The queen is hot, so get it on...

EscapeArtist

mmmh it is like automatic writing i think, It is like looking at an abstract painting , it means nothing , it just suggests .

but that's just my opinion, may be there is a meaning very "sharp" . In that case I don't catch it .

Think you've got it there... Abstract thought but missing a direct point, mostly musings from what I gather. It certainly is interesting.

olishea

It certainly is, I wasnt being bitchy btw I just didn't understand what was going on!!

nice work though, whatever it means!!

Durant Hapke

Brothers, and Sisters,

Bring it, and be it.

So, Sam totally spun out on me... Our youthful "shenanigans" are now gone, swallowed unceremoniously by an agitated swamp.

And actually, I am back from a road trip to the south, a place of swamps and screaming razor blade bugs, and primitive Jack bird reptiles.

And that would be "Buck Jack Blood Birds."

In the end, way to much nature there in Baton Rough, it seems to be a bit to thick for me.

So Samantha and I didn't really plan to end up there looking across bowls of gumbo at one another... Backs dusted with bathroom scouring powder... That action can give you a nasty rash... And it tastes as chemistry set as anything that's ever set foot in my mouth... But that's all for another day... She is still there... I am returning to digits and pixels.

And of course the Cat and the Fiddle.

Bring that, and pour me five.

Oh, back to gators -- I found out from this Jack down there, this dude who was in town buying paint for a boat house -- some scary dark shadow boondocks action -- this dude said alligators are amplifiers for negative "self constructs" -- negative self image -- same deal.

This leather skinned out back player said he'd spent a lot of time with the watery reptiles and that one needed to not be alone with them, and not look to long or deep into their eyes... He said one cigarette worth of staring is twice to long.

Apparently, your image goes into an eye, and then is amplified all impure, and then projected back at your action, and boom, your feel unappealing -- you are no magnet of action, you are just a sad bag of walking flesh.

And that got me thinking about discontent and how we secretly fight that Jack bird on the way into the studio or at night in our beds while we pretend to be asleep next to our Samanthas -- when inside -- inside we want to be a turn on to her -- we want to get laied and be the best at such -- this secret construct of wanting to get it on is seen complete and clear from some floating shadow Jack head eating alligators...

"Never have chick sex within the view of reptiles," this warning sounds worth keeping around... I like the way he said, "chick sex..."

Have been messing with the HS action... I'm feeling a burst of anti--sit up and get all complacent action building.

I dig the slam dance of that "little cubes of photo coming into view" action, but it needs some taming -- some baboon shader action.

Oh, and I'm developing a new notion a HGBD -- a "Hyperbolic Gland Bug Diagram" -- that might lead me to put some action together on old school paper, or what not.

So, bring the cold cuts and let us get it on beer and sandwich style.

Bite the Earl, the Earls of the fine meats and aged cheese.

And lots of brown bottles.

Durant "no grays in LA" Hapke

dale

Damn Durant it's been a while. Great stuff. Welcome back.

Durant Hapke

Brothers and Sisters,

Bring it.

A bit of a render about the underworld.

I've been dealing with so many thoughts lately about archetypes and such, and it's been kind of leading me into this "underworld" kind of a vibe.

I'm thinking it's not like "hell," rather more like a bunch of interesting caves and a bunch of strange Baton Rouge like kinds of weird animal action.

And, of course, there is nothing weirder then nature, you just have to Jack bird hand that action over to the evolution of this bulb we live on, it's a crazy bunch of crazy here.

I was thinking about all that stuff inside us -- well, I was actually reading this book called "humans have shadows in a bag," or "a little book on the human bag," or maybe it's a "shadow book of a bag..." I think that might be it -- Anyway, I was thinking about all the Jack action we keep inside us, questions and feelings that we just can't seem to get out on the table.

I have these, kinds of fish -- Idea Fish -- the big and little "IFs" -- swimming around inside me all the time, and I want them to be able to find their voice, I feel they may be some of the best things about me, but I can't bring them up from the underworld.

So very strange.

Durant "well cover" Hapke

olishea

seriously dude drugs are bad haha

nice scribbles

Stinkie

@unknownuser said:

Sorry but, I have no idea what you are on about. Can I get a translation please?

Depends on your willingness to try peyote.

