get back to thinking only about art. it's the only time anything is good. have you ever noticed that so many people are walking around thinking the same hopeless despairing thoughts?

there was a whole month. there was B+E and co's artists space reading. the ride home. there was the last minute rental, there was not being sure I'd qualify, there was being certain I wouldn't on my long lugging of luggage up to LGA. there was the front desk person too fried to give a fuck, and getting the car. there was freewill fest. there was maine. there was fungus reset. there was RE. knowing my way around the woods in the dark. there was complete and total exhaustion to the point of entering another universe. there was listening to primus at full volume in the parking lot of the lowell mass whole foods. there was crazy deja vu that insane band. there was every musician there that invoked a new life. there was meeting LD. there was all those bands. there was C and the shed and drinking spring water straight out of the ground. there was swimming in the river. there was big smoosh the dog. there was the crazy current. there was sun burn. there was the burger in farmington, at tuck's ale house, keith. there was that little book store. there was that heinous drive home. there was finding out about work trip and immediately hemorrhaging $1500. there was working intensely all week. there was money money money. there was a stint of painting on the burger. there was a dissociation and frustration so intense it blew up in my face with a terrible decision. there was intense interruption of life for work trip. there was being in orange county. there was going to see megan 2.0 with L+L. there was guest room nap. there was intense, intense regret. there was so many roaches in that hotel. there was moving rooms three times to avoid them. there was calls to kyle, there was his carlos mencia film idea. there was call with JS. there were several very long life-historical phone calls at the very edge of my own sanity, alone in that la quinta. there was one of the darkest weeks, and arguing in my own head. there was fitting in and very expensive steak. there was another unlikely rental. there was being destroyed back home. there was visiting q+m new place and being gifted a drone. there was july 4th and 5th weekend in the rockaways with the peeps. there was jerk bbq. there were ryans crazy burgers. there's been firing up this e-pistolary exchange with LD and planning the october tour. there's planning france. there's starting on UI/UX comic. there's figuring that out. there's these long intense talks with people about what I need to do. there's making the decision. there's integrating a large part of myself that's been compartmentalized for years, and moving on. so much moving on.

today there is health insurance, there is renewed driver license. there is money from drawing sale. there is not feeling worried. there is walking, iced tea with kate. there is a bike ride over the bridge. there is invoicing for a dismal sum of work. there is looking at motorcycles on fb marketplace. there is orange light from canada fires. there is an interest in the factory floor. there is a cross-medium abstinent feeling. leaving phone off under a dresser somewhere type feeling.

there was a wedding. there were many michelob ultras. there was shotgun shooting at clay discs. there was hunting lodges. there was the smell of rain and daily downpours. there was tuxedos in 97˚ weather. there was the D-Bone chicken sandwich there were ghost talks there were gins on the plane home in celebration of return, and some the next day with C at the studio, and some the next day with Car. Altogether enough to give it up entirely now. there was feeling better there was the vague illness lingering until maybe even today in my energy the dress shoes gave me plantar fasciitis. there was building the drawing store and listing 85 drawings. there was posting it and selling. there is to be shipping. there was starting daily drawing again with works on new york times cutouts. there was returning to day job. there was the idea finally arriving to me for what sounds to weave for the Catskill Zendo performance this weekend, and there was weaving it today, starting to. there was a studio visit with GunD. there was recording saxophones with Frances and Dre and Carolyn. there was writing the lyrics for an acapella song, perhaps the first of several, with Carolyn, and our drawing the Ozempic Gimli drawing. there was much sadness. there was talking on the phone in my sisters house there was a column of smoke that rose from the forest behind her house and turned into a huge white cumulus cloud.

flying to tallahassee, tunneling north to bainbridge, for a wedding. sad to miss a week of foreman programming at anthology is the lamest city dwelling emotion. ive finally been paid for april. i havent been making art and hardly working since being sick. i will be gone for one week down in the depths of georgia. no internet, no car, haunted room, far from town, TV life, isolation of high order. can only think of it as some kind of semi monastic retreat. bringing film camera. bringing drawing materials. perhaps a good time to finish writing up greater evil. or work on WW. historically it's been difficult to have ideas down there. saw frank hurricane and joey play the other night. played dice into the night. should see if i can find a show for weedwacker in paris in july. been considering using the football painting as cover for Self Driving Life, but the painting may be too big, 'less it's an LP? thinking about music. thinking about los angeles. listening to Jonny's album Pastry. more weedwacker tour in fall? new england.

