Friday, January 24, 2014

Desert Storms

 Excited to have this track on a series of nine split tapes with 18 different artist on a Life Like release called FITS.  Song was recorded live on a 1 track zoom recorder near Clover Valley, Minnesota.

Desert Jams from valley of fire state park in preparation for the new zine and tape "desert fungi" and "desert lung", respectively.   Crazy living in the desert.

Really excited about crypto biotic  soil of the desert and the desert inky caps. The 'dirt' in this photo is not dirt but are the spores of the desert inky cap. They stain hands black with powdered spores. The vegas air and dust infect the lungs and coat them with spores, or maybe not. Mojave life.

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Dry Bones

have not been updating the blog lately. might start using it as a photo documentation / video place / multi-media type the. LAKE MEADIA. Yes, here in the desert we have lake mead and it is very dry and sad lately.  60 ft. lower than usual.

went to go see the hoover dam it was fun but sad - for several of the generators powed by the dam can not run since the water is so low.  cool place indeed though. there are things called sink holes there that are insane.

LAKE MEAD (lake media) was sure beautiful this night.  these photos were taken the last full moon of 2013 on the edge of the Valley of Fire in Nevada.
Beautiful and Dry as a Bone.
here in the desert the drought is expansive and no joke. recently heard california is in the largest drought in + 100 years.

Friday, December 6, 2013

desert / desereted

I randomly flipped to this poem about a week ago in Sylvia Plath's "The Collected Works" and then my friend Bee sent it to me so I took it as a sign to post it here. 


Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we are
Tables, We are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door.

                 13 November 1959

                 Sylvia Plath

I'm living in the desert now, and its actually cold.  There is not much in the way of Mushrooms but there is cryptobiotic soil everywhere which rules.  Fungal vol. 3 will be focusing on DESERT FUNGI and will be published once I get acquainted with the place.