it began (o as usual) with a couple of innocent fevered blue ray-wilderness lyrics:
...when i grow up
i want to be a forester
run thru the moss on high heels
that's what i'll do
throwin' out a boomerang
waiting for it to come back to me...
(and then, for those in the know, the actual sound of the boomerang, hurled out, with great force, spinning wildly, rapidly, disappearing once more thru the lattice of purple shadows and leavings.)
...so splintered ...so what does that mean for the wilderness?...
took the splice around back to the little woodland we conjured there. put on an ipod stuffed with hard-core, glitch, and emo. greensward appeared to be following quietly. nobody appeared to be reluctantly leading. the soft hum, blending overnight with the sway of the canyon, the hacked-to-pieces gently tumbled in with the glistening tendrils and spiderwebs.
...i want to live near the sea
crab claws and bottles of rum
that's what i'll portray...
...staring at the sea with shell...
...waiting for it to embrace these ...
oh sure, private names...
oh all the way... dynamite hidden between certain memories...
what about uncertain memories?
i put my soul in what i do
last night i drew a funny man
with dark eyes and a hanging tongue
it goes way back...
...it never liked that sad look
from some poor ancient sky-god
who wants/needs/dreams about
being loved by you at some point...
it began, started spinning, well-designed/ carved/ oiled/ painted/ and executed, spinning madly, ecstatically, thru the brilliant fall colors, flaming and dropping like spent flares at the bare feet of our anonymous "mailbox."
it put my soul in what x does also. (didn't know there was any other alternative!)
it goes way back indeed.
