Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
So? What are you doing?
Well I'm blogging, what the hell does it look like.
and you have something that will add to the wisdom of the ages, perhaps?
Of course, but that doesn't mean I am going to place it here where just anyone can stumble across it.
Now, that is a question worth pondering and that is just what I shall do. Now.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
So a new year for some, a portal possible for others, Scorpio and all souls and the seasons roll.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
My thoughtform du jour has to do with the incredible limitations of human perception and how one can describe what generally lies beyond the wavelenghts from ultra low frequency (more felt than heard) to the higher visible spectrum. Sure we use radio waves and we can witness the wave motion of physicality in the surface of water; but what of the colors that are seen only with the inner vision. What of the communion with vibratory information that resides in what many religions would describe as celestial, angelic, heavenly?
Some tesseracts of multiple information drop into consciousness and bring light from other simultaneous space-time frames that one has also been, is, will be personal. Re-member or create, is there a difference when we have stepped out of the narrow confines of linear time?
My heart goes out to all and I can now picture Win reinvigorated and shining in her statuesque and graceful self. Thanks for sharing the planet with us. We love you.
Monday, August 31, 2009
So I ask my brother J. where Savanna's is, Alabama or Mississippi? Without hesitation he says Alabama, which by the way is what I think.
Days later he is relating some of the story connected and says "where was that? Alabama or Mississippi?" as if we didn't just go through that. I guess being a DiCara and past 60 merits some allowances.
Savanna was a rotund black Southern woman with a small eatery a 1/4 mile from a ferry landing on the East side of a river. Not much else nearby. A large open dinning area where you could see what was going on in the kitchen area; a jukebox and a 9 year old daughter helping out. No menu, just whatever was being cooked that day, all you wanted for a reasonable if not cheap price. Catfish, fried yardbird or pork chops, a mess of greens, black-eyed peas, hush puppies etc. good eats. Since when we descend on the place the food demand goes up pretty severely we would spend a pretty long time before completing dinner.
Like any band of misfits who are used to working and playing hard we took full advantage of the jukebox and consumed mass quantities. There was one visit where you could hear the young miss say "Mama, is all white folks that crazy?" I sure don't remember what Savannah answered, I think it was a laugh and a shushhh maybe accompanied by a little swat. But I'm sure she probably answered differently after we left. She sure treated us well and we tried to do the same. I sure could go for some sweet potato pie right now.
First day back in the mines was not too bad, but, the uncertainty continuum takes the opacity out of the pathway. Certitude has little place and my grip has a tenuous purchase.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The trip itself was good although it began a little rough. When we got to the airport my Explorer wouldn't shift into gear. So, I leave my bag unattended in the queue and run outside after getting a call on my cell informing me of this. I was freakin' a bit as it took me a few minutes of abusing the shift lever to finally get it to function. When I got back to the line I was kinda expecting someone to be upset about the bag, but it didn't seem to have made a visible impact.
After getting picked up in CT and back to J&D's we had a great dinner and visit. The next AM more Explorer issues, this time with the spare surveyor one. Not 10 minutes after heading out with the casino as destination the brakes stop working. The casino would wait one more day.
more to come...
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Not verse but labeled. Taglined put up and sent on it's little errand. Delivery immanent. Destination unknown.
What change the universe from the butterfly wings flapping away here?
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Bottom line; I love you.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Why is it I am recalling a conversation with Silver Fox, some years hence, around the cool deck at Juliette's in Atlantic Beach? We were rapping and delving and construing on subjects primarily gravitating in the metaphysic, when the vibrational frequencies and efforts involved in trying to reach ascendancy focused the discussion. He hits me with a "do you really think that higher vibrations are better than lower?" as if I was judging right and wrong here. I actually felt mildly assaulted by the delivery of that intentionally accusatory question. It was great in that it stuck with me and I thank ols SF for the gift. Sure I went into a bit of defensive posture for a few minutes, supporting the validity of all aspects of life, but simultaneously proclaiming a personal decision to accelerate and refine frequencies that I was able to influence. It's a normal spiral path of ascendancy/descendancy that plugs us into and out of the visible dimensional experience with the apex and nadir stretched beyond conception.
Well yeah I'm a Leo, born in the Sun ruled fixed fire sign and I have been around many a campfire. One of the more memorable from hoedad days was when we set somewhere in the vicinity of 50 cords of timber left on a planting site. That baby lasted long enough to still cook dinner over more than 48 hours later.
I also was displaced by a house over-warming of great magnitude. I will probably get back to that as the weekend from hell or stop asking me what's new.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Flammable/inflammable interesting that.
A touch of the old Crazy World of Aurthur Brown and a long parade of musical, poetic tributes. Arson, spontaneous combustion. It's just amazing.
I've had my little relationship with it, some incredibly positive and some so not.
