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DocSonian — The Sound of Cool....
Published: 2010-11-22 01:53:45 +0000 UTC; Views: 493; Favourites: 22; Downloads: 0
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Description
the pop in lollyand the colors spinning around
goes with the eyes
moving sideways
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Comments: 20
thanks, that is one of my favorite Polaroids I have ever done. Really old TZ-Artistic film. A fun piece and an old beat-up guitar I was about to toss out. It all worked that day.
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the endlessness of it all
but words are good over the image
do you like poetry?
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yes, i love poetry. i write poetry and song lyrics and i'm working on a short story. (:
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i write in jags
word jags
they comfort when i am not painting
but i love to write them at least
we'll maybe have to try a collab sometime
have to look if you have posted any writing of yours here
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i've noticed! i post some stuff on your page.
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acoustic
recollections
like pouring colour onto spun wheels
whose speed determines the results
years end
winter tones--clouds--heavy
dark --
but hope lingers
in the recesses of every childhood dream
in primary hues --untainted
perchance to breathe.
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the pour is always slow and easy
"Welcome to town" she said
as she slid into the room
lit by one dim bulb
and sat at a table in a dark corner
with a glass of water
and matches and a burning cigarette waiting,
on the walls written questions never answered
by someone not there
in a time never spoken
and on a map not seen.
she looked up and said
"I do not believe you"
I replied as I had done before,
"Makes no difference,
you're still going,
you're so going you're already gone"
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---behind dark cloaks
it was easier
not to be seen
depth of scars
dying colour crowns
that excess weight
time brings on
in them dark corners
she'd arrive early
to assure her place
neither one to the left
nor right
and no one
behind to take her by surprise
some might call it
hyper-vigilance
she called it
secure--prudent
or maybe she just
liked watching all the
soles walk in--
never thinking she too
was being watched-
especially during her
invisible phase.
she was always
ready to start a fire
just for the pure
satisfactions of
and putting it out.
she liked creating illusions
she masked gin
in tall water glasses
and the presence of smoke
with rolled up wood chips
she liked creating a staged
set circa 1955 --or maybe it was
1943---
didn't matter---keep it black and white
and make it real.
-
visitors approach
most bored her
she dined alone
intentionally
to watch
to eat--to taste
to think to believe
to read those definitive
writings she knew
were too real to be denied.
call her mad
as she exited to scroll
on the peace tanks already
defiled surface--
'this too will end.'
'the greatest peace--comes with
release--having held on too long.'
*
encrypted tongues --kept their
tangled lingo
cha cha cha
naaaaaa mambo---
'dont think twice...
its alright..'
and though gone--
long before she arrived---
their glasses clicked
she 'drinking fine water-with the aroma of 17 herbs and spices.'
and he with indifference... knowing
tales are twirled like Hollywood signs
transient at best.
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when the smoke clears
and the water clears
and the calm becomes normal
and the reflections start
you can just wait for someone
to ruin the moment,
someone who just does not get it
paid by the man who pays the ones in the background
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what you write reminds me of a Jackson browne classic
Stay:
'Now the seats are all empty
Let the roadies take the stage
Pack it up and tear it down
They're the first to come and the last to leave
Working for that minimum wage
They'll set it up in another town
Tonight the people were so fine
They waited there in line
And when they got up on their feet,
They made the show, and that was sweet,
But I can hear the sound of slamming doors and folding chairs
and that's a sound they'll never know'
*
so true...
the unseen...
the invisible.
well--at least to those without eye. hmmmmthat would be the majority.
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not much of a fan of Jackson Browne, with an E
ha
, but can see that in the song
never heard it i do not think
funny
maybe 6 years ago, JB was standing on my dad's property down in Venice with a neighbor (Ed) who I knew well. He records/produces lps and live shows and was working on a JB album.
I walked over and Ed introduced me to JB. Once he heard my name he said, "Ohh your Anders's son?"
We had a nice chat.
Turns out my dad knows Jackson Brown, but not really as a musician, just a nice guy around Venice.
And the final funny thing is JB was trying to buy my dad's house and my dad turned him down.
so true
unseen
invisible
and the one i do know
they were running on empty
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wow amazing i love the drop shadow great idea!
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yea
on this one it really makes it pop
jump out i mean
thanks
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what's this new deal here
the dancing image
dunka
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ohh just an icon I found
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