look, i'm a penguin

ink

2009-02-14T09:49:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-03T08:30:00.000-08:00

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:
www.myspace.com/tiredtrailscollective

& here:

http://tiredtrails.blogspot.com

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

school done, now the focus

2007-12-13T12:22:00.000-08:00

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.
hopefully.

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.

drawing

2007-11-16T11:10:00.000-08:00

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

once u pon a tim e

2007-11-16T09:10:00.000-08:00

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

2007-09-10T07:05:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-28T07:09:00.000-07:00

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
other.

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.

allegheny

2007-08-11T11:41:00.000-07:00

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...

(none)

2007-08-08T20:24:00.000-07:00

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.

the great american

2007-08-05T11:12:00.000-07:00

after 6+ hours on the road, after i've decided i no longer like driving, we head into the
mountains of new york and the little mountain towns that sit between them. here i
finally get my slow second wind, which is like waking up from a nap on a bed of ground,
sore, grouggy, but somehow refreshed. the towns were alive with no people.
i've never seen so many well built comfy towns lack people. it's like everyone up
and ran. and then theres horror movies. the bar owners are really gremlins.
that kid is a monster. oh my, look at those eyes.

i'm not sure what makes abandoned towns appealing. why do some towns make it
and not others? here they all have the same ability to pull the skiers in, the hikers,
the mountaineers, the yuppies. three town in a row, no one in sight, windows in
the middle of the cute antique shops boarded it. cobwebs spun silly over tables,
glass, focus. then one booming town with two ice cream shops, a grocery store
(see above) and a town ordinance posted across the street: "No Cursing, No
Skateboarding, No Alcohol, No Smoking. According to..."

Perhaps its the lack of breath in the abandoned towns that pull
my attention. There is this feeling of loss, of escape, the last store owner
with 40 good years behind him is closing his door, his aunt's farm was
bought by a fancy dancy ski tour company. its got turned into a place
with hot tubs and poker games, money thrown around like the wind
blowing the seeds of plants. or perhaps it became the land where the
rodeo takes place. who knows. all i really know is this town used to breathe,
it used to wake up at 6am and open its doors,
grow its food, grow its children and feed its neighbors. i take photos
and pretend i see ghosts in the windows, not waving, only telling me to get out.

i'm a backbone (?)

2007-07-31T08:25:00.000-07:00

what am i to do
when she calls wanting experience to leave the mess
-- she's made?
she's already tried alternate options-
what if she misses the shot, slips on the rope,
--- climbs half way up & can't get back down,
what if i'm not here to answer the pleas,
--- applications for something more?

has her spirit descended into where
---- < her thoughts are
drowning?

no one has what she needs.
--- words hold no water.
actions get tripped up by intentions.

and my anger gets us nowhere. just back
to the beginning, where she thinks no one cares.

say yes to michigan

2007-07-29T07:39:00.000-07:00

traverse city is one of my favorite places. my dad &
my other mom have had a nice little place across from
the bay for over ten years now. neither the cabin nor
the lot was taken care of when they moved in - the grass
was waist high, the logs were covered in a gross shade of red.
the neighbors thanked my dad when he fixed it up, it was
the dirty disadvantaged downer, casting shadows on
the well managed residences of the rich & the retired.
it was the lone ghost of the street, all the other houses
were alive.

many summers have been spent up here, acquiring
new hilarious memories & fables. we spent many
nights camping in the backyard while our father
redid the house. (he does everything himself, he
had just finished fixing the septic when we arrived)
our first bedroom here had rainbow wallpaper,
my sister & i loved it. we fought for it, but they
took it down.

yesterday was one of those ideal summer days on the
lake. we were that joking happy family who cooks
out & plays cards. the water was warm (it hasn't been in
years), the sky was clear, the temperature was just
hitting the 80's with a slight cool breeze. we went
swimming in lake michigan, sat in the sand & drew
in the energy that engulfed such a classical setting.

j & i took a drive that overlook the lake. the sun set
on the opposite bay, swiftly sinking beyond the hills.
we chased down the moon through a golf course
until we found it hiding, laughing at our pursuit.
it sat low in the sky, large but silent, facing the
remaining glow, then reflecting it to illuminate the night.

our battle cry

2007-07-23T15:26:00.000-07:00

------- ^^ ----- ^^ ------ a prayer for peace. ------------ ^^^ --------- ^^

we played "sons & daughters" as we left our
quiet forest road on our way to cross another border.
we played it as loud as our ears allowed.
we sang along, giving all we could muster.

"hear all the bombs fade away, hear all the bombs fade away"

i can't help but tear up when i hear that song.

what, people? no thanks.

