Tag Archives: Time

The Porch Swing: Good Fishing

Good Fishing, by Samuel Bostick.

This week we’re proud to bring you the latest in Samuel’s WORD of the Day creative writing series, which he has recently expanded into an ongoing project running independently from Time and Space and other Porch Swing material we publish here at the LIFESTYLE. You can find Samuel’s daily WORD installations over at his blog, just.the.basics, along with a collection of various inspirations, explorations, reflections, and responses. Check the beautifully crafted Good Fishing below, and head on over to just.the.basics to keep up on the daily!

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

13 December

Wonder n. 1) A cause of astonishment or admiration. 2) The quality of exciting, amazed admiration. 3) Rapt attention or astonishment at something awesomely mysterious or new to one’s experience. 4) A feeling of doubt or uncertainty.

WORD of the Day: Wonder

On days like this, there is always a deeper lesson to learn. An introspective venture…

Good Fishing

Rowing through ponds, up quiet streams and navigating through hidden currents just to get to that one corner where the moonshine pours down upon the water in a way that gets the fish a-jumpin for a bite to eat! Still hours, reflection on character and trait. Laughing to yourself at memories tucked away into the folds of the mind. Admiring the Beauty of the night, the peaceful serene situation it sets. Jus chillin. The world was left back about two creek bends and a quarter mile of steady rowing. Here. Off in the backwoods, south of worries and a bit north of stress…yeah this is good fishing.

Moon moves across the sky, takes a quick peak into the clouds as they drift—lofty in flight…stars dancing soft sifting as the water kisses against the bank and rocks rhythm into the boat. Scenic Romancing. Mental preoccupations flow with the current, sent adrift. Baiting the hook, winding up stretching back and letting it all Fly….the last leaves falling off the trees along the bank; drifting, floating, a whirl and spin—clean landing and a ripple of applause spreads across the sight…what a peaceful perusing night.  Wandering through the mind as the stream tugs gently on the line. Reflection, the moon in the pond.

Young again, running into things, tied towels become superhero capes. Back when broccoli, carrots and lettuce (hell anything green or healthy) was nothing more than rabbit food. Flowing streams sing the tune of nostalgia.

Push…

It opens

Creaking eerie, rusty round the seams

Heavy, yet it swings open with ease

Ive been here before, still

This seems estranged

Only remember vague, through opaque haze

Dusty hands from pushing the door

Rub them off into heavy denim

Thas what they are for

Stepping in, this is one

Eerie place

Still

I’ve been here before…

Vaguely familiar

The walls covered in papers and news clippings

All dusty and yellowed by stale air

…stale air

A portrait against the wall, resting in the corner of the room

Unknown

Seemingly familiar

Like, I know her before yet somehow forgot

Her look returns the same sentiment

Misplaced yet not lost…

Dark rosy cheeks crest the ends of her smile

Yes

Beautiful indeed

She moves me

A rare elegance…

It’s a pity she has forgotten

And even more so that I’ve neglected to remember

A chest…next to the portrait…

Inside there is…

******

Maps rest upon the desk settled into the opposite side of the room

Shelves full of books

Heavy, hard-bound books

“The Odyssey”

An unfinished letter

                        ODDly…

                                                The ink is still wet

HOWL…a wolf cries under the moon

“Into the night I send my sights in hope that one day this sorrow takes flight.

With passion to love, I care  not to hate/ still often come times that I question my soul’s eternal fate.

Tonight there is no moon to sing my heart swoon/ as my heart wishes to dance a divine sweet romance.

As the howl that which lands chills to your veins/ I pray to the stars and call to the night with surrender of pains.

This night my soul takes wings to escape its capture in cage/yea though until its release it sings and drums to subdue epic rage.

Into the night.”

HOWL…again, this time he brings you back,

Back on the creek where the fishing is good…

nibble…nibble…

no tug, jus a nibble

What a Beautiful Night

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: Time and Space

Time and Space: Entry V, by Samuel Bostick.

“Time and Space. This catalog is an expressive venture into time and space. This has been a theme heavy on my mind, especially making the transition from life in Atwater, CA to Brooklyn. Yes, a second is always a second, but nonetheless, a minute in Atwater is very different than a New York minute. It’s crazy! It seems the best way to put it in short is that TIME and SPACE are measures of presence. Even writing this now, I know it’s further and deeper than that. Hope you enjoy the ride…”

– Samuel

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

Time and Space, Entry Five

A Timely Rant

Feels like I never have the time…

NO TIME TO NEITHER SIT DOWN AND DO THIS NOR DO THAT,

I DON’T HAVE TIME TO PLEASE NO TIME TO EAT NO TIME TO SLEEP

THAT’S THE MATTER OF FACT!

