The house was half way burned when I got there. They had built it in a parking lot and set it ablaze. These guys were working together to push this wall down while other parts burned.
The Man Behind the Hand
Friend took this picture of me with my camera. Wanting to float free, I then chopped, blended and stirred it into what you see. And what you see is not what you get. And so that you don't forget. Me. I'll save you a click on Flick, for the mile high profile behind the man. And the hand . . .
- - - - -
TYPE O-riginal hybrID:
[ this is NOT a typo, this is NOT A TEST, do NOT turn off your broadcast reception system ]
- Ocean bred > Hawaii roots, San Diego branches.
- English is my 2nd language. I do not have a 1st.
- Though monolingual (UN counting Pacific Islander Pidgin English), I do understand 'Somewhere In the Middle', 'Black & White', 'Gray', and of course, the much maligned and classically misunderstood 'Nonsensical', appreciating its DNA duality of simple / deep destruction of the allusive illusory. Translation: Skilled in Confusion Milked Past illUsion.
- Thanks to an attention spent deficiting the Unknown for decades, my vocabulary is limited to 300 words. Endlessly interchanged in intergalactic ways skooled and tooled illegal in an Alieny kinda way.
- I am NOT selfish because I have not made babies (yet) that I know of [note: unoriginal, obligatory 10 macho points just made]. I am selfish because I sell fish. That smells like B.S. (B.eyond S.imple). And I spend too much time on it. And I believe it. My own. And I own it. All thanks to 1 year. In kindergarten (mahalo Ms. Nishimura; even if you never married me). And thanks to Being 66 at Age 6. Disclaimer: DON'T try this at home. This is done by PROFESSionals in controlled settings.
- I am not NOT a professional.
- If ever I reach for a Ph.D, the cover page of my thesis will read: 'WHATEVER' by Keo 101.
- I once asked a woman if she had any children. She said, "No." To which I replied, "That you know of." She did NOT laugh.
DABBLING IN: Spoken Word poetry, abstract painting, corniness, photography, word creation, and dream manipulation. 2Infinity. Being my zip-code. Being. Zipped by this load.
Sip on this Bonus Bio Code:
Creatures great and small. Smiles churched upside down. Homeless on the town. Stereotypes gowned clown. Grown ups playing house on co-op'd playground. Grounded caffeinated spirituality Gone Wild. A lifetime pledge to NEVER utter the word beseech; cause I hate Shakespeare. Though I love pears. Though I hate spears; though I have fave'd at least 4 songs by one Britney Spears. Just when we were going Somewhere, politics neutered by The Decaf Party. Discussions drowned in skin toned striations versed red, Right and blues. EQUALs All things obsessing me via 24/7 hues. Smellin' of 7-Eleven booze; Colt 45 coated like (un) Reality T-V scripted in oxyMoron, slavin' like oxyCotton repurposed to cut off Peter's tale. Till you turn it off. Then you till it, then you kill it - - the machinated, media fertilized seeds dug Machine Jonesin' deep, The Dream we collectively keep. Layin' an ILLusion lyin' lion that makes me oh so WEep. Don't even get me started; less you have the minutes of 100 Monopoly games. Less you're ready to give up Boardwalk 100x without even tryin.' Less you're ready for fryin' of your mindin' by my free flowin' stream of consciousness rhymin.' I'm just sayin.'
And what I'm sayin' is: that I'm dangerous. to myself and Otherz. Because Cuz, let me break it down and boldly yell: BORED I DO NOT GET. Including staring at a blanco wall. Both a blessin' & Double D downfall (believe me, you don't want it). Thoughts kite flyin' border f-r-e-e, limited only by this vessel called Me. Results of which I'll only truly see in divinity; a mysterY where I can finally just . . . Be. Hopefully.
Until that fate, eye create.
Women are trained as engine mechanics in thorough Douglas training methods, Douglas Aircraft Company, Long Beach, Calif. (LOC)
Palmer, Alfred T.,, photographer.
Women are trained as engine mechanics in thorough Douglas training methods, Douglas Aircraft Company, Long Beach, Calif.
1 transparency : color.
Title from FSA or OWI agency caption.
Transfer from U.S. Office of War Information, 1944.
Douglas Aircraft Company
World War, 1939-1945
United States--California--Long Beach
Rights Info: No known restrictions on publication.
Repository: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA, hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.printPart Of: Farm Security Administration - Office of War Information Collection 12002-39 (DLC) 93845501
General information about the FSA/OWI Color Photographs is available at hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.fsacHigher resolution image is available (Persistent URL): hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/fsac.1a35329Call Number: LC-USW36-92
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We travel together, passengers on a little spaceship, dependent on it's vulnerable reserves of air and soil, all committed, for our safety, to it's security and peace. Preserved from annihilation only by the care, the work and the love we give our fragile craft.
In spite of my great admiration for individual splendid talents I do not accept the star system. Collective creative effort is the root of our kind of art. That requires ensemble acting and whoever mars that ensemble is committing a crime not only against his comrades but also against the very art of which he is the servant.
I love to hear a choir. I love the humanity to see the faces of real people devoting themselves to a piece of music. I like the teamwork. It makes me feel optimistic about the human race when I see them cooperating like that.
Now you can begin to see quite transparently that nothing purchased life is one of argument, If other people don't agree with you you're in big trouble. How far would you get in your work if nobody agreed that what you were doing had value?
If one of us could ascend to the heavenly realm and for a few hours accompany the divine on His daily rounds, he would see below millions of his fellow humans busily hurling themselves into the passions, sports, and action of those around him. But if our observer had the power and omniscience of the Lord, he would also feel and sense, pulsing through and vibrating from every one of us here below, a desperate and unending plea, Notice me! I want to be known admired, and loved by the whole world! And it is this, this glorious weakness, this dependence of ours on each other, that makes some of us usually heroes and fools at the same time.
Let's face it. In most of life we really are interdependent. We need each other. Staunch independence is an illusion, but heavy dependence isn't healthy, either. The only position of long-term strength is interdependence: win/win.