Wednesday, November 28, 2012

a world

in perfect stillness

and we afire

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Popi done gone

Popi done gone
and where he is
I cannot say.

He gone in dat big bird and fly away.

But in my heart
and mind
I know 

he back again some day.

Unless I go to Dekalb,
then maybe not.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Lo Fi

Blackberry Pic
Sunset from inside the Windsor

Saturday, November 24, 2012


Holga 135N

When popi come to town

When popi come to town
we gonna do that thing.

When popi come to town
clap, stomp and sing.

We gonna smoke dem cigarettes,
and ponder,

and tru dem city streets
the two of us will wander.

The sun will set
but you can bet

the time will not be squander'd

When popi come
when popi come
when popi come...

Outside Lola's

Thursday, November 22, 2012


Listening to AWOLNation's Sail as I write.

What to say?

As with many things I read/hear/see there is a period of absorbtion where I take it in, breathe it in, live it - so it's hard to discern, sometimes between the point where the song ends and I begin, dig?*

But the feeling of this song resonates with a certain triumphance**maybe? Or not. But there is a certain... dignity, a resilience; a song that says here I am, even in my dysfunction, and I make no apologies.

But this isn't about that. It's about being thankful.

And yeah, a part of me wants to reject, out of hand, the convention of this day.

But for each moment of this life - all the beauty, all the pain - and to inhabit those moments, sitting amidst the whirling dervish of life, in it's calm center, coming and going at the same time.

Am I thankful?

Yeah, I think you could say that. And then some.

But like a child at Thanksgiving dinner, all I can say is, "more please!"

*Undoubtedly the reason I got into acting. And also why I got out.
**Not a word? Sure it is. At least now it is.

Monday, November 19, 2012

I can hear it again,
my ear pressed to the ground,
a low murmur like water flowing,


Dreamt last night I had super powers in a rustic village of people with same.

We were attacked by blurred creatures in the main hall and some of us flew away to tree tops at the edge of the clearing.

Hundreds of feet up, I noticed hatchet marks left from when we were kids and the trees, saplings.

Now old and dying, the trees had been infiltrated with glowing pink worms, and dry rot had set in.

The worms multiplied even as I watched - writhing and pulsing, fascinating and repulsing - and I edged away until there was no more room.

Then pushed off.

Monday, November 12, 2012


Coffee at Lola's with Dee-Wayne Brammage and the sideways slantin' sun.

What's new says I?

Nuttin' say he.

And the beat goes on.

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

Trombetta Sutra-let

The view from my window, while somewhat industrial, is not without charm.

Witness the Trombetta Brothers* warehouse, in all its early morning glory.

Reminds me of Ginsberg's Sunflower Sutra, where beauty is percieved, even amidst the soot, asphalt and broken glass. 

*Roll that one around in your mouth - Trombetta Brothers - and ponder what might've been.

Saturday, November 03, 2012

Night and Day

Went to sleep last night with the windows open.

Woke up this a.m. to concrete floors cool against my bare feet and hot black coffee, all the more appropriate.

Saw Vampire's Tale last night, and while I was an inarticulate boob in the meet and greet afterward (you guy's rocked! I boomed all monster truck rally) I was impressed and, frankly, moved.

And while the 1st half was solid, the 2nd half... did in fact rock - with aerial acrobatics, back flips and other beautiful liquid contortions - all within the framework of insidious seduction - an innocent "randomly" plucked from the crowd, beguiled, toyed with, and ultimately turned.

But the high point took place just before the "turning." A growing tension between queen and king (himself somewhat seduced by the innocent) finally erupts in a lover's... (what to call it? Battle, break up... reckoning perhaps) in which the king is finally brought to heel and the innocent is sacrificed.

The pathos in the scene, ranging from pathetic appeal to vindictive rage - all evoked through soundless movement and expression - was pretty f*cking amazing.

And now I'm off to sell me some toilets.

Happy Friday, everyone.