Author: Larry

I didn’t realize Bob Dylan lived in Malibu.

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/03/how-sweet-is-li.html

I’m not sure exactly why that bothers me. Just don’t seem right. But then I was one of the idiots who felt betrayed when he went electric, about a hundred years ago. Seems inappropriate for an “earthy poet” type like he used to try so hard portray himself as, to want to live out there with all the posing, preening Hollywood assholes. I mean, Tom Waits lives in Forestville, by the Russian River up in the woods of Sonoma County. That makes sense.

But hey, what do I know?

Wow. You sure as hell can’t get these in Roswell.

http://ablogtoread.com/romain-jerome/romain-jerome-moon-dust-dna-the-truth-about-roswell-watch-is-a-mystery-to-me/

I was going to build a raft out of water bottles, really, I was. Now I don’t have to. I figured it would probably occur to somebody else. Sure enough.

This is way better than I was gonna do. I was gonna make the sail out of plastic bags, but I wasn’t gonna sail it to Australia.

Here’s the article. link

A year ago today, Luis Jimenez‘ 32 foot fibreglas mustang sculpture was installed at the Denver International Airport. It had killed him the year before at his studio, an old apple cannery in Hondo Valley, which is just up the road from here. We used to see him at some of the Art Museum events here in Roswell. I ran into him at ABQ once on my way to California to paint a ride. We talked for a minute or two, I gave him a couple of my comics. He was a nice guy. That’s a scary horse. Biggest thing he ever did. And it killed him!

It’s the middle of Winter, which has been marked as, or by, a big, ritualistic, ceremonial, symbolic, dogmatic, enthusiastic, sacred, profane public & private celebration for thousands of years, at least in the cultures that happened to thrive well enough in the northern latitudes, where the middle of the cold part of the year is a big deal, because everybody is depressed in all the cold & dark & they’re getting tired of having to mostly stay indoors in the same place with the same people & everybody is getting on everybody else’s nerves & cabin fever is becoming normal & they all really needed an excuse to get together & get high & acknowledge that thet were half way through the time after which things could quite possibly get much better… or not. One never knew, back then, for thousands of years. Things could always be worse, & sometimes they did so. Sometimes not.

In the tropical latitudes, not so much. Polynesians didn’t really know what winter was, how would they? So they didn’t have this Death & Rebirth thing going on like the Norse Folk. South of the Equator, what? Is there, was there, an ancient midwinter celebration in Tierra Del Fuego? If so, it was not well reported.

Out here the air is so clear, the light is so bright & pure it hurts your eyes. No, really. Less shielding (by rain clouds, smog, whatever) means more bad nuclear radiation from the life-giving Sun is frying yer eyeballs so yer more likely to get cataracts in yer eyes if you stay here too long. I don’t have any sources to cite to back this up, I happened to hear somebody tell me that during a Thanksgiving celebration in Albuquerque & I believe it. It’s so beautiful out here you could go blind looking at it. Nature is cruel. Out here on the Desert (it’s not really a desert out here, it’s a prairie, the Lone Prairie, as in bury me not thereon) life is cheap. It’s traditional.

Another solar revolution goes whistling by. Nothing will ever be the same.

As always.