but always) that each of us may forget this incompleteness of the immediate medium.  communication is difficult enough and then to convolute it with incomplete devicery; madness.

looking at this blog, sampling the stuffs i've shared over it's life, there is a bent perspective - an incomplete one on who i am.  but what can someone know if this is all they have to guage our connection by?

it is usually sampled to say that "if aliens came down and examined what humanity leaves behind, what would they think?"  but unfortunately for the aliens, like so many ologists have come to know - large numbers or evidence is needed for observation to hope to understand what is being discovered.

blog or twit, we tend to share the points in life, but what of the scarps? what of the plains?
not so much.  and so those riches are lost on discovery.  and huge gaps are created.
even in-person this can happen. where words can be taken too sharply - too seriously with absolute designs, or preassigned and unwavering definition.  conversations should have an organic tandem.  the word usually used is "understanding" as in "one should go into an argument/conversation with understanding." 
but like many sayings, this is incomplete.

"keep an open mind" is a good saying as well.  empathy is a good word.

but ultimately it's not about words or concepts to glom onto, we are organic creatures- that is our nature. our behaviour and needs are likewise- organic.  moving with that aspect of our nature yields much. fighting against it may produce some measure of results, even greatly-    for a time;    but over the balance of our lives, our fantastic is diminished.

sometimes our words come out like badly-compressed files or old magnetized floppy disks; they're there but mostly just noise and gibberish.  we are left confused and perhaps frustrated because not only is our brain unable to fulfill it's outward expression but it cannot reflect on the articulated word. the benefit of articulating abstract thought is lost when our words just don't agree with tongue.

maybe if you stop stealing their panties

focus on what's important in life.  make that your foundation not ancillary leaf.
associations can distract if not checked.  we can make ourselves believe maligned realities. inbred thoughts because we don't or can't get out of our own head.  but we can reach out and keep our connections with others strong. the "hall of mirrors" as i like to say; bonds, friendships, family  - these connections, when strong, offer infinite and reciprocal reflection and perspectives and perceptions that are wholesome and balanced as can be for one's dynamic.  and when i say "dynamic" i am talking about the individual's "being" but within the whole context of existence.  a person's "being" radiates outward touching and connecting with all things.  those closer are more connected and feel more of the individual's spirit, those further, less and less.  we each are those centers of the universe talking with one another.  realities in congress.

Sunday, October 16, 2011


the imagination will tremble greatly over the clarity of connection. not in fear or from shear power, but from gratitude. the mind needs the share. never deny it when you feel it.  do not shy from a true connection. do not turn your back on it. do not give up on it.
the reality that exists, by context, by will, by convention, may not be ideal, may not be "best" or favourable, but that does not give excuse or waiver to abandon it.  because "it" is part of you. in abandoning connection you abandon yourself.

it may be said there are levels of reality.  levels - in that we have human laws, we have our emotional attributes, scars, importances that may conflict, resources that are limited; but we are human and not only are we resilient, we are adaptive.  adaptation can be used to comfort and hide but it can also be used to thrive and to push the limits of those boundaries we each have.
connection with one another is important; valuable; life saving.  we thrive and survive on being a social creature.
it is our nature.

i continue to push forward through my own muck's past, the clogged arteries of connection.  atrophy continues to fail on itself but i still have much to grow, even in that light.  i will never stop growing because there is never an end to connecting- sharing- learning- teaching- observing.  i am audience to the world - to the continua. 

i will not give up on my connection, of the people and elements i feel for, of those i feel are right, important, and true.

Saturday, October 15, 2011


we each have such great capability.  will we see it for ourselves in time?  how many of us do not?
i have just found out that one of my old-time friends in arizona is in need of assistance in quite possibly the greatest way.  not just in medical but in mental.  i have yet to find out the severity but i didn't think twice about helping.  and the reason i make a fine point about this is because, hmm - - in the past i might have let my financial or doubts of my own possible offerings get in the way, second guess me.

it is proof to myself of where i have been able to get my head to.  i didn't do it on my own - but i'm just generally glad of where my head is at now.

it's not just about friends or family - it's about sharing and having strong connections to anyone, especially one's own bonds or importances.  who you are is a radiant yield to all others.

i just hope i can contribute something substantial - more than what i'm imagining i can do at the moment.

i know i have the well to pull from though, and i have the bucket too.

