"Later than Sooner" (Issue 1) HXH Quarterly by House of Hayes

Page 1




Letter from the editor: Fuuuck. We’ve been working on this for such a long time. Sorry about that, we got so excited about the content sperm hitting the idea egg that we kind of overlooked the months of incubation and long labor. But it’s finally here and we can now share this wailing child with you and the universe in a quarterly fashion for years to come. Besides waiting for the bun in the oven to bake, we did get really good and robbed at the beginning of August which was the original approximation for this release. I don’t want to make too much of an excuse for us in that regard because although they took most everything of much monetary value from us, the delays have been mostly unrelated. Of course, we had to shift some things around, but that is also unrelated to our otherwise great fortune in having all of these wonderful artists and musicians take time out of their exciting lives and careers to have a conversation with us. But wait, you might not even know “us”. I’ve been saying “we”, because my sister Bad Liz Hayes and I started House of Hayes together. And we also started this magazine together. However, as the editor, I am who has to finish the magazine and so this letter addressing the “Later than Sooner” issue has ultimately fallen on my shoulders. House of Hayes, in its most tangible sense, became a music venue, art gallery, and home for two in Philly, USA, but it began as an online catalog of experiences- a record of live music, art and travel. We created a lookbook from our favorite parts of the journey up to that point and had our launch party in April of 2011. The intention was that we would eventually create and maintain a longer form of printed media, so if you’re familiar with pokemon evolution, this issue would be the Charmeleon and the lookbook would have been our little Charmander. One day, we will grow into a Charizard, which will be really cool and scary. Hopefully, whoever owns the rights to pokemon doesn’t sue us for saying that, because this is not that great of an idea for turning into a big money operation. Luckily, that is not the goal. We want to inspire dialogue as well as new creations. We are both artists that make it work...doing what it takes to keep joy, music, and art in our lives in the greatest quality and quantity possible, while also continuing to develop interesting ways to share these passions with you. House of Hayes has evolved to these different platforms primarily by willpower and curiousity, with time and energy as the most utilized resource...and then also praying that enough people would go to Silk City for brunch on the weekend so Liz could front the rent cash because I kept running out of money while quitting art school for the third time. But that’s all old news and pretty soon, this will be too If I don’t finish this magazine right now. To the right...you will find our masthead. Most mastheads look a lot more like a list, because that means that there is a staff of people that have worked on it, but because our staff is just me and Liz so far-that’s a photo of us when we were little. We were serving dinner to our family in our backyard. You have to start somewhere and we feel privileged to say that everything that’s in this issue is “bad as a motherfucker”. Miles Davis said that a lot about anything really awesome. Here’s to only getting badder.

Maggie Hayes



L-R from Top: Ryan Lynn of John the Conqueror performing at House of Hayes, Billionaire Boys Club swag at HxH, DJ Dog Dick performing at HxH 2nd row: Jourdan Washington, Bad Liz and a friend at the Pool Hall in Atlanta, Cage the Elephant at Hangout Music Festival, Courtyard at HxH, Bottom row: DJ Baby Eagle (Dave Kloss) and 40 oz of gold, House of Hayes sisters Maggie and Liz and DJ PHISH (Matt Fishman), load-in at HxH


(all photos shown here are polaroids taken by Maggie Hayes except for where pictured on left page bottom center which was taken by Tayyib Smith)

L-R from top: RZA at Bonnaroo, Dries Van Dijick backstage at Bonnaroo, Ursa Minor studio in Providence, RI, 2nd row: Radiohead gear from above, Helado Negro at Glasslands, Jon Philpot, Helado Negro (Roberto Lange) and Jason Treammell in NYC Bottom: K’naan and Rayzak at Ursa Minor Studio, Platinum Outkast record in Stankonia Studios, Atlanta, GA, Gery Clark, Jr. at Hangout Music Festival


yis goodwin is nosego and this is Nosego’s house of hayes mural

“come on, i just


wanna paint.”

besides beng an incredible artist, Yis is one of the best human beings around and he has been making a very good habit of creating his fantastically imaginative characters on the streets and in galleries internationally.

Luckily for us, he’s a philly kid and brought a lot of smiles to the neighborhood when he painted our bay door with this guy that we nicknamed “chef the summertime bear”.


you’re at the right place.


Welcome to the house of hayes


table of C ten Bear America Records page 38

Kid Creature page 82

“Remind Me to Forget� page 88

Let Freedia Come Through page 16


A Portrait of the Growlers page 74

nts

Kait and Kat in the Yard page 56

Marok page 63

KALOS page 103

DJ Sylo page 92

This is (a Small Slice of) The Big Easy page 22

Magic Death Sounds page 46

G. Love (Garrett Dutton) page 90


“ c o o l . ”

dan auerbach of the black keys said this when I told him I was looking forward to seeing him play music. I’m good-looking and he defiinitely didn’t care about that . . . he cares about the blues.


“ c o o l . ” this is a picture of a fan. you probably don’t care about this fan, The people in this sweaty room did.

take time to deeply explore your interests and determine what Is important to you, what you care about, and what makes you come alive. then, always Be as close to that as possible. You

will

not

find

advertisements

in

this

issue.



big freedia (Freddie Ross) is a force of nature. that doesn’t take long to recognize. just seconds into watching her music videos, you hear the distinctive rapid-fire commands and frenetic beats that define the genre and it is positively undeniable.

Inter

view

by M a

ggie

Haye

s/P

hoto

already a mainstay of the bounce scene in new Orleans for many years- freedia and other performers like katey red and sissy nobby were temporarily Displaced by hurricane katrina and began performing in other areas. while this greatly helped to spread the sound beyond the region, The recent influence that the genre has had on mainstream artists and producers is more likely to blame for making “twerking” a part of your mom’s vocabulary (not to mention her youtube uploads),

s by

Liz H

ayes

between Touring relentlessly and debuting a new reality show on Fuse TV...freedia is reaching wider audiences than ever with the gospel of bounce. she coined being called the “queen Diva” herself, but she could also be the queen of crossover, having appeared as an opening act for surprising headliners like Matt & Kim and the Postal Service, along with more obvious associate acts like galactic. she even broke a guiness world record for gathering the largest number of simultaneous twerkers. We agree... the more asses shaking, the better. just remember:

“It’s in the hipsnot in the knees.”


HxH: FIRST THINGS FIRST,.. WHAT’S THE BEST BREAKFAST JOINT IN NEW ORLEANS? aBig freedia: OH, THE BEST BREAKFAST JOINT...BIG FREEDIA’S HOUSE... YOU WILL DEFINITELY ENJOY A BIG FREEDIA BREAKFAST IF YOU CAME TO NEW ORLEANS. HxH: HOMEMADE BISCUITS? aF: OH YEAH, GRITS, ALL THE INGREDIENTS TO GO WITH IT. HxH: WE’RE FROM GEORGIA, WE’RE TRANSPLANTS TO PHILLY, SO I FEEL YA ON THAT FOR SURE...WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST JOB? af: MY FIRST JOB WAS WORKING AT BURGER KING. .. HxH:...HOW WAS THAT? af: IT WAS FUN, BECAUSE I BECAME A SHIFT MANAGER. AND IT WAS VERY FUN IN HIGH SCHOOL. YOU KNOW? I WAS YOUNG AND I WAS TrYIN TO GET MONEY,.. SO IT WAS VERY FUN. Hxh: THAT’S THE WAY TO GO. af: YES INDEED, ALWAYS WAS HUSTLIN BABY. hxH: AND SO WHAT ARE YOUR JOBS NOW? ...BECAUSE I KNOW YOU’RE A MULTI-TALENTED iNDIVIDUAL.... af: YEAH, OF COURSE, I’M AN ARTIST, AND I PERFORM A LOT. AND THEN I ALSO USE MY ART IN THE FORM OF DECORATING. I STILL DO MY DECORATING AND INTERIOR DESIGN, IN WEDDINGS, WHATEVER IT IS, THAT KIND OF THING. hxh: AND HOW OFTEN ARE YOU ABLE TO DO THAT WITH BEING ON THE ROAD SO MUCH? af: IT’S BEEN ROUGH LATELY,.. BUT AS SOON AS I GET A CHANCE TO GO BACK TO NEW ORLEANS, SOMEBODY’S ALWAYS CALLING FOR A JOB, SO I GET TO TOUCH IT EVERY TIME I GET HOME.


