El Corazon

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Vajrasattva & Consort

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The True Artist Helps The World By Revealing Mystic Truths

Gaetano Pesce, Chair and Ottoman

Rauschenberg, Estate, 1963

Philadelphia Museum of Art: walk in and straightaway Rauschenberg's Estate and Flush in brilliant puckish pinks doves scaffolding footprints of course they make me think of you

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"museums seem to be for whatever America's done with"--O'Keeffe

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glass smelling-bottles looking like              bowls

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satyr-boy holds an owl as he runs mouth open like a dog

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slender form of Venus in today's black linen pants (interesting floral urban shoulderbag and black jazz dancer shoes) hair up in chopsticks she briefly views Ansel Adam's show then leaves just as cooly as she came

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non-Western origami shape of the geisha kimono erotic red imperial gaze of the top geisha her sleek upswept hair like Bjork in DR9 (from the camera's penetrating eye she turns away)

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interesting looking urban Japanese woman with Yoko Ono hairdo

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Love:  The True Artist Helps The World By Revealing Mystic Truths (Bruce Nauman)

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gorgeous black children near street murals smile goodbye

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Allen Shelton

May 1, 2008

Little boy comes up:

"Can I be teacher?"

"No."

Great blue eyes like wheels.

Today:  ecology, biology,

botany.

Last night:  Erika.

"Leute, gehen wir tanzen?"

(People, are we going dancing?)

The wish to dance:  honor that.

Remember Joanne Kyger?

Mahalia Jackson swinging it.

(Man get relaxed

Woman get permanent)

Back in classroom.

Little boy looks blank.

Can't think what to write.

He's new, doesn't like science,

I sympathize.

"Which of the following

is not the main function

of roots?"

sea urchins. 

Cross-pollination:

braincandy transfer.

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To the right of the mind
of the mammal that is
in the dark with the light
from the sea, musical,
in the rain, beneath the
tigers in the lamplight
with the flame, having
feelings of the eelings
that are there, alight,
arrayed in light, arrayed
in what is light inside
itself, so spake it, this
array of autumn in the
trees, the curve of the
branch of the ship
that I love as I love of
its songs in its longing

Nakajima

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Julie Prokop

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MOCAD

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Amy Sol

                                                                         www.amysol.com

                                                            ::Silence::

                                                    The subtle body senses

                                                    a tree senses trees plural

                                                    aural immune one is alone

                                                    left with an image one looks

                                                    quietly under the hood of the

                                                    mind quietly in muted tones

                                                    a young woman sensitive to

                                                    colour sensitive to intuition

                                                    feels something unsaying

                                                    silence 

                                                    …

                                                    say I undone say the unred

                                                    wound round the womb all

                                                    along the pink-beige skin

                                                    feels something as feathering

                                                    loosening petals to wind

                                                    unassuming presence of

                                                    breath assuming its meant

                                                    position a young woman

                                                    sensitive to other-sounding

                                                    within.

                                                                for Amy Sol

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New York Artist w/her Notebook

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