What the World is Watching

What Did I Just Write?

2016-10-25T16:24:00.001-07:00

Venice #3: "Refracted Background"

It goes where?

It stares

glares

near

far, it steers

the stars

clear of bars

or stripes

my gripes

take flight

crash the night

Hello, ween me off this dream, it's so fresh, so not clean, until it's not, til it stops, get a grip, take a trip, flip the script, toss right in sight of the director's face, the time, the place, disgrace.

I wasn't even supposed to be here today.

algorhthmic introduction

labotomental abduction

advertisarial corruption

psycohomeopathic suction

try bifocal reflection

age past me bi

sing you learn

wreck collect

I am supposed to...you know.

Predisposed to...you know.

Forced by un scene powers that be...or not to be.

That is the query.

Very un-necessary.

Rough

Surprised Your Eyes Caught All That

2016-08-12T00:25:00.000-07:00

Before I left DC, I showed my paintings with my mentor Ryan Martinez at Art All Night in U Street/Shaw area.

The touch of our lips

Shakes my hips

Quiver, shiver, not cold

Never ever gets old

The caress seeking anticipation

Convincing sync living elation

What's to come at the very least?

The moment governs your neck my feast

Close, pull away, it's such a tease

the way you flee, the way you greet

the way you say what you really mean

so rare, so virtuous, circuitous

the trends I send, signals, no end

Apparently, voluminous

the words, non-verbal, swords

glide beside my mind

I make it all up

Could you really be into me?

Could it be true? You?

Impossible.

I only know this moment.

I only know now.

I only know how someone right in front of me sees something, feels free

We're the same. Our minds, our brains.

Rope close the moon, sheltered behind the clouds.

Living out loud is the key you see.

Marine layer dissipates into the ether this afternoon.

Neither you nor I know how my life so soon swings back into flow, together we grow.

Like a Dream I Remember...from an Easier Time

2016-08-06T12:34:00.001-07:00

Boardwalk Mural, Asbury Park, NJ

Dreaming of electric sheep

The time and place you seek

Using its music, discarding its screams

In but not of this world

You have a friend like me

Desire mixed with a fit form free

In the distance, an instant, it gleams

Another dimension, find the third sky

Narrow escape, no time for why?

Climb up the trap door

Mom n pop shop storefront

Blunt stop, gray album

Danger mice remix your wish

Taste making another dish

Curating, mixing, rewind, repeat

I pressed play....

...my audacious feat

sandy Warhol's ghost lives at the beach

Hang a left easy Breeze Street

Hold court in this avenue

Boulevard of broken seams

Art, music, skate culture vultures

Ride concrete to serve thrills

Bruised egos, no, take spills

Run your drills, go create

Son, the fearless proliferate

Only the strong survive

Everyone else, barely alive

Sleep walking, sheep talking

Zonal marking on the rise

Stay in your lane, stalking happiness

...or make every moment open, trust

...your heart to vibe or bust...

...biorhythms thrust, sync and sing.

Resistance rests, keep thinking, don't sleep

Nor ignore more electric sheep

Ride the Night's Vibe

2016-07-01T21:30:00.002-07:00

Take a slice out of curves
Just desserts deserve
Dusk stance
Looking
Seeking
Breathing
Ocean air flare
Fireside cool glare
Bait awaits
State your case
Met your mate
Take your stake
Go home
Another day
Mobile roam
To you I sway
Kiss the sky
Fly so high
I'm all alone
Now me and you
Swim close
It's true
The past year grew gray
Fast year, nothing to say
Everything at once
Tell me Anything
Sun drenched resent?
Strictly Hardly
What I - at first - meant
No bloom withers
The Solciste lives on
I'm just a pawn in the universe's plans for me as you can see I control my destiny to a point .

Rhythm's candle flickers
Snickers at what I call a hat
Nice fit, sit here for a while
let's talk as we $^^0!<& this J0!^!+
Smile, time passes without regret
Chill outside and ride the night's vibe
We just met
We've known
Since years past
Seeds sewn
Lift a glass
Sing for old fling, flying, sighing at goodbye, but not goodnight

I will be back when the lifeguards leave their chairs
As our star squeezes, expends the horizon's core
As I pledge my soul's affection
beyond fenced quarters with care
I will return, wave, meet me as I knock on your door

Writing Without Thinking

2016-06-25T23:05:00.001-07:00

You don't know what this is.

