A good furniture maker can either fix a screw up or
turn it into a feature. A Rotationist's only option
is to come up with a good title that makes the screw
up seem to be an intentiona, difficult to execute, artistic
choice (see third image here).
Am closing in on the attire thing
a wool Peruvian sock type cap I picked up years ago
in Columbia, with light brown background, plenty
of primary colors tufts and- ear flaps
one black eye patch AND rimless wire glasses
(if the eye patch things can work for Gilhoolie (sp?)
why not for me?)
one turned wooden bead braided into my beard. The
bead will be changed weekly perhaps?
gray Columbian wool ruana in winter, Oakland
Raiders jersey in warmer months
mid calf frayed Levi cut offs
red knee socks
Sorrel snow boots
- Hunter Thompsonesque cigarette holder
- either Sherman or bidi cigarettes
- possibly a red dot between the eyes - still
cogitating on that one. Might not go over
well with potential Indian (from India,
not the ones a dumb Euro trash named
because he thought he'd reached India.
Good thing he wasn't heading for Turkey)
- leather belt mounted scabbard for a
big,wicked looking parting tool
- shop ambiance sounds - Tuvan Throat
Singer songs - two, three or even four
simoultaneous voices from a single throat.
The turningss and titles are easy, the image,
much more difficult.
formerly known as
On Thu, 11 Aug 2005 23:58:33 -0700, the opaque charlie b
There ya go. Turn your misteaks[sic] into MONEY!
Off you're Lithium again, I see. <tsk tsk tsk>
So, what's this all about, anyway? Are you taking pot shots
at a certain Vermontican shephard who made it big, or what?
Where is this stuff coming from? ;)
Inside every older person is a younger person wondering WTF happened.
http://diversify.com Website Application Programming
Please note Shawls' travels through Columbia.
Maybe he licked a toad?
I'm enjoying his antics.
As a Kanuckistani with three thumbs, my tax dollars have supported an
artist who dressed up a mannequin in slabs of beef at the National
Gallery in Ottawa. (yeah, yeah, yeah...the cows were mad as hell..)
So..I'm just sitting back and waiting for Shawls to tackle a question
He could be turning a new leaf.
Apparently you can't read latin (or read the fine print that's
in english). Markus Inquisitus Erectus IS a question mark
- just not hunched over as it is normally seen.
Hmmm- take an identifiable part of a leaf and
spin it. Could the results source be recognizable?
Interesting possibilities for a series.
As for where all this stuff comes from - start
with sleep depravation, add 2 liters of a caffiene
and sugar mix (Classic Coca Cola), the fumes of
denatured alcohol evaporating from an open jar
of shellac and a pack or two of "ultra light" cigs
and things just start happening - around 1 or
2 in the morning.
As for the earlier reference to a trip to Columbia,
I use to make and teach lost wax casting - mainly
of jewelry. The National Bank of Columbia has
a museum of the largest collection of pre-Columbian
cast gold pieces in the world. On the way to
visit my parents in what was the Panama Canal
Zone I took a short trip down to Bogota to see
the collection. My pass port therefore had
stamps of me entering and leaving both Panama
Ten years later, I lost my wallet two days before
a trip to Florida. Was able to get new credit
card and a temporary drivers license that had
my full name, DOB, color of eyes, color of hair
etc. - but no picture. I took the passport along
which had most of the same information AND
a photograph of me just in case I got stopped
I'd rented a car in Panama City FLA, a four
door sedan because that was the only car
available, and was driving down the gulf
coast side to Clear Water. Cresting a bridge
at 55 mph - the last posted speed limit, I
saw the 25 mph speed limit sign at the bottom
of the bridge - perhaps a hundred yards
away - AND the police car sitting just
beyond the sign. Though I braked as hard
as I could without locking up the brakes
or dipping the nose of the car blatantly,
I knew I was in for a speeding ticket.
