Technology changes us, but i won’t be a machine.

Language now has a visual function. Language now has a visual function. Language now has a visual function.

from what i see. Do you see? Can you read? Agree? #eyes #eyeballs

…I don’t hear you… …You can’t hear me…

“It’s not the message, it’s the means.” Marshall McLuhan proclaimed back in the 1960s.


Rewind, repeat. #what

It doesn’t matter what your machine says. It matters that you have a machine in your hand. A machine is a phone. a machine is a vespa. a machine is a GUN.

Hear me speak. Love is built within. It’s surround sound. love is all around.

Silence is like loving:

  • eye contact
  • trust
  • rhythm

Language is living under the guise of literacy. Bourgeoise.

Let’s sing together. have u ever wondered if ur friend ran away from home cuz it was so bad they never smiled? or sang? or had a book?

DO YOU EVER WONDER HOW BAD IT COULD BE? at night, do u ever wonder?

Perhaps we suppress ears for eyes. RACISM is a system. SEXISM is a system.

i wanna be a lullabye.

“America is therefore one of the countries where the precepts of Descartes are best studied and are least applied. Everyone shuts himself tightly up within himself and insists upon judging the world from there.” –  Alexis de Tocqueville

alphabetic literacy, typographic culture,  leaders of isolation.


This title is past tense for los estados unidos, est. 1776-ish…///

the people appear to be focused on conflict. i read the other day that humans are the firstindoor species.”  That sounds terrible, synonymous with anguish or despair. I love the wild.

I am wild.

Can we play outside? Is recess tertiary in a list of values and primary needs?


FAQ: Let’s quick storyboard this out:

  1. The dog will kill the opossum, ferociously severing the artery of the neck of its prey.
  2. The fox, a scavenger, will then eat the opossum, or what’s left of it.
  3. The fox will defecate later, and plant seeds for a tree to grow.
  4. A forest begins again, thanks to fecal matter. This is evolution. The dog remains wild.

We’ve become all fight or flight but it’s still matter over mind, sorry Einstein. Google the process of [face painting] (aka cosmetic sales) //make-up (don’t break up) globally.

and sigh.

c’est la vie.

So consumption of information is problem focused.

Okay, but::: why would bad news get more attention than good news? This directly defies the teachings of Jesus in the Bible. People thrive with good news.

I know we’ll die and it’s absolutely fine, who did good shit today?

I was listening to a Pete Seeger song, and support his vision. Do you hear what I hear?


“There’s another kind of American music I think is so great that it must be able to cross any boundary. I wasn’t born to this kind of music – but I fell in love with it, & I try my best to sing it – even though I know I don’t sing it exactly right. These are the negro gospel songs and spirituals that have that wonderful solid beat.

Some of them are very old. Sometimes I feel like a motherless child. Motherless children have a hard time in this world. …

Oh what a beautiful city…

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen …

Maybe this song which could be a theme for the whole world…

I’m gunna lay down my sword and shield/ Down by the riverside & study war no more…

You know this song is only half the song, if you’re just singing the melody?

Some folk traditions in the world, you’re not supposed to sing harmony. These old Irish, and songs, you know, they’re just melody alone… you don’t wanna mess it up with a lotta harmony

But this particular kind of song you need the harmony. & no two people need to sing the exact same notes. It’s just like a dixie land jazz band/ everybody’s weaving in and out and goin under and which every which every which-a-way…

if you hear too many people singing low, you sing high. if there’s too many on top, you crawl on the bottom. Don’t forget the melody.


…so here we are. i’d love to hear high tenors. Too much bass in our country, on this earth. Our world is not merely steel and machines. It is composed of many beautiful sounds: ocean, forest, wind, growth, nails, hammers…


We can’t sing along if we ain’t got our own song.

So let’s think rather than critique.

The mirror was only invented in 1835. #reflection

I’m into introspection. Fuck reflection.

“this above all: to thine own self be true.” -William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1603 a.d.


my hypothesis is this: we are fools of our tools.



Simon and Garfunkel sang, “I’d rather be a sparrow than a snail.”

The best ones cultivate love, they fly, soar.  Sometimes lessons are excruciating. What a marvelous human our world lost this year – last week. Piercing pain.

I will miss Eric for all time. A long time.

Decades ahead, he will be in my heart, words, there, here, always.

“I’d rather be a hammer than a nail.” “I’d rather be a forest than a street.” Simon & Garfunkel nearly get it…

But, I’d rather be with you. Together. All things go… God/the Universe/Time: thank you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Out of sight, out of mind… Almost. Except:

Death is real, and I cry sometimes.

So influential, you are.

You were.

He becomes past tense and it is synonymous with sorrow.

The end, el fin.FullSizeRender

hard times make ya strong.////

to those who have been given much, much is required. -mom taught me

ignorance is bliss. – observation

nobody can ever take your education away from you. – dad

This year was hard. my heart was broken down.

I saw new things. Arizona, Utah, Louisiana, Mississippi, Italy, Sweden.

Went to my first NFL game and all I could think of was the Colosseum in Rome.

I learned people change. Even your best friend, your brother, changes.

2017 was okay. I took leadership. Am almost a good writer. A better editor.

I had loss that is impossible to accept. And I have to because my friend is dead, but I yearn for justice always.

I learned to say no.

And asked why.



I am my father’s daughter.

A life student. I suppose here comes treble, after all.


cicadas are chirping,
lighting bugs fly.
Owls are watching,
yet nobody sees.

They say it is silent, night.
Edison, boy you made it so bright.
The whole darn city
Is buzzing, like bees, who are missing.

I flip with a switch,
It’s a thing they say now,
“let’s get lit.”


Glitter is synonymous to sunshine,
Or gold, rich, excess, punitive rintherout.

Disingenuous worlds and paradise,
can nearly have the same infancy – mocking
that which makes everything grow.

Sunshine, is what we create,
Out of darkness, we must make.

Thou shalt not kill,
But rather, cultivate, something beautiful,
Powerful, and always growing.

Stars are only reflections,
of black holes.

Exemplum virtutis.

to be treated like a lady, act like one.

especially if you prefer a gentleman.

blossom, as a tulip, or orchid.

silence, softness, beauty, precision –

these, are what hold power,

oh you delicate flower.. It is time

to grow.