socks in the wind

i was able to find my flying socks.  finally! i've lost many things in my rooms over time.  retrieving them - rescuing them is tough, but very worth the sweat and blister.

it'll take some getting used to again; flying after all these years.  but i had become pretty good at it before i neglected it.

i must find my goggles too.  one needs to protect the eyes when the flails are to the froth of strata.

i just wish that i had others with me.  perhaps i'll find others aloft in my flights.  most likely - it is a certainty.

quarter pocket change

little moments become larger moments of meaning.  serendipity?  chance relies on our individual experience and perspective - our perception of reality.

rules?  what rules are there but what our chemical situate commands?  or perhaps, it is what that chem-sit demands of us.

what i do know is that i love the little moments we share with each other.  caring for one another, doing things for another that are perfectly suited to their needs without so many words or rules urging us to perform.

the "do" for one another without return.  the "do" for one another that is reciprocally reflective, where - at some point - you cannot tell the difference between you and they.

and you don't worry about what will be done for yourself.  it's reciprocal.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

contemplating consonance

one thing i love about life, is the chance to find those consonants in the colloquy.

humans are ignited by “like-minds.” the saying feels incomplete, many sayings are that way, but they are just gists, reference points, attributes that are part to a whole. singled out, they make great reference but then they have to return to their ultimate source. the lesson they(sayings) teach should be traced back to the ultimate context they are sampled from.

“like minds” – i think on it more as “in rhythm” or perhaps “movement,” “synonymetry” or “consonant”

i think “consonant” is a great word to capture that feeling of like-connection. it doesn’t isolate any one person, style, character; being “consonant” isn’t necessarily a permanent attribute either. it just “is,” at whatever sample of time we are reflecting on.
but you know it when you feel it. that “now” feeling. life is “now.” and consonants thrive in that now. they help each other, and by doing so – themselves.

a note to my bonds, my friends, my knows-ofs

{this was originally my sentiment to my friend frank. but when i wrote it, i could feel that i was writing not just to him but to all people. and so, i share it here.}

we are all the same, and different – that is our humble. i know it, you know it. we all feel it, but we have our separate bodies. we can get caught in them so easily. i know it well. my whole life has been that struggle. i don’t socialize so well, but i do talk to many people all the time. just... not-- deeply. not full force.

i am tired of that. perhaps broken, or whatever it is-- it hurts too much not to express myself how i feel to do it. i still feel the “lock down” by my old ways, my cultured and bent self is pulling at me. “don’t do it.” and i’m saying “damn you you crap-garbage, look what you’ve done to us.” i proceed to scuff with myself – that crap me. i’ve been winning. it’s tough though.

you are human frank. i look up to that. i am human, i realize that. but i am a diminished one. but i know we are the same. we all have our troubles, our emotions, we also have those intellectual knows – what has to be done, what “should” be done. i don’t want to make anyone feel idolized or like i’m making them bigger than they are- “more human than human.” i am dramatic though. expression does that to you. especially when you let it fly freely or without so much reserve (at least as much as i’ve had in my past.). i’m healing and growing, and thriving. it will hurt and there will be a mess. but i will shine once again, and people will know it, because they will feel it.

inspiration is inspiration, there needs to be no condition or exposition to validate it. when you feel the energy of someone’s life, that is proof enough.

i feel yours, and so – i say it to you directly. no more of the couch. the pillows are flung!

the precision of drawing with soap

i just want to say that we each have so much cool stuff to say, to share, to show.  it's all caught up in our heads, and it sure doesn't help now that electronics are the overseers of our attempts at sharing.  power goes down and questions cannot be answered, information cannot be exchanged.

all the nuance is lost as well.  how could we notate nuance in words?  do we use supertext and tons of brackets? symbols?  do we use the technical jargon used to describe how the mouth makes all the sounds it does? 
facebook, the once myspace, google+ or any main social exchange that we utilize - twitter?   any of them.  they all lack the "warmth" - the nuance the face, the movements, the little things that we have when in person.  not to mention the medium we are surrounded in when in-person, such as sounds, sights, and all that our senses take in as we exist next to one another, talking, exchanging, sharing.

we can find ways to persevere - we are human. we are adaptable, resilient.

i need some food, i'm hungry.

