amber

the sun is an unceasing artist. values are exposed with a shout or otherwise gently adorned. why then does the spectrum divide? how are colors essential to the existence of a pine cone or lavender? it is widely understood that wavelength vs. light energy that is imposed upon human photoreceptor cells, place upon our perceptions a color. wonderful! however, how have i been so careless as to mystify my relationship with them? it is because i have allowed my conditioning and socialization to take reign on commonwealth metaphors. it is trying to renounce such Babylonian associative behavior but to do so may present a bond of mighty fidelity. perhaps in the quest for such unraveling one may begin deep admiration of quiet and wondrous ecosystems and it's inhabitants....the lily and the ladybug. perhaps one may find a new understanding of colors and that basic symbolism is an impossibility with each one. i surmise that division of colors will only lead to false answers or lack thereof. then we may presume that the idea of synergy and unity pay great respect to the true magic of colors and its glow may be witnessed in sublime undulations for those who behold with sincere curiosity.

leave the dust on the record

Styles are getting worse.
The older styles exude an unspoken class.
Out with the new, in with the old.

opposing forces are drawn together by equal behavior and circumstance

he fights everything head on and at full speed. oh how they grow so quickly. where may one find the reverse switch?

welcome sir dudley the titan from jupiter

I have acquired a new member into my clan. He is Sir Dudley of Jupiter. He is 6 weeks strong. He fashions a reverse tuxedo. He is a skilled hunter and possesses the strength of a goliath. He does not sleep, but waits for the next encounter. He is currently leveling up his fighting techniques and will soon champion the rank of general. I love him already.

cadbury misfire

how bout that dream machine,
and the rain gently laying its cheek
upon the sun's lap

or the mother pushing her kids in the shopping cart
pulling back and pushing forth on the speed bumps,
taking turns laughing

him over there on the wheelchair
racing down the parking lot
growling up a speed limit

and a hunchback from taipei
with a crossed wrist following him
while the world is played again

and ashy knees under overalls,
velcro or bunny rabbit
with a sugar stain just left of the lip

nano-pathogens

on creative passes:

capitalism is cunning.
it is the wiser and it is always twisting its mustache, hatching a plan.
it is a redneck coaxing the rabbit out of its hole
awaiting at the entrance with cruel intentions.
capitalism is a teenage harlot
that wants to fuck you tonight
and sneak out with your wallet while you're asleep dreaming about her.
it is persistent,
and will intimidate your ambition.
it will strike upon you as the sun upon a rooster atop a bluff,
drowning the dark with effulgent fiction
capitalism is the bell before a vaudeville boxing match,
and the dames segueing the next round.
capitalism is a parasite domesticating itself
in your portfolio like a kitschy ornament,
adapting, learning, and acting a chameleon.

（ ´_ゝ`)__Duck and cover ~~~

hark, an angel plays the maple drumset

This is a video assignment for a BFA art program. The time and love it asked for surpassed my predictions. Pre production took an excess of 35 hours, shooting took 12, and post took 6. Since I worked stag on this thing, you'll notice a few bugs and errors. Overall, I am quite pleased. It is dear to me because it's more of a biography than an assignment. I hope it doesn't suck for real.

PS: You might need to let it load first. The file is bigger than Kanye West's Ego. What's with that moe anyway? My cat could make better beats than him.

flip-book reanimation

My songs intend to be heart-pointed arrows but have become the muse of a stilt-waking circus juggler, wearing checkered pants and grin painted on his face.
My art is learning college words yet forgetting how to conjugate itself.
My kinetic moonwalking skills are hybernating.
My listening power is fierce.
My seedgrow technique is leveling up.

silverback gorrila vs. 300 molly ringwalds

I selfishly fantasize about having that moment....that something else. And i want this moment to occur in broad daylight, among the regular public, blossoming before them in all its splendor. I utterly CRAVE.....this moment and I want it thrust forth like a turbo-climactic denouement in a favorite all-time movie type moment. Yes, I can be singing at the top of my lungs and smiling at the same time throughout the whole number (if that's even possible). I can also be dancing upon a rooftop, parading around in a sharp tuxedo, or even twirling around a cane like it was a baton. I don't really need a half-a-million dollar camera to zoom in on me. But I do need people to join in on whatever the fuck it is i'm doing, and I would love love love it to be synchronized in such a fashion, that passersbye do point-and-awe when we flood the streets. I want it to be the way Sally moaned her brains out in that diner during lunch. Fuck man, maybe i'm just aching to scream at something and scare the living shit out of it. I'm not sure.

a leather briefcase at the trainstation

longing for the sycamore
and sap upon my brow
das maiden voyage
of supernovas,
and celestial playgrounds,
polaris in my see-saw
forth imagination binge,
like baron and duchess banquet platter
or a subterfuge
sypher my completeness
and spray it upon
your favorite brick
find everything to be found
in nothing that is missed
drums striking dervishly
a matador and his hat
is the gentleman and his pipe
on the trail of matters of fact