heading back into the pit

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Greater Evil Diary pt 1 It's May 13th. Should have been writing on the road because now it's a complete blur. But I'll try now anyway. Last night we played our last show in NY, and today I slept all day, and now it is 1am, and I'm coming down with some kind of cold. I had a dream in the middle of the day today about these guys coming into my apartment and breaking everything and stealing from us under the auspices of a landlord ordered repair, then finding out the landlord in the dream had no idea who they were. Then this afternoon Barrett tells me he had something (albeit slightly less sinister) ACTUALLY happening at his apartment around the same time that I was dreaming it. I mention this as a thematic prelude to the litany of psychedelic interlacings, coincidence, (I'll admit I shy from the term "synchronicity" partially embarrassingly by hipsterish categorization-dodging aesthetic position), but coincidence dense enough to slice through with a knife, the kind of thing very familiar to the touring musician, and the touring musician of the NOISER flavor, probably especially. It is arguably why anyone does it to begin with... The meme E sent me "They want you to get a job so you can't drive around for hours and notice The Pattern" As one might imagine it's difficult to truly get to the heart of "what happened" over the last week or two to reveal the underlying gridwork of our Greater Evil project, as, aside from the slipperiness of memory and always escaping unfathomable Magic of Being There, I must keep certain vital ingredients secret for the sake of, well, at this point in our state, legality, and then interpersonal privacy. I'm no Zahedi, to be sure. And "what happened" is basically what is "always happening", so, you already know. Friday the 2nd before we leave, 5k and I go out to the Rocks to test out our sound schemes on the RLD system. We stop at a Lowes to bathroom and pick up air nozzle for 5k's set. They're playing Peg. Lowes is definitely the Steely home improvement department store. Home Depot, we decide later, is like, George Strait? I don't remember. EBN and I have been plying ableton + controller universe in our respective dungeons for weeks in preparation. Weedwacker started as a midi curiosity last summer, product of a "what if" question about monophonic composition (one control track triggering four voices, then hyper editing the mixing automation to create the arrangement), and a lifelong interest in midi grind (my first music in high school was 45 second blast beat FL Studio piano roll logjams ("I Tripped On My Shoelace and Fell Into Hell" is the only track title I remember, and was remarkably similar to Weedwacker from what I can recall)) This is a thread you can see throughout my music: https://haord.bandcamp.com/track/toad-2 https://www.tinymixtapes.com/chocolate-grinder/listen-jake-tobin-third-and-fourth-thoughts https://trulybald.bandcamp.com/track/snow-over-atlanta (densely composed midi meticulously recreated on real instruments) probably the actual closest ancestor of Weedwacker is the "blind programming" i would do on my QY100 where you step sequence without listening back at all and discover the great joy of hearing it all at once at the end after hours of button pushing: https://trulybald.bandcamp.com/track/the-cardiograph-argument I've never been good at self containing these kinds of ideas and developing them into fully fleshed out universes of their own, opting for the spastic all at once lost dollar bin mixtape of home experiments type approach. But EBN, a being similarly exploding in every direction all at once with too many fantastic ideas and passions for hours in a day, in our many long deep parsings of managing this practice of soul fount tending, suggested leaning into the MONIKER container approach. I fell asleep writing the previous and had a horrible week of illness, conflict, and psychic disturbance. And now it's May 19, 6:17am We went into the basement and watched EBN run through his set in the basement. 5k and I both teared up. I was shaking my head in awe the entire time. Many discreet sections that opened into entire unique sonic realms, all new and fresh to me, impassioned trademark heart crushing EBN emotional outpouring. Controllers and timbale, full frequency spectrum intricacies barreling in and out of the void. EBN gives computer electro acoustic music soul like no other. Complete mayhem and exposed anger trading chapters with fragile, vulnerable, deepest animal inner-infant sorrow. The cries of exiting the womb, truly, channeled through this amazing being. And then we're just standing there in the basement again. We go up and lay in the back yard grass and 5k starts charging up the air compressor and testing out the nozzles and adapters. TBC

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this dream where an old book store owner accuses me of stealing a character from one of his event flyers for our greater evil tour flyer and i curse him out

caught myself some kind of tonsillitis. not in good shape, at all. i simmer the chaga mushroom for hours and drink the tea. i eat the soup. i drink the water. i sleep. i work. i dream of work. i have headache. i take ibuprofen. i work. i sleep. i dream of returning to the ocean from whence i came

up until sunrise four days in a row. getting warmer. i had another out of body experience today while taking a nap. reliably now it seems falling asleep in the late afternoon, or early evening as the sun sets, lying on my back, with the light on, will cause paralysis. this time the pulling / carrying feeling was very palpable. I felt the presence pulling my feet trying to help me out of my body. then i saw him, coming in and out of visibility, pale white made of light, transparent, a guy my age. short hair. funnily enough like a hallmark movie type of generically handsome looking guy. he noticed i could see him and laughed and said "hey man, good to see you". i knew that i knew him but it was my first time seeing him. he flickered, or came in and out like trying to tune a radio, and then faded. i was unable to remain in the right frequency to leave with him. more practice.

today i had an out of body experience while taking a nap. i was pacing around in a strange apartment wondering why i felt so confused. realized i was dreaming and laid down on a couch. i was then back in my own apartment in sleep paralysis. i "sat up" out of my body. it was completely dark, so i focused on seeing. the room appeared in a blue black monochromatic x-ray vision. i floated up and away from my body, carried seemingly by something else. in the next room over there were many plants, a place i did not recognize. a huge dining table. i felt that my physical head was turned to the side in a way that was preventing my projected body from turning my head to the right without waking up. i think that is what im coming to recognize as a kind of embodied fear.

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Too much, and so deeply, reigned over my life since January, in cosmic enough scale that temporal and emotional regularity in writing about any of it, let alone in public (some even dealing with interpersonal exchanges precipitated by since redacted overshares on this very website), that writing occurred to me in only fleeting "should" type headspaces, which for me, "shoulds" always get psychologically back-burnered. These things so myriad, twisted, and inward-pointing that emotional regularity felt apt a tonicity to pursue in my day to day, regardless how unattainable or ill-fated a pursuit that may have been. So I haven't written. Or I have but it's been letters, text messages, emails, dreams. going to be returning as i finish this painting that has taken over my life. i have felt like im working something out on the surface, and that when it is done, i will know the answer.

