Awoke she did with a start.

"what an odd dream," she thought to herself quickly tightening her grip around the blanket that acted as a shield. Turning over she stared at her canopy concentrating on details; stitch after stitch, each stitch and fold working symbiotically to create a beautiful cascade of wintery white waves framing the stage for the girl. Here, above the sea of cuddly clouds the girl sat on her thrown and commanded an army of thoughts and dreams that she, and she alone was the ruler of this realm.

Turning once more she laid her face gently into her pillow and tried desperately to reenter the world of dreams. She needed to enter, she needed to see and understand... but no use. Her mind was awake, her third eye blind now in the mortal realm and her soul had returned home once more.

There was a gentleman, tall and mysterious, all in shadows, but not because he was dark but because he was hiding from her mind. He stood there, staring at her dream self. Extending his hand, she took it and floated over into his embrace. Locked, without the ability for movement she trembled and buried her face into his chest. Sweet smells softly tickled her nose and with each breathe she felt herself trembling less. Slowly, as not to frighten away his pet the gentleman placed his two fingers underneath her chin and lightly rose her face to look at him. Soft to the touch, the contact of his skin on hers buckled her knees and sent a tremor running through her body, showing now fear she rose with his touch and stared at him. Stared deep into the wells of his eyes and saw a not too distant future self already a part of his thoughts.



Warm glowing light filled her eyelids and she could hear stirring around her. Opening only one eye the girl looked around to see who might be in her room but before she could register the figure a shrill of a voice spoke.
"get up!" yelled her tutor, "you're the laziest child here. get up and dress. Your parents want to speak to you at breakfast and they've already sat down for tea!"

"Alright alright I'm getting up there is honestly no need for the harassment I was just trying to enjoy the last few seconds of a wonderful dream - " the girl over spoke.

"A dream?," inquired the tutor. "The dream... with the dark figure?" She said coming closer the the girl. The girl pulled her covers closer to her face and fell back into her bed. Thinking quickly she started to explain the dream.

"dark figure?" she repeated looking around for an idea, anything that would get her tutor from snooping. "What dark figure, can't I have any other dream? I dreamt of a wonderful little cottage on a large hilly meadow where I owned hundreds of horses and lived among them," would this work she thought to herself, would tutor believe this tall tale of a horse dream?

"Hundreds of horses? YOU?! Someone that can't even get on a horse without crying and yelling to get off?! A dream that would be! hahahah and a dream it will stay, you'll never learn how to ride just dreaming of horses! Now that quite enough get up and let me start dressing you before your parents have my head and yours!" The entire time the girls tutor helped dress her she was thinking that her dark mysterious suitor would never doubt her inability to ride horses nor would be ever continuously jab and poke fun at a horrible accident that still haunts her to this very day.

As the daughter of a well-to-do member of a major court in Europe the life, or well the lives of everyone within his home was planned, choreographed, rehearsed and well executed or otherwise heads would be rolling. The girl's life was such that, from the moment she awoke to the moment her eyes finally closed for the evening her life was part of his harsh rule. Everyone seemed to not mind that everything from what color they were permitted to wear to what they could eat on any given day had already been predetermined even before they could think of what they wished to wear or eat. No one seemed to mind, except for this little girl. There were always arguments and blood pressure rising and punishments but the girl would never learn to keep her mouth shut and just abide her father's rules. Punishment after punishment the girl would never learn that she was not the ruler of the household and that her father meant business.

On this particular day her father was in a rush to leave for court and needed to present instructions to the family before he left, as usual the youngest of his daughters was late and he was growing ever impatient with her lack of authority. "Morning father," came a little voice from the far end of the great room. Running into the room she quickly halted and walked briskly towards the table where the entire family had gathered to see the father off. As her legs moved swiftly to and fro the ruffles of her pale yellow dress glistened with the soft light of the morning. Long and slender and not fully aware of her beauty the girl clumsily scooted closer to the table seeming awkward and out of place. She slumped into the chair farthest from her father, due to her rank in the family. She was the youngest of the daughters, but she was also the youngest family member. Mistake some might say or others like the tell the tale as a miracle sent from God.

