Happy Halloween!!!!!!!!!!

What is my favorite holiday you ask?  It's today, halloween!!  My costume involves sequins, tulle, cotton balls and blue hair dye.  Pics will be posted later :)  Time to get dyeing.  How ghoulish of me!  Have a happy, safe halloween everyone :)

Adrenaline

He sits with her on a wooden bench scented with plausability.
Circling dove mourning cries, gray and white, winged,  a pair
landing.
Parachute touch down.
Weathered hand still feminine calls his face to palm.  The hand
cups his uneven texture.  Soft fleece jacket over his abdomen,
syncopated heart beat visible.
A flicker of brown iris in the still moment of union
served to her, he is gracious.
Now the lips part, curling.
Heat hit the ears and color the cheeks raised in smile. 
Palm to thigh of singular.
Relapse to her last chance adrenaline rising hard.
She states it.  Thick distraction laden window
pausing leaf falling- mid-air disco ball to pierce
eyelids open, hearts, mouths to connect.
To keep spinning.

Devendra Banhart

Cool video and I like what I've heard from the new album even better than the old stuff.  I might actually buy some music! 

Review of the new album What Will We Be

Angelika, a song from the new album here

Stolen

The way it begins is the way it ends.
When she grows up she wants to make things.
Neurosis spilling over the top of the tea cup onto the stove.
Just a little water is what he thinks of the puddle.
Just a shard of glass entering your thumb, no biggie.
Where are the antelopes?  Where are the ants?
She will make things.  She will find and follow the
currents to connections.  Call in the flies. 

October

lost hillsides

paradise hillside

horse on the mountain

grass greener than sugar maples

gurgling stream fighting stomach upset

Portishead screaming all mine you have to be

freakish rainbows never ending cacoon

caterpillars on October sidewalks

fighting amongst inner walls

soft, pale guitar strums

quoting Radiohead's

house of cards

Pro Se

There is usually something better
than what you are experiencing
at the moment.

If you can't imagine it
then you are screwed.

I have no advice for
attaining the better,
but always keep in mind
that life can be cruel

until the point of
surrender.

Knitting & the City

What started as a week of avoidance & denial which manifested as watching movies or television non-stop turned into the same amount of watching but with the added productivity of knitting scarves.  I'm knitting scarves for homeless people and if you want to participate I'm sure it will be appreciated.  I have tons of yarn, extra needles and instructions so even if you have no supplies and no knitting skills don't rule yourself out of the fun.

I've only had one homeless friend and he resided in New Haven for a while before eventually moving to Florida where the weather is more accommodating.  I don't know if he ever made it there, but I keep hoping he's safe and happy.  His name is Sean, this is us in 1998:

My girlfriend and I were in a cafe in NH and saw him sitting at another table.  We asked him to join us and that started our friendship.  We went to visit him often and even took him camping at Webb Mountain.  I had a major crush on him, hehe.  One day we showed up at the usual spot and he was gone.  We knew of his plans for Florida and that one day he wouldn't be around, but it was a major bummer anyway.  I never got the full story of why he left home but some small details remain:  he was from Rhode Island, he had a job for a short while at Au Bon Pain, he was robbed one night while sleeping on a rooftop, he loved Jim Morrison.  He completely changed my idea of what a homeless person might be.  I never felt threatened, he never asked for anything, he was just a guy who I enjoyed spending time with.

After that I started becoming more aware of others in his situation.  I never made another friend who was homeless but would occasionally give away my lunch or any change I had.  Once I was talking to a kid named Solo after a concert at Toad's Place.  He and his dog lived on the streets in NH. While leaning towards him to tell him something his dog bit my thigh.  That was a night to remember!  Luckily the dog was healthy and I didn't need stitches, just a few hours in the emergency room and a prescription for antibiotics that I never took.  His dog was just protecting him and I was glad he had that kind of support.

Anyway, I'm knitting.  If you want to knit, need supplies, instructions, etc. you know where to email me.  If you want to donate finished goods to the cause you can send them to me at PO Box 1824, Naugatuck, CT 06770 and I will hand them out.  If you want to come with me to distribute these gifts I'll be doing so in a few weeks and I'd love the company.  Let me know & thanks :) 

Sunset Scene

Friends!!

