Melt your hangs

Twice in the last two months I've ventured northward to where the wood is red, and the winsome insights plentiful. In a feigned attempt at concision, I've posted these two distinct journeys together, as though to graft them in our memories, and save space for more. Grey magic you say? Should we find the very details that make memory such sweet diversion errant or missing, I'll repent, but... what is done is done. My surrogate intermagination melted them together. Esther meet Andrew.

New Age Jughead's Innervision Reads: "However we are we're okay."

Andrew the cosmic referee reflects ernestly on the quiet spaces between and the hollow pressure calloused fingertips create.

The sky and ocean in butter-colored union.

melting

In france they call gaps, "happy teeth." I'm not only the happy teeth club president, I'm also a client.

Andrew thought these looked like dutch landscapes. That sat well with me.

Sometimes finding your balance is matter of losing it for a moment. (Whoa. I just had one of those moments where you actually take your own advice for a minute. It Gave me the chills. Or... maybe it's just that I'm listening to Annie Lennox's "why." "I may be lost I may be blind, I may be viciously unkind.")

melted... not...

This totally didnt work! The fractures are so achingly clear! nevertheless I find the beauty speaks beyond the failings of another attempt to break reality in half and romp in the silly stringy time/space gravy. Will I never learn!

Esther made this beautiful mask for h'ween but we just took it to the woods instead.

On the descent esther aptly queried, "Are you texting and hiking?" Twas true. Though I'm often mistaken for a neanderthal from a rental car advertisement ( twalso true!) I'm actually the future. Just quaintly hiking with my shiny talk tool.

No intimacy issues here.

Stylin'.

hot shots part deux

that movie made me laugh like crazy when i was a kid. i think it was one of the first times that i truly understood parody since i got all the rambo references. truth be told, stallone, schwarzenegger, and van dam were my 3 favorite actors roughly from age 4 to 12. i saw all of their films, over and over. seriously.

here's two more nice photos of the journey show taken by the talented and charming photographer joshua simpson....check out his talents and charms at www.joshuablakephotography.com

hope everyone is doing well amidst the december avalanche...

hot shots

joseph childress sings down the bus

glowing secret clubhouse...the flaccid rabbit

frank rising to ship out

jeff manson, busride shredder, delicate candle bearer

thanks for coming on the journey! spirits high spirits high.

thanks to our Portland visitors, Watery Graves of Portland and Rob Walmart...please take a moment to appreciate the extent of their radness at the Marriage Records website, an inspiring crew of special individuals. and of course thanks so much to Them There Skies, Jeff Manson, Joseph Childress, and Sonya Cotton for a constant flow of killer tunes.

tell us how you feel! and show us your photomoments!

love

journey show

Friday night Journey Show

John Benson's loving bus will be departing from the Ashby BART station in Berkeley promptly at 8pm this Friday to drive out to our secret show spot....we hope to take as many friends as we can fit along for the ride, so come in time and get on the bus!

there will be performances to enjoy for the busride and out at the chosen wonderspot by:

WATERY GRAVES OF PORTLAND, ROB WALMART, JEFF MANSON, SONYA COTTON, THEM THEIR SKIES, MARTIN SALATA, JOSEPH CHILDRESS, and SHIP

the show will be in part outdoors, so bring some warm layers, perhaps a blanket, perhaps bring a dinner picnic, definitely bring your adventure kit.  if people want to drive, just meet the bus at the ASHBY BART no later than 8pm and caravan out to the place.  

give an email or a call if you have questions (774-454-1445), see you friday!

l o v e
r i b s  

sneak treeview

Firstly: Friday! Special Bus journey Show! If yoo don't know, we'll repost the maneuvers in the following days, or, just e-mail ribbonspublications@gmail.com. Also, secretly, save april 26th, feb 2nd, and feb 9th on your calendar. It's a ton to ask, but you will not be sorry.

On to stories and trying to be funny!

A few weeks ago david benj wilson esquire and I climbed like 800 tree's with our ultibro samuel "mammoth bravery," fleischner trying to find the most beautiful and perfect arbor-environments to sing and make strummery in. It was rewarding, challenging, and very very dangerous. Everyone got hurt in one way or another. But here we are, still laughing, slapping our knees, flossin', playing with paste, thinking about babies... itchin' the itch that itches y'know?

