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INVERSE VANDALISM

Create. Live. Evolve.

STICKY POST

[in-vurs] [van-dl-iz-uhm]

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A handful of songs I performed on this blog are living here...





All original works on this site are licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.


Settling into Fall

Hello Earthlings,

Tonight as I gaze down at Jackson Ave., I am relaxed. Relaxed for the first time in a couple of weeks.
A break up, a friend sent to rehab, and a hastily planned move. A weeks work done, a to-do list completely highlighted, and a cold Shiner Bock in hand. Haven't seen these in a while, so I grabbed a box full. Reminds me of my second home out on the range...

The new home is coming together nicely. I commandeered two very old gas space heaters from my mother at the old homestead and stopped by Home Depot to acquire the proper fittings to retro fit my palatial apartment. The ceramic elements are currently glowing in the darkness of living room #1 as the gentle, perfect heat drifts upwards into the arms of 12 ft ceilings and wraps down the walls to rest on my shoulders.

Living room #2 is even larger and houses everything musical and my office with echoes to spare. Ten foot double hung windows slide open as I walk out to the 400 sq. ft. wrap around balcony overlooking Jackson Ave. and Camp St. Four blocks to St. Charles. One block to Magazine. A ladder reaches from the my 2nd story balcony even higher to a third floor loft that is unrented and will stay that way so the landlord says. The tiny balcony on this level is easily 100 feet up and offers views of the entire skyline, the Mississippi River, and farther. And it's all mine.

The bedroom is smaller than the rest of the rooms, but also has access to the balcony. The second space heater resides there and is currently baking everything in the room. Gotta go turn it down. There. This brown, steel, behemoth burned my hands as a child and taught me to be cautious of things that radiate heat. The toasty, slightly gassy smelling air has me feeling nostalgic.

I am learning to embrace boredom. It has not been easy. Up until recently, I would already be out partying with whoever would let me at this time of night. But, I'd like to think I've changed a bit in the last few months. I still need to record three new songs I've written. Doing that soon. I'm gonna curl up with a good book now and bask in the warmth of contentment, so, until next time, goodnight.

18 years

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I just moved into the top floor of a mansion on Jackson Ave. and Magazine St. The wrap around balcony, the breeze, and the view are bringing me somewhere. I just wrote this song. Disregard the misplaced commas. They're all about the timing. I'll be recording it to post here tomorrow.

I was just the tender age of 14, when my loving father died.
And somehow, throughout the grief, helplessness, and pain I refused to cry.

Coping and survival kicked in, and my emotions ran to hide.
And my feelings unexpressed locked me deep inside myself, and chained my pride.

18 years of pain, where has it gotten me?
Lonely.
I might just need a shrink; already tried the drink.
Help me.

So I kept myself protected, in a crisis mode, for 18 years.
Using and then losing friends as quickly as I made 'em, and still no tears.

Gearing up for the next big drop on the self-destructive, roller coaster.
It's too bad we can't see ourselves and change the way we act as we grow older.

18 years of pain, where has gotten me?
Nowhere.
I'm enraged and vengeful, life's boring and uneventful
I didn't care.

As the earth revolved around the sun, I became a pro at manifesting drama.
And as the wasteful years flew by fast, I finally made up, with my mama.

But still in all relationships I sabotaged myself, to get my fix.
As soon as they were going somewhere good, I made damn sure they were nixed.

18 years of pain, you've made my life a living hell.
And now I know.
Almost outta rope, but I might be strong enough, to just let it go.
Yeah, Just let it go.

<solo>

So I think I finally found a place, within my head, and it's where I wanna be.
By a tranquil pool of water, on a mountain top, just inside of me.

And it's there that I forgave myself, for the hurt I've caused, all throughout the years.
And I watched that tranquil pool spill down the mountainside in a waterfall of tears.

18 years of pain, where have you gotten me?
Everywhere.
And Dad you know I love you so much, and I can't wait to see you there.
I can't wait to see you there.


I just composed the music and this is gonna be beautiful. Come back and check it out later. Peace.


The Snake Gallery

My brain is on fire. I tossed and turned all night last with pieces of art not yet created racing through my skull. I haven't had a creative rush like that in a long time. Today, I went to Lowes and spent quite a bit on supplies. You have to strike the hammer while the iron is hot.

It coincided with my decision to find an art gallery space to rent for my decorative concrete business.
I missed out on a great one the other day. It was a two story building with a garage in the back to store equipment, a showroom with a bare concrete floor ready to pimp out, and a three bedroom apartment above. Perfect, since my girlfriend and I just broke up. (I need a place to live as well.)

Alas, it was rented the day before. Oh well.

Pictures of my new project, the Ouroboros Collection are forthcoming.

Hopefully soon, I'll find a place. I think I'll call it the Snake Gallery..

Peace.

Not drinking, turning 32, and laziness.