Neither do I.

Why focus on the unknown when you can be distracted by so many more things?

It's a travesty.

It's a circumference.

It's a hypotenuse.

So ridiculous.

So silly.

So stupid.

So.

So what?

Statement made.

If a statement is made, is there anything else to say?

Is there a point?

It flies out to the ether.

It floats.

It sinks.

Enumerates.

Iterates.

It swims.

It skates.

It knows how to fly.

It cowers in frustration.

It knows not expectations.

You...

Los Invasores...

El Raton...

Elipses...

Protecto el gato...

Los Perros.

No manera abbastanza

Que manufactura

Traigo no dime!!!

I try. Tell me!

Like me.

Find me.

Waiting.

Wanting.

Bulging through the night's clouds.

No mystery.

Sinister.

Minister.

Sweeping initiative.

Knowing the time is now.

Hay es en un candela.

La luz no esta aqui.

Adios a la luz.

Ciao amor.

Amor es el fuego.

Yo no lo se el verdad.

Solamente visage.

Eramos pensando.

Inspiration Clicks Elective

2016-04-10T19:40:00.001-07:00

Attention pours through, fight and final

Senses erect this section's hectic

Never settles, her tally scores crew

Bends effect, can't recollect it

Only more. Only more. Will do.

Shiny objects ride perspective

Mention trips trough the zoo to

Inspiration clicks elective

Unfurling spiral's tendencies fenced

Glimmer simmers from afar

Carrying no less than ten scars

Rearview clear view so sue me

I'm looking through me

Where did I go?

Attention pours through, twisted spinal

Senses erect blessed phrenetic

Always settles, her image sings it

Blends wrecks with sex expect it

Void of scorn. Don't you mourn. Will do.

My relief it's a life eclectic.

Ascension, crash, trips in the zoo to

Inspiration clicks elective

Murals viral tendencies fenced

Glimmer simmers from afar

Carrying no less than ten scars

Rearview clear view so screw me

You're looking through me.
What do I know?

Stretch and sugar, mystical draw

Senses erect test what you saw

Always mettles, her visage wings it

Apoplectic neglect sentiment upended

Damn I'm blessed. Never less. Will do.

My relief it's a life eclectic.

Assumptions stashed, my grips on you.

Inspiration clicks elective

Cure all high, against the fence

Glimmer simmers from afar

Carrying no less than ten scars

Rearview clear view so do me

We see the new me

This is all I know.

Ride of my life.

New Bostonian Groan

2015-07-21T16:57:00.002-07:00

Not finished

Sinister Grin

When did the menace begin?

Within sin

Bass space

Tiny tin

All of the above again

Knee skinned

Sex sells

Smells of sin

Frank discussion fun removed

Light repartee

Fly free

Behind me

Hedonistic filtered strain drain

Gutter stutter

Cream dreams

Cash Rules

Everything Around Me

Scant remission

Rhythm's death

Gutted blues

Dropped cropped clues

Kin sonic

Get rid of it

Nothing but shit

White greed impatient

Markets make it

Nothing considered

Miser mister

Nonexistent extent's finale

Rattle off the tally

Got To Give It Up-Blurred Lines

2015-06-27T13:18:00.001-07:00

I'm such a hypocrite. Still no less into it.

Too much in sync with it. Miss Ogeny, prodigy majestic.

Settled for less of it.

Little Diddy didn't do it? Bowie bows down to it.

Theft a part of every great artist.

Six months, dissappearance.

Reverence ends, begins with death.

My sentence? Another round of breaths.

Sighs, cleft of my chin.

Sunk deep between...you rise.

Words from the wise.

Crestfallen at the size of your lies.

Given the chance, I'd fly high too.

Forget who I am, you.

Only syncopated echoes ensue.

Rhythm given, selling black guru.

Repackaged, rearranged.

Ownership battle, deranged.

Every line known, sang.

Cortesia por favor to Gaye.