Anyways, the above is an outtake from the treevd of me playing a gjam from a project that is yet un-named beyond frank gilbert lyon II. Sometimes I horse around and call it water whatever or weaving willard... but the truth is... like a seed in the loins of a cavebro... it goes unnamed. And that is a special kind of fucked up situation for me, because, I love naming things, and think I am pretty good at it. One time "they" sent me to sydney, just to name a princess...

And frighteningly, its a trend, I've been making lots of art and collahbjects (special and pleasantly but weirdly shaped collages), and, I just can't figure out what to name any of them, even though in my mind they are just like children. It's why I am carrying a notebook around, and stealing all the cute things my friends say for the purpose of illuminating thoughts I thought I had... but didn't? Yeah things are getting pretty deep over here.

Also, for anyone who likes things:

Julianna Barwick.

You can here her mp3s at her cleverly titled website:

http://www.juliannabarwick.com/

It's like some non-denominational angels finally heard me wishing that panda bear was a girl I could fall in love with instead of just a groovy/comfy stoner-uncle figure. But, hey, you never heard me complaining, I've kept the prayers quite to myself and my pillow.

But seriously, Julianna is, as I like to say these days, "special." For realz!

It's like all the best of enya, (as if any of its bad!) but with the urgency of annie lennox circa "why." Which, is also "special," and furthermore more, tear enducing.

Holy crap, what a world. Almost enough to make you yell "yahowa" from the tippy-top of a telephone pole.

excersexy

why is max exhaling so deeply? why is david glowing in warrior II? why is frank making you so randy? Besides being your average post-jog cool-down, normal yoga lazer band practice, or typical kinky postpartum bottle fantasy, these poses strike out toward a new project...pinup shots for an upcoming calendar for the band called snowblink. it's like the snowblink version of maxim.

it feels good.

snowblink

snowblink will be performing songs and new experimental dance this early evening at 7pm at triple base for the third round of Drew's performance series. yesterday we shocked daniella's neighbors when we practiced our 4 man pulsing pit...see you how it makes you feel!

we're also playing on wednesday at the Rickshaw Stop for 60 Watt Kid's album release. we'll see if we let our pit out their too, we might be too shy.

the plot thickens

I went back to the hills this morning to draw but the fog lay so thick I could not see a thing. Though I appreciate mystery in life, this lack of view and my curiosity about the events in the woods the other day led me back to test their realness.

So I went under the barbed wire fence again and the first thing I saw was the black swan with its long curvy neck swim off with the other ducks under the low branches. REAL. then I went up the ridge and saw the pool where the vultures had been. there were no vultures but in their absence was the stripped carcass of the deer. REAL. I got close enough to see it's empty insides swarmed with little maggots. SICK. I went on to the next pool, skeptical but hoping, and saw again the two swans. REAL. they were still doing their odd circling and stick-lifting routines.

I decided to follow the path a bit further and see what i saw. After a little, I started noticing some signs of human life. a few old building materials left to rot and rust, some buckets covered in dirt, a stack of bee keeping boxes, and then this creepy greenhouse that was most clearly not abandoned. keep in mind the foggy quality of the day was adding greatly to my sense of being in a horror movie. I walked into this clearing where I noticed a stone wall and the strange roof top of some kind of a compound. Sitting on the wall was a large peacock. I walked a bit toward the unknown building to get a closer look at the peacock and it jumped to the ground and ran into the woods away from me. Then all of a sudden the trees to my left erupted with the hooting and whooping of some animals that sounded like monkeys. Feeling like my presence might have caused this disturbance, I jumped behind a bush. I waited a second and looked up to see this older man with a grey beard and pony tail, in sweatpants, work books and a ragged sweater walk towards the trees where the sound was coming from, leave my sight, and do something to make the animals stop. I decided to be bold and perhaps talk to this man and learn the secrets of this place, so I stepped out and stood by the wall. He came back from the woods and started to walk towards me without looking at me, talking to himself. For a second I thought he might walk right by me without even acknowledging me, but he stopped about 4 feet before and looked at me with a surprised and pissed off expression that quickly made it clear that this man was going to be sharing no secrets with me. He asked what i was doing, I told him I must have wandered onto his property from the woods. He told me that was true and that I better wonder back where I came. I tried to ask him what this place was, he just looked at me with more confusion and piss and said that he lives here. I apologized and said I would leave him be, but as a last effort to ease into secret I asked if he cared for animals. he said yes. then told me to leave. so i left, and he stood their watching me walk away until I was gone.

