द्रगोंस्ब्लूद (sangre de draco)

According to the "Wiki"...

In American Hoodoo, African-American folk magic, and New Orleans voodoo, Dragon's Blood is used in mojo hands for money-drawing or love-drawing, and is used as incense to cleanse a space of negative entities or influences. It is also added to red ink to make "Dragon's Blood Ink", which is used to inscribe magical seals and talismans.


"Dragon's Blood" detail from "1st National Bicentennial" (July 4, 1976).

Dragon's blood (Daemonorops) was used for ceremonies in India. Sometimes Dracaena resin, but more often Daemonorops resin, was used in China as red varnish for wooden furniture. It was also used to colour the surface of writing paper for banners and posters, used especially for weddings and for Chinese New Year.

Dragon's blood of both Dracaena draco and Dracaena cinnabari were used as a source of varnish for 18th century Italian violinmakers. There was also an 18th century recipe for toothpaste that contained dragon's blood. In modern times it is still used as a varnish for violins, in photoengraving, as an incense resin, and as a body oil.

In folk medicine, dragon's blood is used externally as a wash to promote healing of wounds and to stop bleeding. It is used internally for chest pains, post-partum bleeding, internal traumas and menstrual irregularities. In neopagan Witchcraft, it is used to increase the potency of spells for protection, love, banishing and sexuality. In New Age shamanism it is used in ceremonies in a similar way as the neopagans use it.

(original music 1998)
Download in .OGG format
(it should play on your mp3 player)

Space City Rock: "Dragons In The Dungeon"

a) Crystal Forest
b) Avatar Awakens
c) Vizier's March
d) The Conjuring
e) Dragon's Breath
f) Jason's Lament
g) Epilogue

Time - 18:10 | 23.71 MB

Dragon's Blood was used in this original drawing, and I'm boiling some right now in the mini cauldron. It's a fabulous 'clean' scent, and I highly recommend its use.

Wanting...Waiting...Watching... Mass Debating

Searching for a sign
Solo Sentenced - Silent
Secluded and Shamefully Deluded

Why won't You be there for Me?
Gambling on a Dream and Running on no Steam.
No White Knight / Black Steed, What's only left to Bleed Blue.
You - the ONE - The Only? For me... You Have Read Me.



To be without - a painful Stake
In the Heart of Destiny - it Breaks.
Coloured by ulterior incitement broiling
Hot Grills of mounting Questions spoiling.

Again Anointed and with Anonymous Approval Awaiting
The Portent from another Time revisits - skating - past...
Passed beyond the Now - and Zen of Nothing - to hold
And no one to hold on.
Bereft.

Keeping sakes of last burgeoned Romance - lasting not
'Til Forever and a Day - comes Throttle full on - in time
To envision dropping Bombs from Astral Planes of Hate
Relate Conflection at an inner State
Start another Round.
Debate.

Sevenseal

Without the Future - there is no Past...
Present in Focus will be our Last.


So, what to do with all this?
Channeled into the works. There's got to be a way of finally releasing it back to where it came from. It's simply not a good thing keeping it bottled up all these years. The energies have to go somewhere.

Caught on canvas. Like Cthulhu'Thulhu or Yog-Sothoth, rendered harmless - but retaining the power inertly. Never to do harm again, but good instead.


above image courtesy of King Crimson

I saw three Hawks & four Crows yesterday on the path. 3 Hawks with 4 Crows is a sign for me - an omen. If others can do it to music, so I will attempt by image.

THIS SEE OF CHANGES

As years go on - and beauty fades
We wonder
Why we were put here in the first place?

The way we were becomes a faded moment in time.
The way we are is but a fleeting moment.
...and who knows how or even if we will be...

Seize this Moment
Love the Close Ones
on and on it flows
Into Blackness
Everlasting
'til Seed Eternal Grows.

Andy: My Version...

Andy was a Big Burly Biker.
Someone you'd never want to Fuck with - let alone meet alone in a dark alley...

He was also one of my best friends. I loved him. When he was in the bar, I knew nobody would give me any shit - because Andy always took care of it. He seemed very gruff to most all people, but with me he was a Teddy Bear. He'd always come to me for doctoring after the brawl. I think I may have saved him from stitches more than once.

