Well everyone's happy.
I'm kickin along here in Placerville, on my second day of fight-teaching to these high school kids. It's absolutely brilliant weather, warm but still fallish - the kind of weather that wrinkles the green from the trees, and fills up pumpkin patches.
But I digress. Last night I was in handcuffs surrounded by cop cars.
Joey too. But he didn't dig it as much, he rather gave those officers a not-well-received piece of his smart mind. Let me say this - I've never been in handcuffs before, nor have I had to put my hands on my head (which quick note here, if you do put them up there then decide to take them off to make gestures while you're speaking the cops will flip out. It's a riot) and they really weren't as uncomfortable as you'd expect. I mean, they aren't if you just let them rest there. In fact, on a hot night when everything else if fury and fire, the coolness of metal is almost relieving on your wrists. Cools ya down.
Ok, basically, as Joey and I were leaving Powell's (the only bar in town really, and Joey and I the ONLY people there) our old amigo Johnny Pacard leaned his head out of an upstairs window behind the belltower and called out "JOEY! MIKIE! Someone's breaking into my apartment can you guys go see what's going on?!?" Of course Joey and I being the superhero crime-fighters split and run around the building into the alleyways as fast as humanly possibly to catch the guy. We get behind, I scramble up onto the roof like a rocket ready to detain the perpetrator and I hear Joey below say (hesitantly) "Mikie the cops are coming," called, of course, by the same Johnny Pacard. Instantly I realized I was in a follyish position. What a silly goose, standing on the roof of a building looking for a criminal that would be standing on the roof of the building as the cops pull up. Of course. So I shimmy down quickly as the cops careen up, lights ablaze. They leap out yelling at us. And I'm actually smiling on the inside, putting my hands on my head, knowing how this is gonna end.
It ends exactly as I imagined. As the cop is unlocking my handcuffs and apologizing, he's telling me that he's mad at us because we weren't the criminals (Johnny of course had come out to straighten out the whole mixed-up scenario, and the cops contritely let us free), and he's very sorry for the inconvenience. I was trying to get a good look at his face to see if it was anybody I'd grown up with in high school, but the lights were either too bright or the night too dark.
Either way, 10 minutes later Joey and myself were standing outside his apartment reminiscing, mildly shook, mostly happy that the police force continues to confirm our suspicions that cops in small towns literally have nothing better to do than yell at innocent folks on a Monday night.
End of story. It's fight time kiddos
Mikie
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Jobs
Going to Placerville today.. long drive ahead of me. Fast, creative week to follow. Yippee do.
Got a show to do first. And a photo shoot before that.
Wait, hold up - I need to recognize how great last night was. It was great. There, recognized it.
I realized yesterday how much I'd enjoy a regular job. Like a regular job, one that locks you in for a while. Summer is virtually done, vacations have come to a close (except for the little journey I'm taking today). I'm not in school or anything.. I want a regular, acting-related job. Yesterday a buddy offered up the potential for me to work as a stand-in on a TV show, if the show got picked up and he had any sway in the decision. Would i do it? Heck YES. Don't get me wrong, valeting is a strong gig. I get fit fast, meet incredible people and can now drive anything with at least 4 wheels, but the stand-in work sounded like a nice next step in this battle for the future of my place in this business.
Of course in the same day we got the news that our play ELEVATOR has been picked up for a 12-week run at the Elephant/Asylum theatre in Hollywood, with an extension to SF and NY to follow. Kind of blew my mind, but made me think about what I really want to do.
Obviously, acting is first priority. A paid acting gig should be what this is all about. But I also have to invest in my future as an actor in Los Angeles. Kind of a dilemma. But there's plenty of time to think, so we'll deal.
that's enough. showertime. peace out fools
Got a show to do first. And a photo shoot before that.
Wait, hold up - I need to recognize how great last night was. It was great. There, recognized it.
