Mateus Bottles and Colored Melted Wax...

Being born in 1967 I grew up a child of the 70's. Empty Mateus bottles turned into candle holders with multi-colored candle sticks bought from Spencer's Gifts, incense, blacklight posters of black panthers in trees, macramé plant holders, vinyl records, color t.v.'s, flashy cars with chrome and leather couches as seats, bell-bottom jeans, Herbal Essence Shampoo, Goody combs with the big handles sticking out of your back pocket, 8-track boom boxes, Polaroid Insta-Matics, really straight hair or curlalicious fro's, cassette mix tapes, CB radios, bubblegum baseball trading cards of the Oakland A's Billy Martin's Mustache Gang, Hot Wheels, water rockets, dune buggies, and M-80's to blow up mailboxes of the grumpy old men telling us to get off their yard...
Did I mention phones or computers? Nope. A phone was a quick call to meet up somewhere and a computer was something the government had.
This will not be some "When I was a kid we walked in the snow 40 miles to school and we were THANKFUL we could!" kinda crap. We are in a new age. A new revolution. The digital age is here. Like when the industrial age showed up, many jobs were lost because they were replaced by machines. We had to make up new jobs, new ways of doing things, new ways of life. It's that time again. A refresh button on the world.
My greatest hope is that we can change from being a wasteful society to a useful one. Reuse not refuse. Creation not destruction. Upgrade not throwaway. Connection not separation. Understanding not ignorance.
Time will tell. Eventually another revolution will come and wipe away what is now into a yellowed memory. Until then I'm gonna grab a pillow, lay on my wooden floor and put on my "Hot Buttered Soul" album by Issac Hayes and listen to him talk for 8 minutes before he even sings "By the Time I Get to Phoenix"...

Leaving Bread Crumbs...

I'm leaving bread crumbs.

When you leave bread crumbs, you want to be found. Though, halfhearted, because the animals are gonna find those crumbs and eat them...maybe even eat you. There's a good chance you'll never be found. Not good prospects...but it's how I like it.

I'm still wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday. A vintage brown Italian Hounds tooth wool jacket...a sky blue button-snap shirt...a brown tie with golf floral design and little knights on horses jousting...flared blue jeans...brown leather Italian shoes with square tips...a little greasier...face courser with a shadow growing...the shadow will be a small shrub in a few days. I thought that was cool when I was in seventh grade. Now...hmmmm...I don't know. I've had facial since I was 13. I like it because I stick out, but it also covers me up.

Just like this bread crumb thing called the internet. It must be some crazy character flaw I have. Seen but not known. I try to be as honest as I can writing this verbal defecation. It opens me up, and I know I need to do it. To be open. But open is scary too. It's amazing how fast people draw sides, make decisions on other people. Friend or foe. I automatically have new friends and enemies simply by being seen...to be found.

Am I left wing? Right wing? A meat eater? Do I have a sailors mouth? Is Jesus my savior? Has my cock passed the quota of allowed cunts in a life time? Am I an acoustic artist? Too much distortion? Not enough? Is my wit too...umm? Or do I even have a wit? Do I know how to put together clothes in an interesting and creative way?

All these questions have answers...and these answers will make friends and enemies.

Why do I want to be found? Why the hell do I want to be known? Hence the bread crumbs. Honestly... I admit I do want those things, but I am content if I never get them. I like being lost in my forest, but I don't mind a few visitors from time to time.


Sent from the Black Forest...