in the light we may know the dark

there's a person i know who loves the "incident" of light specifically, i believe- profoundly - i'd know it if i could see him at work. if i could see his daily. i like his experiments, his questions of movement and of light itself.  i hope for his success, for people to see his work - to "see" his capture of light's sneaky leavings.  he's from the ice gallery in san diego and i'll find a good source for his work (i'll ask him the most definitive site) and then share it here. {update 10 the 12 2011.9:10pm} my friend's site and work:

light is everything we see. our eyes operate on the stuff.  what is reality?  a vast question that leads to all kinds of great; but!,  but, just take light.  it is immense.  shadow, source, texture, grades, there are all kinds of occurrences in the consistent moment.  look!  right there, right in front of you:  light.  amazing.
i want to eat it, roll around in it...  just-  get involved in that light.  but then,  i am involved.  i'm reflecting it myself.  absorbing it.   black and white enjoy this situation as do any colour or surface.

the skin is semi-opaque, it has depth, and light likes to get in there and tickle those under parts.

when i am in the bitumenous (my noun for meaning "in context" or aware of my connection to a setting, sometimes i refer to it as "street level") i feel the cracks in the asphalt, the puddles darkening the footpaths, the utility wires casting their grades of shadow on the belows.  a nice way to enjoy the bereft of something.  and light doesn't mind, shoot, light doesn't give up.  it bounces around until it finds you again.  earth shine?  the moon knows it well.

but light needs a partner, it needs particle, it needs that touch to reflect, to refract. to light up the worlds and universe.

notes from a five year old phone

tonight, right now, the large moon has the drifting clouds in blue. the stars must love the subtle parade. fall nights- wonderful

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

plastyk brat

i am underway, but need to reconcile the muck i've collected about myself.  my friend frank, tells me about eating elephants and though one could argue all the aspects out(mince words), the point of a saying or quote is to capture expression into a shareable accessible form.  the sayings themselves shouldn't be taken as absolutes or all encompassing - they shouldn't be taken so seriously to the point that the point is missed.

the reconciliation is about my resources versus my now awakened ambition - additionally, i not only have decades of imagination byproducts to express but i continually have new ones.  i am very much behind even when it comes to my own mind.

my three-painting goal is proceeding. painting is great.  brush and balance of humidity or flow along with viscosity and texture.  coverage, placement, skill, technique.  but always, those things are a service to the mind, tools, ingredients.

i have a nice, though short, collection of canvas to paint on.  they'll do for a time.  and it's not an issue, the canvas availability. the main issue is in the sculptural forms i am drawn to work on.  i've called these "nitsches" in the past and more recently "column incidents" (i think i called them "columns"). sometimes i refer to the way to capture my mind as "movements" much like the bowels do.  in ways art is just like any other exhaust or refuse.  it captures necessary elements.  a bowel movement captures necessary waste to expel - a very important and valuable thing to have happen. 
the mind consumes and creates and utilizes and absorbs all kinds of nutrients from experience.  it produces it's own measure of gas.  this "gas" is the exhaust we call expression.  and we'll do all kinds of crazy things to let it out; amazing things.  from limb to voice it comes out in all kinds of ways.

i'm still figuring out how to make these incidents- tangible.  they ellude my construction.  but i must commit them to tangible meals that can be distributed.

i'm going to have to find a medium that is small, shapable, moldable, but that is not oil/grease clay or soap.  i have access to alot of discarded cardboards in many grades and guages. those will help.
this way i can mock up my ideas and shape and experiment until they reveal their recipe.

Monday, October 10, 2011

simple misunderstandings

identify this structural formula. - the point in this question is not to identify one's level or condition of human knowledge or thought, capability or intelligence, but to illustrate that we can all know a thing but simply not have a way to identify it, to easily remember it; to others, to communicate it amongst ourselves easily.  it also shows how we may all be talking about the same thing but fight amongst ourselves because we believe we are not listening to one another. 

listening or understanding or empathy is vital.  we do that, and we don't have to "try" or to "be strong enough to" or force change.  our energy and our actions clear the connection between us all, to get out of our own heads, to wake up and smell the rain.

pinch your morning

started painting again. white against would.
stroke by stroke
layers needed.
but they are easy now despite the convoluted yogic poses i must maintain on once couched dreams.