Sometimes the sun shines just right

2015-06-04T20:31:00.001-07:00

Sometimes the sun shines just right
Can't see reality too bright
Flirt with dark armies of night
Heart beats inside just trust light

Warmth From Afar (An Ode To Mom)

2015-05-09T11:44:00.002-07:00

With Mom & Pops at Wynwood Walls, Miami

Navigating the abyss, what I miss

Most, is a host, a line, a mother

Sometimes I complain

Stay in your lane

Smothered

Change, none from above

Always a smile, definition

Cluttered

Mind right(s), sight gained

All rearranged

Climbing

Thinking to the beginning

Original day of sinning

Reminding

Who was it that berthed you?

None so crucial, so many, so few

One, One that believes

In everything you might achieve

That knows your words and action don't align

That reads and refuses to neglect the signs

That cares as the blood pumps from the heart

That finishes the story before mine starts

That loves through pain, no need for gain

Every step forward explains a hug

Dares not resist care for this ugly mug

Too many words

2015-04-28T19:17:00.000-07:00

I fly through the rhythm of far away dreams

The truth sinks further, deeper than life, reality it seems

What are words if not a scourge, blurbs only digestible

Characters snuffed, stuff we can agree on, unbelievable

We both go together if one falls down

I talk out loud like you're still around

Coconut Grove, love the vibe, Takoma Park slide

Glide by what you know, in me, you can confide

I spread my wings and ride the wind sighing wide

Breathe my visions, incisions upon my hearts desire

I'm chasing a boat, bait, sailing round the world

Knowing I may have lost that beautiful girl

Waves that scream, I leap free, capsized and tossed

I may be totally, I wish I wasn't lost

Found ground beneath, finally speak aching corazon

moan and moan, jonesin for your glow, pleasure slow

Down, up, all love surrounds this town, the sky

breathes twice as loud, proud of life's lying fry

Touching a nerve, it's worth stepping back a bit

maybe you'll know if you're, again, too into it

Remember severed ties, wait awake, earthquakes

you make as you walk back into my life, for chrissake

Nothing more than a fancy swing back and forth

In the lead up to you, all points north

Take it to the roof, bay like a wolf, protons swim to stars

waves of sound crave for light, years, wait, I love you, Mars

Record Store Day

2015-04-02T16:37:00.004-07:00

Cubist Hendrix

The Rebirth of Vinyl

To the record stores, artists, labels, dj's, and journalists; we're all in this together. Show respect for the tangible music that you've dedicated your careers and lives to, and help it from becoming nothing more than disposable digital data.”

-Jack White

Record Store Day is more than just a marketing gimmick. It's more than just a ploy created by a fledgling music industry trying to claw it's way back into the digital age after Steve Jobs introduced the proverbial iceberg known as iTunes which capsized record labels' steady income producing cruise ships analogous to the titanic.

In this instance, it was convenience – not curiosity – that killed, or at least, maimed the cat.

However, with that added convenience for the consumer – which, among other trends, popularized downloading songs a la carte as opposed to purchasing full albums – came an acute atrophy of audio quality and the less noticeable, but all too important devolution of authenticity; authenticity which consumers of musical art began to crave in the form of the quality of acoustic sound and album artwork which artists take great pains to customize to their creative specifications and likenesses.

In the hit HBO series Silicon Valley the protagonist Richard Hendricks (played by Thomas Middleditch) creates a data compression algorithm which is supposed to transform media mobility and data delivery allowing consumers to send and receive files with a tremendous amount of ease and flexibility creating a bidding war among would-be investors in Palo Alto seeking a stake in the tech start-up.

The theme of rags – or perhaps, smarts dressed in rags – to riches is not uncommon in television today. Yet, one of the lessons that should garner greater attention is that the genius embodied in attributes such as greater compression and the increased mobility of a file's size does not always yield positive qualitative results when it comes to demand.

“I started my store a little over a year ago, and my dream has always been to own a record store...and I thought that time had passed,” said Rob Norton, owner of Hill & Dale records in Washington, DC, “but the last seven or eight years, the resurgence of vinyl has made my dream come true...It [is] the reason I was able to have a store in the first place.”

