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We are open 

And truthful,

Sometimes even in dishonesty 

Which bring out the clearest shades 

Otherwise we’d all be saints 

Standing rigid and stiff

Pristine from plaster

And unmoving 

Like plastic. 

But we are organic

And flowing,

And capricious,

And mutable. 

As you take steps away from the objects in sight,

It becomes clearly in pattern,

Like the stars which we’ve been walking away from for centuries,

But we can still see them bright in the night as if there is no obstruction,

And when we look around,

Every other star becomes clear and in order. 

Chaos is closest to the heart,

Which is the black hole,

The wrinkle in time,

The time traveler. 

The thing that sucks you up and brings you back

Like Big Bang. 

Musing Nude #3

While driving sometime ago, I had this urge to really dedicate a good portion of my waking time to study like college days outside of coffee houses and not cafe’s, smoking a pack of cigarettes and reading, outlining, discussing, and more discussing, then more discussing that tangent to any philosophy, though I claimed Existentialism. Study like sitting outside in what always seemed to be a California winter, drinking coffee and buzzing so high off of Caffine and debate, that dawn became what dusk meant for some.

and I reminisce,

Is there a way to adjectivate nostalgia?

Well so I picked up like 15 one dollar used books in the most marvelous used and new book store in downtown, If you’re in LA go to The Last Bookstore.and find the marvel that is stacked upon stacks within cracks, among some of the cracks, bless it be, because at least they know literature.

And just spent a 45 minute rampage looking for a working ball point pen, because you can’t beat the glide of the blood of the soul transferred on slates in sticky black, or royal blue stains priceless secrets to be made tangible.

My first class with myself is Science of Breath A Practical Guide By Swami Rama. Rudolph Ballentine, M.D., and Alan Hymes, M.D. The first chapter says, “Somewhere on the primordial earth, molecules randomly fell into place and life appeared.” and I think that my mental impotence has revived and the imagination is excited. I see the earth is the egg and some sort of sperm sprinkled upon us and the miracle of life manifests. YES! and an orgasm must have been involved and biology and big bang make so much sense.

$1.00 educations: Chance and reason and Dharma, and Existentialism
P.S. I didn’t find that pen, but the feel of graphite scratching the sheet has a different kind of satisfaction as well.

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We the Imaginators

We the Imaginators think up the fantastic and the scientists, they fall in love and bring form to the chimerical into beauteous light.
We the creators conjure the images of our mind, whilst the mad with their belief place in it the feelings from our heart.
We are not playing at anything divine.
We, the Imaginators, have a design.
We are inspiring life to dream beyond the day into that surreal place that exists in the nerve of our spine.
We put it down in words, in melodies, in pictures across the canvas for all to see.
Shout it out for all to hear, and if they don’t come?
Let us Whisper so they’ll stretch their necks and crowd in close because even if they don’t get it,
The appeal is enough to spark a curiosity and ignite in the future creators, the future magicians, the future Imaginators,
The passion to dare the impossible.
The spark will blaze in the crown of those who have the gun powder to make it go poof!
“Abracadabra!” And like that it is!
Bend the note in the 16th and then Replay it until it makes sense you’ll see.
Bend the note on the 16th and repeat it until it makes sense.
You’ll see the note bend on the 16th and repeat until it makes a new beat. You see they’ll all be singing it.
If it does not supply our bellies, let it feed our souls and sustain us with the endurance for us to fast and then create in that space where we can let go of the whining of the ego.
That place where magic comes when succumbing to the courage of our passions,
Stomping out the fears of our failures.
We the Imaginators, who flirt with the magicians, make change to the world.

20130223-011514.jpg

We the Imaginators

We the Imaginators think up the fantastic and the scientists, they fall in love and bring form to the chimerical into beauteous light.
We the creators conjure the images of our mind, whilst the mad with their belief place in it the feelings from our heart.
We are not playing at anything divine.
We, the Imaginators, have a design.
We are inspiring life to dream beyond the day into that surreal place that exists in the nerve of our spine.
We put it down in words, in melodies, in pictures across the canvas for all to see.
Shout it out for all to hear, and if they don’t come?
Let us Whisper so they’ll stretch their necks and crowd in close because even if they don’t get it,
The appeal is enough to spark a curiosity and ignite in the future creators, the future magicians, the future Imaginators,
The passion to dare the impossible.
The spark will blaze in the crown of those who have the gun powder to make it go poof!
“Abracadabra!” And like that it is!
Bend the note in the 16th and then Replay it until it makes sense you’ll see.
Bend the note on the 16th and repeat it until it makes sense.
You’ll see the note bend on the 16th and repeat until it makes a new beat. You see they’ll all be singing it.
If it does not supply our bellies, let it feed our souls and sustain us with the endurance for us to fast and then create in that space where we can let go of the whining of the ego.
That place where magic comes when succumbing to the courage of our passions,
Stomping out the fears of our failures.
We the Imaginators, who flirt with the magicians, make change to the world.

20130223-011514.jpg