Playing fierce! Some visual deluxe to enjoy for a humpday.

Good Evening well LOVE WINS! At least it is a start, and that Wendy Davis would make a fine Texas Govenor, don't you think? I suppose I could go on about the joy of equality that will be ringing in the states that have equal marriage laws or the amazing Federal approval, but I think that it really just ballons to big to feel the future so bright, lets move on to fixing the voter act, decriminalizing no violent crimes consentual crimes, saying no to Tar Sands and Fracking, shutting down Monsanto, forgiving student debt and reinvesting to education, arts, sciences, and environment, and staying the Fuck out of Syria! So here is a series of lush fantastics to fever your dreams and plump your desires.
Bon Apetit!
curious:
awesome: rally:

Comando and the illusion of Protection

It is a very brief moment for connection, that vital contract of understanding that boasts words and ideas and balloons under the ego of RIGHT. Tonight I have tousled with a soldier regarding beliefs about war and music (it's all crap because of over production, or so I was told) I was given a pass( as I was a useful mind and it needed protection) once again there was presented an "enemy", an evil out to do me wrong (maybe), I argued that I fear not death and I would not be swayed by the desire of safety, by boots or guns or anything that did not involve engaging a stranger in their values. Tonight I recommit to my needs. Finding my voice, though I know that my slender pursuits of drinking and raucous behaviour at clubs and bars and late night trysts with those that do not compel love but mutual affection for simplicity and physical comfort, well I am not ashamed! I am human and though striving for a singular greatness under a stream of evolutionary glamor of art and beauty, even though it is the poison milk of so many before me, my drunken sad clowns tapping the words out, a Morris code for affection. These words are my talent and not my skill but I humbly submit that my eagerness to compress truisms into my chatter in late nights, on bus rides, in the pauses of life is not enough to find peace or reference to my own clarity. I admit that I need you audience, for my clarity is only based on reflections, and I need the night to swim my understanding in. I have a home, a job, a friend with benefits, I am an adult and drink my orange juice form the carton with out regret! This is my solitary chant, but I soften to the chance to awaken a mind to a larger moment in time where meaning is possible, when design is function and you are crafted as whole. Dear reader I am on as quest for skills to reflect my talent and this blunder of jabbering is an offering to the muses that I am not lost to the safe world of speech and affectionate exchanges that I can not trace, but to whimsy of a freedom to express beyond a tailored outcome for individual extraordinary. I offer my bosom to be motor boated by all. I am not these words for you but with you. I am not safe, I am thriving by grace and a desperate melancholy overcome. My people, demand your skill! Demand your relevance! There is no safety in guns, in relationships, in jobs, in dreams, But there is an unfolding illumination to which I will read these words again. Thank You night, Thank you rogue thinkers, thank you orgasms that shattered my identity for that brief glimpse to compassions beyond my obvious. Thank you super moon.

Unfolding DaVinci discovering your Dandylion, It's Champagne Wishes and BusbyBerkley Dreams. A Tribute to Innovation.

In spite of "The America" going crazy, it has been a rich and lush weekend filed with blossoms of beauty and creative spark. Somewhere regaining my vision has opened my field of wonder again as I gear up for a fever of fun.

So DaVinci has been on my radar, when feeling rather slumpy amid the news of a crumbling America and in the middle of a wintery April I found the only thing that held my interest was a new show called DaVinci's Demons. It was steamy and soapy and super entertaining but mostly it brought about the "engineering a dream" question to me. How do you find the diligence and cunning to find the grease, to make the journey, to get to B. Convincing others that your Vision is perfect for the here and now is heavy in my heart, but I type it out and still keep my dedication to work and know that luck will eventually win (luck being the culmination of being where you need to be because you earned it doing what you want to do because you love it.) As my Sunday Funday playdate downtown and I unfolded from brunch to shopping and I was honest and said would you mind if we stopped at ..... well we passed the Da Vinci exhibit which I had bought 2-4-1 tickets to last year and had always wanted to go, it was the final day and the final tour was starting = had to.

 So This is my post from earlier but it was inspiration and it felt sad sitting on the digital shelf, and so I will revisit my fascination with dandelion, the sunny under appreciated in the americas "weed", which is destroyed every year with millions of dollars worth of pesticides; odd considering it was thought to be so precious that it was brought here by the northern Europeons because of all it's prized medicinal value, the bitternessis cleansing of the blood and the kidneys. Anyway the point is that something so determined and resiliant is probally a friend rather than an enemy just like that other weed that has so many uses.

And then there is this magic delight:

Kikki for one (midterms for my Jesus Year. )

Maybe it is a ritual, the river of sadness floods and after another week survived and sometime sparkled, I am awash with dissatisfaction, and nothing will do. My mind shreds each possibility of the nights entertainment, until I am naked weeping and delivering my sufferings to my Universal Benefactor. The story goes something like this; I do not know why I am still here, I do not know how I am to help if this is a place that does not know what to do with me, I can no longer stand the marveling distant "pat on the back"  it is haunting to be more intimate with strangers able to understand their quiet inner prism of desires effortlessly, and only to find comfort in the comfort I bring to others which is only in the deepest throws of random insertions that i can never predict. The mind numbing waiting I have done, and still time keeps on, jailed am I. And  then my heart flutters and I am refreshed, the river has been restored. I wonder, is that is why I have this life? because I am so quick to heal, so quick to forget, forgive or farewell?

I often lose connection to my words, struggle to make the time for my own musings, so well entertained by external impressions and chasing the purpose and the random insertions, but today I am recommitted to the process. I am humbled to be so indulgent in my own inner workings and to expose them here, although one could say it is once again my predilection for intimacy with strangers but this space was created as an expression of my desire to dig deeper into the process of transformation and I find that I am only cured by my own honesty, and I am relieved of the burden of brainswim and clogged intentions.

This year has been a exhibition of failures and pardons, and though I stand recklessly poised to continue in failed attempts at coupling, coding, earning, I will soldier on. Oh yeah that is why I'm here the inevitable rally.

Last month I did the Monsanto protest and it was elating, at some point I chimed in my voice mixing with others as we took to the mall and then up into traffic, fearless and solid in purpose, often met with confusion by the bystanders and occasionally solidarity. There is so much to be done so much to fight for, and I wondered if I am ever allowed to slump from exhaustion as things seem so far from divine meaning.

These broken wheels of government and corporate influence. I have nothing to hide, please listen to the calls from my mother as she worries about my health and we battle over her justifications and my cold assertions and our inevitable laughter over the uselessness of it all.  Please listen to the student loan people once again having lost the paperwork and needing something else from me to prove I am not able to slice off my survival to the bank of no mercy. I wonder why students are treated as criminals and given the least representation yet the criminal corporate culture or just plain criminals are given more financing than a student could ever compare to. Sort through my emails to companies that are looking for someone not quite as dynamic as me.

So what is the point of this postcard from my fortress of solitude? I am bored with my rallying and the carrot, yet there is no relief and I will forget my struggle after the slut high subsides and I am back to the wheel to grind, I am here still here quietly carving into a dream and strangely I know that you are too.