what a feeling of rushing water, fast a powerful, near a Lafarge cement factory. tension in the arms and poping up to stand on the board. weaving in and out, creating a wake and a lax rope. grateful for Ian's invitation, what a good cousin brother. drinking boones, superfast and pumping myself up for another round. happy for a life jacket. laughing when the calgary fire department came to let us listen to his shortwave, talking about us having a unauthorized good time. .dam people calling in to report our fun to the authorities. his suggestion of wearing life jackets was heeded except for dan, the leader of the pack, double-riding with Jaz. wathcing the dogs chew at all the river moss that was being presented to them as food., how they tried to make a fire witht he cherry of a fag.
environment-location: calgary is big and dry hot:
the roads are stacked three wide and the mega malls thick as texas. the men walk with a swagger and stapede seems like the western fair on steroids with a cowboy hat. today i went down to a creek type pond, built for the children of the suburbs. the place was vivid, teeming with blue and organge draygon and damsel flies. natures inspiration of the helicopter. i painted my legs with water colours. then i went to yoga class and had a steam. never before have i wanted a car (to live in) so badly. i posted onthe interenet $500 for a operational vechicle, personally guranteed for the next month. only a dude with a truck has gotten in contact. i am headed to edminton next , perhaps mid week, and then the world.
malika yangu. nasikia kiswahili leo. the teksi bwana was clearly talking to his mistress. in english he said " that isn't about me it's about us" ohyo. nasema habari yo yote!
i got a great brainstorm for the damsel flyes at you wedding in the forest. we'll need to go on a hunt for old fashions clothes pins adn irredescent wings. oh what fun will be.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
compoundword cookieconsciousness
" good morngin starshine, the earth says hello
you twinkle above us, we twinkle below"
"have you ever loved enought to destroy your love"
environment: gassey wiht soft sleeping breath/
location: valley view park place developement in cow town
directly across from a weedwacked lawn and a a pin grove of two.
are 4 model houses. on display wiht different siding
1.eclispse, with the snappi-set name and most plastic venners
2.something rather -shire with cobbble likte faux finish
etc etc great marketing thanksfully not rememebered
where i appeased my most shaddowed of self. deciet.vainity and excess. dishonety flips the page as i embrace my shortcomings allowing there space to be.better&now
freewillastrology.com
or here...
Among the Yanyuwa Aboriginal people who live along the coast of Australia's Northern Territory, the word for "fat" is nalu-ngiliny. It doesn't merely refer to the greasy stuff that grows naturally under the skin of animal bodies. It's also a metaphysical term for vitality. Anything that's rich in nalu-ngiliny is healthy. A certain landscape may be considered fat, for instance, which means that it's fertile and sacred. When acacia flowers bloom each year, it's a sign that sea turtles and the marine mammals known as dugongs, favorite foods of the Yanyuwa, are "fat" and ready to be hunted. Your assignment in the coming week is to identify the things in your life that are nalu-ngiliny, and to give them the honor, gratitude, and nurturing they deserve.
one thing that sticks me as odd is my intense ability to critize in a regal and self important manner. just today i uttered the words "i think i know more about karma than you" how selfish indulgent and haugthy of me. because i dont have a gold seal with my name misspelt, perhaps the becasue i have read more books than you pertaining to eastern philiosphy but you have read way more books on the oratation of human behaivor modifications. maybe i could use some, and i embrace my addictionself anaalsyisis and acceptimptrove. appreciate my time spent and lesson gleaned.
the fat i am harvesting today is a carnal and diestructive. the excessive weeds i pulled from the flower bed, that had roots so deep it took all my might, heaving, using my legs towardsbliss the moon to eject. it had grown taller that 4 out of five original immediatemembers. thats how excess rolls i suppose. growing out of control until all is lost and winter renews. it is this angreattachment of the death that propells us to be reborn, lost in the cycle.