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ay down w e h t l l a it s e k a the Queen diva e id tootie sh gs on al m or rf pe B. e e ova skip and stephi m Ga s er he barbary nc t t da a a e di g ee ta fr s : m o fr d right page crow


ART IS.... xzt UNIQUE. MUSIC IS... xzt LIFE-CHANGING. LOVE IS... xzt DEEP. BEAUTY IS... xzt IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER. KANYE WEST Is... xzt HOT! MONEY IS... xzt TO BE MADE. A GOOD MAN IS... xzt HARD TO FIND. A GOOD ASS IS... xzt BEYONCE. ROCK N ROLL IS... xzt THROUGH THE SOUL. LIQUOR IS... xzt TO GET DRUNK. POWER IS.... xzt BIG FREEDIA, THE QUEEN DIVA,..

you best to believe her.


thi s t he a

small

i s slice


photos

in

this

feature

sno

of

hansen’s

s

are

by

bliz

Maggie

Hayes

except

since

where

credited

1939


a

book

store

we

could

walk

to

but

don’t

remember

the

name

of

/

photo

by

Liz

hayes


alive

with

color


mardi

gras

indians

at

the

jazzfest

fairgrounds


Mr.

Okra’s

produce

truck


max

mckenna

royal

street

house


royal

living

street

room

/

photo

windows

by

Liz

hayes


we

could

go

to

this

roof,

there’s

a

pool

there

that

you

would

like


looking

up


mumford at

and apple

sons’ barrel

marcus bar

after

mumford the

and railroad

ted revival

dwane tour


after

the

party

is

the

after

party

is

the

after

party,

frenchmen

street


mumford and sons’ nick etwell, edward sharpe and the magnetic zeroes’ alexander ebert along with satchmo, mishel prada, and liz


stating

/

eating

the

obvious.

beignets

and

chicory

coffee

at

cafe

du

monde


under the streetlights. edward sharpe and the magnetic zeroes’ stewart cole and christian letts

long

live

the

brass.

ephraim

owens,

stewart

cole,

and

nick

etwell


til

you

and

then

see

back

the

to

sun

breakfast.


means fucking business.


.

Max Mckenna is the creative director of bear America Records and a freelance designer in new orleans, la. I met max on the playground at maggie’s morning school in savannah, georgia. I mention this because it’s important to know that he’s always been cooler than everyone. at least since he was five. and by 11, he was listening to nofx and writing stories about zen buddhism. Now he is a connoisseur of fine whiskey, fine art, and fine living. we asked max a few questions about his current endeavours. i hope he doesn’t hate this font. h x h: What is Bear America Records? M m: Bear America Records is an art machine comprised of myself, brother-sister duo Morgan and Chad Carson and David Hart. It is a recording studio, publishing agency and design studio...I make things to look at to accompany the sounds. The four of us and Percy Jane (Morgan’s black labrador retriever) make up BAR. h x h: What does it mean? m m: It means fucking business is what it means. h x h: Why New Orleans? m m: Those words don’t make sense together. There was never a doubt in my mind I would live here at some point. It is the most diverse, culturally-rich city in the country. Everyone who is anyone loves New Orleans. I will always have a deep love and reverence for this incredible place.


h x h: How did you get involved with Kid Carsons and this project?

h x h: what’s next for you as far as graphic design?

m m: I met Chad Carson five years ago when I moved down to New Orleans. We met at Tipitina’s and bonded over a love of standing on tall things. Shortly thereafter I met David Hart whom was living with Chad at the time. Then I met Morgan Carson just afterwards. Being good friends we kept in close contact over the years. I was unexpectedly uprooted from my apartment in the French Quarter and had no place to live with five days to move out. With an open bedroom at the Kid Carsons’ house, Chad texted Morgan the fateful text “Can Max crash here for a week or two?” And two years later, I am still in the same bedroom. We all mesh really well, have different specializations and skills, and push each other constantly. After living together for a few months, we decided to stop talking about it and make it a reality. And now “it” is BAR, a reality with a promising future.

m m: I am currently still the creative director of BAR, as well as a freelance designer in New Orleans. I have a lot left to learn and am hungry to discover more. The next move will most likely be out west to California or Oregon. But I am keeping my options open and trying to create effective, beautiful design and making the world a more aesthetically pleasing place, in the mean time.

h x h: Is music or visual art more important to you?

m m: Music holds a powerful mystique to me, as I am not a musician. It plays such a pivotal role in everything that I do - how I feel, how I work, how I party, how I live. Visual art IS my life though, my bread and butter. I am immersed in it at every moment of every day. Deciphering visual expression, intention and technique is something I instinctively do, whether I am at a museum, walking down the street or watching a h x h: Do you enjoy tour life? movie. To sum it up: Visual arts and music are my mac’ n cheese. m m: Tour life is awesome, The visual art is the pasta, the excruciatingly exhausting but such sustenance, the base, and music is a good time. I went on tour last the cheesy goodness that makes it summer with TKC as their stand not just a bowl of noodles, but a in Manager. We did something like delectable meal. 23 shows in 26 days from the Gulf Coast, up the Southeast, into Philly, h x h: who are some artists we then back down. And when I say should know about? “we did,” I mean I entertained the band for 26 days, they did all of m m: Toy Soldiers, WB Givens, Jordan the work. Hull, YOUNG & SICK, Benzel, Hurray For The Riff Raff, and Sam Doores h x h: Favorite/least favorite thing and The Tumbleweeds. about touring? h x h: Favorite venue/gallery/ M M: space in NOLA? Favorite: Reveling in our com mon love of fried chicken and van life m m: “One Eyed Jacks” is my favorite Least: Regular gas stations instead venue, “G” is my favorite gallery, of truck stops. Truck stops, or no “Brothers Three Bar and Lounge” is stops. my favorite space.


ILLUSTRATION/DESIGN BY MAX MCKENNA


what’s the best way to get over a creative block?


Yelling, screaming, biting, crying, hating, laughing, drawing, yanking, eating, broadening, tracing, scribbling, smoking, twisting, drinking, listing, categorizing, taking, reminiscing, organizing, looking, typing random words, snarling, smiling, frowning, doubting, hoping, hopping, loathing, fearing, misconceiving, reassessing, starting over, purposely entangling myself into a web of information, listening, flipping through books really fast, using knives for things, lighting things on fire, wrapping, rapping, repping, listening to gangster shit, chugging water


ILLUSTRATION/DESIGN BY MAX MCKENNA


HXH: Most difficult aspect of doing work with Bear America? MM: Crazy hours. We have so many ideas, and there’s just never enough time to get everything done while normal people do. We set high goals and higher standards for everything we produce, so sleep and downtime are often put on the back burner, while creative initiative is always top priority. The only rule at the BAR house is that you can never curtail anyone’s creativity, no matter how late or loud it may be. If you have an idea, you run with it, and it is nobody’s business to tell you otherwise.

