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Wondering…

I find it is getting harder and harder to connect with people on blogs and the internet in general.  For poetry it is a good quick way to get feedback on your words, but it still lacks the subtleties of glances, posture, scent…etc.  And I’m finding I need these things more and more right now as those are the things that stay with me…not words.

Part of it is my own inability to explain myself clearly which leads to misunderstandings and regrets.  Another part of it is time, for instance today I cleaned out the barn, had the well drilled and installed a new fence line so by the time I got on here I was pretty much toast.  

But when I find people with holier than thou attitudes comparing Obama to Bush on the front page I have to start wondering…

Sign Me Up – a poem

been all over and it looks the same just another excuse for buildings

said I been all over and it looks the same

ice cream stands and brand new cars

attorneys at law and Jehovah’s Witnesses

how many churches do they need

yeah how many churches do they need

well sign me up for the

ChurchofLatterDayPentecostalReformistEpiscopalianPostJesuitSacrificialCommunionoftheNew TestamentRevisionists

and I’ll be covered when I go

but for now i got Crowley in a cup

and the moon is pulling

the moon it pulls

hop into the inbetween

again again again

hop into the inbetween

aren’t you overdue?

the flags they flew at 6000 feet

the flags they flew at dawn

your shirt is here in place of you

your boots

your hat

and gloves

It’s the economy, stupid.

I was going to launch into a rant about how not to throw a local festival, but as I began writing I realized there was an underlying reason behind the individual failures responsible for a bad show.

A local producer rented the venue space, arranged for bands and vendors, and then opened the gates.  Unfortunately not many people actually showed up.  End result, disgruntled vendors, musicians and fans.  He printed up small fliers and got them out to other concerts but failed to advertise in the local alternative press due to financial matters.  He had to wait for a few people to show up and pay him before he could run out and get supplies, this slowed him down and the event suffered as a result.  Due to the economy he could not afford to pay people to help him during the weekend and though there were plenty of volunteers you get what you pay for.  

Now if the kids who go to the concerts can still afford their internet services they had a chance of finding out about it, if they could afford to put gas into a borrowed vehicle, scrape together $75 bucks for a ticket and grab some bologna and bread on the way out of their college ghetto apartments they could have actually made it to the festival and enjoyed themselves.  Unfortunately only about 150 kids were able to do that and I’m guessing half of those were local musicians looking to make contacts.

Another aspect to this dilemma is distraction…I’m quite content to sit on a lounge chair and watch one good band after another hit the stage, that’s what makes me part of a dying breed.  The younger generation needs more stimulation and activity than that.  They get bored with only one thing to focus on and boredom leads to bad ideas.

Gesture Painting

This is the painting, that is Stan’s converted bus and then there is my mess in the foreground.  At this point the painting was about 2/3rds done.  A few others had worked on it as well.  In the comments I’ll post a picture of the Happy Winner.  Click on the image to see it full size.  There will be some better photos coming from some friends shortly.  But at least now you get to see a bit of my style.

Normally I work on a flat surface so it was a challenge working on the vertical surface again.  I used natural charcoal, acrylic paint and iridescent inks.  The canvas is lightweight, I prefer linen but linen is very expensive.  

I learned:

1. to bring a stool to hold my pallet so there isn’t as much bending over involved.

2. bring some acrylic extender to increase the workability of the paints.

3. set up in the shade next time.

4. letting go of ownership can be a wonderful thing.

 

My Experience at String Fling in Sterling, NY

After an easy drive out to Sterling I had a little difficulty finding the venue, but like most things that are hard to find it was worth the search.  The “gate” consisted of two large trees on either side of the road with some friendly faces there to greet you.  Eric, the Arts Director came out and introduced himself, gave me some background on the venue, musicians and layout of the property.

I was lead to my spot, right in the middle of Vendor Row, quickly unpacked my things and set up my tent.  Stan, my neighbor in a big white converted bus, was the first to say hello, he gave me a tour of his bus and introduced me around to his travel companions.  Stan sells rocks, crystals and anything terrestrial and was going to head to Herkimer to get some more Herkimer Diamonds right after the show.

I exited the bus and was asked if I’d be willing to paint a sign for the Family Village area, a small hollow that sits away from the rest of the venue where things are quieter.  I said sure and was handed a beautiful piece of wood that had been reserved for just this purpose. I broke out my paints and started in on it. People walking by asked what I was doing and who I was and it was a good way to meet new people.

String Fling – Music Fest in Central New York

Hello all you Music and Art fans, just wanted to let you know that I’ve been accepted as one of the visual artists at this year’s String Fling in Sterling, NY. (StringFling on MySpace) I’ll be creating two or three large canvases while the music happens, at the end of the event the pieces will be given away to people in the audience.

What’s a String Fling?  3 Days of Music, Art, Camping and Drum Camp!  The gates open this Thursday at noon, day passes are available for Friday and Saturday too, so if you are in the area stop on by, support local musicians and make some new friends.

An Artist is not an Artist if s/he is not creating.  The time away from the canvas was needed and now I feel like there is something ready to emerge.  I’ll try to get some photos of the pieces in various stages for those who might be interested in seeing them.  For now it is back to packing and sorting through Art supplies.

On the homefront:

I stopped by the local farmer’s house today, the one that will be haying my fields.  Him and his son had just finished up 50 acres and looked like they could go do another 50 before lunch.  Hard workers, nice people, good neighbors.