I have been waiting all year for my snake to show up. Usually my snake comes in the Spring time and I have been patiently waiting for him to show up since then. I was leaving the house today to run some errands and fortunately I brought my camera.  Above the excitement of finding a snake in the middle of the driveway was the addition of a ladybug to the scene.  They must have been chatting. 

He decided to slither away after I got the first picture.  I didn't pick him up, but did get to touch his tail.  He was a tiny thing, probably no more than a foot long.  A double whammy of rebirth and hope from two very beautiful creatures.

lampshade

To make a scarf

A knit stitch.
Thousands of them.
Oatmeal wool yarn.

Click a needle
onto another.
Make a stitch.

Carry over a stitch
to create fabric.
Fabric made from stitches.

I knit. I knit and
watch surgery.
I watch family.

I knit stitches.
I knit.

I knit for days.

Everything in its Right Place

On the lighter side must be from the past - and also not so much on the lightter side...

From Coffee News, Oct. 19, 2009

Imagine if birds were tickled by feathers.

What do you get when you cross a porcupine with a sheep?  An animal that knits its own sweaters.

A guy walked into the doctor's office with a lettuce leaf sticking out of one ear.  "That's just the tip of the iceberg."

What kills 99 percent of all known computer germs?  MS Dos.

Someone should push the "Down" button on her escalator shoes.

What is the longest word in the English language?  Smiles- because there's a mile between the first and last letter.

He's a second-story man; no one ever believes his first story.

Suburbia:  Where they tear out the trees and then name streets after them.

----------------------------------

I miss the spell check in the compose mode of blogger.  I better get over this crankiness!  I'm starting to bum myself out.  Last night I learned that Venus was retrograde when I was born.  It was in Aquarius when normally it would have been in Taurus or Gemini (moving forward).  This may not mean much, the fact that it was retrograde, but it plays a big part in how I act around people I am attracted to.  Venus, being the love planet and all has a major effect on these things.  Instead of being my usual fiery self to attract a mate I turn inward (what a retrograde typically asks one to do) and become much more intellectual, shy, less affectionate and so on.  Wow.  It's funny that the more I learn about astrology and how my aspects work the more it makes sense.  I absolutely do all of those things when I have feelings for someone.  So in essence I give the wrong idea to people I don't like and the wrong idea to those I do.  Whatever.  I'm sure that if someone was really meant for me they would know or I'd tell them straight out.  I've also noticed that during a Venus retrograde, which happened earlier this year and lasted to April is a time that I made major love related decisions.  Normally a retrograde period is not a good time for decisions, but a time to evaluate and finalize later. 

So this over-sharing thing...It's been happening a lot lately.  It's how I am and how I've always wanted to be!  Whatever I got you can have, too.  I was recently looking into this technique/movement called Radical Honesty and the founder says there is no such thing as over-sharing.  I've always wanted to give it all.  I guess that way if someone benefits from something I've been through or something I know it's ripe for the picking.  I love information.  Sifting is a great quality, just take what you need. I've had a few intuitive readings done for me over the years, only two from people I don't know, and the last one was in August.  She told me not to talk about my business.  I wonder about that.  Does it matter?  Oh well. 

I like how this blogging thing allows for self-discovery.  Typing and revealing a mood but at the same time seeing the words and being able to view the mood from afar.  Detachment so things work out in the process.  I suppose this is what confessionalism is?  Why so much backlash on the confessionalists?  If you don't want to read it you don't have to.  I think the reason people say they don't like it is because they don't want to admit they enjoy diving into the lives of other people.  Here's a quote from Wikipedia's Confessional poetry page:  Thomas Poole: "I could inform the dullest author how he might write an interesting book — let him relate the events of his own life with honesty — not disguising the feelings that accompanied them."^[6] 

I've struggled a bit with the 'pimping out of one's self' in this regard...but I think it's more connection based.  It's not prostitution it's just relaying honesty for the sake of it.  We do a lot of playing around and showing certain faces to the world depending on the situation.  It's so nice to just be.  If I'm cranky so be it.  If I'm filled with a tsunami of joy I'll happily knock you over.  I'm blabbering, but hey!  It's all good. It's also OK to be not OK.