2007-07-23T05:40:00.000-07:00

she wanted to venture outside the woods.
--- i said "what, people? no thanks."

we heard middlebury has a nice farmer's market. so we drive the
10 or so miles to check it out. we are in need of some fresh fruit
& veggies, craving them in fact. but it turns out there is not
much going on here. a lot of staring?
more crafts than food, more money cups for the sister
playing guitar than recycling stations. we do however pick up some
amazing goats cheese and some wheat bread that has a slightly
sweet honey taste that makes me happy. we place the fresh
spinach on the cheese & bread pieces and
eat our lunch overlooking a small waterfall. we can't stop smiling.

j says she has a hard time coming back to the woods after going
to civilization. i reply i have a similar problem. its tough for me
to go to civilization after being in the woods. she knows who
i am, she is not surprised.

i have been told many times that i would really like burlington.
but it is really the drive in that caused awe. (we don't
feel like going to the outskirts where the pulse of the city
resides, where the lovers of the land are)

down town surprises me. chain stores everywhere.
streets have been closed off to provide a boardwalk
carnival experience, walking down the middle of a mall. busy
bustling shoppers going in & coming out with fancy clothes,
mint foam latte double steamers & purses.
(some made of high quality hemp of course) but as we always
seem to do, we find our little haven in the chaos. the
peace & justice store lies smack dab in the center of this mess.
slow moving queer activists, with signs & markers in their
backpacks just in case (cause you don't really know where
rebellion will strike) & reggae music offset
the unbalanced craziness from outside. finally. we pick
up some damn good bumper stickers, a positive news &
head back through what now seems like an illusion.

we found lake access. a bench to sit on to take the view in.
we don't know how the kid next to us can continue to read
his book: we are madly in love. with the scene, with the water,
with each other- giggling, taking pictures, holding hands.
then we have moments of silence, where we just stare out into
the open breeze, catching glimpses of grand design & harmony.
the mountains rise gracefully from the other side of the lake,
reaching towards the night's constellations, the edge of the globe.
we are drawn to water, though she prefers the ocean, we still
get calm & focused here. the same kid in a look we try to pin-
point just for the hell of it walks by twice.

"alright" i say, "i'm ready for some people."

treehuggin chainsaw?

2007-07-23T05:30:00.000-07:00

this morning's green news:

the first article listed at treehugger.com is about a
hand powered chainsaw. (these have been, by the way, around
for a while...as they recognize) so yeah! no gas. but who
exactly is going to treehugger looking for a chainsaw?
-step it up kids!
but just in case you don't
want to hug trees anymore-- check out the link.

http://www.treehugger.com/files/2007/07/hand_powered_ch.php

the bean counters

2007-07-22T19:31:00.000-07:00

july 4th-8th:

i instantly feel at home in w's little farmhouse here in new
hampshire, though the waving stopped on the way in.
(we kept waving but we only received funny faces.)
oh well. w once humbly helped j feel at home here too.
when she ventured here a couple years back for her masters.
our spirits are high from the mountains after the short drive
in - j is anticipating a nice shower, me, a good bed.

w has a garden, a dog, a cat, a compost pit & a lovely little
swimming hole not even a mile away. the top floor is one
large room, with only a chimney running through it.
she knocked all the walls out to open it up.
its a beautiful space. it feels like possibility sometimes.
it's all we imagine to have once school is done. when our
two begins growing into three, four. an older farmhouse with
a quiet porch & a swing comes up from time to time. always with
smiles & sometimes investigations & pictures.

w is all she is talked up to be and more. its hard for her to sit still
at times, other times she feels perfectly content just knitting.
she is relaxed & gentle when she speaks. her frankness
& honesty is refreshing, nothing is shocking or out of line. she's
still quite a hippie but she's lost the bell bottoms & the need
for those secret LA parties. (at least i think so)
w always has a project.
half of one room is filled with yarn. she does gardening,
catering. and she steals honey from bees. we get along
as though we have always known each other.

though it rains much of the time we are here, we take
a small break to go to a humble river to wade.
its not deep enough to swim. nor warm enough.
the water is low here, as its been in the midwest.
farmers are struggling. waterfalls sound like leaky pipes.
creeks are drying up. i step slowly across
the scattered stones towards the middle of the banks. a
place of refuge, a place that erases thoughts.
two small laughing boys try to catch fish in their pitiful net,
sure of their abilities to act faster than them. i always
caught toads & frogs. they don't like to move much. and
when they do, it's quite drowsy.

j takes me to campus for lunch at a "legendary" restaurant.
i complain about the price of coffee, she gives me the eye.
i don't know when i began doing this, bitching about prices,
but i've been trying to quit. but it's amazing to me how much
profit some want from a cup of joe. i know folks are hurting.
i don't mind helping the little guys out. wait. these are the
little guys, right?

