2018/09/12
I love cutting back #wisteria and #smoking following yoga.* I liked getting a little lost on foot in what is basically my neighborhood before I got to the #yellow #victorianhouse *
Wisteria is funny. When it's in its Glory, full of semi-hologramic-purple, heavy dangling bloom, and swirling-treacly fragrance, people love it and practically worship it. And as also the #owl, it sort of comes and goes with some #southerngothic #mystical impression #thenisgone *
Most of its life is mere growing of rubbery barked, tightly wrapping vines, anywhere it may please. An attractive foliage manifests from these often disfigured looking nodes and it can provide a great deal of shade under a trellis of sorts; man-made or otherwise. 👽
Most of a wisteria vines' Hardy life is considered #invasivespecies and people attempt with very strange theories and methods of how to make it bloom on a regular basis, and be #morelikethey #are #intheprettypictures * * Very few actually #work , but what the fuck other choice does one have but to do things like put tinfoil on the dirt at the base of the aggressive vine, hoping to secure maximum bloom #potential?
*I like patches of #locusttrees #better . It has a unusual #biannual subtle bloom. While also in its #weedlike #growth , additionally #creates strong straightish sections which can be used easily for things like fence #posts or banisters. They grow in clusters like a nice family who has invited you to dinner and you don't know them that well but their graciousness beats your anxiety.** Locust trees do sport thorns as a defense mechanism, but one could use gloves in a pinch as it needs not to be #seasoned &may be burned in your fireplace for warmth or for getting down with some bottles of #rose on the #rug in front of it for some cliche' #romantic #fucking
*** Fire can't get destroyed by fire and water cannot drown itself.
**
God bless James P. O'Brien's family from #parkslope days. His son was 3 weeks old when #septembereleventh happened. He was absurdly handsome, disciplined, sweet, funny, but could kick the shit out someone if he had to. Sometimes if I don't know what to do I think of Jim and Lisanne. A very rare sort.
2018/09/11
*I love smoking after yoga. *
*
Most of practice today, Kendra kept on the ground. There was an extremely long pigeon posture. My face on my hands. My hands on the ground. I had my eyes tight shut and let them open slightly viewing the pattern of my orange mat. "The Pigeon" itself was not muscularly strenuous, yet another kind of painful call with the choice to endure.
The acrobatics were internal. I felt the filthy poison grit grinding in my hip sockets and hopping a fence to go somewhere else it belonged for the sake of not belonging. It nodded to my 'Train Track Tim", "Larry the Lizard" and my "generous hobo" soul, as it threw away its broken umbrella and moronically ran. Out of sight of eyes slightly viewing.
The 'Intention' was set for an old friend who could use my intention this morning.
Kendra read something after Savasana. Something like: "It's difficult to pick yourself up when your mind is trying to rewrite the story of what it was that knocked you down".
* Do you like that?
*I do * Do you fucking hate that?
* Me too
Can I love it cognitively, and take it for the motivational encouragement it was probably designed for? Can that speak to my heart and like an intellectual snob, still poke holes in each of those words and with faith and the poked words create a sieve in which my truth is eventually being distilled into the suchness?
*
Of course.
And one can poke holes in my holes too.
Yay!
I've spent a lot of time in my adult life rewriting. Going with first take. Second take. No take. No give. No ticky, no shirty.
Trying to make IT stop. Trying to make IT go. *
There are a lot of beautifully sung versions and mechanical and daft, proficient renditions of that song "Hallelujah" with a lot of video with "cum-shot" expression and "going for it" and "killing it". I may love them all (except for that awful duo at open mic in Vero)
Perhaps we should really listen to that song and try to actually hear it sometime. *
Maybe racist sneakers would be less pro and con and just irrelevant fodder saved for soggy unbalanced tables, drunk at some shitty bar.
*
But if you decide NOT to go now and hear "Hallelujah", I PROBABLY won't pay you for your phone.
gregconnorsmusic#leonardcohen #yoga #suchness #forgiveness #doesitserveyou #hallelujah #mat #chesapeakebay #arentyougladyouasked #futurenostalgia
2018/09/05
I see Dad took
his new family to Disney.
The proof was on my phone.
