Here is a little taste of Ithaca in the summer. This is "first dam" within the 6 Mile Creek flower preserve. As you can see, on hot summer days it is a frequented spot to cool off.....and do some cliff jumping. This is just one of many swimming holes around Ithaca and one of the most accessible spots. There are many more areas that are more remote and therefore less crowded, but I think that these photos capture the unifying energy of people trying to cool off on a hot, muggy, day. This is a large part of what summer means to me. If you have never been to Ithaca, you should definitely visit during the summer and enjoy some of these beautiful places.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Holy Is His Ghost
for those who don't know, i'm colloborating on an album with ben nester. the approach and philosophy of the music makes for a long story which will be made more apparent once it's released, but the reason i mention this is because i'm feeling very compelled to give my spare time to working on the music, but also wanting to continue contributing to and and engaging with what we're up to here. so...i think i will begin posting song lyrics that i'm working on and would appreciate any criticisms yall have for me. for the purposes of this post, i'll share a bit about the project: it's a concept album about a man who is in the midst of a series of dark nights of the soul - teetering toward the brink - feeling at odds with his maker - feeling that he is beyond repair. below is a song in progress that will probably fall into the number 2 slot on the album. the collage photo comes from a few shots i took while in AZ recently and one shot here at home.
Holy Is His Ghost
walkin’ on down to the liquor store
told myself that i could live with more
death’s face came roamin’ cross my mind
old demons whisperin’ thru the pines
i left home without a word to say
pitched my tent beneath the milky way
red eyes that brimmed with tears and stars
sang out to passing highway cars
amblin’ on down to the southern coast
i had a run in with the Holy Ghost
He whispered thru my ready gun
consoled me like a setting sun
i fell asleep beside the ocean blue
i dreamt that i was home in bed with you
cruel men attacked me where i laid
but they could not strip me of this weight
takin’ shade outside the stop and go
exchanging thoughts with birds and radio
i spoke their voices in my mind
as though i’d not left them behind
i spent a night or two in county jail
some stranger came along and paid my bail
i should have seen it in his eyes
i should have seen through his disguise
told myself that i could live with more
death’s face came roamin’ cross my mind
old demons whisperin’ thru the pines
i left home without a word to say
pitched my tent beneath the milky way
red eyes that brimmed with tears and stars
sang out to passing highway cars
amblin’ on down to the southern coast
i had a run in with the Holy Ghost
He whispered thru my ready gun
consoled me like a setting sun
i fell asleep beside the ocean blue
i dreamt that i was home in bed with you
cruel men attacked me where i laid
but they could not strip me of this weight
takin’ shade outside the stop and go
exchanging thoughts with birds and radio
i spoke their voices in my mind
as though i’d not left them behind
i spent a night or two in county jail
some stranger came along and paid my bail
i should have seen it in his eyes
i should have seen through his disguise
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
...LUNGS...
A sigh of breeze...
Constant...
Inconsistent...
Highs and lows...
Aura(l) spindrift without ebb and flow.
This is a body like none other,
Breath without rise and fall.
Tree-line chests swell-
A rhythm not of this world.
Stems quiver in flexed respiration-
Endless inhalation.
Invisible currents stream above,
Until they go spiriting through the leaves,
Coursing between branches and boughs,
Resuscitating these bark clad- dead dry bones.
Constant...
Inconsistent...
Highs and lows...
Aura(l) spindrift without ebb and flow.
This is a body like none other,
Breath without rise and fall.
Tree-line chests swell-
A rhythm not of this world.
Stems quiver in flexed respiration-
Endless inhalation.
Invisible currents stream above,
Until they go spiriting through the leaves,
Coursing between branches and boughs,
Resuscitating these bark clad- dead dry bones.
Labels:
BlackForrestry,
josh's art,
Josh's photos,
ramblings
Saturday, June 19, 2010
...ARISE; SHINE...
Arise; shine,
The glory has come,
And light rises,
From the tips of tongues.
Let's be a tree,
Planted by rivers of song,
Twisted together-
The 2 become 1.
Canals flood to caverns,
With tones that abound,
As temples exhale-
Rejoicing sounds.
True eucharist is more,
Than bread and wine.
Communion is the mingling,
Of our bodies and minds.
Lift up the head.
Open your gate.
Erupting with melody,
Glory's stream awaits.
arise; shine
your light has come.
Arise; Shine,
Your light has come!!!
ARISE; SHINE,
YOUR LIGHT HAS COME!!!
The glory has come,
And light rises,
From the tips of tongues.
Let's be a tree,
Planted by rivers of song,
Twisted together-
The 2 become 1.
Canals flood to caverns,
With tones that abound,
As temples exhale-
Rejoicing sounds.