HXH: Where do you see Bear America HXH: Best breakfast spot? going in the long run? MM: Any place with crispy bacon MM: To the moon, literally. We will HXH: What is your specialty? the the first space studio. BAR will MM: Satirical nick-naming continue to perfect its craft. The studio is a never ending project, with more instruments and space HXH: Vice of choice? MM: Cynicism in constant demand. We are also still young, meaning we have a long HXH: Greatest love? way to go before we master our disciplines. I am not sure exactly MM: Abandoned buildings where BAR is heading, but I know it will end up somewhere great. HXH: Greatest fear? MM: Pickles HXH: Greatest accomplishment? MM: Sam’s club membership


_iRL: {in ReAL

LiFE


“I LovE

The journey began in early 2010 when Magic Death Sounds founder, Dylan Charles Deimler (of Burnt Cabins and Fabric Fins) came to his eventual successor, Dan Kaufman (formerly Kid Salamander, now Awe Fox/Screamin Dan Kaufman), with a mission to put people’s music out into the world. “It’s important for people to realize that music is more than something that goes out of your laptop speakers and into your ears. It’s important to be able to hold it in your hands and look at it.”-DK

MusIc So after spending most of their initial capital to release an Arches/Banned Books 400-edition split 10-inch record, their focus quickly shifted to vinyl’s cheaper little sister; cassette tapes. MDS also became a physical entity in November of 2010 when the two put on the first live showcase of artists on the label at the Philadelphia Mausoleum of Contemporary Art (PhilaMOCA). Deimler later moved to the woods of Burnt Cabins, PA to continue making music and start an organic farming operation, Waldsfeld Produce, leaving the MDS legacy to Dan. While Magic Death Sounds remains focused on the production and release of tapes, the label grew a second head called Magic Death Gang, which is the show throwing/event planning/band booking side of things. Aside from Dan, the current Magic Death lineup includes Ross Brubeck (Exar Kun), Ed Burke (Phonographiq), Tony Montagnaro (Tony Mont/Tony Chron for Chronic), Gabriel Guerrera (Tygerstrype), Alden Towler (also of Tygerstrype), Zane Alexander Kanevsky (formerly Azbeztoz, now in Banned Books), Theodore J Marshall (AZTC), Kyle Lambert (formerly Boy Scout of America, now Lil ‘Merica), Emily Ackerman (hostess of parties/decorator of stages), and Mike Dunican (go-to security guy).

moRe tHe tHan iNtER N et.” Dan Kaufman

HH: So Dan, why Philadelphia? DK: I grew up very nearby and even when I was still in New Jersey I was very involved with local music. So coming over here it was only natural to continue working with local music. I do have a hunger to see the world and I’ve traveled a bit but I think that Philly is great and a lot of people don’t know that. HH: What is your greatest love? DK: The internet. That’s not even true. I wanna say music. Music is the most important thing in our lives because it encompasses so much, all these emotions. Music is definitely my greatest love and it always has been. I love music more than the internet.


“cON- \ stAnT

HH: What is your greatest fear? DK: My greatest fear is that I won’t be able to provide for a family. Sometimes I just think about my future and wonder if I meet someone that I want to marry, am I going to be able to be a provider for this person and for our kids? Sometimes I have to break out of the worry and force confidence and keep doing what I’m doing and just know that everything’s gonna be cool. HH: Do you prefer playing a show or throwing a show? DK: Both are things I still get nervous about. I don’t really consider myself a musician or performer. I make music and I have played shows but mainly just because other people ask me to. Like an opening spot for a weird noise guy or something. It takes me a while to get into the right mindset to play a show. But with throwing shows I can kind of remain behind the scenes in a sort of managerial position. I like organizing. I feel like an artist but more of a behindthe-scenes artist. I’ve always been confused by that because I’m a Leo, so everyone’s like “You wanna be the center of attention” but I’m actually a Leo-Virgo cusp. It’s my mother’s side, the Virgo part.

eLev-

HH: What is the most difficult aspect of doing work with Magic Death Sounds? DK: I would say just getting everyone in the same room. Also just trying to define what it is and what we’re doing. We’re all just kind of using it to do what we want to do. I’m doing tapes, Tony’s really into having bands come through Philly and throwing shows. I’m more about the tapes, I think its really important that I focus on that heavily because that’s what this started as.

A -

HH: Where do you see MDS going in the long run? DK: Personally I hope that eventually I’ll be able to turn this into a real production. Have a real office with some people working for me, maybe some interns. The motto we kind of made up as a joke is “Constant Elevation.” I want to be doing the same thing we’re doing now just bigger. We don’t have a specific 5-year plan or some shit. We’re just taking the ball, running it across the field- that’s a football reference- just trying to see how far we can get. HH: Who are some artists we should know about? DK: The freshest in my mind is Laser Background. I actually woke up to the album he’s working on. In my sleep, my hand flew under my computer and I pressed play so I woke up hearing it, which is always magic...

TION”


Dan setting the record str8...................or something cereal is................................................gross/ not punk tattoos are.............................................awesome/ punk hunch punch is...........pass/ what is that?/ not philly hunter s. thompson is..............................................dead pennsylvania is...beautiful/ huge/ never been there crime is..............................................................organized rainbows are..................science/ overrated/ natural

/

especially

the B L U E PART IS INVI SI- BLE


self- portraits by ross brubeck, 2013


Ross Brubeck is an artist of many hats. He hooked up with DC-based Julian Comanda in April of 2013 to form dual bass heavy metal band, Exar Kun. He joined Reptar on tour for a couple of years beginning in September of 2010 and directed several of their music videos including “Rain Bounce” and “Blastoff.” He also toured with Joe Walsh in 2011 into the fall of 2012. He, along with Max Kochinke and fellow MDS member Tony Montagnero, hosted music, art, and performance showcases at their former DIY space/home, Brenda. Beyond that, he’s also an accomplished photographer, director, designer, illustrator, writer, and performance artist. He has a solo show coming up in April entitled “Hunger Cliff.”

“I maDe

HH: Ross, what would you say is your role in MDS? RB: Right now I think everybody’s got just about the same role...Everyone is basically just a participant. It was initially Dan’s project...slowly, more and more of us got involved in the planning aspect of everything. My foot in the door was designing posters for The Glow, a party Dan throws every month at the Barbary. Actually, my first interaction with the label itself was releasing my audiobook, which I did October of 2012. God, that was a long time ago. But if there’s one thing I’m regularly responsible for it’s visual stuff. I made a letterhead. I made a promo video. I do digital design work here and there.

a

HH: Do you send a lot of letters out? RB: No. Well, there was probably just the one we sent out. It was actually just last week and I designed the letterhead like four months ago... HH: Do you have another audiobook coming out? RB: Yeah, I have the cases for it over there. It’s all ready to go pretty much, I’m just waiting on the cassettes themselves. I have the audio file. I actually fell asleep listening to it last night. HH: Do you consider the recordings performances or just another way to share your writing? RB: ...I definitely consider them just a different format for the writing that I do. I know what a performance of writing feels like. I’ve done literary performances before...since I’m not actually putting myself in front of an audience, I’m just kind of putting it out there for anyone who wants to pick it up and listen to it, I would just consider it my writing in a different format.

letterHEAD.”

