phases manifest n shift

under th weather

its th great nz introspective mood disorder!

inturnal navigation

minoturs n mazes eh bro

and some ageless continuum we are all part of

individually
singaly

in what ever various code of story that visited us ..secretly
or publicly

however...as much as normal is a vitue and order stability and rational are preferable states

one falls under th weather
and lost at sea is inevadable

when th tide changes
and wind shifts

and different voices attract and connect
other than incessant own ones

in that gravity
of light
absence and free fall

theres wonders mysterys and laws to be upheld

like getting that light on my van fixed
paying road tax
and watching that movie..end of suburbia

bring on th battery solar faster fast
and vege garden

smaller circles
more connected

phases manifest n shift

under th weather

its th great nz introspective mood disorder!

inturnal navigation

minoturs n mazes eh bro

and some ageless continuum we are all part of

individually
singaly

in what ever various code of story that visited us ..secretly
or publicly

however...as much as normal is a vitue and order stability and rational are preferable states

one falls under th weather
and lost at sea is inevadable

when th tide changes
and wind shifts

and different voices attract and connect
other than incessant own ones

in that gravity
of light
absence and free fall

theres wonders mysterys and laws to be upheld

like getting that light on my van fixed
paying road tax
and watching that movie..end of suburbia

bring on th battery solar faster fast
and vege garden

smaller circles
more connected

fun
fear
confidence
role
play
barter
books
empty
full
given
sabotage
victim
signal
ended
giant
kind
soft
nessesary
hard
core
learning
pain
method
come
over
over
come
self

where i been
aint nessesarily where im at

where im at
aint nessesarily where im going

and that is that

expanded space

quivering possable

and becomes

( night is good
every one fucks off and the world is a little safer)

a whoile lotta stuff that aint mine

but ownership and identity never realy applys to these sort of storys

its best to walk my walk
live that delusion in introspective investigation

and cocoa choclate fire and dark river walks

like rabit proof fence and sobbing

ringing th bi polar macbeth directer bei ng told
im a galactic blue monkey in th mayan calander

power play illusion majic and integrity being significant points to this story.

he always makes me laugh.

model harmoinise and integrity.

a mass grave of testpots
they arrive fresh from th good lady at resene some where in auckland
as in i spilled there guts individually smote spent and oozed
in dainty recklessness of tone...soft purples n th like.

then not wanting...and value being comparitive..i piled th 100 pots on th surface in th middle
and waved a wand of 2 by 4 over the lot filled with that white adheasive

between th paint n th glue

and the sence of a figure that was in th canvas i saw

the relief is crazy and wonderfull.

i like useing th negitive aswell

things are things.

so diversity topples a meglomanical severe defence
against a hollow sensitiveity and altur ego reality

a ridged pack of tall defenders
with charataristics of absurd universal abstraction

and a certain method in imagination
of glutony for inadequesy
and shame

who knows maybe something beutifull will be born

all my work is like trying to atone for something
some illigitimate sence of horror..

at being here ..
in this body
country
planet

i dont know when i felt this awfull failure guilt despised eating evil cunt bitch spirit

some karma know dought

hey maybe i was a murderer.in a big battle..a order of many to death..
maybe it was a mistake..or a cruel calculated risk..
.maybe my race is one

maybe poison lust power greed slavery violence brutality ignorance and hate are th trade marks of this

maybe thats why nz drinks itself into coma
maybe we are fucking pricks and should die

maybe all th dead spirits swarm th sensitive get into th heads
dis possess..

like america sickness aswell

dont get me wrong..indiginous folks were pricks when they wanted to be aswell
no dought..

but why is this genetic story
this personifyed sence of collective shame and grief something that visits me...

some lost innocence..at th end of th road
beutifull aotearoa..
not the prison camp..

now dwelling in th epicentre of the land wars...a quater masters original house for th british army for fucks sake..

and this is a esteemed and asked for prize ive won!
haha..what a fool.
im now complicit with th systemic cultural capitilist christian ideological global devil beast..
ad all th minions of that pattern.

punk wont save me now..
cultural genocide
and all th machinations of colonial arrogance and
that stoned looking maori woman who reckoned she saw spirits said there was a few pple hung outside on th barn beam
i go into th shed fer wood in th dark

nothing can get you..if your in your self propperly..

but im not.

a better lie f for th flock...settlers and all that..
th bosses got good slaves both ways..

how can any sence of purpose and light be alowed to exist ..evolution

moral conviction...peace aroha reconciliation

all those quant notions that nz art has delt with already..
time to move on eh fellas..

go on to th global market of mask trade n lie manufactuer..
cos culture is a sport..a competition
a market
a hospital
and power consumption.

