Tag: dharmazine

This is the painting, that is Stan’s converted bus and then there is my mess in the foreground.  At this point the painting was about 2/3rds done.  A few others had worked on it as well.  In the comments I’ll post a picture of the Happy Winner.  Click on the image to see it full size.  There will be some better photos coming from some friends shortly.  But at least now you get to see a bit of my style.

Normally I work on a flat surface so it was a challenge working on the vertical surface again.  I used natural charcoal, acrylic paint and iridescent inks.  The canvas is lightweight, I prefer linen but linen is very expensive.  

I learned:

1. to bring a stool to hold my pallet so there isn’t as much bending over involved.

2. bring some acrylic extender to increase the workability of the paints.

3. set up in the shade next time.

4. letting go of ownership can be a wonderful thing.

After an easy drive out to Sterling I had a little difficulty finding the venue, but like most things that are hard to find it was worth the search.  The “gate” consisted of two large trees on either side of the road with some friendly faces there to greet you.  Eric, the Arts Director came out and introduced himself, gave me some background on the venue, musicians and layout of the property.

I was lead to my spot, right in the middle of Vendor Row, quickly unpacked my things and set up my tent.  Stan, my neighbor in a big white converted bus, was the first to say hello, he gave me a tour of his bus and introduced me around to his travel companions.  Stan sells rocks, crystals and anything terrestrial and was going to head to Herkimer to get some more Herkimer Diamonds right after the show.

I exited the bus and was asked if I’d be willing to paint a sign for the Family Village area, a small hollow that sits away from the rest of the venue where things are quieter.  I said sure and was handed a beautiful piece of wood that had been reserved for just this purpose. I broke out my paints and started in on it. People walking by asked what I was doing and who I was and it was a good way to meet new people.

Nope this isn’t some cleverly worded title about the latest situation in Iraq, just another update from the farm:

I am pretending I have 30 spare minutes but in reality I do not.  Reality can wait.  It is still snowing…hasn’t stopped in 36 hours. The weatherman just said there is a total of 12 1/2 inches.  The tractor got a real good workout yesterday but it really isn’t meant to be a snow plow.  I’ll be getting a larger truck soon and putting a plow on it.

I found 3 possible spots for the new house, they all have southern exposure and are pretty high up on the property.  I found out that this property is the watershed for two small brooks, one leading West and one leading South.  Another cat has shown up in the barn and the bravest of the barn cats is now upstairs in the house munching out and hanging out with Dancer.

Hyper Thick Compression Sticks

like Jesus the lost Apostle begotten from Zen

and carved from Chi balancing

in/ rainbows cherub voices fugue

like “smile” on the cutting room floors

of  Billboard’s Top Forty

yeah yeah he hates these cans

and exchoooose me

blunderfoot and bubblehead bounces

in consumption spirals blank

syncopated like cannonball adderly

but a poor man’s version

that’s what I like

make it sparse

make it important

on a hillside at 3 am tingles

trickling spinewords in pinewood caskets

and baskets of wings

clipped by Missus Obstacles

in spent little pentagrams of white chalk dust

escaping

so ignore my days

ignore my gaze

not meant for you

just left over from

another’s reflection bouncing like time

while swinging on vines

or am i a doorbell

ringing

an instant classic that won’t be read on the radio

a stale bread masterpiece with caribou meat

and chalice

balanced at the first supper table’s edge where no one was betrayed in gospel tones and tent revivals

where god gets paid like the mob boss we make him out to be

in harmony off bathroom walls and corridors bleached

meat equals cake

bread equals life

egg is soul

fork is this memory of college before it went bad

and you got lost between the coats, toads and racists

oh bitch face it this dress ain’t for me

magnificent though it is

so go on ignoring

keep on ignoring

me

unintended tragedy singular and hollow

like being lied to at nineteen

when it meant so much

another small gray American upbringing

howling in cracked panes and coarse wood

in roadside shacks beside your car

meditating in motion

and crushing forces

My generation thought Vietnam was an aberration, but it wasn’t, it was the game plan.  Lie your way into a nasty little war and let other people’s children do the killing and dying while the fat cats at the top of the capitalist pile rake in the dough.  It’s all for the benefit of those so bloated with greed that they just don’t care that their profits come soaked in the blood of innocents and patriots.

This poem started off on dailyKos….I added a lot of images, fixed some of the text, and put it all below the fold