untitled ink drawing.

i've been doodling a lot, just sorta thought i'd give
it a shot, and i really find joy in it. i just sorta let
things happen. & i like it because each person sees
something different. what do you see?

i'll post more soon.


bring it back

the other day i noticed that this blog is still linked to
on friends' pages, that people still press the link and
get some old posts from forever ago and say 'shit,
another dead blog.' but its not people, not yet.

just to catch ya'll up:

- i started a little music & arts label - tired trails collective.
come say hello here:

& here:


limited release cassettes, cdrs, zines, art books, poetry books,
etc. are all being made with as much recycled products as


school done, now the focus

this semester went by so fast. it helped
that it was not dragged on by unnecessary
finals. next semester my classes will be more
difficult (spanish). i also have to go in earlier,
but i'll be out in time for gilmore girls
and a ride on the bus without standing.

now i'm obsessing about gifts, my music
and my sister, who has already made
up her mind to go into northeastern
uganda, after being "prepared" for only
so long in cape town at the "base."
shes just a little girl to me. shes
22, but she's never been out of the
country (canada doesn't count)
or been through a nasty neighborhood
or a been surrounded by strangers or
people with incredible amounts
of trauma. and now im like
what?! are you serious?! your a
little white girl. you brought your
jewelry to africa for christ's sake.
(which got stolen by the way)
my faith, my understanding of the way
protection works, is having a hard
time stretching itself around my
bright eyed sister. i want to be there.
armed and focused outside her hut,
with 12 of the biggest body-builders
i can find, with 7 spiritual warriors
putting the white light of armor
around her, and maybe an army
or two just in case.

i miss her.

we are headed to florida for a couple
weeks to hang with j's parents. then
on to michigan, were my sister won't be.



good ole kerouac. always doing something or nothing. i love this.

once u pon a tim e

i wrote here. its been three long short months.

time is not linear, it revolves
in fleeing circles mysteriously.
they set the clocks back and screwed
up dinner and dream time. sun
goes down at 5 pm.

i hope i can find some moments to
write here again, post some pics,
perhaps some music. j wants me
to start a podcast / radio station.
maybe a blog.
which i would love to do, except
i don't know if i have time.
music is such a huge part of my life,
so it would make sense to share
it. but there are so
many frickin blogs. i do notice
that i find these bands & like them
and then they show up on a blog
a couple months later.

so i can't promise anything. but
i can tell you that i've been
writing about a song a week
and loving it. my friend chris
& i have been working on a set
list. hoping to play out. create
something beautiful out of
the notes we play between silences.
we shall see.

(& speaking of non-linear time,
i will be posting some earlier posts
that never got posted, & events
that have not yet made it to
the page.)


stick wars

he was full of anger... and glue.
wandering with a slight slant, waiting
for the bus in front of barnard.
the little lady said he was stiffing glue.
we only saw the spit. the tiny particles
of madness coming at our faces.
and his face. crinkled and monster
like, lost and forgotten. his tight fit
lips flickering, stammering in random
directions. and then right in our faces.

"you ffffucking bbbitch. yah, you, you fffffucking lesbians."

spit. spit. spit.

i moved j behind me. stepped up close
to his now half frightened self, with my
puffed feathers and boldness. feeling
nothing. my little passive self.

"if you do that again, i'm going to hit
you with this stick, do you see?" (i don't recall this)

little lady very close and motherly, "sniffing glue,
been sniffing glue..."

spithead: "ffffuck youuu.."

j pulls me back to her, far away but still too close.
still numb and not thinking.

what he doesn't know- huffing glue is not the solution buddy. its just not. and if you spit on me again i will whip out my crouching tiger, hidden stick move. you'll be on your ass so fast you'll be like, "what glue?" i pray for you even though.


