Tuesday, November 23, 2010
(Black Hole, from Barking Wall, 2010)
Two things, I finally updated my website with new work, click here, and I have two pieces in Gallery TPW's annual fundraiser, Photorama, this year, which takes place this Friday (November 26) and will be up until December 4th. For more info, click here.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
This sky used to be full of white, I used to be high up there. I've asked myself what happened so many times it's a response to salutation, meaningless. A box of used memories keeps me company, and my door is firmly shut. Today, I tell myself, will fade into the next, and when it happens I won't be so surprised. I started to take care of far too many plants, and I often forget to water them all. I started to think I'd be better off in the desert, but I'm not as tough anymore. Where my arms used to reach to but never came close enough to touch has become smeared and finger-greased all-too-familiar, I know this place too well, I can feel and smell all I want to but I won't. I put my foot down along time ago, my boots are cool now, and I feel a fire roast in my stomach. I don't have indigestion, everything is fine. I'll dive when the ship hits the bottom of the ocean, I'll see the world burn but not by my hands. I'll be the voice that was left silent for so long it has become a thought, a ponder, and a wonder of where and how, who this be, and what can't be said is what is spoken in words as text, and a stranger to all. Kissing goodbyes, these days, kissing high-fives like smacks and kicks to the groin for my big month. I think I forgot how to lie, and all I have to say is that today is your today, with one kick, yelling this is very much sparta. Into a pit, I hope there are spikes to meet you, I hope it hurts. To my enemies I flash pistols, to my friends I pour forty oh-zee's, so girls shake those thangs, make every rotation count, and if you cry you cry, just carry on, singing that song, in full so this chorus sounds heavy and phat, for anything else can sleep like dirt naps, and I don't sleep, because sleep is the cousin of death. (and I say, ain't that right, and I wait for Nas to respond, right-right-right-one-mic-aight.)
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
A good friend of mine asked to place words on here, and I never thought of having features of other writers and thoughtful minds contribute here until his approach. With that said, here is something on the lines of Learning To Love Yourself (More), by Christopher Heller.
grow a beard. definitely. chicks dig it. its masculine not overtly butch. attractive, definitely. wear boots. steel toed. brown, worn leather. dress well. not flashy. keep it simple but high quality. speak softly. with economy. say words as if you have a limited supply. make eye contact. HARD. be first in everything. first to grin. first to touch. but don't let her notice. its all flowing, you're winning. be funny. not laugh at loud funny. make a joke and move on. you've done it before. you've scored a touchdown, now return the ball to the ref and go about your business. Treat her as her. never reveal anything about what you do. go with the flow. most definitely. don't force anything. as in never let your thoughts of 'the future' get in the way of right here, right now. Be instinctual but smart. Never overwhelm. she shouldn't see it coming BUT she shouldn't be knocked back on her heels either. You laugh too. laugh at anything meant to be funny, don't worry, you will see it coming a mile away. Communicate. make faces - expressions that are short-handed for 'had a bad day' - 'we need milk' - that last one might be tough. make negatives into cute. go out with the boys and never say a bad word about her. the will want to date her. she becomes more desirable, but she is all yours. make her know that.
-Christopher Heller, November 7th, 2010