Went to the hills Saturday, my girlfriend's cousin was skiing up there in Copper Mountain. They were staying up in some cabin in Silverthorne . . . I went up there alone, Kate was working. And the worst part was this Ann girl. She, blonde, in law school.

I was attracted to her.

But, you see, I'm "in a relationship."

And the whole scene was torturous.

And I could have been a lawyer!

was at the back cracker (chiropractic) this morn...
a family was there too.
i overheard the dad say he was a youth pastor for a church in wellington.

i couldn't help feel all guilty.
this crew was just so (NON EARTH) with no desire to express themselves here.
they were fat, and wearing regular old clothes, and the kids were sloppy, and snot running down the nose and all.

and they were, you know, weak. and still beautiful and i had complete respect. but i couldn't help feeling judged... me being alive and expressive and full of this juice.

this juice. this juice.... and I mean salvation, i mean if you're saved, then what, then you go to a ghostly church in wellington and preach the word all the live long day...

and where is this essay going? i haven't the strength to say. i mean who has the strength to say what i was feeling hanging out with this family... who i was judging so much ... who i felt like a complete, sick, evil bastard around.

i remember back in '01 or '02. i was in san fran, making all the rounds, flaking out in that flake flake town. i became buddies with the guy who started blogger.com, he was one of the cats (at least in the front scene) responsible for all this blogging craze.

anyway, let me start back a little earlier. even before i met this guy, the blog I had at the time was a "blog-of-note" on this blogger.com site.

'course this was way before EVERYBODY knew what a blog was. But anyhow, my website got like 10,000 visits a day and I was a celebrity and all and it was cool. but the gig was up when i started to give a shit, and obsess over every little word i would write. i mean they weren't paying me. and the stuff was good. it was real good. it was poetry and brilliance. and the whole idea of just whoring it out.

don't know how all that started . . . .

the fine details booked events coming up ::
mugs south, march 15th
starry night, may 1st
everyday joe's, june 1st

be on the lookout for the art of kEith (sTore) online merchandise for you and your friends. Coming Very Soon. Cool Cool Stuff

[sales disclaimer :: seriously. i am an artist, for real, and every single dollar you support me with absolutely contributes to the culture of these times. the movement we seek. and the health of the land, it's children, and our souls.]

So be on the lookout for the e-shop, and buy, buy, buy.

and gosh all is so bountiful, and colorful, and BIG.

i had this vision of fort collins with painters all frolicking around, of course the name of this place had changed, gone with fort collins.... and these beautiful courageous alive painters were CREATING.... and it was good.

the time has yes come to finally do what we ought to do
to say what we ought to say
to live how we ought to live
to be how we ought to be
the great grand road ahead (circa 2006)

oh cronicled honey suckle
and cheney whipping fools
this anry dilema
is aenough to call the cow home
be gone foolish nymph
and happy child
hello dolly
and franken pile ....

chronicals of the struggling xy vers 1.1.12

xy had had enough. walking through chicago's midway, the book store, with it's selection of Dan Brown spiritual ripoffs . . . .

the sinking sludge of humanity rests
on the righteousness of hero mcWilson

"oh mcWilson. share your secrets. help our fragile people."

"I will," said mcWilson. "But first let me enjoy this pepporoni sandwich."

in art we do what the oppresor hates.

a cushy journal entry [on occasion of years past]

it looks like it's about to rain, maybe even snow outside. thank god.
i almost forgot why i live here all tucked away in the mountains.

And I've just felt like I've had enough of it.
You know. [how could you know]

I mean this ride is taking so long.

And now it's going to Rain, maybe even snow.

And if my girl were here, maybe we'd curl up, you know.

more school, digital