OFF WORLD BLUES
So, I’ve started opening my sets with "Motherless Child" lately. Not much of a Blues standard I realize, but it’s seeming more and more appropriate these days you know? I mean, I’m such a "long way from home" I couldn’t even point to it in the night sky.
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POET MACHINES AND THE MISTAKE OF LIFE
What if life itself … what if, what we perceive of as life itself, were just another of these happy evolutionary accidents? That life needn’t have come about at all, except as a crazy byproduct of the need for these stupid little pieces of self replicating patterns of information to find some way to duplicate themselves more efficiently.>>>

HOW MUCH WOULD YOU PAY?
Is there a one size fits all
Factory stamped
Foil embossed
Kmart blue light special
Cure? >>>

COMING APART
His face is made of wax. At any second I expect it to start dripping down onto me. He keeps moving in and out of focus. I can’t tell if he’s really moving or not. I can’t comprehend the passage of time. An hour, a second, a day, all tick by at the same pace.

He’s talking to me while he fades in and out of my view. It takes me a long time to realize that the strange buzzing drone is his voice. He must be telling me who he is. What he is doing. He must. It is the only thing that would make sense. >>>

MISSION STREET POEMS
An outsider's life
Skin too pale for home ... >>>

RECLESS ENDAGERMENT
Careening along
The world written in blurred lines in my periphery
my eyes locked ahead
point focused
knuckles white
teeth in grimaced grin >>>

FRICTION ZONE
There are elephants standing in the bushes at the 22^nd Street CalTrain station. >>>

BLUE-EYED DEVIL
So, I looked into the mirror the other morning and had quite a shock: FUCK I’m white!

Some of my best friends are … white… though you wouldn’t know if to hear them talk. >>>

WORDS LIKE WALLS
Rising steadily
With words like walls
I speak myself into existence
Pushing the sands of being into
Foundations
Boundaries >>>

THE MYTH OF SISYPHUS
I don't remember her name. Well, to be more precise, I don't remember if she's even told me her name. She's leaning there, supported by the banister, swaying slightly, keys clutched leaving imprints in her right hand. Her hair is somewhere between long and short, honey colored, and auburn, and caught up in the fingers of her other hand. Her lips are full, red, and laughing. Her eyes seem gated, wary. She's leaning there, because of two very important reasons … she's leaning because she's had far too much to drink. >>>

KILLING GOD
That hollow sick feeling wakes her up, the empty woman, lying on the stained mattress. No sheets. On the floor. Light slashes into the room. Clean cuts. Dust mites perform pirouettes. Light made dingy as soon as it enters the room. The room only allows the dingy. Bones show through her wax skin like knives. Her fingernails broken. Her lips lilies. >>>

THE GORILLA AND THE DAY SPA
The place gets quiet when the gorilla walks in.

The women stop talking.  No more, “Can you believe that Charley?  Leaving Muriel like that?  After 25 years of marriage?” or “I was just there last week, and I’ve gotta tell you, the Hamptons … they just aren’t this season.”

He nervously chuffs and shifts his weight from foot to foot as they stare.>>>

THE TOOTH FAIRY
Yeah, I did it. Is that what you want to hear? Think I can make it on Springer now? Get that interview with Barbara? Really make myself a household name? That's not why I did it you know, to get on TV, get back a little bit of my fifteen minutes. I know that's what everyone's saying -- all the tabloids -- professional jealousy, that I'm just some bitter, washed-up old hag who can't take failure. I know what it looks like, what I look like -- rode hard, put away wet -- but that's not why I did it. >>>

ANSWERING MACHINE MESSAGE #5021
Uh, hi, ummm, I think this is Marlene's number? Um, you don't know me. My name is Jeremy. Look, um, I don't usually do this, ok, so really I've never done this before. Sorry if I'm sounding a little nervous. I just, well, it's just that I'm a little out of practice is all. Jeez, a little out of practice, I sound pretty pathetic don't I?

I guess there's something to be said for honesty right? I mean, sometimes pathetic can even be ... cute? At least I hope so anyway. I mean, those sad clown paintings, with the big drippy tears ... Who was it who painted those? Red Buttons? Red Skelton? Red someone right? Anyway, that doesn't mater. I mean, kinda. I always thought those things were totally pathetic -- ok, lame actually -- but my last girlfriend ... cute. I guess there's no accounting for taste right? One man's pathos is another woman's ootsie wootsie. Wow, I'm really digging a hole here aren't I? Well, I guess it won't be the first time -- I did say ex-girlfriend right? >>>

LOVE IN THE TIME OF ATKINS
Mmm mmm. Boy, I tell you, thank god for that Atkins diet, I don’t know what I’d do without it.

Want a piece? It’s really yummy. No? I understand. Most people can’t do the rare meat thing. Reminds them of what they are really eating I guess. I love it. It’s my grandmother’s fault - all that holiday roast beef - she wouldn’t cook it any way but rare. >>>

MOVING PICTURES

An experiment in animated paintings and photographs...>>>

JOURNEY

Sequential art ... a story in miniature, about the beginnings of things.>>>

ORCHIDS

Women's bodies are strange and magical things to me ... they are landscapes to traverse, ecosystems, flowers. I admit it, I fetishize them. >>>

ARCHITECTURE OF ANGELS

the first lay on the table, lifeless like a porcelain figurine, a perfect vision of plans and blueprints with no movement or breath ... >>>

ALIEN ANATOMY
Alien anatomy and physiology 101. Four creatures that symbolize the differences the universe has to offer.>>>

