Thursday, July 24, 2014
Barbara would throw an item, say, a simple cylinder.
My task was to make many, exact copies.
I rather balked at this, I did not see myself as some sort of industrial machine! I was an ARTIST!
So this was my introduction to zen. I would do a full day's work, then, after everyone else had gone home, I would start my practice. And after a couple of hours she would come back into the pottery, and chuck all my work into the clay bin. Day after day, week after week. until, one night, she only threw about fifty cylinders out, and left three on the table. She sliced them in two, so we could see the thickness of the walls and base. "Those aren't too bad... make another twenty, and I'll come back"
...The breakthrough came on a day when I stopped thinking about what I was doing, and my conscious brain let go of the motor skills. When I came back to consciousness, there they were, lively shapes, not lumpen, but turning still."
My friend Soubriquet, on his introduction to Pottery.
Posted by Bulletholes at 8:33 PM
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
"“If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.
There is no fixed path to enlightenment. Enlightenment is not a destination, a goal, the resting place at the end of a long journey -that’s the mind’s version of enlightenment. Enlightenment is the lighting up of where you are right now…
Take any moment. Any moment at all. This moment. For any moment is the access point.
There are never any blocks - only access points. You are not some separate entity on a long journey towards a future completion.
You are pure poetry.”
~ Joseph Campbell
Posted by bulletholes at 7:42 AM
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Back in 1997 I was out in my driveway washing the car one morning. My wife had left me, the house was being foreclosed on, we had filed bankruptcy and I wasn’t working. I had no plan, no visible means of support, no prospects.
As I’m washing the car, I see a figure a block away, jogging down the street towards me. I can’t see his face, just his size, shape and the way he runs, and there is something familiar about this dude. The closer he gets, the more I am sure that it is an old friend of mine from High School.
Sure enough, as he approaches I can see his face,and its exactly who I thought it was. He see's me now, and there is that moment of recognition, and he stops for a chat.
We exchange the usual stuff, what have you been doing, how are you, etcetera. We hadn’t seen each other in about 20 years. I tell him the particulars of my situation, the separation, the foreclosure, the bankruptcy. He tells me that he has quit using dope, and found a new way to live.
“It had gotten pretty bad, man” he tells me.
He has about 6 months clean. He has been attending Narcotics Anonymous meetings regularly to stay clean.
“You should come!” he says. He looks me in the eye, then up and down. He can tell I’m using. I have that vacuous look in my eye, I’m fidgeting like crazy and slurring my speech. I have all the symptoms and affectations that come with being a dope fiend. Because even though I wouldn’t admit it, I AM a dope fiend.
“You should come to a meeting” he says again “”We meet at 6 O’Clock up on Brown Trail. You never have to do any dope again Steve.”
I remember looking at him like he was nuts, and saying: “Aw man, stop doing dope? You got to be kidding me. Man, I’m going through a divorce, a separation, a bankruptcy and a foreclosure. I have no job. I have too much bad shit going on here to even think about not doing any dope. Maybe when I get all this other crap settled, I can think about getting clean.”
“Ok dude, whatever” he said, and off down the street he jogged his clean no dope black ass away.
It would be another 11 years before I got clean. I would go from divorce foreclosure and bankruptcy to living in a burned out trailer and giving up entirely. And it would take the State of Texas stepping into my life 6 years ago today to get me to a meeting, and to accept what he told me that day in 1997. “Any addict can stop using, lose the desire to use, and find a new way to live.”
Funny, it was 17 years ago I saw him that day on the street.
I still see him regular, down at the group.
A friend sent me a message this morning, “Happy Six Years Birthday” she said.
Us dope addicts, we have two birthdays, one is the belly button birthday, and the other is when we get clean and get to start our life up again.
I’d forgotten all about it. I take that as a good sign, maybe.
Happy birthday to me!
Posted by bulletholes at 8:25 AM
Friday, July 18, 2014
“Maybe you have something that would be funny?” I asked him.
He raised one eyebrow.