PS: The article linked to from the Radical Honesty text above is very interesting. I don't think I could really do it. Not all the time and not in every situation, but it makes a valid case. Being 100% honest all the time. Even relaying thoughts you'd probably never act on...not sure about that. But what do I know? If that guy is so honest with himself why does he drink so much?!

Tears for Fears is on the radio!! I love them :)

12:12

It's Rabbit Rabbit or time to make a wish and kiss your hand and tap your forehead with said kissed hand.  I'm at a loss for words.  I have a dumb feeling while I'm sitting here.  Not even sure why I'm bothering to type this all out.  Friends are coming in forty five minutes.  Is time supposed to be hyphenated?  I just read an essay about how books are going to disappear due to electronic distribution.  The book is a Jew in Nazi time (I paraphrase).  ?  What? Now, the only reason I knew this article existed was through google reader, which took me to a blog, which told me more about the essay, which took me to the ONLINE lit magazine that hosted the essay.  Why didn' he hire the pony express to deliver scrolls of this essay to everyone?  I'm being cranky and I love books, too!  But there is nothing wrong with choice.  Ebook or hardcopy, who cares?  If someone who isn't going to buy a print books still wants to read your work in electronic form are you going to say no?  Sharing ideas and passion and creativity can happen through any medium.  Let the reader decide which is preferable. 

Wonky Glitter Ball (Roger Hiorns - Seizure)

This is amazing. I wish I was in London and could go see it. I love how it's toxic and in a condemned building. That would never happen here, there would be a rope at the door or something. He's up for a prize the Turner Prize this year. Here's what the telegraph had to say in response to his nomination:

The sculptor Roger Hiorns works in so many different mediums it is hard to know where to begin: soap bubbles, fire, detergent, perfume and dangerous chemicals. In Seizure, his project sponsored by Artangel last year, he covered the interior of a bedsit in an East End council estate with copper sulphate. After a couple of weeks, blue crystals had grown over every surface, transforming an architectural space most of us wouldn’t have looked at twice into an Aladdin’s cave that – as in all the best fairytales – had more than a whiff of danger about it. To see the work, we had to clomp around wearing boots and protective gloves, scared to brush against the walls, transfixed by its crystalline magic, and aware that even during the short time we’d spent in the flat, the chemicals were eating the walls and floors away just as our own lives were being devoured by time.

 

I can't believe I miss this everyday!

Such a gorgeous morning.  Happy Monday :)

awake

During dawn as
workers scrape
ice.

New Moon

 

 

Ants

There was a carpenter ant infestation at my last house, which was really a cottage, but that doesn't matter for this story.  Anyway, the ants mostly stuck around the sink area because they came in through the floor near the water pipe.  If I ever left a dish in the sink for more than ten minutes the ants would scurry up the wall and into the sink to transform a blue dish (if it was blue) into a pulsating, black disk of terror.  It didn't matter if there was food on it or not.  But if there was food, like say...tomato sauce, well then you were just asking for it.  I used to drown them in steaming water, spray them with hair spray and watch their little legs start to stiffen up, I'd pour dish soap on their segmented little bodies and, of course, I'd crush them under my slippers if they were on the floor.   

Dead ants smell.  They smell really, really nasty.  Like sweet death but more chemicalized.  I hated washing the dishes and not just because of the ants in the sink and on the floor.  Coming into the whole kitchen area set you up to be a target.  I'd be washing and killing and then I'd feel something on my chest, look down and scream.  I'm sure I dropped a dish or a glass at least three times during those experiences.  Ants on me.  All over me.  The dishes would suffer, pile up, get dropped.  It was a kitchen of death, a sink of death.  I can't count how many times I'd find ants in my clothes and have to rip them off on the spot and throw them  in the washer (which also happened to be in the kitchen).  I think the people who lived there before me became aware of the ant situation and put the washer in the kitchen for that reason.  Ant clothes...they didn't want to infect the whole house.  Because you know once you let them into other areas they make paths for their friends.  Nobody wants an ant path leading to the bedroom.  Nobody.