I realized yesterday how much I'd enjoy a regular job. Like a regular job, one that locks you in for a while. Summer is virtually done, vacations have come to a close (except for the little journey I'm taking today). I'm not in school or anything.. I want a regular, acting-related job. Yesterday a buddy offered up the potential for me to work as a stand-in on a TV show, if the show got picked up and he had any sway in the decision. Would i do it? Heck YES. Don't get me wrong, valeting is a strong gig. I get fit fast, meet incredible people and can now drive anything with at least 4 wheels, but the stand-in work sounded like a nice next step in this battle for the future of my place in this business.
Of course in the same day we got the news that our play ELEVATOR has been picked up for a 12-week run at the Elephant/Asylum theatre in Hollywood, with an extension to SF and NY to follow. Kind of blew my mind, but made me think about what I really want to do.
Obviously, acting is first priority. A paid acting gig should be what this is all about. But I also have to invest in my future as an actor in Los Angeles. Kind of a dilemma. But there's plenty of time to think, so we'll deal.
that's enough. showertime. peace out fools
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sitting in douchebagland surrounded by loud bass-bumpin jingles and shaky television screens, Barney's Beanery never felt
more vacant.
I do my best - but tonight was a big one. These past couple days have been an amalgam if reaches, pulls, let-gos and bounce backs.
But you know what happened last night for the first time in a long time? My heart burned, for somebody.
Tonight, my heart smiles sadly - different reasons. It's possible i have been hiding behind a fear of commitment for the past three years... I mean I've loved my twenties. Loved them! How many adventures did I have that never felt like enough, how many risks did I blow through, accidents, hard-carved failures, decimated dreams, fulfilled philosophies and a complete mastering followed by a slow life-learning curve only starting to unravel into orderous ordeals.
Enough with the alliterations. This place smells like a fart. I wish you could hear the thicknecked doucheyells billowing behind my back. I can barely hear myself type.
In other words - I've been scared to commit. To anything. I've only chosen safe outings to scoot along down, those with predictable outcomes. I'm, as anyone, in fear of the great unknown.
It has to be with the right people. The right squires dressing your shoulders and legs.. and tonight I realized I'm not as far away from the dragon as I had imagined, much closer than a year ago. Feeling the heat of his fiery breath, singed by the promoxity, it dawned on me tonight that I need more armor than this. Because the dragon doesn't leave survivors.. There is no mercy in his wrathful attack. So I have to be ready. I started this battle, now I have to see it through. All the way until the dragon is a buried skeletal myth, and I his kingdom's king.
This fight, it's not far off.
So Smashing Pumpkins 1979 comes over the Barney's Beanery jukebox.
Lates for now foolios
more vacant.
I do my best - but tonight was a big one. These past couple days have been an amalgam if reaches, pulls, let-gos and bounce backs.
But you know what happened last night for the first time in a long time? My heart burned, for somebody.
Tonight, my heart smiles sadly - different reasons. It's possible i have been hiding behind a fear of commitment for the past three years... I mean I've loved my twenties. Loved them! How many adventures did I have that never felt like enough, how many risks did I blow through, accidents, hard-carved failures, decimated dreams, fulfilled philosophies and a complete mastering followed by a slow life-learning curve only starting to unravel into orderous ordeals.
Enough with the alliterations. This place smells like a fart. I wish you could hear the thicknecked doucheyells billowing behind my back. I can barely hear myself type.
In other words - I've been scared to commit. To anything. I've only chosen safe outings to scoot along down, those with predictable outcomes. I'm, as anyone, in fear of the great unknown.
It has to be with the right people. The right squires dressing your shoulders and legs.. and tonight I realized I'm not as far away from the dragon as I had imagined, much closer than a year ago. Feeling the heat of his fiery breath, singed by the promoxity, it dawned on me tonight that I need more armor than this. Because the dragon doesn't leave survivors.. There is no mercy in his wrathful attack. So I have to be ready. I started this battle, now I have to see it through. All the way until the dragon is a buried skeletal myth, and I his kingdom's king.
This fight, it's not far off.
So Smashing Pumpkins 1979 comes over the Barney's Beanery jukebox.
