late night MattaClarking through the French Quarter after some good ole Nawlins jazzzzz

[to also fall in love with Gordon Matta Clark, click here]

col eh? a most beautiful afternoon screen error…even my computer wants me to go home!

looks even cooler inverted methinks:

it makes just a little more sense in the wilderness and my love of life multiplies…surrounded by others also in search of light.

Some mornings I meditate to Valtari…add a little Sigur Ros and transcend into the sublime…

Shanti means peace. Sunday morning I stood in the Catskill woods inhaling morning mist as it dissolved into the mountain. My tongue tasted the confluence of all five elements at once and some minuscule balance within me came to center.

There isn’t much to be said about losing someone beautiful…I hope as his being merges with the universe, kissed by death like the mountain in the mist, that he can lose himself and rejoice in his surrender to the cosmic embrace.

I may never read the Upanishads or the Vedas in their entirety, but I am so grateful that Sanskrit has come alive in me again. Here is a most radiant summation of wholeness excerpted from the Ishavasya Upanishad, part of the Yajur Veda. Let the shlokas resound in every grieving heart, that there may be no notion of grief any more…

ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात्पुर्णमुदच्यते
पूर्णश्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते ॥
ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः ॥

LOL!

When I was a kid I had to write an essay on, “If I was a road…”

shed your shower shame n bring a tent to pitch @ el cosmico

Judd silhouette

Gimme a concrete box, n I’ll give you a backflip n say aauuhhmm! (oh, and Natalie will take a picture of it)

wouldn’t you if you were here?

That mini red dot on the horizon is a Marfa light. If you go out on an oddly aligned time of night, you’ll see these lights appear and disappear, they move along the horizon (not like cars). Apparently aliens flash their lights at people here, ALL year long. Go to Marfa. See Judd. See the stars. And, SEE MYSTERY LIGHTS.

Nestled on the pavement caught unwittingly between a Coca-Cola and an American Eagle advertisement, cigarette in hand (notice the most elegant of holds), her sign reads:

Please help me please

Totally Homeless

A $1.oo sure will help me a lot

(I sleep on the streets)

Please help me

God Bless You 

Somehow, the cigarettes, the backpack, the reading glasses and that vacant stare just don’t compare to her counterparts lining the streets of say, Mumbai…poverty redefined in New York City. Or is that being politically incorrect?

The color of the day.

How it felt to be a child.

The feeling of saltwater on your sunburned legs.

Sometimes the water is yellow. Sometimes it's red.

The color in memory depends on the day.

I won't tell the story the way it happened.

I'll tell it the

way I remember it."
- Mitch Glazer (Adaptive screenplay for Charles Dickens' Great Expectations)

Revisiting an old post from September 15th 2009…two years older transcendence still evades, but the sorcery is ever more delightful.

“And if you think of Brick, for instance,
and you say to Brick,
“What do you want Brick?”
And Brick says to you
“I like an Arch.”

And if you say to Brick
“Look, arches are expensive,
and I can use a concrete lentil over you.
What do you think of that?”
“Brick?”

Brick says:
“… I like an Arch””

-Louis Kahn

what I miss most about the dirty south is the music (and the biscuits)…

art from art from years ago- words make the most beautiful pictures and I just had to paint hers…