HH: Do you find yourself gravitating to one medium more often? RB: It changes week to week, day to day. I have no control over what I’m good at any point in time but recently it’s been visual. I wish I could pinpoint what exactly it is that’s allowing me to be visual at one point or literary at another point. HH: What do you find is the biggest driving force to being a maker at all? RB: It’s community. It’s being able to share my work and get feedback on it from people that I respect. One of the big reasons that I am enthusiastic to be a part of Magic Death Sounds is because it’s my crew. It’s a squad of people. You get more things done when you’re working with a group. You get more credibility. You have a stronger voice. You think about the ASAP crew, there’s obviously Rocky, who’s the one that everyone knows but they’re all doing well because he’s doing well. That’s kind of the idea with MDS. It’s a bunch of musicians and makers that are all working together and everyone’s got the intention to stay faithful and true to the group... Anything we’re doing in the group, we’re doing for the group.


a selection of releases from magic death sounds


Theoretically...Phonographiq is: Johnny Osbourne, LJ Reynolds, Ron Banks, Willie Ford, Clutchy Hopkins, Lenny Mays, Tommy Cooke, Nasir Dara Jones, Fiona Apple, Milt Jackson, Aoki Taka Masa, Nancy Botwin, Ron Carter, Angel Batista, Dan Meth, John Lennon, Mr. Chi City, Fela Kuti, Deborah Morgan, Jon Brion, Allen Ginsberg, Chalky White, Charles Jessold, and Ed Burke. As the facts sit, Ed might be a well-read guy from New Jersey that makes computer music and met Dan Kaufman at a party when they were just some young’uns, but it’d be hard to cobble together a very accurate picture of Ed Burke from facts alone. It’s equally difficult to get an accurate picture from a picture. So we’ll use some of his own words to try to piece it together. he often speaks in a rhythmically constructed code of poetry that is also presented through the mosaics of samples he uses in his music. Liz bought Clouds 1 thru 9 without knowing it was created by Mr. Burke. After many car trips with us driving around banging this little blue cassette tape with a dollar sign and edition number sharpied onto it, we put the puzzle together and realized who Phonographiq was.


(looking at a tracklist for then upcoming album “Computer Music”, Released on Magic Death Sounds Jan. 1) EB: This whole list. I’m trying to get all of these in order. These are all pretty much 90% if they’re not already checked off. But some of them have been sitting around for a little while, so I’m trying to do something a little different with each one just to keep it relevant to my ears at this point. A lot of them don’t even have real names yet, they’re just file names... HxH: Is “Sweet Thing” a good song? EB: Sweet Thing is. It’s one of my favorites. I love sweet thing. I don’t even know what to call it, I like it so much, It’s got something really good in it. ............(on working to failure) EB: I don’t work out with anyone. I don’t have a spotter to lift that shit off of me when my arms explode. on top of that, working out is no fun when you’re throwing yourself into a wall over and over again. it’s like two minute closet sex as opposed to enjoying yourself. I can’t do it.

I Like iT SO MUCH” <“I ?don’T

even KNOW What to

CALL IT

HXH: That’s why I like thinking of that sort of thing as plants. We all need different amounts of sun and water. A cactus doesn’t need to do the same reps as a fucking tulip. So why are we all trying to do the same thing? EB: It’s really interesting to get to know that brain-trust of people, like in body building.There’s these guys on youtube, the hodge twins, that I love...It’s called “twin muscle fitness”, it’s really weird.. I sample them a lot. That’s one of the new things on this album, I’ve been sampling so much from movies and TV shows, most of all the samples are just youtube stuff. which is cool, there’s a lot of untapped stuff from a sampling perspective...


various yin-yangs created by ross brubeck and compiled/swirled by maggie hayes




















f e a t u r i n g ma t t t a y l o r, b r o o k s n i e l s e n , a n t h o n y p e r r y, & k y l e s t r a k a A p o r t r a i t o f t h e g r o wl e r s b y ba d l I z

los growlers










Article /P all dra age layout by M wings b y Calvin aggie Hayes Saxton


I first encountered cal’s drawings as they appeared in a collaboration with dane reynolds for his “summer teeth” line, a brief but very interesting series of t-shirts, towels, hats and coozies. “Summer teeth” was discontinued after losing its licensing contract with quiksilver, but luckily cal was already making kid creature shirts well before that surrendipitous collaboration came about. he explained, “that’s kind of how he found out about it, because Andrew Doheny was wearing my shirts on a trip with Dane.” One of only a handful of brand collaborations, cal has also enjoyed working with Captain fin company, Stance and volcom among others and He has also been commisioned to do murals and storefronts for both local shops and national brands. When asked what his favorite kind of artwork to do is, cal replied, “Pen and paper drawings...simple things like that, and then I also like painting wood, and canvases as well.” when asked about the inspiration behind his characters he mentioned artists, Evan Rossell (who goes by “Stink”), and ozzie Wright...saying, “There are definitely some artists I look up to, but I also just like turning things into creatures,.. turning dull things into creatures. so just like a mailbox, and putting eyes and a mouth on it and you can have something that comes alive...” Cal has lived in california since he was 3 years old after his family moved from arizona, and He says a typical day might normally include painting, skating, surfing and “Hanging out with buddies around Newport.” Though he also admits that being home-schooled has allowed him to travel often. He says his favorite thing about traveling is, “...coming out of your bubble and experiencing new places and different things you wouldn’t usually be able to do where you live.”


As a long time sufferer from asthma, cal was initially discouraged from surfing but later found that the salt air helped to clear his lungs and actually made it easier to breathe. He’s been surfing since he was about 5 years old and continues to hit the waves in newport as well as the far-away destinations he sometimes ends up in with friends and people he works with. Cal considers himself lucky to have only had to deal with his asthma in comparison to those who suffer from cystic fibrosis, a condition which he estimates as a billion times worse that involves the build-up of mucus in the lungs and often dramatically reduces the lifespan of those who suffer from it. the disease has been held as a very close cause to Cal’s heart and he donates 10% of the proceeds from all Kid Creature products to the fight against cystic fibrosis. CAl continues to discover new ways to share his creative mind and creatures, He has been making and painting radios and experimenting with lots of new projects including getting involved with films like jeremy asher lynch’s “Remember to forget” (see pg 88), funded 100% independently by jeremy and cal.


images appear courtesy of roger saxton, calvin saxton, and jeremy asher lynch and are copyrighted to them



rme e m ind jeremy asher lynch


to forget Still suitably acquainted with the creative leanings of his youth, Jeremy Asher Lynch began shooting skate films with his friends when he was 8 years old. Though he has since matured into a multi-talented and artistic adulthood, his recent film “Remind Me to Forget” is a surfy ode to a subconscious “unhinged from time”. With support from collaborator and young friend, Kid Creature (Cal Saxton) as a producer, we get to see a well-articulated cast of Andrew Doheny, Ford Archbold, Kyle Kennelly, Alex Knost, and Dane Reynolds under the direction, filming, and editing of Lynch. Most of the featured surfers are regularly involved in their own creative endeavours and it feels very natural to see them as the chosen ones to be sliding about both land and ocean alike, in and out of the colorful, watercolor washes of the film. The artistic and often lo-fi approach does indeed seem to unhinge the experience from time, where the decade becomes indiscernible except for rare moments (like when the launch off the wave is far too many feet above the lip to have occured before the present innovators of the sport). “Remind Me to Forget” follows a loose narrative and plenty of good surfing, there’s not a repetition of scenes. We see big and small and in all shades of sea and kool-aid. The soundtrack is as much an expertly woven part of the hypnotic poem as the waves themselves and with the overlapping of images it seems fully reminscent of the drifting we experience when thinking of what it might be like to go forward or back. written/page layout by Maggie Hayes Images are stills from the film and copyright of Jeremy Asher Lynch



