Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The moon the moon...from my front yard
Artguy's abode

Peace give me warmth...the neighbourhood cemetery.
Forso italia...World cup, once every 4 years I live in a circus. That's Artguy's daughter in the middle.

made a weird little football from the colors of the flags they are holding. it's supposed to be like a planet

three track pillars,
peace & euphoria
(all it´s possible)
in Italy´s colors Hood

Coming home from the Y this morning dropped into the Common great loud music full of artsy sorts drinking lattes an talking talking madly talking and there was woman with big moon eyes tapping her red nailed finger tips on the bar to Paul Simon's Graceland ....brought to my broken mind spring 1979 hitch hiking home from Corpus Christi bass player from Leon Russell's band picks me up wildly driving against the Mississippi flow I pull out a handful of Texas bennies the speed faster than the headlights towns disappearing behind us in the darkness of night across steel rivet bridge over muddy river below into Memphis and drinking in bars all night music music music...blues, hillbilly rock, almost jazz and country too...until sun rises over Tennessee mountains....off to pancake house on Elvis Presley Blvd. and more bennies...throw back syrupy sweetness and off to Graceland home of the obscene gyrating hipster of early ed Sullivan days ... ya so old cotton picking manor with musical gate....after a short visit we nod to each other and agree no big deal...Elvis has left the building... back out to the highway and parting of our ways both off to different lives...Hasta luego amigo....next stop Chattanooga..

jam flow
leon and the
new riders
was the show
before hoods
or were they
just ornaments
on the hoods
of fast cars
back to leon
to tower records
silk screen tees
it was a shootout
on the plantation

The Presentation of the Adult

In long dress
with etch and stitchery,
the buttons and lines,

our suited tress
and dashing flip,
lip, sashings.

We parade before the youth,
let them not see our broken
parachutes.

But how tall
with our quiet voices
by grave sides,
when we're intent to portray the moon
on blotted paper
and engaged in reading novels
opened to Steinbeck,
Ginsburg and Richard Brautigan
on our porch swings,

mellow in attitude,
content in spirit,
enthusiastic
at their sporting events.

Yesterday Mrs Artguy and I took a walk in a conservation area in Toronto that is actually made from landfill. 25 Years ago as a general contractor i use to take construction refuse there. In one of the pictures you can see some concrete reinforcement bar sticking out of the ground.

walk over broken toilet seats
crumbled foundations
instant archaeology

Brick house beckons home.
Can I can roam to visit?
It's spring, isn't it?
I'll sleep on the floor
and what's more,
I'll cook you and your wife
breakfast in the morn.
Artists sharing bread.
A new day born.
Let us paint. Let us pray.
Can I come for a week to stay?
Or even just a night will do.
One day I sure would like to
meet you and your wife, too!

Artguy, here's one for you...
LAST OF MAY PENNY HAIKU
By Steve Plonk

Toronto, say you will
Even in Toronto, there's no chill...
Time to head out and go canoeing,
While warm weather comes calling
Time to go watch the water falling,
Feel the spray on a warm day in May...
As many flowers start a-blooming...

Very cool Steve...all the right elements.