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• unstretch and roll paintings • collect and stash paper works • pick up tv front plate • make works with new hdmi • finish room render / anim • can i get dynamite man from EBN? • print room render • REMEMBER RENDER FARM? • find that and get animation rendering there • marathon the work task (tuesday) • print all of the foreman .docs • LAUNDRY • pack - QY100 - batteries for QY - sopranino sax - new shirt - lafferty - cushioned container for tv - running shoe - empty notebook - foreman docs - SD CARD!!!!

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along the same lines of language as control system though maybe i should opt out of reading anything about it until i have my own ideas.

The varieties of Inner Speech worth pursuing. Foundations for a phenomenal taxonomy Giacomo Romano https://www.rifp.it/ojs/index.php/rifp/article/view/rifp.2024.0010/1342 ******** ‘How do I know what I think till I see what I say?’ An aphorism and its implications for creative theorizing https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/1600910X.2019.1630846#:~:text=ABSTRACT,a%20suggestive%20quality%20to%20it. ******** How can I tell how I think till I see what I say? https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1053810008000809?via%3Dihub ******** The phenomena of inner experience https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1053810008000032 ******** Unsymbolized thinking is a clearly defined phenomenon: A reply to Persaud https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1053810008001190 ******** Use of concurrent and retrospective verbal protocols to investigate workers' thoughts during a manual-handling task https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/16759629/ ******** ooooo here's something good: Unpriming: the deactivation of thoughts through expression https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/17144761/ ******** Thinking aloud is not a form of introspection but a qualitatively different methodology: reply to Schooler (2011) https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21355633/ ******** ** bonus points for "precis" as in lafferty's ktistec machine: Précis of The rational imagination: how people create alternatives to reality https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/18321404/ ******** Do procedures for verbal reporting of thinking have to be reactive? A meta-analysis and recommendations for best reporting methods https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21090887/ ******* Know yourself and you shall know the other... to a certain extent: multiple paths of influence of self-reflection on mindreading https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/18394921/

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i was in the tub just now staring at the tap making the world disintegrate before going to bed and i remembered during the snow walk today looking for pre linguistic thought in my head like where the ideas are converted into words. it's so automatic desiring not to lean on words to articulate to myself. would like to find the location, or the interface where this happens without going completely insane just thinking in language is writing in the sense of converting *something* into language even if you're the only one 'reading'. and language is all polluted. this whole thing comes up for me once a year or so. always think of that "Toward a Universal Illiteracy" svenonious book too. ideas before language, when i try and sense them in some way, it's like they are not there at all, are diaphanous, even vaporous, plasmic, maybe like the goo a caterpillar turns into inside the chrysalis, like all the microscopic bits of it containing a hidden memory address while getting all swirled around and reconfigured even if the thinking requires some language as like, railroad ties, generating best guesses like some LLM, it's still matching it against *something* underneath yeah? im always going back to this - but in Hands of the Living God, Milner recounts her clients story of working on a bust relief in clay, at some institution where her schizoaffection is being "treated" (this is in the 50s or 60s i think?), and the doctors elect to try electroshock. upon undergoing the treatment, she finds that that *something* against which she would measure the accuracy of the clay bust she had been working on was gone. she described it as a perfect circle that was no longer perfect, and so she could no longer work on the art. anyway. dreams arent words.. lisa said something the other week about talking in dreams, we were talking about not knowing what language it's in. there are no words, only impressions of ideas

boring post im in work tunnel should probably shut down before i get sick or something. spent all yester day modeling the panoramic blender room installation model for shelf backdrop, while waiting for 3d print, fails, wait for another. caro and B at Cs studio, fire. today plane tickets, arranging places to stay, adjusting and 3d printing tv model, re adjusting Tv model, discovering my the hdmi and power connections dont fit right, need to find different adapters and cables that are small and correct shape, • find more compact adapters pack painting, carry walking to ups store, price for shipping jeopardy painting too high, figure out cheaper option, • need to unstretch paintings and make sure they fit in tube to carry-on go home, rest for a sec, there's major snow, model all of render panorama for shelf backdrop, bike to c studio to pick up model again, tv screen orientation is upside down, will have to rerender animation upside down? should test media player also plays upside down, write the piece list for show to send to britttni for writeup re adjust model, send for printing again, need to do day job all night to catch up. need to also finish room render so i can make sure i have enough ink in photo printer

it's ridiculous - i put an apple with one bite out of it on the window sill in the painting about not wanting to be a super hero. if not ridiculous, downright catholic, biblical even. and not even noticing until i finished the painting, one year later, today.

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sorry for the low vibrational garbage. peace and love for real have you ever very intently left your eyes unmoving focused on one small spot until everything turns a luminescent chimerically black-red and you begin to drift into the abyss that lies behind the physical world

like, some might consider that the on-the-nose decontextualization and slapstick flattening of subject matter via suggested underlying meaning where there "is none" - that this as represented in ASSEMBLY obviously desires (while also excitedly pointing at and validating intuitive accident) to poke fun at the premise of AI and the techno-savior-complexed megalomaniacs, with their politically unfulfillable hand waving excuses about automation -> UBI -> prosperity, for the absurdity and obviously money-grabbing feint of utopian speculations and then consider that a few key moments of the text in that book are formatted and generated by "AI" with very careful and iterated prompting? particularly the fixed width text table on the back. it took me probably more time and work to make that with AI than it would have if i did it manually and it didnt even do it right, but i preferred its shortcomings to mine is this so difficult to fathom