Seaside winter rate motel
And my memory
Crunching on a snow cone.
*
The Dank smell of low tide
Not breath of Mini Mouse.
Hide and seek by
Primer grey cellar door.
He'll get to it later
Some available color douse.
*
Don't store your treasure here
Walt with garish
and sinister kingdom.
Sitting by a pier
with the other
furry cartoon grinning idiots
Posing for photos and Drinking a beer.
*
I see Dad took
his new family to Disney
Flagged feeling
Asking advice by a sink.
Circle the drain but turn upstream
Goofey with no low tide stink.
2018/05/16
Voted. Stayed in from the tornado.
Drank a delicious bottle of real Coke with real sugar, washing down vitamins. I fell in love with my present life again. Sometimes what helps is knowing I may feel like I hate it again sometime later.
All the great people and the dilemmas form a floating feeling and the hardships are an honor to be a part of somehow.
My ego or "critic" just told me I should be writing and not standing outside on the sidewalk under a tree, writing...wait-what? #source #thankgod #thankdog #cleansocks #cleansheets #gatherwood #bringwater @gretchenpellaton photo by @flotus embellished by @twinamy @jordan.b.peterson #cocacola #shaklee
2018/05/15
I awoke to the devil whispering but couldn't tell if it was really him.
There were many different voices.
It was early, with my usual confusion.
I listened to them all at once, until they hummed like nothing.
I assess a feigned reality which is really the best I've got left- or something.
I reached out to a source,
up through the button of mine
to counter-push.
I journey on for an answer, not sublime,
not much of a burning bush.
I treat myself to breakfast.
That was enough for that hour.
I got what I needed
While jumping off a match-stick tower.
I Pleaded with the ricochet
To not cower to me-
Just stand regular
but land somewhere gentle.
Dry room with view of the sea.
Photo @joseph_arthur about a year ago
#beatthedevil @kriskristoffersonpersonalpage
2018/05/13
Sick of "music".
Just going to focus on writing songs when I can.
I always could.
In between snapshots and meals.
After leaving the pie factory.
When you're going home and I'm worn out, eating a sandwich.
Right before the whistle blows.
Sitting by the machine, the crappy sounds and the bad lighting.
I always can and here I am
With a pie plate on my head, hiding from a camera.
Just going to focus on the songs.
Going to keep out of trouble.
I'm sick of Music.
rosa_pratI can hear the interference sound in the picture.
2018/05/12
Today's activity was packed-concise like blood between clear, glass slides in fitted storage case, snapped-shut inside locked cabinet within sterile lab, down hallway of prestigious medical center; standing proud on gaurded campus-in a town which sounds familiar to everyone but no one really wants to go to.
Like a well-wheeled gerbil, I sit on the train (boarding as doors shut-perforated loud beeping) in my stained-white-lab-coat, cross-eyed over THE microscope trying to remember the disease structure I was looking for, but distracted by @twinamy & @mo.l.lu asking me if it was "a mock itinerary, or if, perhaps, the itinerary just mocked me"?
I didn't know enough to say.
2018/05/01
Wires get crossed.
The wires were used and reused until eventually the atmosphere changed and EVERYTHING was repurposed.
Some of the purpose was to break up spaces in the sky, divide and trick the eye.
Some purpose was to be NOTHING.
A frantic magician struggles, unnecessarily.
His audience of onlookers (begging for HIS invited deception)
not making enough noise to muster his tricks their just frame.
My hat is off to the rabbit and flame spilling out onto black-clothed table, smiling.
Sawed in half, other end turning.
I'm off to the races, chugging turtle soup from flower vases,
living well enough to walk; tying up loose ends and detangling wires crossed.
Cliff-side choices:
To snip, not trip,
electronic-eye-fence; recompense from the dusty, elaborate schema.
Stopping now to sit with my whirring.
On this occasion, I stalk a love-hate relationship
with my wiring.
Some kind of wonderful, some kind of stirring.
As I lay running for the electronic train, dying.
Alive for once.
Again.
Still.
