Team Shredder

Dear, MR. Kurtakhhtasdjk;:

I have made a piture of my special intense feelings of a spirituality nature and wondered if you organize could use such an artwork as this for one of a book covers? I can also send you some of my poetical musings on this spiritual natures. Make sure your screen is big enough to appreciate. I can send you a better rendering if you want me to.

I look forward to you saying Yes!

Mr. BuCephalus Chardonnay



Forthcoming on Team Shredder Press:

INTENSITIES

Poetical Musings by BuCephalus Chardonnay

Tragedy has struck Team Shredder. I busted my fin box on my favorite surfboard, The Green Rocket.
I have no one to blame but myself.
I knew better. The tide was very low, and dropping still, yet I took that wave too far in anyway. Over the sand would have been fine, high tide would have been better, but this was in an area covered in rocks. Rocks that are close to the surface at low tide. Rocks that I know all about since this was at my home break.
At least I didn't do what Jay did, which was to jump off his board, land on a rock, and break his foot, all the while knowing better. It's a comfort somehow, which may or may not be disgusting to admit.

Angela Dufresne, The Two Ladies in the Jewelry Store from Fassbinder's 'Veronika Voss' - AKA "The Oath" 2007. Oil on canvas. 54" X 84"


I was happy to view 2 paintings by Angela Dufresne and a drawing by Dawn Clements at Kinkead Contemporary in Los Angeles the other night. Both artists did an excellent job with physical and psychic space: Dawn, with her density and intensity of rhythmic lines, and highly temporal passages from section to section in her large drawing, and Angela with her ghostlike markings, extreme directional color washes, and CinemaScope aspect ratio scale.
Well played, peoples.

I thought it was about time I talked about the excellent road trip I went on with The Mrs., gree c and Gandi.
We met up in San Francisco, where gree c, Gandi and I had to have a 5 mile hike on the cliffs and trails at Land's End in SF. We walked so long that darkness fell, giving me a creepy feeling for one second, in the creepy bushes in the wayward man trails, but gree c reassured me that we were ok, using her Romantic photo of the Golden Gate bridge (too Romantic to see the bridge,) as proof of the magic bubble that surrounded us.


Anyway, after a champagne lunch at The Mrs. dad's house on xmas day, we hit the road for Santa Cruz. The chief organizing principle for us there was a visit to the Bonny Doon wine tasting room/log cabin in the redwoods, which was ridiculously fun.
Figure (b): Gandi shows us who's the boss of the planet, (and it ain't the retarded humans.)





Speaking of the retarded humans, here is the choad further down the coast near Big Sur. The Mrs. drove us down the amazing highway 1, a beautiful winding road that clings to the cliffs and offers dramatic views and poignant reflections on The Self and The Life and Death, etc.




I don't have the attention span to give any more details, but rest assured it was beauty beauty beauty all the way down the coast, till we ended up in LA, where Gandi continued to lead us on an OCD tour of Modernist architecture.
Figure (c): The Schindler House! This place is insane. I actually started hyperventilating a little.
Another LA highlight of our tour:
The Eames House!

Again, I can't focus enough to explain about the million other buildings we saw, because I'm distracted by the knowledge that there are big, beautiful waves out there today, and perfect, windless & sunny conditions. The memory of yesterday's mad rides on the overhead waves haunts me, and I can no longer sit still.

I got nothin'. Nothin' but donut holes.
Or as Sea Monkey used to say after 20 minutes in the ocean, "I got nothin', G, I'm weak as a kitten."
Many things have happened, few insights have been had, and yet for once in my extremely remarkable life I got nothin' to say about it. Perhaps it's time to switch from Earl Grey to Constant Comment? Or just embrace the coffee more often, have more riding of the snake.
"0."