Friday, August 30, 2013

3 O'clock






The purgatory of the day
the time in which is neither here nor there
and if we didn't have a sense of time
we might not pay so much attention to you
be so hard on you
but with such a middle set sun
gleaming a light of "what to do"
thick syrup tungsten light
I'm sick on you


The stomach ache of too early and too late
when 3'Oclock comes round
I want to leave this town
when 3'Oclock comes round ill faces comes to town
poor 3'Oclock you makes us feel down


3'Oclock your face needs a lift
your time needs a good kick
you gotta move on
keep on keepin on
get some appeal
no loitering here

maybe some long satin gloves on those arms of yours
something to jazz up
that daunting short, three chimed tune, you jig
the  anticipation kicks in everyday just shortly after 2
your  bittersweet
dear 3'Oclock

perhaps
its not you...











































































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Friday, August 23, 2013

Sad Palette


wilted lavender
potential muguet


ritalin yellow
eclipsed by the moon


dusty blue
moth eroded grey
wet white
over watered green
eyes


un shaven setting sun














































































































































.
Rules for Actors


listen to the sound of a record playing before the song starts

and the frapping sounds of bad speakers interrupting your favourite song

listen to the sound of magazine pages ripping out of a magazine

feel the act of gluing

and the sound of scissors cutting

the way a pencil writes words and drags across a page

lead slowly dulling word after word

listen to the murmur of people talking and laughing down the hall in a foreign language

while you sit in your room alone

not understanding...in more ways then one

listen to the sound of the church bells outside of the window

the sound of distant traffic not to loud but still there

listen to the sound of counting small change on the floor

listen to the sound of a clock ticking ( a minute never felt so long)

listen to the sound of water running through the heaters

they sound like they are working but you are still cold

the crackle of fire and wax from burning out candles

listen to the rhythm of a needle and thread repairing torn clothes

listen to the sound of a stack of books falling as you kick them over in the dim light

on your way to the bathroom

watch Marc Bolan and Ringo Starrs behind the scenes of "Born to Boogie" 1972,

* note this kind of friendship, look at how Ringo sits back on the car proudly as his friend leaps

across the frame so laissez-faire

watch Henry Millers "Bathroom Monologues" note how the clutter of images in his bathroom

are still able to maintain an individual existence even though they communally exist in small

spacial chaos

notice how the breath despite

think about relationships

Fall asleep to the film recordings of Jiddu Krishnamurti any recording

and the next day Chopin Nocturnes No.11

and the rest of the album from that point on

play it out

alternate night after night for a week

think about the significance of the man with an eye patch at the last scene of

"The American Friend" (Wim Wenders)

write out your thoughts

study the female protagonist from "Zabriskie Point"

her long hair

wide eyes

tanned skin

curiosity

innocent rebellion and willingness

then think about how people say "they can't"

watch Gregory Corso's excerpt from "Fried Shoes Cooked Diamonds"

look at how he has the crowds attention with a t-shirt wrapped around his head

in a dried up field (everything is possible)

Write a letter to someone dear to you from your room

send it

wait the appropriate time for arrival and then picture the moment of surprise that it brings

to the person who receives it at that very (assumed) moment

happy//sad//angry//etc etc

make yourself lonely for a week and then a week later make yourself feel socially overstimulated

for a week

describe the colour palette of both experiences




feel like you have nothing



and then figure out how to make nothing


everything


 take notes.

































































































































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Thursday, August 22, 2013

Portrait of a Stolen Dress


a parallel between necessity and rush

the quiet bashful beauty of want

the violence of need


































































































































.
Palette 222


Swans Down U1-30
Wild Rasin C2-50
Lazy Daisy K1-100
Wispy Peach H1-10
Bitter Briar B3-30
Kenya Tan J2-100
Bellefontaine S2-100
East Wind A1-30













































































































.
June 3rd 2013








NUMBER 14


sit right
sit tight
trust that the train is on the right track
direction solitude
direction make life better for you
namaste/amen/horoscopes/prayer rugs/big hugs/saunas and acrobats/ brush shoulders with the old trapeze dream
which ever suites you
which ever helps you on your way
gotta be happy
gotta get it right
do good
feel good
don't slouch
or pout
don't let your heart
take you out
be generous
a good friend
don't walk to far into the wild
nor to close the mild

think these thoughts thoughtfully in your seat on the number 14
direction Ernst May Platz
en route
direction hard times for others
directions alcoholics sitting in the sun like lizards
at the Haltstelle

three men sittin on the pavement
lookin kinda rotten
lookin kinda grim
but lookin kinda patient
I kinda look at him
he kinda looks at me
thoughtfully

he's still young under the sun
under leather skin
I don't feel that good these days
I wonder how he feels
and then just at that moment
tungsten sun blazing bright in his crystal blue eyes
the only thing clear to me this day
his eyes

he stood up
while looking away
moved gracefully up to the window
somewhat handsomely behind years of waste
looked in my face
and kissed the glass between my lips and his
only the train glass stood between us
isn't that always the way

he then sat back down on the pavement with a subtle nod
and a soft corner smile
and then he looked away
gently as my train carried on direction setting sun

I smiled
I gleamed
I blushed
I felt ease
who are we
to know who's who
whats what
or how one has become any different then when we begun

































































































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