Tuesday Night Post # 2-5

Good evening to you all,

On this slow and grueling Tuesday evening my body seeks to lay in the soft heap that exists in the bedroom I have created in my head which is filled with foam like material that gives to my weight just enough to make me feel like I have no mass but still have a shape.

-DBL

*     *     *     *     *

Shoreline

Every time I open my jaw I can hear it rip from its joint

You know when you are sitting in the grass

Mind wondering

Hands that yet to go idle

Ripping moist green grass

As you mindlessly listen to your lover’s story

That feeling

That rip

That sound

That’s it

I open and close my mouth wanting to hear the noise

Feel the discomfort

Maybe it’s just to convince myself that

that is what it sounds like

Or it’s just that I still don’t believe that my jaw is doing that awful sound

Well eventually I forget cuz the dull pain at my temple starts to wander in

Maybe it’s the opening and closing of my mouth that has allowed the pain to return

or most likely it’s the five blows to my head in the last month

Hmmm but one wasn’t even to my temple

Ok to be honest three to the temple

One to the cheek

and another flashing one to the right side of the back of my skull

Elementary says the one to the back of my head would be the one to worry about

Strange

That one was the least of my troubles

Some say life can hand you a beating

But when that beating manifests itself to multiple beatings

That’s just a joke high tailored for irony only seen around these parts

Much jokes have meaning so what is the meaning of this one

What does it mean that the struggle did not end with me getting the worst of it

But feeling it

Sunken in the buff at the edge of the water

Sunglasses glaring this magnificent sight back whence it came from

Hat dipped low

Face trying to find refuge from this glorious sun

I sulk

Not in pain

Not in depression

Not in anger

But in existence

I play back the new visuals I have learned

The new stories to lament

This edge of earth I have built a humble home for this

moment of near life …

I’ve lost my train of thought and all I can hear is that

creaking

ripping sound

Sometimes the body is a glitch of useful actions

coagulating to a gunk of festering reactions

I have a perfect seat for this momentous view

The grey clouds that I have been enjoying

part

Orange glow reflected below

as this was above the dawning sky

A perfect audience at an event not so extraordinary

This sand so moist and willing

A seat for my ass

My head speaking in one-line stories

I sink in to this mystery that I think exists and I think I am attempting

To solve

Water in my boots darken the shadow that already is draped on my shoulder

These cold knees ache only in this contest

I am only a net filled with lost shoes and thrown away wigs

As I float away

I remembered that I left

a black pen in the pants that are in the dryer

Tuesday Night Post # 2-4

Vanilla Friends,

Nothing to do on this Tuesday view of this post.  Eating cheese and crackers I serve you one more just to get some laughter.

-DBL

*     *     *     *     *

It resembles the urge to urinate on an object to be neglected. 

Primal reactions that we keep from arising.

Actions that even the most educated blue bloods, especially the blue bloods, will have arise like eruptions of vomit when poisoned with a tainted substance.  Maybe it lies dormant in between our connecting nerve cells with no purpose, but as a reminder that we live in a visceral self.  A self of only a few that can be confused by behaviors that existed in the primordial ooze.  Convoluted structures that we extrapolate from necessary patterns and triggers that have no purpose in biology, but serve to add symmetry and un-kink the fluid thought of reaction. 

A play that replicates nature so as to learn from it. 

In this action origin is lost, distance is made, action becomes reaction of the one long forgotten.  Lost is the thought that started the first.  Finding the end of the ropes would only serve to tighten the delusion of a solid foundation. 

A foundation that is to be uprooted if it is to be discarded. 

So strong is the urge that it transcended with us as we voyage into the digital ether.  A higher self lifted on the shoulders of the previous self.  A dusty note from a memory not forgotten, it was just misplaced.  Let me describe this in accurate terms; a memory not lost, but in our endless procrastination it was left on the back burner. Bubbling over steaming…this is a different kind of smelt fish.  

The verb is the description. 

We understand things as they pertain to us.  To understand the Natural Law, as we see it in our endless wisdom,  we must not enter it, we must let it enter us.  We become the concept.  We have hooves. We must fly. We must melt.   Yes us. A bottomless possibility of new, higher, sounder, fire, lighting of the speed kind.  A lesson in play. 

This is play we are play science is at play.

Tuesday Night Post # 2-3

 Feathers of a similar bird with confusion distilling their evolution,

            The way we meet our fellow neighbors as we approach this Winter Solstices, like much things, has an E at the beginning.  Just as mail has been thrown up into the ether, so have our desires.  We shop for the traits we know and we discard the unknowing things that fear has wrapped its tail around, blinded and bonded, it keeps us from wanting.  Misspelled words are now re-laced and misplaced chromosomes.  In an action exist movement; in a word exist data, these words you read are a reaction of movements made and data gathered. At the end of this E, extends a slightly replaced intent.  A speaker that has no voice, a feeling that has no choice, this is my limb.  Exposed with no remorse a solid unit of grounded sorrow and ignited delight.  Do, as you will to this false anonymity, after all these feelings hide behind this divine brick E-Wall.  