True eucharist is more,
Than bread and wine.
Communion is the mingling,
Of our bodies and minds.
Lift up the head.
Open your gate.
Erupting with melody,
Glory's stream awaits.
arise; shine
your light has come.
Arise; Shine,
Your light has come!!!
ARISE; SHINE,
YOUR LIGHT HAS COME!!!
Labels:
BlackForrestry,
ideas,
josh's art,
ramblings,
thoughts
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
skyscraper
hey guys. love the stuff that you two have been putting up. this is a poem that was birthed out of justin's window photo. love that picture man. the poem may feel somewhat aloof from the photo, but it was definitely inspired by it. hope you like it. do you have a name for that shot justin? it's not critical - just curious. i would love any input about the poem, especially on the title - that's always the hardest part for me. "skyscraper" has no bearing or significance on the poem itself - just a cool word that i plucked out that feels in contrast to the poem itself. i'm open to new suggestions.
skyscraper
at times
coming back from a dream
i’m struck with a synaptic burst of some kind
wham
straight thru the body
electrifying sensory receptors like a brush fire
crashing in like a wave that immediately drags itself back out
a spell of clairvoyance maybe
can’t say for sure
once it has moved on to wherever it goes
i’m left with only a remnant of what it was
i lay there as though searching for a particular word or name
waiting for the revelation
“wait for it!”
nothing
there is something though
one thing tends to stay -
it’s something like the deja vu
that smacks of a misplaced dream:
I get the sure, yet vague sense
that one morning
i will wake up in the very same house
in the very same room
and as though my window were a slide projector
without warning or surprise
i will look up and see something altogether new
strange how natural it is in me
i’m not sure what it will be
in place of the barn - perhaps a skyscraper
instead of a patch of trees and a gently sloping stretch of grass
there may be a patch of clouds - no landscape beneath
i’ll stroll over
place my hands upon the sill
peer downward
and there – a great distance beneath me
- the sea
there’s no knowing
it’s not that I despise my plot in life
i’m content enough
i take great pleasure in my barn
as well as it’s inhabitants
i never tire of our tree patch
i’ve never cared too much for skyscrapers
but all the same
now & again
for reasons beyond me
wham
skyscraper
at times
coming back from a dream
i’m struck with a synaptic burst of some kind
wham
straight thru the body
electrifying sensory receptors like a brush fire
crashing in like a wave that immediately drags itself back out
a spell of clairvoyance maybe
can’t say for sure
once it has moved on to wherever it goes
i’m left with only a remnant of what it was
i lay there as though searching for a particular word or name
waiting for the revelation
“wait for it!”
nothing
there is something though
one thing tends to stay -
it’s something like the deja vu
that smacks of a misplaced dream:
I get the sure, yet vague sense
that one morning
i will wake up in the very same house
in the very same room
and as though my window were a slide projector
without warning or surprise
i will look up and see something altogether new
strange how natural it is in me
i’m not sure what it will be
in place of the barn - perhaps a skyscraper
instead of a patch of trees and a gently sloping stretch of grass
there may be a patch of clouds - no landscape beneath
i’ll stroll over
place my hands upon the sill
peer downward
and there – a great distance beneath me
- the sea
there’s no knowing
it’s not that I despise my plot in life
i’m content enough
i take great pleasure in my barn
as well as it’s inhabitants
i never tire of our tree patch
i’ve never cared too much for skyscrapers
but all the same
now & again
for reasons beyond me
wham
Monday, June 7, 2010
Consum(mat)ing
In response to Josh's "Symbiotic Parasitism." It gave me a strange, religious feel. Body and blood. Lord. Consume me. Host... very cool. At the same time though, when I think "parasite," god doesn't come to mind, but fear. Do they go hand in hand, do they rely on each other? A lot to analyze. Very cool, especially because it is so succinct. So, I wanted to play around with something surreal in response, but something with a religious vibe... I thought about the title for a bit, and your poem's double meaning-- and tried to have the same feel. Consummation obviously has a denotation of sexual completion, but to consume can mean so many things,(sexual, as well--) so I combined the two. Just like you did in my interpretation of your poem-- with the contrast between religion and foreign fear, in one thought. Anyhow, it's late. I just had to throw something together before bed, or I'd have lost my train of thought. I really enjoyed your "ramblings." I hope you enjoy mine.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
...SYMBIOTIC PARASITISM...
Host me.
Be my host.
[Let me feed on your body and blood,
{LORD OF HOSTS,]
Allow me to host you.}
Consume me.
Abide...
In me...
In you.
Be my host.
[Let me feed on your body and blood,
{LORD OF HOSTS,]
Allow me to host you.}
Consume me.
Abide...
In me...
In you.
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