24/20 in the woods

i'm not sure why it took me so long to post
this, but here it finally is - some short thoughts
about the gathering. pictures to come.

it is obvious they are here, in this specific
place, for me. and i, at this specific time, for them.
it has never been so clear. it is also clear
that these static ideas like place & time don't
exist as i thought. this is the magic of
gatherings. this is the magic of us gathering.

this magic i speak of is not black or an illusion or a trick.
it's the way the universe works.
i only call it magic because of its abilities to affect me &
others. it's not always obvious
as to what i am supposed to be picking up. i've created
quite a web of a filter over the years mostly because of
the media and the city. with constant inputs passings
and movement i begin to think its all just one big giant mess.
but i know better. i've experienced things only few would
nod their heads to.
there are people who have completely
turned my life around in sudden quick passings.
( be it the someone i met at a gas station
off of 96 or in the bathroom at a show) there are those
who've have created so much love and compassion in me
& that is only the tip of the snowman's carrot nose.

here i have the 24/20 vision that allows me to see
between the lines and down the alley way. no, i didn't type
that wrong, i have beyond the normal perfect vision.
and i can feel this happening before i arrive, when my
heart strings start pulling. & when that happens
i know amazing experiences are about to happen
& they help me remember who i am and what i am about.

-- here is where i take refuge,
here is where i go for my guidance when i feel lost.

i left late for the alleghenys and it got dark quick.
i knew there was no way i'd be able to pack it
all in, especially if parking was miles away from
the actual site. so i imagined someone there
for me, that would just be there in the pitch black
night to accompany my lonely tired body so
i could relax and smoke until my eyes closed.

(i had other unconscious thoughts and questions
but they were in my heart beating waves out to
whoever was to find them.)

when i arrived there
was broccoli, the tripping 25 year old spectator of the stars.
she was kind and humorous and talkative,
questioning everything but her motivations as to why.
she was a nice companion, someone i felt safe with,
at ease with. and i laughed more than i thought
my body would allow me to. we spoke like
i haven't been able to speak in a while - basically because
there was a lack of other(s) to understand it.
anyone outside of the
wherever we were would have thought we were crazy, but
we never misunderstood each other, i kept finishing
sentences, she kept going "wow, you get it." of course.
i stayed awake as long as i could then we split to
our separate cars and i slept like a baby in my back seat.

after the day began and the heat forced me out of my car,
i got up and
sat in a meadow of grasses and sun. from there
until i left i met my friends over again. i met my karmic
protectors (the 2-3 guys who look after me) early that first morning,
who i remained with the remainder of the time, they as standing
friends and providers. they showed me their dreams and
the 'coincidences' that brought them there.

---they look into my eyes here. i hold their stares.
we are not afraid what we will find. we already know each

the gathering had such a nice homely vibe. it was small
& intimate with enough space for alone time, enough
silence for meditation. a couple of dread headed kids
made a pirate ship out of fallen tree & held captive anyone
who did not pay the fee going through 'their' path. they
raised chaotic splendor while their parents prepared dinner.
someone chose to come by horse, & he set her lose to
wander around from camp to camp slowly, she always returned
to him.
one of my favorite activities at the gatherings
are the dinner circles, even if i don't eat i participate.
we take each other's hands and ohm. for as long as it
goes. there's nothing like it.

i've been seeing magic everywhere now. in dreams and
waking and in the eyes of strangers. i pray for its continuance
and my ability to recognize it.



i'm off to pennslyvania for some more rejuvenating
camping. the weather predictions are looking good,
the area is beautiful, and i am ready.

weds. i return to pickup j & say our goodbyes here.
the summer is almost gone. but the heat is not.

pictures, stories & joyous choruses to come...



people were crazy on the roads today. i took a slow joy ride back from
the airport cruising 60mph to avoid having to move into the left lane,
where folks were coming up so fast they were blurry when i caught
a glimpse. it still didn't stop some from sitting on my bumper --
so i did what i usually do - raise my hand in the review mirror,
asking them to relax. it usually works too. i think they
are so used to being there they don't realize i'm there too, not
going any faster.

j is in florida visiting the fam. she's entered the jungle & left me
behind to watch the movies playing here. there's plenty to take
part in and observe. and because i prefer the latter, there will
be ample material to turn into tunes & anthems.

i am so far behind on our trip journals. but now that our work is over
i'll hopefully remember to catch up. while i've been trying to bring
everyone up to date, i've been missing the present happenings.
some thoughts will never make it here if i ever want to be writing
in & with the now.

for my play date with me, myself & i tomorrow, i plan to work on the
thousands of musical notes, sounds & orchestrations that have
been yelling in my head. i've barely picked up my guitar this summer
& i'm losing my mind. i want to play loud, scream & jump around.
but i haven't been able to jump in years. i've learned to be just as happy
sitting joyfully with my old acoustic - letting hymns of scattered
moments come through me from a source that has no face.

good night.