Lanternfish 16

Killing the Rock and Roll Hotel Washington D.C. December 16th, 2016

Lanternfish 15

Debut EP out soon.
Single "Lanternfish" out now.
Get It Here
Also on iTunes and Spotify.

Lanternfish 14

Here

Hall of Famers

Iverson and Shaq
The Answer and the Big Aristotle

Skate or Die 3

Skate or Die 2

Did You Think I'd Do That?

Jimi Hendrix, Hear My Train A Comin' (acoustic)

Skate or Die

Haiku 90

The sharpest of blades
It cuts me and it cuts you
I'm drawing it now

The Nuge

Don "The Nuge" Nguyen. Going. Big.

Mushroom Head

Halloween Wonderland

Lanternfish 4

Weave 16

This one is the One. The one around which all of the rest of mine revolve. It started at a nightclub of all places, and we (three lights this time) got Felix the Cat’s from this insanely hot girl we were lucky enough to know. On the dance floor we smoked a joint, and someone came to us blowing a whistle. We thought we were busted but it turned out to be just some douche that wanted to hit our joint. He did. I remember my first unrequited sneaking under my poncho (my beautiful afghan poncho that’s lost in the mists of time) and popping her head up next to mine. There was a beach volleyball court at the back of this club.

Escape and driving, you have to divert most of your attention elsewhere while focusing your tiny normal awareness on the road. Otherwise the road gets real weird. This particular light liked to drive on the yellow lines like a monorail when the road was empty. 

We walked the streets of my neighborhood, beat boxing (not necessarily just hip hop, but making rhythmic noises in concert with our mouths), which was a big part of what we did back then, how we brought out the flows. This time, this magical time, the flows of energy that connect the universe came all the way out, and we could see them, and move within them. Manipulate them. I saw a pool of pale blue luminescence on the ground. My heart was beating fast so I sat down and opened a flow of calm. It looked like me sleeping in a peaceful blue shadowy bedroom. Then I was fine. We got moving again and continued to ride the flows and opened one we knew led to girls, but nothing happened at that moment. The bigger the flow the longer it takes to move. The guiding light did the weirdest beat box version of ‘Purple Haze’ ever. There were several minutes when I completely forgot that it was that song, until it returned. Of course, we accompanied him, but that flow was his. I accidentally opened a flow that turned us into a beer, but we escaped, as that particular intoxication was not appreciated on this level. He said ‘p times 3 gets rid of the enemy’ and made a finger twirling spiral that tightened up to a point in the center (almost like closing a safe and spinning the dial). It was a way to close flows that we didn’t want to participate in. I perceived that I could make street lights brighter, and cigarettes looked evil. He called the houses ‘inside people squares’.

The girls showed up then, surprised us outside with no phones involved (we called them with the flow). It was unrequited and her sister, and another beautiful young woman (who also talked to felix). Teenagers can be so lucky sometimes. We played a bizarre reverse version of hide and seek the girls came up with, but I don’t remember how it worked. We sat by the pool, and I could swear we were making the water rise. I could see the gigantic flow that made the sky. I could see all the flows. 

We walked on in the day and met Mr. E. He was one of the gods, a one eyed god above the trees.

Weave 12

This place moved to a beach. The gray-green waters of a mid-atlantic beach, mirroring itself on the ground and the sky. Three synchronized detonations of this astral explosive, filling our minds with ancient shapes and patterns. Much like the witch now we moved on the sand, cosmic rhythms giving us intuitive movements, powerful movements. Secret movements. Three points of light in a dark ocean of chaos. Momentum fades, words fail, and the lights separate. Nothing lasts forever.

Brief loneliness happens.

Two lights reunite with happiness, pulling together through storms of poetry and sand. The guiding light. The third light. Seen in the distance atop a cliff, waves crashing against the base. There are no sailors here. Only a lighthouse filled with magic and madness. A race to the cliff, which recedes to accommodate the two lights to be three again. 

Money looks ridiculous. Ghostly pieces of dirty paper that forever stains the fingertips. No more looking so closely. There is wood we can walk on. Creaking stairs and gritting sand and we pile in with strange humans, creatures of the night and keepers of the faith. The faith that this delusional world of objects is the alpha and omega. Faith in their bank accounts and love affairs. No conversations pass, but we summarize them by the look on their face and the movement of their limbs. They have not seen the power that looms over their head and behind their eyes, they are just timidly walking past it, head down, hoping it will pass them by. It gets to everyone eventually. Even you, timid nobody. Even you.

Sunlight changes the colors of everything, deepens the textures. Salty air fraught with moisture. We look like ugly girls in the solace of dawn. Laughter abounds. Streets are walked, a pink elephant seen, and necklaces are made out of miniature boxes of laundry detergent. Small, peanut butter smeared bagels ‘cooked’, and the fan turns my voice into zombonic robo-scissors. Guiding light makes the guitar sound right finally.

I’m hunting. hunting for power and a safe landing in a fierce and unforgiving world of moving energy. There’s a moral to these fabled stories and a sphere where they are each lodged within my being.

Weave 11

This all started from nothing. There was a place, a place people would go, and it would fill them up with joy. Things would change in this place, creative things, strange things. I don’t know what I would have done without it.
It was in a house at first. It was in the basement of a house. Carpeted. Looking at the ceiling was like looking down on a globally massive religious ceremony, with an infinite sea of people all in white, huddled around a giant crystal globe glowing like the sun. There was a witch there, a witch stalking the beach, her deliberate and measured gait making soft impressions in the sand, a circle of candles lighting her way, wooden wand at the ready. Incantations she spoke, and vile curses that the stars longed to hear, reaching out their twinkling gaze in hungry wonder. For those experiencing confusion, read on, for confusion is part of it also.
This basement had some friends, and a sea of numbers swimming around the voice of a girl I barely knew. We didn’t talk much. My eyes were spinning. People would look and laugh and flee like the pale green pants. The two closest light sources knew my secrets, for they were my friends, as was the shadowed goddess crooning quietly in the corner. She believed my lies. I didn’t even really believe them.
I was playing guitar too loud. It didn’t sound good anyway. Why couldn’t I go to sleep. It was my first taste of the DMV. Too many pictures in my head with my eyes closed. A house on a grassy hill made of wood, brick and glass. Sunlight and the functions of all the gods, towering as they did over the forests. The air conditioning sounded like hideously deranged laughter. Snow outside, and cold.

The Brothers Grimm

Showdown at Sunset

Weave 9

I'm as cold as the Arctic Ocean.
But why, when the Sun blazes through my veins?

Haiku 58

Goodbye to romance
Two hands contain the same thing
Vanishing magic

gogo