tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52419376776580213232024-02-21T12:30:46.703-05:00Ripe Off the Lemming Tree!rest in its shade and you shall see / one must charge off cliffs to truly be free.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-10036550263708753832010-03-24T22:35:00.001-04:002010-03-24T22:37:11.376-04:00someplace I can see the mountainssomeplace i can see the mountains I AM far over the rooftops ridges in the mistwe are in golden sunlight under purple sky mad energy direct from RA<br /><br />Lucrates, Mr. Sweetleaf & Mebarefootstanding on the roof Ozan slipped down trying to climb up in his socks he brought us a such a glorious fat spliff<br /><br />birds in yellow and pinkfly toward the mountains--craziest cloud formations i ever saw taking me back to the amazon 14 years oldwith dad on the riverboat i took a picture of the sunset<br /><br />here now aotearoa land of the long white cloud where Polly and i talk blissed acid trips energy & the Way memories of the flood we survived together & the whole Rainbow family dancing in the streets of Haast shivering with joy in the suburban void<br /><br />powerlines leading up to the cross don't obstruct the view--they paint the lines of a masterpiece faroff siren and off beat tribal drum in the garden below--perfect soundtrack to the fivestar film called RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW<br /><br />wind in my hair and the last few streaks of orange refuse to say their goodnight's until finally Ra tucks in the last of his divine sunray children and i sing them a lullaby in love with the jagged horizon someplace I can see the mountains I AMDanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-86560015609201775802009-10-14T20:26:00.002-04:002009-10-14T20:35:15.904-04:00while we sleep (love before first sight)love cannot wait for the moment<div>our eyes meet</div><div><br /></div><div>so our spirits sneak out and liaison</div><div>while we sleep</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-35883236648416636792009-10-14T20:13:00.002-04:002009-10-14T20:25:52.936-04:00revolución. de amor. ahora.<div>REVOLUTION OF LOVE<div>Hugs to all en mass</div><div>Spreading the vibe of white light all over the WORLD with Radical living</div><div>Song and dance.</div><div>A desire and unfolding fulfillment of all hearts being connected will be EXPONENTIAL!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>We will break down the invisible castle walls that pervade our daily interactions, that leave us in our inner bubble thinking of the self instead of the grander self of all that IS. </div><div><br /></div><div>Turning of the world's attention outward to all life, seeing the universe as ONE holy infinite timeless wonder, one sacred moment in boundless mystery, along with a realization that HEAVEN is on EARTH and within our power to achieve, by mass radical love, manifesting itself in each action.</div><div><br /></div><div>An army of light will rise up and show the world a new way, a sustainable utopia of community is possible- focus on the white Light flowing between all souls and LIVE AS ONE</div><div><br /></div><div>REVOLUTION</div></div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-38009641273898556262009-08-18T13:50:00.002-04:002009-08-18T14:16:50.922-04:00and this is how i know we are onethe tree that shades my head against the heat took root<br />in the dust of my ancestor's remains<br /><br />i, too, will one day turn to earth<br />and the grass will pay homage to my memory<br />by growing thick and lush<br />and my great grandchildren will free their toes<br />in its glorious green and laugh<br /><br />and i laugh too, for i am content<br />with my part in the great unending cycle<br /><br />but-- i will not rest until<br />i have made of it the best & i will<br />climb up up to the crest of existence and<br /><br />leap!<br /><br />that's death<br />and i am<br />at peace<br />with this.<br /><br />a leaf being slowly lowered to the earth<br />by the dancing hands of the wind<br /><br />snow in the spring sun, melting without protest<br />plays martyr to the thirst of budding green<br /><br />dandelions being blown to pieces by overzealous children<br />give life to the next yellow-headed generation...