as i type, chewing my thumb nail, twisting my hair. look over at my reflection in the mirror and pinch at my arm fat displaying the musculature. looking more athletic and powerful by the moment. merely a matter of timeffort and dreams realized.
inspiration plus persperation = asperation
first i'll take this magic moment to honor & nurture .to eat greasy delite to fill in the gaps. as i pluck at the feathers of my fears i label them lightly, let let them into the wind. still exsisting but not attached. my appreciation extends to the thief, and the victim and the product. and the waste. the model homes with there empty advertnames. to the tar ponds sceen from space and the jobs of the families who make them. to coffee and crap and letting things be different and whole. the diverse cultural observation in the A&W, the rootbeer in a icyed mug, the $15 to pay my karmic debt to capital. to the electronica environmenta, to the wordsongs pryied into my exsistance, filling the most unusual corners; to my lovely friend some of whom i left behind, some of whom i chase, some of who i dont yet know consciously, everything up until this point and everything beyond, to now
the today i'll be vernonique, it is a tribute.
to a comrade that lent me her life in such a joyus way.
back on the road again i miss my british buddy.
a pickle in your ear
sincerelysmf
you twinkle above us, we twinkle below"
"have you ever loved enought to destroy your love"
environment: gassey wiht soft sleeping breath/
location: valley view park place developement in cow town
directly across from a weedwacked lawn and a a pin grove of two.
are 4 model houses. on display wiht different siding
1.eclispse, with the snappi-set name and most plastic venners
2.something rather -shire with cobbble likte faux finish
etc etc great marketing thanksfully not rememebered
where i appeased my most shaddowed of self. deciet.vainity and excess. dishonety flips the page as i embrace my shortcomings allowing there space to be.better&now
freewillastrology.com
or here...
Among the Yanyuwa Aboriginal people who live along the coast of Australia's Northern Territory, the word for "fat" is nalu-ngiliny. It doesn't merely refer to the greasy stuff that grows naturally under the skin of animal bodies. It's also a metaphysical term for vitality. Anything that's rich in nalu-ngiliny is healthy. A certain landscape may be considered fat, for instance, which means that it's fertile and sacred. When acacia flowers bloom each year, it's a sign that sea turtles and the marine mammals known as dugongs, favorite foods of the Yanyuwa, are "fat" and ready to be hunted. Your assignment in the coming week is to identify the things in your life that are nalu-ngiliny, and to give them the honor, gratitude, and nurturing they deserve.
one thing that sticks me as odd is my intense ability to critize in a regal and self important manner. just today i uttered the words "i think i know more about karma than you" how selfish indulgent and haugthy of me. because i dont have a gold seal with my name misspelt, perhaps the becasue i have read more books than you pertaining to eastern philiosphy but you have read way more books on the oratation of human behaivor modifications. maybe i could use some, and i embrace my addictionself anaalsyisis and acceptimptrove. appreciate my time spent and lesson gleaned.
the fat i am harvesting today is a carnal and diestructive. the excessive weeds i pulled from the flower bed, that had roots so deep it took all my might, heaving, using my legs towardsbliss the moon to eject. it had grown taller that 4 out of five original immediatemembers. thats how excess rolls i suppose. growing out of control until all is lost and winter renews. it is this angreattachment of the death that propells us to be reborn, lost in the cycle.
as i type, chewing my thumb nail, twisting my hair. look over at my reflection in the mirror and pinch at my arm fat displaying the musculature. looking more athletic and powerful by the moment. merely a matter of timeffort and dreams realized.
inspiration plus persperation = asperation
first i'll take this magic moment to honor & nurture .to eat greasy delite to fill in the gaps. as i pluck at the feathers of my fears i label them lightly, let let them into the wind. still exsisting but not attached. my appreciation extends to the thief, and the victim and the product. and the waste. the model homes with there empty advertnames. to the tar ponds sceen from space and the jobs of the families who make them. to coffee and crap and letting things be different and whole. the diverse cultural observation in the A&W, the rootbeer in a icyed mug, the $15 to pay my karmic debt to capital. to the electronica environmenta, to the wordsongs pryied into my exsistance, filling the most unusual corners; to my lovely friend some of whom i left behind, some of whom i chase, some of who i dont yet know consciously, everything up until this point and everything beyond, to now
the today i'll be vernonique, it is a tribute.