The yard has been mowed and trimmed, a new small access path is in place so I don’t have to disturb the horses in order to access the back acreage, strawberries are done for the season, apples are getting bigger, Jasper got loose yesterday but came home exhausted and smelling like the swamp and a few dead animals he must have encountered a few hours later.  A quick bath took care of that…thankfully.

Happy Birthday America.

Push Me Pull You

Part of the problem with taking time away from the blogs is finding your voice again, especially when that voice has changed.  The purpose for taking time off was in hopes that the voice would change, but now what?  I guess I’ll start from the beginning.  George Will was recently on the Colbert Report and he said that political parties serve a purpose of unifying people based on what they hate.  That thought stayed with me and as I examined my own reasons for becoming political I realized that they were originally based on hate as well.  Hate of those that turn a blind eye to the suffering of others.  That underlying emotion tainted my perspective and approach to political change.

Through the actions of others I have been able to see the negative effects of someone who is so committed to a cause, lifestyle choice, world view that they lose their perspective due to hate.  So rather than explain the small details I’ll describe the ripple in a larger sense.  Background: A man I expected to not get along with based on a neighbor’s opinion proved to be amazingly enlightened, talented, quick and appreciative of the work.  The person that gave me the opinion has proved to be no help and a constant drain on my time and resources.  

New Freudian Stage Discovered – Old Fart!

A team of scientists and researchers announced a breakthrough in Freudian Theory today.  The team included the esteemed Dr. Numbnutz from Psychedelic State and Dr. Bob (at least that’s what his personalized license plate read) from somewhere in Upstate NY.  By holding up Freud’s personal notebooks to a light they were able to see inverted writing on the back of his notes regarding the Anal Stage of psychological development.

“Basically it boils down to this,” said Numbnutz,”once a caucasian male reaches the age of 65 he enters a stage called ‘Old Fart’.  It is in this stage that the said male will remain for the duration of his life.”

When asked to describe what this stage is like, Numbnutz replied “Like being so far up your own ass you can see what you had for yesterday’s breakfast.”  As examples he listed the following prime “Old Farts”: Jack Cafferty, John McCain + Dick Cheney

More on this breaking story every day for the rest of your life.

Giger form

heatherwinds sift follicles pores

and places where memories would lie

if memory encompassed happiness

an extension of the mother

in Giger form

jettisoned repeatedly in oft ill waters

too shallow to break a fall

too acidic to nurture a result

the wait

broken glass, old doll parts, buried shoes, roof shingles, pool liner, woodchuck hole, coy dogs feeding, turkey vulture circling and more broken glass

4 hours of sleep in 48

body must not break

it’s all at stake

on summit lake

it’s all at stake today

coke bottles, knives, axes, saws, mud, flies, gasoline, diesel, 220, timbers, fuses, fire and molten dreambirds

4 hours of sleep in 48

mind must not break

it’s all at stake

on summit lake

it’s all at stake today

literal and gullible

the way I always was

slow on the uptake

narrow on the intake

rusty and need some work

penned in a rush

on radiator flush

buffed with sand and cloth

slow minds prefer slow pursuits

that’s where my baby might be

down by the river

an ole lover or three

i set her free

didn’t come back to me

didn’t even look to see

cuz I’m gullible

enough to believe

in parable and entropy

in song and singularity

in spirit sunlight and rarity

in you

 

The Construction Phase

The snow has melted, though it did flurry a bit today, the horses decided to sleep in the sunshine this morning.  They picked a spot behind the barn and took a nap while I worked on some projects.  There is an old farm dump on the property that I started clearing out, I rented a dumpster and am quickly filling it up and work on a new rock retaining wall is about half way complete.

The builders showed up this weekend and helped to locate the new house site.  They are a fun-loving family from Vermont that gets along very well.  The father is the most talented carpenter but each son has his own talents as well.  We had lunch and discussed all of the various things to consider when building from scratch.  Luckily: the road into the site is good enough as is to allow for construction vehicles, the house has perfect southern alignment for maximum solar capacity, the spot is already cleared and just needs to be excavated, the tractor should make things easier during the build and they are going to allow me to help with the construction!

 

Worm Ranching!

So I have pasture acres and hay acres that need to have their soils improved.  Turning the soil with amendments over via a harrow device would help in the short term, but turning the soil over can kill beneficial insects and critters and expose the soil to wind and water erosion.  No till drilling will work to place new seed in amongst the existing foliage, but how do I improve the soil without turning it over?

A Berkley graduate came up with the answer, worms.  Of course this answer is what was used by many generations past to turn their undesirable soil into productive farmlands.  In fact New York State’s entire worm population is not indigenous to New York, they were brought here by farmers and fishermen in years past.  Why no worms?  The glaciers forced them out of the area. (for those Creationists reading this: God corralled the worms and sent them to Ireland where St. Patrick thought they were little snakes)

Masked Man was a Fag

There are those nights where sleep just will not happen. As to the title? It was a Lenny Bruce skit, that someone animated, about what if the Lone Ranger was gay and has nothing to do with my post. The sky is full of stars, it’s a crisp 18 degrees with a steady wind blowing the trees.  The vet came to look at the horses, she said they looked good and their weight was right on track.  White salt lick, mineral lick, oats+grains and lots of hay along with plenty of fresh water seems to cover all the bases.  She has lots of horses too, she breeds Quarterhorses in the next town East.  

Today I fixed the electric fence by untangling it from some trees, fixing some broken connectors and driving in some new stakes. There was some old brittle lattice on the covered patio that had to come down.  An apple tree had a real bad case of “black knot” and had to be chopped down before the disease spread to the other trees, luckily I have two new apple trees on order.

 

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