Lates for now foolios
Saturday, September 18, 2010
thoughts, comments, observations
Now's not the time to blog.
The play last night was, well, interesting. Honestly, I don't think I've ever left a performance feeling so flabbergasted. Flustered. Fluked.
I mean here's the deal - we've been working on this show for MONTHS. A long time. We rehearse the crapola out of this thing, and then on our second night of our third opening it literally falls to pieces?!? There's no explanation. None. We are all strong, hard-working, disciplined and thinking people. We know this stuff inside and out.
Maybe it's the inevitable.
But I don't believe that - look at valeting. It's not like you can just show up to work one day after months of doing the same somewhat monotonous activity and say "oops. well, crashed that Bentley. sorry" nope. There's no room for oopses. No mistakes. Every Bentley is the first Bentley you've ever driven, no matter how off you feel.
That's the thing - we weren't off.. it was just weird. And it wasn't one or two of us - maybe that's the chemistry of the thing, we spend so much time together that when one or two of us recognizes the ship sinking, we all recognize it collectively, grab our life jackets and plug our noses.
I think that's what happened. We kept afloat until the final bows, but MAN that ocean water had come up to our throats. pretty crazy.
Here's the best part though - as with any human creation- it's just a play. It's a show we've created in order to entertain an audience. And was the audience entertained? Yes. The audience didn't even care about the scratch on their Bentleys. So let's let it be. off. gone. Done.
I'll say one more thing -what I continue to love the most about all of this stuff is exactly that: every time you step on that stage or the hear "action" it's always the first time . Every time. I love that, a total escape - a total clean slate. Even if the show bails into muck, you can clean up your act, find a new project and start fresh all over again. That's the beauty of our creative engines - nothing is permanent, the good or the bad. So let's keep steamin forward
The play last night was, well, interesting. Honestly, I don't think I've ever left a performance feeling so flabbergasted. Flustered. Fluked.
I mean here's the deal - we've been working on this show for MONTHS. A long time. We rehearse the crapola out of this thing, and then on our second night of our third opening it literally falls to pieces?!? There's no explanation. None. We are all strong, hard-working, disciplined and thinking people. We know this stuff inside and out.
Maybe it's the inevitable.
But I don't believe that - look at valeting. It's not like you can just show up to work one day after months of doing the same somewhat monotonous activity and say "oops. well, crashed that Bentley. sorry" nope. There's no room for oopses. No mistakes. Every Bentley is the first Bentley you've ever driven, no matter how off you feel.
That's the thing - we weren't off.. it was just weird. And it wasn't one or two of us - maybe that's the chemistry of the thing, we spend so much time together that when one or two of us recognizes the ship sinking, we all recognize it collectively, grab our life jackets and plug our noses.
I think that's what happened. We kept afloat until the final bows, but MAN that ocean water had come up to our throats. pretty crazy.
Here's the best part though - as with any human creation- it's just a play. It's a show we've created in order to entertain an audience. And was the audience entertained? Yes. The audience didn't even care about the scratch on their Bentleys. So let's let it be. off. gone. Done.
I'll say one more thing -what I continue to love the most about all of this stuff is exactly that: every time you step on that stage or the hear "action" it's always the first time . Every time. I love that, a total escape - a total clean slate. Even if the show bails into muck, you can clean up your act, find a new project and start fresh all over again. That's the beauty of our creative engines - nothing is permanent, the good or the bad. So let's keep steamin forward
the problem with girls
is that they're impossible.
Every last one of them.
Whether they're married, single, hopelessly devoted, masochistically stubborn, all business while deeply curious, willfully playful while firmly conservative, blond, brunette, dirty blond, 5'1-4'', giving, selfish, outlandishly attractive, naturally alluring, freckled, tan, porcelained...
whatever the situation, one rule remains: Girls are impossibly difficult, and so I sleep alone.
goodnight
Every last one of them.