who is this man with animals? i want to know but I'm afraid of him and his army of birds. But i think everyone should know that their is a an Isle of Dr. Moreau situation in the Richmond hills. I ALMOST DIED.

Fable Day

some days have their stories...my yesterday became a parable.

here's what happened:

first of all, this is me david, frank is with his family on the east coast for a moment (love to the lyon). So, I went up to the spot in the Richmond hills yesterday morning before work to keep working on this drawing I've been drawing up there. Pretty chill, whatever. After a few hours of sitting, I got up to take a walk and eat my tuna fish sandwich. I headed down this hill where I hadn't been yet, and as I approached the edge of the woods, down the hill, I noticed a strange light. As I drew closer to the woods edge, I looked through the curtain of eucalyptus and realized that there was some small body of water in the woods, which was a shock as the richmond hills are dry creatures. Or so I thought.

Here's where the symbolism goes crazy. So in my dreamy curiosity, I passed under the barbwire fence that contained the woods, and walked towards the dappled green light reflecting off the water. It was a small pool of water in which 6 Ducks were following each other round in winding course. I watched them with warmth, then looked to my right and realized that over the next little ridge was what appeared to be another clearing. I walked up and saw a SECOND pool of water, also murky, but with bright bright sun soaking over it, and on the far edge of the water, the were 6 gigantic Vultures sunning themselves in a pack (one had its back to me, wings spead in all of their vast dark glory). I was startled seeing such huge mean birds, so I walked a wide loop only to find, get this, a THIRD pool of water, this one murkier and darker than the first two, and in this pool 2 immense Swans (what!) were floating. At this point I needed to sit down. What were swans doing in this nowhere pool of water? I ate my tuna sandwich watching them as they went about their strange routine. One of them stayed in the water, circling from one edge to the other, and then doing these sweeping half flight/half swoop sprints across the length of this 50yd long pool. It was so white but the water was so brown, each low flight I cold see the water stains on its underbelly. The other swan spent this whole time standing on the edge of the water, lifting stick after stick up with its beak and moving each one from left to right, not with any seeming purpose. David Lynch eat your heart out. I finished my sandwich and apple and looked up and realized 3 of the vultures were sitting like huge stones in the trees above. I figured I better complete my visits and go over to the vulture pool. As I approached the pool, the vultures all of a sudden started swooping every which way, leaving behind the body of a massive deer on the sun soaked bank of the pool. I took in just a minute of its grand antlered head and the gaping whole in its belly before the sound of the vultures over head and the sound of flies made me run with my hands over my head away back toward the first pool. When I got back to the first pool, the ducks were gone, and there was just 1 small black swan bird that instantly darted away from me under the cover of the trees on the shaded side of the pool. I sat for a moment in waves of wonder before crawling back under the barb wire fence and starting to walk back because I had to get to work.

As I walked back and my head returned to my neck, 2 things happened. First, I found a small dead bird with grey wings and a bright yellow breast. When I bent to inspect, I realized that it was perfectly intact except that both of its eyes were gouged out. I sometimes collect things like this to study in my amateur naturalist way (above is a humming bird that I have in a jar), but I recently had an incident where I found a baby rattlesnake that was dead with a mouse half-way digested still in its belly, which I thought about leaving or taking or taking or leaving. After some doubt, I decided it was too rad to leave behind, I wanted it. so I took it. Not 20 minutes after I put the snake in a bag and stowed it in my guitar case, I fell about 15ft out of a tree while getting ready to film a song with Frank while Sam was here. The first thing that came to mind as I lay on the ground below the tree was the snake. After I mananaged to get up, I removed it from my guitar case and buried in hopes of doing the right thing. Still feeling the soreness from that fall, I brought the bird off the path and put it in the ground. Second thing that happened. As I got nearly back to the main path, I saw the first people all morning, these highschool lovers who had skipped out on school to come up to the hills (I loved them). They asked me where the path goes, and I said something about how it just keeps going, and then a snake with a yellow stripe on it back darted right between us all! The girl screamed, I gave a mini leap, and the guy started laughing.

