Punctuation is direction

Useless in poetry

Ok for screenplays

Imperative in texts

A letter from my love while abroad that I've titled:

lift conversation with a geeky german

"are you here for the medical expo?"
"no", I said
"oh, sorry, you have a medical kind of face"

and I just said

"you too!"

To the DIYer- Painting:

Paint goes farther than professionals
Twirl the brush occasionally while applying
Strike in every direction but finalize with direct strokes
Always go over creases boldly with fingertips (puttying)
A straight line somewhere and strategically placed
diverts (attracts) the eye away
from all the rough rugged intersections
You cannot go directly to the edge
build towards it; a few strokes prepare the brush
you're remembering to twirl with fingertips?
And I've said somewhere that good imperfection is
equally difficult as perfection to achieve-
but Always strive for perfection. The trick, it seems,
may be knowing when to veer.
Confident and swift is the object mechanically
if the hand and mind unruly, quit for a bit.
Everything is a full body affair, step back a lot
you're likely making mess- keep personal space clean.
You'll read and be told about angle (of the brush)
bullshit, what's important? viscosity, timing, (your) position.
This is the hard part.
If it doesn't look good there's a reason; find the reason.

Imperfection is equally difficult to achieve.

When I'm old,  I'd much rather walk through the streets of a city hand in hand and comment
"look at these idiots"
than wade through a hinterland and continually concoct various ways in which to describe
the various beauties and cleanliness of the hills, streams, and sheep fields.

Halfway through, I realized that Leonskaja was not reading music.

The lake, on this summer day, he equates to a steaming broth.  He's afloat; but this morning offers no indication of direction anywhere.

He's unnamed and he wakes to silence, blindness; and stillwater.

It is nice to walk alone but better to go with the knowledge that others have gone (well) before.

Old, ancient man-made road and buildings, way up in Wales....way, way up. 2012.

A poem is a venomous Hallmark

Poetry is goals achieved by disguised simile.

Promises are unkempt.

The moment we left the trees we were destined to frailty.

 The smart man will send a tenticle out...let the stupid man cut it off...then forget how to respond.

When we realize that our default setting is to fail in order that we may occasionally achieve-
perhaps we can forgive ourselves more readily (and not be so damn sure of ourselves).

Are you happy? is the wrong question; the answer will always be 'yes'.
Are you bored? is the right question; one that begs elaboration.

Dragon, Lion Cottage, 2012.

We are quite equipped...to shun.
But we tend to fall.

I would imagine that we've written in the last 25 years,
more code than words've been written in the last 2500 years.

Wales, august 2012, above cregannon, with v, paul/partner, shortly after belgium.

Label the box not so you know what is in the box, but so you know that the thing which you are looking for is not in the box.

I voluntarily shunned rubber gloves to allow the slight sting of the baby Portugese Man O'war that were attached to the longline that I was pulling up from the Cocos Island Marine Reserve to spice up my hands, and love sweeping  my palms gently through nettles.

My two biggest fears as a young person were not accomplishing what I wanted to accomplish before I died and not finding V.

 

The goal of the artist is to feel as though one could die easy after each creation.
The reward of mastery. Self betrayal of genius.

The trick is to not walk and chew gum, but to dream and still listen.

On Stubbornness:

Never stop finding reasons to love those who hate you.

On Spiders:

Filaments burdened by heavy ideas.

On Human Interaction:

Very few things compare to another singing in an unfamiliar language.

On Life:

Take a cubic meter of sea and you are guaranteed to get life.
Take a cubic meter of atmosphere and you are likely to get something living.
Take a cubic meter of space and most likely you will get nothing.

Three degrees of density.
All contain life, in exactly the same proportion to their scale.
The ocean is small, dense; life is concentrated.
The atmosphere is less dense but bigger; life is feathery, green, mobile,
but life within it is proportionately equal to that of the sea.
Space is less dense still, by a thousandfold; millionfold, billionfold
Its vastness may disguise the life within it to us,
But the universe is saturated with life
Exactly equal, proportionately, to the life within the sea and the air.

A poem I once worked hard to remember...all these years later (Jan 05, 05...12)

To outer senses there is peace, a dreamy peace on either hand
deep silence in the shadowy land, deep silence where the shadows cease
save for a call that echos shrill, from some lone bird, disconsolate
a corncrake calling to its mate, the answer from the windy hill
and suddenly the moon withdraws, its sickle from the lightening skies
and to its somber cavern flies, wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.

Back to my book and the poem is exactly...

To outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand,
Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.

Save for a cry that echoes shrill
From some lone bird disconsolate;
A corncrake calling to its mate;
The answer from the misty hill.

And suddenly the moon withdraws
Her sickle from the lightening skies,
And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
                     -Wilde

Picture Don Quixote elbowing Ahab aside to tackle Moby Dick himself.
A salad bowl helmet and sapling harpoon.

After pulling the little waterproof radio thing from the back shelf to downstairs, sourcing two screwdrivers and eventually freeing the catacombed aa's; stayed in by tiny little regular head screws the kind where the threads go on forever, finding four more batteries and blinding myself to reinsert them and those screws...I can now carry carefully my waterproof classical back up to the bath.

Skin of the teeth best be made of Tungsten.

Narrowly avoid a nervous breakdown by a thread.

I cannot stress the following statement...more...

All Christians should read the Koran.

My chainmail scarf.      Vanessa  Nov/Dec  2010  9ft.

Lifted 10 tons of stone today but did not one iota of work on a featherweight book.

Two office views, walling, up at Gary's place. Late Jan. 2012 Rain, sun, wind, sweat.

A warm welcome back to Wales. RB on 4 wheels.

Upstate New York.  Eastern wall end/start...by me. 01/12

On Miners:

Wool trousers saturated with coal dust the rain washed tired black footsteps behind them as shadow.

I don't mind the worm casks it's driving the pine cones underfoot.

Bookends and begins.

              

Numbers are a rough guide.

We seek not renumeration, or perfect equality, or absolute justice. We desire reciprocity.

I think I've been in shock my whole life.

I find it unfair that other people are allowed to get angry.

I'd really like to punch Richard Dawkins in the face.
Just another playground bully.

 

Way up in the hills of Wales, wind driving mad.

Don't listen to the Dutch, slather your bread with butter.

If we don't grow past things...If we don't get bored with things...
Then what ARE we doing?

Damn, just gave away a lot of good literature. What I couldn't bring myself to part with freely, I burned in my fire.
Few remain now on my shelf-
the overfelt, the over-read, the disintigrated.

As if he knew me from another life, Jack came lopedarting to me over sand.
He was young then, maybe 2(months)  I cared for him into adulthood.
He settled into his home...would take his young sibling cat into his jaws.
Jack would wait for me to come, wasn't excitable but could be.
Jack turned out to be my best friend and knew it and loved it.
Jack was intimidating, but mostly just sat and watched with me.
He'd look at me, say 'did you see that?', I'd say 'yes, glad you did too'
They tried to warn me, caribbean friends, 'take care that dog na'
I didn't listen, couldn't bring myself to believe people 'be any bad'
Jack was stolen from me, most everyone agreed- pit bull training.

I should've gated him in, should've fenced him, should've caged him. I should have...
I walked days and miles through cassie and through eden calling 'jack!' 'Jack!'
Jack was the biggest dog on the island.

see post:  http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/6731/

Onion
Parsnip
Scallion (american), Spring Onion (british)
Curly Parsley and Flat Parsley
Carrot
Potato
Tomato
Celery
Chicken
Water

Salt
Saffron
Crushed Chilis
Black Pepper

Start

Snow and grass
mean different things

 

K  i d s   2 0 1 1

K i d s   2 0 1 0

Draw- the warming of the face and cooling of the ears by fire.

S P A I N  S H O P    2 0 1 0

Human beings will consume one hundred million barrels of oil worldwide, yesterday- and another today. We are oil eating creatures, currently. This is not sustainable- there are options; and to be honest, petroleum doesn't taste that good.

A lot of our energy goes into cooling the chips inside your phone, laptop, desktop. Hear the little fan? how many billions of computer chips are currently requiring cooling? Think heating is an issue?
Computer makers biggest challenge has always been keeping chips cool.
Billions of little fans.

I read that Nasa was working to develop a nuclear reactor the size of a suitcase that would aid in our colonization of the moon and mars.
Ridiculous.
What humankind needs is a safe, clean, nuclear reactor the size of a suitcase to power our cities, our towns, and our homes.
High technology trickles down to us for entertainment, but doesn't seem to trickle down into our homes to keep us warm. We need clean energy and a better way to deal with the waste.
The sea and the land are getting full.
There are technologies out there that could democratize us all (not just westerners), keep us warm and fed (and keep the ipod on) but we're not getting it.
Energy is certainly our biggest pressing concern.

