“In A Grain Of Sand” – Jesús Papoleto Meléndez

I heard this poem read on the radio last night and wanted to post it. Jesus Papoleto Melendez is considered one of the founders of the Nuyorican movement. You can hear the full show (and watch some video clips) at the Sugar In My Bowl page.

In A Grain of Sand – by Jesús Papoleto Meléndez

We are Starseeds
every one of us –
you & me,
& me and you
& him & her,
& them
& they
& those
Who know of this
are truly blessed

True for all
living beings,
beings living –
not humans only,
but ants & trees
& the open breeze,
things that breathe
air or fire,
water, earth
all kinds of dust
& dirt,
a part of all,
all a part
of –

Everything is
in everything;
thus, it sings
& its song
is life,
life is
a seed of Stars,
the dust of Suns
& Moons –
rocks & dust
& outer smoke
in outer space
in a bath of timelessness,
counted, measured
by some species –
others care not;
Science & Mathematics,
Poetry in motion,
in a Helix’s curve,
And Life
on Earth
becomes visible
to you
& the nakedEye.

Philter Phreak

Since it probably wouldn’t do for someone in a sobriety program to post “Happy 420″ imagery, here’s something for those who celebrate Easter or Ostara (which is observed around the Vernal Equinox, but better late than never.)

Also, this is a response to fellow blogger Don Charisma’s  digital painting prompt. This is done completely digitally, the method is somewhat similar to the Zentangle meditative method. I don’t know if employing every filter my Photoshop software has to offer would be considered “striving for perfection”, but really, I just like playing with filters, polarizing lil’ features that they are.. Also, artists don’t really have “instructions”, we have “suggestions.” ;)


Lady Chrome says: IT WASN’T ME

When Lady Chrome was little, we caught her trying to sneak out of her cage and she had this whole demeanor like “IT WASN’T ME!” so it became her catch phrase.

Nowadays she lies around like a big rat pancake and doesn’t try to sneak anywhere.

I saw this pillow in the window of an otherwise incredibly ugly furniture showroom. I don’t know if tweaking the colors even hides that fact. :p

UPDATE: Is Lady Chrome really Banksy????



No, in this case I believe it wasn’t her, because she’s just too lazy.

Sobek Pill-Popping

Nedjr collage

…because he’s basic.

At least that’s how I explained it in art therapy when asked “why does the crocodile have a mouth full of pills?”

And yes he can be. He also can be martial, a protector who wards off the dangers of the Nile (you know, like crocodiles?), and in later dynasties took on some healing aspects, so depending on your take on medication, any of the above can be hammered in to apply.

Then again, the Kemetic festivals of Bast (the cat goddess) were known for lots and lots of drunkenness, so I probably could have glued a few substances in her mouth too.

Personally, I’ve always tended to fret over whether psych meds might help or hinder my connection with the Macrocosm. Hell, some of them, especially in the overdoses some doctors have given me in the past, have messed with my ability to connect to anything that was more than a half a block away. Not. Good.

So far I’ve been finding on very low doses, combined with meditative and yoga practices and other types of energy work in a more tantric vein, I’m able to keep my connections  open without getting lost in them.

Life In An Indigent Mental Health Center

…still beats “life in a northern town”. (Anyone else thing that song should have been the preface to some sort of psychological horror-thriller/slasher flick? Is it just me who thinks shit like this?)

And am I also the only one who thinks a trail of discarded Adderall should be the preface to some sort of of over the top deranged take on some type of Hansel-and-Gretel type thing? And no, not that stupid movie that came out a while back where they’re sexy vampire hunters or whatever. Maybe I should try to write a story like that. And keep in mind that Junko Mizuno also did a pretty cool take on it.


And all because the site of some dropped meds in a stairwell caught my fancy.

Why Do I Exist?

Well, that’s a question with multifaceted ever changing answers, but today it’s so this photo could resurface from the filming of Nick Zedd’s Why Do You Exist in 1998.

You can see this and lots of other good stuff at the NICK ZEDD Movies page.

Or if you’re curious about the films themselves there are a few over at UbuWeb:


(What the hell happened to that dress? I wish I still had that dress.)

Faun Uptown


A faun with a bear I saw up in the Morningside Heights area, when I was running late for that Feminist Zine Fest a couple of months ago.

There’s also a larger statue of Pan himself in that area that someone showed me once, next time I’m up there I should find it again and get some pictures. Meanwhile, here’s an image of it and some history courtesy of a public sculpture site Columbia University keeps.


According to this link, in the 1890′s this Pan statue was originally commissioned for the Dakota, but was considered “inappropriate” for the space due to it’s nudity. Which is funny, given that the Dakota is probably associated in a number of people’s brains with something like this:

Hmmm, that was also seized in it’s day for being “pornographic”. People are stupid. Hey, give it a listen:


The House has passed a forced treatment law — speak up so that the Senate may stop this


Whether you have a mental health diagnosis or not, this seems like a severe interference with personal agency. Seriously fucked!

Originally posted on Beyond Meds:

 Please take action to help stop this. Instructions here: Stop forced (involuntary) treatment becoming the law of the land. Act now.