when our storys are so dark..when our own hearts are so filthy poisoned and lost to our souls.

just speaking for myself i suppose.

just that sence of humans realy shouldnt be allowed to breed anymore

that it would be fitting for a universal probation to the law of our bodys hearts n minds

listen to th roar of iadequit destruction
and the futility of pride arrogance and possession

of what isnt even ours

life

just th passenger ...as mr pop was telling me whilst driveing around parehaka roads.

shit...its like i dont know whats mine and whats yours

and who we are anyway..

theres some stain reference of spiritual cross over..some temporal shift inside me

and the anxiety fear and rage...sort of persists..

or maybe like th weather.

theres this story..this growing theme i remember forget and remember again

and it hurts like fuck

i dont know where it comes from..
why its my story..and it makes me cofused and afraid..and some how like theres some evil demon king in my heart that wants to snap my spine and eat my liver.

ha! just like a pokemon story..

and i yeah th devil visited when i was a kid aswell

im quite adept to letting other pples delusions run my operateing system.

id realy like to get back in th spaceship please..

do my away mission

and be harmnicly happy again with all th other occilateing creatures of th cosmos..

oh..where acturaly in a spacial form here? in physical space as creatures here?

damn!
universal law..
?
damn service
and all th benficiary heiracical belief systems of ascention and grace..

getting dirty..getting shit n blood on your hands

like a alchoholic..
or a cival servant chain smoker and a lifetime or denial

ghosts and protection

eaten alive again..

free at last.
when i dont know who i am

i had to smile when i was realy know one

youve nothing to loose
memery of something like home

when your a operateing program of illusion..thru centurys
suffering engine and responsability sacrifices

often a situation like heart
apon abandonment
settles certain directional imprints

akin to grief despair morose zombie murder flesh rape

and special abilitys as transparent glowing external anomilie

its a horizon effect with a flipped ring

no..im sure when the mind looses its grip
th body rejects...a cancer swells like self administered rescue pack to the tide

of th moon water universe
with every instant home
in a fear transit passage
your always welcome here...come be our captive

in time we will forget th atrocitys..the pride
belittled to a shuffle in line
coupon restraint
worth while device issue downpayment for gratitude service

externally..the principle directs flow
ensnares th young
a solitude to decouple
face upward the sharps of penetrateing possable
like heaven sword
splintered your false self
mother fucker
cunt and wanker devil spawn

like to black the bones
club the reptile
shoot th foot

amount to no end of trench navigation
in inroads intwined spirit force
from the pin pointed density of gravitys rainbow

bending the soul to illusion deficit
glamour hastle
all zeros credit th advance....like smile
mother n child total giant

woman of thunder cloud an fury ripping tearing and makein g amends for her service in satans armoury

warhead toothpick...meltdown seizure
poison totality
here on spining balls
a sheild and armour
light like forenzic evidence as cracks employ new trackers
sensitive service providers..
scales and time zones collapseing
a wholesome borrowed lattice werk of dimentional weaves
homespun detecters for malevolence
transit taxs

a car repair workshop in th gravy shop of vice and apathy..
spiritual gas station with
the fossel love
oozeing with th solar flare of arthritic juvinile horror

cos all pyrimids..in these secret occolt shrines to worth
wobble like plates on sticks
on a canabuls nose freek side show tuning amplifyer

digital trash

weve read th reviews
the shit stinks bro

your fucking done for

best say your preys mate

go home

big storm

we must stop trying to make art

in order to locate that which needs to

do
say make
think


maybe come up against that thats not pretentious mental offal

even if its bad uglee or beutifull in that freedom

but you know what ever..just a mood

sence of purpose
belief
belonging

beuaty
rain
coulour

joy cascades

to loose weight

dont eat as much

to be happy

be happy

(smile)

emotional identity

who am i supposed to be

for you
for me

getting it wrong is such a abandonment fear reflex

haha
holding that pose sweat dribbles down my back
in frnt of th fire

ok so i cant be fucked writeing and i realy shouldnt..

im a bloody basket case in some redemption up n down black hole sphincter tradjectory at th moment

dont get me wrong some total bloody blessed passage of karmic cleaning accellerated trip

tradeing martyr guilt economy salvation for
resistance trust energy work in a dimetional shft
cult classic
into my damn brain

galactic core...just visiting here...
you know
seeing things as they are..in back roads dark dirt forgotton world dialogs..

