30 (december o7)

"grassroots"




12/o7

12/o7



"supernova"

11/o7



"hegemony or hard-0N"

#1

never point fingers

11/o7

me...B_E(a).rTh

12_23_77

impetus...never flippant



"bumping uglies"

"nutrition facts"

meet Oliver

"lust"


"soul circa 2000"

"diss go head"

my goddamn godblessed hand!

i don't sleep much these days. the Divine speaks to me in my sleep. now, the demon holds my hand and hideously barks at me. then i wake up...intense sense of fright. or is it that i fall asleep when the demon's gone? am i holding his hand? i'm alone...dozing, but wide awake; gazing with my eyes closed. there's this expansion of space around me, this simultaneously thrilling and horrific sense of vastness i recently started to have again--accidental meditation; i've known it since childhood. the more infused i am with the over-caffeinated world, the less it arises! then, there are those spurts of clarity. how cute? clarity through nerve damage...too unnerving for modern living. the only thing we have in this world is our body. cliches...how powerless they've become......'we're all alone.' the clock faithfully glows its red glow, around 1 or 2 or 3 am. we have faith in our alarm clocks.

the freeway outside howls...

i'm a pawn of the Divine, and i'll hear when i sleep. if i sleep.

"reconsidering idle hands"

"sheep in wolf's clothing"

"i know"




"somebody hit somebody"

o8/o7

~ with the tact of GonZo...in the spirit of KudZu ~

myspace.com/briantreadwell

the old adage

at home...at last

(o6/o7) Getting pumped for the journey back to GA!

you suck!

(circa ~2000)

normative words are null in the context of real art. plainly, they're the product of a forced-consummerism-beyond-necessity; conditioned knee-jerking...reciprocating value judgements to the suggested retail price.

~~"if it sells, it's good."~~


really?




real art isn't good; real art isn't bad; real art is real. there's no such thing as a mistake. there's decision: the fingerprints on the walls; the footprints on the trail.

in who's EYE(s) ?

the outsider/dropout idiosyncrasy has always been strong with me. it's not arrogance; it's not social anxiety...i purged my anxieties of people long ago.



it's that riddle of the individual, the group, and our admiration and disdain for the odd-man-out.


i see myself in whose eyes?

cape cod, MA/cape elizabeth, ME o6/o7

just an old, sweet song...

adios boston. much fun!

The tight pad on Comm. Ave

A week from this day we stand on red clay...to live more deliberately.


"eye on the prize"