we take a hop, skip and a jump to w's work where she seems
flustered & annoyed, ready to pound however is in charge of
distributing this assignment to her down into powder.
we help her out a bit, putting paper into folders, punching
some mad numbers and trying to rearrange the disorder this
small room has become. strangely & in the middle of a manic
array of sentences w manages to say she's off to see the bean
counters. those silly overbearing bean counters. i laugh.
she looks up seriously. "that's what they are." i nod.
don't i know it. well hell, don't we all.

no trace

2007-07-19T08:39:00.001-07:00

july 2nd-4th:

Our last couple nights in vermont were warm & comforting. j had finally
sunk into the camping routine, which is not a routine at all.
just a free form dance in a circle with no boundaries.
she's not used to that. (in the city one is formed almost immediately,
if it was not, one would get lost in the chaos of unpredictability
and get sprayed by a water gun coming around w. 110th street.)
she had found the feeling i'd been waiting for her to remember.
that reassuring restorative renewing wonder nature provides.
she awoke one morning like a child, ready to explore, discover, investigate
-- her bright freckled face smiling. as the sun rose to its bold position,
she took off to uncover the secrets that hid behind the blanket of trees & shadows.

we left no trace of our being there. only nola & the husky knew where we were.
and they don't speak much.

Freedom & Unity

2007-07-14T10:07:00.001-07:00

with a state motto like that, it's no wonder everyone is waving to us, like we are locals...or family. "i wish we all waved." we love this state. we don't want to leave. and oh how i wanted to sing the state song on the mountain tops. next time. next time.

they're coming for us

2007-07-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

i don't know what i would do if this
place did not exist.
if these majestic places disappeared...
my heart would crumble,
i'm sure of it. where would my home
be then?

waking up breathing this air is
intoxicating. it helps me to forget
the stiffness i feel from sleeping
on the ground. and the trouble
i'm having, trying to get on my feet.
my lungs are ten times as big as
they are in the city. and i can feel
how happy they are inhaling and expanding.

the clouds move in right over my head, i can touch
them, i swear. they dance on my fingertips then
roll between branches in silence. they are holding
water for the growth beneath them. everything is
looking up. they always seem different from this
angle, colors stand out, some are transparent. i
watch the storm pressure build them higher
& higher -up up up until their tops burst & they
look like tasty edible muffins.

our site was waiting for us. it's perfectly nestled
in the woods, good shelter for tent, small open
space for sun. the fire pit was already up, though
much had to be done to pick up their leftover
mess. it drops to the low 40's at night so the fire
is needed. i am the fire maker & i take pride in
my duties. the bugs didn't know we were coming
so they had little time to plan a welcoming party
with cake. we shared little conversation until
after the rains.

they've made a rifle range out of one of the
camping areas. there is no sign.
(oh, the letters to write, the people to call)
shells scatter the ground, along with the kindling.
its an odd space. high grass also fills this mid-size
meadow. there's a pile of dirt near a bunch of
trees standing alone, a little circle within one.
they bring more than rifles now. they are bringing
automatics. we heard them for hours one night.

i'd like to fire the shells into the sky until they turn
to dust. i think nola does too.

nola (one of our neighbors) has an old beautiful big
husky. she has a saddness about her. but she's a tough
womyn, tender hearted and aware. she shakes her head
while she explains the losses. trees, animals, silence.
though they (vermont) have kept the walmarts out,
developers loggers & the like still push until another
caves & profits. (she likes us. we are the good campers
who don't leave budweiser cans and other random shit
throughout the forest.) she's worried that sooner rather
than later these sanctuaries will be gone. these perfect
spaces. gone to greed & consumption. she is from the city.
she came here to escape it. to hear coyotes and crickets
at night instead of horns and sirens. like we have.
like we will continue to do.
with a tired look in her eyes she warns:

"they are coming for us."

i wish i could of told her that the good people are
coming to. we need and love this land.
we stand beside her.
fighting. fighting like hell.
without automatics.

green, everywhere

2007-06-29T07:22:00.000-07:00

the sink drain in this small room of ours is labeled "american standard," and i'm happy to report i've been spitting on it all morning. what joy.

it was a rocky and sweaty start to what she likes to call our road to relaxation. but we have landed somewhere safe- where j has thousands of memories hiding in the hills. she brought me here last fall, proudly, to show me its beauty.
i also got to see the beginning of a not so tidy little story of a shy red head from the midwest. we sat on its hill last night, listening to bull frogs and giggles from the secret woods, finally feeling
like everything had stopped
and we were just there with
nothing swirling or falling around us.

vermont is next. the green mountains are calling.