I took the time to understand him. (he had a Polish-Gypsy accent) He was never very complicated, but I always listened to his story. I don't think he had anyone else - a Loner - kind of like me.



Why he chose me, I'll never know - but I was glad he did. He 'kidnapped' me (his words) one time after I'd had a horrible night tending bar at the strip joint, and we rode away on his Harley. We spent 3 days away on the road and in the mountains. I was in heaven - and Andy was very HOT in the lone sleeping bag we had to share. (I guess I have a thing for sleeping bags and rough tuff guys...) But, I will always remember his tenderness, because he was such a brute of a macho man to everyone else.

With me he was totally different. He let himself go. I guess he was, with me - what he thought he could never let the world know, outside us.

We would each have a hand tattooed and be branded on the chest with the Ankh, as a way of remembering our closeness. (besides being blood-brothers) It just fucking pisses me off when I lose people like this... I know I was cursed by Drew (he was a warlock), but he could never steal what Andy and I shared.

Drew had given me a cursed Seal of Solomon, and I made the mistake of trusting him and wearing it for a time. I think I still have some traces of bad karma lingering from this even today. You see, the lady Drew was interested in, was interested in me... and he pretended to be a friend. When we were alone one night she begged me not to let him take her. She was so afraid of Drew she was shaking as she talked between the tears. I was already wearing the seal when I found all this out... Too late.



Much too soon afterwards, Andy was killed in a tragic motorcycle accident (1978). He wasn't supposed to die just yet. (I'm sure some of you know what I mean...) The circumstances were very sketchy. Coincidence? I think not. The story continues beyond even this, but I won't relate it here.

I still miss Andy's rugged ways and the protection and love he harboured for me... He was my champion.

Here's to you, My Brother.
How I'm still here is anybody's guess...
I suppose I have the stories to tell.

TRUE COLOURS

An art project for class Studio 101.
I was lucky to have a teacher like Olaf Zeidenberg, from Germany's Bauhaus - and originally from Estonia Lithuania. (We used to kid him about jumping over the Berlin Wall and taking a bullet in the ass on the way)...

And so, we were given the assignment to do a self portrait in any medium.

Of course, I couldn't decide, so I did a mixed media drawing on canvas complete with pencil (graphite, colored & grease), conté crayon, and india ink. A strange combination I thought, but then again it was 1972, and I was only 17... what the hell did I know? (I also did a matching portrait of Alfonso, but I gave that to him years ago)

The drawings of Fons & I were stylized in an Egyptian fashion, but on canvas instead of papyrus. I had a huge red afro then, and Alfons used to kid me and call it an Iro (because I'm mostly Irish). Other nicknames ensued, such as Brillo & Beatnik. (and a few others I won't mention)...

The birth of a new Dharma Bum...



Another poem...
I had written this one after I had learned of Fonso's Death. Writing through tears throughout my life was to become the bastion that protected my soul.

"DARKNESS, LIGHTLY"

Topsy-turvy, whirling dervish:
LIFE comes crashing down,
In amidst our little worlds...
While REALITY, the Clown; goes
Dancing wildly through the crowd
Touching each and every heart
With grimacing appeal and fear
Our SPIRITS shrink and grow.
Until CONFUSION sinks the FIBER-BEING
Of self-collective mind.


DEATH, the MIGHTY MASTER
Secret sleeps inside our time...
Wakens instant insane & claims
His everlasting PRIZE.

Confessions Of A Bass Player

Kevin was gorgeous. A redhead like me, he was tall and lean - a bearded mountain hiking outdoorsman who was a pisser on the drum set. I, being the bass player (another band) naturally grew very close to him. We met at a jam session, and ended up talking the night away, just the two of us. He told me many of his deepest darkest secrets...

