return of the thaw

if you happen to find yourself down and out in san luis obispo on september 26th, make your way over to traditional tattoo on foothill to check out some new paintings by the author. sustenance!

summer inhabitants #1

krifka



ashley

college pains

until recently, I always thought growing pains was a disease that affected only one man in the universe, that man being the magnificent but tragically contagious kirk cameron. in the sitcom of a lifetime, cameron heroically portrayed a whimsical child that dealt with the daunting process of aging in his younger years, but what cameron didn’t realize at the time of signing with this role was that these growing pains would follow him for the rest of his life, with or without his companion, aka dad, alan thicke. although growing pains took an eternal rest from television fame in 1992, the pains continue to take their toll on cameron to this day in the form of an ever-evolving forehead. poor cameron’s helpless cranium keeps rocketing skyward like an extra from the movie coneheads, and to no avail, it is still growing painfully.
i used to look at this situation from a safe distance, thinking to myself that it only occurred to the rarest of hollywood prodigies, but alas, in my naivety, it has begun its own death march in my life. as i step up to the final standoff of me versus the cal poly bachelors program, i realize that i too am subject to the disposal of aging like sweet kirk cameron is. i can never more walk across this campus and get excited at the sight of a lucy’s juice bar, for i have drank too many in my past five years. nor can i walk into the kennedy library with anticipation of riding the elevator up and down the floors for 15 minutes straight, like many bright eyed and bushy tailed freshman may be able to do, for i know how many people have copulated in these transport devices. you see, my trusty kcpr volunteer essay reader, i have long passed the threshold of young unadulterated college excitement here at cal poly. so as i march towards the football field at the far westerly corner of campus for graduation, i beg of you, let me feel the young winds behind my sails again, let me know what it is like to ride the kcpr schooner across the fountain of youth. for you see dear reader, i, much like kirk cameron, now know what these growing pains are, and in the final days of my collegiate career, i need to bury these pains of the adult world before they bury me, blue collar and all.

the thaw

hibernation is coming to an end. hope everyone is well. kate nakamura and i will be exhibiting our work june 6th at the venue formerly known as the dwelling. if you have wondered, 'what ever happened to that poor wilhelm child ?' then this is the answer as to why i have been MIA for the past two quarters. kate does sculptural installations and drawings and i, well, i cover my body in oil paint and ask the teacher if i can leave class early. anyways, here is the poster we conjured up. inspired by ol' rodchenkski himself. come on down friday night and join us for some art and friends. hope to see you there.

go ride a bicycle

with friends for mas fun

port of the land

like many land bearing creatures without the ability to sustain a pliable living situation under colder conditions, when it rains, the humanoid tends to find its way to various structures of habit that will supply the humanoid with warmth, sustinance, and even an intellectual stimulation from time to time. while perusing our way through the greater northwest coastal states this weekend, my travel companions and i found ourselves within the gentle grasp of a beautiful region known as portland, oregon. in our temporary residence there, we noticed how these regions were consistently more moisturized than our southernly comfort zones. the light rainfall that settled there seemed to softly nudge us to the focal points of the city, where warmth eminated from within the buildings. downtown portland swayed like an ebbing tidepool, back and forth the rain escorted us out of the streets, whilst the indoors wooed us towards their presence. like the dust covered moths we travelers were, we fluttered aimlessly until confronted by the brightest luminescence to grace our eyes. delicately bumping and shuffling until huddled inside, we shed ourselves of our soggy coats only to find we had stumbled upon the dustmop of dustmops itself: powells books! the scent of aged pages eeked its way through the walls of this castle until reaching our nasal olfactory receptacles. nostrils flared, eyes focused, ears perked, the journey into bookdom had begun.
taking up one city block of portland, and rising up four stories above the ground, powells becomes a land much like an oasis; a plentiful source of wonderful attributes, yet there is always a barrier that will not allow for full enjoyment within this paradise.
as mine eyes begun to wheel around the room they rested on certain titles and signs projecting what the rooms contained; 'self help' section, 'pulitzer prize' winners, 'sandwiches for mutes cookbook' sections. my mind galloped through the aisles like an adolescent great dane. slow down marmaduke. i centered my canine chi, and collected my thoughts as i walked past the 'helpless cats that should be eaten by dogs and/or robots 'books section of powells. onward my legs ambled, head and neck turning into a sprinkler. what was that last bright book, maybe i should go back and check it out, it could be a winner. no, move forward, focus. but that one is on sale, i should buy it, oprah would, easy kyle, easy. spinning and spinning, people began to quietly look at me and tuck their kids behind their stable parental legs, whispering the answers of the universe to their seven year olds as i careened down the stairs away from the gawkers. it wasnt until i reached the literature section that i knew something was wrong. sweating profusely by now, one sock long gone to who knows where and clutching with sheer terror to a clump of duck feathers i ran trying to seek refuge close to the floor. for a while there was silence, and faint footsteps became a metronome off in the distance, calming the heart rate until it reached a reasonable pace again. something once again caught my eye even in this maddening state, but this time it wasnt an oprahs book club badge, it was something very different. i raised my head slowly and looked towards the source just as i had when i fluttered towards powells in the first place. the light this time yeilded an unfamiliar face, one of a ghost, a ghost with little words. joseph heller, is that you? what are you doing here? mr. heller looked at me and without a stutter explained to me the secrets of the universe. you see young kyle, he said, for this is the curse of powells; your love for books is infinite, yet when surrounded by all the books in the world you cannot seem to grasp a single book of which you'd like to purchase. i cried a little as he exploited the truth deep within my lungs, loins, and estomago, and then i walked out of powells and down the street and enjoyed me a nice macdonalds half pounder of meat and watched some ultimate fighting championship reruns.

