years years years

i dig through the earth (between the open,crooked roots of the last willow). shining somewhere below, i can feel it, like sweat collecting on the coast of your spine. cool. salty. despite the summer sweetness of nights tumbling under unbroken clouds.

what was i saying?

where was this going?

must, must, MUST watch

i think i caught a bit of this over on [adult swim] one night... and to be honest, my life has never been the same. i see things ive never seen before and i feel things ive never felt before (like... love).

if you ever intend to speak with me again, you must watch all 6 episodes of garth marenghi's drakplace. here's part one of episode one. after this, youll have to do the rest of the digging yourself... but its well worth it... WELL worth it. you NEED this.

and heres a little gem that pops into my mind every now and then... ENJOY.

youre welcome.

belly of the beast

chris invited me over to his senior show in laguna. he's graduating from the laguna college of art and design in a couple of days and this was essentially the culmination of his artistic education. beautifully inspired (to say the least), i cant wait to see what he does next.

yeah, he really cant bitch about his commute.

the pretense began immediately.

luxurious.

"i may not know art... but i know a good ass." well, he didnt say that... but he would.

been here done this.

2 of 5 (notice... the bastard on the left...)

talk of the town and priced to sell.

yeah, you know... it's gonna be a masterpiece.

he said i could have it when he was done... yeahYEAH (and now its in writing).

bask much?

saturdays = youth

perfect summer album for long warm nights.
.gorgeous.

persimmon (collection of nonsense)

a sable horse. between the trees. a brush stroke of god /// its funny. how she threads her smile. time shakes off like a ripened persimmon.

.it was the crow.

a sable horse. winds its mane /// golden hair. glowing filament. falling like. feedback calling to itself (in) .lustful. .fevered. .tones.

a sable horse. a line of yarn. into (out of) the glen.

( w i d e )

the back
of my head
is
a line of clouds

forgotten blue skies
as black as
inky fingers

an echo
sleeping
in the sand

a midnight tide
slips in
thru
an open mouth

like pollen
into the sky
onto an eyelash

languid.lazy.laconic

its almost funny how this doesnt work. its almost funny how time slips by ///and its more than a year, more than a decade, more than a lifetime/// chasing arrows into the snow. but it only melts and im tired, tired, so tired. sleep tries to crawl over me, running its fingers through my hair, but i cant find the right song. look at me, im scatterbrained. its shaking my head, ready for the roll. here comes the piano, running circles, tripping down the stairs.

im sorry

where is my house

where is my home

there were lazy afternoons. there was time to laze about. languid languid hours. there was time to warm your hands. there was time to listen for echoes and hear the whispers in your hips. there was time.

its almost funny.

[ 2 . 1 8 . 0 8 ]

she takes it all away. there is no recourse. she walks through walls and passes through my skin... but it doesnt hurt, i dont feel a thing,,,, like water trickling from the branches of a naked tree... reaching through the fog... it soaks in and holds my bones. there are dreams, and i often find you there, i turn and see you stealing away with my thoughts, spilling out of your arms like fallen leaves.

she takes it all, she takes it all away. she comes over me like the scent of sunlight, her nails followed by lips, drawing maps, drawing shadows across my back,,, i feel her like an empty glass,,, you can still smell the wine// like an echo without a voice.

((she makes it all go away / and im gone))

one.sixteen.oh-eight

it washes in and it washes out. it takes me and it buries me,,, beneathe the trees beneath the sea beneath the here and now and the then and there. there is no movement in your eyes, there are no sighs that take their time to trace the corners, the hills, the mountains and valleys and glaciers of my ears and and and diving into the pool of your arms through the ring i do my tricks,,, trained and fraught so well., im undone unclosed unprepared for what i say what slips and tumbles from my lips, crows on a tether. but the seasons change, but the shadows crawl, and im older and fatter and slower and less/more complicated i lie less to myself and i know (or at least hope) that when all is said and done, and my children bless their dreams before they slip with a certain ceremony into sleep that i used to enjoy,,, i hope they find a peace, i hope im not tracing the same lines, longing for the same shores, longing for the sea, longing for the limbs reaching for the surface of a black tide. you were my light, but im learning to see in the dark.

when the dawn comes on the blank ocean. will the clouds part,,, or will the rain blur the line between heaven and horizon.

northern

tonights my last night in ukiah then on to san francisco.

part of me wishes i could get lost here for a little longer... and part of me worries about getting lost here a little longer. either way, i know what i want isnt here.

that wasnt cryptic at all, was it?

more photos later.

happy winter solstice :)