Durant Hapke

Olishea of blasting eye shades,

Flip on the fire and weld fantastic!

No Jack bird reason to be all playing "I'm not on the radio..."

Your all about my action, and I do appreciate such.

Been thinking about how so often "drugs" are thrown into the dialog when creative and/or personal vision is out on view.

Not sure about such...

I've had my run in with all manner of "abusers" and they tent to be not all that slam action "on it" or creative... Not that dreamy...

Most are a bit "one way" in their thinking, always looking to "hook up" as it goes...

We all encounter all manner of altered states -- but they are fleeting in most cases... Not foundational, unless your living in with the plants, and animals.

That might be something -- "bring me some gum sap and lets do some sketching..."

I like that notion.

We have all spent a Jack bird amount of time in the studio (that area of my environment devoted to "putting it all together"), diligently working towards some kinky kinked illusive apparatus of insight -- pushing to break from the "map" onto the "territory," and into the true unknown.

It's this process that matters to me, the slam dance of creation, rather then the results.

So, the cards... About four years ago, I'm busting away, chop, chop, chopping at the keyboard, when I lean back in my chair, and say to myself, "you got to get into the Tarot, dude, bring that out, and read that action."

Don't fear the funk.

Bring all the funk.

1158 -- You are reading me fine, keep the dial tuned -- there are gaps, but the transmission never ends.

Bring that as you do, Stinkie, we orbit on!

And we do more.

Durant "I will bring a radio tube" Hapke

orgelf

"
Been thinking about how so often "drugs" are thrown into the dialog when creative and/or personal vision is out on view. "

totally agree with you .

olishea

when people speak in verse you tend to think something is going on lol

I mean do you talk to people verbally like this? didnt think so

but whatever floats your boat i suppose

orgelf

i understand .

I was answering at Durant about his sentencs , not about the way he wrote in this forum .I don't think he speaks to people like this , well I hope so

it is just that when people look at my works (drawings, paintings 3d) i have this usual question about "drugs" .

and I don't know how my boat floats , but , well , it does

olishea

lol it was a joke, it's no reflection on durant's work. I love it, very compelling stuff even though i'm not quite sure what it's about! But i'm sure his process is transparent and explains everything. Imagination (and boredom) is much more powerful than any drug.

i love your work too orgelf, out of this world.

orgelf

lol

ok

thanks for the "out of this world " , love it .

solo

The key to all of this is 'Jack bird', however I'm not sure I can explain it.

boofredlay

This is Jack's bird and he just brought it.

Durant Hapke

Brothers and Sisters,

Bring it.

Sprinkle me with your best action, Boofredlay, that indeed is Jack's action bird, and he is way bringing that hog -- Blasting so "yeah" -- my day is complete you are a saint.

Outstanding! Pour three!

It's a killer cool exchange here -- fearless fire power of the mind is "the game" -- connection and questioning -- and "slam dancing with ones muse" it foundational.

That's how most "artists" start out -- "I want my own music and my own dance and my curvy muse to get it on with."

Sex and creativity are two sides of the same coin -- and the smart Jack see this and kicks no one out of his nest.

Bring that and pour a cold one (covert drug reference).

There is this one dude you run into on PBS from time to time -- some low tech teacher dude -- he's using a slide projector most of the time -- his name is Jim Campbell, or Joe Cammbello, or Joseph Chambell, and he's the Jack bird that wrote the book that GWL ripped off when he cobbled together the script for STAR WARS -- (George Lucas: the time traveling director -- able to travel back in time and fungus rape one of my favorite films -- please read agitated lines at close of this spool).

So, this Star Wars rip off book... a book titled something like, "the Hero of many masks" -- or "A thousand masks" -- I got hold of a copy of it, and I was checking out some of his action, and he presents the notion that you have a choice to either become a shoe cobbler like your old man, and make your next of kin all happy and validated....

Or, you can choose to leave your "Jack boring rule creating culture" behind, and venture out into this kind of "wilderness of personal freedom" where you can be free to really kick it all out and evolve and be proactively real, and bring it with gusto.

Leaving the lawnmower back home.

However, it will be dangerous, filled with scary Jack buck dangers and shadows -- and to your next of kin -- and your neighbors -- you will be seen as part of that danger once you go into that woods.

