Shoreline

Electric build up and gwtfing

I have reasons to believe that everything you do is more than something else that we’ve gotten into. I have all these things inside of me that raise-up the ride and take themselves on the streams that gaze at meaning where laws wake and begin the dreams you can’t fake. That’s the hope there. I want that. I want this and your reckoning in there, so it can be shown that automatic is a nuance of reasoning. It isn’t just a witch’s seasoning.
With you, there is a flow through. I can see how things are being marked down and made to stretch at a point which someone graved. And you’re aching with needs that don’t warrant a closure for any other reason than that something too strong is going to ruin the ribbon that warms the ways we share.
[That’s an automatic write. It flows in a rhythmic tap of keys without a point of pause between: it’s also what I call gwtfing.]

To create, I am listening to what is going on in the external world, feeling and sensing the differences, similarities and how they all add up. That is where the automatic arrives. And then must be somewhat edited, so it has a place with which to play that has something to anchor it and make it relevant to current understanding.

It is often the affirmation of society that often makes a project worthwhile continuing. However, it can take a while to sort out a way to present it so that it meets the needs in society.

Art inspires and brings out a new ideas in many fields. So it is important to be confronting and seemingly irrelevant at first. Because that’s what it is to be looking at a current which has not yet had its story told and sold. The current never disappears. It’s always there if you want to listen and tap in. And the results of sensing these electro-magnetics, will depend on who you are, where you are, and what is surrounding you.

Smart omen

When things start appearing...

Geothermal

http://www.ozenergy.net/energy/geothermal.html

Bit of history: Painting in teen years

I was given my great-grandfather’s oil paints when I was twelve. They were the most amazing pigments. Windsor and Newton, but early last century when paints were made with such beauty. Of course, they were really toxic too… but that was back then when people were spraying their hair daily with CFC propelled glue.

Anyhow, it was the best. When I painted I could get things out of my head and onto the canvas. Things that cluttered in there and I wasn’t allowed to talk about without seeming ridiculous, or things that just didn’t make sense to me. Painting these

thoughts, it was a meditation where I could reach inside myself and put a label to what didn’t make sense to me.

While I haven’t got pictures of all my artwork, here are the canvases have been kept by my parents. These are more than half a lifetime ago teen years, painting in the most extravagant oil pigments, not even knowing how I would never be able to buy the like again.

Dumpster diving on planet 20
Environmental art: Finding bits of scrap wood to cut and make a frame, but it’s actually much easier to find a frame lying around the street or a dirty old print on a nice bit of dead tree. And thinks me, hmm… let’s stretch a canvas on it and paint.
The water I use in my paints I can then use in paper mash to put on scraps of other things. And those plastics are water proof so they’re good for keeping paint in, also we make them into “excavation vases” incorporating all those intriguing wires and chips that go into computers.