but i maintain the clean nightstand.  dust is a curious critter that loves the tops of our efforts. they wait for you to not notice much, it doesn't take much of a distraction and then they hurry back to their places of comfort.  they do not like to stay away long.  they love those tops.

i may be allergic; i may be asthmatical, but the dusting is my dance now.  it is no more effort than each breath.  and do i look to breath as a chore in my life?

notes to myself: self portrait somehow, two g letters, instructions to aunt about how to entice the binary giant, canvas for italian experiments, a couple of more layers - maybe one or two today, two or three tonight.

mornings are the reconciliation between two realities.  to states of being who, only for a pinch, are able to share with one another before they are on their own again.
some of those pinches can be rude, some clarifying, some exhilarating.  all, the sort where we turn around to find what we thought was there but where it has already become one.  and so we wait each morning for that rarefied pinch. those few moments where we see the back of our heads, the torrents of experience, the outsides of our insides.

four pegs

there are those people in your life that will do the most subtle things but shake your rails.
and you'll remember those subtles, those shared sentiments for your whole life. and some share so many of these kinds of thing with you that while you may forget the individual parts, the gravity created by the collection becomes everything you are.

i was playing mastermind with my daughter. i did pretty well on the first go, i think maybe i got it on the sixth row?  not sure. we played a couple more times and overall i won every round (with two rounds receiving hints from the mastermind herself - good ones too, meaning she didn't give too much away).
but it was this one time that hit me like the universe influences the earth.

i figured out that the pattern was four red pegs.  i was lucky and chose mostly red early on as a way to eliminate some other colours i had initially chosen.  i got the answer in four rows.  but, she pointed out to me, as she was putting them away(getting ready for the next round), that she picked four red because red is usually what people colour hearts with and she chose them because she loves me.
(i am) no longer the witless fool to ott and too.

i can bleed once again. ' wonderful to be human


this [video] is what it is like when her and i are we.
neither one, individual – we are the blend-magnificent.
it is in each other that we see ourselves.
we make each other ~ ~ everything.
this is true for the few as is for the many.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

wanderers in the fall

today, earlier, i was driving with my daughter and we spied a discarded end table by the dumpster.  i wasn't sure at first but it looked like it was trying to not get noticed by us or the other passing cars; waiting for the chance to make it's getaway.  my daughter said maybe it was going to run for the nearby woods; that maybe it was sad and wasn't doing to well as an end table and that's why it was thrown out; and that now it wanted to be happy again and be with it's loved ones again.

it must of got cold feet because when we came back it was still there.  i suspect it is waiting for nightfall and then it'll make it's move well before the garbage men arrive.

my daughter added later on october 10, as it was getting dark and we were leaving, "he better head for midnight." after i mentioned that the table was still there and maybe it was waiting for it to (both of us together) "get dark."


making and doing.  acting. saying.  sharing.

getting stuff out of the head that has no form can be frustrating.  i grab for all kinds of thing, throw them around, shape them into stuff and maybe, sometimes, i feel it captures what is flying out of my head.  mostly - not.

in the past, i would get tired, inward thoughts would turn against me and pull me down.  "what's the point" may have crept in there.  unsure, but i think yes.  it's all in my head already, i can enjoy it - selfish.
my effort, my fight, is to push through myself.  get that stuff out there however i can.  improve my ability to do so.

the battle continues.  the couches are flying at me.  they don't like such activity, it makes them lose to change.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

bang the stars

earlier tonight or late yesterday, i found my gesso - it's dead.  but i found a nice tub of titanium white so i'm just going to use that and brush forward.

the moon is pretty not bad tonight.  gibbous but i forget if it's waxing or waning.  great stars keep good orchestration.
to stop myself from too much philosophising tonight i watched some eddie izzard.  dress to kill is the title of the one i have.  he does a great james mason skit but the one i'm thinking of wasn't in dress to kill.

i'm going to bed. ' have a big weekend ahead.  more than a voyage this time. i hope the fantastic beasts do not grab hold of us along the way.

i also just want to put a note out to the universe that i have failed someone miserably. as i see it i have failed myself but by connection . . . many people.

carrying on, well - in my sleeep anyway.

have fun in your adventures.

Friday, October 7, 2011

chemical ghosts

right, this is one of those times that have come to lean on me over the last couple of years, but really - this has been going on for way too long:  it is that i have too much to say, but too little a way to say it, or not enough time to say it, and so i have a strong feeling to just not say anything.  but then one instance turns into two and then more until one minute becomes years.

so i'm writing this to disrupt this, whatever it is. 