praise to th teachers
th parents
the tribe

bottom of th barrel
world war now
the revoulution n me

and can ya get thru th day you sad ass barbarian greed fuck demon spawn?
pattern was altured...opened quick
fester infection
doom chorus...self inquiry junky
philsophical overload untrained take it all personal

and make shit that attaches to your mind spine and times

im a layer of collected patterns of inheareted histery

shopping for a commen ground to a future less than th higest past

like a line to heaven we already are

gods love
spirit universe
the hurt redemption

and ten thousand forgivenesses that ever repeat into a personal tollerance strategy

and suicide screems that th skys on fire ..
and were torturing ourselfs to a denial process of de evolution
couched in luxury coffin..

pull light
in
centre th swirl..its a open subtle body relity thin g

like uniforms were glowing white..and the hurt
was the lesson embodyed

from old old storys

wake up remembering..th bombed city
wonderous babys
eagle soaring

and loss and abundance
like pulse of forever
centre of th brain

and possessive jelosy..terminal sadness
poor me and self centred abysses yawn like a fresh start to every capture controll avoidance weak point
of holding to something in th chaos

like getting up in th morning
like pushing ya self like training
like sending texts in large dark places
crying ..saying that you love your mother

love your mother
your self
your father
your self
your sister
your self
your brother
your self

help
hold

skitzaphrenic delusion


we are angels
we are good

my culture
my slef

a parent
a child

plasma screen illusion
in whole sale slaughter enslavement of war economy

christ lie
like
evolution exteranlly
poverty within

reference system
library of ignorance

psychotherapeudic victim seat
your devil is a relief

well
mums th werd
mums th crucifyed virgin martyr

primeval creation
like insect mind

unifying consciousness
of whole potential

where all beutifull

but some are echos of ridgid controll violence
self denial authority of fear

like so many tribal abuse scenerios
slum dweller

scared wife
and gimmie a child to th age of 7 and ill give you a disasociated self hateing addict

that i can decant my poison into cos i cant deal with my own shadow

go you church dwelling sheep motherfuckers
you conformist clone drones of heiracy approval

your system is breaking
youll need tanks to controll th evil slurry of delusion
misappropriated fractured reality

crime camera
drug epidemic

its a compleat failure
this free west model of economic pyrimid

so many normal real poor pple
so many good willed simple whole hearts

so much potential

and all patterns requre authers
storys sung
wrote
and flesh n word

n all that ak 47 touting paramilitary rebellion

humans are this crazy weed
this splended vehicle of possable

that sort of

fucked too much
and now im here

it wasnt your fault
you accountancy firms endless overtime
your power grids select ownership slavery

the endless neurosis of suburban decay

metal health in camps of isolation
death metal democracy

which bullshit to believe in
your a dj with beats
wow

synthetic anehtnitised hopeless abandomnment

i want a belonging
self
place
some thing werth fighting for

some semblance of safty
in swamp land conformity ignorance

lack of understanding
communication
and defend and attack barbarian hordes

over privledged spoilt children
owning everything

nothing joy
blackened soul

its destruction th best hunger for
some collapse for puritys nature
a decline to begin

in some other species
some other sentient form
blessed cursed

its a good time
party on dudes

the atmosphere is our psychie
im intwined in this delusion

im a critical mass of information
head fucked
grief stricken

planting pathetic missives in sanitys backyard.

some ownership
beast
child
ghost
angel

nationhood device
a good warrior

special envoy
like everyones excellent opportunity
consciousness affords

new skin
and can i get a witness

motherfucker hell revolt

and crushing halt
damned ending

secure stop

beuty envelop
that was already there

we had and are everything we ebver can be
or achieve

all th complicated adons

just make demoralised retards controllale rat maze
im being eaten endlessly by the crucade

im opting out th best i can

but theres no where to go.

further screenings of this illusion and fantasy at some other date

now back to david letterman
all carrys on
direction in storys we belong in
toward
repair

leave th house go for a walk

grace trust

embody
nothing
empty pure

forgot ya self

whjat time
place
thing

and every time
place
thing

a good one

encompass..a seed possable to somewhere wizer
and hurt guide
lesson react

ok

of terror and rape

ahhh
fuck that

cunt should die

will do

and what we do to ourself

forgive
gratefull

suck it up....bigger monster

fat weoponry

just smile
nothing can get you more than that now

empower that wonderfull victim

no repeat performances tho honey
doom looks like a industry

pharmaceticul hell
with cult consumer
overlords to apathy

cattle

and star beings

big brain dude
universe like that

of terror and rape

stealing souls to run tanks on

ahhh
fuck that

cunt should die

will do

and what we do to ourself

forgive
gratefull

suck it up....bigger monster

fat weoponry

just smile
nothing can get you more than that now

empower that wonderfull victim

no repeat performances tho honey
doom looks like a industry

pharmaceticul hell
with cult consumer
overlords to apathy

cattle

and star beings

big brain dude
universe like that

its good to be here
as a wee house art job regional centre sort of thing

theres been some bloody good artists who have come thru here

(just heard that a wanganui man has sold his soul on trade me!!)