That all happened to me yesterday! I was in a parallel parable universe. Any interpretations of these events would be much appreciated, I would love to know what my life means.

seed change

been getting inside fruits lately. been looking at seeds. each a new design of container and miracle.

holding a seed in your hand for long enough can make you cry.

just whisper it,

seed.

whoa.

Backlog pt.2

sam is back in new york, frank and I have much tree singing under our belts, and now we rest, until we don't, which is never too long since we're the virgo-est worker bees the queens ever seen....back to drawing every morning in the hills for me (i sat in the rain drawing for the first time in a long while this morning, soggy pants soggy paper, beautiful light), and we're getting ourselves together for a show on sunday at Triple Base Gallery that our dear Drew Bennet curated. We get to play with Lucky Dragons (hooray!), who has been blissfully rocking our world for some months now, we loves hims.

and here are more older file photos, all from a day of playful discovery and childhood-channeling with our amazing friend Tim Dutcher when he visited from middletown CT. we were crafting all together in frank's back yard after an hour of Tim leading us through the experimental theatre/body movement class that he teaches to preschoolers....amazing stuff.

chasin the muff around

namaste.

first off I think it's fair to mention that as I form my thoughts into a blogpost I'm watching the criterion release of Dazed and Confused so it might slip into my literature a bit...actually, instead of writing this i wish i could just show you all the rad potleaf designing I'm sketching out for my next tattoo.

so frank and I have the pleasure of hosting our dear friend Sam Fleischner (seen above at his last west coast visit and in NY absorbing the sounds of our other dear friends Andrew and Ben, MGMT, as they warmed up to record their new record for COLUMBIA records, just before meeting with sir Rick Rubin, and going on tour with Of Montreal, they are rad and worth knowing about, watching them break the into the realm of popular music is quite wonderful for me).

God I love Aerosmith.

anyway, Sam is here from NY to lend his film skills to our master plan for our upcoming show at the Eleanor Harwood Gallery in January...not to give too much away, but I almost saw frank fall out a 100 foot high pine tree that we had climbed to sing one of songs for sam. Sam brings it out of us, that's why we asked him to help us. we still have 4 more days of shooting and getting messy.

anyone's parents going out of town anytime soon?

here's frank doing some more treehugs, training for the TreeVD.




anyway, the point is, don't be surprised if the next time you see me I'm carry a paddle and looking for freshman to spank.

i said a broom sweep-a broom

I said a broom sweep-a mop-a sweep-a mop-a sweep-a broom

uh huh

alright

one more time now...

OKAY
SHIP
BEATBEAT WHISPER

at the Hotel Utah, on thursday, as hannah's elegant flyer states, we'll all be singing in ways that child, grandfolk, and cool youth alike are welcome to enjoy.

don't diss, just come. or if you can't it's cool too.

What Would Stevie Wonder Do?/ Stevie Wonder's Last Name Is Wonder.

So, in the past couple weeks I have had the truly great fortune of seeing Animal Collective and The Dirty Projectors play "new music" in the bay area.

And if you've seen me, you may have heard my spiel about dave longstreth of the dps and noah lennox (aka panda bear) of the collective fighting a gentle but thorough war in my mind for the right to be known as

"the most vital, inventive, and soulful, interpreter of stevie wonder in the postpostmodern american musical epoch/slurry."

Anways its a dead heat, and a pleasure to behold, but I felt like it was worth drawing attention to the originator. However rad my two fine friends may be, niether of them are freaking out pbs and real children. Its a sign of the times and the talent.

Also, please, do note in both videos, the kid in the red shirt with the moppish black hair is my hero. If your sensitive to children illing transcendental on the dance tip, I'd pop a dramamine and put on a diaper, tyra doesn't know what fierce means.

