Thursday, March 27, 2014


Fire shows more excitement than the people

There is an exchange of order between stacked paper
Stapler gives her goodbye kiss
Always leaving her marks—they clench and puncture

There is a gag from Marker, vomiting on white 8 by 11 sheets
They still push him past his limits—poor Marker

There is a shower of fingers masking keys that belong to Mac

The cupped sounds of music tracks coming from its rubber chamber

Water funnels through bottle necks
Thus Bubbles come to play…POP

Bubbles sing gurgled symphonies

Pages hold swinging hard covers back

“never seen a successful fight here”

Wednesday, March 26, 2014


Green Blades playing Wind like piano keys

There are hand games between the Dirt and Glass shards

Smothered laughter bows to Distance

Scrapes in Gravel’s back
Shovel and he are no long friends

There is the Stream playing hide and go seek with the Pebbles
Stream always seems to win

Palms are hammock by grass
They rest while Fingers pillow soil

Lung ingest Wind's gusting breaths
While Heart’s pace is swift with excitement


Silence is playing cards
His bluffing face—flawless

Mouths mute
Minded thoughts go putter putter…

Eyes making out with Words
Pens have intercourse with Paper

They scratch each other
Such violence

Chairs crack and pop
Screech here and there—sounds of their hard work

Carpet brushed by their legs
Like pillars they reject hugs from this infinite fiber being

Bodies arose
Arms and Sleeves dance

Sole’s soft pecks to concrete cheeks

Stairs beating rhythmic evacuations.
Slide Slide Slipper Slide 

This piece was with me and Rio.  We sat inside a circle made by the audience.  Their backs were turned towards us.  We started the game with four slides of the hand and every time we messed up we started over.

What I enjoyed about the piece was how Rio and I progressed throughout the duration of the piece.  I would mess up and we kept going but the more we preformed the further we would get—the more stable the rhythm would get.  The rhythm of the hand games was really interesting for me.  I feel like there was more texture in the beginning with due to the sprinkles of laughter.

A few things that could have change would be our volume (LOUDER).  Standing up and moving around the circle would have been pretty cool too.  Maybe, another way to enhance the project would be for multiple people to do different hand games.

Hmmm.  Instead of in a dim lit room, what if the room was completely dark(?).

Sunday, March 23, 2014

About Me (As an Artist)

What makes me an artist?  I have no clue.  An example would be my thought process of exciting. I feel that all we are are little speckles of a larger entity and the characteristics that make us individual are the different situations our live produce.  Yeah, I really don’t know why art is Art but the more I explore, and get in to the subject, the more I learn about different perspectives.  This, in turns, makes me an artist and anyone else who is willing to do so.  As someone who is willing to learn and test themselves to see in different perspectivesbrings up a lot of challenges and tests, that further pushes ones art.

But enough of the deep stuff.  Ummm.  Art is fun and I like doing it a lot.  I enjoy cartooning and doodling.  I enjoy written art as well, like poetry and novel writing, especially  fiction writing.  I also indulge in a little performance art like Spoken Word and Storytelling.  I like cake too.  It takes guts to call yourself an artist, let’s hope I have them or as much as Art calls for.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Speak Poet

I did my first performance piece.  I was really nervous but as I kept focus I was able to implant myself in the setting and movement of my piece.  The piece consisted of me walking in to the setting removing my backpack and coat.  I sat on a stool that was in the back row and second form the left.  My actions were leaning forward, snapping, and a hand full of shouted phrases.  These phrases where “Speak poet” “Mmmm” “Come on” “Listen to the poem” “You got this” and finger snaps placed throughout the piece.  I ended with congratulating the poet with stating “Golden Unicorn for you”, standing, applauding for them, putting on my coat/back pack, and leaving the room.

I sat in the audience which injected my presence and immerse the audience.  I think this adds a nice touch of the “inyourfaceexperience” that I enjoy in art—whether it’s in a concept, an image, or the puncture of personal space that “inyourfaceexperience” really captivates the audience.

I wonder what it would be like if there was someone performing the piece in front of the audience while I was responding to them(?).

Tuesday, March 18, 2014


Here's to the first day.  Just the word first brings a lot of thought.  This word pools a mixture of emotions, triggers, and triumphs.  It is really interesting to see that cesspool come to shape.

First, like there is for everything.  Then comes second and thirdafter that its habit.  How do we break that?  Breaking that first—that is destined to become a habit.

Drain the cesspool.