<br /><br />it's all a bell<br />ringing on and on<br />resonating from the heart of Life<br />and existence is just an echoDanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-8268390313489942092009-07-14T09:56:00.003-04:002009-07-14T10:01:27.028-04:00i understoodmy eyes are open<div>but i walk through fields of dreams</div><div><br /></div><div>i am stronger today</div><div>less a boy and more a man</div><div><br /></div><div>ah, the infinite questions</div><div>better to focus on one another's eyes</div><div><br /></div><div>we don't pretend to know what this is</div><div>labels do not suffice to explain the actions of the soul</div><div><br /></div><div>i have learned</div><div>not to hold my heart back, to let it dance</div><div><br /></div><div>and when i opened my arms to the sun</div><div>(to you) i felt my soul bloom like a lotus and i</div><div><br /></div><div>understood</div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-1226685362494194132009-06-30T12:35:00.003-04:002009-06-30T12:42:53.022-04:00bonesskin longs to be<br />against skin<br /><br />and flesh<br />against flesh<br />(the eternal desire)<br /><br />but bones, bones<br />our bones<br />reunite<br /><br />only in the grave.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-15926801046299372672009-06-30T12:29:00.002-04:002009-06-30T12:35:46.733-04:00bluebirdi am the innocent misled bluebird<br />that tried to fly inside the house one year<br />& was cruelly denied by a fresh & sparkling window.<br />stunned<br />because all he wanted was to explore his world<br />a little deeper.<br /><br />it's not so easy, being an adventurer<br />but i'll pick myself from the gravel<br />& fly again.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-19188580166988987312009-06-13T16:27:00.003-04:002009-06-13T16:39:33.399-04:00aventura...the realities (some delicious, some harsh) of our dreams are in the tiny details, the ones you can only see when they get right up in your face...<div><br /></div><div>i set out tomorrow, along with two dear friends, on a grand adventure. we will ride our bikes to canada, bringing guitars to play in the streets for food money, stealth camping or <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.com/">couchsurfing</a> by night, pedaling on to whatever the road may bring by day... this will last through the end of july, if all goes according to plan / desire and i am indeed accepted to volunteer for <a href="http://www.invisiblechildren.com/">invisible children</a>, in which case i'll be flying to san diego at the beginning of august. </div><div><br /></div><div>you can follow our trip over at <a href="http://www.threebusketeers.blogspot.com/">the three busketeers</a>, our trip blog. it has an interactive google map, pictures, writing contributions from all of us, and of course a DONATE button! :) we don't have very much money. </div><div><br /></div><div>during this journey i will be writing as much as possible. every single day. taking into account every detail of the Life inside and outside of me. some of that may find a home on this blog, maybe, maybe not. </div><div><br /></div><div>i hope that you find peace in your heart</div><div>i hope that love will touch you</div><div>i hope that you realize the beauty around you and marvel at it</div><div>i hope you are filled with Life.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 51, 153); font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;"><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">“What is the feeling when you're driving away from people, and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? -it's the too huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.” - Jack Kerouac, from </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">On the Road</span></span></i></span></blockquote></span></div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-70358798088036697592009-06-07T22:59:00.004-04:002009-06-07T23:04:44.985-04:00the truth about geysers / the subterranean tangosomewhere, deep, underground<div>there is a hallowed dancefloor where i tango with my one true love</div><div>we are subterranean dolphins doing backflips in the dirt</div><div>and when we come to the surface </div><div>to breathe through the eyes in our backs,</div><div>they call it a geyser.</div><div><br /></div><div>we may be Old but we will be Faithful</div><div>until the muddy end.</div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-13734894753890345822009-05-22T00:04:00.007-04:002009-06-06T01:47:58.188-04:00the pricepainted steel & wood frameworks arch high into the blue<br />rush of wind and whirr of rollers on twisted tracks<br /><br />the masses curse the length of hot sweaty zigzagging lines<br />that they paid the price of a dozen meals to stand in<br /><br />i want to lose my voice screaming<br />but not while a child loses her voice permanently!<br /><br />starved<br /><br />& her mother's parched vocal cords no longer can sound the pained melody<br />of the mourning song<br />you could barely hear it,<br />the city's rumble-grumble of greed<br />drowning her out<br /><br />along with me, and you, and the screams<br />the click-click-clack of the coaster track & rush of wind<br />drowning her out<br /><br />pushing past the site of her grief<br />to secure our place in line<br />for a thirty second thrill<br /><br />rolling to a halt all dizzy and just in time<br />to buy a ten dollar sandwich and curse<br />the price.