Friday, October 31, 2008
"You are something the whole universe is doing in the same way that a wave is something the whole ocean is doing." --- Alan Watts
This person is
you and i am
like a
mirror and you're
invisible I am
like a
photograph
taken in your kitchen
at a party on
halloween
and the
colour of
fall inside your
veins and
your minds i
am the
unseen place you are
looking for a
way
to find the
truth
in your
life i am the
door to your
unknown and the
morning glory i
am a
wordless you i am
the red-yellow
wave
in an
eyes-closed
forever
mystery.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Neil Young is my hero
Now, I apologize that this video is kinda dull-- but listen to the song anyway whilst surfing the 'net.
A forgotten Neil Young classic-- Cowgirl in the Sand-- 10 minutes of mind-blowing guitar shredding.
Although I've always thought his guitar playing was good, this song reminds me that he's actually masterful. I recommend headphones and beer with it.
Seriously-- this song will blow your mind.
He wrote it in 1969, when he was delirious in a 103-degree fever.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Renzo Gracie
Like I told you before, I will die shitting on my pants, like everybody else, but knowing who I was, you know, knowing for sure and truly who I was.
Squeeze
You shook my hand
in the way
that transmits strength
discipline and
wonder from
the fingertips
You told me
that I should
be able to say
anything in a
few sentences
and what was the point
of my deepness anyway?
Could I change
the world?
I gave up on
changing anything
other than myself
years ago
The only thing
to be done
is to know that
it is your truth
and no one else's
that can guide you
Only you will know
the fear
Only you will know
the purity of your
vision
Squeeze and tell me
then, why are you here?
in the way
that transmits strength
discipline and
wonder from
the fingertips
You told me
that I should
be able to say
anything in a
few sentences
and what was the point
of my deepness anyway?
Could I change
the world?
I gave up on
changing anything
other than myself
years ago
The only thing
to be done
is to know that
it is your truth
and no one else's
that can guide you
Only you will know
the fear
Only you will know
the purity of your
vision
Squeeze and tell me
then, why are you here?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
So you think
You walked in, spine straight,
because we're animals
and there's just something
that isn't quite right
between us
You criticised my dress
not thinking that I could
ever do such business
"Every time I speak to you
your resume is getting bigger,
congratulations"
"Who would guess
that I know
your dirty secrets"
"Professional, found
inebriated, working, being free"
It could shock the world,
or maybe your world
because you don't understand
what it means and
what it takes
and you think you know me
How else could it be that
every time we speak
I get just a little bit bigger
Nothing happens
that way
because we're animals
and there's just something
that isn't quite right
between us
You criticised my dress
not thinking that I could
ever do such business
"Every time I speak to you
your resume is getting bigger,
congratulations"
"Who would guess
that I know
your dirty secrets"
"Professional, found
inebriated, working, being free"
It could shock the world,
or maybe your world
because you don't understand
what it means and
what it takes
and you think you know me
How else could it be that
every time we speak
I get just a little bit bigger
Nothing happens
that way
Monday, October 27, 2008
Cockatrice
Hi.
Is it just me or is there a very dramatic global event unfolding. Im not sure if you all are beleiving the hype or not but it would seem as if whole national economies are collapsing around the world like a house of cards. Am i wrong. What does this mean. Could I get some insight here.
untitled 27
they invade my memory: hands do
your hands:
little warm worms
digging in my cold earth
tiny heart shaped palms
kissed
and sent off to school
this morning: your fingers trace a line
on the corridor wall
as we walk to room 100
your hands (that take the shape of swans,
mountains, oceans, flowers,
and pillows) wring the memory out of me.
and maybe it wouldn't be so bad
if i could forget the shape of your hand
running down my back
when we said goodbye too often
your little hands do
your hands:
little warm worms
digging in my cold earth
tiny heart shaped palms
kissed
and sent off to school
this morning: your fingers trace a line
on the corridor wall
as we walk to room 100
your hands (that take the shape of swans,
mountains, oceans, flowers,
and pillows) wring the memory out of me.