Gtoparrett “G. L ove” Dutton’s ten tips for staying true 1. Believe in yourself Garrett Dutton is celebrating 20 years with his band the Special Sauce on a 45-date tour that kicks off soon in 2. Follow the music support of his upcoming album, “Sugar” as well as playing 3. Learn how to make money doing what you love on your own terms. all his classics. He’s got a fresh new video out by Emmett 4. Learn how to compromise but never at the expense of your real Malloy for the song, “Nothing Else Quite Like Home” and G. Love is both looking and sounding uncannily like a feelings of how YOU want to represent You. recharged version of his debut so many years ago. 5. Have a team behind you that believes in who you are With his roots firmly planted in the hip-hop blues, and what you do naturally. We asked G. Love for some advice on straight-shootin’. 6. Keep your health 7. Help other musicians you believe in come up. When they make it they will help you stay up. 8. Let love rule your world 9. Write honest songs that express your real true self. 10. Listen to the world around you and record in your mind or on paper all the funny, strange, sad, amazing, quirky, deep, everything moments that you experience, live through or hear about. ...it’s your job to have your mind open like a sponge.


Brady Ettinger is DJ SYLO, S-Y-L-O plays to the longform

tune of ”Sort-your-life-out” and while he seems to be well-set on the track to becoming an iconic DJ, he also remains a seeker of what music, art and love can do for a community. you might catch sylo on the 1’s and 2’s most often around philly and his former Dmv stomping grounds, but amidst holding it down at Temple University, he has also done some national touring and even found himself behind the decks during time spent in london. With brady, the swag is all anti-bad vibes and his voice has a downto-earth lilt that hangs somewhere in the balance of sounding really hood, really wise and really excited for life. that might be expected from someone who makes his bread off of keeping a dancefloor hot but also gets down on cartoons and yoga on the reg, but As much as the sounds make the work, he’s got a keen eye for visuals as well, whether drawing or writing graffiti, channeling a bird of paradise through his wardrobe, or helping us out with some disposable camera flicks...a day in the life of sylo is all about friends, good energy, and damn good music.














st ep o n e er a s e t h e l i n e ss


This is a translation. Language is a tool of translation. Image, art, music, science, dance, movement, all being language. We experience language as a translation of the source, or as a translation of a translation. Vastly more often than not, the latter, and many times repeated still. We use mind, image, art, language, words to express. We use mind, image, art, language, words to react to expression. We use mind, image, art, language, words to make dialogue about reactions. We use mind, image, art, language, words to react to dialogue. We use mind, image, art, language, words to review dialogue reactions. We use mind, image, art, language, words to suggest to others our review of the dialogue. We use mind, image, art, language, words to consume the suggestions of others. We use mind, image, art, language, words to recount the suggestions of others to others. We use mind, image, art, language, words to recount expression. The greater fluency in the language we use, the closer our capacity to reach towards the source. The greater our understanding of the source, the greater the fluency in the language that we use. This is the flow of inspiration, the eternal dawn of energy, motivation, continuation, creation, and back again. Realize and release the power that language in itself lords over us. It is not first-hand. Find what is first-hand for you. Dip into the source. Bathe in the source. FLUENCY BY IMMERSION. Seek for fluency. and then speak. Extend the spirit beyond the skin. “Pink bubbles popping out from our eyes and bursting brilliantly into the great sunlight of our…central life” Speak clearly, so you will not be mistaken. The universe will open to hear and create the rails for your intentions to move. Words are not my chosen way to make or share distinctions. I feel, words fall vastly short of meaning and intent. People use words as weapons, allowing physical breath to perpetuate negativity and deceitfulness. Without words, we are forced to create a message alternatively and tap into underutilized frequencies. I think spending a day with a loved one in silence could be miraculous for a relationship, even one day a month. 24 hours with no way to complain, no way to argue…just time and space. Feeling the pulse of the other, allowing the vibrations to serve as a tuning fork. It would be difficult, undoubtedly, especially at first. But over time, it would become almost a craving. A craving to feel, to tune back in, to harmonize. a craving to such an extent that the 24 hours would bleed into every other hour, not always in silence, but where more careful attention is placed on the person as something of an interactive, multi-sensory, whole-body experience. It would take such great care into intention, something considered frequently as an afterthought (if at all) in conversation.


But words-they are hard-workers albeit clumsy, so we will give them a chance, and we proceed to get down with these funky hieroglyphics. Symbols lost into the idea of eternal translating. Stone disguised as cheese disguised as stone. These footprints of the weird mouth grooves and twirls. These tic-tac-toe games of 1’s and 0’s, shade and sun and sometimes y. καλoς/KALOS is a process manual and celebration of this act of translating. Of appropriating the world as it is, perhaps into something that speaks directly, perhaps into something that speaks holographically, perhaps into something that does not speak at all. Perhaps it appropriates the world as it is, into what it could be. Alchemy. It is a celebration of essential beauty and of essential creation erupting forward from the gray matter of starkly non-essential periphery.




∞ Know no thing but yourself But really know Know your blood Know what makes it rush and boil and burn and cool Know what electrifies your bones and nerves Know what moves you Know how to navigate the depths of your soul blindfolded It is not visible matter and you will always be blind to it So much as we can know blindness Know yourself blind and begin to see Know where the soul aligns with the external Let that be the conductor of your symphony Close the mouth and let the soul speak Breathe through it all Deep in the belly start to laugh Play Know what you cannot live without Know that you can live without any thing Do not be hardened by this or hold it against me or your brother Be free Be free to love everyone without fear of loss Love everyone Let love pass We think of love in shapes and collected images Liquidate and never thirst You will never run dry if you cultivate and share fullness Share fullness Frigidness is not the task of any man Relieve cold Let time pass Do not grab for it It will always elude you and you will resent it You are greater than time Know yourself Know you exist infinitely

Understand infinity and watch the walls beneath the earth collapse Know this unbound, magnificent, orchestral life Infinity is now and how and here and love and on fire Let God lift your eyes to see earth Let music lift your ears to hear Heaven Reject modesty Man invented modesty to gain power over other men and women Know your strength Embrace your power Be in your light You are the greatest gift you will ever know You are the greatest gift the world will ever know You are everything “Do not be intimidated by rock stars or presidents” You are everything You are God Know that your brother is also God Your sister, God Your enemy, God And your enemy is you You are everything Understand infinity Sing without reason to sing, but speak with intention Dance without reason to dance, but stand with intention Inspire without reason to inspire, but work with intention Do not expect results Know that pain is not a requirement for results Cherish, but do not suffocate Holding a butterfly is no way to absorb its beauty VIBRATE Vibrate, flutter, hum, swim, dive Allow Atlantis to exist Hold sanctuary Leave your money, leave your car, DIVE Leave logic, leave mathematics Come with me, dive. Breathe through it all.