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might delete later but why are people so insane about artists using AI. if this is a problem for u im sorry but ive got some really bad news for you about maintaining a legible performance of coherent personal politics within the theater of a crumbling empire. u gonna be doing gymnastics soon if u already arent

woke up without dread for the first time in a while. something seems easy. maybe it's all my prayer. put out work fires for some hours. then visit C and get 3d print iteration. then getting home and fix the model and send back for more print. and then talking to alexis on facetime about can i check this huge painting on a flight if i roll it up. then trying to figure out my dates for california. asking harry brittni. talking to nina about stretcher bar measurements and what i call "field hockey problems" which have to do with things i dont talk about here. then i have meetings about data structures. and now i realize i havent eaten today because i have not stopped going. so im going to go on a walk and find something to nourish myself with. and then im going to paint on the neo matrix window painting, there are some things that need to change about it. there are empty spaces and im better at brushwork now it will bother me if these areas that are on it are too flat, it feels inconsistent. differences in attention across a paintings surface, not necessarily detail but attention and intention, bother me, like is this area flat for a reason, even if that reason is it just feels right? i guess i just mean there are things that dont feel right about it and thats as far as im willing to intellectualize it right now. very caffeinated and very hungry seeya

para-celebri-social symbiotomat bodily narrative centrifuge did not intend to be wrestling the riso to get illustrations done but here i am. completed one. not sure if i completely missed the mark. guess we'll see. couldnt fall asleep so made this illustration. interesting to revisit AARONET assembly visual language. i decided to do no drawing for these, i dont have the time. just print collage. i did though model a whole tunnel of displays along a conveyor type thing in blender for it. only took a few hours. good excuse to use blender. not sure why i didnt do more 3d modeling for assembly pages..

i finally fell asleep around 9 but had to wake up at 12 for work. i did meetings and then went rock climbing. i got home and had more meetings. i am being tasked with some very confusing data structure problems i just want to paint, like i say every time i write here. i finally have a second tonight but im exhausted and i also have to do these illustrations for MUBI commission. I should write this down before I get in the bath right now and forget what i came up with on my bike ride home. oh i thought to rip a line from me and dominika's moves on tightrope poem: SYMBIOSIS WITH THE STARS LOW-G HIGH-BIPRODUCT and then like: BODILY NARRATIVE CENTRIFUGE and like DISBELIEF SUSPENSION as physical springs and there's a figure eight tube in the pattern of 369 infinity triangles where the body is sent through, a tube of screens, in order to achieve a totalizing immersion. taking bath with RA Lafferty and then i will work on this illustration in bed and try and make up for my two hours of sleep.

today (yesterday) i took a bath. it was sunday but i worked for 10 hours straight so that i could make rent. i sucked up fruit flies with the vacuum cleaner. i ate leftover thai food. i did a lot of math on my calculator, thinking about base 10 numbers. thinking about how numbers bigger than 9 dont have unique names, but combinatorial notations. not sure how that never occurred to me before. i was thinking about the beauty of how this system makes all multiples of 9 add up to 9, because of the notation and base 10 systems. (18 = 1 + 8 = 9 etc) and then thinking about other emergent patterns because of the same property. like any number whose digits add up to 17, when divided by 9 will trail with .8888888888, or 17*2, 34, number with digits that add up to 34 and divided by 9 will trail with .7777777, etc and so on. i find this quite pretty. anyway i prayed three times with my water again and spent a long time writing a letter, an apology, to someone that i am not sure if how or when i will send. and now I've stayed up all night alternately reading RA Lafferty and insomniating and then going on the calculator, and now giving up and putting some more work on this website. it's nearly 8 am. now i will try to sleep. i will wake up and do my day job. i will go rock climbing. i wish i could just work on the football painting. thursday is the fievel show. i have to finish the 3d printed TV. the print keeps failing. Christopher is helping me so much. i just killed another fruit fly.

last night was z's birthday, fievel all in town, eating cake with a hammer, and our meeting with the diplomat. dreams still filled with e. last night though filled with ufos. they were everywhere. they were of many different shapes. they were like they always are in my dreams, sort of plastic empty things with multi colored lights. they zip around the power lines. they fly in formations. like a sudden coming they are ubiquitous and undeniable. they are empty chambers with volumetric displays showing models of beings they came from. and i have lucid dreams again spontaneously. a breakthrough in the painting comes after realizing i can only do exactly what will get paint onto the canvas. i have been over-engineering, blocking my own way, listening to others instead of myself. what this means is completing small squares across the canvas, quilting the image again, seeking both the vividness of eye centered focus and the accidental misaligned patchwork totality. it gets me to paint because there are satisfying chapters to calm my impatience, and much to be left to discovery. at the noise show on lexington i spoke to Maralie who mentioned in support of this approach a Lynch class she saw where he talks of working from 17 index cards, each a scene, each a way in to doing.