Press Release: SOURCE National Coalition for Mental Health Recovery  

stop-forced-txThe bill rushed through the House of Representatives by voice vote yesterday to patch Medicare regulations includes a highly controversial provision that has nothing to do with Medicare, and that would subject people in crisis to forced treatment. Studies have shown that such force causes trauma and drives people away from treatment, mental health advocates warned.

Today, an array of national mental health and disability advocacy groups joined together to decry this provision, which they view as a regressive attack on hundreds of thousands of Americans with serious mental health conditions.

“In its rush to fix a problem with Medicare, the House passed a bill including a highly controversial program, involuntary outpatient commitment, with no debate and no roll…

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“My star is on the ascendant” (sketch portrait of Eva Tanguay)

Done over morning coffee in my “Smash Journal” with gel pens, marker, & a feather earring I found on the street pasted in as a headdress. (And a little bit of digital smudging.) This is my unreal-spring-colored interpretation of vaudeville actress Eva Tanguay, from a magazine clipping a friend had given us. She was an early-day diva from Quebec who’d performed this anthem back in the early 1900′s, which needless to say from a mad pride/feminist/generally anti-authoritarian standpoint I fell in love with:

Lyr. Add: I DON’T CARE
Words Jean Lenox, Music Harry O. Sutton, 1905

Verse 1.
They say I’m crazy, got no sense,
But I don’t care.
They may or may not mean offense,
But I don’t care;
You see I’m sort of independent,
Of a clever race descendant,
My star is on the ascendant,
That’s why I don’t care.

Chorus 1
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
What they may think of me.
I’m happy go lucky,
Men say I am plucky,
So jolly and care free.
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If I do get the mean and stony stare.
If I’m never successful,
It won’t be distressful,
‘Cos I don’t care.

Verse 2.
Some people say I think I’m it,
But I don’t care,
They say they don’t like me a bit,
But I don’t care;
‘Cos my good nature effervescing,
Is one, there is no distressing,
My spirit there is no oppressing,
Just ‘cos I don’t care.

Chorus 2
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If people don’t like me,
I’ll try to outlive it,
I know I’ll forgive it,
And live contentedly.
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If people do not try to treat me fair.
There is naught can amaze me,
Dislike cannot daze me,
‘Cos I don’t care.

Verse 3.
If I call on a friend and she’s “not in,”
Why, I don’t care,
I simply discover I need some pins,
‘Cos I don’t care;
Her feeble slight does but amuse me,
Nothing like it could induce me,
Just ‘cos I don’t care.

Chorus 3
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If she did mean to snub.
I’m feeling so jolly,
T’would be simple folly
To even feel the rub.
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If I do call on her
And she’s not there.
If she can’t say “Hello,”
She’s not a good fellow,
And I don’t care.

Verse 4.
They say my hair’s in silly style,
But I don’t care,
They but amuse me all the while,
‘Cos I don’t care;
You see my hair with me’s a fixture,
And it’s color’s not a mixture,
When they call me living picture,
Surely I don’t care.

Chorus 4
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
If my hair is not dressed swell;
I’ve got no kick coming -
It’s vastly becoming,
And suits my face so well;
I don’t care,
I don’t care,
I know that style like mine
Is mighty rare.
So no one can “Phase” me,
By calling me “Crazy,”
‘Cos I don’t care.

Sung with increasing volume and rowdiness. 

In 1922, Eva recorded this song. Admittedly she was not the greatest singer, or perhaps she was trying too hard to sing in that Helen Kane-esque baby voice that was popular at the time, and it didn’t come naturally to her?

In later years more competent singers such as Judy Garland or Mitzi Gaynor (who played Eva Tanguay in a biopic). But I was morbidly curious to hear the original due to the magazine clipping, which gave a quote from Aleister Crowley, who had been a lover of hers, describing her performance and it’s effect on him:

“She is like the hashish dream of a hermit who is possessed by the devil. She cannot sing, as others sing; or dance as others dance. She simply keeps on vibrating, both limbs and vocal chords without rhythm, tone, melody, or purpose…I feel as if I were poisoned by strychnine…I jerk, I writhe, I twist, I find no ease…She is perpetual irritation without possibility of satisfaction, an Avatar of sex-somnia. Solitude of the Soul, the Worm that dieth not; ah, me!”

You know, I think that’s my ultimate aspiration as a performer. To be the hashish dream of a hermit who is possessed by the devil. It all makes sense now.





“Let the woman be girt with a sword” (Book of the Law Ch III)

Mixed media – I began this in art therapy with the watercolor crayons, and ended up having to finish it in a coffee shop with some cheap gel pens and markers I carry with me.

It’s inspired by today’s chapter from the Book Of The Law, heralding the new Æon of Ra-Hoor-Khuit.

And of course about this line, which I’ve written about before:

My other favorite line is “I will give you a war engine”. But I didn’t draw that.

“Fear not at all; fear neither men nor Fates, nor gods, nor anything. Money fear not, nor laughter of the folk folly, nor any other power in heaven or upon the earth or under the earth. Nu is your refuge as Hadit your light; and I am the strength, force, vigour, of your arms.”


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