http://www.breathingearth.net/
A website that displays the carbon dioxide emission levels of every country in the world, as well as their birth and death rates in real time
http://www.theyrule.net/
maps of corporate connections
http://worldprocessor.com/
mapping world data onto physical globes
cito
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Dream like Broken Clockwork
Sleep at eight,
Sleep at twelve.
Wake at nine,
Wake at twelve.
Between periods
of day-dreaming
and sleep-walking,
I’m dancing, flying, loving, dieing.
Awake
I think of impossible modalities
Asleep
I dream of perfect realities
-J
Sleep at twelve.
Wake at nine,
Wake at twelve.
Between periods
of day-dreaming
and sleep-walking,
I’m dancing, flying, loving, dieing.
Awake
I think of impossible modalities
Asleep
I dream of perfect realities
-J
Drool of Consciousness
Think alone
Never look alone
Never make it on your own
Self-made promise
Self-centered
Change for your change
Watch
Listen
Learn
Make
Destroy
Remake
Destroy hate, destroy bias, destroy beauty
Turn the colors down
Sit in comfort
Simple chair on simple ground
-J
Never look alone
Never make it on your own
Self-made promise
Self-centered
Change for your change
Watch
Listen
Learn
Make
Destroy
Remake
Destroy hate, destroy bias, destroy beauty
Turn the colors down
Sit in comfort
Simple chair on simple ground
-J
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Rite Aid Ruled Writing Tablet
He is not as well spoken
as he is written.
Raindrops, wet snowflakes,
and dank woolen mittens.
An unheard spoken word;
broken words spoke instead:
"Heed, hither, lest you catch cold!
Hither, haste!" Down hill on top sled.
(06/20/05)
Under and through the small boulder arc
speckled and stained on its rain-rounded edges
by moss
and
rusted copper gate and frame.
Black cold iron
rod and wire fence
cuts into the courtyard
making corners and walls with a leafy vine.
Stacked and broken
cinder well
hot, stale, soggy air
lurks and lingers at the bottom.
(?/?/05)
cito
as he is written.
Raindrops, wet snowflakes,
and dank woolen mittens.
An unheard spoken word;
broken words spoke instead:
"Heed, hither, lest you catch cold!
Hither, haste!" Down hill on top sled.
(06/20/05)
Under and through the small boulder arc
speckled and stained on its rain-rounded edges
by moss
and
rusted copper gate and frame.
Black cold iron
rod and wire fence
cuts into the courtyard
making corners and walls with a leafy vine.
Stacked and broken
cinder well
hot, stale, soggy air
lurks and lingers at the bottom.
(?/?/05)
cito
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Creatures
you and me child
are full of life and mystery
full of life and misery
a life full of punditry.
Sarah told me a story of quiet
peace and harmony.
Of trees and night time
lights from the balcony
see us all walking home
yelling from the balcony
our life's stories fighting lust
screaming like we were
dying just to feel like we're alive.
cito
are full of life and mystery
full of life and misery
a life full of punditry.
Sarah told me a story of quiet
peace and harmony.
Of trees and night time
lights from the balcony
see us all walking home
yelling from the balcony
our life's stories fighting lust
screaming like we were
dying just to feel like we're alive.
cito
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
10 a.m.
At 10 he said
and so she did.
A.M. he said
and so she did.
awake at 10
A.M. she might
To tell him 10,
A.M. at night.
(07/05/2001)
cito
and so she did.
A.M. he said
and so she did.
awake at 10
A.M. she might
To tell him 10,
A.M. at night.