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-72966981149002212262009-05-12T19:53:00.002-04:002009-05-12T20:11:17.845-04:00may seventhe river flows buena onda<br />smooth beats the rhythm of my essence<br />and sprained ankles can still tap to the music...<br />living, it's a flow, it's love<br />it's a piano played for the audience of the universe with nothing but joy the reward<br />it's laughter & desire, thanks<br />to the spirit that moves in me and you and her and him<br />makes us all DANCE<br />holding hands in a rainbow circle of the soul green grass in our toes...<br /><br />freedom comes from the inside<br />it's what bows the violin of an Auschwitz musician<br />it's the pen of the drafted poet in boot camp<br />and every man seeks what he has already<br />deep inside<br /><br />some say that the effect of closing one's eyes is a temporary blindness<br />but the truth is<br />to look within is to zoom out panorama widescreen<br />and the whole world lies in a single human heartDanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-32890581908806921842009-05-03T00:27:00.003-04:002009-05-04T22:09:10.364-04:00my heart achesto be with those with whom i have once connected on that soul level<br />the ones with whom i've shared beautiful moments, beautiful but fleeting<br />be it weeks, days, or hours, our time was short<br />and one or both of us was forced by circumstance and distance to return to our separate lives<br /><br />CJ in Harrisburg... you became like my sister in only two sleepless days and nights, living radically to save lives, walking around in the city barefoot at 5AM & laughing<br />Diana G, wherever she is... music & the love of life brought us together the evening of valentines day<br />Abi, [insert higher power of choice] knows where you are, other than in my fondest memories, i wish we were still in argentina reveling in freedom and joy, snowboarding, drinking local beer and dancing to reggae<br />George from ? who I talked to about life on the Capitol steps for hours in the middle of the night... you told my your stories and i told you my plans and we smiled because we knew we were kindred spirits even though i think you're thirty years older<br />Johanna... i miss laughing deeper than anything with you & protecting you from guys twice my size in the club, and hiking up Cerro Otto & i know that you are my second sister<br />Heloisa in Brasil, peaceful teacher and soul-mentor... we danced and meditated and shared our wisdom and love in broken spanish & it was so beautiful...you welcomed me into your home and heart like none other...<br /><br />all of these hold pieces of my heart & they are scattered across the globe. of course there are those with whom i am still with geographically, and those with whom i have been able to commune with for years of our lives, and i do not discount them in the least... however, in this moment my collective yearning is for these beautiful people whose physical existences were aligned with mine for only a short time...a flash in the vastness of time and space but each moment was a star a shooting star and may it be that we may see one another once again and dreams of stars will turn into smiling eyes.<br /><br />connection is magical. when we feel so ALIVE and everything is beautiful because our souls reach out and hug each other's. we know the truth of life without knowing or needing the words for it.<br /><br />and now i will hobble back to my room resting in the knowledge that it wasn't all a dream. every wonderful experience, transcendental moment, loving encounter, beautiful life-filled time that i have had has always seemed so surreal when looking back on it, almost unbelievable like i saw a movie through my own eyes... and it's always accompanied by some kind of pain, i suppose because what was once is no longer... it's a good pain, it's the ache that reminds us we are alive and it's buried deep in the chest where our faithful hearts keep pumping the blood that lets us live on for another day of seeking life & love & a soul to connect with.