As time moved on we became closer and closer. He used to intentionally tease me by standing so very close to me that I could often feel his body heat after a drum workout... I never complained. I touched him once, when he was so close to me I could smell his manly muskiness. It was an instant hard-on for both of us. He used to wear knee-high moccasins with his skin-tight jeans tucked inside. So very sexy... and "pressed meat". (LOL)



I pretended not to notice how big that cock was (about 2 inches from my face, and monstrous in those tight jeans - throbbing) and kept plucking away at my bass notes. He grabbed me by the back of my head and buried my face in his glorious crotch and said, "You know you want me. Well, I have news for you... I want you too." Thank god the rest of the band wasn't there - or our girlfriends for that matter - at the time. We were rehearsing a new song progression that I was working out the timing to. Kevin wanted a bit more of a workout...

Anyway, the above image was a design request of his for a tattoo. I tried to give the horse's face a likeness of him, and the moon was his girlfriend at the time. It was easy to do. He reminded me of a horse, so big and graceful. He was beautiful. I added wings and the 'uni-horn' to remind me he was a devilish red headed angel with a temperament to match...

Needless to say, he never got the tattoo - and split up with the girlfriend about a week after our first 'encounter'. We'd done a few mountain treks on the trails together around here (Bake Oven Knob was appropriately named) - and every time it was passionate and rough when we were alone. (just how I've learned to love it.)

He always wanted to have sex with my girlfriend and me (any excuse), and he did weasel his way into bed with us a few times - always making sure he took care of me; but I had to be careful to try not to be alone with him - he was so intense.

He did catch me alone a few more times before the band split up, and just before I moved back to CT. Damn he was so fucking HOT.

The Meme Is Such A Wonderful Theme

It seems to be all around...
From: URS, Tigeryogiji and City Woof
I simply couldn't resist:

What is in the back seat of your car right now?
No backseat (I took it out of the old '95 Bronco) but here's some of what's back there: two tires, 10 old Playboys (I read them for the articles - sure I do - even though my partner gets pissed-off and hides them whenever he can), tons of empty cigarette packs, car jack & crowbars, my trusty knife set, all kinds of tools...

When was the last time you threw up?
Made myself puke 2 weeks ago so I wouldn't get food poisoning when I ate some bad lunch meat (I knew it was bad when the dog wouldn't eat the piece I threw to him)

What’s your favorite curse word?
Motherfucker, Fucker, all the Fuck words...

Name 3 people who made you smile today?
Sorrow, my Sister and, ahhh.... still waiting... It's 2:30pm now...

What were you doing at 8 a.m. this morning?
Taking Butch to the dentist.

What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Watching CNN.

Where were you born?
Bethlehem, and no - not in the stable under a star. The one in PA.

Have you ever been to a strip club?
Used to tend bar in one... (1976 - 1981) Believe me, there are tons of tales about this.

What is the last thing you said aloud?
Fuck.

What is the best ice cream flavor?
Cotton Candy.

What was the last thing you had to drink?
Coffee.

What are you wearing right now?
Tight 501's and a velvety fleece. (Commando)

What was the last thing you ate?
A Turkey & Cheese Sandwich.

Have you bought any new clothes this week?
Not for me, but I got some "gay lingerie" for my two guys... from Undergear.

Where were you last?
In the basement.

What’s the last sporting event you watched?
1981 Super Bowl (XV)

Who won?
Oakland (hehe)

Who is the last person you sent a comment/message while blogging?
Buff

Ever go camping?
Hell yeah. Lots of camping when we were kids.
Used to follow the Grateful Dead and camp out...
I'd be camping out now if I could.
Appalachian Trail is 2 miles from here...

Where do you live?
Very near the Pocono Mountains.

What song are you listening to?
Bang - "Bow To The King"

Do you tan?
Fuck no... I get red as a lobster.

Do you drink your soda from a straw?
Fuck no. Soda???

What did your last text message say?
Who's got money for that type of luxury?

Who’s your best friends?
Butch, Fucker, K-B, Lur and Sister Sorrow (smiles)

What are you doing tomorrow?
Looking for a fucking job.

Where is your mom right now?
Dead.

Look to your right, what do you see?
A candle burning for Sorrow.

What color is your watch?
What watch?

What do you think of when you think of where you live?
Mountains, hiking, old stone houses, trees.

Ever ridden on a roller coaster?
yes, every fucking Day.