APPROPRIATION: THE HOOD

I'm fascinated by the textures that make up my neighborhood. I live in a place where paint, text, and image is everywhere, and everything. It is scrawled across the landscape like a giant poem. >>>

THE HOOD PT. 2

More images from my neighborhood, this time used as the basis for some digital paintings. Post Romantic Modernist nonsense.. >>>

LINES IN THE SKY
Ok, so maybe telephone wires aren't the most traditional raw material for poetry and art, but damned if I don't think they're pretty cool. (Like writing in the sky or sompin'.) >>>

SHE'S LEAVING HOME

My roomies are moving out. For a second or two there, I thought I might have to too. Funny how your surroundings can start to mirror your emotional state isn't it? Here are some photos I took while contemplating the possibility that I might have to leave.>>>

MOVING FORWARD
Using all my breath ... There's something about the way a body moves. The journey we take through time. Bringing both hope and inevitability. We are like sharks, when we stop moving ... we stop ... moving. >>>

OBJECTIFICATION TRADING CARDS
Like most men, I visually objectify women ... I fetishize parts and pieces. I'm not sure where it comes from. Where I learned these visual cues to arousal. They are there nonetheless. Here are some visual explorations of my particular realms of objectification. >>>

PERSONALITY WAVE

Pictures inspired by one of my favorite Author/Mathematicians: Rudy Rucker. . >>>

A THOUSAND WORDS

Sometimes I feel like there are hidden stories in the things I see around me. Sometimes I see a string of images, and I think to myself, if I can just decipher these images, if I just had the vocabulary, if I just spoke the language, this montage would solidify into narrative. These images would take on some greater meaning than their individuality, and I might understand something secret ... something precious ... something that I seem to have forgotten. .>>>

PEOPLE GLOW

Sure sure, it's the light reflecting off the planes and geometries of our bodies, but people do glow. Like the moon. Reflected light taking on greater significance because of the bounce. Faces, bodies, eyes, skin seem to generate their own luminance. Their own celestial (or perhaps terrestrial is a better word) light. Each of us is our own constellation. Our own astral body.

Ain't it cool? .>>>

FLORIDA STREET

One block parallel. Textures. Patterns. Vivid colors. Little pieces of a neighborhood. Right next door (or at least down the street). .>>>

22ND STREET

I'm not really sure why, but lately I've been completely infatuated with the 22nd Street Cal Train station. (obviously). There's something almost magical about this weird citified wilderness. Here is my latest exploration, this time in photographic form. .>>>

NYC @ NIGHT

There is something about the light of a city at night. The movement. The energy. Things that we take for granted during the day time take on magical proportions in the darkness. Subway stations become mysterious hidden places. Graffiti glows in the sulfur light like glyphs. Cars moving by become flowing rivers of light. >>>

THE NIGHT STAIRS

Where do these stairs go? They go up. Nighttime witchery. The streetlights and moon cast strange shadows, and play havoc with the colors of the world. Exposed and hidden. Pools of light a physical thing. Detail fades as color drains as darkness falls. Funny what you find in your back yard. Strange nocturnal magics. Hidden beauties. Stairs to nowhere. >>>

WITCH EMBER

Cover designs, illustrations, it's all here. Check 'em out. >>>

MY SCRAPBOOK

Some pages taken from my design scrapbook/notebook. >>>

MOVEMENT

A few animations on the same theme ... something I guess I'm a little infatuated with; the way the body moves ... well, or the way a skeleton moves anyway. >>>

WRITING ON THE WALL

More of one of my many infatuations; letters, numbers, words, scrawled across the landscape. An urban indecipherable code. >>>

HOLE IN THE WALL

Some pictures of my local landscape >>>

TEXTUREIZER
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LIGHTS

I love taking photos at night. You never really know what you are going to get. We like to think that cameras see what we do, that if you see a photo, it's like you could have been there, but it's not true. It's all just an illusion. Cameras are like little alien seeing machines, and you never really know this, until you push them to their limits. >>>

LINEAR

More pictures from strange angles. >>>

INSIDE WANTS OUT
Self portraits. I'm infatuated with old medical imagery. The fact that all this stuff is swimming around under my skin. >>>

GETTING DRUNK AT THE BUDDAH


What's better than getting wasted in Chinatown? Maybe getting wasted and trying to document the experience? Just a little piece of advice, if you look over the countertop, and see an innocent looking clay pot sitting there filled with some exotic liquor ... take the bartender's advice when he says "That's not for you champ." >>>

LOMOGRAPHY



Ok, so I've become more than a little addicted to my Lomo-LCA, a Russian built camera which encourages a kind of Dadaistic way of taking pictures. (You never quite know what you're going to get ... not the most swimming endorsement for a camera, but well, it's not for everyone that's for sure.) You just kinda point in the general direction of something that looks cool, hold down the button, and wait for the film to get processed. >>>

THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT



Lately I've been taking my infatuation with movies and television, and audiences a little too far. >>>

STRANGE CITY



Some of the last shots I took of my past home: San Francisco. It can be such a strange place (that's a good thing to folks like me) I thought it needed an outward visual expression of that. Click the images for larger versions of the shots. >>>

GHOST IN THE MACHINE

More stuff from my Lomo. These are vacation pictures believe it or not. This is how I like remembering Aruba. Hit your reload button to see a different combination. >>>

THE SUBWAY

Strangely I seem to be getting all my writing done on public transportation these days, the bus, the backs of taxis, the subway. Something about the moving I think. >>>

A LANDSCAPE OF LANGUAGE

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THE RAVEN

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PHOTOGRAPHING GHOSTS

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