I have a vision.
An art project involving ice.
Using special pans made by me.
Filled and left in the freezer.
An indeterminate amount of time later, turn out the pan onto a solid background.
The molds create shadows and the ice has striations.
Patterns form and change as time passes.
Pictures in different light.
So many angles.
Time lapse video of melting process.
Large scale projects possible.
Sunlight moving across the structure.
People come for miles to watch.A tribute to entropy.
Nothing but a pile of mud.
Surrounded by footprints.
Category Archives: Art
Strongly Worded Poem to Steve Cohen
Dear Congressman
Driving down the street
I witnessed a most horrific thing.
Not sure if you know about this,
Given the ails of our once great nation.
A small trifle, about some lost souls.
Pardon my shock
I believed the barbaric ritual
Of vigilante dissatisfaction
Fell out of style, like
Wife-beating and electroshock therapy.
Needlessly inflammatory attacks
Implying terrible things
At the entrance of businesses.
dedicated to the care of ladies
and all their parts.
(I’ll remind you, son
All women are ladies.)
The words they use
In the clever URLs
Or loosely rhymed phrases
MURDER
WRONG
KILLER
I don’t blame the words. Never do.
I’m concerned for these poor zealots
Standing in the cold
In the heat
In the wind
In the rain
Not in the snow.
Memphis shuts down when it snows.
As a registered voter, I wonder
Isn’t there something we can do?
Let’s do them a favor. Be humane.
Help end a pointless poster board vigil
Come up with some legalese way
To curb this stark blind spot
In the tentative American agreement
To agree to disagree.
Frankly
I’m appalled that we still ALLOW
This sort of bullying in the streets
of this once-beautiful city.
I, like King, have a dream that one day
Intolerant people will shut the fuck up
And mind their own damn business.
Judged on content of character
and found lacking
In public decency, at least.
I apologize.
My opinions don’t fit into a #.
As a life-long citizen, I’m concerned.
What if a child passing by sees these gangs
Of pamphlet-weilding soul sucking saviors
And accidentally believes them?
Don’t go in there Mommy. They are murderers.
It’s okay. I’m here for a yearly checkup with a doctor to make sure I stay healthy.
No murderers?
No dear.
Why did that sign say the doctors are murderers?
Because freedom of speech is legal.
So, I get to say whatever I want?
No, dear.
Why not?
You have a sense of empathy.
Oh, good.
Love Unrequisitioned
I am going to die without ever telling him how I feel.
That’s one satisfaction I can savor.
Despite all my keening and moping
And the assumed entanglement that ensues.
I can carry this gift with me to the grave.
Clutching my precious affection like rags to my body
Wishing my flesh held the power of your arms
Seeking release in approval
Or settling for remorse.
Toucha Toucha Touch Me
I’m stuck in a romantic fantasy.
I keep imagining there’s someone out there meant for me. I feel a song inside of me that needs and answer. A call lacking it’s response. A piece missing its puzzle.
I want someone that craves the feel of my soft skin as sorely as I need their touch. I want to share a meaningful glance with someone every day.
I can feel the same thing in strangers. Like a vibration. Usually, it’s a hum so imperceptible the noise of daily life drowns out any trace. When I’m near some people, special people, I can sense a warm aura. A 360° degree smile.
I keep this little fantasy on a small, silver chain. Someone, someday will hear the song inside me. And then I won’t be alone anymore.
Baby’s First Refraction
I played with my new camera last night.
Un folding
Spirals, strings, stress, waves
THE WAVES WAVES
Have you see this?
THIS RIGHT HERE.
It’s what I do every day.
Every.
Fucking.
Day.
I dare you. I D-Motherfucking AIR YOU to see me.
SEE THIS.
Blue motherfucking hair.
Today I…
took my medicine
went to my job
emptied the back seat of my car
did my laundry
cleaned my bathroom
swept
increased satellite coverage to all of Africa
ate a fried egg on a bacon cheeseburger
took my vitamins
spoke with a distant friend
enjoyed some chocolate cheesecake
shared my day with you.
Unfiltered
Heavy and sweet
Syruping my throat
Bubbling my words
I croak with the effort
Attempting to make
An eloquent scene
Matching the feeling
My heart exudes
Chances to stare
Chalked up to cliche
Advantage, honor code.
The most glaring gaps
Are the simplest thing
Moments not shared
Sushi not eaten.
Shows not binged
Impulses not rewarded.
What hurts run deeper.
Habits accounted for
Mutually budgeted time
Comfortable ideologies
Pets only we share.
I consume less alone.
An unforeseen loss
Interest in longevity.
Lies always exist
Worming around corpses
Of first impressions.
Creating space inside
Filled with love, or pride.
Glaring ego glimmering
Over a tundra of feelings.
Freedom and expression
Can be mutually exclusive.
Dusting
Today I sat down to digest.
High and low.
Gomukhasana.
Rumination.
Change in seasons.
Freshness of scars
recently healing.
Burning light waiting
rising and setting.
Always ready.
Catch me sleeping.
Timing is crucial,
reflexes sharp.
Motivated by delusion
Plan B assurance.
Plan A: yoga
Don’t limit scope.
At least, until,
Given a good reason.
The scariest part
of this whole thing
is that it seems
to be working
for me.