Weirdly enough there are too many stories, memories and snippets that I feel presently inadequate to proceed into story-telling mode. So I will leave this theme and know that I've fed a salamander somewhere. Blaze on.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
- VR5 - I can't even find a remnant or DVD much less rerun
- Max Headroom
- Kung Fu
- Firefly - was glad to see this on the rerun circuit for a brief run; I've got the DVDs anyway
- Sea Quest
- Space Precinct - not much of a show but I'd like to see one anyway; Barney Miller in space
I guess this shows some of my tastes. I'm pretty sure that I also like a few mainstream shows too.
- some of the Brit-coms particularly Faulty Towers
I could even go for some old Westerns
I think I'll hit Netflix instant and catch an original Dr. Who. Nope i'm gonna catch an episode of Earth2
Happy viewing to you.
I'm just taking one of those quick breaks in my Sunday to sip coffee, catch up on some on-line activities, test some tunes on a compilation disc, smoke a cig. and enact an entry to facilitate rhythmic activity, still awaiting the cascade effect to fall out of this glaciated pace.
OK back to Mundania.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Back on the row, the following season, in the hinterlands of Alabama where the famous white breakfast is the extent of morning choices in the local eateries. White toast, eggs over, grits and biscuits with white gravy. I caved due to my pangs and was in consumption mode when a heavily accented voice was persistently asking for some attention. In an accent you could cut with a chainsaw I hear, hey was' tha' theer Dee-Kay-Dense some kinda cult? So in my most accommodating sonorous voice I replied that no it was not a cult; but that it is a sect of Zoroastrianism. The conversation terminated.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
- Setting Free the Bears - John Irving - 1968; yes I have read this before
- Yon Ill Wind - Piers Anthony - Xanth - 1996; goofy-pun filled have not read this one but have read a few other Xanth entries - will finish today
- The Divine Matrix - Gregg Braden - 2007; picking up where I left off a few months ago
- Einstein - Walter Issacson - 2007: also picking up where I left off
- Norse Code - Greg van Eekhout - 2009; finished, good read
- Zoe's Tale - John Scalzi - 2008; finished also a good read
I planted a million trees in AL, AK, TX, GA, LA, MS, & FL
- Z - Waco TX. ex-con with his (cha who-a who-a) killer
- JD my older brother (1st year & we shared the original trailer, it was way f**king small)
- the Tough Tomatoes - three ex-military lesbians (one did some chiropractic)
- Juicy and Busey - I can't remember her name but she was the hottest chick on the row, he was also called OD
- Bruce and Mother Superior - crew chief 1st year
- Big Mike - overboss 1st year, Napoleon complex
- Kevin and ? - I want to call her Denise but that's wrong
- Captain Quaalude
- the Banker
- the Dells - Smiling Js - Jim Judy John Joan - never cracked a smile but they did have some pickled weasel saddles in their larder
- the Bookends or Books for short and they brought a Short Story - D9 with them the next season
- Linda Lou
- Gravy, and Kat came along the 3rd season
- Charlie and Sue - crew boss 2nd and 3rd season
- Farm Boy - a refugee from "The Farm"
- Crimson White Feather
- ?????? the crew changed and there were a lot of others I can't remember names of (hey this was over 25 years ago)
Saturday, July 11, 2009
So how long do you think a memorial celebration would take? Should I make a sound track? Hmmm, but could I limit it to under 1,000 tunes?
What if they take us forward? There seems to be more daunt in this than a simple remembering and since all time is simultaneous why have we made that so? The curious case of Benjamin Button may have lingered in the brain pan and helped to stimulate this train. Casey Jones did not have anything to do with it I promise.
Tendencies are to either go far into the future and lay down some wannas bwanna and hope to fake it till you make it, co-create, visualize into being with maybe a side order of chant-o-matics; or of course to creep forward into the morrow since it has a certain predictability based on lists written or unwritten.
Tomorrow I can see me cleaning house prepping some groceries and screwing around on the computer. That was easy. Since I worked today the regular weekend needs to be done gets compressed.
Farther and further into the future distant way out west towards the end of my physical days; wheezing a bit with the effort required to upright after a fitful sleep wishing that coffee was already brewed and accepting that this is a good day to die. Thinking that an old fashioned pyre with feathers and prayer-ties would be appropriate and knowing that interference would ensue. No rush all of the time in the world and then some; OK so maybe a lawn chair is a bit tacky but it's comfortable enough to dismiss the body and engage the spirit. So long and thanks for all the fish.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
I was tickled when I found out that Micky Hart also was enthralled by a specific record, vinyl, when he was a kid. I didn't know that there were really any more copies being listened to besides the one I owned. The music of the rain forest pygmies. Reference the early part of his book Song Catchers.