Thursday, October 6, 2011

steganographic wands

my phone.  now(the one i have now), an ancient device still able to summon the spirits.  actually, it's probably just from the first half of this new millennium's first decade.  it is, essentially, my backup.  my phone before had a camera and video capability but was not a "smartphone."  but it was perfectly dropped into a cup of water at one point and then left exposed in a summer heated car (last summer 2010).  and though it even worked after those two events, less than a month later the screen was gone.  i could still use the phone. if i remember right, but i was limited because i could no longer see the numbers i was dialing or any of the screens to navigate through the functions.
fortunately someone i know had an old phone with my same provider.  so while i have a phone, i don't have the benefit of it's camera.

i've been looking at the smartphone option on and off, but i might as well not dwell on it since practically, i cannot see a way to afford the phone itself let alone the monthly fee+data package.  data package?  rubbish excuse to eviscerate one's wallet.
but, additionally, principally i have a repulsion to this particular money scheme.  i already had issues with the greed i perceived of the phone companies - regarding all the sort of charges added on with little or no explanation (or convoluted explanations). 

the smartphone would help with some things, but at this point it is much like a shoe two sizes too small.

getting board

early or late yesterday (now), i went to go sketch out a rough on a board only to realize that i needed to prime it first.  so i have to find the dang primer.  i can't afford to get any right now so if i cannot locate some gesso or such then i'm going to have to switch out the board with one of the other paintings i have in front of me.

additionally, one of the paintings i have planned (and have a signed off design for by the client) is not the right size. or i mean, not the right size canvas.  i had switched out the canvas awhile back thinking it to be the better dimension, but no.  so i have to start over on that one.

i have to figure out what to do for the third piece.  i have "free range" on that one, and while i had some ideas, i have had too many since and so i have no idea now what to do with that one.

one of the areas i'm working to expand on is in the illustration or tangible capture of my ways of capturing the bituminal street.  "bitumen" is may way of relating to my loves of walking or existing at "street level."  it's not isolated to just cities or their streets, but the venue tends to be just that.

"incidents" tend to be a kind of multi-medium, light involved, movement oriented, altering objects that mostly have taken a kind of pillar-mass form.  until i can get the illustrations or sketches for these incident pillars, i will do my best to document their explanation and description here.

i have started a log of all my jargon, titles, names, curious or reoccurring words, ideas, etc. into an email.  the email is unadressed.  i have come to do this often and i keep a store of these permanently "unsent" emails. i have to setup some word files, format them, and start moving alot of that email information there. the emails i keep are easily accessed and easy to make updates too.  my idea at the moment is to continue to use the email-format to "sketch" into and then transfer that to my word files.

this log is growing quickly and exponentially.  i am keeping it alphabetical but it is diverse, containing ideas specific to "knot" as well as personal culture, favourite words, mnemonic art idea titles, etc.

i am poor at organizing but the word files will help.  of course, i'll utilize outline features.  i am proficient in microsoft word and photoshop and i have both available to me.  i have some of the latest versions too, additionally i have access to a very recent version of indesign.  though full of potential i have no direct need or content to utilize the program.

i am also wondering if i can find some people willing to model for my "toos" poster/painting(which is an idea separate from the three main paintings i have to finish).

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

radiation suit

one of my main tools is missing: my camera. after i got hit by the car my poor friend broke.

i have yet to be able to replace it.  until i find an alternative i have to find a temporary replacement.  maybe some kind of craig could help.  but for the next two months, at minimum, i cannot concentrate any cash towards replacing it.

as for options, i have many.  i mean, photography is not the only medium i look to.  perhaps in the recent past i have looked to often to photography. no one medium better or not, just - what is necessary to capture those things in our mind.

currently i have three ancient projects to complete.  it's laughable, or at least makes me laugh when i think on it.  because they are rather simple projects - paintings.  but for me, this is how it has been for some time... "can't even paint three paintings" - well at one time it was just one but over the years they've "piled up" - oh boy that is hilarious but at the same time not.
well that's the process.  a process.

