Thursday, June 2, 2011

S.B.T. 306



there was this scene: where the gentlewoman with her homecoiffed style ish shtick

sits on the rattan chair, her neat black rectangle briefcase of a purse on her lap

and she takes off her gloves, saying "I came to tell you something."


he was on a wooden chair behind the glass. he was leaning forward on his elbows and his face flat down over crossed elbows on the ledge of the booth. he looked strained and cautious.


somehow she got it that he wished he hadnt done the thing that put him behind that glass wearing fluorescent orange overalls and white canvas slip-ons. but she didnt know if anyone knew or cared how he felt. he was rolling his eyes 'oh shit more damn torture, ok ok ok what does this character want for christsakes, this little church lady with her purse and gloves and whats that, a wig? jeezus - touched or something...'


"i want to tell you," her voice as soft as hummingbird wings, "to tell you..."

he looked up at her, his eyes pulling at the gestures she made, he was all about body language

"yeh, ok, what,," he said, in a low voice.

he was beyond the ordinary education in his degree of expecting the worst from others and getting it


but with her, he was bracing for the beating, he was ready, willing to hang his head as low as it could go and stay attached to his neck and he was expecting black-and-blue welts from her rant, her rant about what he did, about what it did to her, to her family

about what a piece of shit he is, what a pathetic fool who threw away...


"well...i know what my son would have wanted because he was a ghandian disciple"


he said "that some kind of brotherhud?"


"you don't know gandhi?" she asked, incredulous, "he believed in nonviolence and compassion. there is a movie about him. do you have movies here?"


"yeh we have movies. gandy, heh ya, i heard of him"


"if anyone has a video player here, i can send you the movie."


"we have cassettes but no dvds"


he was wondering where this was leading but always looked forward to any diversion, still he sensed something that drew him in to her. she was motherly toward him, and he was curious about that about how it somehow felt 'good'.

and she just laid this gandhi thing on him, and it was cool, like a tall glass of water.


"but there was something i wanted to tell you," she said finally.


'ok', he thought, 'here it comes...'

"ok what" he said clenching knuckles


"i wanted you to know.........i forgive you for what happened....i know you did not mean for it to happen the way it did. the lord and my son would want forgiveness

for you. i mean it sincerely. i want to help. i think we can help eachother. "


he looked at her. then he put his head in his hands, covering his eyes and said "serious"


"yes serious" she said


and he sat back and he looked at her and he said "why"


and she said "because i care about you"


"why"


"because you and my son had intertwining fates, and you are suffering and god doesnt let that happen for no reason"


in earnest, mrs he whispered, put his head down on his lap and cried.



Sunday, May 29, 2011

S.B.T. 305




stand-up information



jack's going under the limbo pole set at t2enty inches!

with a margarita balanced on his forehead,

he's down with it, we giggle as it teeters


clicks coagulate universes of a thousand planets

has anyone ever finished counting particles?

even with uniform and official salute, nobody wants that job


do you know of any method that is good to get the goo out?

i hear they are hiring an international staff of specialists

proposing damage control first and later to wing it


"who do you think you are" is not a question

lets be clear on that first. is "i know you" enough

to bear redictum toward peace and gladness?


multiplying in microcosms to begin with

but interdependence is substantiated isnt it

will the saddhus stop climbing and come on down?


letters get lost, i heard of one that arrived forty years later

and yet it arrived at the correct address

from someone who'd gone missing


rediculum confetti twirls over the memorial parade

in so many saucy colors picking up lightickering as

the music in the background lifts the window and floats inside



Wednesday, May 11, 2011

S.B.T. 304

nonetheless it took me back in spite of graceful lladro figurines, red letters, blue stars and wired flowers to a class early on, in my spare time outside of class and asignments i enjoyed spending hours getting away from it all making "decorative" pieces, things that i would give away for gifties. things like painted bottles, wind chime seashells, all inticate handcrafted items. i was proud of these little ceramic characters i'd made for myself and would take them with me and set them up like mascots in that class (18 times a week) scale size about 3/4", maybe as big as the tip of your thumb. neatly fit on the paintshelf attached below the easel. cant find the others but each had a different color and face, tho they all had the same flat black shoes. the prof one day told me they were scary. to each his own i thought. it dawned on me i had not intended them to be scary. so, do we need my head examined, or yours, i wondered but it isnt the most important thing i need to know, lets get on with it


blue man with blonde accents________________


blue woman with blonde accents

he strolled around the class and spoke intently to each student several times,
trying to teach us to "See" as he always said, "with a capital S" semicircling a pile of rusty old brokendown things, we were sizing up the possibilities of torn brown bags, plumbing pipe and oil drums and old bicycle parts, a dented car fender, nothing that could be pretty. never a bouquet of flowers, or a bowl of fruit even in honor of somebody like cezanne, no. or anything that had direct identifiability, or reactive connection in the psychological sense, no sensory overload, only seemingly monochromatic piles of junk).

