NoTes oN biRd ShiT. Bird BoNe ShiT IsLanD BLuEs

 

NOTES ON DE BIRD SHIT--BIRD BONE sHIt IsLaNd BLuEs

 

Fort Carroll stands guard to Baltimore, Maryland at the mouth of the Inner Harbor.  Designed by that  walking contradiction young Robert E. Lee long before becoming  Confederate Commander of the Northern Virginia Army.   This Fort in the middle of the Patapsco River has never seen any real war action.  Army target practice took place here possibly up to World War Two.  Find out all the correct and detailed information upon this ghost fort at www.bytenet.net/rmscaronia/Main Fort Carroll Page old.htm   or http://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=422 or ....FIND IT.

The place is now a strange bird sanctuary.  A friend, his dumbly pup and I ventured out to the forgotten derelict in his red plastic canoe.  Pictures below are by Mr. Hanzi.  Text are notes written two days after the adventure.  Speculations that ramble in tha somewhars

Do not touch the water as the local radio warns about the inner harbor.

These notes reflect speculations that arose from the experience.




                                                                 

Disaster (s) real and imagined

          Realism is real and imaging.  Realism is imaging the imagination.

Realism is the imaginative(s)-----cartography

          Realism is birds over taking history.  Realism is the spirit messenger birds O the water.  O the Chesapeake. 

Realism is shitting on history and making it real.  Realism is birds shitting on historical remnants and making thangs pure.

Saying things you did not know you did not know you needed to know.

Things are growing old in the young.  What are these things?

The birds will tell me the birds will tell me various things.  green eggs. dark green muted eggs with blackish spots.  Birds. Sea birds ready to projectile into the world.

                              

Bones crunch

          the crash of birds

                   upon Robert E.

                             Lee's Hexagon.  He designed it and made it occur, yet he never visited the fort and the fort never saw real (real) human violence. 

                             THe fort existed because of imaginative possibility.

Patapsco River blues.   Baltimore is in the haze today upon a Friday.  A fog of weather.  A fog of pollution.  Cargo and belching ships.  Cargo ships.  Speed boats.  Cruise ship Blues.  those rich fucks--going to the inner harbor.  A fog of emotions.  Trailing you and me and the meat.  The WHOLE MEAT.

Tha smell O gasoline from Curtis CreeK mixing. polluting.  BP polluting and enabling us. Gobbling us to and fro in the froth of dullard fuss.

found a bullet (lead) green  Spanish American war Rehearsals.  World War One or World War Two Shooting rehearsals.

Casts of the old cannons long gone --casts of old cannons made into concrete casts and then those are mostly destroyed.

Birds shit and make things real.  birds die and make things real.  Walking on the fortress wall and crunch crunch. Bones Crunch.

thar was a house. for tha OLe Lighthouse Keeper.  and the house is gone. and I could not find the foundation (s).  Are these trees Peach trees.

The Man who bought the island in 1950ish....1952.  planted many Peach trees.  He was gonna bring gamblers here to gamble.

This could be an orchard that doesn't grow covered in bird shit.

Yor usual birds.  Herons.  White Herons.  ducks neath tha bush.  some kinda hawKs.  seagulls yu keep squawkin and those mysterious abundance of all these strange large black sea birds.

Sometimes theY be a Blu e   EGG.  A bright bLUe pasteL BLUE egg --amongst tha dark green eggs with black splotches.  

CHicKs everWhar.  chicKs gawkin tha aiR.  Lookin fo MommY's primaL food garbLE.

THousands upon thousands upon thousands upon thousands of old bird nests and new bird nests and bird nests upon bird nests and the garbage of man and woman some sum these birds maketh thar nests outta.

Ole useless empty drug prescription bottles yet not useless in their durability cuz they exist and they have no no purpose anymore.

red canoe

dog tied to tha red canoe

jumps into murky water. stullifying grotesque them waters dirtY.

I pull Mr Dog out.  He shakes on both of us

as we paddle.  Dumb dogs are puppies are dumb dogs.

it were graY when we paddled out then tha sun came ouT and tha sun began ta baKe the white caked bird shit especially amongst the bottom below tha fortress walls.

Sea breeze up on de walls. and you can see PoLIce HeLicopTor flyin tha Late spring bLue skies and tha fuckeR don'T see Us in his faKe metaL deomON birD.   BURST.

horror rust tractor in the caverns that used tA landscape tha grounDs.... Stalactite stalagmite.  