the season, the sun, the light is changing quickly. i had spied some fantastic lines and shadows and shape in the workout room at my company.  they would be great to photograph. but i decided not to pursue them with camera.  maybe i should go out of my way to borrow any camera to capture what i see.  but the importance is not in me.  i also thought to go and sketch out the lines. but it is the layer of light and interaction with visible content that is mainly attractive in this instance and not just the shapes and forms or composition; though i do love the shapes and forms as well.

light is all around us continually presenting, to our dual biological portals, the twists and bends we call reality.  shadow or the subtraction of light, and light itself are the more obvious of the display.  we like the play between the two.  i am very captivated by the drama in the contrast.  the turns between darks and lights.

reflection, see through, translucent, semi opaque, hidden source - magnetique - gravitous.
i am attracted to those aspects, the carroted attributes.

but light is not just shadow or ray, manipulated cultures given off by all that enjoy the highlight or the shade.  a wet road, a dirt patch, a painted surface or a canopy of leaf, all present different pattern and light adjustments.
it's the stuff of nothing new.

"incident" is something i've been referring to as a word to capture an idea, or a way or something that speaks for a feeling i have for the interaction of light.  somehow i need to find a way to capture the "incident."

paintings, sculpture, etc. these "standards" of art often seem or feel incomplete to me.  that doesn't mean i feel less for them, but just that in-of-themselves they don't seem the "right tools" or right way to "build" or right building to make when it comes to the "capture" of expression, of light, of "incident."

but all tools and mediums have their use, their necessity.  no one tool or medium is less or more.  i just have what is needed or useful to capture the moment.  that may be paint one time, photo the next. or a combination.
but the other option i'd considered in the past is in "nothing" - or "do nothing" (because it's already in my head).  no more of that. .. or less and less of that.  i don't expect cold-turkey but i liking cold food over taking the time to heat it.  i'll be able to prepare warm meals again.

the knots i share

in the ways ago, the befores, i did not write much; did not communicate much.  now, i am still poor at it all.  but i am moreso now than previous.
for me i may note that the ideas appearing in my mind are instant, but only for me.  i hadn't really grasped that idea in the longer past. only in the last decadesh past did i really grasp that only i was benefiting from my thoughts, my stories, my sights.

i witnessed the benefit of the sharings, in myself or in my appreciation of the shares of others. the discoveries i made of the rares and forgottens as well as the knowns and historical. i was glad they persevered to share what they shared.  their minds connected now with all others who would ever find what was left behind.

even in the static and exhaust there is value.  i know it. i acknowledge and accept that truly.
still, my mind is so easily sated by the constant wonder in concert continually- with its no-shy finesse; it's roar and tenor - it's subtle flats, it's quiets.

i know, have known the value of the share; of the "connect" and in the connections we make.  i have neglected many of these opportunities but it is not a "waste" or something to be wept over.  all that we are is the beauty of our being; our dynamic.  our momentum-continuate or "forward momentums" are the right nows that we all know.  our time is the now.  not the whens or ifs but this constant we share and are connected to.

we all are connected to one another.  at this very moment you may be reading this i will have already written it, but my mind was thinking and my digits typing when you were doing...  what?  what were you doing then.  what am i doing now that you read this?  the world spins, a rock lays, the sun burns, atoms combine, someone breaths, it is day... perhaps night.
all at the same time.

and love.  and passion.  and emotion.  we have no control over these, just like we have none over what we like or trust.  our acted-on choices can influence those paths but we do not control those sequences, those aggregations of experience.  when "trust" or "love" is lost it is not because we choose it, it is by results that our instincts react to, and our intellect decides on.  consistency.  discipline helps.  but reliable, or what is familiar and relatively constant, contributes to the things we find comfortable, favourable, lovable, trustable, likable.

but away from that.  here, i state to myself, and for any that may cross my tangible journey, i will not give in.  i cannot.  i am too optimistic in nature to "give in" but what i am meaning is in the "share." i will not give in to not sharing.

i am not the most sociable person, my relative isolation from all those i am bonded to (to whatever degree or relationship) has, i feel, diminished my social skills.  i do get to practice in my daily ventures and, of course, at work where there is quite a diverse field of wonder to exchange, examine, and reflect with.  but the context of work is a bent one, a skewed one that does not inspire the sort of freedom in people to share their whole spectrum.  many contexts in the daily life are like this.

