Monday, January 11, 2010

On the way to Nutzville

Atemporal mycological discontent (Shroom Lust)

The upset of our collective
digestion is that we forgot how to wander,
can’t recall even an inkling of
how to hunt & gather
These days we are not content to sit hunched
and twitching, hairy grumpy lackluster
scrounging food inside of stone and
mortar, aching inside cardboard boxes

Hunting took us splashing across
stone-strewn creeks. Gathering drew us tumbling
into maidenhair pools after Dicamptodon
Tenebrus, stalking his disturbance and
digging for sweet fishy flesh deep in misty forests

Seared by flame, faces drained
of lymphatic reason
flicker in log-walled lamplight. White blood leaks
mycological ink, drooling
love poems onto scorched parchment

Poisoned pen and frog-tipped arrow,
timeless satisfaction endures
the rage of winter, storm-tossed
into copper lined saute, shuffling
a release of basidiospores
singularly satisfying
as inky capped self digestion

Evolution of parts to whole
into a subspecies -- the well-oiled brain
just slimy enough, just wild enough
to survive yet another deep freeze.

The ideas are flying around in my head like bullets, pinging off of rocks and tin cans and barn roofs. I don't know if they are hitting their targets or not, most likely not. There are stories here and stories there and my riding and roping skills are so rusty that I keep falling off the horse. Last night I had a dream about Ed Grimley. He reminded me that one of his favorite expressions is not "outstanding" but "excellent."
"Oh, that is a most excellent ballad, I must say" or "Isn't that the most excellent of excellences."

I think I might be on the way to Nutzville when it comes to holding this writing thing together. But maybe that's good, just maybe? Maybe I haven't been crazy enough and therein lies the problem. Maybe, just maybe Ed Grimley appearing in my dreams is a sign that I'm about to strike oil. The big gusher! All it will take is the knifeblade of crazy slicing through the final paper-thin sinew of reality to allow the words and their necessary evil, otherwise known as staying organized and pimping yourself, to bleed thoroughly, soaking the frozen, snowy trail with bright red blooms of passion.

Meanwhile, there are mushrooms and misty riverbanks, tree holes, poetry, stripping down to bare skin on a January day, Norwegianesque health dips in icy rivers, dripping ferns, trout-filled creeks, and love.

A funny thing happened on the way to Nutzville.....maybe that's how the story begins.


Shanna Germain said...

Dude, I love you. And fucking gorgeous photos!

Gina Marie said...

Right back at you, dude! Thx for stopping by!

Craig Sorensen said...

Hear, hear on the photos, and the words too!

Some of the greatest creative moments are born from those random thoughts. No doubt about it.

The triangle solo reminds me of the first triangle solo I saw just after Christmas on a concert DVD by the Foo Fighters where Dave Grohl calls his percussionist out to center stage to rock the crowd with his triangle. Crowd chanting "tri-an-gle, tri-an-gle" and forming the proper shape with thumb and index fingers...

Anyway, verification word: stedi

Be stedi, but not too stedi.

Gina Marie said...

Many thanks, Craig! I know you are well-tuned to those precious moments.

I love your triangle story! Kind of like more cowbell :-)


Erobintica said...

Am just sitting and soaking it all in - lovely pictures and words - as I begin another year around this thing called life - I am so thankful for finally being able to enjoy the nuttiness of it all - and all the awesome wonderful passionate nutty people in my life. I would never give all this up!

Gina Marie said...

Robin! Hello! I know what you mean, I really do. In fact, I had a "feeling verklempt" moment last night when this powerful emotional feeling of "Thank fucking goodness I have made it to this amazing place" hit me hard. I guess putting down some roots in Nutzville is a very good thing. Love you! Thanks for commenting :-)

Jeremy Edwards said...

Last night I had a dream about Ed Grimley. He reminded me that one of his favorite expressions is not "outstanding" but "excellent."

Now that's what I call service! You didn't even have to make an appointment? (Well, okay, I wouldn't make you make an appointment, either.)

Maybe, just maybe Ed Grimley appearing in my dreams is a sign that I'm about to strike oil.

How could it be otherwise?

Nut on with your triangle power!

P.S. Wow, that guy can move!

Ha! spamword: lubcone