as fair as a maiden can be
tall as redwood tree.
her smile pierces through veils
of entangled hearts
among the ever ascending
agents of change
she speaks in silent whispers
“re-invest child—in this”
and i am engulfed,
in the grace of her loving kiss,
the tingeling tantric sensation leaves heart full
and mind blank
a canvas stretched tight
in circular column above crown
awaiting the power of my potential,
always revealing the structure
of mothers law
the perfect maze of cellular memory
and his story,
to create this modern incarcerating irony
pull me from his hatred
let me rest on your valley floor
unlock the chambers to your sacred space
whisper soul service to activate enchantress,
allow I to remeber.
blood red tears
the narrow path to tower
body wracked with fatigue
give me strength fair maiden
and through your love
give me time out of time
allow your coursing molten veins
to fuse with my own
implant I with feather light perfection
up and out of cave mouth
wings steady pulse
wind carresses dew filled lashes
tears dance with rain drops
sun shower laughter
through ever expanding halls of remebrance
creating chords of thundering storm clouds
a reverent furry
take our bodies great mother
make us the fuel for your fire of
place our precisley crafted vessels
into your sacred spiders web
chant through our vibrating throats
incantations that our hearts have always known
beam lighting bolts from our crowns
to fathers door
imprinting the tale of your union
on the seed of each
let us reveal through
the secrets of childs heart.
give us this gift fair maiden
and we will be your gifts.
I’ll transcribe the 15 foot poem at some point in the future
where’s this guy going? look at that load. Is he going to the dump?
check out this film!!
(even if you can’t make it to the showing here in Chico)
BASQUIAT (1996, U.S.A.)
106 min. DVD. Directed by Julian Schnabel. Hosted by Amy Bloch, Department of Art and Art History and Humanities Center Board. University Film Series 7:30pm, Little Theatre (Ayres 106)
$3 suggested donation
When brilliant American painter Jean-Michel Basquiat died of an overdose at the age of 27 in 1988, fellow artist Julian Schnabel marked the moment by scrawling, “JMB August 12th” on a 16-foot tarpaulin. Nearly ten years in the making, Schnabel’s Basquiat is a film of exhilarating verve, which casts an eclectic group of celebrity names into the New York arts firmament in a portrayal of Basquiat’s brief life. Cast: Jeffrey Wright, Christopher Walken, Dennis Hopper, David Bowie, Gary Oldman, Courtney Love, Tatum O’Neal, Willem Dafoe, Claire Forlani
my friend zach has been helping me out with music theory THANK GOD!! he’s a really great teacher and person, this stuff is SO hard – especially when you miss the second week- this was the first burningman that i attempted to do homework. it worked out pretty well – although i’m still fairly lost in class. ah well. it’s fun to learn music.
here are a few burning man pics
oh and my gaurdian owl altar at the temple
the raddest dust storm i’ve ever been in (ask me about it)
view from inside the trilobyte
a big ass cube i got to paint on-mine is all the way on the left
University Film Series
Little Theatre (Ayres 106)
$3 donation suggested
Caravaggio (1986, U.K.)
93 min. 16mm. Directed by Derek Jarman. Hosted by Amy Bloch, Department of Art and Art History.
As this film reveals the 17th-century painter’s complex life—his brilliant, nearly blasphemous paintings and flirtations with the underworld—it is also a complex and lucid treatment of Jarman’s major concerns: violence, history, homosexuality, and the relationship between film and painting. “Brooding, sensual…a bold, quirky Caravaggio in pagan and poetic glory.”—Newsweek
so I’m kinda slacking on my blog.
at least there’s something ?!
I saw a wounded dragonfly get eaten by a bluejay yesterday
i’ve been swimming in the creek a lot
learned some new firedancing moves
am enamoured by the interconnectedness of this never ending vessel called L.I.F.E.
I’ve been working on my trilobite structure (images below) it’s not quite done yet, still working on the paint job and front roof/antanae. I just got a new camera cause i lost my old one. (weird) I’ll take photos of the burningman set up too. cause i’ll have to re-build it on the playa.
we’re having a phat burningman gathering this friday @ the crux
here’s a photo of me in front of the art temple. more soon.
This is the dopest!
My brother NoMe busted it quite a while ago, he’s part of the gestalt collective in S.F. They let me paint with em sometimes. So Dope, check out some of the pics.
also Seamonster and I will be busting out some CRAZY performance-promised not to be normal, and friends will be playing music @ the crux this weekend.
Greetings Amazing ones. I was blessed with the opportunity to read this poem with the Living Alliance of Love @ a gathering featuring a super potent prayer-formance by the Godess Alchemy Project and a set by the headlining band Ka’nal. Then Sunday I got to spend the whole day with my Sister, Brother in Law and Beautiful Niece Nyomi, we went to the american river and she floated around in a crazy psychadelic chicken. I’ll try and get some pictures of all of the above.
here’s the poem. bless. dragonboy.