All On Our Own Sue Me if I Play Too Long One of These Days This Brother Is Free

short term todo: • try sketch motocross painting less wide, see how proportion feels • sketch factory floor • model game day football fields • prep more canvases 😮‍💨 quarters: • get Brittni materials for write up • order screen for mini tv • design tv model for 3d print • ballpoint flyer • touch up paintings (would so much rather make new ones...) i went to the google offices today. had lunch. I have too many ideas and not enough time. Painting by itself could fill many lifetimes. And it does. There are many painters. Slowly learning how to do things incrementally. A little at a time. So that I can do them all. But one completed painting is worth ten in the bush. On the way to buy six more yards of duck 12 canvas i daydreamed of these film ideas. eventually. it was the light. this sensation of being spoken to today i feel i am being told to write some things down so here i am. the euphoria of getting over a cold. and the weather is warm. finishing a novel listening to offramp again drinking tea, starting more canvases. inspired much thinking about Lynch the last day. it is best not to know why but to chase the feeling

https://substack.com/home/post/p-154657563 i have a cold now. i went out into the cold too much. i will next publish a sequence of photos of the freestyle painting. it will likely not be evident where it is going, but it is going there 10 days or something since i started stretching? and ive just got a blurry mess on my wall. oil painting can be a cold war if you like me carry the unfortunate curse of having an engineer's proclivities infinite football games, is next painting to start

i go to the gym now. im waking up at 7 every day and eating raw vegetables and honey. my skin feels like it's vibrating. i hope i get sleep paralysis. i have 4 paintings going. i'm not sure if they are good but i dont care. i even have a cold. i still want to ball point. i still want to do configurations. but priority is paint. there should be some time every day where i make something very fast. the kinds of images im interested in making with oil paint are very different in my imagination from the images i want to make with ballpoint. to me. probably not actually. but they are less interested in idea. using a pen to render, it makes you feel like you're writing, and so it gets more linguistic in its imagery, i think. im more interested in color and raw beauty of object with paint. having several paintings going at once keeps me from feeling afraid in any of them individually. i have been having all of these ideas about how i want to paint but havent been actually doing it, so basically these inclinations are useless. so i am about to start, right now. i have been listening to pat metheny's offramp a lot. so good

all i can remember for now: the brutalist (2025) nothing to say. saw in theater agnes martin: with my back to the world hard truths (2025) bless you mike leigh naked (1993) i could see how this rocked back then but i dont have space for proto reddit man naked souls (1996) pamela anderson is a nude bust sculptor and her physiognomically mismatched boyfriend is an amateur soul scientist figuring out after death memory transfer? almost a gem, but thwarted by sucking horribly. seems like i have a lot to say about it cache (2005) a fine wine. looks down its nose with honor at all our indecent american class war movies. slaps bobo face good the piano teacher finally watched. all i could think about was how green it was. and how it wasnt as disturbing as people have always made it out to be. loved it the princess switch (2018) venessa hudgens does nutty professor double acting, and improbably (spoiler...) becomes royalty of a delightfully invented foreign country. there's a trilogy in which she ups the ante to three characters anatomy of a fall anora (2025) nosferatu (2025) - severely disappointed theater of thought (2025) shouldnt have billed this as a doc abt consciousness, or even thought. it's middling information about brain tech. i laughed though. mostly at bryan johnson appearing. same level of enjoyment id get out of a discovery special in high school, or a pixar movie. would rather watch youtube. or read the favourite second watch. so claustrophobic! feather christmas just purely bad the art of christmas worth peeping for a sec just to see this one actor playing a gallerist that looks just like a swollen voldemort many youtube videos about war in ukraine (drones , tanks , trenches , etc) can only give this no thumbs many youtube videos about pin ball machines

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richard dadd

millais

alan beeton

love to my friends in los angeles. still doing ball point, but starting to stretch big canvases. i do not know what will go on them. feeling soberly fortunate. maybe sort of dazed dream the other day of a long downward spiral slide made of inflated carpet bag, maybe 20 feet wide, many people, each holding onto the feet of the one above, in human chains like that, several wide, no one sliding down because there were inlets all the way down. this was in a hotel that was hosting the "Tallahassee Sex Expo". the designer of the slide was jumping up and down "it's not working!"

i had died or been transported to another planet, where there was a small group of people in a stronghold against some kind of zombie type enemy. there were enough of them there for long enough that they had binders with their lineages in them. there was a color code for age that stopped at 40, because no one made it that far. they spent their days training. they had crafted a dummy ammunition in order to practice without wasting real rounds. it was made of inch long pieces of bamboo-like grainy spring wood. we dug up a back yard, there was cash all throughout the dirt. there were also plastic toys, like trucks, half disintegrated. there was a neighbor watching while we dug, over the fence. a crusted over visage. he tended to his store of lamp oil, he stood near a vent to it while he spoke. when we were done talking he flattened into a texture like a flattened crumpled foil and disposed of himself into the vent, presumably to submerge himself into the oil in the basement. i also sculpted my fathers bust out of clay. then we were on a beach for some kind of record label party? ha!

Skye

spent the night with F and G and bm sketched out a really fucked ball point pen drawing today. wondering now the month and day S died. next a picture of them in my car in 2016 in asheville, on the day before my birthday. we were there to celebrate a 3 or 4x birthday with M and AL and JP and D at that house near the highway. it was the same trip on which we took the picture for the cover of accidentally on purpose, on max patch. years later, in the middle of the night, the moment they died, i woke up and was intensely sick. i didn't find out what happened until a friend called in the morning and told me they were in an accident, and i understood why i was awoken.

--- REDACTED --- "ONLINE" WEDNESDAYS AND SATURDAYS all the things im saying are true too, but only sometimes. --- REDACTED --- guestbook user "jack crongus" says "suffering is eternal" (sorry your mp4 didnt work) yeah ive read a lot about that, im not so sure. my feeling today: as far as we allow our infinite capacity for creating it for ourselves. --- REDACTED --- i have the definite sense ive done this all many times before im doing it this time, and always will.