So, it was 8 months since I last got drunk. That is, until a couple of nights ago. On October 1st, I turned 32 years dumb and went out around 11pm. At around 7am, I went home feeling quite intoxicated and morose. Today is the 3rd and I still ain't right in the head. I struggled to motivate myself to go to the gym and finally did. I joined the Freret Street Boxing Gym a couple of months ago and have been hitting the weights pretty hard in preparation for another year of life. I think my body was ready for a dramatic change and has responded accordingly. I didn't realize I had some of the muscles now popping up in various places on my shoulders, back and chest.

Laurie is out of town for a couple of weeks and I'm starting to go a little crazy. I thought about taking a mini vacation and driving over to Texas to see family and friends but work has taken over my life for right now. I just bought a new truck and am currently looking for a boat. I hear there's some really good snorkling out by the oil rigs believe it or not. A buddy of mine just got back from a successful spear-fishing trip and that's been driving my search. Random thoughts and laziness are all I have this day. Peace.

Art on the Floor

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Damn, I'm getting good. My goal thus far has been to turn a basic construction idea into an artistic endeavor. Here's some words from Concrete Network:

"Stained concrete combines the best of both worlds: beauty and functionality. Concrete staining imparts a luxurious richness that can't be achieved by any other coloring medium while leaving behind permanent, flake-proof color. What's more, stain can even be applied to most existing concrete, making it an ideal solution for revitalizing lackluster surfaces. A concrete floor offers numerous options for interior rooms including nearly limitless designs, colors, and even health benefits. Concrete can be so uniquely designed or so naturally colored that it blends seamlessly with other elements in a room. Oftentimes, you don't even realize it's a concrete floor you're standing on..."

Next is portaits in concrete. Here's a slideshow of my latest job. (a condo in the Central Business District). This concrete floor was previously hidden by carpet. We started by cutting in a border and tiles. This was followed by a sprayable overlay. Then we blended a few acid stains together to get the colors and applied two coats of high gloss sealer to add depth and durability. Check out the results!

Turning Gray and the Food I Ate Yesterday.

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The air is cooling and blowing in from the Southwest this afternoon, reminding me of a day like today. Finally, a batch of perfect weather has slinked past Summers' guard dogs and made it's way into my arms. I'm breathing in deep and tongue kissing the gentle breeze as it wraps it's silky legs around me, grinding slow and passionatly against my Damn! What a nice day..

So... I'm starting to grow gray hair. I'd like to think I'd look quite fetching with a full white mop. Like Anderson Cooper, but not a douche. It's just a couple, but really? I haven't lived enough life for gray hair, so I've decided to step it up a little. There's tons of traveling that must be done. My company's steady growing but I've been putting off things until the "right time". That time is now. Expand! Then I can have other people run the company into the ground while I surf, money in hand, on the waves of sweat cascading from the brows of my underlings!

Since apparently, I'm on the verge of senility, I can now ramble on about trivial things, like what I ate yesterday. Here's a picture of it:



I think folks should take more time creating what they eat like we did in the days of old. There's something spiritual about taking care and pride in preparing what your carbon shell ingests. Even something as simple as a sandwich can be a work of art. The above picture was just a snack to give you an idea of my metabolism these days, so I pretty much hover between the kitchen and the bathroom. As an old man, I can never be too close to a toilet.

My hearing's been lacking as well. What?! Maybe it's not my hearing, but that I just don't care to hear what other people are saying to me.
Who's knows?
Shit, who cares?
I don't.
Anyways, I highly recommend these noggin-splitting headphones...



I can now enjoy all of my favorite waltzes with ear-bleeding satisfaction while sauntering about the public domain trying to remember things. They look real nice on me, especially when I'm smoking my pipe. Yep, I went all out and bought an old tabacco pipe to smoke out of while I reminisce about days gone past.

My creative juices have been dried up for a while now, but they're starting to trickle again like my wrinkly bladder. I haven't tried to write creatively in months until now and as you can see, I'm pretty dusty. It's something you have to force for a minute before it starts to flow; it's like using a semicolon; or passing a kidney stone. My fellow old'n moldies know what I mean, don't you boys!

My friend, Bobcat, just got out of rehab and plays a mean guitar. He'll be moving back in a week or so to start over so we'll be laying down some new tracks soon enough. I just to need impress on him the importance of expanding out from the blues a little since that's all he plays. All we need is a drummer, although Laurie can beat the djembe pretty damn good. I know a dude that can play the Hammond Organ that's sitting in the corner of my living room collecting dust. We can get an album put together and go on tour and...Well, heck, there I go rambling again.

Well friends, it's time for grandpa to go out back and stir the mulch. My worms need some attention and I figure I might as well get to know 'em since I'll be livin' with 'em one day. Tendin' to my garden is a favorite past time for this old buckaroo!
It's been 31 long years but I'm still kickin'!
Until next time....