st ep t w o: al l o f th


∞ “The criminal, like the artist is a social explorer.” (David Carson) I worked in an inner-city summer camp teaching swimming. I had a crush on a boy named “Too Tall”. He was a year older than me. His shoulders were so wide set that he couldn’t press against his ears with his arms raised. I liked that. When someone set off a homemade smoke bomb in the auditorium, they rushed everyone out towards the sidewalk. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and I knew I would never see him again. I hope he’s good. Too Tall, I hope you’re good man.

m e


∞ Consider the living. The tendency is to be discriminate and say “I am this”, “I am not this”… ”I believe this”, “I do not believe this”…”I am capable of this”, “I am not capable of this”. The walls we build of belief become rooted deeply into our being, into our lives. Existence can then be shaped into something palatable for mass consumption, folded for portability and ease of explanation. The limits we build for ourselves can indeed be beautiful structures. We craft the ceiling, walls, and floor with plenty of different materials; fear, cement. We can touch the edges and describe it with words in as many languages as we know. For every roof that we design, we box a few more stars outside. I told a man at the park that I didn’t like the lines too much- the stripes on the maps that don’t match the rivers. Dizzying, those lines...can’t even look at ‘em too long. He told me a story about before, when the terrestrial Earth was a single mass. Before everything got busted. He said there was harmony in the land, with many sorts of people speaking different dialects because of the varying elevation, but everyone understood each other. Elevation affects the development of the voicebox, you know that, he said. There was one powerful man who wanted everyone to speak the same dialect. It just couldn’t be. Everyone sounded a little different from the get-go. So that powerful man decided, if he couldn’t have his way, he was gonna ruin everything for everybody else. He drilled a hole a million miles into the earth. I don’t have all the figures, but I know it to be true. Then he planted a load of dynamite and lit the fuse. And a great white chunk flew straight out when the land split open. This was the first time in history that dynamite had been used for evil and not for fun and the reputation was thereforth smeared for eternity. That great chunk would later be called the moon. Always wishing she could be back at home, she pulls and pushes on all the water, rolling around in the night. It’s sad to watch everyone be separated. People began to forget how to speak with each other, and eventually those misunderstandings led to war. We’ve been at war ever since, carving and re-carving those lines over and over, the moon still pulling and pulling. If we can all learn to speak from the center again, we start to understand again. We can start to appreciate every language and every translation. You don’t fight each other, because you’re just using the essence, reaching down to the magma and lifting right up out of it. We start to see we’re all the same again. Bones and magma.





∞ To seek a life where truth is not hidden and the eyes will burn out on its light that truth can be entirely within and without any further seeking that we will no longer exist separate of ourselves but as a walk in our own mind through a lens of beauty and the illumination of the spirit in many planes and paths and as a ray of light there will be no ceasing as a wave that breathes for a momentbreaks and returns to the whole, but is not lost only repurposed as love that cannot end but only changes shape pouring in and out of the light existing in every manner that light exists traversing in every place that light can be carried crying tears that are the happiness of becoming blind and illuminated I can see forever without accessory without accoutrement




La Voie Royale I am an influencer and a master of form. Mold maker for intellect to be received in the physical plane. Transferring vision to reality. A craftsman of letter, breath, clay, pulse, gait. A creator with hands that receive life. An architect of every line, every dotted I N I. Informed by light, manifest by shadow. eradication of negative space. integration of negative space. form. free to take any shape. a shape-shifter. earth-mover. light director. matter manifest of vibration. vibration manifest of intention. a world sung into existence. form. beyond shallow but not without. shallow is the access point. The craft is the gradient, leading the timid into the depths. Apparent beauty like the tip of an iceberg is less than half of it and still alone can sink a ship. Dropping in with resonance. an anchor in the harbor echoing influence. seduction. Leader to necessary destruction. Necessary creation. Balance. Om namah shivaya. La Voie Royale pt. deux “SHAPE CAN BE OFFENSIVE...THE SHADOW IS LARGER THAN THE TREE...SOON MAN SHALL BE...MUST FREE...THE LOOK IS ALWAYS FIXED. IT MUST BE UNHOOKED... STOP TIME! GAUGE THE PACE OF YOUR BREATH...TURN THE MOON AROUND. THEN REWIND YOUR HEARTS...” (Linton Kwesi Johnson)



∞ That’s the straddle, a mile-high or at sea-level walking on the blade edge, between light and complete darkness, bleeding out all the while. This tension holds our skin onto our bones, but to undefined purpose, to no specific purpose, to no purely necessary purpose. Without function, with no evolutionary objective, there are plenty of us and with everyone, thankfully, terminal; we exist. To what, for what, and why? I suggest beauty. Rather than the clock clock clock clock clock. We disagree with the limits of the clock, of the timetable, and now create a new hour. The new hour. The not 3600 seconds. The new age. “I ONLY EXIST ON THE TENS.” (Kirchin Weston) Time and heat define the corporal living. Heat defines alchemy. When you’re down to your last, pennies look like gold. Alchemy of consciousness, that allows everything to be perceived in golden light and new or restored value. Precious without influence and with NO CRITICS and NO SPECULATORS and NO ANALYSTS and NO ESTIMATORS. “To the critic, art is a noun.” A comment on a comment on a comment, a condiment on a condiment on a condiment. and you’ve been dead for precisely that long, with nothing that satisfies. We are not interested in repeat. We are interested in the unifying non-repeat. Communal absurdity. We are lucky because, “Life is short and art is long and success is far off,” (Joseph Conrad) LIFE AND ART ARE VEHICLES OF MOVEMENT, however long the motions last But Hippocrates also knew, And you may know for yourself Put forth the effort formerly designated to our survival into that which will surely survive us! Do not waste elaborate scheming in your cage on the notion that you are still hunting for the meat that walks itself in through the door. Read: the meat is here. The fruit is always in season on this aisle, whether you like it or not. Survival is no longer the true objective. Prolonged life in a constant state of decay? I prefer art, in the corporeal sense. of being art myself, of being love, of being greater dimensions than space, with no extra dues or interest paid for longevity. Prolonged for leisure? LEISURE NOW OR NEVER. NO LEISURE LATER. GOOD WORK NOW OR NEVER. NO WORK LATER. Dismiss the segregate notion of retirement. Dance, don’t stop. We funnel efforts into pills and tubes and potions. Knives, and needles, and lotions.

Sipping the poison we set out for the bogeyman To save us from a future that doesn’t exist.


We are violent with ourselves to strange ends of self-caricature. Strangulating attachment to the lines we’ve drawn in and around our flesh. Through our gut, around our eyelids. This other force that has seeped into our minds and allowed us to think that these lines were our own ideas and not for commercial gain. That “this is how the world is” That this is the culture we made, we planted the seeds ourselves in the chicken scratch of old white men in office chairs that would cost x # months of rent. That this is the culture we made in the lattes and pants sizes and perfume lines of celebrities. We have this by suggestion and weakness to suggestion. Weakness to language, to persuasion, to charm. To the shiny film that lays over homogenization Politico sirens and many dutifully dead sailors. We allowed our culture to be designed by heteronomy, by button-pressers that imply trends and false necessity. Destroy that which destroys you even if you bite the hand that feeds. Eat the hand. “Your honor, I will not be able to attend your party” You don’t need to sit and roll over for treats. Read: the meat is here. For good or ill, it is more likely that you will keep on going by no particular device of your own. So dedicate your devices to CULTURE OVER COMMERCE AND NOT DEFINED BY COMMERCE. Demand it. Create the culture. Or starve. Art will, at worst, ease us into the place of time and space where we are relieved of this, our consciousness. The truth exists and cannot cease to exist, whether we like it or not. There is no search, it is all here. It is all happening. It is only to leave the residuals in non-existence and redefine. We have micro-realized everything into teeny tiny swallow-able but non-soluble pieces. We don’t need to harvest concern over sodium, magnesium, vitamin A, cellophane or Styrofoam. Root canals, periodicals and whatnot; Thrills, spills, dividends, and whatnot; Cataracts and cyber status. serve yourself/save yourself. On your knees, to your soul. We need grand, unpackaged ideas and work. These little bits of plastic, being the crumbs and evidence of our brain-dry feasting for so many years, this is the very substance that we are breading ourselves in. And the fat is in the fire, waiting and popping, while we walk the plank. All that is left, with the price on our heads, is style. Style and heat. Sashay. Preening and camouflage, preening and camouflage. Crispy or extra-crispy? And if style and heat don’t combine to make the nut, death is heavy-set, but very willing. Death not being an alternative, but a parallel that eats the marrow. Once the paralysis of being futureless wears off, it’s that everything is beautiful. Because we’re already goners. Because it ought to be so. But more importantly, because we make it so.