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--- REDACTED --- generally i think i need to lighten up. --- REDACTED --- i'm not doing a good job making my point. happy new year ❤️

attention = prayer. art is sacred when it's full of sacrifice of attention and time

i am still religiously consumed with drawing with ball point pen. i had intended to start painting again but there's something pure happening.

obsessed with elie's album https://tandy.bandcamp.com/album/change-ringing-in-america

dear reader, thank you for requesting back the admin log. ---------------------------------- NOTE Jan 3, 2025: things are far more complex than i formerly portrayed them here in a very long and reductive screed about social media. i have decided to reel it back, i dont need to be fighting this battle. like all good anger, it reveals more about me than anything else. ---------------------------------- 1,124 WORDS REDACTED ---------------------------------- what paver knows who will walk on the stones?

https://forums.atariage.com/topic/352156-looking-for-help-on-tms5220-circuit-software-design-and-usage/ https://www.unige.ch/medecine/nouspikel/ti99/speech.htm

doing reduced input again as i prepare for christmas alone in new york. living for better dreams. it is raining. christmas party. bella and nell sang silent night for us. we all sang the national anthem. thumbnailing dream paintings. continued ball point penning. TODO: write about interface. wednesday: visit with QG

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dreams about being a double agent in nazi germany. very very realistic. forced to torture fellow spy to prevent revealing. dream of taylor swift, talking to her over a tall wooden picket fence, she's asking for demo cd. dream of _______ attempting to recount life story but midway being so emotionally overwhelmed with a childhood era that he has a nervous breakdown, speaking to himself and going into another mind dimension. im making pasta. i go to comfort him. he starts to come back to reality and lays on the floor face down. i forgive him. he puts on a jacket and leaves to go on a walk. i am in northern maine in the summer time. looks like dmt. everything breathing. i have big chrome ball bearings in my hair. i clean an outdoor bathroom. i get ready to swim in a crystalline lake. i am to play guitar as a substitute in a punk band with Columbia SC no wave people in a pavilion. we have no time to learn the set. i approximate the changes. the guitar chronically detunes.

i went to several stores looking for bic cristal pens. i gave up and by my house i see this dumpster that says BIC 1361. after having some coffee at home i decide to go out looking again. i find them at a walgreens. the address of the walgreens is 1366, and they have five packs of bics left.

i went to several stores looking for bic cristal pens. i gave up and by my house i see this dumpster that says BIC 1361. after having some coffee at home i decide to go out looking again. i find them at a walgreens. the address of the walgreens is 1366, and they have five packs of bics left.

insomnia but perhaps a download, some thought form that's something like: many people cling so dearly to the belief that it is possible know what wide swaths of a population think, and sum up their political opinions collectively in a sentence. this is a delusion given to us by disseminated media. see: imagined communities and further that any given individual's constellation of opinions should largely make up a coherent system that falls in line with larger political "movements" "parties" or "projects". the inevitable lack of total coherence is often the first subject of ridicule. these movements, parties, projects (read: dominant classes), control by manipulating as a source of truth a definition of political coherence in the disseminated media another primary fixation is to present ones political affiliations and publicly pay fealty to your dominant paradigm by way of repeating its messaging and tending to (policing) its defined borders these ways of engaging in politics, in normal discourse, limit us in seeking a larger view of the nature of beliefs and opinions themselves. They way they behave like a slime mold, reactive to their environment, to invisible sunlight, an un-feel-able humidity. maybe its just that I have this impression that the message ive always received, that many do, is about the false binary of coherence and incoherence. my computer is about to die and i dont want to keep it on today. maybe i'll come back to this later

the chip fried c's headphones

BUG HOTEL! i saw a bug hotel when i was running in the morning. all i think about now is bug hotel. it's 4am i cant sleep. do bugs know? how big? em and i have many questions about the bug hotel. i am going to draw the bug hotel. all day worked and found a big refactor. talked to HGHIV + B on facetime for long time. ancestral communications. daily practice facilitates collaboration w the others cleaned studio and rearranged. em and jo came by. jo brought sri lankan food from staten island. showed us that conservative painter, left keys for gallery. posted some junk on ig in ten second intervals. asking "what does this mean to you", a picture of a page from assembly. it's interesting it probably looks like im on there all day but i totaled probably 10 minutes. bug hotel. thinking about the bug hotel and ADULTING, a hypothetical art show in los angeles to follow up BABY STUFF. one foot tall replica of roadrunner drone with a mini palmer lucky? sunset painting made up of text from crowley? bug hotel drawing with fiber optics? pachinko machine?

dream: was a supercross race (indoor). brother was lining up at the gates. he noticed there was a switch on his gate that would have prevented it from falling. me and my father were having some beers. i had been in a box with two ladies. there was a silicon goop mud bath in the floor, it had no frame, it just started. once the race started my brother was disappointed to find out it was no longer a supercross race but a video game where you race your ship through a doom-like labyrinth. i got upset that this is what counted for motocross these days. nothing is sacred. when i woke up the switch seemed easy from where i was. enlarge awareness into room. do not unfocus eyes. look outwards, until you see.

i am still not well. it is cold. it feels good to wire things. but i need to draw again. be dumb

c got this text to voice synth chip. seems right for ball game. was thinking through how to trigger the many sounds on it with few inputs. could very easily have an mp3 player module but this is more fun, the sounds are shredded lo res. i got multi channel midi going on the CP ln also. we listened to all the hits through the midi interpreter.