                             water stains look like blood.  and some room fort brick caverns are completely bloody in black blood darkness.

skeleton and skin and birds hangin from fishin wire and the hooks through thar mouthbeaK (blues) or thar wings and they was struggling and now they hang in death.  TERRIBLE AVIAN DEATH BLUES!

birds dead birds on the ground. they are talking the dead birds on the ground.  and the seagulls are secret monkey Gods who talk in Places invisible places to tha OTHER GODS.   Greasy bones. dry bones crunch.

we drink a little bottle of liquor in tha bleached out ole wooden Lighthouse. 1968 graffiti.

GHost of tha old guard dog?  yu get warned when you dock.  IT painted big . PRIVATE. GUARD DOG!   Who feeds the guard dog?  Who feeds the ghost of tha guard dog covered in bird shit.

we tha only ghosts out here.  Two men and one single old puppy upon a dragging leash.

Below is the WhoLe text not broken up with all the photos.

Notes On Bird SHIT.  BIrd Shit Bone Island Blues

Disaster (s) real and imagined

          Realism is real and imaging.  Realism is imaging the imagination.

Realism is the imaginative(s)-----cartography

          Realism is birds over taking history.  Realism is the spirit messenger birds O the water.  O the Chesapeake. 

Realism is shitting on history and making it real.  Realism is birds shitting on historical remnants and making thangs pure.

Saying things you did not know you did not know you needed to know.

Things are growing old in the young.  What are these things?

The birds will tell me the birds will tell me various things.  green eggs. dark green muted eggs with blackish spots.  Birds. Sea birds ready to projectile into the world.

Bones crunch

          the crash of birds

                   upon Robert E.

                             Lee's Hexagon.  He designed it and made it occur, yet he never visited the fort and the fort never saw real (real) human violence. 

                             THe fort existed because of imaginative possibility.

Patapsco River blues.   Baltimore is in the haze today upon a Friday.  A fog of weather.  A fog of pollution.  Cargo and belching ships.  Cargo ships.  Speed boats.  Cruise ship Blues.  those rich fucks--going to the inner harbor.  A fog of emotions.  Trailing you and me and the meat.  The WHOLE MEAT.

Tha smell O gasoline from Curtis CreeK mixing. polluting.  BP polluting and enabling us. Gobbling us to and fro in the froth of dullard fuss.

found a bullet (lead) green  Spanish American war Rehearsals.  World War One or World War Two Shooting rehearsals.

Casts of the old cannons long gone --casts of old cannons made into concrete casts and then those are mostly destroyed.

Birds shit and make things real.  birds die and make things real.  Walking on the fortress wall and crunch crunch. Bones Crunch.

thar was a house. for tha OLe Lighthouse Keeper.  and the house is gone. and I could not find the foundation (s).  Are these trees Peach trees.

The Man who bought the island in 1950ish....1952.  planted many Peach trees.  He was gonna bring gamblers here to gamble.

This could be an orchard that doesn't grow covered in bird shit.

Yor usual birds.  Herons.  White Herons.  ducks neath tha bush.  some kinda hawKs.  seagulls yu keep squawkin and those mysterious abundance of all these strange large black sea birds.

Sometimes theY be a Blu e   EGG.  A bright bLUe pasteL BLUE egg --amongst tha dark green eggs with black splotches.  

CHicKs everWhar.  chicKs gawkin tha aiR.  Lookin fo MommY's primaL food garbLE.

THousands upon thousands upon thousands upon thousands of old bird nests and new bird nests and bird nests upon bird nests and the garbage of man and woman some sum these birds maketh thar nests outta.

Ole useless empty drug prescription bottles yet not useless in their durability cuz they exist and they have no no purpose anymore.

red canoe

dog tied to tha red canoe

jumps into murky water. stullifying grotesque them waters dirtY.

I pull Mr Dog out.  He shakes on both of us

as we paddle.  Dumb dogs are puppies are dumb dogs.

it were graY when we paddled out then tha sun came ouT and tha sun began ta baKe the white caked bird shit especially amongst the bottom below tha fortress walls.

Sea breeze up on de walls. and you can see PoLIce HeLicopTor flyin tha Late spring bLue skies and tha fuckeR don'T see Us in his faKe metaL deomON birD.   BURST.

horror rust tractor in the caverns that used tA landscape tha grounDs.... Stalactite stalagmite. 

                             water stains look like blood.  and some room fort brick caverns are completely bloody in black blood darkness.

skeleton and skin and birds hangin from fishin wire and the hooks through thar mouthbeaK (blues) or thar wings and they was struggling and now they hang in death.  TERRIBLE AVIAN DEATH BLUES!

birds dead birds on the ground. they are talking the dead birds on the ground.  and the seagulls are secret monkey Gods who talk in Places invisible places to tha OTHER GODS.   Greasy bones. dry bones crunch.

we drink a little bottle of liquor in tha bleached out ole wooden Lighthouse. 1968 graffiti.

GHost of tha old guard dog?  yu get warned when you dock.  IT painted big . PRIVATE. GUARD DOG!   Who feeds the guard dog?  Who feeds the ghost of tha guard dog covered in bird shit.

we tha only ghosts out here.  Two men and one single old puppy upon a dragging leash.

(end)

ENERGY ACTION DISTORTIONS

                         ENERGY ACTION DISTORTION

"Energy is eternal delight;  and from the earliest times human beings have tried to imprison it in some durable hieroglyphic.  It is perhaps the first of all the subjects of art."--Kenneth Clark

Energy of Form

 Energy of Memory

Energy of the faulty Line

The re invention of objects perceived into new objects or new versions of those objects.

Energy of things distorting the thing.

Energy of thing shaking out of the thing distorting.

                                      Electronical Orange Shadow (with Jenny Moon Tucker)

 

                                               TWO Male/FemalE (with Jenny Moon TUckeR)

                                            PaLooKaviLLe (OnCe) FoR SteVe Von ChE

                                            CroW RaVeN In SPrinG StoRm ThunDeR

                                               CRoWRaveN FlIes tha dusKy red MorNdusK

                                                   TricKsteR in bLue skY splashed with blooD

                                                               CroW in de mornin

                

                                                           Crow in de Mornin readY ta HunT

Excerpts From Tha LosT Book of Lostness May 2014 (with a few collabs with Jenny Moon Tucker)

COntiNUaL ExcerpTs from THa LosT BooK of LosTness.  The booK that does not Exist.

These were mostly all created very spur of the moment.  A frenzy.  Some of my recurring motifs keep cycling.  Birds, Horses, Moons.  Improvisations.  Notations of mystery.  of blunt sharpness. OF trasH.  Mystical Trash.

                                              Brown Horse with Shadows (with Jenny Moon Tucker)

                                                 Bloody Rider On Horse

                                                             Feather In water

                                                                            MuD

         Pryamid Green Emerald DusK (with Jenny Moon Tucker)

CATASTRophE (S)

BIRD MURDER (S)

 

AktioN skY (s)

HirToGlyphicaL ()S

(shiveRs)))

 SimPLetoN DUcK

FULL MOON FEATHERS AND STORIES

 

                  

Excerpts From the Lost Book of The Lost April 2014

I have been on hiatus.  Animal ghost(s) send one forth and offer some protection even if one has been struck with crooked maleovoent mis guidance.

A

                                                     "animal-ghosT"





The text is lost because it is lost.  The words are lost because they are text.  Image is the visceral evisceration of the text.

                           "ThE Lost booK is a PLace To maKe miStaKes/ALL Text is useless"

                     "The text is only a place that has forgotten text/The angeL without a mouth that is                                                             always learning the somethang"

                                                                   "bLue featheR winD"

                                                                        "U"
                                               

                                                    "ShipwRecK foRth EffacEmenT"

                                                                   "WaShinG oF SpiRiTs"






**Lately, I have returned to manifesting larger works, specifically on glass and even on canvas.  Hope to git some of those up soon.  Music wise I have a split with Jenny Moon that Mr. Rick Weaver is putting out in the near future.  My side is titled SEE ROCK CITY BURN.  12 string instrumentals, a turn of the late 19th century protest song sung by workers, original blues, harmonica train (after Deford Bailey) animal bone percussive instrumental and Plenty oF Music Box shenanigans. 
       New music project involving Rosemary Krust.  First tape is all reed instruments--various harmonica keys, accordion and reed organ all recorded in the coal chamber of the haunted hippie house.  One of the new New Twilight Memories releases is now going to be a double LP.

WAS A brutal winter in a frozen slough of despond.  I hope to make good like a Pilgrim's progress.