Her mother had been forty years of age when the youngest was conceived and a painful winter that had been for the Countess. Finally one cold, damp april morning the girl was born not breathing and the mother overwhelmed by grief slipped into what seemed a breathless slumber. The chambermaid herself distort and over come by sorrow placed the child within the mother's arms and said a pray. Before leaving the room the chambermaid looked back and saw what she described to be a miracle; the child slowly reaching up and the mother coming to after the touch of her daughter. Neither mother nor child could be separated and were always seen together. Unlike the other children the Countess took it upon herself to start her daughter's lessons and always had her within sight. The Countess was still on this earth due to the bond that she shared with her youngest daughter, everything the daughter felt she felt and anything the countess felt her daughter felt as well. Together they were bound by deeper means than just mother daughter, they were bound by direct love from God himself thought the Countess. Spoke of this she dared not. Her husband the Count, thought it was rubbish that his wife should sit for hours teaching their daughter to read and write, he also found it to be rubbish the thought that divinity would have influenced the 'bound' the two shared.

As the girl grew the father tried everything to part the two, boarding school, hiring a trained scholastic tutor and even marriage. Boarding school was tough but the mother and child got around to seeing each other and even entrusted on their personal servants to hand deliver mail to one another. Marriage was inevitable, it was going to happen and now that all four daughters expect the little one had a suitor the mother bit her tongue and gave in. Her daughter would live the same fate every daughter, herself included had lived. Suited with a husband to make the family wealthier and more powerful and produce strong boys to uphold the family line. Thought the Countess has failed in her duty as the perfect wife, and her husband never let her forget it, she had only produced one son out of the six children and he had disgraced the family name by becoming a priest of a pagan religion that lived out their days within the mists and woods of the country. To the little one, this was amazing that finally someone within the family broke rank and disobeyed their father. No one spoke of the lost son, the family continued on with their lives as if there had never been a son within the family.


Warm glowing light filled her eyelids and she could hear stirring around her. Opening only one eye the girl looked around to see who might be in her room but before she could register the figure a shrill of a voice spoke.
"get up!" yelled her tutor, "you're the laziest child here. get up and dress. Your parents want to speak to you at breakfast and they've already sat down for tea!"

"Alright alright I'm getting up there is honestly no need for the harassment I was just trying to enjoy the last few seconds of a wonderful dream - " the girl over spoke.

"A dream?," inquired the tutor. "The dream... with the dark figure?" She said coming closer the the girl. The girl pulled her covers closer to her face and fell back into her bed. Thinking quickly she started to explain the dream.

"dark figure?" she repeated looking around for an idea, anything that would get her tutor from snooping. "What dark figure, can't I have any other dream? I dreamt of a wonderful little cottage on a large hilly meadow where I owned hundreds of horses and lived among them," would this work she thought to herself, would tutor believe this tall tale of a horse dream?

"Hundreds of horses? YOU?! Someone that can't even get on a horse without crying and yelling to get off?! A dream that would be! hahahah and a dream it will stay, you'll never learn how to ride just dreaming of horses! Now that quite enough get up and let me start dressing you before your parents have my head and yours!" The entire time the girls tutor helped dress her she was thinking that her dark mysterious suitor would never doubt her inability to ride horses nor would be ever continuously jab and poke fun at a horrible accident that still haunts her to this very day.

As the daughter of a well-to-do member of a major court in Europe the life, or well the lives of everyone within his home was planned, choreographed, rehearsed and well executed or otherwise heads would be rolling. The girl's life was such that, from the moment she awoke to the moment her eyes finally closed for the evening her life was part of his harsh rule. Everyone seemed to not mind that everything from what color they were permitted to wear to what they could eat on any given day had already been predetermined even before they could think of what they wished to wear or eat. No one seemed to mind, except for this little girl. There were always arguments and blood pressure rising and punishments but the girl would never learn to keep her mouth shut and just abide her father's rules. Punishment after punishment the girl would never learn that she was not the ruler of the household and that her father meant business.

On this particular day her father was in a rush to leave for court and needed to present instructions to the family before he left, as usual the youngest of his daughters was late and he was growing ever impatient with her lack of authority. "Morning father," came a little voice from the far end of the great room. Running into the room she quickly halted and walked briskly towards the table where the entire family had gathered to see the father off. As her legs moved swiftly to and fro the ruffles of her pale yellow dress glistened with the soft light of the morning. Long and slender and not fully aware of her beauty the girl clumsily scooted closer to the table seeming awkward and out of place. She slumped into the chair farthest from her father, due to her rank in the family. She was the youngest of the daughters, but she was also the youngest family member. Mistake some might say or others like the tell the tale as a miracle sent from God.