We make the freedom we want to experience We have no use for longevity, just observe. We can burn now and hard, and beautiful. We will not see the end Create yourself, create your surroundings. The world is what you make it, at your command captain and full speed ahead. Constructs being such as they are, constructed...anything in disagreement can be responded to by creating the acceptable. If this, there must be anti-this. The ever-sliding scales are valueless on each end. No thing is in totality. Therefore, “everything is everything,” (Miss Lauryn Hill), nothing is everything, nothing is nothing, everything is nothing. Because nothing can matter, everything must matter. We have so little and so temporarily, that these trinkets and effects and each breath become replete with all that we can bear to inject. “Just remember, it don’t mean shit, but it means everything,” (Nathan Sakulich) We breathe not because we must but because we choose to. Because everything is arbitrary, wherever we reach is ours, the weight is ours. Because the weight is ours, everything slides from light to heavy, heavy to light. HEAVY! And then back. light. And then back. Do not find horror in freedom. Carry the weight and phind phantasy. PHIND PHANTASY! Keeping mortality at your fingertips lets the play begin. HARK! CUE THE SYMPHONY! FINGERS! GUIDE THEM! If it doesn’t sing to you, destroy it, and make something that does. Ah-ah-ah! not only to build song, but also SING ON. Sing loudly and well, so you will not be mistaken. Going on in a world where what is expected is disagreeable, the task is to define new expectations or at least charge towards the unexpected. Nothing exists in complete necessity. Water is a need for life, but life is a need for nothing and trounces necessity of water. Drink and fill and continue on!* *if this is what you like! Know that we can be with any chosen, or worse, given, subtraction. We adapt or we die. At once. Allow the adaptation to be suited directly to you, rather than being forced to follow suit of someone else or some larger opposing consensus (often). Choose to release the disagreeable and pursue everything that delights and adds joy, which in the context of skill and intention begets art. Entertain that our society evolved to these strange times all on its own. No longer hunting and gathering, but concocting, breeding and stealing for survival. Since we have chosen to simply take whatever we need (society, not individual, but also individuals) from whatever holder of resources we desire. At this juncture, as long as someone is handling the taking, we are left to gravity’s devices to devote all energy to art. Our muscles and tendons and fibers and “red jellies” pump hard and fast to strengthen and sculpt on command. But sculpting is what it is; we are for sport and show and contest. You are strong because you wish to be. There is no actual overseer and no scales. Why require some outside conscience of your state?


Of course, the sport and contest are arbitrary! The significance is yours to place. The chosen product of your alchemy decides the award or the punishment. Win whenever you want, lose just the same. What enormous freedom to be pronounced dead at such a youthful stage of reckoning? “Who has believed in the world and died with its name on their lips? Who has said, at death, “I believe in the future of this bauble, that triviality, this irrelevance-it will live forever!” (JK) With it all before us; except that the greatest fear has already past, the binding nature of this infinitesimal duration is undone. The great undoing, without trepidation, without need, without purpose, we go on. We can now set out upon the spoils of experience, the spoils of beautiful life. To create heaven here, and leave the rest for idle speculation. “Through it all roll the waves.”

∞ Don’t scratch your head girl. Pat it out.




Any hypoxic love can expect a shallow water blackout.

The pressure on the lungs and head excites.

That struggle encompasses the whole.

But being cloaked in that shade with someone, you wouldn’t trade for a shorter trip back to breathe.

They went too deep, both of them, too much immunity in that darkest of all shades of blue.

With the waves breaking safely overhead instead of into the face, somehow we find immunity from the performance above.

Sometimes the inadequacies of the surface are ignored by the transparent self.

Transparency, being this wordless, doubtless thing, sneaks in through the breath, riding steady under the lies of the surface.

It was there just beyond symbols and without hesitation, a silent yielding to their transparent forms.

She had realized her expectation of intimacy.

The sweetness of the end of that waiting was hers; without a single word spoken, in the instant that he leaned down and kissed the water droplets from her bare lips.

The sweetness of waiting in the bathtub was hers.

The gilded lobby was hers.

The key was hers.

She arrived before him after the show. She belonged there.

It could have been anyone, but it wasn’t, it was her name that had been attached with his to the hotel room.

...But she has always been in favor of too soon, rather than too long.

It could have been anyone. It just wasn’t. It was the one with the cheekbones perched highest on his face, the one that retired early from conversation those nights before. She had an awareness of his leaving too soon, the intentionality of it.


∞ “It doesn’t have to be this way,” I lied.

That color blue leaves you sick forever.

They will meet still for years even with some swearing off.

Everything slides from phantasy to fact and back again. And back again.

Kaleids.

There’s a point where it all collides.

Eventually direction becomes circular, and the reflections go on endlessly with only prismatic delineation of more reflection.

The horizon makes that thin veil of division, but you can see the clouds twice from both directions, stars the same.

But she also could have been anyone; above is just another version of below.

Beneath, she is the antidote.

Unacknowledged, she is no one.

Acknowledged, she is an intruder.

There, she does not belong.

And his surface world is not hers at all.

Some sweetness is hers, but he isn’t.

The sea-light leaves you a bit sick forever, even if just with a little water fog in the ears.

Being fished up and trying to look back and send logic through memory and into the future was like trying to provide an acrylic fence for the same ocean.