The flashing red light and siren sounds
behind me made me turn into the parking
lot of a conveniently located 7-11, where
I got out and slowly pulled my IDs from
my back pocket.
While the officer was examining my IDs
I asked if it was OK to go in an use the
john and get a coke, cause I knew this
was going to take a bit of time.
Leaving the store I saw the expression
on the officer's face and his body language.
I started ticking off what was probably
going through his mind:
- Long Haired Weirdo
- California temporary driver's license
- passport with entries for Panama AND
- four door sedan rental
- gulf coast highway rather than the
much faster, straighter, wider
interstate down the center of FLA
It came as no surprise when he asked
"SO - what were you doing down in
Panama AND Columbia?"
And it wasn't a big surprise when,
before I could answer he said "Mind
if I search your car?"
Visions of iron bars and body cavity
searches popped into my head but
I stayed calm and started a long
but logical and verifiable story.
When I was done he believed that I
was in fact not a drug runner. But
he still wrote me up for doing
56 in a 25 mph zone.
The speeding fine in this little town
was graduated, sort of like the
income tax, $5 for the first ten
miles over the posted speed limit,
$6.50 for each of the next 10 mph,
$7.50 for each of the next 10 mph
and $10 for each additional overage.
Conveniently, the "fine" came to
exactly $200. I could pay cash
and the matter would be closed,
I'd get a receipt and be on my way.
OR - I could wait three days and
take it to court.
Fortunately, I had close to a grand
in cash on me, which raised the
cop's eyebrow a bit. But he got
his cash and I got to continue on
to Clearwater. Hell, I figured
I'd gotten off free on the speeding
speeding thing becasue the story
of my "run in with The Law" was
worth $200. Not as good as
my 10 hours in the "protective custody"
of the Panama Guardia Nacional. with
a near miss of having my head shaved
with a straigth razor, guns pointed
at me, hours in The Carcel Modelo
(The Model Prison which was only
an example of a model prison if
it was compared with Devil's
Island) being interrogated (they
apparently thought I was a Cuban
revolutionary in Panama to lead
the overthrow of the "elected"
But that's another story . . .
formerly known as
Wow, even picking up on the left-wing, left-leaning, hate America
attitude so prevalent in current artistes today also. You are definitely
working on heading for the big time, eh.
If you're gonna be dumb, you better be tough
Actually, I stole that one from a Native American comedian.
He had a bit about their only White Man holiday they
celebrated - Halloween. They'd all dress up like White
Men and go up to houses yelling Trick or Treaty!
I added the Euro Trash
I'm not sure when The Right Wing changed the meaning
of being critical of something that one believes is wrong
to mean "hate" but if I encounter something I perceive/
believe to be wrong I'll criticise it - and do what I
can to make it less wrong, if I can't make it right. The
piece of paper I have that says I'm a citizen of The
United States gives me the right to do that.
As for the America of "hate America", anyone born
in The Americas, north, central and south, is an
"American". We citizens of The United States of
America often forget how exclusive we try to be
and the affect that has on how people in the
rest of the world see us, or more specifically
our foreign policy.
We ain't perfect but we're working on it.
And as for heading for the big time - if that were
the case I'd head for D.C. cause that's where the
power and the big bucks really are.
Ain't no artist that ever started a war, redefined
the Consumer Price Index, opened the U.S.
Treasury to the Savings and Loan "industry",
or developed a domestic AND foreign policy
that keeps us dependent on oil - and foreign
oil at that.
It's not Barbara Stteisand I'm worried about, it's
Carl R and Donald R and the boys who are really
affecting me and mine. Dunya's jsut along
for the ride so I don't worry about him at all.
want to talk about continents, ok. Then you say
you are a North American, a European, an African
etc. On that basis, born in South American makes
one a South American, not an American. Who besides
Europeans identify themselves by continent? Most
people identify themselves by country, and the USA
is the only country with America in the name.
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