real greatfull for th chance to move north and show in a amazeing gallery like th seargeant..
do some talks..

and most importantly make a new body of work with a new energy from a new place

ive been realy dis combobulated and feel realy rootless and transitory..

i hope to find some new soil of self and environment to make a set of stand out works to show at th gallery..and other projects.

for now ive started to set up...accessing materials
and contacts locally

off to a retreat for a long sit..and listen.
and come n start that translation in interdimentional land

in calm ballanced happy ways..with no hint of anxiety or attitude

yeah
ommmm

i listened to my "neurosis" cd in my new cave yesterday. it was glorious. sort of old testiment poetry type doom metal. deep n dark...i saw them in brooklyns masonic temple when i was there. apocaliptic post industrial doom

i punctured a huge sheet of cavas with old and new nails in a systimatic line

like i was giveing a beast a spine. its about 20 metres long.
one side of th material is canvas..the others hessian.

im alowed to scavange from th house load of relics below
theres a huge pile of dusty lumber waiting in th dark there with weird boxs tucked away underneath naily beams.

the birds fly in and poo on th things..
it looks like a ralph hotere painting on th floor.

this space can let my imagination fly...and my body is so sore n fatueuged still..it is trying to implemennt my will

king kapisi on th nescafe espresso instant packet is encourageing me

big ups to th king

many things occur to me in th studio state..a kind of exile poetic reflective zone
the acts of creativity that encompass energys and things beyond th individual
about th land
about th sky
about time
and meaning and majic
futility rage
human soul and desire
and empty ness

i write some of the things i think of on paper next to th cavases
its best when i dont need to know how it will end up

ive noticed this before from other studio cave times
when i constantly think what it should be before i do th doing
it dosnt work

when i go in there and make it up every day..useing what IT IS as IT IS without future projection too much
then its better
and i do a great deal...but its in tandem with th
puritanical little ego controll freek i am aswell..

theres a monolithic element to the beginning in possable mode
i imagine buying a hundred tins of oil
100 buckets of paint
ect

i have 100 bits of nice drawing paper
bought with cash mate
from th drunkard paper guy in chch...some animal he owns possesses him..although a nobel

theres a guy mowing th lawn at th bank behind th cottage now

this incessant machine controll land of rural beurocracy
every day theres been some house like interuption

its council owned..it will never be peacefull. its open on th corner like a choclate box yesteryear fantasy

thank god for ross th potters kind shed loan..a world to make my own for a bit

im not going to anilies you n me
or you
or make you talk

just a note from that other part of me.

i got a talk tonight at th art gallery
part of me wants to sing
and take my cloths off
another part wants to preach ..
another coo softly and entice

another wants to get th fuck over my self and do a good job
like it ment something..like were all part of something
other than this cult of individual and spectater apathy.

how far can i go ..can any of us go
with out help
thats why its about sybol usually
cos
the actural doing is fantasy..the machine mind wont allow growth ...will jam fear in every oriface
and emit a crucifiction like neon tag on your soul

state owned enterprise
do it to your selfs
hopeless cattle

tender seeds in dark
and oil seeps
and all th energy of th universe is my tiny form
your small
mind
like a map of th universe with connections as plentiful as all stars
incarnate
universe child
god and fear and wonder and hope and chaos and war
joy and energy
and still and calm

everything is everything
sitting at computer

FUCK

BALLSED THAT UP

mistake

be ya self openly..

fucking moron...! fuck


musta been good then

real vaulnerable

like

i matter i n this equation anyway?

fuck

hey guy at th door

you "got any drawings for sale"

me " na -aint got anything"

i was sitting a bit low today..and could talk.

you should come back and have a cup of tea.

not to buy drawings...but i figured that was a pretext to meet me or something ..

or am i dumb n nieve..and ya want cheep drawings?

truth is i fundamentally suck at th moment..theres no majic

its been sucked into a hole in th ground and i am morose n tired beyond belief.

but your knock on th door was a annoying reminder of a reason to exist at any rate..

in th commerce of intimacy
and our need to own what speaks to us

-just flick me a email or ring th cottsge...so i know ya comeing and im not in my undies like to day.

..and those muffins i made while david was talking on th phone were pretty good too.

spent all day...10 hours in front of this video game civilisation..!
and fire

and only feel alive now. 11 21. weird.
takes me all day to wake up before bed again.

is that like grand ma calling me last night aswell?
didnt have energy to listen. literally .
.
peace