"I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round. And in that circle was a face. Her eyes looked upon me with fondness. Her warmth coming near, calling me 'sweetness,' calling me 'dear.' But I whispered 'no, I can't rest here.'" - Merchant

So I'm brushing all of my teeth, last night or early, they all blend together, and VH1 is on as the news is insufferable as of late, and there on the screen is a man who I swear is Rob Buck, but from three or four or more years ago when he was plump and seemingly healthy and I'm amazed, thinking I'm watching a televised ghost until the end of the video and the info-area says it's Uncle Kracker's lead singer. Not Rob.
That leads me to thinking about old, ancient 10KM Days and all my compiled band stories and experiences which leads to the reaching for Our Time in Eden before all hell broke loose with Her/Merchant leaving, the band imploding for a while, grabbing a hold of Mary and John who were doing just fine without them, ensuing small and large chaoses and then Rob's untimely, tragic death.
Circle Dream is a compact and effective Her/Merchant item.
And art moves on.
Old stylish shoes get dated and beat to shit, prized guitars get auctioned off, new methods of image making are explored, art openings are imminent and dreams crash with wake.
Love.

Ponderments du jour:

1
Will my new cut-down-on-caffeine-you've-got-enough-adrenaline-teeming-through-your-veins stance render me less a merry workaholic.

2
Will the nightshade growing through the torn screen of my living room window latch onto a house plant. Could it survive the winter in some greenhouse way and cheer me with its determination.

3
Will people love this new work I'm making in the printing studio.

4
Will I care if the charred remains look of it confounds them.

5
Will my post-carcrash driving anxiety and shoulder pain ever leave me.

6
Will I ever remember to purchase a new bottle of Oban for the work station.

7
Will I ever stop procrastinating or is it my truest occasional self.

8
Will the Middling City implode.

9
Will this blog end.

10
Will your love end.

Ye Olde Encapsoulation and Odd Thoughts for Greater Joy:

1.
I am in blissful, greater-than-ever adrenalized art mode and have been subsumed in the basement of the art building in a printing studio where my cell phone does not work (immediate sidenote: today, at newspaper office, whilst talking with two collegial colleagues, I mentioned a moment of anxiety when I realized this past weekend when I was shooting a wedding and noted my cell wasn't working, etc. They said that they wish to do an intervention for my work-addicted ways. I said Interesting, today NPR was all about people of my ilk... but overall it was agreed by 'experts' that those, like me, who run their own businesses are slightly in different work-addict categories. Then I karate chopped them in their heads and they laid off.) and the only thing that arrives in the radio in the studio is an all-talk AM station upon which the world's most arrogant and conservative man bloats about his opinion until I can't take it any more, attempt to massage some music out of the dial and then give up and return to my ink-covered project.
What am I making? 13 16x20 images printed on sheets of stainless steel that I had custom-cut with pre-drilled holes and these images are from the famed Conflagration photo shoot of about a month ago whereby I had the 6' twins interacting and posing in the midst of a kitchen on fire.
These 13 images (I chose 13 as the opening happens on Friday the 13th of September and numbers have always been my secret passion in my photography and poetry) are screened in blackest black and look, I hope, like charred image remains.
These sheets of steel will be set onto a field of cherry red rimmed with wood strips of a darkish green stain and these are being made by another artist, Penny Wyatt, and I've given her complete artistic freedom so I won't see them finished until they're finished.

2.
The last little bit of hearing that I had in ears left & right was decimated after last Thursday night's gig at the University at Buffalo homecoming football game when, during halftime entertainment moment, I thought it'd be really neato to get closer to Rocket Man - a U.B. Engineering grad student strapped into a real-live jet pak. So I'm on the field with Rocket Man, 5 techs wearing airport-grade headphones/protectors (should've been Perfect Nancy Hint #1) and a kooky video guy. So they make an announcement to the folks up in the bleachers This'll be REAL LOUD so you might want to cover them there ears...
I'm on the field, a camera in my hands. Rocket Man lifts off about 20 feet from me. I can feel my ear drums vibrating. I don't know whether to cover my ears or shoot but, being photojournalistically sound, I shoot.
Did you just say something? Oh, I thought I heard something. Then again, maybe I didn't hear anything.
If only I chronicled the hilarious mis-hearings this past weekend. Too many, way too, to remember.

3.
This new Coldplay cd is perfect, as far as I can tell.

4.
The scent Ylang Ylang is also perfect, as far as I can smell.


My Love.