Digging Towards The Root.

Click to read:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/ihatewetsocks/3232579825/sizes/o/

I love to write. It sets me free from what flows through my pen, if that is my intention. In other instances, the writing is so very well a piece of me, that I cannot stop looking at it. The feeling that flows through me when I pick it up a short while, forgotten but not lost, is indescribable. 

Last night, my car was destroyed. It was sometime around 2:30 am and I was editing a film on my computer when I should have been sleeping. The window was open and all I could feel was the cool wind. And then that cool wind brought in the sound of a shock system of oh, say, a Volvo S60, casing the small dip of the grass. 

After a short explosion of metal crunching and dust glass shattering, I was just getting outside. I called out Anthony and Sean. Sam was there too, unexpectedly. We all go outside to see what had happened. 

My car had been hit from the passenger side. The door was unable to be opened. The trunk was inside itself. There is no better way than saying that. Sams car was screwed too. A For Sale sign laid PERFECTLY upside her car. Of course I shot it. I tried talking cameras to the csi photographer. 

I said, "Oh Canon, huh? I have a 1D!" ................ "Okay nice talking to you!" 

haha, she was in the zone. 

My cat was in and around all three cars while the csi photog was shooting the scene. it was hilarious. i got several shots of that. the kid was drunk as all hell too. it was quite a scene. everyone was okay though even the dumbass. 

More to come. 

everything is connected.

this belief that everything is interconnected and woven together has been in my thoughts for a long time. i love finding things out and then finding literature and people that support it.

http://www.thelovinggod.com/2007/09/holographic-paradigm.html

so good. 

wonder.

wonder. 

you wonder if they are thinking the same thing. 
and you hope that they are. you really do.
everyone has done this. you will forget about this feeling
and then it will come rushing back to you as if it never had left.

it takes you over with such an
old smile. you tell everyone
about what is going on
and you know when you repeat a story to a friend

it definitely means something. 

things are too easy to remember. 
certain phrases cannot leave your memory
and reminders are left everywhere on post its in 
conversation, sticking right out. 

trying to hold in the explosions 
when something is too perfect
when the simplest hues in the sky
form the most breathtaking formation reflected 
onto your eye. 

there is one instance that captures my heart
the freeze frame of a night
the one that gets stopped with the rolling credits of the best 
movie you had ever seen before.

life.

day dreams of a daydream.

the shadows paint the walls
dancing at the pace of the 
wind, contouring to everything she reaches
in her breath. 
 
the wall stares back at me
blankly, but with more meaning
than if he were plastered with grafitti
it may be that he's needy, his bare white layer
reaching out for color. 
 
imagined through a window, 
out of boredom
out of love
out of wonder
out of people to stare at. 
 
the paint bucket wasn't that heavy. it actually was just awkward, much like the spelling of awkward. 
it had dried leftovers from a previous endeavor all which had run down the side, solidified and quiet.
dipping a hand in the paint feels too good. getting messy like a child, you feel young again and free. 
SPLATT, and drip. SPLATTT and drip. SPLATT and drip. 
two hands now.
WHOOSH as it flies through the air, intertwining colors as it cuts through her squalls, making its way eventually to this formerly
plain white wall. 
 
"Okay so page 21. Financial aid. say if i have a high EFC, everyone page 21. if you have a high EFC, you could get a loan"... and I come back. 
 

something new yet constant.

unending open vast space. more than you could ever imagine to be. it is still who you are. this is who you are.

welcome to being. 


a slow wind cools the man high up in the warm room
a man warm because of the love deeply rooted within him
it is him that this warmth is
you can see now, you can see now

a grounding sensation makes me want to fly 
the vultures are up above waiting for something to die
we will not harm those who prey on only death
only as we see all and respect

a different language a different look
all so new and beautiful 
fall in love with everyone
one at a a time

i can feel you all in the wind
some in the sun 
shine forth those whose time it is to shine
some are in the dark asking 
is this mine, oh, is this mine

ill admire the rain and storms and
the smallest things in between
droplets of almost frozen rain
remind me of you and you and even
you 

a certain song brings it back
a certain feeling rises up my neck 
i reach for what used to lay next to me, comfortably.
gone. but i am not sad, i am still breathing. and if within my breath
you are there, come out and let's dance. 

dance. 

this was two days in orlando.

talk of all kinds. the usage and experience. the stories that go with. life was this weekend. life is right now. life is played to music and that is love. 

park avenue records discussion about 150,000 DOLLAR record players. blue jimi and cigarettes on the wall thanks to rafael. weird creep fucks checking out indie girls who let indie get to their heads, which of course defy's the purpose, but what else is new. burrito disaster next door, before, and the polaroid experience featuring none other than troy "T.A.B.A." ansley himself. "Excuse me sir! what kind of camera is that?" 