(07/05/2001)
cito
Barratone
slow motive
panic in red
a speared tongue.
a cry
a shoot and a miss
a throw and a kiss -
to my, to the - an army could.
remember a ripple,
only blue -
no less than red.
fall on down
cradle through the tree
watching from a window
reverse a blink and
a tear -
a lake on my lace
a heart on my lace
"Only in being!"
the scholars yell -
"barratone"
"barratone"
the lace sings
a melody
mellowly
"barratone"
"barratone"
(03/31/2001)
cito
panic in red
a speared tongue.
a cry
a shoot and a miss
a throw and a kiss -
to my, to the - an army could.
remember a ripple,
only blue -
no less than red.
fall on down
cradle through the tree
watching from a window
reverse a blink and
a tear -
a lake on my lace
a heart on my lace
"Only in being!"
the scholars yell -
"barratone"
"barratone"
the lace sings
a melody
mellowly
"barratone"
"barratone"
(03/31/2001)
cito
On Geese:
duck duck goose
and slightly confused
ringing round the sun
counting hula hoop rules
a book full of rules
and sparkle confetti
holding troop by rules
fair strong with the tide
full front step to stepping wide
dear, fair strong like Eqyptian holy light
cito
and slightly confused
ringing round the sun
counting hula hoop rules
a book full of rules
and sparkle confetti
holding troop by rules
fair strong with the tide
full front step to stepping wide
dear, fair strong like Eqyptian holy light
cito
Monday, September 1, 2008
On Snakes:
God damn there's always a safe way
to pull shit back together and in
Houses, we lived three streets apart.
Racing tied feet backwards to get back to the start
of the evening our suns were rising fast
And all the trees and ants were singing
marching us to flag staffs and hard beats
Timing just correctly favors from our friends.
We were all back at school - thought I'd never
see you again, homeboy, my friends.
Talk to me in circles 'cause my music was square
Where was I?
when we were still young
I won't be bored
when I break everything in this room
Embarrassed and crazy finder, chase me with a gun
hide and go seek the snakes all under rocks.
sleepy time steaming tea in the morning
Timing,
real bad timing
cito
to pull shit back together and in
Houses, we lived three streets apart.
Racing tied feet backwards to get back to the start
of the evening our suns were rising fast
And all the trees and ants were singing
marching us to flag staffs and hard beats
Timing just correctly favors from our friends.
We were all back at school - thought I'd never
see you again, homeboy, my friends.
Talk to me in circles 'cause my music was square
Where was I?
when we were still young
I won't be bored
when I break everything in this room
Embarrassed and crazy finder, chase me with a gun
hide and go seek the snakes all under rocks.
sleepy time steaming tea in the morning
Timing,
real bad timing
cito
Sunday, August 31, 2008
july 1st, 2008 10:22pm
i am more aware of existing. sounds are heard and they dictate my thoughts, pleasantly bringing the awkward.
conversations nowhere, while my mind has been in the depths of space. more interested in the people than there words. there habits formed in some distant past, lead there lives.
no mind is untouched. every awkward moment adds up and builds. our flaws more defined.
its hard to change/progress.
we are quick to suggest change for others but when i need change there is fear, but perhaps change must come on its own. we have to let change happen naturally.
being open to free thought will push your mind and something that was there before will come out. the flow of time allows growth. the thought of your past experiences enhance your being. you realize where you went wrong and expand.
we are ever changing, and always different.
- -
conversations nowhere, while my mind has been in the depths of space. more interested in the people than there words. there habits formed in some distant past, lead there lives.
no mind is untouched. every awkward moment adds up and builds. our flaws more defined.
its hard to change/progress.
we are quick to suggest change for others but when i need change there is fear, but perhaps change must come on its own. we have to let change happen naturally.
being open to free thought will push your mind and something that was there before will come out. the flow of time allows growth. the thought of your past experiences enhance your being. you realize where you went wrong and expand.
we are ever changing, and always different.
- -
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Art 207 Project #3 - Final Product
i changed my project idea from Skinny Dipping Aftermath to Clarice and the Diving Board
that water was so fucking gross, i don't blame her for not wanting to jump
[special thanks to Robin for naming the lady in orange]
cito
that water was so fucking gross, i don't blame her for not wanting to jump
[special thanks to Robin for naming the lady in orange]
cito
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Life Is Chaos: The Theory of Sound
Friday, May 9, 2008
Art 207 Project #3 Proposal
this is my proposal for our woodshop project
I chose this site because it is right next to a disc golf course that is very scenic. I went there with the intention of finding a cool tree for my original idea of making a giant root that would transform into a human arm. I then recalled that when you and I spoke, you essentially suggested that I do something less complicated and conceptual. As I walked near the water I found that every 30 feet or so there were groups of big rocks. Here, I imagined I might have seen on a less cloudy day, father and son casting line into the creek. Maybe there could have been a solitary amateur on his lunch break. My mind wandered. I soon concluded that no fish would willingly frequent such murky water – or at least no school large enough to be happened upon by this lonely fisherman. His only option, I decided, would have been to hop out of his business casual and hop in to the bog before him.