And finally, whoever said kids have short attention spans clearly failed to graduate from jam high, and got an F in grooving, because, if you let your soft, beautiful, lusterous little eyes wonder to the lower right hand corner of the video, you'll notice uncle stevie had the tots on hydraulics for almost 7 minutes. That.... is whoa.

Thanks be to my friend jamie for showing me these a long time ago. He is a classic.

Stevie Wonder, Sesame Street. 1972.

Stevie Wonder - Superstition live on Sesame Street

birth vibration

today is my father Howie Wilson's 60th birthday. i love him very much, he is my dad.


today is my friend Martin Salata's 25th birthday. i love him too, he is my friend.

celebrate!

backlog pt.1

should i show you my every day?


i have all of these photos i wanted to share after days that i felt stung to commemorate, but when every day takes up the space of every day past, it can be an awkward force to reinvent yesterday with a posting on a time sensitive growth such as a weblog. i am a time sensitive growth. I'm a sensitive grower. i'm growing. and i'm still getting used knowing how to share myself. how to make the sharing a part of the having of the day. i can;t won;t don't need to share my everyday...no, i can only show my everday. the only ever one day you inhabit constantly.

check out my young friends marcus and gabe up in a tree. they are doing the raddest thing ever, hanging out being kids. whenever i get hung up on memories and preserving parts of me, I remember to not need to remember so much and I go climb a tree....cling to the branch let go! thanks little sages!

anyway, here's me now writing "about whatever" about whatever, and here's some photos from some nice things that happened in the recent past. [never in my life have I felt more like Doc from Back to the Future. anyone know where I can get a feisty, short, sort of cute, highschool sidekick and a car with those amazing doors that open like dragon wings?]


frank and I went to pt reyes last friday to intall some of my drawings and this title piece that frank made in the main pt reyes visitor center. we had a great hang with the park rangers (right before we took this picture she called us the three musketeers). the show's up through october so check it next time you're up in that beautiful place.


we went on KALX and played songs with Joseph Childress and Adam Snider just before that Ben Lomond festival, joseph had a real nice old timey way about him, playing his songs for the kind listeners that is.

snowblink played a show in Davis set up by the wonderful Troy Mighty. here he playing as Dead Western, his ghost presence in full flight.


that's all for the now, should be some more photographs in the near future when I get the flux capacitor working...marty!

Amature Exstatic Pestilence of the Mind

Roll Call: Whose felt extremely heavy at least once in the last 2 weeks?
I need to know...

What could it be... New aquarian energy? A Mellow Rain Upon your Soul? Yr period? Full Moon? A Psycho Sexual Coconut Coma?

I'm pretty sure I got hit by all five, like making out with some pentagonal headed hydra crap.

And this is all I have to show for it. It is NOT art.


The only thing more distressing to the softminded than tiedie is... distressed tiedie

In anycase, it seems I'm not the only one who'se felt this of late, and tomorrow night, to prove it, friend, deep musician, and master rhetoritician Alexis Georgopolus will be spinning some serious circular psych nectar at the opening for GOOD TIMES: BAD TRIPS: a new book published by Gallery 16 Editions, put together by Cliff Hengst and Scott Hewick.

S.A.N.E.
September 14 - November 3, 2007
Opening Reception for the Artists, Friday September 14, 6-9pm
with Music by Arp (Smalltown Supersound)

GALLERY 16
501 Third Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
415.626.7495 [p]
415.626.8439 [f]

Check the comments for a more extensive and illuminating write up! I'll be there!

And finally, as though you didnt get enough already, further analysis uncovers an obvious cry for help in the uncanny resemblence shared by the bubble blowing cherub and my mother. Whoa is right!



This recreational nightmare all ended soundly however with my 25th birthday, as emblemized elegantly by a multigenerational homage to nat russel and his grandmother, who made me a gentleness banana fifty years ago, sensing I'd need such tender support in the choppy waters of yonderyear. Thanks to all who made it (white) magical.



Whoever coined the term chill pill actually meant "gentleness banana," but was forced to compromise when they realized they were reckoning with the two most unrhymeable words in our fair tongue.

Either way, take one. you deserve it.