Crunk Cookin (for those of you who don't know (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwcOERnIbNY) the sequel featuring fog machines, J-Diddy and smoke detectors and fried okra death. mini guitar jams all around... 

Kiss me. Swing swing. haha. from the balcony to the half dressed ladies at the pool. ah, the memories. so beautiful. 

troy and i constantly freaking out karen with our gayness. so good. so us. broken social scene presents kevin drew: Spirit If!, Thurston Moore, Echo and the Bunnymen, and the new Sigur Ros album... all on vinyl. 

the painting exchange for my shittily blown up version (I owe you Diana, i really do. it's so beautiful.) 

Tiara. this is across the universe. "what exactly is this?" talk of nothing much, but nonetheless, it was good to see you. keep in touch friend. 

Steak showing us footage of the best skateboarders ever. Troy showing us footage of the scariest news ever, as usual. the idea of making a documentary in which, according to TABA, we are not to eat, drink, or do anything, because you might die and the government is trying to kill us through any action we commit... coming to a youtube channel near you. 

talk of lies, and the truths behind them. the setting free. we know and we will figure this out. or maybe not. the mystery excites. 

the energy exchange. the colors. The most vibrant RED, father feelings through my hands, the tube and almost travel through the layers of texture, the emerald green, the FEELING THE KNOWING FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK... the smooth sound of falling water into a nearby pool, the ever so faint gusts of wind, perfectly molding to contour our bodies. the chair up on the stairs. the reaffirming thank you's. the chakras balanced and refreshed, the lightness, the floating feeling. hunger disappears, only to return with a vengeance. 

breakfast. hot sauce for you jamie. the songbird for the boy. the lifter of heavy burdens with an angelic voice. "thunder only happens when it's rainin" and babe, i'm gonna leave you. goodbye. 

the revival of curb skating. no i can't get the mail with you dorsa, i owe them a year of rent. i went anyway. sketchy. dorsa fainted. dorsa looks like lionel richie, but of course can pull it off with an undeniable sexy steez... 

troy and karen wear the same clothes. karen models. troy hates on the white one. karen has a macbook air tight weighs as much as a penny marketing bullshit probably cost 10 bucks to make, imac. troy hates on mac, lawrence feels disgraced. :) 

what are we going to do. i don't know, what do you want to do. i don't know, what can we do. troy what can we do. troy troy troy you know what to do. come on troy. please troy show us a cool place troy. come on troy. 

hummus palace. hummus kingdom come, thy will be done. on earth as it is in heaven. kristi got no falaffel. Kristi, why didn't you get any? Kristi, what did you get? kristi, your food is not as good as ours. these are not exact. cheese and hummus fried amazing shit thank you troy. "Let's get FUCKED UP!" we get up in unision. 

old ropeswing. fuck redneck fucks who burnt it down and made it a haven for budweiser cases and ripped t-shirts. you killed something beautiful, and what is around is what you are, so don't be surprised. we walk through and explore. troy leads the way. kristine, a photo of your feet with these beautiful leaves, please? yes. okay. onward! we find car parts. we find a house. we find heart shaped objects with seeds inside. ill hold your hand to let you over this log. yes i will. karen, a photo of you by the fire? 

steak entertains the skaters. jon entertains the masses. i entertain the hungry. lawrence entertains the dreamers. dorsa entertains the hairless. troy entertains the thirsty. karen entertains the beautiful. jamie entertains the listeners. kristine entertains the eyes. kristi entertains the backseat of my altima, alone and with her pillow that she forgot in karens car, last minute, while lawrence and i discuss the dreamscape, reality, and good music. sleep on sister friend, sleep on. 

drop off kristi. the real shit comes on through. there are those who don't have to speak to me because we both already know but we try to convey those feelings anyway because they resonate so deeply within us that it is hard to keep them quiet. and quiet is not us. not now.

REconsider.

At 5:00 P.M. EST, Lawrence Smith and myself, started a project. "You are loved." was sent to the first few people in our phonebooks of our cellphones. "This will cheer up their fridays." If a response comes in like "who is this?" we send "it's not about who it is it's about the message."

This is the first experiement of many. A magazine will be in the works soon too. It will be called Reconsider: A Creative Revolution Magazine. 

I have to go to work. My phone won't stop. 

Spread it. 

Lawrence, Jamie and I rode bikes down to the beach today. I found a sharks tooth. Justin Lee sent me this link.

http://www.experiencefestival.com/a/Spiritual_Awakening/id/1936

other good things happening.