if you wanna be a artist

you should decide what it is realy about.

do you want to make (serve) art

or be

a artist.

as in...a social and networking sort of class of self interest.

liveing somewhere that has a small arts community...and a poor one..can be excellent to acturally make art.

cos partly theres nothing except yourself to engage with.
if you know how to "engage" anyway.

you could stop makeing excuses..and worrying about who someone thinks about you

and look into yourself
time
and
pull something surpriseing out of your body
that is
something to do with

potential of mind
body
and soul.

theres storys innate within..that we have to unearth
realiseing the
actural self we are...dispite th spin
waffle
and smeared vanity
ego
and insecurity of conceptual theroretical

psuedo science acedemia that would seek to confine your
ferral
stupid
embattled folk hearts land sky and voice.

i suppose im saying scene is peripheral to the act

just like birth
has nothing to do with the pornography industry
the church
or jail

over come this arrogant
sweeping vacume...

alone in
everything

falls down rain...and
fire in friends

sent beeps and heart signal

loved ones..and
one that has loved

all possables in
fully human

generosity
fullfillme t

beuaty
wisdom
peace

and primevil grief
and fear trade of power
revenge

but flowing backwards
to smaller densitys
grandiose
normals
just part of a system

regardless of awareness

knowing nothing
acheingly

all th time
looking down bent kneck
in th dark

all th characters im becomeing
ever was

totally hopelessly home
in this charade

forgetting

sometimes happy

with totemec
frenzied
calculated

languages
histery
and meaning

to be human
to be life

up starts==
=====

wa sting time
will get u everyw here,
its
h ard
for
a
re
as on,
so nothing gets in
or out,
opening cans with cakes of soap can be easier than opening














the
he
art of a fool.

hey mark

re "art strategy"

fuck man..of course i know what im bloody well doing!

took a session in th studio to remember...damn im thick.

live in this fucking awsome country
do caveman shit in th big fucking shed
for my whole life.

see what happens if its any bloody good!

duh! anything else is bullshit.

right.

thnx

plus wee genteil trips abroad fer th art look osf booshwa scenster aswell
with glamerous hot wimmin.

thattll do..

try n avoid th dole and various other institutions.

you can use that fer my artist statement cos im such a humble [prick.

thanks
james

1000 eyes in your head

you heard my thoughts

reached in

wispered about the land of oz

illusion was th fortress for chaos
desire
and suffering.

issueing boundry controll like so many lost astronaughts
a lisping serpent toungue
and minimalist agenda
to sensitive research vessels

piled high
on table top

capable of th most atrocious crimes
of surrender faith and grace

conservative agendas of reality
and urning down your house

ideological narcisism
th new natzi global elite

your robotic esteem aproval mechanism for spaces that slave minds say are yours to
stack this way and that

them motherfuckers are fucking motherfuckers
beutifull ghost songs

beutifull human memery

you must trust in you self
believe in yourt self

you have to follow your heart

you over come

th enemy with in

the moon

the dead
th liveing

your childrens children

curse bless
vision

earthquake
clean

start again

old crown

and storys telling th teller

walking about
coffee
friends
forturne thingys
neurotic cloaths shopping at sallys
river
bumping into pple
th small big spaces between faces when they notce you

th fire
heat
wood
pple singing in th shower
painting things white again
getting normal pants
nice dinner cooked for you
and getting amazeing bowls n jugs in th mail

pple on rattly bikes saying hi

throwing pumice in river

watching gummo again for th 100th time

getting cool letters in mail from friend

doing ya meditation
buying th slayer t shirt in th window of th teen t shirt shop.
feeling 14.
counting the piercing my ears used to have..