to a comrade that lent me her life in such a joyus way.
back on the road again i miss my british buddy.
a pickle in your ear
sincerelysmf
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
letting myself love on the run
location: finch and vic park
environment: lovely esp & bus bliss with eggs
ophh. the sweet shisper of wordson the subway. untill the guilt and habit forming acctivity set in
it is in my seldomly modest opinon i would like to announce that i believe emotions are signals, flags that send us messages about what are core selves are. certainly not things to be supressed or controled with logic. we all can control our actions with our thoughts but emotions come from a wiser place than are minds, somewhere between our heart and soul, a home for wisdom, a room called instinct. they are oftern without reason or design, lack structural integrity and engineering, but they work non-the-less ( did you know that acording to science a bumblebee can't fly, but i have witness the flowers polinated, and tasted the honey) i am glad you are feeling better because i understand that to be better than bad, but emotional, is a place of learning, more profound than a text book. run or hide ( or banish)from them if you will but i 'll bet that no matter if you travel at the speed of light they can catch you.
are my signals a mere physical response to stimuli? is it a was of telling me to stay still despite my troublesome horoscope? is the fog and deja vu a way to have heaven in the now now? do i feel free and powerful? what is my reason d'etre du jour?
the pythagorus parable in paraphrase by smf
it is rare in life that we are one thing, height weight, orientation, attitude, etc for our entire lives. i am a creature of chance and marvel in my flexible nature. my strenghts our not simply limited to one venure and can be applied in any cercumstance. our way changes as we grow.sometimes we play the role of merchant, buzing ourselves with commerce, choice and culture. other times still we take up the centre stage, and boldly shine in the spotlight as our dynamic artist self. and sometimes we are the audience philosopher, watching the fair play it's self out, appreciating the glory and gruesque grandure and wondering why. can we ever know? can we stay in one phase of ourselves for concistancies sake? can't we just spin the wheel and play the game?
environment: lovely esp & bus bliss with eggs
ophh. the sweet shisper of wordson the subway. untill the guilt and habit forming acctivity set in
it is in my seldomly modest opinon i would like to announce that i believe emotions are signals, flags that send us messages about what are core selves are. certainly not things to be supressed or controled with logic. we all can control our actions with our thoughts but emotions come from a wiser place than are minds, somewhere between our heart and soul, a home for wisdom, a room called instinct. they are oftern without reason or design, lack structural integrity and engineering, but they work non-the-less ( did you know that acording to science a bumblebee can't fly, but i have witness the flowers polinated, and tasted the honey) i am glad you are feeling better because i understand that to be better than bad, but emotional, is a place of learning, more profound than a text book. run or hide ( or banish)from them if you will but i 'll bet that no matter if you travel at the speed of light they can catch you.
are my signals a mere physical response to stimuli? is it a was of telling me to stay still despite my troublesome horoscope? is the fog and deja vu a way to have heaven in the now now? do i feel free and powerful? what is my reason d'etre du jour?
the pythagorus parable in paraphrase by smf
it is rare in life that we are one thing, height weight, orientation, attitude, etc for our entire lives. i am a creature of chance and marvel in my flexible nature. my strenghts our not simply limited to one venure and can be applied in any cercumstance. our way changes as we grow.sometimes we play the role of merchant, buzing ourselves with commerce, choice and culture. other times still we take up the centre stage, and boldly shine in the spotlight as our dynamic artist self. and sometimes we are the audience philosopher, watching the fair play it's self out, appreciating the glory and gruesque grandure and wondering why. can we ever know? can we stay in one phase of ourselves for concistancies sake? can't we just spin the wheel and play the game?
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