June

Howdy Outer Space,

It's been a while since I've put any energy into this place, so I decided to take a couple of minutes to freshen up and post an update. I'm currently reading "Geek Love" by Katherine Dunn. I spotted it on a bookshelf in a bar and borrowed it. It's freakish and great so far.

On July 15th, my company will have its first birthday. I wonder how many gallons of sweat I've lost toiling under the fireball this past year to get to this point. I've lost some friends and burned some bridges along the way but learned a lot about myself and tons about running a business. My clientele list is growing and I've started landing some huge contracts. (For me, anyway.) Right now, I've got a contract for a $70,000 capital improvement project on a shopping center in my hands. I've never made this kind of money before. It's exciting. I wish I would've started sooner.

I don't regret the years I spent organizing, however. Those days and months really prepared me for my current endeavors. It taught me how to communicate with every type of person imaginable. Those years were also packed with adventures, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I think most of it is out of my system. The drugs, that is. I'm still addicted to every thing else. Those were some good times though, full of friends that hung around.

It's been four months since I last had a sip of alcohol. I thought it would be harder, given that I drank profusely for years, occasionally stopping to shower and brush my teeth or something. I don't even think about it unless I'm at a bar with friends, where usually I'll order a non-alcoholic beer to swig on. It looks and tastes like beer so my mind says "Close enough. Relax, buddy." Not really, but I have been enjoying the "Near Beer".

The recording studio is almost fully operational. There's just a few more gadgets to purchase including a new acoustic guitar. (A present to myself for completing the huge job we just started) Soon, I will be recording more songs and uploading them here to rest peacefully in cyberspace until the day comes when they are needed to pull mankind from the muck. They will sail into the atmosphere and recombine within the airwaves, unzipping hidden DNA and unlocking the purpose of mankind.

Until the first note is played a week or so from now, farewell.

P.S - Did I mention I'm also buying a boat? Yea. With a cabin. I'm tired of watching people sail off into the sunset from the shore. I will pierce that sunset before the year is through... Mark my words.


Collaboration and Swine Flu

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Swine flu? Really? It was only a matter of time. For millions of years, infectious diseases have passed from animal to animal. So what's the big deal? I heard that the fever can raise your temperature so high, it feals like you're bakin'! Get it? HA!

The Center for Disease Control said the symptoms of swine flu include fever, aches, and an uncontrollable desire to roll in the mud. The only known cure for Swine Flu has been found to be the liberal application of oinkment. One of these might also work...



Since we may be totally screwed on this one, prayer might be the only answer. Behold, the Patron Saint of Bacon!

Saint Anthony
Protector of pigs, hermits, gravediggers and epileptics.

Saint Anthony was heralded as a modest and courteous man. He lived for 20 years barricaded in an abandoned fort, having contact with people only when his admirers broke in. Known for healing skin diseases and inflammations, he is often depicted with a pig because pork fat was used as a treatment with similar results. Being identified with pigs led the swine herders to take him as their patron. For this reason, he has become the Patron Saint of Bacon.

This figure pictures him with a frying pan with two strips of crispy, delicious bacon.



Prayer to Assist with the Enjoyment of Quality Bacon:
O wonderous St. Anthony, please bless me with an abundance of quality bacon and grant me the patience and timing to properly fry each glorious strip. Amen.



In other news, my good friend Nick Thompson whom I met in Austin years ago, recently contacted me on Facebook. He's been living in Hawaii with his lovely wife and baby girl. He quickly convinced me to start an AOL IM or AIM account so we could share recorded tracks. Interesting that in my last post I mentioned getting back into recording. The synchronicities and manifestations never cease. So, we're planning on recording an album in outer space between New Orleans and Hawaii. Once we get the ball rolling, I'll probably fly out there since I've got a free place to stay. Round trip tickets are only around $550. I'm visiting Austin very soon as well. Some friends came in for Jazz Fest and their auras really made me miss it. So, if I don't die of pig flu, the future's looking bright. If it decides to become a pandemic, that's cool too. I ain't scared.

As Porky Pig would say: "Weebada-weebada-tha-tha-that's all folks!"

Writer's Block: Gone.

Well, I'm back in jury duty again. Only three more days this month and I'm done. Work has slowed a bit but is steady. Laurie decided to take a couple of months off (aka: she quit her job) to finish up her PhD in urban planning and health & human services. She'll be bringing in the big bucks soon.

It's been a year and fifteen days since I last wrote and recorded a song on this blog and I'm happy to report that the writer's block is over! I don't know exactly what happened, but yesterday, thoughts started pouring out of my head into my lap and onto the floorboard of my car. I had to pull over and wildly scratch them down on a piece of junk mail before they escaped into the atmosphere.

When I got home I picked up my guitar, tuned it to Open D, and ripped it up like never before. Something needs to be delivered. It's out there in the breeze. I don't know exactly what it is, but my renewed brain power is a sign that I should start recording again this week.

Last night, I invented several amazing things in my dreams. I wish I could remember what they were. I think my IQ is up to around 150 today. More to come.