walking fast home cos its cold
eating ya veges and caramel slice

apprietiateing th water from th hose when ya thirsty

recogniseing th supreme privledge it is
where i am
and being realy reay gratfull

that hordes of sparrows in trees
and monuments and macrocarpa clad hill sides..
views out on shiney reflective roofs


such a lovely day
pleased i shared it

all that hippy jizz

lovely dark river
flowing lovely and dark
with stretched warm air light
and greasy pasta and sausage
fathers day choclate

lovely dark river and bad innuendo txt messages

skanky plod home
in th dark
by th river

lovely river
and rural grim work station industrial yards
next to lovely river

and imported goods mall
and old infrastructure of economy outsoursed
and rural wood
concrete and
what have you
pple
next to th grim big river
going with warm air
to th ocean

lovely
thanks very much
lovely

what i realy like about life

is when that wee down syndrome pixie guy
recognises me from like 2 weeks ago..from th pool getting changed.

and is like

hey man good to see you ..
gives ya a hug..and smiles real kind n asks seriously if youd help him across th road.

fucking sweet!
love that.

i also like makeing myself walk around lakes
fantasising about beating on th dumb ass mayor
who wants to ban pukekos from th english lake! (duh)

cos they hastle th swans...
fuckin moron also retards funding to th museum n gallery.

the dick head is a dinosaur
but he dont believe in them probably ..

anyway...
beuty as my new prescription
noticeing ourselfs suddenly
thefting lyrics
and

collaberative elaberating commentary to slightly puzzling
fey
conversational sub strata fantasy projections..

still ..i understand th romance
need
and reality of not haveing anything as desire is mystery and fullfilment disapointing

but assumptions...and self involved miopia..jesus!
gimmie a big mack and a porn magazine

and ill eat pukeko burger in democracys church mall
and learn my kids the gentle art

or retard love
with survivalist
love in

warm door knockings
wakeing slowly

lazy
drifting

peer support
no ones safe
thats for sure

but helping that weird wee inderdimentional man across th road

i sure need that too.

if i was half th blowhard tosser i said i was
id get a care giveing job there i reckin.
could learn a thing or two

did last time i did that.
payed of a overdraft that way

but who are you?
why am i blabbering

better eat

The lake,
i need to put my glasses on, when I look outside onto the sunny street it is all fuzzy. Nick Drake on the player...wandered around early this morning to get maximum sun pleasure. the world is so lit up with itself, arresting in all its spring shades. Dozy drunks litter the street and it smells, not bad, just wafts up from the dark times of the night. The shop dolls look cold as I think of my nose, it got burnt by the frost that came last night, when i accidentally fell asleeptwith the heater on, after a strange ride home with a guy dressed as elvis. Playing stevie wonder covers by a white guy...stevie ray vaughne. Could have burnt the house down, made a hottie and donned dressing gown but shit it was cold.
heater, fuck it sure i'll wake up after five and turn that off zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

works th work

where ever you are

outsiude cant account for lost ghosts inside

in the language of mirrors and alienative

identity constructs

rotten flesh and certain death...resurection in smaller points till theres nothing left except a shared imagination

in virtual texts...written in clone autonimous seizures

class porn panty raids of suffering ...voyeur locust

a trash monument to false idol ego and shame

discuised thinly in doller logic
eurocentric naval gaze...

empire fringe
swell pregant bloat conform..your home
its adaptive pyrimid shatter slave
liberate

now im nothing
screeming slayer
screeming illusion

whisper higher order bee
flight

improbable glory

in empty noise
stretched to twin hemispheres of pagentry of this fortune
gratitude
love
and robust longing to ourselfs

that we always harbour toward one another
warmth reflected

olone caverns yawn
bad poetry
and mummy
hawks
and superficial healing
violence
religeon
occult love in

sweet bro
sweet

optimist
pessimist

literacy levels in aotearoa

learning to see
think
be accessable and compleatly private
like skin was a good boundry
nerves were warriors
and eyes ambassiders for galactic commissions sent to breed peace
evolution
and majical reality of totality and joy.

im this sub class
neurotic
solo parent feminist raised
christian surviver

with lashings of mental illness
addiction and unemployment issues
"in th family"

so what th fuck do i know about theology right?