i am also undermined by my habit of not asking the obvious.  i seem to feel that people will tell me when they want or need to.  perhaps i consider it prying or rude if i ask too much.  a bit of tactless action.  but i feel it is perhaps an overreaction or oversensitivity to intrusion or polite behaviour.  perhaps too polite or respectful. maybe it's just my warped associations.
but people want to hear the asking of the simple questions, the obvious things and whots.
but not "all" people.

what i have known is that i have come to block my tangible expression.  my "art" or "works" in other words.  while i never stop in mind, the imaginations, the wonder, the ideas and story, they still go unshared.

my hope is, has been, and now - that i will win my balance back from myself; be able to share how i had, and what i feel everyday.  the sights are grand but when i turn to share it there is only silence, empty shadows.
but i will not let those idle casts distract me as they have in the past.  excuses in the mud because i didn't want to get dirty.  excuses can be washed and adventured wins because it is shared with the wonderful and found.

in my many bent year-and-moment, i have fought my mind to produce; to conform; to connect.  what i have discovered is that i am already satisfied. so it is not me, it has never been about me.  and i have been chasing that tail of mine in nonsensed vane.  but perhaps not nonsense.  i needed to scrape my soul on those textures, bruise and stub and bloody myself in instruction to perspective.

my connections are greatest and most important.  they never stop because there is no end.  "death"?
is death such an end? what end do you know in death?
regardless of perceived benefit or detriment - bad or good, happy sad, i enjoy - i appreciate all the facets of the continua and that most definitely includes the life and nonsense of all those i share this earth with.  all their nuance, all their concerns, their stinks and subtles.  their colour, their simple.  their complex and culture.

i argue and gripe and disagree but that is life as well.  i calm down and in my reflections i am too happy, i am too glad.  to know, and to live, and to be with all the things that, everyday,  every all and days and moments, i am part of.  not individuals together, but a whole of parts; that miraculous soup with all of our ingredient and layers of temperature and flavour and season and texture.

we are not so apart but in our minds.  and our minds are not so ruled by rules.  we stop ourselves, we will ourselves, we connect ourselves.

my reflections here are to reaffirm my resolve.  to renew my ongoing vows to free the shares in me.  loosed and contribute.

whatever happens here, my reports will be as consistent and constant as my will commands.  currently it is weak but renewed.  i have been very weak these last few years.  no direction, overwhelmed, too many directions, too many wonders.  i negate myself, undermine myself, too perfectionist, too . . . much.

i do not have much support in my surround.  as i said, i am isolated.  but i know what i have to work with.  i have known the gameplans possible, and i know the resources to call on.  i am stubborn however, i mean my character parts are stubborn.  i can sense when i avert or repulse from the "best" actions.  silly, and frustrating, debilitating.  but i know this so it is something i can take action against.

i believe i will mumble here, make much nonsense, but i will continue to share. consistently share.  if at least, i will share stray and raw thought rather than the more straight exhausts and emotion i tend to take the time to capture in these bloggish or social mediums.  the importance on the "share" is such that i cannot concern myself so much, or at all, with form.  we - "i" need to function.  function to share.
to render my abstracts into accessible tangible forms that are more than just breath or digital dodds.

whoever you are that may read this; be good, be your best and persevere.  do not wholly lean your reality on the accolades or concepts of others. we are chemical beings; know that, and use what you know to gift your mind with the perspectives and perception to serve your dynamic. shared nutrient.

ott's contract

something slate.  something broke.  something wore.  something glue.

seems i test everyone around me too much.  i am overwhelmed or indecisive - too much.
too much, it seems, i enjoy the simplest things without bias to any sort of alignment of moral or culture.
boundless lines.


but clear.

an infinite box folding and folding the tears~

until the simmer takes and the shadows argue the lighter sides we pick through.

life is existence and existence is connection.  every turn made is saturate tooth biting and turning the flesh into nonsense that has sense beyond sense. 

my thoughts are inundated with the fantastic and miraculous. surrounded.


horribly outnumbered.

but ott says he'll offer me a deal. his jargon twists the pact but he is no trickster. his will is to teach not to spoil.  an attractive offer.
ott's byproduct is the notorious cotsy. it is not entirely his fault they exist; that they trap the distracted with complacency. but ott, knowing the fates dealt by those couched-beasts, does nothing because he is too attached to the realm he's cultured over the ages.

the alternatives are myth so i'll take the deal.