and maybe it wouldn't be so bad
if i could forget the shape of your hand
running down my back
when we said goodbye too often
your little hands do
Sunday, October 26, 2008
ya un ecureuil qui s'est tape un criss de snack, part 1
So, this is a new project-- a tracking of the white-board communication between 4 people in a very busy (but tranquil) house.In this, the first chapter of our drama, someone has left a garbage bag on the balcony, and a squirrel has had un criss de snack, scattering trash everywhere.
un criss de snack, part 2
here, we have the players in this drama-- the ecureuil qui s'est tape un criss de snack as well as, clockwise from top:
--K-Man, Quebecois artist, film technician, social facilitator, ambassador.
--Emilio Esteban: lover, artist, chef, musician, bon vivant.
--LoCo: blogger, student of journalism, feminist, prairie-born.
--WolfBoy: devotee, writer, penitent, celebrant, hunger artist.
JQ Bridge and Trees, Autumn, #1
So... here are five hopefully in sequence pictures of my ongoing series-- these comprise a sample of about 900 pics in this period-- Sept-Oct 08.
SketchCrawl #20 Winnipeg 2
My sketchcrawl found me at Don's Deli to start where I bumped into many artists, including Chris Pancoe, Jennie O'Keefe, Cyrus Smith, Ted Mayer, and the infamous and notoriously 30, Daniel Saidman.
Sketchcrawl #20 - Winnipeg
Sketchcrawl #20.01
Central Park, Winnipeg.
Acrylic on Canvas
16"x20"
Sketchcrawl #20.02Central Park, Winnipeg
Oil Pastel on Black Stonehenge.
11"x14"
Saturday, October 25, 2008
First Little Studio
That snowboard in the corner gives away how old school (or just old maybe) I am. It's like a dinosaur, but a sleek deadly one, like a velociraptor or something. Soon I will resurrect it, and then ride it. I'm pretty excited. I hope I don't fall down and break my hip.
The scenery around here should be inspiring for art making. The canvas on the left is going to be an abstract painting based on the different colours and textures that I think are unique to this place (or at least different from Winnipeg or Korea).
Friday, October 24, 2008
before you say anything
in lieu
of all that you have said
of all that I have not done
of all that could have been
of whatever you wanted it to be
of the way things just are
of how it's supposed to be
of what everyone says
of this and that and the other
of not trying hard enough
of labels that don't fit
of round pegs and square holes
of wanting to make it all right
let's just do nothing for a change
of all that you have said
of all that I have not done
of all that could have been
of whatever you wanted it to be
of the way things just are
of how it's supposed to be
of what everyone says
of this and that and the other
of not trying hard enough
of labels that don't fit
of round pegs and square holes
of wanting to make it all right
let's just do nothing for a change
quail
there is a sound there
just over there
a sign of ... something
not ominous, not overbearing
barely there in the air
just at the edge of hearing
there is a sound that tells
that speaks that swells
in the overdone days
that seeks to compell
that draws you in
that moves the wind
of autumn's breath
the world it spins
why does the sun rise
over that forlorn prize
hidden in moonlight
and smothered in lies
and the cause of it all
is the sound, is the call
from eons ago
sun rise and sun fall
there is a sound
a pounding around
an up and a down
oscillating like frowns
and smiles and smirks
passing in and out and
through and on and away
there is
just over there
a sign of ... something
not ominous, not overbearing
barely there in the air
just at the edge of hearing
there is a sound that tells
that speaks that swells
in the overdone days
that seeks to compell
that draws you in
that moves the wind
of autumn's breath
the world it spins
why does the sun rise
over that forlorn prize
hidden in moonlight
and smothered in lies
and the cause of it all
is the sound, is the call
from eons ago
sun rise and sun fall
there is a sound
a pounding around
an up and a down
oscillating like frowns
and smiles and smirks
passing in and out and
through and on and away
there is
Wayne Walker