i mean hell
godamn
shit
cunt
class war allround

i may as well be indiginous with the poor me pedigree

but
this nagging

sence of self
beyond self

and consciousness....gifted body

and all things material in manifest
stored light

n shit

spoze its beuty n wonder

reruns of the mummy returns..
love boat theme partys..
no dental dam required

aborted hippy art school pot luck dinners..

this elemental monster awareness

like super novae
or

bowel cancer

its a louis armstrong

life

you will be afraid
you will degrade yourself

you will be a prisner of your lack

of compassion
forgiveness
understanding
wisdom

you will victimise
and inflate your ego

for retribution grandiosity

spewing
darkness

like some phenominon in th cosmos

wandering alone

eating stars

and thinking of resurrection fantasys

where porn jesus sucks you off with boobs

big muscils
and shaved head

like a monk
but less flexable

fun is free
fun is being your self

fun is playing
fun is fun

i like fun

it takes my mind of things
makes me less scared
and not want to hide kill or hurt things as much

fun is like a friend in your head
who you can be yourself with

its crazy
but its fun

later we can think about kindness

and fart over candles

kindness is lovely

becose it make you feel nice

and we are all lovely as little baby animals under a big sky.

when your hungry and someone gives you some meat

even if its not cooked very good

its kind

kindness is when pple say..hullo how are you today james

and i say...im ok a bit ..

pple are kind sometimes when they are sad..and want to make others happy...

kindnmess is pink

ladys are more kind..but men can be in a different way when there not noticed asmuch..thats so ladys notice them..and want to rub there kind boobs on them

otherwiuse men are mean..and kill stuff.

kindness is a special thing that poor pple are better at...
only in brown countrys
cos then theres no better value

but not always cos jesus stole th markets and make trade deals with them selfs and bosses

but kindness has a telephone

and preying makes you feel better in your heart
like a telphone

when i grow up..im going to be kind
but im a man
so maybe ill wear dressses and play with my dicky in th mall
or make a girl baby and learn to be kind in a farm with lots of animals to boss around and cut up

for th economy.

candles and litrature

when ya think stuff with ya heart

and stuff happens

that ya dont controll

but its a dialog

with life

anyway..

its like faith...that connection exists on lots of subtle
irraTIONAL
invisable

levels

where beurocracy of sane
normal

is weather report
of th time

not th systems described

nor th language

is th states
experienced

nor th object
the reason
for th journey

beuty is my lover then

can i get a hell lay looo ya

did you get th flowers big brain?

the temporaryness of being alive

against dark silent night

now im home

seasons turn

your tendrals start growing...reaching for reality constructs

shared identifuication with others..

net werk that need..you human

and its better that way

under large rata..
devonshire teas
leagon of jam n scone

glasweigan male anecdotes of comfort
have a pint son

walking theropy
dogs
supermarkets
river

makeing dinner fer pple
giveing a balnket away

your definitly not th only mad cunt
self involved
inturnal
burnt out
dislocated
natzi
fucker......

on th palnet

comparitive patterns and stable

inturnal art
neuroticly fierce in a unifyed whole
mirrored back at me from art dealer selection

so its not from me anymore
but product

looks damn ok. good psychie sludge..

strange age
golden dawns

enevidable meltdown
great hope

all these threads
in personal
in communial

whats real
now
before
tomorrow

falling apart
comeing together

rapidly

and winter
spring
summer

rage
beuty
hunger

righteousness

all apropriate responses to
corruption
disfigurement
manipulated immoral stranglehold reality zombie mind

galvinised flock reports
high top mountian

dirty shit on edge
sifting
lurking

infection then
like volcano enima
sun...when th stars in alighnment

weve lost th thought of reality
all wound in serious tissue scar clots
bundled about th mind neurosis

avoiding day
reconciled coulourfull joy
in monocromatic lustre

on peripheral currants
to endangered to see
smell
taste
recognise the feeling of self lost

found in th grief of when you silenced its voice

vast empty
echoing

in eclipsed cold
cloud and moon

sail thise ships
voyage heart
and well spring eternal
to volume

ebbing flowwing
from not us

with in
beyond

faith passage
and fuck damage
like war
son eating bitch cunt