What is your birthstone?
Diamond. I'm not cheap, but I sure am easy...

Do you go in at a fast-food place or just hit the drive through?
Inside.

What is your favorite number?
Pi. (it never ends)

Do you have a dog?
Watching one right now. He thinks he's mine... Does that count?

Last person you talked to on the phone?
Fucker.

Have you met anyone famous?
Jane Fonda (I was 17)... a few more since then...

Any plans today?
yes.

How many states have you lived in?
If you count confusion as a state, 5.

Ever go to college?
yes.

Where are you right now?
Upstairs. In the Library with a candlestick.

Biggest annoyance in your life right now?
BU$HCO.

Are you struggling to forgive someone right now?
Struggling?.... NO.

Are you allergic to anything?
Yes.

Favorite pair of shoes?
My Lesbian Sandals ...er... Birkenstocks. I used to love my Earth Boots, but they got left behind in one of the many moves.

Jigsawed Life

How do you fit into the scheme of things?

For me, always on the outside looking in, I just don't. Never have, probably never will... In High School, I was always that loner kid - spending all my free periods in the Art Room. Never in a clique of friends, I always took pride in that. (of course we moved around a lot, so friends were a luxury I could never afford).

But it's lonely. Even now I still long for acceptance, but I know that will never happen. My views being too far out from most people's accepted norms and mores, I guess... I'd love to find just one person that I could relate to en toto.

The last piece of the puzzle that's missing after all the rest are assembled.
It's a bitch looking for that piece, isn't it?



The above portrait sketch of me was done by William Schmidt, a fellow hitch-hiker I met on the road in 1977. I used to hitch-hike a lot when I was younger. That's mainly how I made friends back in those days. Went one time cross-country to California with two other guys (never made it there - and that's another story... turned back in Cheyenne). Anyway, "Schmitty" & I had gone off the road - down a set of railroad tracks, to set up a camp of sorts for the night (I had the only sleeping bag...) - and I happened (as always) to have my sketch pad with me.

Schmitty kept saying how much he loved to watch my face while I was drawing, so I half kiddingly dared him to draw me. He took me up on the dare and drew me by firelight... scary, isn't it?

I was working on this drawing at the time:



I intentionally blurred the message...
Schmitty & I never saw each other again after that next morning... He went North. I was Southbound.
If only we had cell phones back in those days.

Emotion Disclaimer

I do believe that I've pissed off a few friends and relations this week, without that intention. Why? I haven't a clue... Maybe it was in the stars. I'm sorry - but I can't change things that have happened to me in the past. I can only take from the negative and move it in a positive direction.



Truths can be strange and wonderfully uplifting or an ugly burdensome chain that can drag us down to that level of unrecognizable horror. If you decide to lay out the events that changed your life for others to see, be aware that you might lose everything that you've worked so hard to accomplish. It's all up to you in the end...

In Vino Veritas

*********************************
Barkeep, Just Leave The Fucking Bottle... 76 - 77 was a good year.

Rediscovering the old again is hard for me. It brings its ancient wounds along with its lessons learned in youth. I once had a burning passion for the craft. I would take my tools with me everywhere I went in a backpack. They were always handy whenever I had the call to use them. Damn everything else, if an idea came - I'd ride it out. It could hit me at any given moment. Wish I still had that boundless enthusiasm...

I can remember sitting on the curb under a streetlight at midnight, drawing in my trusty sketchpad - glass of wine on the sidewalk - while all my friends were inside Barr's Place or Jersey House drinking and living it up and feeding the jukebox - simply because I got an idea that needed to be put on paper. (or at least I thought so) My friends would laugh. I didn't care what anyone else thought. Driven...



I'd sometimes lose myself for hours on end with nothing but a pencil scratching the paper before me. The vibes are still here, I feel them bubbling away deep inside. I think they are pissed off at me for neglecting them for so many years. Maybe they'll resurface again.



I've lost so many projects over the years, some given - some sold - some destroyed forever... so I cling on to what is left - like an ivy to the brick - in hopes of completing a bridge from the past into the future - which will be the now when it's all said & done. The circle... (or something like that)


Inside the belvedere at "The Arboritum"
[@Temple] I sat - looking up to read:

"He who sits here will always be high."