Bug infestations are more of a psychological problem than anything else.  Once you have a bug on you paranoia makes sure you feel them all the time.  Crawling and itching and biting at you while you are reading or trying to fall asleep.  Trying to catch a calm moment alone and then BAM.  You can't escape the linger of the ant.  I feel them now.

I am not sure if there is aything to learn from the ant experience.  There aren't lessons in everything, you know.  I don't look up everything in my animal spirit books.  Sometimes I just like to kill things and tear my clothes off and be done with it.

It's Saturday

It's Saturday and my vertigo is back
with hot ears and swollen face.
Uneasy tea laughs in the belly
warning, "try to have a good one."
Of all the days to be fevered at
life, it's Saturday and I'm sick.

show and tell

I'm trying to share nature but it may not come across in a meaningful way.  There are too many moments to fit here.  What is missing? 

Something going on

Too much

It's how I'm distracted

Past them

I wear: three shirts with
differing sleeve lengths,
two varieties of undergarments,
a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks,
gray serger-seamed pants with wet cuffs,
an orange elastic,
green and black glasses.
Underneath is: skin, hair, nails, eyes, teeth, tongue, ears, lips.
Soft, dizzy and cold.
Beyond this innermost nothing:
I see my eyes and look deeply
past the green of them,
while speaking I seem comedic,
what's left is a frozen over moment of silence.

Extases

Extases, a photography book by Ron Raffaelli and Nicole Avril (Tchou/Vertigo, Paris, 1975) contains nine visual and textual Free Love stories made by the photographer and his lover.
-http://www.purple-diary.com/

“You, the photographer, you know this : the duality is our house with the open sky. We have to live there. Together we imagine another world. A place full of devastations and secret tenderness. It is not yet the time of great calm, there are storms, turmoils, and nights of clamor. There is who we are now and that which we dream to be, there are also all those we know and who get under our skin. Certain nights our room is overpopulated.”

Before commenting I think I need a cigarette....haha.  I've never seen a photograph like this.  I've never been so stirred by an image portraying a sexual act.  My generation missed out on the free love of the sixties and seventies and are (for most of us) still discovering comfort in our sexuality.  Porn has been so available during my lifetime via cable and internet but also including the outrageously oversexed television programming, movies and pop culture in general.  There is a good girl and then there's a slut.  And while porn can be used as a highly effective tool for arousal it doesn't provide much insight for relating sexually to others in a truly intimate way.  It's no wonder why we are so screwed up.  Sexuality is shown to us lacking a vital element: heart. 

The deer in the picture seem to be strengthening the stereotypes of how women and men respond differently to sexual stimuli.  The buck is watching the couple and the doe is watching the buck.  A sort of, "what are you looking at?"  But in many civilizations the deer represents innocence and a gentle luring to new adventures.  The first place the Buddha preached was in a deer park where he also lived for a time.  So if this understanding is applied to the photo it seems to say, "relaaaaaaaax, come on in!"  It could be that this is the perfect photo for a modern day sexual revolution.  Or I could just be reading way too much into it as an excuse to keep looking at an amazingly erotic piece of art.

Miu Miu 2010 from Paris Fashion Week

Miuccia Prada designer/creator of Miu Miu, an experimental and expressive clothing line, showed her 2010 collection at Paris Fashion week. I like the reviewer's terms, "sweet and sexual, virginal and vamp," because that is what keeps Miu Miu so fresh.

Many of the larger fashion houses have a more singular view, whether it be classic (Calvin Klein), sexy (Versace) or sophisticated (Chanel). This is obviously oversimplified but the point is that other than Mark Jacobs, a younger, edgy look combined with sophistication that only a brilliant designer can impart is very hard to find. Miu Miu flawlessly combines these elements.

Reaching for a contradiction that perfects the line between gaudy and quirky is something this woman does well. Gucci used to be the same way until Frida Giannini was promoted to design director some years ago. Miu Miu fills a need for those of us who didn't grow up brunching formally every Sunday morning or regularly attending benefit galas. We don't need ball gowns or overly formal clothing for going out but we also don't need oversexed attire.