REJOICE IN THIS GIFT TO TRANSMIT
in this voice
rejoice in this gift to transmit
rejoice and know
that my word is sacred
for, were I to stumble but one split second
each life inside of each life inside of each life
would know it
each layer upon transdimensinal layer would echo the affects of mal intention
shot back through time
to the foulness of the venomous dialect I a had so hastily chosen.
and once known, one must give thanks
for this sentient feedback mechanism
the cosmic tuner for the tone of each dreamer
remains whole heartedly
souly aligned with the rise and fall of her tides
connecting the bridge
to choose the words
whose true meaning lay hid
until the heart is
wide open enough to ingest the
akashic tale of internal remembering
an ever expanding luminous volume of the
sacred readers digest
a loving memory on her eternal quest
a book with no binding
we scribble the words that always find
the path that winds it’s way to the sacred heart
feels like a good place to start
never questioning the abundance
that comes when all intentions
are placed on the clear white light
of each and every dreamers true face.
line after ascending line
a staircase into our ineffable nature
we scribe the truth as we see it,
living the perfection of each instant,
we look deep inside for true intent
until all other roads are closed
and all that remains is a stream
full of floating rocks
so we hop
from one bobbing
boulder to the next
checking the depth
to make sure that if we fall, we don’t drown
we’re so far along
we plunge, willingly
headfirst into our souls birth
and what has been created
leaves us breathless for an instant.
into the mirror of the cosmic night
and are abosorbed by the black ink
from which the eyeballs of each dreamer
are given light.
And the world becomes our canvas
our note book,
a living journal
we manifest through this light and dark.
we re-open sky caves through the words of a timeless age
the tongues spoken, only when HIS-Story is broken
and these words become the support beams for the bridge to she and he.
from the molten core to skycaves open door, we convene
along paths of our own creation
drawing the lines of true loves sensation
this sacred text is our vision
deep inside the very essence of each word
lay our intention-
these pages must be published only through
the light centers of each internal press
in order to grasp the work of each initiates true test.
one cannot fail to recognize the
the searing heat from the gaze of the fathers eyes,
Yet equally and whole hearteldy, only through mothers love
can we internalize,
the sacredness of each instant.
rejoice in this gift
that which is internally hid
deep in the chambers of all knowing
each holds in their heart centers the seeds,
to begin lifes hidden prophecies
written on these re-evolutionary records
are the souls adventures
planted deep within
the dark richness of her soil
a tale is told,
and is only as tall as the teller
and she who would venture from the
internal path would find in it’s place
a tale that were not worth knowing.
insistent though are the mothers whispers
and how telling is the wisdom
when channeled through thine divine vision.
a site seers paradise, where scribe and light unite,
where all scenes create the sacred space of a billion dreamers dreams
who each remember
their original face
a vistapoint for the immaculate re-conception of the vast expanse
breathing life into the lines that write the thought forms that
expand beyond space and time
with internal writing devices the
geometric patterns of illuminating grace
kaleidescoping into and from the power centers of each being
we weild new swords
that write in our own blood,
the tale how WE see it.
rejoice in this gift to transmit
the lines of light that draw
you are yours to create with
and become the giver
as you are the gift.
Your soul lights the fires that shed the tainted stains of self inflicted confines,
in Soul gazes you remain fixed on the chapters that matter most,
beyond the socially prescribed trailers of robotic stimuli,
the passion that’s only given rise
from her molten core,
to dance with this light
is to hold the key to eternities door.
and you will find me
i speak in whispers to your hearts day dreaming stations,
i crawl through the chambers of sacred space that open to the vast expanse,
the eye in each cloud
that cries the tears that make
the sorrow of her evolution perfectly clear.
our time exists
beyond the confines of the humanly inflicted dictation
our movements align with her push and pull,
the ebb and flow of universal law,
that, which, we should have learned in school
where it not our task
we’d never have known
but as it is
the coop we’ve flown
to soar on condors wings
to soul gaze so deeply into the others eyes it stings
but from this path there is no abandon,
we will see and manifest the power we’ve been given
in each instant
falling happily back into the sky from where we came
seeping like water,
we silently conquer and re-create the cleansing pool that is the universal mind.
Gods time is upon us
each dreamer to the perfection which only exists
in the nucleus of each millisecond
placing one pristine princess slippered foot in front of the other,
ever so softly, each silently whispering voice,
drawing such subtle power
we see the lies of HIS-tory devoured.
and in her ravine
connecting nature’s tantric grid
we shape shift from the elementals
in whom we’ve hid
a loving memory
on her eternal quest.
My good good friend comsically aligned and activated soul brother dave brown has created a master piece to go in the chapel of sacred mirrors. It’ll go on the outside of an elevator? I’ll have to check it out in person someday, i’ve never been to the COSM but one day i think I will.
It is so amazing how spirit is aligning our lives and revealing the unseen agenda. What am I talking about? Well this building where dave brown now has his welding studio is one of my favorite buildings in chico-Not sure why-It was also my x-wife/partner’s favorite building. the first time we hung out we realized this fact by comparing our photo/portfolio albums and finding that each of us had taken pictures of this building. And i’ve talked to other people about it—there’s something special there—it’s a power place without a doubt. Give thanks for the many blessed angels and entities that help and inspire us on this journey.