Fantastic Mr. Fox

The apple may not look real, but at least it has stars on it.

Light

Lights

albury tafe student installation, originally uploaded by Annie Edney.

So what do I do now? On the ever pressing and perceptual path to self discovery it can all get so overwhelming. Explanations never suffice. As more is found, more is needed. Less is articulated. Lights seem to make it a little better. Aware. I guess that is the nature of what they do. What they are for. I don't feel like telling you. Just know already. Just feel it. Just get me. Make me want to know more. Make me want to get devoured slowly and unknowingly. Come now. Let's just be honest. Don't just nod your head here.

Lifeboats

Lifeboats:
Clinging to each others genitals like lifeboats
it was clear, at least to me,
that we were both looking to get saved. -me

Xerox Candy Bar:
Ah,
you're just a copy
of all the candy bars
I've ever eaten -Richard Brautigan

Excerpt from Lady Lazarus:
Dying,
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

"A miracle!"
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart-
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash-
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there-

A cake of soap.
A wedding ring.
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air. -Sylvia Plath

The View From the Top

Seventeen Again

Yesterday at Scottish Rite the radiologist asked me how old I was. Apparently you have to be 18 to be around the radiation equipment and APPARENTLEY I look SEVENTEEN! Needless to say I was not flattered. I wonder how old I will be when I finally appreciate the fact that I look young.

In the meantime...I love this self portrait that Jason Travis took. Look at it too.

Korn

Blueberry

I seemed to have aquired some sort of dreadlock in the back of my head and I have spent the better part of the night attempting to get it out. Tropical storm Ida seems to incite Rastafarianism. This morning was strange but I got some hashbrowns out of it.



This week has been fun as blueberry, apple and pumpkin pie.