Miuccia gets that women want subtle sexuality in clothing that works well to promote femininity and not trampiness. It's much sexier to be playful in this contradiction, 'virginal & vamp,' than to be overt.  We want expressive pieces to wear with jeans or a killer pair of shoes to offset a more simple outfit. Her work makes such an artistic statement that I always look forward to seeing it.

PS:  the models in this video are SCAREY.  I don't usually have a problem with model's sizes because I can be a little on the small side...but holy cow, watching them is a little uncomfortable.  Maybe I'm just getting old?


 From the Telegraph:

True to form, Miuccia Prada’s collection was a contradiction in terms; sweet and sexual, virginal and vamp.
A sweet cat print and a swallow in flight contrasted with the image of a reclining nude. Bra details across a see-through bodice, with sequinned flames, were set against innocent puffed sleeves.

The youthful charm of smocking, on Victorian-style sleeves, and on yoked necklines, was at odds with sheer, stretch tulle, embellished with silver beading. And while the models had their hair styled in a demure plait over the left shoulder, a voice on the soundtrack was husking “I want you, I need you, I love you.”
The juxtaposition was echoed in the colours, the prints and the fabrics; a prim, schoolgirl collar in a red/cream swallow print on a modestly-cut dress, sleeves in the cat print in blue on black, a bejewelled front, and a plain, cream back.
....continued here

Some of my Creeley Favorites (audio)

At Harvard University, October 27, 1966

A Form of Women

Goodbye

For Love

The Crisis

archive of recordings at PennSound

I've been so strange lately

The only drawings I've done in the past two weeks are for a book project explaining the lack of color on the blog.  Life has been whizzing by!  So i'm in a bit of a funk and while lost in a mental cloud a minute ago something actually cheered me up:  I could probably find Mean Girls on youtube.  lol

here's hoping!

What's happening to publishing?

This is hilarious and probably an author's worst nightmare.  From The New Yorker's, Shouts & Murmurs page.


Subject: Our Marketing Plan
by Ellis Weiner October 19, 2009


Hi, Ellis—

Let me introduce myself. My name is Gineen Klein, and I’ve been brought on as an intern to replace the promotion department here at Propensity Books. First, let me say that I absolutely love “Clancy the Doofus Beagle: A Love Story” and have some excellent ideas for promotion.

To start: Do you blog? If not, get in touch with Kris and Christopher from our online department, although at this point I think only Christopher is left. I’ll be out of the office from tomorrow until Monday, but when I get back I’ll ask him if he spoke to you. We use CopyBuoy via Hoster Broaster, because it streams really easily into a Plaxo/LinkedIn yak-fest meld. When you register, click “Endless,” and under “Contacts” just list everyone you’ve ever met. It would be great if you could post at least six hundred words every day until further notice.

If you already have a blog, make sure you spray-feed your URL in niblets open-face to the skein. We like Reddit bites (they’re better than Delicious), because they max out the wiki snarls of RSS feeds, which means less jamming at the Google scaffold. Then just Digg your uploads in a viral spiral to your social networks via an FB/MS interlink torrent. You may have gotten the blast e-mail from Jason Zepp, your acquiring editor, saying that people who do this sort of thing will go to Hell, but just ignore it.

The vi-spi is cross-platform, but don’t worry if you think you’re not on Facebook, because you actually are. Jason enrolled you when you signed the contract last year, or at least he was supposed to, and he told Sarah Williams he did before he had to retire and Sarah left for nursing school. You currently have 421 Friends, 17 Pending Requests, 8 Pokes, 5 Winks, and 3 Proposals of “Marriage.”

...continued here

The overlook on route 67

A pair of birds watch the sunset from a leaf-blown tree branch.

They both raise a wing and preen, casually glancing up or down at one another.

Outlined in nursery room colors both aviators and perch are one.

White whiskers fanning out from the apex

with the profile of an old fashioned feather duster,

a seed- its dormancy overshadowed by flight.