∞ broken and complete phantasee it is as simple, often as augmentation of reality as a physical thing not so different being tuned to the subtle yearnings but in fact surrealistic touches of the body augmented reality where the edges melt the veil of the soul phantasee the breasts are more full the vibrations that allow the soul to seep makes many uncomfortable the kisses more tender through the pores unsteady like a drug the kisses more hungry the vibrations that beg to be touched only for vacations the back more limber and dictate how so not for all the time the gait more graceful vibrations that want to be rubbed the inevitability of a nightmare train tracks racing away from the bathtub and scratched that is called upon by tradition a juxtaposition of commonplace elements and split open we stop short that do not exist in the same breath and held well short simple contradictions and brought breakfast the guarantee seduces that are freed from their contradicting and sexualized door number one is a bag of shit sexual and intellectual and cared about but we take it meaningless dissociatives there are always consequences to getting what as if the newness of realizing impossibilities that are not so different from what we know you want that shift with every moment of consciousand can actually be the question mark that follows ness nothing that the brain cannot handle the ticking off a box at the end of the page could ever grow tired in turn of memory the standing at the peak or wear out able to blend and season to refine the taste in our the descent but the possibility of the wearing out mouth or the choice to stay at the top is the turn-off from whatever we’ve been left with to recall reeling the anticipation the power that makes an onion also sweet reveling of the worst fall that can be imagined sensation as a brief expression of perspective in the impossible and will be imagined malleable in the energy that matches yearning but what makes it worthwhile and alterable in perfect envelopment and harmony is the high what we perceive is only our notion of what we sense to stay in the song and what makes it worthwhile alter the reality tonight will be a dance is the risk of the fall dream awake and we will never have to leave the heightened sense accept the phantasee this mountaintop of mere which is “truer than malice and skepsis” we will never have to leave the bottom of the existence rejection of imposed negativity ocean that it can be relieved at any time supposed restraints we are living the fall catalogs of conviction in this is just one sort of death be a phantastical being it becomes individual responsibility to fulfill willing to take it a little further this is real the phantasee than outspokenly admitted and we are here and to also be someone who fulfills the phana breathing testament tasee that whatever you can imagine is possible of others that it can be delivered that expands reality in the desired direction and thus because he exists, many things are made people are able to believe more is possible possible than they previously knew because she exists, many things are made expander of reality possible expander of mentality revealed to be true not only satisfied but resonating an with new realms


∞ The world seduces us with potential, material charged with juicy pulses of possibility and raw sensation. A universe of textures, smells, tastes, color, reverb. Consider that the world is charged, but indifferent, no inherently good or bad material, only different possibilities. These materials do what our hands make them do. Response and resistance of the materials are equal parts of the solution, helpful guidelines to the path. I yearn equally for what will break me and what will build me, the shape emerges more clearly in each instance. This is why I cannot be fearful. I am omnipotent as wreckage. I am omnipotent as colossus. It is all matter, emergent shapes. There is no hierarchy. Weeds will cover our cities. As we progress, certain possibilities become unavailable because their alternative has been translated from option into reality. Those pulses will harden in time and this tradition of clinging to one billion open doors will make the hallway seem like a prison itself. Enter again and again and again. An unlit match has never set the world ablaze and neither has a wet one. So it is better to make the choice and burn, than to leave the box in the sink with someone else’s hand on the faucet. In an effort to be engulfed in light, we must also accept the burn and glare of our choices. Gladly. Burn and ash and live and burn and ash and live. Whether in vain or not, is your decision. Everything we can see will crumble. Chlorophyll until final wilt. “This summer the roses are blue; the wood is of glass. The earth draped in its verdure has as much effect on me as a ghost. It is living and ceasing to live which are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.” (AB)...cde All essence is in complete continuity. (Maybe vanity is not inherently charged either. Maybe vanity can at least be honest. If our task is to be honest.) Impose yourself on reality. Blue flowers. Do not sit in the hand of so and so, letting someone else say you are worthy (or not) of your ambitions. Live with the pride that does not allow modesty to get in the way of work. This life is tremendous because I am making it tremendous and I am also tremendous. I can no longer be sorry. I know what it is that I do. I hate that I can smell your fear and all of the potions you use to try to cover it. It repulses me, watching this disease eat you and knowing that your idle preference is to be put to dust rather than to swim with me in the throes of infinite vitality. Comfortable with your own erosion. I take your choice personally, that I will not begin to deny. I did not choose to be a vessel of the alternative, to be a confrontation of your limitless potential... but I am still sore to be dismissed. It torments me to see you, to exist with you, watching your shrinking. I saw you as a great beast before, terrible and beautiful. Now. Toothless and gumming your food, I smell your fear of body, its power. I smell your fear of mind, its power. I smell your fear of light, its power. I walk with you and negotiate relieving this stench on you. Restoring your all. And you refuse. Parfums will do just fine, you say, please do not take my odor away. I laugh and die and swim into the unknown. I wanted you here, at least you knew. I know what it is that I am. I cannot be what I am not. WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT TO BE?! ~YOU BECOME. “I AM A GREAT PILOT LOOK AT THIS CRUISING ALTITUDE WONDROUS ADDITION TO THE STRATOSPHERE THAT I AM. SELAH!” ... AND SO BE IT!


No matter if human flight be good or ill. That is not the celebration at hand. The hesitation is that taking pride in our existence also means being responsible completely for our inevitable failings, short-steps, and missed opportunities. Why apologize for an artwork in progress when you are aware of the progress? This is your work. Know what it is that you do. We worry that our own estimation of our expertise may not be accurate. Improve and know! What else. No step is wasted and after all, many of your neighbors are nervous laughing jackals. Read: It is simply imperative that you inform yourself and value your own opinion. know yourself/trust yourself/enjoy yourself Birds, meteors, balloons, and planes will all fall from the sky. I don’t have figures on this, but I know it to be true. These are the mechanics, this is the turning. Your work must satisfy the soul first. We cannot be bogged down by the promise of failing mechanics. If the soul is satisfied and the work is good, then the missile of melted metal and shrapnel tearing through the clouds is an act of mechanics and death, and all will be fine. These sorts of acts are not charged beyond our emotional connection to the consequence. Mechanical failings, human failings, death, all inevitable. We cannot understand all of the turning of these gears because yes it is, yes it is boy. At time of print, it is. It is certain that the world is not yet done. Perhaps as someone once thought after eating key lime pie and receiving oral sex, “maybe there really is good in all things.” In no particular or necessarily separate order. And so against the periphery of a compromising world, we must erupt! We are to send our deadly glorious molten selves a mile into the atmosphere! Ash everywhere! Burn and ash and live! Do not be sorry. There will be collateral, but it will be spectacular. This is the turning. Lying dormant can only last until the pain of being dormant outweighs the fear of erupting. This is the law of inertia. BUT LIFE AND ART ARE VEHICLES OF MOVEMENT. The heat and pressure under existence have been building together for all eternity waiting for your spectacular explosion! Your spectacular, majestic explosion. Burn or become periphery. The water will be all boiled up in time, there is no reason not to go on with it presently. Somehow there is still resistance. We look instead to cold, swirled granite and steel and electronics to hold safe the contents of our wildest imagination. Vaults! They’re full o’ fun! For later! Papier mache with far less glue. Too thin for origami cranes, too cluttered for a drawing surface. This must also be a translation device of some kind. Not of beauty, these papers are translators of compromise. They decide what you can compromise with it, what you are forced to compromise without it. Additionally, it is only worth the very compromise that it displaces. So, a compromise at the start of the vicious flow of currency is already the losing end. It can, at best service, allow you to be less compromised in your vision, one less limitation needing a work-around. And one less workaround goes a long way in the all encompassing human or personal history of workarounds. Historically, we would rather deal indirectly with everything, and after the fact of it as well...from this preference, the workaround was born and we never step more than an arms length away from it to solve our problems, going on and on devising new ways to treat symptoms that only cause more symptoms. At least it keeps us very very busy, mouths and stomach full of ulcers, very busy treating symptoms of our discontent and creating additional discontent. Become the void or become the charge.


∞ I must deprive myself of the false sense of security that comes from a full refrigerator, a marked calendar, and an unused gift card. These things must not be my only symbols of the necessary continuation of my life. Potentiality must be formed by electric connection to the matter beyond this world. I must not survive on the electricity between glances. I must not survive on the ego of plunging a new anchor into a still harbor. I must not survive on possibility and momentum alone. When some possibilities are closed, I cannot be less alive. If my legs are gone, how will I still dance? I only know that I must. Everything electric. The details are inevitable.


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