Over the last 20 years, vinyl records have increased sales in the range of approximately 2000%. It's completely unheard of that an antiquated technology would draw such appeal, and it's a direct result of consumers seeking not just authenticity, but a hybrid of authenticity and convenience which indicates the record labels have caught on to the paradigm shift in how music enthusiasts want to consume art.

“Last year, eight million vinyl records were sold in America,” said Eric Alper, Director of Media Relations, Licensing and Distribution for eOne Music, “and that was up 49% over [the previous] year, and it's a lot of younger people, especially indie rock fans. If you go through the top five records that were sold last year – Jack White's album (which sold close to 90,000 copies in North America) followed by The Arctic Monkeys, the Black Keys and Lana Del Rey and then Beck – it's probably the first time in a long time that Abbey Road by The Beatles hasn't been in the top five...and I think part of it is the fact that when you buy a new release on vinyl now - the record labels got smart – they started putting in the digital download code for you to be able to download the album to your mp3 player right away.”

It allowed consumers to take the tracks on the road – which consumers had become accustomed to – and play the increasingly important higher quality vinyl album on a record player at home without having to pay twice. That adjustment was the clever pivot of the music industry which saved its hide more or less.

In the case of music enthusiasts, something was missing.

“I still listen to music on really crappy speakers at work...I'm not really used to having greater quality sound,” Alper notes. “I think a lot of people are getting older so their ears aren't working so well, but when the number one source for a lot of people - and I mean 25-years old or younger – for finding new music is YouTube, listening on Logitech speakers that came with their computers or on their iPhones, that has an effect on people.”

“To the point about mp3's and compression, I know that my customers don't want to miss out on anything,” said Norton. “However, they also want the vinyl on their turntables at home to hear the music as it was intended to sound by the artists themselves...XX, a local up-and-coming indie band, is one of our top sellers. Daft Punk is one of our top sellers as well. [Random Access Memories] sounds beautiful on vinyl!”

While consumers are breathing life into vinyl as a format and legitimizing Record Store Day as an event, the artists have actually responded to this fervent demand from their fans.

“The new generation of bands – maybe in the last five or six years – who have grown up with vinyl which is very much an active format, they actually are starting to produce music that is made for vinyl again, and that's a really fun thought.”

Record Store Day is April 18^th. While music enthusiasts may face lines around the block for rare vinyl finds, at least aficionados are sure to also find jovial conversation and smiling faces that only a groundswell in community can produce.

Screen through Cubism Dreams

2015-03-18T17:45:00.002-07:00

She stayed as I relayed my fun, for no one, left needing light

Every time my eyes crossed past your sight

Dancing in the kitchen, Clyde, glide past our mission

wishing for home, alone, but never less than in love

You screen through cubism dreams

the most beautiful squares I've ever seen

I make you ill, I make you sick

Could you even imagine a kiss

I smoke, how differently

I spoke now differently

I did it for you

I did it for me

I'm just a copy

Never resurrected

always buried in my own mire

I require everything

I need anything

but only one am I truly missing

so much so, that I'm singing

Baying at the moon, like a loon

I twist notes, offending goats

They know. Who doesn't feel that gut wrenching yearn

stomach turning with guilt, milk spilt

I'm past crying over it. I'm not over it,

I regret making bets. I've since met my maker.

Any takers? None so foolish with wishes to time travel

life unravelled, only eating gravel would taste better than this

In a last second twist, the plot they all missed

Sunset boulevard charred my nightmares, scars

John Cusack's speakers raised high, replace the face

For every time I need you is a time I need space

Grace to take it slow, but then you'll never know

So I reach out in whispers, secret love I bury deep

If only hearts beat straight, then I keep the peace

In any case, convict me, arrest, police

I don't know any different, since then.

I'm just a copy

Never resurrected

always buried in my own mire

I require everything

I need anything

New Pornography

2014-11-11T16:54:00.001-08:00

I haven’t quit, dreaming.

