|Hi, How Are You?
||[May. 3rd, 2006|11:07 am]
i have been in asheville for a few days now and let me tell you...
rachael and liz and tom are the ultimate hosts -- we have been drinking red wine, making paper mache things, smoking weed, playing apples to apples and the dr. laura game, fucking, eating mushrooms, playing in the woods, protesting, seeing puppet shows, eating incredibly delicious sandwiches and coffee, reading and writing poetry... what else...
while i was tripping through the ancient starry dynamos unfelt by squares, liz unleashed this unreal place on me -- bad dargan and i will be living there for a few weeks - playing musics, eating psychadelics, and admiring one another. this place is a huge forest preserve with a) a frisbee golf course in the thick of the woods b) poisonous butch lesbos and dykes c) railroad tracks next to a river next to an abandoned insane asylum. we stayed there until i started coming down and liz was worn out from baby sitting me - then we went to the car and i ate more mushrooms. here is the best part -- next october, the city is going to bulldoze this paradise and build... an armory! i think brad and i shall stay there and live in a tent and play protest songs for the folks that are in the know -- we will promote the showtimes and address and what not - then we will fucking play acoustic folk-fuck songs. it shall be totally radical, and we will probably get some coverage from the fifty local activist newsletters. who knows -- maybe some other musicians will join us - liz can sing alright and rachael played piano for ten years, cello for six, and she has a dope accordian she got for a penny. oh yea - she is fucking hot too...
i saw this sweet dude with no shirt on mowing his lawn -- he was brian's (liz's boyfriend) neighbor, he lives at home with his mom, and he is the typical toothless southern mr. nonsense. aparently he has a brother who is an alcoholic and a father in prison -- his name is danny.
what else... we saw bread and puppet -- the oldest independant touring puppet show. they are a group from glover, vermont - and i was honestly fucking blown away. first things first - they tour the country and sell cheap art and bread (this is how they get money to fuel their bus and to eat). in total, there were about 10 or 12 young men and women touring right now (all about 20 - 25 years old). they get into town, set up an oven, start cooking bread, and then do an hour long puppet show. the show was HEAVY!
first they did a silly opening with a marching band and goofy instruments. then they fucking hit us hard -- there were 2 towers, and then this totally creepy puppet that looked like a dead woman slowly walked out pushing a creeking baby stroller. she had a nametag - Truth; the baby stroller said "Population." she walked the cart into the towers, then started screaming as all the other members ran out with loud ass pots and pans... then two tears started to drip from the towers. then they went into a half hour take on how the government comprimises the truth and then scares folks with it, until they later pick a reason to go to war from the clouds (only to later brush it under a rug)... i cant even remember some of the stuff -- but it was free, it was satirical, and we talked to them afterwards -- liz and rachael are starting a puppet club at UNCA (that is why we have been paper mache-ing!)
what else... i met some gals that dig poetry and then we went to this spray painted alley and a hole-in-the-wall called The Writers Block. it is just an apartment that has a stage and a projector and a kitchen and a bunch of artists hanging out. a jamaican dude named Ras played some songs, then i smoked weed with him. then a dj started spinning while a vj started projecting awesome visuals -- all the girls there were doing crazy aura dances through the dancefloor - pretty sexy shit. after the dancing came the words. we read for about a half hour. the best poet was this girl named rebecca - she asked for some themes, then just improvised a ten minute piece. oh yeah - there was free soup and bread there too.
speaking of soup and bread - maybe i have been too stoned, but all of the food in asheville is so delicious. the coffe shops, the greenlife markets, the downtown vendors, the mexican food... speaking of mexicans -- perhaps some of you saw the first annual "May 1st March for Immigrants" on monday. here in asheville, i strapped on my mandolin and walked with about 4,000 people yelling things like "Si Se Puedes! (Yes we Can!)" and singing folk songs that liz and i arranged before going there (this land is our land, i aint got no home in this place anymore, and an original about migrant farmers -- liz's boyfriend is a latin studies major and really cares about the farmers and their rights. he just finished college on monday and is now going to costa rica to start a job that even i would consider having! he will be giving tours of volcanoes a few days a week - with the rest of his time he is housed and recieves money for food and he can leave and come back to the states at any point... oh - they are paying for his airfare both ways too!) so the protest was unreal -- there were some great points made by the speakers and musicians, such as this loosely paraphrased piece of perspective: Immigrants have always been a problem here in the US -- ask any native american!
ok, i have a headache and i need to kiss rachael's earlobe now... i come home tomorow and don't worry -- li po made the trip and is doing well - he ate a cricket after three fucking days of controlled starvation.
i know i am forgetting like a day or two of eventful stuff, but that is what drogas do to the brainmachine...
we saw a fre