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what i am doing here is providing more information to increase the knot work

stuck in head on waking: loretta lynn coal miners daughter

remembered the added benefit of going home is that the room i stay in is haunted and last year i barely slept for several days, watching shadows move. anyway, all fogged up, today, now. friends in atl attacked at the neighborhood sports bar by some kind of racist jug head, during a diy show. im not sure what this accomplishes in the face of things like that. if i came across this page i certainly wouldnt read it. i'd probably skim around and think i should go on a walk. not to make it about me. though i am here writing on my website in my public journal all this damn tinkering pulling like frank caught by cenobyte chains. meanwhile money. is that the thing about painting? it's just painting. downright religious in its commitment, monastic in its solitarily submitted fealty. didnt i say something about high vibrational state for a month? i think what i had in mind was long short term memory. longer strings it's a daily recommitment. during the holidays? yesterday i did spend all day cleaning. like scrubbing things with bleach type cleaning. today's a freebie. there was a dream last night. car stolen from the parking lot of an indian restaurant in tallahasse. i was right that coffee upstairs would have me drink it without eating in the morning and then going insane. many emails and messages today, phone calls, two cups of that coffee, distracted, made my head spin. confused. meant to mail. invoiced? packaged books for CW. looked at the books and considered what's best. thought. didn't eat. should go to manhattan. committed to gallery sit rumplestiltskin saturday. i should walk there. going to walk there. saturday last night: added many nails to game. the princess switch w E. back into daily drawing? ymca? priority right now should be the strength of shoulders or something like that. ugh. blah. . going to do a bunch of push ups and buy groceries.

i thought of doing a piece with the volt sensitive glass that goes opaque with a charge, and there'd be a card reader off to the side where you can pay for 30 second viewing increments where the glass goes clear. there's a camera on it that watches your body position and makes you put your hands out and recognizes if you are trying to take a picture of it. if you are it will hide again. the scroll saw came yesterday as you can see, and excitement over the sudden expansion of possibilities has me making a huge mess. thought it was a good idea to do this in my bed room? my back is all fucked up because i keep working on the floor like a baby. my house is a disaster zone there's wood shavings everywhere. immediacy driving me to fatal ends. last night started messing with embedding 20x4 character screen in raised panel. i was learning the saw so things were lopsided but i leaned into it out of curiosity / necessity and actually fond of the softened edge. thinking about painting it then doing resin clear coat as way of making extra glossy. i think i text f too much. i watched many solenoid / relay videos last night daydreaming of my machines. soon, as intended, the tools will become a given, and the ideas will begin to speak. for now i throw everything against the wall. cook out drive through menus. atm machines. today i built a rough bagatelle/pachinko prototype in hopes that it will spark up c and i efforts. deeply, deeply inspiring to make this thing. i spent 2 hours at home depot pacing around thinking about how to make it work. the underpainting is not what it will be, but it was a fun back drop, it's one of my first attempts at using acrylic paint. it's hausner gradients. particular highlights are how the arch across the top works. it's a leftover embroidery hoop i had picked up to make more excess correlation devices. on the right side i sanded it into a point and then sawed a notch out of the edge so it sits there, then on the left placed a nail and notched the wood. the tension from it wanting to contract back into a circle holds it in place. the spring needs to be softer, but that was all i could find for now. the plunger handle needs to be a soft rubber grip. was able to make bouncers out of rubber band super glued to brass stand offs and wrapped around. super glue and rubber turns out, insane combination. melts together immediately. very handy. need to decide are the balls going to land in little cups / cubbies of nails, or fall through into a capture chamber. i need to "nail down" the physics, see where things land, then figure out the under painting. also need a looser spring, narrower launch channel. thought about embedding that motor i have into the center so as you launch there's a slowly spinning landscape change happening. em stopped by after work to eat our pot roast and walked on my back to help my back because of my child behavior.

notes

notes

notes

i was with person A in a hotel, an office worker i was in a relationship with. person b, a stranger, kept walking by the window glaring inside walking a small dog. person B finally stops at the window and walks through the wall. very frightened i stumble over my words. she sits down. she reveals she is person A in the future. she instructs me to shift through perspectives about my relationship to person A and see how it effects her (person B) in real time. i see how small shifts in my feelings for person A and our relationship drastically shift the appearance and demeanor of her future self: person B (who feels like a teaching entity that has come to tell me something).

LT was driving me and LC to malibu. LC was falling asleep in the back seat. We had had In+Out. A conversation something about what it means to be special. I asked LC if they were special, as a joke to rouse them. Something they said about stable internal attachment to an unmoving figure, keeps coming up. i wonder if any lurking reader here will ever have the courage to comment. you are anonymous you know, dear reader, and I am not.

