Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
This is my easel.
I`ve been staring at it, and nothing.
It`s been 2 days. Nothing. Not a Hing.
I`ve put a canvas on it, paper, wood-nothing.
Does this mean it`s time to put the guitar down for a while?
Does this mean I`ve exhausted my visual well?
What do the Alfa folks do in time such as these?
Is there a Viagra for artistic impotence?
It`s not so much a blank mind, but more of
an overwhelming wave of what topic to
explore. I bore easily.
Easely as well.
I used to mock those with blocks.
"Make a random L7 finger-frame in your surroundings, there`s your topic" I would say.
Not today, or yesterday. My formula is weak.
I need outside help.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
2-- The cause of suffering is desire.
3-- Ridding yourself of desire or attachments will aleviate (though not eliminate) suffering.
4-- The way to acheive this is the 8-fold path. The 8-fold path involves living with humility, compassion, simplicity, wisdom, love. And it involves meditating.
So what are you waiting for???
Im gosh darned sick and tired of all you hypocritical sorcerors telling me that magic isn't real. Im sick and gosh darned tired of carrying all the magical esoteric weight myself. Can't you see this is a heavy burden? All the time beleiving in the invisible. While everyone around me laughs at my miraculous tricks saying "Silly Tiger, Tricks are for kids".
Face the facts people. Grow up. All the miracles, all your dreams, all your fantasies, all the aliens, cropcircles, 911 was a hoax, sasquatches, atlantis, all the smoke and fire that rises in tendrils just beyond your 2d vision. I breath them in and blow them out. The Life sustaining 4th dimension.
All your money, all your drama, all your cities and jobs and educations. Where will they be when you are dead?
Come join me on the black rainbow bridge that spans the thick oily river. Leave your shiny shoes on the other side. Apocalypse is coming and you won't need them where we're going.
Let's die together, drunk beyond belief on Coca Cola. Let's smoke cigarettes freely, unafraid of the mounties. Let's ride the wild sacred cow with one hand waving free.
Let's climb into the grandfather tree and go to sleep for 6 years. Like Guatama. Or his reincarnation.
Johnny Cash and June Carter are dead, why don't we reincarnate them. Ill take pills, you talk in a country accent, we'll tour all the prisons and make a fortune.
Robin Hood and little John running through the forest laughing back and forth at what the other has to say. Reminiscin this'n that'n having such a good time. Odelade odelade golly what a day.
Never ever thinking there was danger in the water. Drinking and drinking and guzzling it down. Never ever thinking a scheming sherrif and his posse had followed them, and were gathering around.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
I have long legs and arms, a sloping forehead and deep set eyes and heavy brow very much like a cro-magnum man. I have not much facial or body hair.
My grandmother is purely Ukranian. Lobchuk like my Uncle Bill. My grandfather Thorgeir Bjarnason was left on the doorstep of an icelandic family and Im his only male heir. One legend tells that he is the offspring of a native girl and a catholic preist.
The other side Courtnage is british tractor salesmen from Moosejaw saskatewan. Grandmother on that side is strong Scottish clan Birss.
That's it. Nobody famous or anything.
you, me, the abandonded
house of social politics
nowhere yet to dream
get on this wild horse of mine
for all the best of times
the good is all but gone
delete another trip around the sun
All for one moment
and the power of
a sweet latent kiss
awake at the end
of all of this
IMAGINE the IMPOSSIBLE(from my black book)
and sleeping pills
a little drop of truth
clears the skies
as wild wisps of inspiration across my desolate praire sky
that perfect part of you
like I do
Imagine the world I will draw for you
Thursday, February 23, 2006
My mother's side stems from Belgium, when General Andres van Severen (the first picture), an engineer in the Belgian Royal Court of Princess Maria Carlota Amelia, was tasked to build a railroad across Mexico.
Daughter of Leopold I of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, king of Belgium, and Louise of France, the Princess married the archduke of Austria, younger brother of the Hapsburg Austrian Emperor Francis Joseph I, on July 27, 1856.
In 1864, Maximilian and Carlota arrived in Mexico, placed on the throne by Napoleon III as Emperor and Empress of Mexico. (Her father had been offered the Mexican throne and rejected it, years earlier.) Maximilian and Carlota believed that they had the support of the Mexican people. But nationalism in Mexico was running high, and soon the Mexican people rejected foreign rule. When Maximilian refused to leave after the French troops pulled out, the Mexican forces arrested the imposed Emperor.
This is when Andres high-tailed it to El Salvador.
The Princess in the meantime went to Europe to attempt to gain support for her husband, but during that time, she slipped into a serious depression. Maximilian was executed (June 10, 1867). Carlota lived in seclusion for the last nearly sixty years of her life in Belgium and Italy, never recovering her mental health.
Old Andres married, and had two children, Estanislao and Adela (pictured here as well). Estanislao is my great-grandfather. And this is why many of my cousins have light eyes and blond hair.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Wow, just saw Kundun the scorcese flick about the Dalai lama as I pounded my first little bottle of rum in a while. the brand is "Old Monk Rum" from India. As it turns out I am not broke but my higher self had hidden my allowance in a place where my lower self couldn't find it.
Ive given myself to a new master for a period of ten days. A hindu Indian descendant of the warrior caste of these mountains. He is an artist gem collector painter and master wood carver. He's teaching me how to carve wood.
I've built a small temple in my room and pray there every night. Im writing a new book and getting a lot of video audio photo documentation.
Now I feel more intense about everything that is happening around me.
Funny how the monks here and the Dalai Lama remind me so much of the Jedi.
I have a new good guitar and am practicing for the tour in the motherland this summer. I welcome you all to join me.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
In the West, "jihad" is generally translated as "holy war", a usage the media has popularized. According to Islamic teachings, it is unholy to instigate or start war; however, some wars are inevitable and justifiable. If we translate the words "holy war" back into Arabic we find "harbun muqaddasatun", or for "the holy war", "al-harbu al-muqaddasatu".