-DBL

*     *     *     *     *    

The Sale

Rash, flash, this arrogant talk

and thrash that thrashes

Where do you wander

When you don’t have the cash

Tell me the moment you had a good time

I’ll tell you the time I spent it

committing the perfect crime

Simple folks find pleasure in sunsets and ocean breezes

On a Saturday night

I open my mind’s eye
with a severed wit

events to convince the other

with no time to seize

Table set and plates are adorned

I hope to find the word

in you that burns

Tell me

In faith I find no comfort

I only do

as I want with no one to help me sort

A simple act of willingness

organizes the blocks

These blocks will fall

Mix arrangement that seeks to spell meaning

False sense of security finds a way

to hold on to illusions and insecurities

With these words I thee wed

Into a conversation left to you maybe unsaid

*     *     *     *     *

Flow

Thumb

Thumb

Click

Expand

Shrink

Click

Page up

Click

Side scroll

Stillness

Flood of passion

Visual emotional response

Smooth tactile eruptions surface

Symmetrical evaluation of form and color

Inventory of social clues & social economic plans

Digestion of subliminal archetypal communication and projection

Summing up                      diffusion of fear

Reevaluation of self                      pheromone data mining

Plateau                     resolution

*     *     *     *    *

A Meeting with an Image Taker

A flash

A singularity

A taken image

These are things I share with you because I do find it disturbing

Not to find morbid analogy in happy occurrences

I’m just turning a human want into something that is joyless

These words rolled out my mouth very well and very nice

My feelings are much more silent and much more bright

I’m the type to shy away from portraits

but on this page I have to swallow the thought

that we all enjoy seeing not touching what employs us

After all my sight is visual

Lights and shapes are what control me

Without the image I have but the feeling to toy with

I hope my thoughts find you well

We all do need someone to

Hold us

See us

Remember the shape we had

during that moment

The movement

this is the thought of historians

If you need a thought to share

By all means let the curious unravel

A line left unsaid

is a seed discarded

And image unseen

is an artist obscene

Never fret for your untimely arrive

Where we meet only depends

on the photorealistic memory

that our thoughts can gather

As I empty out my roll

take the time to cleanse your wounds

the intake of fluids can drown or clean

these gentle walls of Maya

Close the shutter

My form is yours

The Sun Bear (Jig and Router) ep2

previous post: http://dbrp.blogspot.com/2011/07/sun-bear-my-roubo-workbench.html

My Fellow Americans and Terrestrials,

     Yes, last Tuesday I did not post a Tuesday post.  I have no excuse except fatigue.  I got home and just could not resist the warm soft nest in my room.  I owe you twice the words this Tuesday.  Until then I present to you the second stage of a long and over do project.  My Roubo inspired Workbench (The Sun Bear).

 -DBL

Jig and Router

     Originally I had intended to level out the area where the faulty fox joint mortises currently exist using only my able body and bench planes.  Well for sake of speed and a newer experience I decided to finally purchase my first Porter Cable 1 ½ hp router. 

     I had started to level the area using hand tools and left it at a good place for the router to do the rest of the dirty work, but still not be bog down by too much material removal.  Iron bark is dense and splintery and can wear down tools, but can also be machined pretty nicely.  Almost as nicely as its cousin the lemon scented eucalyptus. 

     One of the troubles I am dealing with in this project is the wind (pronounced whined) that exists in the top of the bench.  The pair of legs on the left side are pretty leveled.  The problem is at the other end.   A wind in a board is a twist in which each end of the board is at different axis. 

  

Full view of jig

New unused Porter Cable router

Battens

Anchored at the base of the legs

In retrospect this area should of had more battens

Hand worked unroutered

After the jig was built what was left to resolve was how to routering the middle of the area that was being removed.  Since the base of the router has a radius of 2 5/8 in.  I had to add a movable supporting sled in the middle of the jig.  As I worked closer to the center I readjusted the sled.

Support sled

When I had the majority of the area routed I decided to remove the jig and do the rest of the finesse work using hand tools.  Hopefully I have a good flat reference to finish flattening it with out too much grief.  





*A side note.  The grooves I have left on each side of the flatten area will help my squaring of the top.  To do this I will use my Jointer plane.  Some bench plane blade's do not extend to the edge of the body.  This groove will correct for the area that the edge of the jointer plane can not reach.  I will later fill this area with a contrasting wood or an exotic wood for a nice adhoc detail.

Scrub plane for the rest of the hogging out

After using the scrub plane

Rounded corners

Cleaned up area where the router missed

     That is the stage the Sun Bear remains.  Until the next time be safe and love what you do.  Oh speaking of.  When woodworking, using heavy equipment, power tools, sharp tools or when you just want to do something right listen to your body and mind and the spirit will follow.  When one of them is ready to quit, take a break.  Remember this is fun, not work.  I forget this often and this time I got a gentle reminder.  Just when I was about to quit, just when I felt myself rushing, I told myself "ok time to quit".  My mind did but my body followed through… sliced my hand with my recently 1000 grit sharpened paring chisel.  Luckily I was doing very light work, but the tool had a very keen edge. 

Mental/ Physical Fatigue + Sharp Tools = Two Stitches

            

*Here are some Tales from the NoteBook for your musing.

Tuesday Night Post # 2-2

Americans,

This post comes via on the road. At a few workshops this week. Hope this post finds you content with your exercised right.

-DBL

* * * * *

Waking to take the day
To the same point I did yesterday
In the morning I cleanse my body for the daily bread
That I will earn until I am dead
It's hard to see past the daily squabbles
As the news person speaks their coded babbles

For you my disregard for worldly affairs
Leaves you to judge what's in my daily prayers
Please excuse this informal approach
With great respect I hope there's no reproach

My ways are set to such a degree
I've lost the fear of injury
With honest words I introduce myself
In hopes you return a simple hi in good health
My clothes that cover my body
don't say much on me
I hope I can uncover my honest decree
Yes I am looking for a reason
Just like you I can appreciate the changing seasons
This I say probably will have a larger cost
I stand by my need to expel misery
This I find in honesty

Let me have my respect and space
I am more than just race