@blackbodegabag (*house warming present)
2018/04/18
From Theodore Roosevelt's "Man in the Arena" speech given at the Sorbonne in Paris in 1910 when he talked about men who live their life "in the arena"
*this was msg from @frank.fleming the other day when nothing was anything and everything was too much of nothing, but raging ugly* :-) It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly; who errs,
who comes short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;
but who does actually strive to do the deeds;
who knows great enthusiasms,
the great devotions;
who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who at the worst,
if he fails,
at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
2018/04/07
I slept okay but I woke up earlier than I wanted to. I went to yoga. I ate a sandwich from the deli & drank a cup of coffee. Sitting back in my room, I listened to and tried to relearn my old song "Two Women and a Flood (Sweet Distraction)" on the suggestion of a pretty lady. I responded to some emails and texted with a friend. After cleaning up a little bit, I decided to take a shower.
Standing in the shower, it wasn't getting warm. It was remaining pretty cold. I cursed my wretched life. "You have ruined Everything", I thought. "Anything of value which life has provided, you have mismanaged and taken for granted". The voice reflected in a broken mirror, snearing.
The water started to get warm. Then it got too hot. I adjusted. The synthetic floral and covert musk fused with the moist atmosphere of the steam filled newer bathroom. I can't say how long I spent in there.
I dried off the best i could in the moist chamber. It smelled like teen spirit, yet here I am and there I mostly wasn't.
Getting back to my room, I realized I had about 3 minutes to get to the train to not be late. I pulled together some clothes, planning my next move. While I was putting on my socks, I looked around the room for the pants I would next put on. And when I put on the pants, I thought about where my keys were, etc.
In a successful attempt to streamline and parcel my time, I ran down the street to the train. I trudged there somehow a little bit early for a day of suprisingly enchanting people with questions. Questions I could honestly answer; asked mostly in Greek or Romanian accents, they charmed me.
That movie "Momento" really had something to it.
When it gets warmer, some morning, I'm going to ride the #13 bus from here (right out front) to Rye Playland. Get some sun. Ride a rollercoaster. Start to challenge myself for once.
2018/04/01
"I thought it would be a full moon tonight. We won't need the usual flashlights, because the darkness is lit up already. And we'll see what we'll see. There's nowhere else to be. When everything is in its place, it's hard to see that I'm not the stray cat that I used to be. I catch things on my TV.
She wants it to be her fault so she can fix it. And you don't want it all down in the basement. And you don't get the credit for what they ask of you-so we're on our way back down. We're on our way uptown. We're on our way, back around "e
2018/03/26
No no no. I was only planning on charging my phone.
Lisa, I really hadn't planned on becoming all involved.
Lo and behold, here it is before 10 and I'm ordering your "Grouper Rueben". I don't know if I'm even hungry, but the moxy of such a culinary arrangement does not go unnoticed and my parents will say "Greg, we coulda made ya a sandwich, we have food here". And I would have had to explain that they couldn't have made grouper crunchy with all these components or charged my phone or provided shelter from the storm (which seemed to run away scared once i came in here).
And they would have said "we dont want ya spendin all that money, Greg", and I would've said "I am on vacation and that's part of it, but it WAS expensive and the house music was terrible and the comfortable, colorful aesthetic wouLD HAVE been more flattered by nina simone or secret caves, or Will Oldham cuz do we really need to hear 'if ya like it then ya betta put a ring on it' again?". And they'd offer me coffee and Antonia would roll her eyes & call me something like a "creative artist', or 'intellectual snob" and dad would be saying something like "it's great yer sobah, ya got options today -it's beautiful. God Bless ya, Gregs....but bring a sandwich with ya next time".
2017/12/22 Sometimes I close my eyes to see things clearly.
Talking in circles until Im weary,Catching the pointI wasn't even tryingto make initially.
But you say I'm on to something and I don't say (these days)"That's hardly the point",Because sometimesI'm connected with the fact that I'm not.
Like those stars Which are visibleOr what you feel you want.Driving into the deep end Soaking In what's not.
I bury myself by some plant GenuinelyOften times (these days) I Want what I've got.
2017/11/20 There's no high-5. It doesn't get you high:
Paying your phone bill.
Buying coffee filters (which fit your hopper properly!).
Answering my phone when I don't want to.
Putting my clothes away.
There's no high-5. It doesn't get you high:
Choosing the correct ripeness of banana at the underdog Bodega in town.
