Monday, February 27, 2017

MORE OF EVERYTHING FOREVER

One of my responses to the current politics is to  post daily here, be creative, stay weird, stay specific, stay in place.  I'm wary of social media blurts about politics, choosing to focus that energy on a phone call to a state or DC office. 

I got this rad colored pencil set at Costco for about eleven bucks.  And I laughed at the benign but mischievous house goblins in A Letter To Momo at the KC Japanese Film Fest yesterday.  This weird character showed up in my notebook. 

The festival and spending the afternoon with my nephew and his pals was a blast.  But I did not need to order the loaded fries.  Demon appetite.

PLEASE DON'T FEED THE DEMON



Sunday, February 26, 2017

SHARPIE GUITAR


*****

Warning: when you buy Sharpies on Amazon, the packaging is dumb. 

***** 



I am excited about going to the 2017 Kansas City Japanese Film Festival today at The Alamo.  I'm meeting my nephew Aaron and his sweetheart downtown--one of the great things about being in KC.  I am going to sit out Pokemon.  If it were Grape Ape and Jabberjaw, I would go.

11:30 - 1:30 Pokemon
2:00 - 4:00 A Letter to Momo
4:30 - 6:30 Summer Wars
7:00 - 9:00 Tokyo Godfathers

Saturday, February 25, 2017

DROP A GRAND WITH THE HORNS OF MANITOBA

GUS 


Gus Blanzden was in town last night and played conch with  Pinky Pierson in The Horns of Manitoba, on stage with Drop A Grand.  Milemarker followed and Shiner headlined.
 
THE HORNS OF MANITOBA '84



DROP A GRAND



Shiner was celebrating the release of Lula Divinia on vinyl, and they sounded awesome. 



Friday, February 24, 2017

NICE BOWL!

I was zonin' this morning watching some steel cut oats dance around in a pot while the coffee maker gurgled, and thought of this David Budbill poem I had on my fridge for a long time.  

Bugs in a Bowl

Han Shan, that great and crazy, wonder-filled Chinese poet of a thousand years ago, said:

We're just like bugs in a bowl. All day going around never leaving their bowl.

I say, That's right! Every day climbing up
the steep sides, sliding back.

Over and over again. Around and around.
Up and back down.

Sit in the bottom of the bowl, head in your hands,
cry, moan, feel sorry for yourself.

Or. Look around. See your fellow bugs.
Walk around.

Say, Hey, how you doin'?
Say, Nice Bowl!

from Moment to Moment: Poems of a Mountain Recluse (Copper Canyon Press).