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-11013621269896974492009-05-02T23:42:00.003-04:002009-05-03T00:24:11.060-04:00and if we are Lovers of Lifewe will take care of our mother the earth<br />we will love our fellow man without inhibition or fear<br />we will rejoice at the color in the grass and they sky and give thanks when the winds stroke our hair<br />we will open our minds and hearts to all<br />we will give of ourselves and what we have with joy<br />we will do everything we can to help the unfortunate, dry tears and save lives<br />we will be driven by passion for all life sentient and non-sentient, preserving, sending love into the atmosphere<br />we will fill the earth with positive energy<br />we will be free radicals never saying no unless it endangers love or life<br />we will never stop learning of others, their cultures and what makes their souls smile<br /><br />we will sing and dance and lie in the grass because this dirt and these trees, friends and beasts and our very lives are all oneDanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-88583697608420356632009-03-28T23:10:00.002-04:002009-03-28T23:30:59.143-04:00yesterday / dawnayer yo vi la cara<br />del viento, y en sus ojos<br />pude ver la sangre<br />de un mil corazones rotos.<br /><br />translation:<br /><br />yesterday i saw the face<br />of the wind, and in its eyes<br />i could see the blood<br />of a thousand broken hearts.<br /><br />i like it better in spanish. like most things. spanish is beautiful, it's like a golden misty morning.<br /><br />exactly one week ago i came home at 5 AM and chanced to look up into the sky. the stars were bright like backlit diamonds. i took my sleeping bag and two blankets and climbed onto the roof of my shed where it's mostly flat. from that throne i watched the sky as it turned from black to navy to blue to lighter blue and orange began to fan itself up further and further and then i fell asleep. it was beautiful.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-9881022305967486812009-03-14T03:54:00.008-04:002009-03-14T04:29:07.989-04:00sueño de la madrugada<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56-wv_GohSnkOl2wZeIXCgkrRpq-NV87hsP0rtLsDQDDldPrXdUuqhHZ5SuWH5xwko5S5vY15Wjzc8D2l64P8SSKgqPIZya6fMH-o8uXrXh7hcqD_9sWm34s0VSl6IxxZYC9Eq_ZIglE/s1600-h/Psycho+Mountain_small.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56-wv_GohSnkOl2wZeIXCgkrRpq-NV87hsP0rtLsDQDDldPrXdUuqhHZ5SuWH5xwko5S5vY15Wjzc8D2l64P8SSKgqPIZya6fMH-o8uXrXh7hcqD_9sWm34s0VSl6IxxZYC9Eq_ZIglE/s400/Psycho+Mountain_small.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312957566933034194" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>in my dream we rise together</div><div>in my dream we never sleep</div><div>in my dream our souls are free</div><div>to leave our bodies in the deep</div><div><br /></div><div>in my dream you are my lover<br /></div><div>in my dream i have a heart</div><div>in my dream you take my hand and whisper</div><div>never shall we part.</div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-80229709219883791132009-03-05T14:09:00.003-05:002009-03-05T14:21:46.303-05:00who am i<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQvcwBxDFjOdevgv_RgGCUQeYNN3MrGjUqH4iirKnb_J28NO1rQdSeYjevMSz-WmjepwrpIVitSRupXtHvs0srF0r9jx-_OKsgFFHrmGUBpSqmDayKiZ802v4sTTPvoYIaum5WGeExmQ/s1600-h/Dan+Wagner+%2B+Courtney_White.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQvcwBxDFjOdevgv_RgGCUQeYNN3MrGjUqH4iirKnb_J28NO1rQdSeYjevMSz-WmjepwrpIVitSRupXtHvs0srF0r9jx-_OKsgFFHrmGUBpSqmDayKiZ802v4sTTPvoYIaum5WGeExmQ/s400/Dan+Wagner+%2B+Courtney_White.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309785891278746258" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0_gjUKHAN-QQFDPgGlNvYoSqKBT4H_SLG8UDXSzcfH6bXVbd0khJAOKzuUVIx0XPXkbb6TZtoWTbDaAoruq68fdsTQ_V0l4uVely6WZTnHnh-mHIFeV7VX600QckHy6gad4aU0Bv4Suk/s1600-h/Dan+Wagner+%2B+Courtney_White.jpg"><br /></a>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-67111444106409032072009-03-03T21:45:00.004-05:002009-03-03T22:04:50.965-05:00a little spanish poem of the momentesto es lo que yo no puedo explicar<br />como la luna, cada noche, grita por el mar<br /><br />pero dame una mano y vamos a vagar<br />yo se solamente que quiero explorar!Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-15061700731529542522009-02-27T21:59:00.006-05:002009-02-27T22:23:36.246-05:00my arti am bursting with ideas since coming up with a new photo technique. (i'm sure others have done it as well, but i thought it in my head uninfluenced...) it involves long exposures in a completely dark room and manual fired flashes and sometimes flashlights. a glimpse of the insanity:<div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9jQVbtAavz04KzI19aeVMVZ_MK4Bcmr9vUN62a_qcixQ4QoKoIe0ZnGjBJNmIGQdUerWzVGIKCSslYANQYCyplPP52OyjuRcP1Z8xqM2hIzQrgS-GizGZbWKnH3q7XsxtmylRtOrDqg/s1600-h/Daren,+Burning.