The birds are still chatting in the skeletal tree

as the stack of clouds change position and hue.

Mountain forests clothed with a cadmium spectrum offset the horizon.

One bird departs positioning closer to the hiding sun.

A veriegated petal, so soft and creamy blue, pink and peach.

The tiny winged seed makes his way to fertility.

John Ashbery and France

It's natural for everyone to want to live in France.  I got a call from my best friend, who is currently in San Fran, saying she and her boyfriend are now on the moving abroad train.  Anyone else want to join?  Our time line is 2-3 years.  We are sharing knowledge, strategy and enthusiasm with anyone interested.  So save your pennies and learn French!




Poets.org has tons of events and is kicking off the Poetry Forum on the 15th of October.

John Ashbery, Jeff Clark, Stuart Krimko

Poets:	Jeff Clark, John Ashbery
Featured Poets:	Stuart Krimko
December 7, 2009, 7 p.m. 11th Street Bar, 510 East 11th Street, New York City, NY
Join us for a special reading by the great poet John Ashbery, whose latest book, Planisphere, we are celebrating. He will be reading with Jeff Clark (author of Music and Suicide and The Little Door Slides Back) and emerging poet Stuart Krimko.
Sponsored by Triptych Readings
Info:	xx kaveh@triptychreading.com http://www.triptychreading.com

Goosebumps

Copy and paste move after move with an almost two decade old car, some oil paint stains in your not favorite colorful jeans.  Hat, scarf, "I pay no rent, I can come for a month."  Darling.  Dating.  Finding only potheads or...  Single.  Broke.  People weighing on me with their no hope, no hope, no hope.  I'm here with you don't make me drag you out to dance.  I might need you to bring me.  All of a sudden the cold breeze reaches me in the corner. 
 

Timbre

An asynchronous only
to explain
with

dull
voice falling
timbre. Work continues.

Little Rachel

According to my mom I was always smiling.  

This is me at 2 1/2

Pretty new pictures

or at least functional direction to the many web sites I seem to keep making.
If you check it out and get the old look, just refresh.  I swear, I updated!


a hub for all things sephyrus

The Second Moment of Recognition

When the smile fades
And the chest warms,

She begins to question
the need for sorrow.

I just needed to make one drawing...

and then I thought about David Sedaris and how funny he is.   So I went to Youtube and started listening to him reading.  Since that began, over an hour ago, the only thing I've accomplished is managing not to pee in my pants.  I love his voice and his sometimes sarcastic but moslty observational comedy.  He's touring now, I think he was just in CT a few weeks ago and makes regular appearances on This American Life on NPR.  (the link attached to his name above contains a full list of links to all of his T.A.L. appearances)


Here are two readings that I found extra funny:






 

The Breakfast Scene

Satisfaction comes from
a stand-in leaving a bar
with no jacket and a will
to fight.  There is a breakfast
of eggs, rye toast and cut-up
seasoned potatoes.  Too much
salt, tan and black pepper flakes
to dazzle the eye before dipping
into yolks with bread.  The
yolk is what satisfies, hearty
and thick.  Nutritionists will
advise against eating egg yolks
but the truth is that the whites
are much more harmful.  Messy
is the way to be.  The stand-in
will order his eggs scrambled
as to avoid the mess. It may
be a more polite way of dining
but it lacks guts, soul and
forward thinking tendencies.

Intermission

Not a word I uttered
reached his ear

so this is to say,
yes.

Out with a friend to
sing our

blues
away

with fake plastic
salt shakers in hand.

Make light of those
truly wanted things

until they pop up through
weeded sidewalks

and tear your jeans.

Drink white tea on cold
autumn nights

snuggled next to
your honey.

When your loves go
away to meet their

storybook princes,
think of me fondly

or write me affections.

I dare delusions whilst
doing the same.

Somewhere in Southern MA

Doesn't life often resemble this image?  Foggy images overlapping what appears at first glance to resemble a person but is actually a blow up doll in garish clothing tied to a telephone poll? 

For warmth

                blue hat
           baby        under
        a                        my
  wore                        pink
    I                               is
                                   for
                                 girls
                             hooded
                           sweatshirt.