Whether they're married, single, hopelessly devoted, masochistically stubborn, all business while deeply curious, willfully playful while firmly conservative, blond, brunette, dirty blond, 5'1-4'', giving, selfish, outlandishly attractive, naturally alluring, freckled, tan, porcelained...
whatever the situation, one rule remains: Girls are impossibly difficult, and so I sleep alone.
goodnight
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Well here's me at my best
And on the 8th day, God said "let there be the Stone Brewery" and there was. And men and women throughout the land felt warmth and happiness within their bosoms. And it was very good.
We just had a truly intense rehearsal one night before the opening of our third run of ELEVATOR, here in the whimsical city of Los Angeles, California. The air outside my bedroom smells like unkempt roses, dirt and must with a touch of ocean breeze- I can hear an almost imaginary howl of faroff cars .. every once and again the kitchen down the hallway clinks with the sounds of Jason rummaging. My hair's afro. My mind's a sloppy smorgasbord of pleasure and passion and traveling dreams and impossible loves .. all I want to do is to explore - see new things. Too much order and demand makes me a dull and relatively restless soul. I look forward to opening our play this weekend (particularly tomorrow) and exploring the newness of that - but beyond my heart aches for some kind of oceanic scenic fear, that lofty frightened angst of pouring black waves, steaming with a thick billowing foam.. fog hanging around my ears. the night silent, just roiling pouring waves. it eats at me. it sickens me. and sick is pleasure for the deeper concern.
We can never have the girls, the items, the places, the parts we really want - then when our patience runs thin instead we puncture through the layers of taut, between future and past; running this river is like a blind dog crossing a highway at rush hour - but I won't waste a step. I'm not a stupid canine. I'm a sharp wolfe building an empire, and we're still digging for supports. It's a huge project. The pyramids took between 25-50 years to build. So this is nothin.
Goodnight you sexy world of minds.
We just had a truly intense rehearsal one night before the opening of our third run of ELEVATOR, here in the whimsical city of Los Angeles, California. The air outside my bedroom smells like unkempt roses, dirt and must with a touch of ocean breeze- I can hear an almost imaginary howl of faroff cars .. every once and again the kitchen down the hallway clinks with the sounds of Jason rummaging. My hair's afro. My mind's a sloppy smorgasbord of pleasure and passion and traveling dreams and impossible loves .. all I want to do is to explore - see new things. Too much order and demand makes me a dull and relatively restless soul. I look forward to opening our play this weekend (particularly tomorrow) and exploring the newness of that - but beyond my heart aches for some kind of oceanic scenic fear, that lofty frightened angst of pouring black waves, steaming with a thick billowing foam.. fog hanging around my ears. the night silent, just roiling pouring waves. it eats at me. it sickens me. and sick is pleasure for the deeper concern.
We can never have the girls, the items, the places, the parts we really want - then when our patience runs thin instead we puncture through the layers of taut, between future and past; running this river is like a blind dog crossing a highway at rush hour - but I won't waste a step. I'm not a stupid canine. I'm a sharp wolfe building an empire, and we're still digging for supports. It's a huge project. The pyramids took between 25-50 years to build. So this is nothin.
Goodnight you sexy world of minds.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
some kind of warmth
and I can't quite put my finger on what it is, or why it feels so good lately.
But as I was hitting the outskirts of Los Angeles today on my way back from northern Santa Cruz, I recognized a change in the air or something. Something good has happened, and I think I'm responding to it.
The truth is, I just partook in a weekend of love and gymnastics familiarity, got paid and hung out with old friends in that fascinating little coastal haven. it's only natural that I would exit the weekend with a very warm heart. I mean, going to Crow's Nest two nights in a row now feels like a dream come true.. Funny how only a year ago that could have been more than a regular occurrence.. what happened? What's different?
I don't know how to describe the warmth. It's like a hot shower after weeks of being chilled to the bone. Or the first hot touch of sun on your arm after a long winter. Best described as amazing.
Maybe it's more katharsis; all the work and struggle are finally paying themselves off and I'm beginning to feel it. Maybe it's a warmth of some kind of earned security that took a lot of hard work to finally step into place.