I think in layers, unfurled

Reach the ceiling

Tired

Mind running through all the players in your world

It’s a kind of madness, love, I’d gladly wish on anyone

Breathing less necessary than the heart’s thump drum

Sumptuous payoff, stay off, get laid, off to another, no

I’m here, praying, up late thinking about you,

What book cooks up your attention,

interrupted by the one and only snoring moon

I stare at the orange clouds creeping between oaks,

Puff of smoke billows forming normal sized pillows where your head rests

Ah if only our dogs got along beyond the strong mountain test

If only any of this was real.

If only I could feel I’m not the only one out here naked and alone,

Dreaming. I haven’t quit.

Present Perfect: Run with Luck

2014-09-25T18:34:00.001-07:00

Lucky.

Plucky punk avoids the funk.

Never sunk below what people know as sanity, handily masked my flaws

Forever Indiana Jones’n, escaping danger, kissing strangers, closing casket’s jaws

Whisked away, some may say, by ghosts and spirits, fate of God

Why I’m still living, loving, she’s just a woman, stop, it gives me pause

I try to project what I got, giving, stealing this moment, regardless of laws

I would’ve gone crazy, you never cease to amaze me, toss the frost

Alive, right now, chase away the blues, reds, greens, nothing lost

Strive to stay intact, never lack, always in the black, lenses glossed

My luck runs, chase it through fun obstacles, up, down, no frown at what cost?

Soon as you stop to think, another drink, dance, romance, strands stretch, tossed

Move, repeat the feat, improve your seat or devolve, revolve, evolve, weak gloss

Almost a crime, but why waste your space, crash, wake, the grime washes off

Mendocino Sunrise

2014-05-18T08:06:00.000-07:00

Woke up to a buzz bounce splash

Rain soaked sill, acrylic color spill

Sweet sleep, reverie seeps beneath my mind

Brolly intact, I climb to the top of the hill

Crossing guard smiles, familiar nod g’day

Hello hazelnut perks of the job

Downpour dissipates, sun makes its way

Beauty lights the eyes of this ol sod

Stroll the garden, pick a ripe flower

Chill wind breathes life through the air

Today tries anew, stronger every hour

But despite my strife, I couldn’t hold a care

Dark of the Country

2014-04-15T08:28:00.001-07:00

Run to the dark of the country

Trees sway wave welcoming wind

Warm blaze, suns embrace

Melts away city’s slight, grime

Here, time disappears, crime fears

Quiet

Years last minutes, finish fright’s climb

Horse-blinders shut malevolent mind

Find a home waiting, no signs

The farm at our house

Growing hearts wane at the harvest

Nature’s grasp so simple, plain

Its here I know I will return

Like strangers in the wind

The call of the night burns

Flashing lights fight, rescind

Looking ahead, always, no way

What can one man say but what he saw?

Just where will I play today?

The end of thinking far

Sniffing the damp air’s breeze

It’s going to rain tonight

I can feel it in my old knees

Colors shift as cat tails drift, dogs bite

Herd my dreams into memory

The sights I see right in front of me

The land spreads, sprawls, draws my breath

It’s enough, suficiente, until my death

Laughter, love, yes it’s enough

Until I speak my last weak breath

One thing to which I can attest

Now, will do, for me, for us.

A Painting and a Poem

2014-03-04T09:33:00.001-08:00

I’m obsessed with words

They take shape, fly away like birds

Meet their fate, at every turn

Rescind their life with an editor’s knife

Cut strife with a positive twist

Oh how I’ve missed you since I failed to kiss you

How I’ve learned to deal with yearning

Burning passionate love buried not so deep

I sleep...never…

Naturally, My Dear

2014-02-23T16:14:00.002-08:00

I cry at the drop of a hat

Not because I’m sad

I just loved that hat

Or do I love you

But you don’t love me back

Or did I just paint

Myself into a corner

I feel like a saint

Addiction recovered

Lost n found, start over again

When will it end?

Never ever severed yearn

From that first foray

Until it belatedly burns

Anger creeps through dismay

To what? To peace…

Emotions in motion

Something you can’t teach

Ignoring commotion

Fade to a different time

Reggae rhythm relax sublime

Life is what you make it

Don’t force it or fake it,

Contemplate

Impact of you being you

Whitman's Leaves of Grass in Apple Commercial

2014-02-22T05:56:00.000-08:00

Normally, I'd be pissed by commercialism abusing art for its seedy purposes. In this case, I was reminded by Apple of the great quality of Whitman's Leaves of Grass so my favorite computer company gets a pass. Sure, I'm slightly biased. If the worst thing that happens is people buy more ipads and the best thing that happens is more people read Whitman, it feels more like a win-win than a gratuitous, vacuous attempt to ruin art by Madison Avenue.

