V, D, D, P, E, G, J, J, N, K, W...Grimm Brothers, N, L, S, G and D.
I disagree..man strives to be better than the Reality

We stumble headlong after a future that won't wait up.

Live your life in a way that you're never mistaken for somebody else.

Never, ever, threaten violence. If need arises you use it.

Don't  leave something behind that does more harm than good.

And maybe I like you not because you understand me but because you forgive me.

I lost the genius award when I was young because my question was posed at least 60 seconds after hers.

 On power:

The Russians feel shortchanged and want to push their weight around the States

Genius is purpose through accident.

On a blanket:

If I'm cold I tend to grab the first thing at hand's grasp or arm's reach
which oftentimes makes me look like a fool

And for Mr. Mandela:

I spent twelve hours on each of five days
which I'm now thinking
may be equal in worth to your ten thousand
on account of your story

On kids:

Wow, the fridge really takes a beating.

To Parents:

You will only think of the answer afterwards
It's important to have an answer meantime

On Birds and Cats:

The violence among Kruger lions on my tv,
exactly amongst Blue-tits in my garden.

On narcissism:

I once wrote that there's never been an artist worth salt that hasn't admired themselves at least from the elbow down.

Francis Bacon may have been a dirty, bi-sexual, untidy, drink loving sex crazed lunatic that the public and publicity pushers tried to reveal in his beat-up, bloated face, but why do you think he always had his sleeves rolled up? They ever take a good look at those forearms and hands?

And Picasso, history has slathered over the intensity of his stare; his big black, round, powerful eyes; but have they ever payed attention to how that guy held his paintbrushes? The power and dexterity was in his forearms. You ever see photo's of the man in sleeves (while working)?

As for me, I was terribly critical of myself from the elbow down when young. But I've grown into them.
They're my lifelong companions, these forearms; as well as a history book. They are the things that have been in my field of vision more than anything else in my life, and I'm astounded by their beauty everyday.

Woe to the man who holds in them anything destructive, woe to the man whose forearms are scented only by the handling of fiat, woe to the man who can't admire his own hands with wonder and satisfaction.

'how close I came by eye',  Grille retaining wall construction, setting of 5' slate slab hoofed over 1.2 miles from a long abandoned mountain farmstead.  Lion cottage  06/2013.

On Maths:

Not unlike any other pursuit; banking, legalizing, social careing, rubbish collecting, particle smashing, athleticizing, ad infinitum...an artist can only make good art by devoting at least 80% of their energies to it.
Doing it or contemplating it; it must be the thing that between eating, sleeping, scheduling, lending an ear, being accountable, sharing, ad infinitum...one thinks about most.

This two thirds and a bit ratio also applies to say...grilling steak and onions...the onions (cooked whole, within their skin) will take roughly 3 times as long as the steak.

A little over half may be the golden ratio (1.618...)
but two thirds and a bit is the proper operating ratio.

On habits, people and possessions:

Leaving things is more difficult than a lot of other human experience
On people, you don't have to
On habits, you can if you want to
On possessions...burning them is excellent fun

On appliances:

When I was young the microwave was maligned;
Technology from mars! My god, can't be trusted.
The television is benign, the refrigerator malignant.

On refrigeration:

I cook what I'll eat tomorrow(s). I eat and enjoy what I did yesterday(s).
This is not on purpose, just seems to have become....
Without a fridge I'd eat raw, recently living things and though I don't approve of it as fad,
I understand the Asian penchant for dancing octopus, prancing squid

To Youth:

Do it while young. Don't expect that you'll do it one day
Taking commands from fools is much easier old
Do not waste your young self on insulating for the future

On work:    (unfinished)

It's weird, when I work;  it used to be that I had to continually sweep up my work area as I was disturbed by bits sticking to the bottom of my boots. My footing was important.
Now, even when I'm building hard and dirty like a stone wall, I feel the need to periodically wash my hands.
I don't think that an artist feels the impulse to necessarily control the work, but I've come to believe that most
feel a deep desire to control the environment in which the work is created.
Maybe that's why many of them dress oddly. Work well only in one location, and tend to cocoon.

On economics:

People justify what they can't afford by what they save. As go individuals so go nations.

