The visual artists dress better than the poets/writers etc.
I've got to get better clothes from a vintage shop somewhere in North Carolina.
Met some strange people in the woods.
The sculptures in the trees were amazing. The log cabin was painted in various bright happy colors with old time porch and handmade chairs, tables etc.
Lots of homemade food. A real mix of folks. Dancers. Psuedo hippies. Muscians with spikes on their arms (post-punk. Punk's not dead?). Quite a few natives of these parts with Appalachian/Ulster Scottish language patterns
(now that can be fascinating. Comparing the Ulster Protestant/Glasgow/Irish mix with the southern Scottish mountain mix).
They are not that similar. Just a few things here and there.
Sometimes I desire to go into the woods. But I love the city as well.
Classic split I suppose. City/chaos, woods/peace.
But then there's the city full of birds and parks and trees to sit peacefully under.
So really it's not city vs. woods. I want the woods in the city. Not sure if the city works in the woods.
I'm a little skeptical of pig farms and collective hemp making etc.
I read somewhere in someone's essay in Telling it Slant that the new punks will be optimistic.
When I think optomistic movements I think Gary Synder and the hippies. What will the new optimism look like?
I'm so full of spelling mistakes this morning. I better eat some eggs, ceral, sweep the floor, go the bookstores, read some Telling It Slant and New (American) Poetry.
Brenda Coultas amazes me. I am enraptured. I am glad the Life of Brian is being re-released in theatres to combat Mel Gibson.
I've got Day of the Dead to watch this weekend in anticipation of watching the remake of Dawn of the Dead.
Also got Hit Me by the people that brought us Secretary.
Alright time for the eggs and alka seltzer.