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When the non-dominate dominates

Trawl

I have a no paint water down the drain policy and a no pharmaceutical medicine in my piss policy, for quite a few selfish reasons… but mostly because I like to eat fish. I don’t eat them very often, maybe once or twice a month, maybe less. When I start to feel really, really sad I know I have to go out and gobble a fish’s soul. And if it wasn’t for the fish I’ve consumed in my lifetime, I’d probably be totally soulless. The fish flesh tells me tales. It becomes part of who I am. I end up creating visuals that scuba divers recognise, but I’ve never seen. (Sea tubas apparently) The fish I gobbled recently was that big-eyed beauty also called blue-eye or blue-nose. I think it is the most gorgeous fish imaginable. And there it was in the shop, a precious rare catch. The shop attendant held it gently in his hands, remembering what the creature looked like before it was a slice of translucent almost ready to devour. It is so hard to know which fish when so much is wasted in by-catch. No one would waste blue-eye though, unless they had no taste or eyes, but in netting a prize fish other creatures get caught as well, some of which are protected species that people are legally not allowed to catch and eat.

But yes, I’m an absorber of creatures that live in my time-zone, but breathe a different state. They sustain me: barramundi, blue-eye cod, hoki, bream, mullet or snapper. No flake, the time of taking a bite out of the man-eater is gone. Shark gobble no more. It won’t make me feel better. http://overfishing.org/pages/guide_to_good_fish.php

Tinsycat meets Goldi

Sometimes little kittens find themselves in strange places.

Dragons well now, that’s a whole drifting story. They’re many and I think they vary more than kittens. And some are like kittens. For there are tinsy dragons too. But this one’s big Goldi. The creature is mostly into eating fruitcake and manicuring nails.

Tinsycat hadn’t even opened her eyes when she first made friends with this wingless dragon named Goldi.

But since that first meeting Tinsycat has decided she would one day like to be a big dragon too.

Goldi doesn’t know how to explain to Tinsy that kittens never grow up to be dragons.

Thought bubblings

Been working on connecting visual components with English. To me they’ve always been separate things. And no question, the visual comes first; I could always draw, just as I knew sound-sense. But English I had to learn. It’s an imposed communication skill. So, I’ve been thinking about what senses drive the words and how the thoughts are being triggered… Or if the external factors are actually more important than the body’s sensory equipment.
Then, questioning the reality of a situation when reality is a spit pocus.

And given that not every one hears voices, that is words inside or outside their head. Some might instead think in symbols.

And then some things, I don’t think really need words.

And yes, I really should try and save on paper more, but I really do love having a sketch book I can use anytime anywhere. It doesn’t bite into my eyes like the computer scream. And, I haven’t yet adjusted to the tablet… that and it being called a tablet.

Observations and excess

Listened to the thunder rumbling, cracking, barking a double-bass drum of sardonic laughter in a summer storm that hit my central senses like the best played electric instrument in total surround sound.

Then there was Kaki King. Top fret playing, atmospheric dreaming.

Saw a magic sunset and a four-leaf clover. Didn’t think enough to take a picture.

Then, found my block surrounded by trolleys and got my camera out. They’re not usually there. Maybe I’m imagining things. But they’re not usually there, I’m fairly sure. And while none of them spoke to me, I could see they were up to things. Don’t want to encourage them any further, but here they are, up to trouble, looking for trouble trolls hanging round the block.

People think you’re crazy person now. Don’t talk to crazy person. Poor crazxy person. Keep distance fro m cxzy person. Feel sorry for crxy crank. Poor poor. You look troubled…
You know what the trouble with you is…
I don’t want any trouble but, you get what’s coming.
I won’t trouble you anymore
Don’t trouble yourself.
The trouble is your troubles.
Double trouble, triple trouble, quadruple trouble…
These are troubled times
You’re just trouble aren’t you?
I don’t go looking for trouble
I think I’ve got into enough trouble all ready, I don’t want more.
Trouble follows you everywhere
Life is good. It’s never been so perfect. Trouble must be around the corner… waiting…

Don't worry, I'm not in trouble.

You're not in trouble are you?

Well, stop playing it. This is a blag spot about my blart.

Trolley’s last words

This is all my fault of course. If I’d got up a little earlier and headed in the right direction. If I’d eaten breakfast. If I had stopped thinking about shit and criticising it, then, I would’ve known what was going to happen to this poor creature and I would’ve made sure I got it to safety…
No, get it right, I don’t support industries that have financial links with petroleum based organisations, if I can help it. Their trolleys can all die. Ha ha ha. Um… unless it is really late and I’m desperate for food and there’s no other shop open.
Actually, I’m not sure what to think about this one. But I’m certainly not going to carry the troll home like it was demanding. Fck that. Let it rot in the gutter. Serve it right for being born to be a slave to a company that supports GM and nanotech food products. So what if it is helpless and chained into service. So what I say. It should find some way to fight if it really wants to be free, (unless it’s into the whole masochist thing).
Oh, maybe that was it. This poor trolley was trying to escape and that’s when it happened… ah. Oh dear well, poor thing. Hmm. Too bad huh. Anyway, I’m not a trolley and I don’t use them, so I don’t have to concern myself with why some vehicle crushed the thing in the gutter. End of story.

http://www.mindfreedom.org/shield/introduction-to-mindfreedom-shield
http://www.kqed.org/w/hope/involuntarytreatment.html#

Minimalism

A friend recently said to me, “Your paintings are too detailed. People can’t be bothered looking at details.”

The want to institutionalise art like it is a mad thing that needs to be tamed, like a garden that is “over grown”, making it like something that is already known. Art is something that can be shown, but to make it taut and tense, to me, just doesn’t make sense. The age of minimalism has had its daze, let our gardens grow wild and let’s get lost in paintings which have – like the (now forbidden) campfire, that – forever gaze.

Well, it’s good to have an aim. Very recent painting, (working title: Visitors from the sea) still wet and probably needs a bit more detailing, I think. And, while I don’t want people to look directly at my exterior for too long, it gives me pleasure to have others scrutinize my artwork. So please get lost:)