Sunday, 20 May 2012

Meat Robes...

...Mind in Meat Robes...We have a theme.

Just so you know I am wearing my new disguise
and observing the intoxicating lameness.

One must research.
It really is gross, though.

Grab the choice illusion.
Ride the streamline.

Beyond the system is
the art of play.

You can't even read this...
a fragile airy thing inside meat robes (simple as we are) and 
toxic collaboration.  The purity hunters, basking
in the glory of being correct, aim themselves directly
at those lizardly old fucks.  And thank God.  Or whatever.
Someone has to but it seems like odious journeys for 
small change and I can't for the life of me 
believe the best road to change are the ones
you are filtered into.  Just my guess as far as power-plays probably go(the alliteration was an accident, the editorial choice of leaving it, intentional).  

To put it another way:  Make art without permission.

To put it another way:  Play life as you like it.

I'm learning as I go here, and what comes out is what comes.
Spontaneity, or something like it, stay.

I sleep strange hours.  Or, better said, I awake at strange times.
It has to be dealt with.  Perhaps I'll seek medication or 
a more balanced lifestyle.  Then I can be better and more 
effective.  It'll be great, I'm gonna be a go-getter.  Or I'll take pleasure 
in what is.  Read some Li Po.  Kerouack, "Scripture of The Golden

Many translations of the name of 
The Named One.  The sitter.  The Quitter.  The Ready One.  

Another paraphrased gem (watch out for paraphrasing...One
can start spinning words across words until the whole idea
is fucked into incomprehensibility, never mind locatable in form) Telling a man
to be pure is like telling water to be wet.

(I couldn't even read it, I just made it 
straight into mind activity, a swirl of
arising ideas wrap the swirl of past
ideas, none of it me, all of it mind
all of it me, none of it mind).  

Make notes. 
Surf porn.
Study castration cult mythology.
Start new art projects.  
Smoke marijuana.
It can get weird.

It is only

The middle of the night is good.
The early morning is good.
Would you rather be alert and focussed on 
your own project at 3 am or well rested for work
at 8?

I know what I've chosen.  

Each piece is a mysterious event.  A mystic stroke of luck.
Is Is meant to be.

Some new imagery:

The devils at the flea market.

I've started a collection of a certain 
type of Native literature.

Sunday afternoon in the yard.

It's getting slightly loony and 
finally interesting.  
And Faster.


  1. Very interesting, I couldnt agree more....the mind fuck is strong and persistant. So youve quit your day job then? Art is beautiful, but hunger is not. Like to see what you write about when your bowls empty.

    1. You're hungry any way you slice it. Not so much a quitter as one who takes his time. Learns as he goes. Seeks to be the thing he wants. I am not interested in suffering just because I want something different. The difference I want includes a version of abundance.

  2. meh! Your retort is about as useful as a dog licking his own nutsack.

    1. You don't think the dog finds that action useful?! What do you want for you, man/woman?

  3. Stroke the shaft....craddle the balls...clean the pipe....and swallow the gravy! Make sure you use up the econo sized tub of chapstick you have before it expires.

  4. Actually, I want the same thing you do. Ignore my previous rants,friend. Im a man on the edge of complete mental collapse and dislike nearly every facet of pop culture and societal function around me. Cheers. Keep the work coming!

  5. What!!!? You can argue your pretentious point to justify your un-ambitious existence but when someone truly apoligizes for wronging you, your're not capable or humble enough to reply...Go fuck yourself!

  6. By the way, your paintings look like miscellaneous bad t-shirts from the 80's

  7. Yep. Neither one. As for the paintings, they may be bad but they keep you talking. Actually, I appreciated your apology but my ambitions are so low even this blog is too much work. Okay, that's not true. I just don't really find it interesting to argue with anonymous people. Or to deal much with the world at all. And the real truth is I am living thru a family emergency right now and it is teaching me a whole new relationship to the tao. As far ad your weird badgering. Grow up. And much love. Maybe one day you will have the confidence to use a handle. And then, eventually, your name. I will make you a shirt with the painting of your choice on it when that day comes.

  8. Ok, ya got me lol...your the first person I ever trolled. I thought it was fun at first but now i feel ashamed for insulting you. I dig your stuff i was just trying to get a reaction out of you...way to stand your ground

  9. Yo cameron, am pleased with the words....echo of my own feelings about said cultural aenimatic transformation

  10. Ps...Anonymous is a FUCKING DOUCHEBAG!

  11. Hey anonymous, I trolled your mom and she wasnt that good. The smell of hamburger meat on her vag made me high tail it out of there!