On Faith:

I was in England for two days and on the third was invited to go north by an acquaintance of friends so i said ok and threw my wood box luggage into the back of his smart car. He drove like a maniac, smoked twenty joints in the first hour and kept jamming these things he called 'poppers' up his nose. It was raining hard and at ninety miles an hour he tried to pass a rig and the spray pushed our smart car off the motorway, into the 'central reservation' as he called it later. I remember my heart not skipping a beat.
In Newcastle upon Tyne he'd tell me to keep my mouth shut before entering one of the many 'rough' pubs he took me to; he was invariably cast out, I got on fine.
He was a lunatic, but for some reason I never questioned my decision to go with this stranger on this journey.
He delivered me very early on a January morning into the ruins of Lindisfarne.
He knew the tides.
I walked around Holy Island alone under a three quarter moon (he didn't bother to get out of the car) on that
cold morning, and admit to not being able to resist driving my knees into the grass of that ancient nave. Extraordinary.

Drive by:

Took a few hundred miles to chuckle and not stop when badges, middle road displayed.

It took a few hundred miles more to adjust to threatening arms and cordially wave.

To the DIYer-  Carpentry:

Wood lives on way after cutting it down
even 'kiln dried' wood reflects, deflects;
cellular structures can't be depended upon
fastening is most important, after logic.
screws are ok, particularly the new ones
nails generally are better, glue is the best
A lot of the work you do will not be seen
though the aging response of it will
it is imperative that this invisible work
be done strong, thoroughly, and logical.
When your hands get dry rub your head
plants (even dead) love human grease best
You can not bang construction together
it's piece by piece, go slow and look (stare)
by far your sense of touch is required most
You can be rough, you're will is the builder
Use fewer tools; your fingertips, fingernails
and your palms will do in nearly all finishing.

On bonds:

What is important is not that all things are connected (interconnectedness?) for two things can be locked in combat no?
Is it not the type of bonds that hold things together of more importance and of more worth?

On addiction:

I would rather deal with demons while living than meet them unexpectedly upon dying.
There's no need for surprises.

- written in response to learning of a university pal's lifelong addiction/battle/love affair with cocaine.

On man:

The only thing a man needs in his life is a woman strong enough to say 'No'.
Otherwise he'd steal, maraud and conquer.
I surmise that Genghis, Alexander and dare I mention him...Hitler
did what they did because they were bereft of a good woman.
The domain of No is the land of women.

On excellent wordplay:

It's easy to be a Freud
All you have to do is ask.

my dream of april 11 sprung me from the bed
it was early and was only able to race down for a few notes; these aren't them-

we were invited to a lady's art opening, all was good and happy and wholesome
seems she was a friend of my mother's, who was there-
mom looked beautiful, very young in the face, with a band holding back her hair
i told her so and kissed her on the cheek
you and i looked around and liked the exhibit, we were actually pleasantly impressed
towards the back were less artistic things, more...arts and crafts
and there was glitter spread around the floor,
that turned into footprints
of gold glitter
led to an area with a lot of small things and a pricelist
which was made from construction paper, black, with gold and silver writing
like from one of those kids pens
i found a couple of christmas tree ornaments, thought they were cool
said..."we should buy one of these for my mom"
they were twenty five quid each and you said we should buy both
we argued over that as i thought just one would do
examining it while contemplating it i turned it over
the engraving of the artists name was on the underside:
'cristina thirsten'
then looked at you and said 'christmas cows!' and woke in a start, like a bomb
i was bounced out of bed
ran downstairs and wrote:

'cristina thirsten, x-mas cows'...underlined.

had coffee...went back to bed. have found no info about either on the www
not that i expected it.

On our similarity to flowers:

I am a happy spring
Hard like daffodil

Damn, the power of M. Nature!
Tackling the garden for the first time this spring she's adjusted everything...moved shit around!

Contemplate the things you want to do; things you have to do can wait.

On my burial:

Please do not put me under the ground or in a box.
Preferably- burn me outside, or, at the VERY least, lay me down on the ground;
pile rocks upon my stretched out body and cross my arms peacefully upon my chest.

Roman Burial Site, Cregannon, Wales. 2013.

I was dismayed while young when taught that the average human can only really focus for a few minutes...wait...

Stubborn is not Strength.

Art is a niqab; a book is revealing.

ie:

One can share a piece, a sculpture, a drawing, a painting, etc. but they're easy to hide behind.
There exists a huge communication gap. Art is a comfy wooly protective shroud.
A book is bare. Baring bones. You'll see me; I don't necessarily want you to...but here I am, bare.
In this way words are more difficult than images.
Compared to objects words are itchy fleece floorfallen.

Great Britain - how can so much rain fall on such an intellectual desert?
The rain that falls does nothing to green this intellectual drought.

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.