in the morning the pelicans fly overhead as we silently row our boats
during the day the bufflehead ducks discuss philosophy
on Wednesday night we all fly to the local laundromat
wash our clothes, recite poetry, sing songs, tell tails
this week we recited poems by bohemianbadfish (‘im collecting the sections…’, ‘i like to take apples…’)
unabridgedone (‘i breathe like a bubble…’)
and more by zak, jaya, amanda, tyrone, jeffe, and katies magical eye in the magical flower
then we all flew home and dreamed
original style
you can fake style with technique - but the strongest style is original style
to be original you just have to hear your own voice, because it is unique.
at that point ‘technique’ can be a trap, because you take something original and vivid, and squish it squirming into a box given to you by someone claiming to be an expert.
anyone who relies on technique instead of their own authentic voice - will be threatened by originality, simplicity, or any kind of natural artistic process that they denigrate as ‘primitive’ arts (and will often be crabby/bitter about life in general).
of course the ‘flavor’ of your writing will be influenced by your world; family, friends, teachers, and yes authors, music, movies, culture, etc. but when you find your authentic voice, then you will always have something to say.
comparing artists and their style is useful to a point, but is completely separate from a felt artistic experience. the analysis of a song is completely different from experiencing it. the danger with too much analysis is that you can identify the notes correctly but you can’t hear the music.
a note to those sharing the dream
note to those sharing the dream
feelings just across our screen
words illumined of themselves
bright futures dusk twilight
mix mash yep god dess eye down
thought catchers playful on winds
compassion is seeping in
pray protection from acquiredz
for our love, for us
name checked, don’t let me throw ya
buttoneer, darjeeling tea leaves smell
good in hot water cream
am no ever alone
man stares wondering woman
pen rides paper snowboarding
oh corso tongue oh love to thee alive
stumbles in, knee pings
beauty purple reminding
paper pad occupying disheveled bed
offered clouds blonde instead
ok not saying anything, grin
cold we gotta groove
Vase Nature
time travelers who forgot where they from
suddenly i recall where i dwell
nature rewards those with reverence
for the way every move is a dance
door opens, man with brown suit
tacky halloween ink stains finally
conversational cover symbol attractor
hello delicate, hello detail, hello
remembrance. pizza. will they win?
they walk with umbrella & open the door
man with bag on his shoulder, black and
white attire, opens door one handed
profile of soul through window
water breaking view unfolding air
swimming water other just above
vast vase nature receptive offers
choices to those who can, listen
man with white work jacket walks outside
when being pulled on prepare to push
off those who try to show, respect as
forceful remonstration
the rain remembers
how october became september
time traveling heroic observers
Advice you didn’t ask for
so i’ve been spending time writing by hand in my notebook
which hasn’t left much time for blog writing
but to tell you true
even though others will try and pull you back
keep going forward
they will threaten you, try to make you feel guilty, probe poke and plunder
keep going forward
stroll if you can, crawl if you must
and if crawling - laugh at the absurdity
take some comfort in being closer to the earth
closer to where roots grow
they will call you, try to trick you, try to remind you
of something they tried to create in you
keep going forward
your heart is good
it is good precisely because you feel
and in that feeling you know something that is deeper and clearer
then all the screaming lies that try to bury themselves in you
keep going forward
even when you are slipping back
or in despair or hopeless or numb
all of these, small lessons in a lifetime
on da train
wheeee - i’m getting out o here!
what did we learn class?
we learned that besides the rain, its effin cloudy yo. and the clouds start to drizzle, and then - yeah its oppressive.
First Impressions of Portland
dear whoooo,
its early evening, saturday night may 22, still light out
im in a cafe in portland, in the NE “alberta arts” district of portland
when i got here there was no one here. about ten minutes later these guys with instruments straggle in. they start playing. a few minutes after that a cloud of girls comes in, and they are now dancing and prancing to the music - which is classic american 20s 30s down home music - not cheesy or forced. the singer has an incredible sincere voice.
first impressions of portland:
Love Leap
good news making me sick
heart opens to heart ache
some girls that i respect but dont love
some girls that i am not sure if i respect but completely love
believing in a fever dream and then realizing the fever will go down
sex too fast is such a mistake, but also answers questions quickly
not sure where what why
tired of being nice and soon will not need to
another broken heart and no one will care
give give give so that someone else will share
small still voice says to be patient
feel the pain
feel the pain
feel the pain
Songs
Journal
by impressari0
not in any kind of order. tip your busker, tip your server, tip your hat.
thanks to Floating Arts Club for the tidal row. Subscribe via RSS.