Unfortunately, some Muslim writers and translators of the Qur'an, the Hadith and other Islamic literature translate the term "jihad" as "holy war", due to the influence of centuries-old Western propaganda. This could be a reflection of the Christian use of the term "Holy War" to refer to the Crusades of a thousand years ago. However, the Arabic words for "war" are "harb" or "qital", which are found in the Qur'an and Hadith.
For Muslims the term jihad is applied to all forms of striving and has developed some special meanings over time.
In conclusion, jihad in Islam is striving in the way of Allah by pen, tongue, hand, media and, if inevitable, with arms. However, jihad in Islam does not include striving for individual or national power, dominance, glory, wealth, prestige or pride.
How one looks is important
what is percieved is not the same
trajic here the line I cross
of art and my more humble name
and please see the beauty i beg
of a pidgeon shimmering there
for I am just such a dove
beside you in the market square
knife wounds echo thigh high eleven
connections odd not even
is it art or a heart
that has no mind to lie, to lie, to lie
Next, tie the coconut down, and put a sweet inside. What happens next is pure attachment. The monkey smells the sweet, puts his hand into the coconut, grabs the sweet and ... the hole is too small to let a fist out of the coconut.
The last thing a monkey would consider is to let go of the sweet, so it remains there indefinitely, literally tied down by his own attachment.
Often they only let go when they fall asleep or become unconscious because of exhaustion.
now, having said this (actually it's a quote from buddhist website), are these really sutras? maybe a sutra is a big long prayer?
Monday, February 20, 2006
The word Jihad signifies the exertion of one's power to the utmost of one's capacity in the path of Allah.
The Jihad against the enemies of Allah with one's life is only a part of the struggle which a true servant of Allah carries on against his own evil self for the sake of the Lord.
You can fulfill this struggle in four ways, by your heart, by your tongue, by your hands, and by the sword.
Whoever amongst you who sees something abominable, you should endevour to change it.
The best of Jihad is the uttering of the word of truth in the face of a tyrant ruler.
There do arise occasions in which the use of arms becomes a dire necessity and even a slight show of weakness under these circumstances leads to disasterous consequences. Islam has stressed the need of rising to such occasions and has exhortd its followers to face the dangers that might thus beset them bravely and manfully.
The Quran also explains the function of war as moral neccessity. It is with the help of force that the ever-mounting evil in human life is curbed. For if it continues to spread unchecked it would brutally shake the basis of moral order and justice in human society so much that even the places of worship would not be safe at the wicked elements of the human race.
"And were it not for Allah's reppelling people, some of them by means of others, the earth surely would be corrupted, but Allah is Gracious unto the worlds."
Sunday, February 19, 2006
The Hanged Man represents the uiversal principle of recognizing and awakening to repetitive patterns that bind, limit, and restrict our growth and evolution. In order to break limiting patterns, it is often necessary to take a distinctly different posture, or stance, such as turning ourselves up-side-down to get another view of a restrictive pattern or stuck place in consciousness that is being experienced.
The Hanged Man represents that state of consciousness which requires that we move beyond ego and trust the deeper aspects of who we are. Often this symbol might be viewed as the crucifiction of the ego or of egoic patterns which are no longer constructive. The universal symbol associated with repetitive patterns is the labyrinth, represented by the spiral in the background. This symbol ultimately teaches us that there are always many more options, solutions, and perspectives to consider than those in which we are currently invested.
Often, when we experience ourselves being bound or limited, there is a sense of being numb, asleep, depressed, or blind. The sleeping snakes remind us that nothing is renewed or regenerated when we are fixated or stuck. The Egyptian Ankh(the reversed cross holding the foot of the man) is a symbol of unlimited life force, constantly accessible for creative use.
By releasing the wounded parts of the past that we still hold in our minds, we are able to express our feelings abundantly from a place of knowing our priorities and commitments. Love with wisdom comes from a place of integrity, which is the alignment of mind, heart, and action in all that we do. When we release our limiting and destructive patterns, we are free to openly express our inherent love with wisdom in the world.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
The staple of my poetry is largely a description of the joys of battle, the struggle for mastery, and the perils of the long dark journeying through the waste. The noble horse and camel, the keen flashing sword in battle, the deadly lance and arrow, the swift sudden storms that sweep over mountain and plain, driving the goats and wild antelope in panic fear to their fastness, while the lightning flashes and thunder roars, and the rain torrents hurry down the stony watercourse. These are the themes of my song.
And prefaced to nearly everyone of my longer poemsis a wail of lament over the ashes of a long deserted encampment, once the home of a beloved maiden, a tearful note of human sorrow to attune the heart of softened melancholy.
Praise and prayer is often heard, and wild and terrible oaths are also not wanting.
I am above all things, self-centered, self-reliant, and confident that the cunning of my own strong right hand will conquer fate.
I will take the arrows of divination, but if the answer squares not with my desire I will hurl them back wrathfully and scornfully in the face of my idol.
My idol. The one to whom all my lesser gods pay their respect. The one to whom I pay the devotion of my soul:
The mysterious Goddess.
Allah knows well those times when I will stand forth a lion to lead men or face those that rushed on me. Yea, many a slaughtered beast I will give to the gamers, often I will journey along where none will venture to share my way. I will slay, to feast my fellows, the beast I ride. At times I will rent my robe in twain for two singing girls. There will be times when underneath the stress of spears our steeds will plunge and break and back. Yet mine will be the fingers deft that turn from our line the steel. And hosts like the locusts swarm will sweep upon me alone, and my hand it will be that stems and gathers in one their spears.