Maybe it's that I fall in love with old crushes, marvel over road trips, joke around with 9 year olds, worship a trustworthy vehicle, love being in a play, feel settled in making some money and don't know what lies ahead that makes my heart feel so grand.
Or that it's going to be fall, and then winter. There's snowboarding to be had, more friendships to rekindle and crushes to pursue, jobs to search for and futures to get excited about.
it's all right there, at the edge of our fingertips, like the steam off a cup of coffee on an early november morning in a cafe by the beach, or on your drive to work.
it's such a crazy adventure.
what a nice night
Love you all
Migs
But as I was hitting the outskirts of Los Angeles today on my way back from northern Santa Cruz, I recognized a change in the air or something. Something good has happened, and I think I'm responding to it.
The truth is, I just partook in a weekend of love and gymnastics familiarity, got paid and hung out with old friends in that fascinating little coastal haven. it's only natural that I would exit the weekend with a very warm heart. I mean, going to Crow's Nest two nights in a row now feels like a dream come true.. Funny how only a year ago that could have been more than a regular occurrence.. what happened? What's different?
I don't know how to describe the warmth. It's like a hot shower after weeks of being chilled to the bone. Or the first hot touch of sun on your arm after a long winter. Best described as amazing.
Maybe it's more katharsis; all the work and struggle are finally paying themselves off and I'm beginning to feel it. Maybe it's a warmth of some kind of earned security that took a lot of hard work to finally step into place.
Maybe it's that I fall in love with old crushes, marvel over road trips, joke around with 9 year olds, worship a trustworthy vehicle, love being in a play, feel settled in making some money and don't know what lies ahead that makes my heart feel so grand.
Or that it's going to be fall, and then winter. There's snowboarding to be had, more friendships to rekindle and crushes to pursue, jobs to search for and futures to get excited about.
it's all right there, at the edge of our fingertips, like the steam off a cup of coffee on an early november morning in a cafe by the beach, or on your drive to work.
it's such a crazy adventure.
what a nice night
Love you all
Migs
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Unfinished
As I lay here contemplating life, drinking a Hop Stoopid on Alanna's bed in Santa Cruz beneath the La Pasta sign with the occasional gravely footsteps scraping by below while bad Rhianna songs echo from a local bar down the street, all I can think about is how good it feels to be alive again.
What, was i dead? Nah. Just dreaming. Lots of it. But earlier tonight i was standing at the edge of the roiling waves drinking my IPA, feeling the difference between dreams and awakeness.
... This could go anywhere (depending on which vocabulary my iPhone autocorrect sees fit) Why can't we lump our lives together, huh? Why must we choose for keeps just one or the other? Society does not suggest happy-mediums. All I want is to have both lives, all lives, but our ridiculous world refuses to allow the two or three to coexist. "choose your destiny." So that today I feel compelled as usual to choose between ultimatems, between outcomes pressed on us by no one in particular. Of course we have a responsibility to stick to our guns, our manufactured best interest - But what to do in delightful moments of solitude like tonight
What, was i dead? Nah. Just dreaming. Lots of it. But earlier tonight i was standing at the edge of the roiling waves drinking my IPA, feeling the difference between dreams and awakeness.
... This could go anywhere (depending on which vocabulary my iPhone autocorrect sees fit) Why can't we lump our lives together, huh? Why must we choose for keeps just one or the other? Society does not suggest happy-mediums. All I want is to have both lives, all lives, but our ridiculous world refuses to allow the two or three to coexist. "choose your destiny." So that today I feel compelled as usual to choose between ultimatems, between outcomes pressed on us by no one in particular. Of course we have a responsibility to stick to our guns, our manufactured best interest - But what to do in delightful moments of solitude like tonight
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Timberwolf!
Well for those of you whom I don't communicate with regularly, aka for the ether of internet crowds whom might unabashedly stumble upon this hoard of unstrung thoughts, I'm back in LA.