last night spent far too late doing save refresh spinning on bone doctor and added a "dig all" option animation, and something like 4000 names to the grave label mix, and birth death years to the labels and a fence around the graveyard, and darkened all the colors. when the tunnel presents itself, always go in. when i woke up i ran. i called em and told her i dont care if i get sick i dont like you being home alone sick it is sad. i worked. i fixed errors. i talked to ____ at work for an hour. we shared grievances. it felt holiday. i received an electric kettle, a soldering upgrade, 30awg wire, brass stand-offs, temporary contact buttons, 6x 20x40 lcd character displays. i bought pot roast materials at the new massive bizarre grocery store "Global Food Market" in our neighborhood. i told MS who told me about it. we laughed about how the fish guy was confused at both of us for being shocked by the fish section. they have black sea bass? piles of them. em got here. we puttered. i talked to my mom on the phone while em bought train tickets home. we talked of the darkness of that, of holiday. i came to some place about giving, and felt much better. we watched: james bond octopussy. ichi the killer. some of Egg (2005). some of perfect lives while she fell asleep. while i wired an RP4020 breakout headers and then to some lcds. turns out the i2c addresses are all the same, makes sense. but theres some pads on the board you can solder together to change the addresses. i wrote a script to scroll through the lyrics of The Fall's English Scheme. There is a great sense of satisfaction arising from beginning to fulfill the flash given to me on the train to the airport in paris on one hour of sleep, of my Lament Configurations.

weird

mostly looking forward to seeing Em. and making a pot roast and watching Rumours and terrible lifetime movies for a few days, painting. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= today i lost my phone in the house again for several hours. when i finally happened across it (i wasn't looking), it was face down and i picked it up and immediately started ringing, E was calling. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= just looked at ig for 15 minutes, mostly checking my dms and then someone sent me a post so i was morbidly ingesting some baked dumb ass art '__________' affiliated account. these people are insane and addicted to feeling in touch with micro discourse. do they not know that they are being used? is it all training of audience the way that universities train artists to interface with the market? do they know you can just make art and not know what everyone is talking about? what are they afraid of? losing relevance? who ever wanted that anyways? art is in spite of relevance, it should not want it. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= anyway so that evidently upset me so =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= earlier i read Weismann's latest on 'Working On My Skateboarding' and that by contrast made me feel quite pleasant and wishing i was in some small new england town instead of this dark circuit board =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= found a small motor in the trash. plugs right into the wall. biked to hardware store. the sky was extremely gothic. it struck me how black early winter can be here, and so early. the traffic was frightening. i wired the motor to a switch and mounted to a 8x10 panel with the driving spindle poking through. not sure where that'll go. satisfied some urge. i spilled mineral water on the wood floor and the bubbling sound was so nice i let it sit there for a while so i could listen to it. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= i will oil paint now before i fall asleep. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

every time i travel or finish a big thing, it's like rebuilding my entire reality out of nothing. i could read this as "in touch with the void" or as "too in touch with material". it is coming back together now, thanks to reduced input. thank you void =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= i think everyone just ignores the type script errors in this one file we all work on. regardless of the products dubious purpose and my own predisposition for wild west behavior, it disturbs me =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "no one lights a lamp to put it under a tub; they put it on the lampstand where it shines for everyone in the house... do not hide the gift that you have received from me, but give it to all who desire it" =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= TODO: 1. finish up score history screen for BD (add scrolling). 2. start painting =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= i am going to make my own cell phone that i carry around in a box like a tool box. it will ring with a bell like a rotary phone. it will have a full keyboard for texting. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

travelled. had to play bass in strange play in a wal mart. Zan was singing. bass was going through pitch shifter. there was a storm. i had flown. then had to drive an suv 20 hours to austin texas. there was a storm. phone kept directing me to the pentagon.

have another work meeting at 420pm. am treated vaguely poorly. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= talk to em. eat the stew. meditate for 2 hours. i see the paintings. i am drawn into questions of "why", and swim past the confusion. i am told to remove my self and then because. i am encouraged to "reduce input". =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= i wake up bubbly and disoriented and call EBN. We talk for two hours while he benches and I stretch a canvas. of the because, as always. we hang up. i eat a sandwich and prime the canvas. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= i order a scroll saw and a bunch of 16x20 character blue lcd screens. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= there came something on the plane home from california, and then of learning of the spellers. the reduction and destruction in language, and the question, what about an art without symbols? i have been deeply in the muck this year. i have sought to wire them up to reveal their lack. but i could just not use them. i see a path in pursuing truth void of symbol or image through commitment to visual attraction. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= i talk to em again. it's 11:17pm now. I look at photos of windows I have taken. I read pseudo macarius. we're planning a pot roast.

done work. made a stew. taking a doze. thinking about oil painting. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

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grasping any fraction of the vast possibilities of reality, my agency within it, and deciding to post on my website

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TODO: start readings collection here: re-upload this https://archive.org/details/project-aquarius-document/page/n61/mode/2up

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= entering vibrating hibernal state for at least one month starting now. looks like running and cold showers and replacing "consumptive" behavior with blankness when alone, ejecting entries here compulsively. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Vic (@) had a baby in an RV it had big floppy eyes like an AI baby a murderer kept jumping up on a balcony chasing me, we had some plan for finishing him NB had photography show, walking down path. the RV was on the side of a highway outside of LA

This morning I was thinking about KRF and T and then they called me to go get coffee. Then I was making a coloring book at lunch time for E because she is sick and for whatever reason I thought to put bi-planes in it. When I brought it to her she was looking at bi-planes and has been thinking about them all day. We talked about curious why everyone is getting into pachinko machines suddenly this year. Tried to use our 3D printer to fabricate my opto-isolator for fiber optic art and it is a bit of a piece of junk that I gave up. I fell asleep on the floor and woke myself up snoring. Then just now I was taking a shower and thought of MS and I got out of the shower and they had texted me, and now I'm going to eat lentils at their house. C is playing at HB, using the note player on card computer i made yesterday. I will stop by later? =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

parts list so far as i can tell

z

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