I think men can be ok at washing the white sheets, I mean, that's just a matter of pushing a button and making sure there's only whites in there. But when it comes to hanging those sheets; this is where we run into trouble. Stepping all over them while trying to hang them, fumbling around trying to get them to hang even over a line. It's all very discombobulating.

Was having a conversation yesterday and out of my other ear heard, from the TV, 'if I had to rate this battle-axe on a scale of 1 to 10, I would rate it a solid 8+'.

A 'SOLID' EIGHT PLUS?

To me, eight plus is entirely gray.
If I were older this kind of misuse of understanding, language, would make me spit out my teeth.
In laughter.
In shock. In disbelief.
A solid eight plus is an oxymoron.

For an artist, the stuff one wants to make always weighs heavier than the stuff already made.

Scissors must have been invented for the sole purpose of making the perfect caesar.

So I come across this book, and say to myself, wow, this is beautifully crafted.
And so I take it home and read it. Man!, what a read. Read it.

Six months later I notice that they're selling it at the counter of the Tate museum. Copycats.

The burden of big dreams, the biggest of which is our descent.

Thank goodness for my 'where-with-all'.

To align your spine:
Sit straight up, breathe deep, and drive your head and coccyx in opposite directions.

The problem with Campings prediction is that not enough people believed it. When 7 billion people believe it, it will happen, believe me. My point is; we will our world. Our world is what we will it to be.

It is not What you do, but the Manner in which you do it that is important.
This is why we need to teach manners.

We are currently petroleum feeding creatures. Soon we will achieve, and eat, nuclear fusion. In two hundred years, when we master magnetism, even nuclear will seem dirty and primitive.

It seems that mankind harbors no curiosities about the results were the entire battle to cease.

Because somebody is 'from' MIT or Cambridge doesn't necessarily make them good at their job.

You would be hard pressed to name a creature more shy than a spider.

The sun came out today and affected me poorly.
It illuminated everything and my eyes couldn't rest,
on anything that couldn't do with improvement.

Côte-d'Or 

This is the place. It was told to me in a dream.

The problem with Capitalism is that everyone is so goddamn busy no one is involved.
The problem with Communism is a few keep all the rest busy and demand involvement.
The problem with Socialism is that everyone gets involved and are simply busybodies.
The problem with Facebookism is that one feels obligated to get involved or else die.

There is no point to DIY if there is no U.

Mmmm....peas. Green roe.

Last day of March, first newt.
Dry-walling in the Welsh alpine.
A most thoroughly enjoyed day.

The bee must visit the flower...we assume it's because of the flower.

On hands:

 Our hands can build a pyramid or, without the help of vision, can also discern between two different patterns of lace.

A friend rushes bothered and irascible through my door.
We agree that it is impossible to suss out sensationalism from truth.
He leaves calm, satisfied, promising that he will not go back to the television.

Woe to the man who writes no paychecks.

Vane in flight. I think in March.

On hope:

The majority of extremely successful people are of average intelligence.

customized handle of fire poker

On writing:
you're finished when you get to the bottom of the page

On painting:
you're  finished when the canvas is covered

On sculpture:

you're finished when you get bored

change one of the wants to a wish.

What are we capable of Without the miracle? This is the question.

Our uselessness may be slightly embarrassing, but truly it is our usefulness that gets us into trouble.
In fact, one could argue that our whole existence has been about Denying and Disguising our uselessness.
And that by trying to be so goddamn useful, we've really @##$ed things up.

Our reason exists to deny our uselessness.

 
paris. reflection st. paul.

 

Cows, pigs, chickens, they're ok. But deer! My god!.

On magic:

I do not Believe in miracles. I demand them.

On Thieves:

If people want to steal my shit, I'm completely flattered by that.

The saying: 'Those who can't do, teach'.
I say, 'Those who've done, teach...
whether they like it or not'.

The waves work to destroy the beach. Be like the waves. Those Sisyphus waves.

You can look at it thus:

It's taken a long time to do just that little bit.

or thus:

That little bit only took two hours.

It's entirely perception. One is discouraging.

Focus on the other.

You may be incredibly impressed by somebody else's body of work but that does not diminish the value of your own.  

When I write a poem I mostly just take words out.
When I write prose I mostly just take swear words out.

You're in a small town, 50 or so miles north of the meditteranean sea, your right side is  (s)hot.

There is a bad smell of paint that you think will disappear within days.

It has been said that there are no straight lines in nature. 

Nature is an infinity of straight lines giving the impression of none.

Life is an automatically failed interview.