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></a><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9jQVbtAavz04KzI19aeVMVZ_MK4Bcmr9vUN62a_qcixQ4QoKoIe0ZnGjBJNmIGQdUerWzVGIKCSslYANQYCyplPP52OyjuRcP1Z8xqM2hIzQrgS-GizGZbWKnH3q7XsxtmylRtOrDqg/s400/Daren,+Burning.jpg" style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 400px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307678730754050978" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfobooCRLzNahiyCOe0Q5_-2DX8YIRfUvzFtOVKz7qQtJZbCIcAqyn0RdOWF67TE6i4xT6ggBrqf3nmfjE-08Ku_oHWwB4SdIv4yObaMig78nyIq12cceRGzsH7I5wxRVibsVF7tRPls/s1600-h/Split_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfobooCRLzNahiyCOe0Q5_-2DX8YIRfUvzFtOVKz7qQtJZbCIcAqyn0RdOWF67TE6i4xT6ggBrqf3nmfjE-08Ku_oHWwB4SdIv4yObaMig78nyIq12cceRGzsH7I5wxRVibsVF7tRPls/s400/Split_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307682696853327426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8bKEDWrnW9-hTpoh183X_zthw0NsR4GSKc4NpXzxo0qOknSrqkwWt8tOHd45WRlLjdByRgEjKgfU8hEWaDAOQTY20g_QwqfDgjOia30z6EoTDJr_6miY1BPRuhH0DfOxyoTJlO1ca-E/s1600-h/Justin.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8bKEDWrnW9-hTpoh183X_zthw0NsR4GSKc4NpXzxo0qOknSrqkwWt8tOHd45WRlLjdByRgEjKgfU8hEWaDAOQTY20g_QwqfDgjOia30z6EoTDJr_6miY1BPRuhH0DfOxyoTJlO1ca-E/s400/Justin.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307682692979858162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiky69iQXg3jbN1gY6n7Qwe2ORKKQUP2OouYHhmiSgyAGbcT-p4jnZQQjnccFnzeuwkw3H7qxmayENGurORaeR7Nw8uAERH0NmyKLrg9YDzGc0N8prjcRUU7hj66S7M33iXYh91cXE6WeI/s1600-h/Andrea,+Emitting+Lightning.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiky69iQXg3jbN1gY6n7Qwe2ORKKQUP2OouYHhmiSgyAGbcT-p4jnZQQjnccFnzeuwkw3H7qxmayENGurORaeR7Nw8uAERH0NmyKLrg9YDzGc0N8prjcRUU7hj66S7M33iXYh91cXE6WeI/s400/Andrea,+Emitting+Lightning.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307682688760180962" /></a></div></div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-65284798958517328652009-02-21T23:37:00.002-05:002009-02-21T23:57:50.015-05:00one day i shall not be containedmy skin is tingling with energy<br /><br />i can't stop moving and i want more than anything to frolic free long into the night with anyone and everyone who feels this same massive exploding yearning to abandon cares and caution and "maturity" and to be mad insane radical children exploring the world all wide-eyed bringing home frogs in our pockets...<br /><br />one day not so far away i will have the freedom to do that. but for now, i am forced to sit inside this tomb and dream...Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-50557052058446368512009-02-17T17:12:00.002-05:002009-02-17T17:29:35.918-05:00the sliding glass doori saw a child of maybe three, a boy with curly black hair and an innocent face, running towards me from the other side of a clean curved piece of glass inside a curved wall. it was clear to me that i was inside some sort of fancy room and he, out. he did not stop as he ran at the glass. his face made contact at the cheek and stuck, while the rest of his body rose effortlessly from the ground. his neck was bent to facilitate a position of flying, and he smiled as he waved his limbs. i was quite delighted. it became clear to me that the glass was a door that could slide, and i stepped forward and pressed a red button on the wall. the glass began to slide, but the boy was not carried to the left along with it. he stayed in the middle of the opening while the glass slid along his chubby cheek. he was still flying and smiling. before the edge of the door reached him<br /><br />i woke up.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-83745749244498823542009-02-17T16:53:00.002-05:002009-02-17T17:11:39.391-05:00i drink in darknesswhat is this strange comfort that relaxes my muscles as i shut the locked door behind me?<br />what is this gleam that appears in my eye the second the light which would reveal it is snuffed out?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZodjhtZM_g5GXT7MoIduEf_uvxzeeSeZ4qzyTLEkOUyfs0SRGxCf4ORm01TVKD9LOSvTP5hFpOU9UVmBqa6YmKA6BnOmwiz_QgAOPpgjfNkGFGIZCsU8QCTi6Zlvpwf9i43BruayTjI/s1600-h/I+Drink+Darkness+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAZodjhtZM_g5GXT7MoIduEf_uvxzeeSeZ4qzyTLEkOUyfs0SRGxCf4ORm01TVKD9LOSvTP5hFpOU9UVmBqa6YmKA6BnOmwiz_QgAOPpgjfNkGFGIZCsU8QCTi6Zlvpwf9i43BruayTjI/s400/I+Drink+Darkness+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303892203486899362" border="0" /></a>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-88799731691777229702009-02-15T00:00:00.003-05:002009-02-15T08:53:52.221-05:00first breath after comaahhhh how beautiful to lose oneself in music, drown in its depth, joy, and pain, to journey incredible soundscapes sitting in a new friend's car late at night, sharing the epic soul moments and awakenings that we are given by the songs that we love--<div><br /></div><div>this is life! this is Life!! this is LIFE!