A low cloud day

The double chocolate milanos for lunch
                        the 'ominous coulds.'
dim                             there is sugar
flickers                                   in this t
the power went out
so we went for a drive to Massachusetts.

Looks like you were born be a Wonkerer

This movie is perfect.  This movie was made because the producer's daughter suggested it be made into a movie after reading the book.  This movie is the only movie I've ever seen where the movie is better than the book.  Willy Wonka is like Jesus.  He's some guy who's figured it out.  Mr. Wonka created his dream world, saves an endangered species by hiring them to work in his dream world, doesn't have to talk to people he doesn't want to, has the best wardrobe ever, has crazy hair, fakes out an audience by coming out of seclusion with a cane and then falling and then doing a summersault and then jumping up, is witty, is honest, is caring and loving, is my hero, creates whatever he wants to, ties it all together because it is all under one roof, has a wonkavator, has the world's only chocolate river that is churned by chocolate, made up a fruit and turned it into my favorite candle scent, has lickable wallpaper for nursery room walls, has an office where everything is cut in half, employs Mr. Wilkinson who pretends to be Slugworth and a shrink,  changed my life and continues to inspire me daily, would be my religion if I had one, transports chocolate bars by television, is not self-conscious, doesn't need to win the lottery to be happy, creates world-wide pandemonium, understands the brilliance of children, invented exploding candy for your enemies but hasn't gotten it quite right yet.

The whole movie can be viewed on Youtube.com, here's a link to the first part.



"If the good lord had intended us to walk, he wouldn't have invented roller skates"
From what I learned off the dvd commentary, the suds used were very itchy.  It's the stuff sprayed on planes to melt ice.  Genius!



"I told you not to, silly boy"
I had the song he sings while on the bike typed as my screensaver at my last office job.  One day my boss walked by my vacant desk and read it.  When I got back he asked if he should know what it was.  He was confused.  Just an example of how wrong the job was for me...lol



Last but not least, here is the scene that gets cut 90% of the time if you see it on tv.  It's hoakey but it's a musical so it's supposed to be. 




PS:


Haha, it's just a test.  You really win.  The chocolate, but so much more.  Try...The Grand and Glorious Jackpot!

Sephyrus Press has a blog

I don't know if this is streamlining or expanding, but I made a blog for Sephyrus Press.  The links to books that were on the side of this blog have been moved over.  It's exciting, it's colorful, it's alien-zine filled! 

It's all there in purple and blue, clear as crystal!  You stole fizzy lifting drinks, the ceiling now has to washed and sterilized- so you get nothing!  Good Day!

(courtesy of Willy Wonka, or really the screenwriter Roald Dahl, himself except for the purple and blue part.  And of course, you get much more than nothing)

Evidence

 

Why oh why didn't I label?

Was I too cool to label my posts?  What was I thinking?  Now it's difficult to figure out what to label them as.  I don't really like labels.  I guess I want to organize.  Hmm.  How in depth do you go with this?  In my Quickbooks software it says to be very general to keep things simple.  I was fine with that in accounting...(I'm bad at accounting) but blogging is so different.  Even if there are 7 poem posts I don't know that I want to call them poems.  I started out just writing, not even knowing they were poems.  I am not entirely comfortable with writing poems.  Maybe this is an identity issue.  Maybe I'm freaking out at being labeled myself.  Take off my labels.  I don't like them.  They itch.  They cause redness.  They make me fall over ottomans.  If I start labeling my posts maybe they will fall over, too.  I wouldn't want that.  Maybe being more searchable isn't necessarily a good thing.  Maybe I should make people dig.  That's fun, like a corn maize.  It's that time of year.  Let's get lost in eachother's blogs.

Poetic Astrology? Sure!

Three of the horoscopes in the weekly Free Will Astrology newsletter contain references to poetry.  If your sign is not included and you wish to see it, go here.  How fun :)   Rob Brezsny's book Pronoia has just been released in a revised and expanded edition.  It's chock full of greatness.
 

PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): "Tenderness and rot / share a border," writes
the U.S. Poet Laureate Kay Ryan in one of her poems. "And rot is an /
aggressive neighbor / whose iridescence / keeps creeping over." Your job
in the coming week, Pisces, is to reinforce that border -- with a triple-
thick wall, if necessary -- so that the rot cannot possibly ooze over and
infect tenderness. It is especially important right now that the sweet,
deep intimacy you dole out and stimulate will not get corrupted by
falseness or sentimentality. I urge you to stir up the smartest affection
you have ever created.

ARIES (March 21-April 19): The poet Stephen Mallarmé wrote the
following in a letter to a friend: "I don't know which of my internal
climates I should explore in order to find you and meet you." I love that
passage. It alludes to one of the central facts about the nature of reality:
The quality of your consciousness is crucial in determining whether you'll
be able to attract the resources that are essential to your dreams coming
true. In order to get what you want, you have to work on yourself at least
as hard as you work on the world around you. This is always true, of 
course, but it's especially true for you now, Aries.

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): One of the best modern Turkish poets was
Seyfettin Bascillar, who worked as a meat inspector in New Jersey for
many years before his death in 2002. Nobel Prize-winning poet Czes_aw
Mi_osz lived in Berkeley, California for over four decades while writing his
books in Polish, his native tongue. Iceland's great poet of the 20th
century, Stephan G. Stephansson, lived in Canada most of his life but
always wrote in Icelandic. These people remind me of what you're going
through: striving to do what comes natural and authentic in a situation
very different from the place where you first learned to be natural and
authentic. The interesting fact of the matter is that this feeling of
displacement could very well be key to your success.

Contents of the Free Will Astrology Newsletter are Copyright
2009 Rob Brezsny

almost asleep

waving, stomping
the grasp of a hand
to assist you from your chair
redness on faces

crossed aisle
fall onto water breezes
tears of frustration
burning eye

sleeping days

an emergence of
will
to rectify

a life
lived on the
floor

the weather

Thundering down my
hair is
wet.

spinal tap at work not involving needles but sitting backside to a large box.

It wasn't my work.
There was a staff meeting called after hours, it was a cafe or a futuristic pizza place, where everyone
was sitting on tables and waiting their turns for the spinal tap machine.
I sat next to a blond man on the table, waiting for my friend, and we held hands.
He then melted into a belt buckle and attached to my pants so I walked him around the table a few times. 
We sat back on the table, he unmelted, thanked me for the walk, reached into his pocket and gave me his card.

Observation, Authenticity and Decision Making

If you look straight ahead the illusion is gone.
The periphery contains the contrast of what
we chose to be. 



Authenticity often seems out of reach.  I was raised in Connecticut and all the thrift store shopping and indie music listening won't take that out of me.  There is an opening, though.  Now, tomorrow and for the next few years  the layers of societal morés are being stripped away.  Today is a fine example of what this will feel like more often down the road. 

I'm preparing notes to teach a new class on expression and was brainstorming in my head on what focus to take.  The word decision came to mind immediately.  Of the countless decisions we make daily how many are made based on personal preference?  When we are at work we use company guidelines; at the clothing store we chose the appropriate choice to fit a dresscode, conform to age appropriateness, conceal body-image issues, etc.  We eat what we think we should for health reasons, because a commercial tells us to, because there's a drive-through and we only have thirty minutes for lunch, because our kids will only eat certain foods...  It's no wonder that people have no clue what they want, they never even get a chance to practice on small things. 

Artistic activities can be a place to make decisions based on personal preference as long as one is not caught up in the audience or using standard materials.  There is nothing wrong with painting on canvas but we should not overlook the other materials just because we are trained to.  Do you think about the preferences of the reader when writing or do you simply let your own expressions out? 

We can start from scratch with this to develop a sense of communion with our spirit by making small decisions like what to eat for lunch or which socks to wear with a particular outfit based on what lights your soul instead of our default mental programming.  In doing so we'll begin to feel a connection to life again.  Passion and enthusiasm come from identifying and expressing true desires and authenticity emerges out of these occurences. 

Stray

Lost the tweezers.
Damn chin
hair!