I have to admit - finding all these old sketches brought the memories flooding back - good & bad - things I hadn't thought about in a very long time. Like a fucking tidal wave of emotion for me.

I could write a fucking book, but what is the use if no one will ever read? Kind of like these drawings shoved away, hidden... Maybe I should have left them there, but to me they are like old pages from a journal in hieroglyphs. Battered friends that return after a secret sojourn to tell you of their travails. These images all mean something - to me at least.

...and so, I'll develop some into paintings - along with other new ideas for this new year... Picking and choosing will be the tempest.

absit invidia

*********************************

Fantasy / Reality ... फंतासी / रियलिटी

==========================
It seems so long ago - almost like a dream.
Like a different Lifetime ago...
Here's another sketch done in Allentown when I lived on 6th Street. The prostitutes used to stand on my front porch. I had them in for tea or hot chocolate a few times on the cold nights. Don't think the Pimps or Police ever knew about that. LOL...

The girls were always very good to me, and I thought it was great to come home to a pleasant hello and hug. (Sometimes more) They were always welcome to stand on my porch out of the elements (I lived alone on the second floor, and 4 of my friends lived upstairs on the third)... Down the street was the old fire-bombed out bar "The Caboose" where some people had lost their lives a few years earlier due to some ridiculous argument. That whole neighborhood is gone now - made way for parking downtown.



When I lived in that apartment, I came home one night and found a naked man passed out in my bathtub. I couldn't revive him and there was some blood smeared around the tub. Frantic, I ran upstairs where there was always a 24-7 party going on. (I had no phone) They told me Tommy was sleeping it off. I went back downstairs only to find, that he was sitting on my bed in the buff and fully erect - waiting for me... I tended his wounds. He cleaned up nicely. I wasn't alone that night either...

[:::]
A truly horrible & unforgettable event from that time - happened next door. I never met my neighbor, I'd only been there about a month by then, but it seemed that she went away for three days and left her baby in the crib. Of course I didn't know that at the time, but I heard a dog constantly growling & barking, and when the Police came around they found that the starving German Shepherd had mauled and half-eaten the baby ... it was very sad. He was only 7 months old. Not even a chance at life. You could probably note the sparrow near the center of this drawing with a 'point seven tag'. That's the reason. I never told that story before.

==========================

Below is another example of the automatic neo-polypsychedlic type drawing from this period. This drawing "Eat In" another study for a painting, was done above a popular Quakertown Restaurant at the time. We had our own little resident artists & musicians group going on up there, and would practice with the band after service hours.



During the day a few of us had jobs downstairs. At night sometimes we'd sneak down there for a drink or some ice cream in the wee hours of the morning. We would figure out some song progressions on the house piano that was in the great hall. Sometimes I'd even get in a jump start on some prep work for the next day. [polishing silverware, or cracking open lobster tails etc...]

I usually had the responsibility of recording everything in the studio until we happened on a friend (we called him "Country") that used to do sound for the keyboard player of Blue Öyster Cult - that's when we had an awesome sound for an amateur band... Ahh those were the days. Always something creative in the mist. I learned much about recording sound from him. I had a bad thing for his girlfriend Kat. She was a sexy little DeadHead who was always flirting. They tried to get me into a threesome once, but Country never really turned me on that way. Believe me, I've had my share of threeways though... never gender relevant, and never initiated by me...

We had a great time until our lead singer was arrested for murder sometime in early 1978, which really happened to be a 'self-defense drug situation' that the judge saw in a different light. He's still in jail to this day serving Life without Parole. Fucking Lawyers & Judges. We all still miss you C-D, and we all kind of lost the heart to go on playing as a band without you. K-B and I get together for "jam sessions" still. We've been writing original material for over 30 years now... and K-B still corresponds with C-D.

I had this thing for T-P, who was the keyboard and percussion genius of the band, but he disappeared sometime in late 1978 for years. He was K-B's Brother, and disowned his whole family (there were 10 kids in that family if memory serves). He showed up years later for K-B's ill-fated Wedding, to act as Best Man - then disappeared again for 10 more years. Finally saw him again 2 years ago, but the magic was gone. He still looked good though. I often wonder if that little band couldn't have been something great.