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>telling and hearing stories of radical experiences, shy awkwardness giving way to serene understanding, falling over in the snow (always worth the joy of the slide), ditching the masses to walk in the icy air and marvel at the sky, trying to skip down the line in the middle of the road and running in erratic circles to stay warm, having a good cup of coffee with laughter...</div><div><br /></div><div>and when i squint just right at the streetlights they explode up into the sky like fireworks</div><div><br /></div><div>and when i look over to the drivers seat you are purely in the moment, head back and eyes closed mouthing the melody, air drumming with your hands and feet and i think about how beautiful your soul is my friend</div><div><br /></div><div>and now i can feel it rising all over me inside me and the shivers run up and down my body as the cymbals and the horns and the strings and the choir and the soaring melody carry me on their wings to new heights and my face is locked into the widest grin i've had in months and for once i Feel, life holding my heart in its hands at last </div><div><br /></div><div>and i will not hold it in any longer!!</div><div>i open my palms to the universe and i suck deep into my lungs my first breath after coma.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>------------------------------------------------------</div><div><br /></div><div>yes, my saturday night was magnificent. i have of late been starved of these moments, so it was a veritable feast... and although it was cut short by the worried calls of those upon whom i am dependent, i am nothing but grateful. to life, to aforementioned wonderful acquaintance rapidly turned friend, to the crafters of the music that connects to our souls, to pretty much everything... and i haven't felt alive like this in a long time, i have been a robot with a broken motherboard, searching for myself and my identity and drowning in the caustic rhetoric and routine of blue mountain academy... and i am so relieved to reconnect to myself, to live in the innocent and fun and beautiful moments. all it took to snap out of the fog was the right company and the right situation. how wonderful!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-57393640284421639572009-02-12T11:41:00.004-05:002009-02-17T17:11:59.774-05:00kick<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgn1_F04h1G1dMF-rI170F5wHY05f9096gbezYkTvIn7m5fLm8t0pQWIDI3ytugCzUlODJvk_B45tAobw1Fpb8eMYE2y7Eix0AjJrLhM3MWEx1oPp9mQLNEHs5et7cF6td5_nvdhhL1VU/s1600-h/sack+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgn1_F04h1G1dMF-rI170F5wHY05f9096gbezYkTvIn7m5fLm8t0pQWIDI3ytugCzUlODJvk_B45tAobw1Fpb8eMYE2y7Eix0AjJrLhM3MWEx1oPp9mQLNEHs5et7cF6td5_nvdhhL1VU/s400/sack+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301959437888168146" border="0" /></a>hackysack... one of my healthier escapesDanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-25400400612162724722009-02-09T21:46:00.004-05:002009-02-09T22:14:54.160-05:00some things that happened!today i bought wonderful boldly printed retro looking silky fabric to make a tie with. i will wear it with the black suit that i don't really like to wear, and i will feel fulfilled because i made it.<br /><br />this morning i meditated, the Kundalini meditation as taught by the late indian guru Osho, which includes shaking and dancing along with the whole lotus position being quiet deal that many imagine to be the sum of meditation. it is an hour long, consisting of 15 minute segments (shaking, dancing, sitting quietly, lying down peacefully) to specifically made music... i shook free all of the doubts and plagues and headaches of my mind from the last few days, and during the dance segment i was running through fields with joy, and then i was watching the sunrise with birds flying overhead, and then starting from my head i peeled my skin all the way off and shook around with my various unfettered bodily juices splashing everywhere, and i was really really happy, and then i put all my skin back on, and i was still happy. during the third stage the music is very haunting, and today i saw a mother crying for her dead child, and a brokenhearted lover, and i was very sad. then i cleared my mind and was very peaceful.<br /><br /><br />i thought about love.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/PYR/PP30911%7EIl-Baccio-Posters.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/PYR/PP30911%7EIl-Baccio-Posters.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5241937677658021323.post-71845669041345621232009-02-07T15:35:00.005-05:002009-02-07T16:08:01.478-05:00saturday morningdown, down, down, through rusty pipes, centuries old<br />the refuse of my abandon flows.<br />it is an angry, caustic river, and<br />the debris of its journey remains in my nose.Danhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08514745553950227933noreply@blogger.com0