BruceHawking-Lee 

Einstein the Barbarian 

Yet Another Brokenhead Sunrise

Dark Halo

PICT0047, originally uploaded by The Stranger.

Im working out a system:
1 leads to 2 leads to 3 leads to 4 leads to 5

1. The Road to Excess Leads to
The Palace of Wisdom...
For we never know what is Enough
Until we know what is More than Enough

2. Renunciation: leaving behind all your worldly possesions and desires.

3. Truth is infinite and thus beyond the realm of words or ideas which by their essential nature are finite and limiting.

4. Let teachers and preists and philosophers dwell over matters of reality and illusion. I know this; if life is an illusion I too am an illusion and being thus the illusion is real to me. I live, I lust, I burn with life, I slay, and I am content.

5. now:

Last night I went to a pow-wow starring this dude John Perkins who's an emminant writer on the subject of new-age shamanism. Much of the same story as Casteneda except still living and I guess more rational and mainstream. He's the one who formed this new age concept of Shamanism with it's systems and workshops etc. Pretty gnarly dude though. Good speaker and good message. He lived with Natives called the shwa in south america the orginal head shrinkers and took a lot of ayawaska( and from the sounds of things had a lot of sex). Anyways at the end he started talking about all these drugs and talked at length about the datura plant and how deadly poisonous and dangerous it is. After wards he made everyone sniff tobaco water up their noses! Funny watching this line up of middle age spiriitual seekers from new york city snorting tobacco water up their noses! And he's sitting there with this shite eating grin like some new-age john the baptist. I was impressed.

Later I ended up talking with a lot of people about my datura experience and I made note that out of the three of us who took it that night one of us is dead and the other one went completely straight edge. And I ended up sort of in the middle I guess.

Oh ya, one more thing; it's amazing how this date 2012 is flying around here. I hear about it almost every day. It's getting almost as much hype as the millenium bug. For those of you who don't know most new age circles consider us to be in the last days, the ending of the piscian age, the ending of the age of kali, the end of the hopi prophecies, the end of the mayan calender and the list goes on and on. And somehow all of these things are supposed to climax and shift in 2012. If not there's going to be a lot of sad new agers.

Today I wandered into the dining hall and sat down to eat by myself because I usually can't remember how to speak english until at least an hour after I wake up. So this lady comes up and sits down and starts asking me about Jesus and sure enough I end up talking about the guy for like 45 minutes beginning with I am the light, leading to Jesus having sex with Magdelaine, and finally climaxing with the fulfillment of the book of revelations; nuclear holocaust in the year 2012.

Ghandi-T 

History = Funny

This is pretty hilarious--

Read it-- it's a woman (1940's or so) writing to tell her son about how her and Paw have just gotten one of "those new things you might have heard of in some houses called 'bathrooms'".

It's not just funny (though it is, especially the ending), but it's also a neat bit of local history.

thoughts on art/artists

This is from the Robert Genn twice-weekly newsletter. (www.painterskeys.com)


When I was a kid my folks took me on a road trip. As we approached the town of Hope, B.C., we saw, crawling up the shoulder of a steep hill, an ancient Model T Ford. A skinny, mustachioed man wearing a fedora was sitting up tall behind the wheel. Below him, a sign on the side of the old car read"Toronto or Bust." Toronto was 5500 miles away. As we flew by in our '47 Chev Fleetline I distinctly remember my dad turning to me, winking, and saying, "No hope." My mom laughed.

Dad turned out to be wrong. Two months later we read about the guy in the newspaper. He had driven from Vancouver, B.C., toToronto, Ontario in a 1914 Ford. And then--he drove back!
I've often thought about that fleeting image and the guy behind the wheel. Perhaps it was the seed that became my lifelong love of vintage cars. But it was the look of expectation that was on his face—-it was a look of hope. He was unconventional. He knew not where he would spend the night. He was traveling according to his own code. And he feared not.

We artists are like that guy. We stick our necks out with old fashioned technology and try to make a journey out of it. This journey takes us goodness knows where. But that's the point. Every day we crank up the old machine and head out once more along the shoulder of life. Many of us do not make it toToronto, New York, London, Paris or even Oz. Who is there among us who fully understands where we get our vision or to what end it goes? Who understands fully how what we do can be both agreeable and disagreeable? To folks like us, the main thing is that we are on the road. And what a road

Loon?

Snapper

Mouse

Beaver

Water 2

Water

Couple

Butterfly

Storm Clouds

Running with the Caribou 

Help me decide. Should I spend another year in Korea, go to Japan, B.C. or Winnipeg? 

Food For Thought...

"What garlic is to food, insanity is to art." (Anonymous)

Alone in the Forest