Friday, December 21

(pause* merry christmas!)

take a step back from the real world
and jaded expectations.

return to naive wishings
and latent plans of bright ambitions,
- for yourself and the world you seek to live in.

here's a symbol of for the end-of-year:

[british columbia. ]
[[the playground and town: man's created fantasy]]

showing man or land, all is clothed in the quiet whisperings of earth's wintry speakings.


[singapore. underpass at scotts road]

Wednesday, December 12

a layering of places (0706) on events(1107)

travelling as a microcosm of an event:
a three- step process, each with its own phase/demands/questions.

1. embarkation or the constant battle
the bolder the declaration, the greater the faith (usually blind) required.

are you a skeptic.
what practical miracles you do need, and whose authority.
does this god de-legitimise another; how do you settle allegiances.
when do you trust.

[?. munich]

2. the hook or the dance
sometimes you pass by pockets of true romanticism among the landscape of a limpid life; a lilting strain from afar makes your heart beat that much faster, you hear the beat in tandem, and imagine now you are alive, when perhaps you were previously not; youre hooked, whether by a place, a song, a person.
you might stop and jostle for a better glimpse, entranced by the meaning they bring you.

do you stay for the ride.
when will you finally join in- the music only lasts so long.


3. end
much of the time, we leave because the Ticket says so.
the time-stamp demands we adhere to plans pre-decided. we obey the Ticket in our hands because we stand sober of 1. blind faith, and 2. the strains of music werent enough to lure us back.

(the end is in itself a gaping question)

[munich hbf.]

now id like to know
can we get up and go

by. broadcast 2000

Tuesday, December 4

smell of something fresh.

a photo of a full moon near lake powell, utah [by amiran white],
heavy with silent splendor, is enough to remind one of the vast unseen out there; earth's own creations.

the unapologetic acridity beneath a solemn eye on a blank blue canvas
also reminds me of the moist lushness of northern laos, another side of the earth pregnant with green and wet blue.

they look like they belong right there, in the warm stream of the earth. have we forgotten how it feels like- to have water, wind, air, the fire of the sun's heat sculpting and reviving our tired urban-clad form?

[vang vieng. namkong river?]

[vang vieng. main street artery]
as if man decided to roll out a carpet for his urban plans and worldly games.

[luang prabang. a nuns' temple at the top of some hill]
beauty within sanctified grounds; both plant and man (or in this case, woman) pointing to something skyward, more spiritual.

[+ 091207]
sometimes we're reminded of our place in certain hierarchies, especially of the larger scheme of things. listen to this song- it says, "first was the earth, then men."

well, we all like a good song which is almost uncouthly direct, and unabashed. here's one singing an awe-struck ode to what must have been a bloody amazing sight of:

these fucking mountains,
white tipped with snow,
cold- blooded colossuses,
electric headstones
stab ferociously
at the lions of these giants.

this impenetrable darkness,
this brooding gloom,
inhaling, exhaling
its native suns.
it breeds gloriously,
needs no illumination
in the wilderness.

this fucking carpet
looks like the sea.
it rolls and sways uproariously
with the trampling of feet.

emperor penguins
and your marriage ceremonies
confound the wilderness
of the mountains

whoa ooh
bababah ooh babababah

this fucking mountain
by the unreliable narrator

[ .]