Returning...

...Haven' hit this shit for awhile.  Nice to see you all again.
I will put together a collection of fun links and put them all together soon.
Bundle it all up with some new art imagery and, you know, Bob's your
fucking uncle.  Hi-ya!!!!!!!!

Lately...

Scarab beetles, vertebrae,the eye is lifted from an Austin Osman
Spare sketch in a friend's book.  Can you find the
little temple guardian?

 ...I've been painting up guitar cases.  It's pretty fun for me.

This one above was done for Jodi Peck.

She's making new music.

This is the case for a six-string bass.  

I find it hard to play.  I get lost, play

the wrong string.  

Here's a dose of...

                         ...Something or other.  A little piece of writing.
                                  Older thing.  I try to just let them fall out, you know.
                                     The ugly censor raises it's spectral head often enough,
                                                               any of you who've tried it, know.

                                           Read this.  Go and bring something
                                                                             you love into
                                                                                  existence.

                                      Let the exploration to become wetter,
                                                             nastier, more full of joy.

                                                                         And good luck.

Further Manifestations of EyeAlone

The temple guardian, inverted and angry

Prayer, Evocation, Arising


And that gently cold-hearted, enormous

manifestation of the Suchness eases

in, plump lip barely moving, "this is it, this is 

what we get, naked and indechiperable 

still, hot-headed children of the sun 

such as we are, you, with your tongue 

fresh off my clit, juices still in your beard,

a face that smells rich of pussy and 

me, now certain.  The performance anxiety and 

whatever else trailing behind us like the sweet 

peace of history that it is."

"Maybe things will become that much 

more magnificent still.  I can see it because 

at this point life still contains this strange waiting. 

This strange untimely nakedness.

This uncomfortable exposure, but 

that is the nature of language and the 

nature of trying.  If you can't leave things behind then 

you can't find the future and you realize now, way too late, that your head 

isn't on straight and never was and that it is only that foolish notion, 

that such a thing is possible,

that sent you tumbling into this wet mess in the first place.

But, but you are getting out of it.  You see it for 

what it is, simply a spiral who's direction you get to control, who's 

sensitivity you are the master of, and you can embrace whatever you 

need to.  You can leave all those useless whispers of morality that 

have ruled you behind. You can shake your sweet ass in the face of 

the law because all they can do is punish you now, You've stepped beyond 

humiliation and left behind every part of that tired symphony.  You have 

turned into gold.  All it took was this.  All it took 

was the complete crushing of everything you held 

dear.  The total annihilation of your own sense of meaning.  All it took was a 

language so barbaric and open 

you had to stagger silently and empty-eyed between the useless 

void and the cosmic chatter.  For a really long time. You 

have mastered the empty ambiguity

and are now cutting the cords.  I want your cock. 

I freed you in a distant whisper, in a voice that promised you

the fucking mother of all line breaks.  I got you past every device

 you understood and now you are finally palpable.  You're lucky I like 

it rough because you have what some would call 

a rape aura but, context considered, I think it's beautiful.  I call it the perfect 

level of restraint, a contained violence in a culture

at war with itself.  I call it a sweet view of the moist hereafter, that doesn't 

exist.  I'm quite sure there is an applicable Missy Elliot quote but I 

have no idea what it is and furthermore, I don't really care."

Then she cupped my balls in her 

smooth left hand and tickled them 

with her fingernails.  Amen.  

The temple guardian (Eyeless Manifestation)

Truck Stop Erotica, coming soon
to The Deep Sick Wonderful store

Some new naughtlia image work.
Check out the link to naughtlia myspace...some new image work there also...
two new songs in the last bit as well.



Yeah, that's the shameless self-promotion bit right there.

Chew the fat...

 Uhm, I don't know...the thought just arrived for me.   The spilling, sickening fat.


These three images here are from a work entitled, "Beyond the idea, the field, fuck".

There is a Rumi tangent at work.  Images are composed from an image of a human brain, a Glock, and a spatial field arrived at by writing Rumi quotations over top of other Rumi quotations using spray paint.

 This one here is called, "There is only so much time left to go."





Image has been left in a number of alleys, on cheap
paper, inside the scrub drive of thought and so forth.

Will be available as Tshirt shortly.

Likewise this stunning image of the "Lesbian Sex Star".  Adapted from earlier screen prints of the cosmic clam bumpers (Mother Goddess Flesh Magic)this super-swell vertical design is likely going to grind a few hips.

This damn thing erased itself on me once now.  I see myself developing a twitch.  This is The Relaxometer.  Control your brainwaves or they will control you. 

This here is I, Sun.  It will reappear as a character, or better, as a variety of manifestations.  The sun element is composed of rifle rounds.  The Eye element; the teacher, the hermetical, the quizzical and learned and war-like and somehow oddly playful.

Like all the elements that will rise and fall in the work represented on this site, there is an observable process of dissolution and alternate integrations, the pursuit of combinatory knowledge.  The path.  Or just something dumb and needy.


Fuckin' thing I just thought about it all erasing again, twitch.  Unfocussed. 

This work is "The Soul, VLT".  It is sideways and I can't fix it.  Blogger contains insufficient knowledge to correct problem.  I,sun is present in full form and also as Eye,Alone.  The Temple Guardian (another character that has multiple and constantly renewing manifestations) is present in two manifestations, both repeating.  The Penisflower, or Dickweed, or Wholonic Stamen Principle (another icon to learn and cross identify; sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes neutral, always poignantly self aware, the still point, but throbbing element of the creation) appears in partial form, three of its eight heads making an appearance.    

Sideways again.  The Temple Guardian appears as two manifestations in the center of the canvas, either seperating on joining.  The Guided Eyefishes Absolute from the Possible Radars collide where the guardians meet.  The I, Sun has sperated completely from Eye, Alone who manifests in two forms, strongly defined from the magical word salad chaos that generates the background.  The phallic element rears its head.

"Deeper Into That Space"

This more rustic piece of work is entitled, "Standing Cunnilingus; Truck Stop Erotica".  It is meant to call up feeings of getting emptied out somewhere that lacks beauty and yet is made sweet, beautiful by the actions it contains. 
You know, like fucking in a truck stop bathroom.

The Guided Eyefish is represented by the Guiding Principles, which travel vertically in the middle of the painting.  The Temple Guardian is present as well, guaranteeing the beauty of the moment is respected. 

The last image is a bone.  It's a dinosaur bone.  Or, at least, I hope it is.  All works are available for sale, links coming soon...

People Get Mad

This is not some type of game to be interesting.  If you are interesting, the poison comes for you.

Making paintings, art, out here.  Playing the Naughtlia scene.  Hammering out that particular set of possibilities.  Also, these other images are coming up.  Becoming important, developing meaning or whatever.  Nothing too deep as that would be foolish.  Fuck, I don't know...I'm just trying to play along a little bit...So I don't have to play along a lot, you know.  The work will be appearing here, soon.