progress in progress.

i spent the yesterday readin',
listenin' to the black keys,
and, believe it or not,
painting.
and cuttin', and gluin', and tapin', and sharpie markin' too.
my barbarian battle-beast conjurer is slowly shapin' up.
i really don't know why i can't just paint a whole picture in one dimension,
on one background, on one canvas,
without mosaic puzzle pieces and layers and layers of cardboard.....
it's like sculpting a picture out of slices of shredded, skewered paper,
but without modgepodge and decoupage and crackle-laquer,
and whatever else the scrapbook moms use to get freaky with their own sh!t.
using jess's sh!tty, left-over, and spent brushes really helps the $0.50 hobby paints achieve their maximum crustiness.
i'm pretty sure that i make my recycled garbage art as a justification of my self.
if i can take the crappiest materials,
the lowest standards,
the crudest competence with a made-up medium,
and somehow still make somethin' that doesn't totally suck a set of hard full ones,
then maybe i can continue to hold out hope for my own ration of redemption?
i'm bettin' that if i can spin straw into pyrite, at least, if not real gold,
then maybe i can make my battle-beastliness more accessible to the finer folks at large...
can an ugly (inside and out), offensive (tangibly, audibly, aromatically),
shoddily constructed and poorly maintained, epic anti-authoritarian contrarian composer
still manage to win hearts and minds???
or merely break hearts, and burn bridges???
in my never-ending, rarely-resting crusade to bring the thunder,
all the way to eleven,
and just be dope,
i aim to find out....

after all, i choose the wrench.

and my hands have teeth.

of course, it's not only possible,
and in any event kinda probable,
that no matter how fancy, complicated,
and carefully crafted i assemble my words and pictures,
it's still all just trash.
then again,
one man's trash is another man's treasure;
nine minutes in the white mountainous woodsly goodness,
will seriously serve to illustrate that ol' sayin'.
I'M sayin'....
win or lose,
your favorite trashy treasurer is prepared to fight the good fight,
to the bitter end, an' that,
makin' moves, makin' art, makin' the magic happen,
until the doo-doo butter tsunami washes it's weak-sauce over me....

today is my homeboy jimmie knuckles 32nd birthday.
it's also a full moon.
lunatic werewolven bearded battle-bards represent, my ninjas...
wish my man a happy berfday, ya'll,
one full of hard-style poundin', and wishes come true.
(awwwwwwww)

my light burns brighter when you blow out the other candles,
never quiet, never soft....