Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Some Poems:

Grandma Gave Me a Slice of Hot Banana Pepper

Learning, or trying
to read her twinkle
of mischief
as a soft crisp
yellow slice
of hot pepper
like a treat
cool and hot
at once on the tongue
confusion for me
tears of laughter for her

Dull Hammers

Her words dull hammers
of an unhappy life
Unhappy childhood
of hateful parents
with broken spirits
the dull hammer
with which she writes
her one note poetry
over and over and over


Once in a dream I heard
through the fog of waking
people in another room
speaking English
but it was not my tongue
and meant nothing
to me
the pleasant chatter
of friends discussing
without meaning


 My childhood bicycle
was buried all but a piece
of one wheel
in the red clay dirt
full of round red gravel
in the vanished pine woods
near the house
where I did not have
a bicycle

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Bloody Mary Recipe - From Scratch

In a tall, straight sided pint glass
fill loosely with ice
add 8-12 shakes or grinds of salt and pepper (to taste)
12+ splashes of Worcestershire sauce
10-ish splashes of Tabasco sauce
as much hot horseradish as you can stand (for newbies I put about a half a teaspoon)
two each lemon and lime wedges, squeezed (optional)
pour 2oz of vodka over the ice to begin breaking up the ingredients
[at this point you can make it a Bloody Caesar by adding
a couple of ounces of clam juice or substituting Clamato for of the tomato juice)]
[or you can have a Bloody Bullfight by adding a couple of ounces of beef broth]
top with the best tomato juice you can find
roll drink into larger glass or shaker and roll back and forth a couple of times
garnish with pickled crunchy object of your choice like green beans, carrots (my favorite), olives, garlic, peppers, shallots, cauliflower, olives with almonds or garlic... if these are pickled hot, all the better!
Serve with a straw and a big stack of napkins for swiping the forehead.
Rinse and repeat.
Is a fantastic pick me up virgin as well.

Friday, July 1, 2011

The Poor Little Personal Art Blog That Could

I feel like a bad parent for leaving the blog barren for so long. Rest assured art has been happening, but apparently it is art of the slowly evolving sort right now. There is a new song in the works that is stuck jittering against a touch of writer's block over the lyrics. You can download the music so far. There are hints that at least one new live project is in the works. Some Kind of Bat Car is in the middle of a massive convulsion in preparation for the 10th annual Kentucky Artcar Weekend in early August (4-6). I have been taking pictures and here are a few of my favorites since my last post and some extra. Talk to you sooner!






Friday, February 4, 2011

RPM 2011

So for the next month I'm going to be recording music most of the time.  This will make my sixth RPM Challenge album in five years (I produced two albums in 2009).  Here is the RPM Challenge mp3 player.  I will do my best to update this thing as I move along. Sorry about the auto play feature. I'm trying to find how to defeat that. If worse comes to worse I'll just delete this post.

IFPR's player:

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Some Music

1-Lyre of the Wasteland


3-The Secret of the Serpent Fish


A Dream

Swimming in a large pool overlooking the ocean.  Can see out to the horizon where a blimp sets down into the water among many white ships.  Pool is very white with a large apron.  Far back there are monks self-immolating, kneeling nose to ground before lighting.  For some reason I and one of the two friends that are also swimming decide to join the monks.  When we tell a monk this he is not surprised and leads us to an indoor pool.  While in there some kind of bubble swarm begins to move around us in the water making the burning more and more attractive.  Suddenly a grey-ish translucent thing shaped like a stingray though more rounded begins pushing me from below, waking me from what feels like a trance.  The pool barely has a rim and there are windows that come all the way down.  I drag my companion, who is in a froth of bubbles, to a window which I pull out of the frame.  The monks just observe this without reaction.