Night before last I came across a video from Maison Sabbatini called Streaks. Really loved it. Donald recognized the accompanying music as DJ Shadow's Endtroducing, circa 1996. These two, the video and the music, come at a time when one other thing, the most beautiful flower I've ever seen also just came into my life. The three together are like a kind of evidence, or maybe a context that helps me talk about the artwork I am beginning to do.

All of the images that stuck that night were black and white. The flower was a deep, vibrant shade of fushia. .

I've been listening to Endtroducing a lot since then. Sneaking a peak at the video, looking for something equally as good from Maison Sabbatini. Petrolio is the closest and is a montage of dynamic photos. In the first photos the male dancer appears to be flying over the ocean. I post the Streaks video here, as well as photos of the flower. I hope you like it.

En route 7:11 am 20/12/98

The rain clouds close in, like a rucksack being drawn shut
Orange tipped clouds over brown-orange vegetation,
Like sodium light.

Like the voices of festing Brazilians from the back of this bus
going to Christmases,
of music, family and samba-ah.

Dew drop meteors whiz past on the window
We’re in a tunnel. Sodium lamps reflect in the drops
A Christmas tree twinkling Milky way,
Within the fog on the glass,
A pulsating aurora borealis.

Mountains. Winding roads.
The mist is floating.
Mystery restored.
The Tao waits in the whisps
Beyond the shadowy forest environs.

In Japan

at an art gallery

I met a girl who is 18

Who is using the upstairs as a studio

Her design was a human figure with two hands

Bursting

Forth from the belly.

I told her the person looked pregnant

Like it was giving birth to artist’s hands.

She had found at a pond near her house, near a Shinto shrine, an iridescent green black purple bug.

Back up. At the jinja near her house there comes a fox around. She, walking there one day found this bug. Then very near a pair of bird wings, rather salivated upon with one bone still attached to one of the wings. Soon after or before, she saw a snake slither between the two and into the pond. She put the two together, beetle in the center as if it had wings. She said it’s like a human. I told her it made me think of an angel. Her other works were human figures. A man-shaped dark purpley outline on an oil blackened canvas, inside, staunch abysmal black ears and below the knees were red. She took the canvas and from behind she thumped where the heart would be. Thump. Thump. Thump.

moonlight servant

i think i'll dedicate my life to compassionate watching of sunrise and sunset, of playing in the rain and taking many trips across the sky, i'll offer my food to a pantheon of invisible deities and take just enough time to sweeten the scent of mexican vanilla on santa maria's neck. what do you think of that? drink nectar from the pantheon fountain of invisible gods, take immeasurable pleasure when i become the earth and trees root and grow out my navel, vines cover my breasts which are mountains and my eyes are large enough to sink ships, i will twist and turn, snake like the mississippi river, hear the sound of my own paddle splashing the water when a tugboat parades down to the delta. islets are like my thighs that flow water to the sides and back to the immeasurable space, ocean of destiny, that is great and unfathomable.
--penned around 2001 after bodhisattva initiation