Midwest Road Dogg Trail Mix

Like Willy Nelson, I'm on the road again. I've got a big trip ahead of me. St. Paul to Indiana then Indiana to Vermont. Sumn like 24 hours total. I've had a lot of great road trips and have very fond memories of the people, places, mixtapes and landscapes along the way.

I've also enjoyed some great food and am a connoisseur of road snacks. Below is a very precise recipe for something known as a "Midwest road dogg trailmix". I actually just made that name up and I've only really done this once. Traveling does weird things to you.

1. Stop by a greasy spoon diner anywhere along the way.
2. Order what ever you but include some kind of sampler or share a bunch of deep fired food with your travel companions.
3. Take the leftovers in a doggie bag (an actual bag is best).
4. Shake, throw in the back seat for 1-3 hours.
5. Dig out doggie bag from mound if CDs, clothes items and promotional materials.
6. Enjoy in responsible moderation.

not religious

New piece from April. I wrote it specifically to bring sumn new to the EQ show at the Loft on 10th and Washington. EQ is curated by Bao Phi and it's the best spoken word series I've ever experienced. I was humbled and honored to participate and perform with some truly great poets and genuinely good people. 

I can probably workshop this piece a little, but I feel like I've waited long enough to post it. I hope you feel it. Thanks for reading.

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“I’m not religious, I’m spiritual.”

I respect that (and I would say I’ve said that but…I say that)

what does that mean though?

What does it mean that we feel good when we get high?

Empty when we breath slow?

What does it mean when we just get to feel good about whatever selfish habits and careless emotions we whim because we are just so into ourselves?

Does it mean that we are so in love with the idea that we exist that every fragile step of our narcissism is in exultation of our very own presence? (Cuz that’s kind of what some of these folks look like, right?)

what is that? What is spiritual And Why don’t we know?

Why can granola spirituality be just as hallow as regurgitated dogma?

Is it because we don’t know who we are? Is it because we are not encouraged to give a fuck? That our spiritual leaders are so into themselves that when we ask questions all they really hear is the echo of their own ego?

might it have anything to do with our own lack of imagination?

Maybe spirituality is imagination is inspiration is action is reality.

I am not religious…

I am eyes on a heart beat walking to the horizon (cuz if I can see it I can get there)

A compass with closed eyes (I am exactly where I’m supposed to be)

Blind darkness in a dream’s basement facing a gruesome ghost (because spirituality is not just feeling good for the sake of ignoring a gaping pain)

I am hope like the grip of a flare gun

A shamanic dreamscape where I met god in the sky and man on a stake

A white shroud covering my anxiety

A voice in the sky telling me to find my family…not matter what

to not get involved with the dying of a false prophet

a war against shadow

and flooding moment of light from the throat of a tortured soul aflame

released cool blue by someone who gave a fuck

I am…someone who gives a fuck

collecting and dropping seeds trying to keep some water and sunshine on hand…

just hoping they break earth…just hoping I break earth…

just hoping I can grow from, through, beyond myself,

splitting open from the inside and pushing against the weight of static earth

despite the ubiquitous pressure and feel some sun…

yawning, opening my eyes for the first time,

looking around and seeing some familiar faces.

"Papa", For Fathers Day

Here's a song for fathers day in honor of the crazy men who raise or at least contributed to our genetic make up. For better or for worse, they contribute to who we are, and without them we wouldn't be here. Existing at all is a great opportunity, no matter what challenges we face. So, thanks Papa. You've given me everything. Even if at times it's been more than I'd care for. No regrets, just gratefulness.

My dad's story isn't always pleasant or fun to talk about, but it's his story and it's part of mine. This is a piece dealing with a lot of the darker shades of my family's history, with moments of great light. While his struggle continues, as does that of my family, I always look to the light and urge us all to grow beyond our history, make our lives our own and to find peace.

My Papa is hilarious, adventurous and a consummate smart ass. These are traights I'm proud to have taken from him. I sing this song as a sort of catharsis but also as a prayer for his powerful light and for my family as a whole. I also sing this in honor of him and in thanks for my life. Gracias, Papa.

Here's to all our Father's this Fathers' Day, and to all the sons and daughters who have the ability to take who their parents, forefathers and ancestors are and were, to the next level.

Thanks for reading, listening and thinking.

"who built this house, Frank Lloyd WRONG?!"

Happy Birthday, Frank Lloyd Wright! 

(June 8, 1867 – April 9, 1959)

"the greatest American architect of all time", American Institute of Architects

 A Midwestern man with a plan... a Floor plan. But really, I find a lot of poetry in the works of this great WI born, Midwest wandering, architect. So much so, that I liken a lot of my work as a hip hop artist, as a person and even as a visual artist in a way, to his approach to architectural design. The idea of building in light to your structure, building in concert with, not over nature and detailing a thematic structure from the inside out. Those are big ideas and fine principles, and I think they're applicable to all aspects of art and life.

I could go on and on, in fact, I did...I wrote a song by his name on my latest album, Architextual Design. Produced by my brother Nye, It's a sort of frenetic, shamanic dream where his principles in architecture become laws of nature to reveal my ideals on art, education, community and spirituality. You should listen and enjoy it a thousand times over, and LOUD. Bump it through the summer streets.

Top ten things to do when the world HASN'T ended

in no particular order:

1. Stop being such an asshole.
2. Apologize to your boss and ask for your old job back.
3. Buy a new bike.
4. Go camping.
5. Make plans; lots of plans.
6. Travel at any cost.
7. (2 for 1) Keep recycling and contribute to a community organization.
8. Renew your membership to public radio.
9. Apologize to anyone you may have terrified with the news of our horrifying, imminent end.
10. Leave your crazy-ass church.

Number one thing to not do:
At all costs, DO NOT wait around a few more months for the world to end again.