“Funny? You want something funny?” and without even looking, reached up on the shelf behind him, pulled down a movie and looked at the cover.
“Gazongas. This ones called Gazongas, haha. Is that funny enough for you, Funny Boy?”
Posted by bulletholes at 6:02 AM
Thursday, July 10, 2014
We spent many an afternoon in the woods and fields alongside the neighborhood hunting birds with bows and arrows, and collecting snakes and frogs along the creek.
Bambi, she was the worlds greatest Tomboy, and she was my best friend for at least a couple years.
But I found her dad, and after a year of thinking about it I finally gave him a call.
I introduced myself again, he would know who I was, and I left my phone number.
I was surprised to find that he returned my phone call so quick, and I didn’t get to answer it, it had gone straight to message.
At least I hoped it wasn’t serious.
We talked for an hour, it was like we’d just been down in the creek yesterday, or were about to throw the football a little, just like the old days.
See… Bambi isn’t Bambi any more.
Bambi is a man now, and his name is Roger.
I really do have to get a hearing aid.
So, when I find out that Bambi is really Roger its no surprise.
And I promised Roger to keep his anonymity, but the story needs telling.
People would be about as surprised to find that Bambi is a man as they were to find out Bulletholes is an addict.
Posted by Bulletholes at 6:19 PM
Wednesday, July 02, 2014
"I'm Al Alberts from the A.M.A., I say
Silicone implants are A-OKAY
They make small breast disease go away
And besides they're endorsed by the E.P.A
Hey, Ed Edwards from the E.P.A
Silicone implants are A-OKAY
It's true those things will never decay
But there will be a cure for death soon
I'm sure anyway
For Triple A
Silicone implants Hey!Hey!Hey!
The cost of your auto, it will be defrayed
They're like personal internal airbags, okay?
That's my brother!
Gentlemen please, the facts remain
There are thousands of implanted women in pain
Address the issues, please explain
Lest our dialogue be in vain
Okay, it's true, the silicone slips
So it works its way down: voluptuous hips!
Still a problem? Button your lips
We'll cut it out and make computer chips
Yeah, well, it's weird but true,
The tiny little things are made of silicone too
So is glass and surgical glue
Put it inside for a womb with a view
Wait A Minute this is all too confusing
Silicone in everything, everything is oozing
Computers attractive to nursing babies
And breasts with an IQ of 3080"
from "Primordial Ooze III by Jonas Billy
Posted by bulletholes at 10:27 AM
Friday, June 27, 2014
“What are doing bursting into my house?’ she demands
“JoJo been fucking my wife here!” and he jostles the slut around by the hair a little, and waves the gun some more.
“GUN? WHAT GUN?”
Which has been a lot lately because here in Texas we have a bunch of Open Carry gun nuts going around with rifles slung over their shoulders.
Posted by bulletholes at 1:09 PM
Friday, June 20, 2014
My rent went up 36 bucks a month. They want me to sign a new lease.
I resisted the urge to do what I usually do and go down to the office to raise hell and start asking in a whiny voice what they are going to do with my 36 bucks a month.
"We're replacing the roof" they will say.
"But my apartment already came with a roof didn't it? I've had a roof all along." I will tell them.
"Its a cost of living increase" they will say.
"Cost of living? Whose cost of living? You are going the wrong direction here. If you want to decrease the cost of living you should be LOWERING my rent" I will say.
Of course, none of this makes any sense to them at all, even if it makes perfect sense to me, and the end result is that they just think I'm a smart ass prick, and for the next year we will make each others lives miserable.
So I went ahead and kept my mouth shut, signed the lease and slid it under their door in the middle of the night.
Posted by bulletholes at 2:13 PM
Friday, June 13, 2014
I thought they were listening in on everything.
Posted by bulletholes at 2:26 PM
Monday, June 09, 2014
He grabs my belt buckle and pulls up, puts his hand to feel the inside part of my leg, and takes a good long look at my crotch.
“Is that all you?” he asks.
He lets go of my buckle and says “DAMN”.
I was very proud.
Posted by bulletholes at 12:19 PM