burnt.

watchers in the woods.
big headed forest spirits keep a close eye on the stray sparks that fly around.
smokey the bear has no juice compared to that.
we blazed away into the evening,
and only a few massive moths threw themselves on the pyre.
i tossed in a few sentimental sacrifices as well,
and the flame tongues french kissed them all.....

i love the hot fire, ya'll.
aLOT.
we hung out until the embers were just little glow-berries,
and then had a verrry relaxed evening.

we saw a moose yesterday.
and a hummingbird this morning.
it occurs to me, 
in light of watching so much nature do it's thing up here:
wildlife doesn't really go that wild with life.
the woods seems indifferent. unconcerned, even.
mostly, animals just sorta geek around doin' what they do.
plants just grow up and out.
bugs just sorta creep about the place.
it doesn't really seem like they give a flyin' mutha-flip;
they just do what they do.
and it's enough.
THAT'S some keepin' it real  just-be dopeness, son.
they don't stress about finances,
they don't care about workin' late,
hell, when they have to poop,
they just drop those logs right then and there.
short of poopin' my pants,
i'm emulating the wild life today.
unconcerned with the inevitability of responsibility,
i'm putting my faith in the secret universal plan.
and going wild,
which is to say: i'm just doin' what i do,
and letting the chips fall where they may.
feral fiscal fanaticism,
manic masterpiece makiness,
cantankerous culinary combat,
phenomenal philological physicality......
i'm going to live as hard as ever, at everything.
harder, even.
because that's just what i do.
that movie check* will get got.
the art will get made.
the food will get cooked.
the books will get read.
*movie check means fattie boombattie amounts of loot, btw....(kevin smith taught me that)
life gets lived, ninjas.
whether it's water-babyishly weak-sauced or worthily warrior poetic depends entirely on you.
the big-ass earthbound moose mama and the flittery lightning-strike hummingbird.
big or small, fast or slow, you gotta do what you do.
today, you gotta go wild.
like a wily coyote or a sleeping wombat,
let nature influence your nature.
just be sure not to poop on the floor.


folk art. folk music. folk lore. folk life.
nothing brings it all together like a fire.
nothing brings a room together like lebowski's rug, though....
somewhere, an old man is snoring, because it's raining AND it's pouring.
looks like last night's dry wood enkindling was a perfectly-timed fuego festival.

calm down, that's NOT a brewski.
jeez.
so,
i have a plan for a berserker barbarian battle-beast banner.
most likely, it will be ready for the boston convention.
a trial run of the pattern is getting printed as soon as it stops downpouring.
it's got a skull, an eleven, wrenches, wheat, fire and lightning......
i'm thinkin' of putting one on the hood of my car.
gangster, son.  


i'm trying to maintain focus.
like a laser-guided lightningbolt of combustible catastrophe.
sometimes,
when i have too much to do at once,
i end up doing nothing.
but not today.
today,
i know where the wild things are.
they're right here.
live it up, b!tches,
like an untameable savage stormswept raging berserker barbarian battle-beast.

woodsly goodness.
watched over by the big action guardian spirits;
never quiet, never soft....