Not stalking an exgirlfriend I want to be near or just see.
Not calling booking agents to tell them exactly who I think I am.
Not making it worse.
Sometimes things go right from "okay" to the acute mental chaos straight to the emotional benzo.
When I don't give a fuck
that "it could always be worse". Drinking strong latte.
My old music came on over the house speakers.
It was random. On Spotify
"Walking, walking"
It was like a high-5.
I'm going to quit while I'm in the middle. Just for Today.
#gregconnorsmusic #josepharthur #whiteplainsstudio
2017/11/09 I went in to wrong shift on the right day came in later at the right time. I wrote a song about being the king of the Farmers Markets and played it for my Aunt Dottie over the phone and she said I was "doing so good" and that I am "VERY well spoken". That's all I need to hear. Except for Nick's drunken pirate song and Scott's doo-wop, cuz in all three of those cases it's just an unchained Melody.
2017/11/07 Suchness.
Sometimes I wake up despairing, trying to find a new spin on an old despair. Looking for trouble. One would be hard-pressed to find somewhere where there is no trouble. So...."every action has an equal and opposite blah blah blah...?" just trying to get through, but not BE through. Don't be done, good ones.
201/11/06 Goodnight Moon. It's too much. Been doing too much. Exausted. Seeing shadow people out corner of my eye. Fragile reluctant bullies.
Women look womanly. Pleasantly overwhelmed, transcending my mere lonely horniness. I changed superficial dumb top 40 to delusional reggae. Brightly-dim lighting and smell of sweet food following a grey Farmers market performance of which we will hopefully fade into a slightly disturbing audio mulch, nourishing the subconsciously weak; begining the week for hip-Hudson -town commuters come what may tomorrow. Say "validation" 30x and I'll be bored. She drove away in a Jeep.
2017/11/05 Sometimes things get worse before they get better....I enjoy this current design of the collaborative effort these two are making here -but again, my shirts and pies are not worn by many + I could use a napkin for my face. "Oh Greg don't be so hard on yourself". I don't know how to communicate your loss more than I have. I'm no head of lettuce. But that guy with moustache in window is watching me.
2017/05/09 : When do you remove something
that bothers you? Do you even want to?
Glue breaks down and it will fall on it's own.
Shown the goings-on before that time.
Climb the wall and take the picture down.
Town's just outside laying around.
Clowned by her pound of flesh and emotional Switzerland;
I Kiss her hand and educate the guess.
Mess hall bravado, I bow to stand the rest.
2017/23/04 : Fortunately they had hired 'chaos blocker' for the shift in question. Unfortunately it has profound effects, both positive and negative on the cost-benefit analysis. The shop as a whole became conflicted.
2017/13/04 : Female lineage on my moms side. Mom was 3 year old standing on ground. Her mom, Ruth, on far left. In black dress to her right was my great "Grandma Cocky". She played piano, organ, banjo and harmonica. She gave me my first instrument. It was a Magnus organ which I eventually gave to Will Fratesi when we played in "front st.". Grandma Cocky, (who was going completely blind), would secretly have left coins by the foot-bridge on rocks at the edge of the stream near her home in Youngstown and tell me to go down & get "what a little troll must have left(for me)". Saw my first praying mantis with her by the mailbox on Maccachee Lane next to a "preacher and the pulpit" plant. Seriously. She was kooky and mystical.
2017/08/04 : So both of them
Of two very different worlds
Had hesitated to say
But one at least did to show care
The other to make seal sounds, seafare.
I needed advice
A vision
Of
My Brand.
Do you give good brand?
Oh the humanity!
As my brand
And checkered past
Walk hand in hand
"My brand?"
"It's fine; oh thank you so much for asking!!"
I had rebranded in Taos after that WRAS Incident,
But I did it on "my own"
(Meaning I had speed and a narcissist wife back then)
But currently
My Brand...the guy asked,
"Are they in your band- the picture? For you LOOK! And they do NOT!"
Oh my BRAND!
Sizzling blistering skin rubbing
in sand.
Hot church in choir loft
she fanned.
Show me reward in the bland.
Your generic geriatric
Ass-shakery
And yeah I'll just stand;
Panned.
My Brand
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