During practice sometimes I'd drift off to the corner and sketch. The above study is from one of those times.

Exploring New Realms

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm practically dying to find out more about the KRINK products, but it seems that there is no one I can find to discuss them with me... I've tried calling stores here on the East Coast to no avail. Art Stores have no clue. I just get a resounding "Huh???" on the fucking telephone. I suppose graffiti art is still not accepted into the 'sacred art circle'...

Truthfully though, one guy from Dick Blick that I talked with on the phone was so interested we ended up talking for about 20 minutes... He actually went online to look up the product for me. Maybe I've hit on something.



I think graffiti is even more relevant today than it was in the early days when I was a bit of a train car / subway / new & old construction scribbler. I'd spray paint my icons under cover of the night, sometimes involving a ritual or two before & after. What a Fucking little Vandal I was...

Found this place in NYC near the Village, and I suppose I'll have to go up there to actually see the product and find out if 'my vision' of what can be done with it will fit into my plans for the canvasses I'm contemplating. Oh well... a trip to New York seems to be in order for me. Maybe I'll hit the Museums and visit Fucker while I'm up there. Crosstown to Brooklyn.... not too far. I'd love to sit in on an episode of Conan O'Brien, but I wouldn't ever contemplate crossing a Writer's Picket Line to satisfy my own curiosities.

It's been quite a few years since I made the NYC scene. I suppose much change has happened since 9-11-01. Haven't actually walked the streets in the Village since the mid-eighties, (Gay Pride Parade 1985) and I suppose it's about time.

I actually lived in the Village in 1967 with some friends for 3 months - when the Twin Towers were still in the construction stages, it sure would be a hoot to go back and visit the old homestead - now that I'm over all that old major shit that happened to me back in the day... It was pretty devastating at the time. It's surprising that I'm still here to talk about it. You know what they say:
"Whatever doesn't Kill You..."

I'm ready after 40 years ...and to think it's all because of a new medium that I'd love to explore. This actually blows my fucking mind.
Creative Sparks Akimbo... awaiting my next move.

More Projects For The New Year

............................................

This first drawing was done looking from my window on the second floor at the American Hotel where I lived upstairs and tended bar downstairs at the time; on July 4th, 1976. This was one of three drawings I did that day to celebrate the Bicentennial of America. All originally done in blue ball-point pen and red india dragonsblood carmine on bleached hemp sketch paper.



The wench I lived with at the time was continually running me ragged, and sketching was my means of escape. Between the dancing girls & serving rowdy biker patrons downstairs - and the bitch I lived with upstairs, there was always a constant battle going on. Patricia was a lunatic needle-scratching drug addict, and it was all I could do to keep my eye on her. Many of the dancers were in the same boat as Pat, and I was always being accused of getting blow-jobs in the Ladies Room - but everyone knew that all the best drugs were to be found in there.

Patricia was a gorgeous blond - what a waste. We met hitch hiking, the sex was white-hot (she was built like a brick shit-house) and I thought it was kismet - until I really got to know her. Her temper & labia were constantly flaring. I'm so glad those days are over... I don't know how I ever survived all that bullshit.

Don't ever think you might handle being "involved" with a junkie - that you might help change anyone in that particular lifestyle's perspective on life... It is a deathwish. Get the hell out of Dodge while you still have some semblance of sanity. In a 'Love vs Drugs' scenario, Drugs will win out 99% of the time. Those aren't very good odds. That person has to want to change. Then there is Hope.

There's a great big fat story that goes along with all of this, but I promised not to bore my readers.
(if there are any out there - LOL)

............................................

This next drawing is mixed media and was done to remember Bob Marley. When I heard the news of his death, I was deeply saddened, and this was my way of paying a bit of tribute to him:



I still miss Bob, and will always have great respect and affinity for the message he so proudly brought us through his music.

He died on May 11, 1981 - and this drawing was completed the next day.

"Reggae Apocalypso" (1981)
Here are the true colors: