Elements:

Spoken Wor(L)ds.

We reproduce catastrophe because we ourselves are traumatized – both as a species and individually, beginning at birth. Because we are wounded, we have put up psychic defences against reality and have become so cut off from direct participation in the multidimensional wilderness in which we are embedded that all we can do is to navigate our way cautiously through a humanly designed day-to-day substitute world of symbols - a world of dollars, minutes, numbers, images and words that are constantly being manipulated to wring the most possible profit from every conceivable circumstance. The body and spirit both rebel.


— David Watson (The Pathology Of Civilization)
 
 
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stars. smiths. shreading. solo.

i'm in my backyard.
under the stars
shreadding
by myself.

my cellular device is off.
all i hear is Steven Patrick Morrissey of The Smiths.
the feeling is great.
Not a care in the world.

.gold in the air of summer.

. one black, one white, none gold .

world within the world

....is a saying Kat and I have. We literally have our own world within the world we know.

."Doors Jim Lives!" Someone wrote this on a wall near my house...long live the Lizard King!.

through the fields which disappear

                                                     soon after they appaer  because nature has a way

                                                    of changing the same way it remains.

                                                              . underneath and unexplored.

.when the sun descends into its darker side, who will gather my served pieces?.

                               i live
                               in a beautiful home
                              with no natural light.

. Our Tradition, Our Staple, Our SigNATURE .

. as living cargo they journey to the moon risen sea to your ear. many will not make it. i am shore.

. this blows my mind .

i bottle emotions and place them

into the sea for others

to unbottle on distant shores.

.bondies that held such odd forms.

.she breaths clouds of mystery and when the mystery is gone, so is the fire.

.I'm just a three-eyed boy, Looking for a twelve-toed girl.

.it is your freedom

that I love

i have not yet

learned to love

without holding on.

. we are capsules of energy .

.Never Eat Soggy Waffles.

Morning Song.

I like your sunday personality better.
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