What that means is that I left LA, for about a week and a half.
What THAT means is that I finally had my summer elsewhere, something I'd been anticipating or the past three months.
What THAT means is I had an opportunity to develop perspective and grounding in order to return to Los Angeles with a fresh (almost too-fresh) new vantage point from which to work.
What does that mean?
I guess we're just going to have to see. So let's make a list of conclusions:
Conclusion #1:
Dirt is good or you. Let it cover your skin and mat up your hair. You can bathe anytime - we live in a world of waterful luxury, so get dirty.
#2:
Watch what others are doing. People are pretty darn creative, and there's always a good reason to see what others are up to.
#3:
Writing blogs should be fun and exciting, not dark and depressing. So I'll do my best.
#4:
It's safe to explore your past-selves, those old versions of yourself that we've so neatly tucked away in the drawers of our subconscious.
#5:
You are always free. Even when trapped in the jail cell of society, you are still free. There is never a moment you aren't allowed to stand up, put your hands up and declare, "I'm out." Living in a city like Los Angeles should always be a choice. Humans don't need to congregate here, we want to.
#6:
Money is just money, and therefore meaningless.. Art doesn't need money to exist. People don't need money to survive. But money does need people and the artist in order to work. If you work, you are an artist doing money a favor.
#7:
Never spend a summer away from the river again.
#Photographs:
We created a little buzz of fame this day for these pictures. Satan's Cesspool. This one's pretty solid.
Little faux Abercrombie & Fitch photo shoot with Joey, Emily and Heather in Apple Hill to top off the late summertime
Somewhere along the way I picked up this deep green angel of darkness. I have a new BFF. His name is Timberwolf after his father the Prince of Burning Man Nomads.
This happy request was posted directly on top of an artist's mural in the Liar's Bench in downtown Placerville.
I decided to take a few pictures of my origins, the city of the Gods, Placervillle, Caliornia. Check it out:
And look who came to visit.... :)
Finally it was time to pack up and head to Burning Man. Here's a very small taste of the incredulity that I had the privilege of experiencing:
And now I've returned home to my little temporary stay in Pasadena with a hoard of new love to feed me. It feels like a new year is starting, like the turning over of a new leaf. Having Timberwolf the car in LA has already proved the best improvement in a long time - now to moving!
Migs
What that means is that I left LA, for about a week and a half.
What THAT means is that I finally had my summer elsewhere, something I'd been anticipating or the past three months.
What THAT means is I had an opportunity to develop perspective and grounding in order to return to Los Angeles with a fresh (almost too-fresh) new vantage point from which to work.
What does that mean?
I guess we're just going to have to see. So let's make a list of conclusions:
Conclusion #1:
Dirt is good or you. Let it cover your skin and mat up your hair. You can bathe anytime - we live in a world of waterful luxury, so get dirty.
#2:
Watch what others are doing. People are pretty darn creative, and there's always a good reason to see what others are up to.
#3:
Writing blogs should be fun and exciting, not dark and depressing. So I'll do my best.
#4:
It's safe to explore your past-selves, those old versions of yourself that we've so neatly tucked away in the drawers of our subconscious.
#5:
You are always free. Even when trapped in the jail cell of society, you are still free. There is never a moment you aren't allowed to stand up, put your hands up and declare, "I'm out." Living in a city like Los Angeles should always be a choice. Humans don't need to congregate here, we want to.
#6:
Money is just money, and therefore meaningless.. Art doesn't need money to exist. People don't need money to survive. But money does need people and the artist in order to work. If you work, you are an artist doing money a favor.
#7:
Never spend a summer away from the river again.
#Photographs:
We created a little buzz of fame this day for these pictures. Satan's Cesspool. This one's pretty solid.
Little faux Abercrombie & Fitch photo shoot with Joey, Emily and Heather in Apple Hill to top off the late summertime
Somewhere along the way I picked up this deep green angel of darkness. I have a new BFF. His name is Timberwolf after his father the Prince of Burning Man Nomads.
