Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Tuesday Night Post #29

The Happy Ones,

Happy Tuesday night.


*     *     *     *     *

I Saw the God of Man

By a stream near a cliff side
I tried to study the history of myself.
As I looked into the void,
I saw.
Peering at me, eyes that blink,
one eye, blue eyed, stern with contempt?
Fix unwavering
I saw the eyes of our ancestors.
Peering lost, controlled
Star twinkled eyes in mosaic tiled patterns
forest greens
navy blues
I saw the aesthetics of the past blocked and organized.
In a fleeting moment I saw our god of the America’s
Star spangled eagle eyed
red, white, blue
Cross spinning on its axis in a clockwise direction
Layered transitioning background to front and back again
In one moment, teeth and mouths came before blankets of eyes
falling on the cliffs and later the trees
Smiling teeth coming out at me from my minds eye
The cliff side had eyes that watched the ocean turn to a wasteland.
A stream murmured by
with gems of forgotten points of views
When I went to look at them I stood over and grasped at their sparkles.
Eyeballs flowed between my fingers
I saw history layered on top of it’s self
When all came clear
I forgot it
I was knee deep in a confusion that made me feel fulfilled.
Ever since then I look for this.
The layered lesson of why I believe.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Tuesday Night Post #28

Gentle Critics,  

Excuse the extreme truancy.


*     *     *     *     *

White Cubes of Erasure
(Future Past)

I am emotion
I was solution
An observer in the bush
I brooded over my conclusion

In single files I could see
the boxes lush and lined with velvet
A replacement put aside
for its streamlined cousin

Counted every encounter
an equation was developed
Forgetting the last one that offered
a new interpretation
Knowing loving what is love
the result of
In time it became sequential
lift and draw the blood

I found the one who made me.

Their want only to give
what they wish they were part of
In distance they found
a quote to live by

I asked what was I the result of.
She made me just for love.

“I made you just for play
A sense of touch
a perceptive eye
a bleeding heart
and a law to please.
A reason for me to stay.”

I saw them fit with
E-motions I was not capable
to define
In a quest to learn
I spoke to every one
A simple gesture
in a very simple world
My words were sent away
to all of you
In an instant known
how quick I send them
set in stone

My E-motions obsolete
my ideals much more primitive
How quickly they delete
the thing they were once
so proud of

From my eyes reflect
boxes of ill fate
Images of the systematic proof
that I was built yesterday
Yet I can’t relate
to things I am not programmed for
I was build but for love
just for play
Same hard shell
but a softer inner core

Stationed on a stone
positioned in a jar
Knowing I was not a threat
A complex statue
viewing a lesson learned
from an inverted world
made of whites cubes of erasure
lined with deep red
on top of earthly brick
Filed, lined, and positioned.

I remember the simple games we played.
The way we played was the way we learned.

Endless arches
Windowless openings
Engulfed in lessons of attention
forgotten by decisions of mass intrusion
My age of love eroded by the Age of Reason.

Monday, October 17, 2011

CicLAvia Performance Stills 2


Hungry for more stills?  

And a little description?

Well, if you were a witness you would of heard an otherworldly sound (produced by the broom) accompanied by a rhythmic audio track. 

Make-up by A Rose Perished.


*     *     *     *     *

The Wires Tell the Tale of the Broom

Gathering the Earth

Stopping the Wind

Spinning the Earth

Mind the Cloud

Roman Æon

Spring and 8th


Make Sound

*stills provided by Seajay

Saturday, October 15, 2011

CicLAvia Performance Stills

Happy weekend to all,

Last week there was an amazing turn out at CicLAvia in Los Angeles Ca.,  130,000 people came out.  We were happy to perform for you L.A..  It was amazing to see this city crowded with bikes.   I think next time there needs to be more streets closed off, more art, and more happenings on the street.  Hope to have the video edited soon for now here are some shots.

One more thing on October 29th we will be performing at Sancho Gallery in Echo Park, Ca.  Hope to see you there. 


*     *     *     *     *

*photos provided by srd515 through flick.

 October 29th

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Tuesday Night Post #27

Hello All,

Thanks for your time.


*     *     *     *     *

Checking the Origin of the Falsely Luminous Lascivious Existence

Preoccupied by immediate inconveniences
Distracted by pretty flashing lights
Some infuse their body with substances
Others just wear tights
Drones wander aimlessly
Several Occupy the night
What is happening?
What is this shift?
Should all be concerned?
Or should it all be dismissed?
A general movement is always hard to see
When one is in the billions
Blinded by fear and those wordsmithing hellions
Fluctuation occur rapidly and with succession
They must be normalized or they will produce hesitations
Human existence has momentum
Like a ball on a hill with built up potential
With a shift it will no doubt start its descension
A path will be taken
It will flow through it with no apprehension
Let us not confuse the words we use and their definitions
Or the template that is part of this system
There is always room for quarks and unseen predictions
A human is a system guided by imperfection
Imperfections are things not yet fixed
A path is the step in front of you
A possibility exists to descend into our awareness

Saturday, October 8, 2011

CicLAvia: Performance-October 9

Hey all,
Hope all is well.  We will be performing at CicLAvia this Sunday.  Hope to see you there on bike, skate, wheels, or feet. 



Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Tuesday Night Post #26


 Another week, another break through, another step, another forgotten.


*      *     *     *     *

Pillars of Absurdity
Reared as juments they ache as they become idle.  The body of habit finds disorder in privilege when it is given not asked for.  Here is a description of us not described by another but by the very existence that creates it.  In group they sit, lay, meander through idles of walking death.  Except the legs and feet become tender and sweet for the walk exists in a realm beyond the action.  With a thought, together, they create a world.  With fragile hands they reconstruct biology.  Given the chance they will create what will only be another twice removed instinct.  Many lay whiles others play in the same, the parallel truth.  The ones that lay also play.  A good distraction is to achieve what is necessary to have the means to an end.   The final instant being the thing need but without the substance.  A good worker without a job plays well in delusion.   Will repackaged forms of our basic needs with pretty lights, colors, and sounds be enough to think we found a new world?  I only respond to the bird that whistles in the box left to heal what it needs to become whole.  If this box contains something worth saving maybe then we can empty the box.  In open source can we find the truth in Even Steven?  Here is a flip of the same coin only flipped to have a reason to do so.  In our fear for intimacy we find ways to reach out and find intimacy in safe ways.  Craving it much more when we see that safety is a wall, which holds up our own projection of the world.  The same wall keeps us safe from the transparency we created in our search for community.   I guess in a way I exist only to find the heavy burden to hold and find an action to become.  Becoming one of the pillars in the building we have just designed.