Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The ebb and flow of recent productivity has been very temperamental, to say the least. Some days I've written song after song, made painting after painting, and some days I've just loafed like a drunken sloth. Regardless, a couple of things I have had to focus on is writing lyrics for songs; both for my band Carrion Spring, and my own solo material. My solo material was also fleshed out with my brother and some other good friends, Lee (who also plays in Carrion Spring) and Richard. We've played 2 shows as a band, and seems to have had a surprisingly decent response. Last Thursday's Alberta Art Walk is tomorrow, and now, of course, as usual, am madly trying to produce a couple of more pieces of art. I'm completely broke, and though my parents are considering lending me this month's rent, I still would rather sell some work and do it myself. So, looks like I now embark on a frantic all-nighter.
Which, I should no longer procrastinate. So, without any further ado, here are some recent Carrion Spring lyrics, follow by some of my solo lyrics. I am starting to not completely hate what I write... I think.

Carrion Spring lyrics.

All this murk we're drownin in
a hemhorrage from leeches rotting on the wounds of cankered institutions.
so futile a tourniquet.
Become decrepit, every sinew.
every cog is rusting.
seams are ripping.
artificial selection
natural retaliation.

abandoning all stations
won't ever stop the bleed of these machines

acutely distort imminent disasters
to keep us calm before the storm.

Year of the Carrion
Glowing display radiates existence
to cleanse the mind
give life to dead time.
Still so lost, and getting worse with every minute
but we won't see it
through our own
so pathetic
to see that we are
locked up from the outside in
This womb is a graveyard
under a ton
of napalm
set ourselves ablaze

bring some light to an age so dark.
set ourselves

Troll's Toll

Fallen all the faculties, a pile on the floor
the death of an accomplice.
The shame if he knew of the blood on his hands
hung weary and limply
like flesh on a hook
and not even a soul glances at all.
Memories of stillborn inceptions
are burning at the stake.

Dancing around
choking on the ashes
Stumbling, falling
choking down the ashes
sow in the soil.

and here are some lyrics for my own solo material.

At Home
Oh this city is a wreck
but under the filthy haze
I tend to find myself at home

Trapped by the weight of an empty gun
waiting on a train
that hasn't run for years and years
the coal has all been burned
said she won't ever return
the rust is way too much for her to bear

In someways it's comforting to know
these covered tracks remain unknown
This blanket of ashes keeps me warm
Or so I tell myself she said.

The letters I write pile up
cause I haven't got a stamp
but they help make me feel
at home.

The dogs keep scratching at the door
and the lock ain't holdin up
The radio has lost all but one
station that plays the same
songs every night and day
the rust is way too much for me to care

In someways it's comforting to know
these covered tracks remain unknown
This blanket of ashes keeps me warm
Or so I tell myself, I know.

The wounded bird that's taken in
won't ever fly again.
won't ever fight again.

These Bloody Days

I'm tryin to be
as best as I can
even with these blood soaked sheets
but baby I swear I've enough to spare

So let these guts spill out all over the tile floor
it's enough to build a whole new man

I know it takes sometime to find how lost we really are
but I don't mind the trip as long as you know

how fucked we really are
maybe now's the time for me to mention to you
That I don't fear no death
and I don't fear no love
keeps it so damned hard to make these promises.

But even though sometimes my words are better than my actions
and the more you give the less I'll make of myself

I can not say the sober life is always best for me
but sometimes things fall into place in spite of

How fucked we really are
maybe now's the time for me to mention to you
That I don't fear no death
and I don't fear no love
keeps it so damned hard to make these promises
that i am hoping I will hold
i'm stickin to my guns
even though i'm running out of shells
And every now and then i feel
trapped between the past
and the times that I may still have
but for now
what we got will stay with me for good.

The Flood
I hear the wind scrapin' along the fence.
I seen better men than I left in the dust
ashes to rust.
The sun has been pouring rain for days and days.

Here comes the flood.
Stay afloat.

Says "soon there'll be change..."
it keeps them up on the fence.
Says "their used to it..."
as their singin' along
casual songs
songs for killing time
not the kind that will move mountains.

Here comes the flood.
Stay afloat.

Oh, our broken hearts can sing us back to life.

When the tide breaks low
I will cut the line.
Hangin off the moon
swingin' side to side.
Drowinin' in the glow
among the fire flies.

Don't go to far down now
the pressure could be all too much
for this air so thin.

Only half awake
far from piece of mind.
Sending up the flares
budding in the sky.
Staying hard to find
left me high and dry.

Don't go to far down now
the pressure could be all too much
for this air so thin.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Friday, July 16, 2010


'nother new one. S'ok, I guess.

Thursday, July 15, 2010


New piece of a small series, exploring the use of acronyms created by socializing through digital technology. more to come.

Perfect weather hits Portland again. Today was a good balance of chillaxing while being simultaneously productive. into it. Went down to the waterfront with the lady during sunset and watched fish jump out of the water. And lately the air around the neighborhood where my studio is has been hella dank with fumes of hops and barley from the nearby brewery. I am developing a palette for the smell. I am sure someday it'll end up being quite a nostalgic smell.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Current mindstate: Ice cream coma

I haven't even the excuse of a sweltering summer to justify my lethargy and neglect of updating my artwork online. Been busy, in a way... making music and art. Nothing that brings home the blocks of cheddar, of course. Rent has been a struggle, and actually I been hardly scraping by. I feel like I am stuck in the summer of 2002 again. Hopefully I can hang on until student financial aid disbursement.
The first half of summer has been pretty outrageous... there have been quite a number of house shows, mainly of friends and such. There have been several shorter road trips, many parties, my birthday, many guest couch surfers, among many other eventful things worth mentioning, but just not in this post. I'll do that within the next day or so. Until then, I'll just post a few freshly new, and some fairly new pieces of art. Bueno.

Medicate. Manipulate. Annihilate.


Entropics of Love

Title Bout

Copy of a Rembrandt drawing for a class

Boat on the Columbia River
The Columbia River

Hippie bum with Devil Sticks on the waterfront