"its easy to see color if its saturated," he said,"but i want you to see the color that is here, i mean really see it" (pointing to the heap on the dais in the middle of the studio) "those greys and rusts and dirt and brown are full of color, i want you to see it."

a primary course no primary colors. i should mention this was before we were invited to even think about life-drawing , not ready for the nudes, no sirreee, not equipped for figurative interruption interpretation or interest. like white-belts in karate not ready to be video-ed for the website, or in the arena for a showdown practicing forms. so upon close observation and exhaustively retrained disengagement from preconceived knowledge of what any particular item "is", the 'truth' emerged. in this case shades of blue, purples and gold and green and related subjects that were actually there, camouflaged somehow ordinarily, hinted at in nuances of light and shadow, hidden, if you will.

so i was saying "all right bring it on, bring on the piles of junk," very happy about it. it was a passage characterized by the quest for color and so in time he began inserting various colorful elements into the piles of stuff, like a beachball, a tiger lily, a bright umbrella, and asked us to see how they effected (or spread thru, as i saw it) the other surrounding areas. so at this point lights are blinking in broad daylight on broadway a gigantic spaceship overhead and angelic choirs sing hallelujah lalala .

the story of a waking, when likely it would count as a valuable lesson however, reviewing the map at the crossroads now i look around ready to forget the trash still life experience. i mean the rules are changed, kind of. the inside of the inside of the envelope that holds all vision turns inside out and opens on panoramically continuous tides whose waves arc whooshing forward. i'm grateful for that lesson, dont misunderstand. it is embedded, could be a decal, i will have to call it the invisible transparent cast. in the cast of a hue sense. question is, shall i have it removed or remodeled? i wonder what happens if i forgot about it.


2=1 profile

Saturday, May 7, 2011

S.B.T. 303


for my video poet friends, a fun opportunity and a chance to be seen by the "great one"
click here
do it!

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

S.B.T. 302



"in blue"



lean stripes falling in

scribed shifting notation




point nodding

to the

memorized streets



Saturday, April 23, 2011

S.B.T. 301




seeing





whatever answer will there be

in a language that has no words

a carpet of light

your childhood eyes

luminous in the moment





Wednesday, April 13, 2011

S.B.T. 300


this is SBT's 300th post, and it seems fitting to take up gabrielle's challenge to reveal 7 things about myself here.
it makes me nervous ha ha but here are seven things some probably dont know:

1. i co-operate a shelter for 57 feral cats and their shelter is now in a space, a remodeled garage, on my property, as of last january. they are fascinating fur-people, and yes, its a lot of work too but if you could see their faces...oh thats right, you can:


2. my first job was selling donuts and coffee, i was 14. part of my job was filling jelly donuts and i was very much like lucy at the chocolate factory. i probably ate at least 25% of them but what do you want from a teenager at 5 a.m. alone in the back of the bakery with a giant jelly express machine and endless shelves of puffy donut pillows waiting to be dusted with powdered sugar

3. i was an honor student, but i hated high school so much i boycotted my graduation and opted to receive my diploma by mail, while opting yes for the parties afterwards

4. jack kerouac lived down the street from my uncle in the mid sixties (google kerouac bristol avenue) and was his drinking buddy at the back of the butcher shop many a night but alas i was too young to remember, but i do remember the back room of the butcher shop and, the smell of grilled meats, tobacco and whiskey

5. dance performances always make me cry and captain beefheart was probably my greatest musical revelation

6. i play the piano, the violin and the guitar, but went into visual arts and have spent decades there

7. i studied electronic music back when the synthesizers were analogue, in art school, as training for film sound

lots of points about sound, i know, but it's because i have been working a lot these days with music comps.

here is my latest, it is still a w.i.p., but i put it up anyway, and it will be updated until complete.
ok so thats 8 things, sending it off now, zap, into the infinite