on burritos and liberty

when approached by the situation of being stranded in a specific place for the rest of my life, there are only a few things that i would need to survive: food, water, and a mental capacity to resist specific hallucinatory states over a period of time due lack of human interaction. the latter skill of resisting insanity would take such a toll on ones body and mind that the stranded would need to replenish their glucose levels by introducing systematic regiment of food to their energy converter (gastrointestinal system). taking into consideration that i would be stranded within the confines of a solitary location, my situation would only permit one type of food for the rest of my waking life. and what would this eternally satisfying food take the form of? within the criteria of the situation, the food must be able to provide nutritional value that coincides with the spectrum of healthy living. by stating the term healthy living i hope to corral my food into an all encompassing 'well balanced meal'. let us focus on what we have knocked out in the process of creating these perameters i have set up thus far. first and foremost, vegemite, you are out of here! why, oh why would you kick ye olde vegemite out of the running for the coolest... ahem... excuse me... greatest and most sufficient stranded island food so early in the contest? well let me tell you why compatriots. beginning with the most obvious reason, vegemite is bland and is more boring than the white bread that you spread it on. when you introduce it to a room of new, non-vegemite saavy humanoids, it becomes obnoxious, and creates an interruption in the comfortable lifestyle at hand. the only thing louder than its light hansa yellow label is the taint that it leaves on your mouth after invades your house and leaves a mess behind in your kitchen. if there was one positive characteristic of vegemite, which may or may not exist within reality, it would have to be its cute, malty accent, that seems to make anything it is spread on much 'softer' than if it was ordinary old american margarine.
but hold on their mate, if vegemite isnt the greatest food that you could happily spend the rest of your life with, than what is? well, for one, the greatest food was invented in america, duh, and was assimilated by the mexicans who we stole the whole idea from in the first place. need i proceed with the argument? i need. i need. to all the bogans out there that need it spelled out for them due to their lack of freedom of education throughout childhood, the greatest and most wonderful food in the entire world is the burrito. packed with diverse ingredients, ranging from rice, beans, meats, vegetables, and cheeses, these wondrous blocks of the food pyramid are thrown together into a melting pot created by the hot barrier of a tortilla where they all work in unison to create a wondrous, flavor infused, dining experience. the burrito then goes on to dominate every and all taste buds in its way until it gains total control and domination of the deployment centers for the 'tastes fucking delicious' hormone.
now if you still cant understand the reasoning behind why burritos are not only my deserted island food but also the greatest food ever invented, it may just be due to the fact that you are either australian or that you have no soul.

dont let this happen to your country

listen to milt jackson

vibes

from the grave pt. 3

when confronted with a fear, the human brain has the ability to create situations that transgress the limits of what most may consider reality. in the city of diversity, these byproducts of my cranial activity manifested themselves before my eyes, and became the last things my looking balls would ever process as visual stimuli. in my viewers eyes there may be some loss in the credibility of my words after stating that what i culminated in my mind came to life. so i shall prove to our visually dependent culture that my words are true with the final photographic essay... from the grave. on a side note; as i walk through the valley in the shadow of death, i find it comforting to know that there is wi-fi, because i would be pretty bored in the afterlife without an internet connection, and you wouldn't have this deathly wonderful piece of writing genius to enjoy.

upon return to our prison we wilted our way back into the ever-so-slow process of succumbing to our foreordination. visions of a land in which we ran free within an artistic hotbed had fluttered away as quickly as our desire to live another day in the house on nevins and dean street.

but why? where is the threat? why give up in a city so great as new york? one may ask these questions if one has never been to the land of nevins and dean. for within the confines of this well insulated home holds a danger that i would never have associated with my own blood relatives. and without further adieu, i will open pandoras box in the simplest of terms. my cousins are zombies. and these zombies ate us. and once they ate a walrus. but that is another story for another night.

innocent as it may seem, the relatives seen in this picture were housing us for the sole purpose of quenching their childrens thirst for californian blood. here they are pretending to read, but they were just at the table to make sure we were keeping our flesh pristine by filling our intestinal tracts with foods such as puffins cereal.


while appearing docile, meg creates a special meal that will preserve the flavors of our skin to the utmost degree, and fully satisfy her zombie children.


again, readers may find disbelief in my words after the last two shots, due to the extremely gentle looking hosts, but one cannot deny the words any longer after seeing the zombies themselves.


do not believe for a second that the smaller zombie may have a softer side and can be coerced out of eating your flesh, for she is the most dangerous of them all.

ZOMBIE ATTACK!!!


notice the pure joy of the zombies as they walk away from the killing floor. i snapped this pic off just before rigor mortis compelled my body to take on the characteristics of a fallen willow tree. the zombies saved my upper body for mastication later on when they were hungry again.


and so i say to you dear reader, when traveling to new york, remember to pay your respects and spend three days straight in mourning at the foot of ground zero. or else you too will be wishing you had... from the grave.