Emancipate.

Little outa place, bear with me here.




There once was a man from UCSB,
who's art project was vynilesque.
He taped it on down
To the Bike path, but found
In the morning it was gone like Gillespie.

But to his credit he did elicit,
A well timed photo-graphical visit.
The previous night
he alighted the fights
Of stairs, taking many pictures of it.

Now the lack of a day shot disappoints
him truly, but he shall anoint
the darkened shots with
a photomanip,
fixing the glow lacking loights.

Now some would oppose this decision
claiming it malignant derision.
But here I have learned
for a grade to be earned.
The art in selective revision.

Now for the next project comes wood.
The kind that you surely should
know composes trees,
that oft contain bees.
I found a dead one in my hood.

But while all this is good to know
it doesn't explain the loss of my flow.
My rhythm, upset
by this catastrophic event.
God dammit, I needed that toe.


So that is all of my troubles.
I hope not have busted your bubble.
But I'll stop being a nit.
By sayin',"And that's it"
P.S. Thanks again Des for pullin' me out'a the rubble.

Yarn.

I visited another snow at the CCS gallery.

Named ------- by -------. (To be filled in after I contact mah friend. Who did the damn show. Those were good chips...)

And it was all abuzz. But to bee in the moment, and ins(p)ect the sweet honey of the...

Okay I'll stop.

Wait no I won't.

They seem more "cute" then "horrible painful buzzing flying death" when they are like that.

But yeah, the yarn arrangements at the show were meant to be walked through and played with.

As the puns indicate, they reminded me of bees.

Little yellow buzzing receptacles of fuzzy entanglement.


Almost got a little too tangled up in a few of them. But I extricated myself in time.

Really helped to visualize the movement of unseen forces. Literally(for the wind that acted on the yarn) and figuratively(with the bee metaphor, and the invisible communicative forces that move real bees).


And that's it.