“God Died in New York City”
I sat on top of the world looking down at thousands of dancing bohemians.
Ego rising to the heavens, as I knew I was better than them.
Like some LSD Diety breaking out of the covers, eyes burning in the silver spectrum.
Understanding a new phase of evolution and existence.
I thought, this is New York City.
These are the people on the blackened prostitute streets searching for their souls they sold to the highest bidder.
Forgetting the womb they came from and feeling euphoric alleviation from their trepid fate.
Searching for what they lost in an entheogen seizure,
without consciousness
God died in New York City.
-December 7, 2009
The Shark (why it is scary for more then one reason)
Yes, these little monsters are fun. But, really…a twinkey? Yep, that little falic body is none other then the only food to survive a nuclear holocaust. However, the actual cake is 100% organic and my ultimate favorite/famous cupcake recipe. These look scarier then the book “Hello, Cupcake!” (http://www.hellocupcakebook.com) but I like these little Selachimorphas better. 
Chelsea Hotel
I thought of you at 6:30 in the morning.
Caught me by surprise, when I looked up at the Chelsea Hotel.
Misty fog, gently stroking my skin, a spirits hand cooling warm flesh.
Black and white cat laying contently on the cement, enjoying the peaceful surrenity of a New York City morning.
Looking into the windows I thought of us drinking good whiskey in our underwear.
Ice taping the crystal glass, sweet bourbon intoxicating the carpet as it rolls over the brim.
Us making love to the sounds of wispering ghosts.
Hearing the simple song of history past;
“You were talking so brave so sweet,
giving me head on the unmade bed,
while the limousines wait in the street.”
Ranting awful poetry at the top of our lungs, draped in bed sheets and lust;
‘Hear me God! Hear me as I Come!’
Toasting the American Romantics, we laughed and pretended to be something great.
(Quotation:
CHELSEA HOTEL NO. 2 Lyrics
Artist:Leonard Cohen)
I was asked to bring something of myself to the forefront of my mind.
Battling threw the dense merk of Id.
Straight to the howling hell of Ego.
“Space is the breath of art…” Frank Lloyd Wright
I have been thinking about space, land, earth, matter, art and beauty. Accordingly, the ideas of “matter,” anything with volume and mass has molecular structure. These molecules are alive and spinning, creating energy. So if Everything including space has “energy,” then why do we treat most matter as “dead space?” How can we create objects that work with space, energy, beauty, and matter that are not destructive but symbiotic?
Lines and Space

http://www.wunderground.com/wximage/viewsingleimage.html?mode=singleimage&handle=FT2&number=27





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