The ad: http://business.time.com/2014/01/13/apples-latest-ad-is-probably-going-to-give-you-chills/

The verse: Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

166. O Me! O Life!

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;	5
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer. That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Automatic Pellegrini

2014-02-15T07:49:00.001-08:00

My first foray into oil painting produced this.

'Automatic Pellegrini' is a play on words as the Chilean soccer coach currently running Manchester City is actually named Manuel Pellegrini.

There's nothing automatic about winning. It takes a lot of work.

And this 60-year old shows the wear and tear on his face.

The original photo also appears to tell a multitude of stories, and that's why I chose it to base this painting off of that look. Hopefully I did the photo an ounce of justice.

Little Miss Communication

2014-02-08T22:40:00.000-08:00

Communication is so rare.

Especially for those who claim to know anything about it.

They are the least adept at taking the first step.

Look at these two guys.

No real conversation about their lives, philosophy, current events. Not even sports.

It doesn't have to be men in this picture. The point is that technology has a hold on our lives and to simply unplug for any amount of time has a value you'd only recognize if you did it.

The Sky is Orange Tonight

2014-02-06T07:10:00.002-08:00

The sky is orange tonight.
Looks haunted from my window
but not in a scary way....
OK there's more
Trees rip and roar
Through the skyline, they soar
Clouds pulse white light
Energy rhythm system
Blackbirds take flight
Give what their given
Scared at the thought
Give it all you got
Enough of this talk
Challenge the dead to dance
Swing their bones collapse
Never forget romance
If given half a chance
To breathe on a dusty heart
To kiss the cheek, abrazo
At least, it's a start
The sky crackled, split apart
Tangled web of limbs
Grim veins, life lines wane
The clouds quiet down
You and I, all that's sane
But where do we stand?
Sliding down guitar strings
Twang our way to safety
Austin City Limits
Orange is the new black
Artist gritty with it
Raw power, plugged in
Vibrating sound flung
Crash broken ear drum
Negotiating the sum
Even on a cloudy day
I can see you're the one
Terror of the night sleeps
Sky sighs bright
Adoring your face
Touching your cheek
The glow of this place
Strengthens the weak
The sky is orange tonight.
Looks haunted from my window
but not in a scary way.

Learning to Skate

2014-02-05T18:55:00.001-08:00

Skate swim sliding air

Breezing by my brain no one cares

Stare refined dominating time

Straight, narrow, wave’s my line

Meander relax until a crash

Crushing bone on cartilage moan

Scrape blood tug disheveled shirt

No pain no thoughts tossed not hurt

Cigarette fail, trail wafting smoke

Only the wind hears you laugh at your own joke

Ebb, flow, rescind, reneg, cling

To life, as we knew it, no future, that’s sin

Lou Reed's Dead in the Jungle

2014-02-03T08:19:00.002-08:00

Lou Reed’s dead

That’s what I said

Waiting for the man

Stuck in my head

At CBGB, hear the sound

Fear what we’ve found

PUNK pioneer

Finally lying Underground

Father smacked me in the face

Rawggression laced with grace

Critical jeers’n tears

Roll down my face

David Bowie, Iggy Pop

Stooges bleeding fly off flop

Banana standing lands white washed

Warhol’s seeding, planting crop

Lou Reed’s dead

That’s what I said

Waitin for the man

Stuck in my head

Gladiator, torn blue jeans

Surviving heroin, poetry

Exploding Plastic Inevitable

Fluxus-art starts melody

Static magic everything

It comes to life when you sing

Transformer trading trips

To life, fans often cling

Fuck you, I don’t need you to

TELL ME I’M GOOD, would you?

Doo-wop, White Light/White Heat

I found a reason not to sleep too

Lou Reed’s dead

That’s what I said

Waitin for the man

Stuck in my head