I had some nice verbal trajectory brewing while I was at work but I can't see to retrieve it.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
One of the bookends, the shorter rounder one, I surely cannot remember his name, about 6'3.5" weighing in @ 18 stone, was around the nightly white man's fire with 6 or 7 others. Buzzes were aplenty, also as usual, and some music played. Guitar, some eefing or body percussion, bamboo shakahatchi and voices. Things were winding down to a mellowness when our book took center. He started dancing around the fire like a wounded bear, thumping , staggering with a little grace thrown in; when he decided that he needed a partner. I guess he hadn't gotten laid in a while. Seeing that the only women in attendance were either clearly gay or obviously involved he decided on some firey branched stick almost as tall as himself that was, yes, in the fire. I thought that he was going to cath afire himself as he began singing loudly "Oh wishing stick, wishing stick, my stick, my wish, my wishin' stick....." and began the rythmic horizontal dance of a madman. The show lasted for 15 or 20 minutes. Of course we applauded and helped to create the soundscape, having a merry time watching as he moved a little more beyond the norm, ironically joining with the majority of his fellow hoedadders.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
This is going back to the hoedad days, there have been some new rings in the cedar, I can tell you.
Bookends, yep background here, two large clean cut firemen/boy scouts from? Illinois I belive.
Big fifth wheel rig in the midst of a band of misfits, dope growers, ex-cons, back to the landers, military lesbians, a "the Farm" refugee and assorted other counter culture types. Most with primative versions of 70's and earlier RVs, including tow alongs, pop-ups, truck bedded units, my own was home-made, a school bus and a tenter or two in the mix.
For crying out loud, I was even locked in my own rig with my own lock with Gravy's wife as I was trying to convince her to leave, by Gravy his own self. It sure screwed up my plans for the next assignment as I had volunteered to go to one of the LA. parishes in the Lake Charles area with "the banker" early the next morning and I was going to try to convince M... to come along. Probably had an 80->90% chance before this incarceration came down.
There are some good stories from these dog-earred pages of my life. Stay tuned...
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Feel free to comment if you have stopped by to see what little is here and stop back again as I will make an effort to post a minimum of once a week.
Monday, June 8, 2009
I will cycle back to this theme from time to time.
I had in mind a book with some thoughts towards a supporting fulfillment site. The origin of the phrase was either from Eesha, John or myself, it gets hazy since it was coined many years ago. John still uses variations, primarily the cosmic grab bag as a focal theme for a metaphysical event. I am more drawn to the work inferences of the Tool Box. Admittedly my mugglish infused lifestyle is more removed from the work than it was when the theme played stronger within me. None the less I still feel that this could produce some useful information and tools for the aspiring open minded soul. Some topics include the judgement and/or valuation of tools for the individual. These could include Astrology, meditation, Tarot, pendulums, T'ai Chi, diet, vision quests, journaling... Some historic versions of personal CTBs would be altars, medicine bags, shrines, most any personal, intentional sanctified space and the contents therein.
It's kinda funny that one of the blogs I read often on my lunch 1/2 hour is from a hard core skeptic who boohoos much of this. ala Sienfeld "it doesn't make him a bad person."
Sunday, June 7, 2009
The CALM is from a thoughtform I have that would enjoy manifestaion as a brick and mortar bookshop one day. I feel farther from it than I would have predicted but the CALM stands for Coffee Art Literature Music. There is still time and stranger things have come to pass.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
I was somewhat dazed by the demise of David Carradine, more surprised than the passing of some of the other memorable notables in the past. Although Yma Sumac and Kurt Vonnegut along with Odetta all twanged some chords. I don't have the DVD collection of Kung Fu or I would be spending some time this weekend watching it. They did play some episodes on one of the more obscure cable channels last year and I caught a few of them noticing that they hold up pretty well after so many years.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Artist creature that I am felt compelled to start this blog.
You who find this page are welcome to relate.
Coming home from work last week I tried to put my thoughtstream onto the screen at facebook & to my dismay found that there is a word limit to each entry and instead of searializing, only intro-ed the piece.
The theme "Head Cold War"
...So I have a pretty short trip home from work and my gear shifting phase changing process often involves a new creation or a contemplative synaptic dance and occasionally a venting. Today I did a take on the phrase "Head-Cold-War" can you imagine? It's like you send in a team of surveyors to see what's up with the slow energy drain, & find that there are a few balance of power games happening...
Yes, in your head, the action-reaction dichotomy escalates and the power struggle builds like some folish nations playing "I can blow up the whole fuckin' world 15 times over, and you can only do it 11, hah." Surely most of you can either remember that silly fuckin' game, or have had it in history class, oh, what's that it is still being played? I reckon so.
So, taking the internal factions and easing towards a personal peace is the worthy path. Who knows, it may actually radiate something wonderful into the mass conciousness.