i tm i – Page 25

Coffee at the Ranch

I was invited to a cook out on Wednesday- yesterday at a little ranch up the road.

I social distanced in the shade of actual trees with other humans, sheep, goats, horses, a mismatched pack of dogs, chickens, turkeys, peacocks… I really wasn’t expecting this kind of place just off the main road, but there it was.

A lively young woman told this story in rapid, giddy Spanish that struck me square in the Absurd.

The story was about this cup of coffee that just would not taste right.

The woman had made her coffee and was dressing it up with her usual amount of sugar. She drank some, but it tasted wrong; still bitter. So she added more sugar. Tried it again. The coffee was still not to her liking, so she kept trying to make it taste better. She only gave up when another family member came and explained the reason for the coffee’s bad taste. She had not been adding sugar after all! It had been powdered snake! She had drunk at least a third of her coffee with polvo de la vibora!

Now, why would this God fearing family have such an item in the house to begin with? I didn’t ask. I didn’t need to. Given that I was on a ranch in Mexico, I knew that the people here would probably retain some folk medicine traditions. (Powdered snake is an unproven cancer treatment.)

Having grown up in the Northeastern USA, I don’t think very many people in that region would even consider having snake powder in their kitchens; not labeled clearly enough to not be mistaken for sugar.

I laughed. The story would make a good bit in a comedy sketch.

Birthday Deathday

June 14th would have been Ko Murobushi‘s birthday. June 18th will be the 5th anniversary of his death.
He was one of my butoh teachers.
Last year I wrote some words for his birthday, but did not publish them at that time. I reworked them now into something better than before; maybe. The words are not adequate, but there they are.
Going through my old papers, I found a loose sheet in a notebook with a poem composed by Ko-san. It was typed in imperfect English so I gave the text some light editing in a way that made sense to me.
Does the dead mind such things?
Does the living?
I can’t tell any more.
If you are wondering, the poems do not go together. They are not in dialogue with one another. They just exist in proximity to one another on this page. Like I existed in proximity to Ko-san in New York.

If you are wondering, the poems do not go together. They are not in dialogue with one another. They just exist in proximity to one another on this page. Like I existed in proximity to Ko-san in New York.

shared kyphosis

i think of you
from just two letters
k o
small-larger than life

in the studio, on the stage

human languages failing

those in-breathing screeches

how drunk were you

you threw yourself onto the floor
in a fit of lean, wondering muscle
sinuous, tau(gh)t
teaching
i was a terrible student
(still am)

full of ghosts

all eyes
watering from cigarette smoke
(and grief)

a hopeless body
i break in all the places
you maybe never imagine existed

most pathetic
(more empathic)

a tarnished silver
i’ll not shine that bright
ever too long, ever so clumsy
a flabby shadow
matched only at the back
in shared kyphosis

–tm–

trying to die,
i started to dance.
so today is the day i will meet the tiger.
i can’t help it if he eats me-
even- i don’t mind if he fucks me-
we could also rend each other.
i would jump into the empty sky then
hanging with shreds of bitten flesh.
the moment i throw my body,
i grasp another form.
there is no other way to stay alive.
then it is as if my other self-double
bears further other doubles.
from the dying body
diverse other selves that cannot
be called but awkward
are made, flutter then scatter.
they are unevenly distributed,
without a distinguishable border between any of them
and as if they would disappear everywhere
after catching the memory of the unknown.

can we as limited process,
as ephemeral life
live an unlimited life?

–ko murobushi–

Pandemic / Pan… Demonium

Lock down? Pandemic? Meh. Artist art anyway!

While I’m not as productive as I would like- wrestling and/or having tea with your inner demons does take time out of one’s day- I still do do the art things I do.

I mean, look: @asereht_tm (lolz) @mrmzther (glitch aesthetics) @hugocrosthwaite (quarantine videos)

But while the arting continues, my income is rather shoddy. And since I know you believe in me and what I am doing, and I know you don’t want to me spending all my time with my inner demons, you can help me out. Shoot me a couple of bucks once in while. (Wow! Clearly NOT vegan metaphorical slang!)

Here’s what you can actually do:

0 Don’t shoot bucks.

1 Visit my ko-fi page by clicking the giant button link above. Or click the same button at the bottom of the page.

2 Check out my low grade lock down performances and quirky photoshop art. Wonder about it; laugh at it; cringe at it. Whatever.

3 Buy me a coffee. Or as many as you like!

I’m currently raising funds for improved/better equipment with which to create and edit digital media. Eventually, I want to get a sewing machine, too! But one thing at a time, right? Can’t be greedy, right?

Thanks for reading. Thanks for checking out the links. Thanks for supporting weird artists.

January 2022 EDIT: I finally got my sewing machine!