This happy request was posted directly on top of an artist's mural in the Liar's Bench in downtown Placerville.
I decided to take a few pictures of my origins, the city of the Gods, Placervillle, Caliornia. Check it out:
And look who came to visit.... :)
Finally it was time to pack up and head to Burning Man. Here's a very small taste of the incredulity that I had the privilege of experiencing:
And now I've returned home to my little temporary stay in Pasadena with a hoard of new love to feed me. It feels like a new year is starting, like the turning over of a new leaf. Having Timberwolf the car in LA has already proved the best improvement in a long time - now to moving!
Migs
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Clearly this is happening for a reason
well maybe it isn't -
maybe it's all a random rolling thing
a coaster speeding up of feelings
sewn together but by chance
no serendipitous or make believe reality
exists because nothing is meant to be
and we are only left to scramble,
scattered all around still in our head,
we work and hope that we will
wake up knowing life's not nothing
more than finding nothing, knowing
we aren't but a stapled doll
draw to a cork board of banality
looking sideways
Today I have a car.
Yesterday I sat by the river at dusk.
Today I am in love.
Tomorrow is Burning Man.
Next week we'll be in rehearsals again
and everybody's happy when there's still room for growth.
Still is it all for hell?
Is it real or do we sell ourselves
to nothingness and ride this
passionate spiral of relationships,
realism, the adult plain staying away from play
when there is only no meaning
no reason for it at all to begin with?
Let's plot it from the present to reverse
It becomes a tree.
Moments now are like clean new twigs
sprouting from the stems of an earlier branch
This branch is glittering with memories
angled up and out from a thicker
and heartier arm split from three gnarled snakes,
all paths you tried to take
all rising up from one barky limb
heavy, curved, carved creating hymns of solitude
and sweetness, sing-song frivolous completeness
living in that freeful now, exploring love, failing, falling
picking up and packing on your layered bark
creating that totem of drying art
on your timeless trunk waiting for the kiln.
It is a tree we're growing
a life-giving tree
planted deep in old soil
a living thing
so fastly bound
no desert furies,
blizzards, rain
will shake these roots
from their earthen register
That's where the meaning lives
the meaning is now, and what's come before.
The past's alive, the future is what's dead
until we resurrect what once was in our head
see you after Burning Man kiddos :)
Mikie
maybe it's all a random rolling thing
a coaster speeding up of feelings
sewn together but by chance
no serendipitous or make believe reality
exists because nothing is meant to be
and we are only left to scramble,
scattered all around still in our head,
we work and hope that we will
wake up knowing life's not nothing
more than finding nothing, knowing
we aren't but a stapled doll
draw to a cork board of banality
looking sideways
Today I have a car.
Yesterday I sat by the river at dusk.
Today I am in love.
Tomorrow is Burning Man.
Next week we'll be in rehearsals again
and everybody's happy when there's still room for growth.
Still is it all for hell?
Is it real or do we sell ourselves
to nothingness and ride this
passionate spiral of relationships,
realism, the adult plain staying away from play
when there is only no meaning
no reason for it at all to begin with?
Let's plot it from the present to reverse
It becomes a tree.
Moments now are like clean new twigs
sprouting from the stems of an earlier branch
This branch is glittering with memories
angled up and out from a thicker
and heartier arm split from three gnarled snakes,
all paths you tried to take
all rising up from one barky limb
heavy, curved, carved creating hymns of solitude
and sweetness, sing-song frivolous completeness
living in that freeful now, exploring love, failing, falling
picking up and packing on your layered bark
creating that totem of drying art
on your timeless trunk waiting for the kiln.
It is a tree we're growing
a life-giving tree
planted deep in old soil
a living thing
so fastly bound
no desert furies,
blizzards, rain
will shake these roots
from their earthen register
That's where the meaning lives
the meaning is now, and what's come before.
The past's alive, the future is what's dead
until we resurrect what once was in our head
see you after Burning Man kiddos :)
Mikie
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