If you go there -- out into the wilderness -- many of the folks you left back on the boat will imagine that your entering into a freak dance of destruction -- or at least your willing to "play with fire" -- and to many, that seems unreasonable and quite Jack bird scary.

However, this is also very sexy -- the danger is often arousing to a person who does not dwells there... Curves dig this, as it reeks of power, and bring it action.

Man dudes dig it to, but they are scared to let it be brought on them -- they are all insecure and "I'm want my chicks to bow down, I don't dig the inverse" -- but in point of fact they do, they're just not man enough to own that action... I digress.

Others want that kind of sexiness in their lives -- but they can't go out there into the dark woods, and be exposed to all those dangers (but they do it in there dreams -- that's another story all together), and so they stand at the edge of the woods and say, "oh, man, I would have to be on drugs or something to go into that place..."

And by inversion, the person living and thriving out in that scary, sexy, creative incubator of a woods, must have taken drugs to have gotten themselves out there.

And for them, it's true -- and I so dig that -- respect it as a personal deal -- there is no malice in that kind of a perspective -- it's more a mirror then anything else -- it speaks of the person who makes such statements more then anything else... And I embrace that.

If you are an artist of any kind -- musician, poet, painter, etc. -- you will hear at some point in your life, "Yo, Blink Monkey, your action is so rad, you must be sucking a massive crack bowl, brother, pass that action over, I want a hit off that corn cob..." Or some such thing like that...

I guess at some point, it just gets a little old... But then again, everything old is new again if you look at it with passion.

Your girlfriend can be the hot "bring it on" Muse, if you reboot and look at that mouth, and think about how badly you want a bit... Inviter her to the Cat and the Fiddle for a highball and say, "enough with my repetitive construct of you, baby, to night I want you to tell me about your life out in the woods!"

"I know you've been out there, and I know it looked to me like you were on drugs, but it was really the killer pumps that allowed you access -- the little extra inch of exposed thigh, and your expression of your art and lust."

You want to buy that girl a drink.

This awesome forum, is the best I've encountered.

The people who slam here are more artists then passers by, and they all have heart, and creativity on their minds.

Sketch Up is a tool to an inner place -- a bridge to the woods -- and to our grand parents, it is a "digital drug," we are taking over and over.

Make a sandwich and ponder.

This forum is not "reality" -- communication here is a smoky mist that travels the "electro stream" to coil out from our computer screens just as far as we need it to extend for us to hit return, or the next arrow key.

I would hope that the mists of my communications linger, and penetrate deeper into the "woods" of the readers minds then the common Jack vocabulary of office water cooler niceties.

"Hey, bring it in here, between the trunks, I got some Jack action for us to explore," or something like that.

Posting action here is about hosing the muse, and "steam powering" a extraordinary erection -- that's the candle in my shadowy forest.

Durant "LSD" Hapke

%(#004040)[*Posted May 7 -- 2007

Unknowable Target,

Bring the high-tech methods, you funky thaumaturge of space battle.

Your action is on, a thing I orbit, a thing of interplanetary penetration, and lust.

I want your thought glands, your nuggets of inspiration.

That dude George Lucas is now such a pathetic writer director, that his latest three horrifying films actually created a rip in time allowing him to go back to 1977 and destroy the original STAR WARS film.

What clumps of junk.

And that dumb little kid he brought in to be slave boy? What kind of slave lives with is mom, and gets to make cool crap out of junk all day long?

The little wiggler should be living in a ditch covered with a steel grate, and there should be all manner of retched scum and villainy tapping there flu shanks onto his noggin.

No fun robots -- just dirt, and bugs.

Going.

Going on it.

And, film two, or was it three, when some day to be Darth Vader, spins himself out into the desert to find his mommy bags (why he left her there on sad planet for so long is a whirling bit of confusion as well, but smoke what you have, or bum one), and he goes all “I’m a blood lusting mad killer, I’ll eat your little brains, the brains in your dangling skin sacks,” on the sand people... Who cuts the action there? Who cuts away from Anicananny’s homicidal blood letting of the retched sand clan?

George “I once knew how to make a film” Lucas.

And how do the funk brother Jedi knights get to use the force to cheat that crazy flying bug gland man deal, out of the greasy slave boy kid crap.

That’s not killer, it’s stink hole.

Durant “I digress” Hapke*]