I have not yet determined whether he had done this for the thrill of catching a fish with his bare hands or if he simply wanted to cool off. For my project I wish to portray the scene directly following one’s decisive abandon and consequent leap into uncertainty. Leaning on the first two rocks will be a stranded fishing rod. Then, a trail of lost clothes leading to the water’s edge.
I chose this site because it is right next to a disc golf course that is very scenic. I went there with the intention of finding a cool tree for my original idea of making a giant root that would transform into a human arm. I then recalled that when you and I spoke, you essentially suggested that I do something less complicated and conceptual. As I walked near the water I found that every 30 feet or so there were groups of big rocks. Here, I imagined I might have seen on a less cloudy day, father and son casting line into the creek. Maybe there could have been a solitary amateur on his lunch break. My mind wandered. I soon concluded that no fish would willingly frequent such murky water – or at least no school large enough to be happened upon by this lonely fisherman. His only option, I decided, would have been to hop out of his business casual and hop in to the bog before him.
I have not yet determined whether he had done this for the thrill of catching a fish with his bare hands or if he simply wanted to cool off. For my project I wish to portray the scene directly following one’s decisive abandon and consequent leap into uncertainty. Leaning on the first two rocks will be a stranded fishing rod. Then, a trail of lost clothes leading to the water’s edge.
cito
Thursday, May 8, 2008
portrait of a young artist
from a recognition of irony and absurd-
when the instilled and enforced turned in on themselves
began constantly confounding themselves before our eyes
falsifying and falling from their hypocrisy-
from here the germ spread
from the forever fuck you of entrenched ideas
from the turning of jesus and buddha into kings and gods
from the chains of dogma, doctrine, discipline-
those chains that for so long numbed and bruised our limbs and minds
and force fed us ghosts of grandeur and knowing
those fools who won’t tell you that holiness is everywhere
that the cosmos can dance between every breath
an unconscious, anti-instinctual urge away from these falsehoods:
away from that evolutionary, animal willing towards security, power
that constant sprint through the day
a race through existence to get to those two tv hours each night
your filthy consumerism,
and that insatiable thirst for fructose and diet cola
when will you get your fill of synthetic pleasures?
your tit jobs make me sick.
after all isn’t 2012 rising?
isn’t quetzaquotal coming, raining apocalypse
and the aquarian age of enlightenment?
against also this naïve elitism.
I want to jump at life and seize its madness
before the hellfires burn beneath my feet.
I want to seize non-knowing and relish in its beauty now
because “It takes a long time to understand nothing.”
Forever towards uncertainty
praised be poverty praised be creation
Forever towards novelty
praised be beauty improvisation and lemonade
forever towards experiment, forever towards experiment,
and praised be this perpetual flower
forever towards experiment
-dhani mallon
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Art 207 Project #2
for this guy we had to pick a figure from Bosch's The Garden of Earthly Delightsthis was constructed from cardboard and hot glue
as you can tell from the original figure depicted in the painting, i took some liberties in creating the tepee in order to make the piece a bit more interesting
i can't even tell you how many hours this took because by the fourth all-nighter i pulled, i completely lost concept of time
cito
Art 207 Project #1
we pieced together terracotta clay pressings to make a single form of at least 18 inches
my thing dried way too fast and ended up breaking in the middle just as i was finishing up
i had an overall idea of what i wanted it to look like but i also allowed it to grow into itself instead of planning every inch
very fun stuff
it was my first time working with clay
loving and leaving,
cito
my thing dried way too fast and ended up breaking in the middle just as i was finishing up
i had an overall idea of what i wanted it to look like but i also allowed it to grow into itself instead of planning every inch
very fun stuff
it was my first time working with clay
loving and leaving,
cito
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