Her mother had been forty years of age when the youngest was conceived and a painful winter that had been for the Countess. Finally one cold, damp april morning the girl was born not breathing and the mother overwhelmed by grief slipped into what seemed a breathless slumber. The chambermaid herself distort and over come by sorrow placed the child within the mother's arms and said a pray. Before leaving the room the chambermaid looked back and saw what she described to be a miracle; the child slowly reaching up and the mother coming to after the touch of her daughter. Neither mother nor child could be separated and were always seen together. Unlike the other children the Countess took it upon herself to start her daughter's lessons and always had her within sight. The Countess was still on this earth due to the bond that she shared with her youngest daughter, everything the daughter felt she felt and anything the countess felt her daughter felt as well. Together they were bound by deeper means than just mother daughter, they were bound by direct love from God himself thought the Countess. Spoke of this she dared not. Her husband the Count, thought it was rubbish that his wife should sit for hours teaching their daughter to read and write, he also found it to be rubbish the thought that divinity would have influenced the 'bound' the two shared.

As the girl grew the father tried everything to part the two, boarding school, hiring a trained scholastic tutor and even marriage. Boarding school was tough but the mother and child got around to seeing each other and even entrusted on their personal servants to hand deliver mail to one another. Marriage was inevitable, it was going to happen and now that all four daughters expect the little one had a suitor the mother bit her tongue and gave in. Her daughter would live the same fate every daughter, herself included had lived. Suited with a husband to make the family wealthier and more powerful and produce strong boys to uphold the family line. Thought the Countess has failed in her duty as the perfect wife, and her husband never let her forget it, she had only produced one son out of the six children and he had disgraced the family name by becoming a priest of a pagan religion that lived out their days within the mists and woods of the country. To the little one, this was amazing that finally someone within the family broke rank and disobeyed their father. No one spoke of the lost son, the family continued on with their lives as if there had never been a son within the family.

The Little Things...

A New Year brings obviously new things in your life. There are better years than others and like anything in life, life is never certain nor truly decided.

Already this year has been a year to mark in the books; it marks the second decade in the 21st century and I'm sure that the entire world is counting on 2010 to be better than 2009...2008 and so on....

On a more personal level I never quite understood the importance of little gestures of love and adoration... certain friends have shown me a great deal of love and care with little gifts and gestures but never has someone I happened to be interested in shown me more than just a smidgit of adoration... just the little things, those are the more important things in any relationship. when you're friend, spouse, lover, parents, sibling ect are in need of a pick me up... a small gesture of love goes such a long way....

Thank you for the small things... thank you for the big things... thank you for being you, for caring about me and for allowing me to be part of your realm of excellence...

Brion Vega Cemetery. San Vito d'Altivole Treviso Italy

Carlo Scarpa was a great 20th century architect. He balanced his Zen Buddhism and spirituality in the Brion-Vega cemetery in such a way that he produced a garden to show and present anyone that visited what the passage of life to death could be; calm, collected and well balanced.

Yearning for Zion

Im not sure if many people ever knew about the Yearning for Zion Ranch before last year's raid began.

This polygamist community is located in Texas and yesterday I watched a special on Opera. She was invited into the ranch to show to the public that they were a happy little community.

I cant imagine being in Opera's shoes but just as a viewer, i felt awkward and uneasy about the ranch. The people within the commune reassured Opera that they're happy and that this is the way they want their lives lived out. The women tend to the family and children, help in the gardens, or in the general store and help to manufacture clothes for the community. The ranch is supposively an almost self-sufficient community that rarely uses anything from the 'outside' world.

Opera visited the 2nd grade; as she was there she asked where all the toys were and every single child responded that they dont have toys, that they dont want toys and that working was fun for them. She went on to ask if they knew who Sherk, Mickey Mouse and Cinderella was; only one little girl said she had heard of Cinderella but didnt know what it was.

Moving forward, Opera followed a family of 3 wives and 9 children around for the day; the women all get up early in the morning, dress themselves, wake the children and dress the children and then attend family pray before they can break their fast and then its off to school for the kiddies. From there the three women have different chores to accomplish with the older daughters by their side; either tending to the fields, baking bread ect. As the women were working in the fields Opera asked them how it felt to share a man with three different women, and how it felt to share the house with other women and their children. The women said that it was a learning experience everyday and that each day taught them something new about themselves. Opera opened up the discussion of jealously and space and the women (always with at least one male within ear shot) said that that never happened, they were never jealous of one another because it was a "Christ Like Love" that enabled the community to live harmoniously together.

I'm sorry but this is where i lost it. HONESTLY PEOPLE i understand that you dont know any better and that you're spoon fed everything that the sector/cult/compound whatever you want to call them, your leaders think you need to know. There are always men around, everywhere! not one camera shot panned without a male figure standing, no LURKING in the background spying on the women to make sure they didnt reveal anything incriminating.

I bet most of the people within the community are happy, and quite frankly I would bet that most people within the community are scared of the real world and would prefer to stay within the confinements of the compound but thats because they're brainwashed. they're not taught to think and feel for themselves they're taught the 'WORD OF THE LORD" in the opinion of the male leaders. Its a male based operation that has the male concern in mind. But this relates to Brave New World with the brainwashing and desensitization. The people of to some effect living through the same issues as the robots of Brave New World. BNW leaders try to oppress individuality and try to control people without seeming like they are.... SAME THING over in the YFZ Ranch.

Thank You Velvet Underground

VENUS IN FURS

Velvet Underground. First 'Punk' Rock band and definitely a product of their time.

Their sound is experimental at times and could even be called 'noisy' but now while I'm listening to them i realize that if i were to hear a song like "Venus in Furs" or "Heroin" and NOT know it was Velvet Underground I would honestly think they were a punk band from the 80s, not the late 60s. This band, and mainly the movement that they were part of single handedly shaped the music we all know today. Nothing today would be the same without John Cage, Robert Rauschenberg, Andy Warhol, or The Velvet Underground. (trust me many more people....)

THE CLASH WOULD NOT EXIST! and that would be a very scary world... so Velvet Underground you guys get TWO THUMBS UP in my book.

Gabriel & Dresden are DJs based out of San Francisco who are heavly influenced by EDM (electric dance music)

Sometimes you come across music that just makes you stop and think, reflect on your own life.
We're all trying to track our own treasure down, we're bogged down by different distractions and people on their own treasure hunt. Many of us rely on what others say and do to direct us in the 'right' direction and only later realize you wish they would have just told you the truth instead of making you believe everything was real.

why do you tell me
only things I want to hear
why dont you tell me
this could just dissapear

shepard fairey

last thursday i decided to visit the shepard fairey exhibit at the ICA.  i had decided thursday night because the ICA is free past a certain hour ( i think its 6 or so) anyway the only problem was that half the city of boston decided that thursday night was a splendid time to go as well. there were too many people at the exhibit. i dont believe that i enjoyed it as much due to the large crowd... BUT besides that set back it was still quite interesting. 

first of all i HAVE never seen that many people in a museum... EVER. i dont even think volumetrically speaking, when i've visited the Vatican has there been that many people. its nice to see people taking interest in art. even if it is the 'in thing' that doesnt bother me at all, i like seeing people expose themselves to new things. it also warms my heart to witness dreams coming true. 

shepard fairey started out as a tshirt and skateboard designer and worked his way up saving and slaving away at his art. i like to see people succeed at their dreams, let him make money off his talent, i truly dont find that to be exploitation of any sort of this 'street art' movement. there have been several controversies with people accusing fariey of exploiting street art/graffiti because he's taking certain commissions but let the poor man make a living off what he loves. is it truly exploiting the great renaissance masters if someone were to paint a likeness of the venus and cupid and sell it for a few hundred dollars? really people, do you have ANYTHING better to do than whine that you're not in the star light making some cash with your dream. 

he has an even spark, irony and a perfect drop of seriousness blended together to create what seems like a simple piece of art work that if inspected closer has quite a number of layers that one can, if wanted to, take the time and dissect whatever they want. i call his work 'art work' because he starts this train of thinking when you look at his work. he ignites a spark within your mind and begins this process of analyzation and thought that defines art. art is a piece or series of works that being a process of thoughts; gets you to start thinking of the movement, of the times associated with the time period and/or yourself and/or the artist. this is a mechinism to challenge the brain and humanity. why do you think art from centuries ago is so much easier to 'get' because you cant associate with it fully so you're utterly detached for the most part. art that is happening now or in and around our time is so much harder to get because we're, as a society so far up our own asses that we cannot seem to see the light of day and detach ourselves from everything and get relax, enjoy and let the thoughts progress freely and allow for things to flow naturally and allow for things to seep.... 

quite honestly, i believe shepard fairey has done beautifully.