WAYNE WALKER January 7, 1942 – October 19, 2008 It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Wayne Walker on Sunday, October 19, 2008 at the age of 66 years. Remaining to forever cherish Wayne’s memory are his wife Elaine of 43 years of marriage; daughter Melody and son-in-law Brad; son Christopher McKellar; two wonderful grandsons Kyle and Kristopher; mother Nellie Yosyk; sisters Brenda and June; as well as cousins, relatives and many, many friends. He was predeceased by his brother Peter Yosyk in 2007. Wayne Walker made his mark in 1954 as “Mr. Rock N’ Roll” and hadn’t stopped since. Starting out playing school dances and teen hops, Wayne survived all the musical trends over the years from the 60’s British Invasion, 70’s Disco craze, New Wave 80’s, Hip Hop 90’s and the New Millennium. 1963 was the year when the Wayne Walker band started playing hotels and clubs. This eventually opened the door for other local bands, as hotels were introduced to LIVE music in their rooms, which soon became the demands of the patrons. Through the sixties and seventies, Wayne worked at many Rock N’ Roll revival tours. Playing with the likes of Buddy Knox, Ronnie Hawkins and Johnny Rovers, not only establishing Wayne’s credibility on an international level, it created a friendship among Rock N’ Roll pioneers. When Wayne Walker hit the stage, it became ALIVE with those good old 50’s and 60’s sounds. In June 1987 while performing “Shakin All Over” (A Manitoba musicians reunion of the past 30 years), it was very evident that Wayne was heavily respected by his peers as “Mr. Rock N’ Roll”. A celebration of Wayne’s life will be held on Thursday, October 30 at 8:00 p.m. at the Pony Corral, 1700 Pembina Highway. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Wayne’s memory to the charity of one’s choice. WOJCIK'S FUNERAL CHAPEL & CREMATORIUM 1020 MAIN STREET 586 - 8668
Leaving
the words are frozen to my tongue
tonight.
here in front of my violet Remington,
amphitheatre of metal letters, relief
eludes me
there is no playing of this field
tonight.
on sullivan street
in the shadow of the towers
in this small cavern of an apartment
where street light shines my skin
day glow and translucent
like those scientific images of babies in the womb
and all I can do is
listen
to the wailing of the fire trucks
in Chinatown, sound of horror instead of alarm,
and I watch
as a ghost makes its way across the crumbling walls
of this apartment, that I hardly recognize
in this light.
tonight.
here in front of my violet Remington,
amphitheatre of metal letters, relief
eludes me
there is no playing of this field
tonight.
on sullivan street
in the shadow of the towers
in this small cavern of an apartment
where street light shines my skin
day glow and translucent
like those scientific images of babies in the womb
and all I can do is
listen
to the wailing of the fire trucks
in Chinatown, sound of horror instead of alarm,
and I watch
as a ghost makes its way across the crumbling walls
of this apartment, that I hardly recognize
in this light.
orienteering
three sat side by side
one was mistaken
one was unperturbed
two were unremarkable
two were constant
one was eroding
passing by I witnessed
and did not comment at the time
looking back I cannot see any more
but only remember
re-envision re-create and respond
three sat ... but did they?
did - what does that mean?
{tangent: in the study of language, one learns that tense seems to be a characteristic of all known languages, which is an interesting fact given that we can never experience the past, but only see it in our minds' eye - and thus every language seems to be concerned foremost with matters of the mind and not external reality - or perhaps better, the mind is the reality of language?}
I am an explorer
but I do not make a map
or carry a journal
but merely take notice of the
land marks
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hi, how are you, i love this squirrel and this whiteboard, and i love the people who are doing arts, and i love pelicans, and i love lake winnipeg, and i love the pudget sound, and i love soup so much that's insane, and i love pouring people, and i love fake voices.
Madame Sanchez