TRADITION IS A GHOST

TIME STEADY CHANGING

ZONAL REARRANGING COAST TO COAST, PORT TO PORT

AS THE WORLD SPINS SO DOES MY HEAD

CONSEQUENTLY IVE LOST MY MIND SOMEWHERE IN THE TIMELINE

THE BIT OF SANITY LEFT JUST GOT SPENT, THAT WAS THE OUTSTANDING COST OF THIS MONTHS RENT

TIME

WHY DON’T THEY CALL IT TALE CAUSE IT SEEMS SO FALSE, AN AWEFUL WICKED SPELL THE WAY IT SWAYS THE EARTH HOLDING DAYS AT RANSOM

MOVING FROM NOW TILL… NOW, HOW MUCH TIME DOES THAT TAKE?

WHY CAN’T IT JUST STOP!!!

JUST FOR ONE MINUTE!

LET ME BE!

TIME THIS, TIME THAT…

TIME OF DAY, TIME OF YEAR, TIME OF YOUR LIFE AND MINE THE SAME

A COUNT DOWN FOR THE ROAST, BUZZING—READY

A TIME TO CRY A TIME TO DIE

CYNDI LAUPER’S SINGING, CELL PHONES RINGING

AND THAT RENT SONG…

500 25THOUSANDS…50025THOUSAND 6HUNDRED MINUTES

HOW BOUT SEASONS OF…PRODUCE!

WATERMELON SEASON, STRAWBERRY SEASON, PEACH SEASON, ALMOND SEASON

OR

HOW ABOUT HUNTING SEASONS?

LETS NOT EVEN GO THERE!

THAT DOPE NAMED FUD IS CONFUSED ENOUGH FOR ALL OF US

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: Time and Space

Time and Space: Entry IV, by Samuel Bostick.

“Time and Space. This catalog is an expressive venture into time and space. This has been a theme heavy on my mind, especially making the transition from life in Atwater, CA to Brooklyn. Yes, a second is always a second, but nonetheless, a minute in Atwater is very different than a New York minute. It’s crazy! It seems the best way to put it in short is that TIME and SPACE are measures of presence. Even writing this now, I know it’s further and deeper than that. Hope you enjoy the ride…”

– Samuel

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

Time and Space, Entry IV

 

Dive

A venture through the mystery of time’s power

What is it? How? and why?

Psychedelic trip

3 wheel motion

Complication

Subject & plot

Limitations…Boundaries

 

Curiousness in passing, as it violently wheels like a cyclone

 

Time Time Time Time

 

 

A Riddle:

What runs and runs an yet never gets tired?

 

Juxtaposing puzzle bouncing along all rhyme. A call to dedicate life toward a mission, young at heart, hard head, heavy working and gone fishin.

 

The soul travels through; unraveling the linear expectancy of A-B and B-C.

boggle

blurp

sleepless metropolitan

Nap

Pushinpushinpushing

Press against the membrane of creativity,

Pressure to produce or get past up

Birth

 

Sleep

 

When is the right time?

Gotta grab itand make it yours.

Own it

How long until…?

Practice patience; working efforts, these things take time

 

She heard it from a song, and used it to chastise—Times a waisting…

Now all I can respond is a line from a song too—***** Don’t kill my vibe

 

The unincouraged imagination… diagnosis of a divided nation

FREEZE!!

Red and Blue lights flash whistle, cry, blue and red. A nation in urgent need…

“911 this is an emergency. My neighbor is listening to that god forsaken hippity rabit hop again! And I can hear it. My little child is walking around calling everything  ‘cray’,                                               I don’t even know what that means…”

 

DEEPER

Purged beyond this life,

A traveler beyond the rationale of here and now

This is a life preceeded by those past

Life, the continuum of life shadowed by the mystereons of the unknown

Feel

 

One an two and Three and four and 7

One an two and Three and four and 12

One an two and Three and four and Dark

Red eyes & Black coffee

 

The nonstop rock cadence off the tic toc

Urgent pacing

Time erasing

Present to past

Test, moments unfold

A diabolic truth; flow divine inspired

Undefeated in tempo

Chopping blocks away from the life line

 

Deeper then life itself, dive in if you dare…

The wise advisory is to take all necessary precautions…life raft, buoyant vest, life saver and the good book. Now,

JUMP!!

Tuck

And SPLASH

Senses shocked at first contact

Overwhelmed with the change in sensation

A split second later the cold sets in

Feel it now…

Blue, Ice, Sink, Sink

…no, swim! Don’t sink!

 

Its in moments like these gills would be more than useful

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: Time and Space

Time and Space: Entry 2, by Samuel Bostick.

“Time and Space. This catalog is an expressive venture into time and space. This has been a theme heavy on my mind, especially making the transition from life in Atwater, CA to Brooklyn. Yes, a second is always a second, but nonetheless, a minute in Atwater is very different than a New York minute. It’s crazy! It seems the best way to put it in short is that TIME and SPACE are measures of presence. Even writing this now, I know it’s further and deeper than that. Hope you enjoy the ride…”

– Samuel

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

 Space n. 1) A period of time and duration. 2) A limited extent in one, two, or three dimensions. 3) An extent set apart or available. 3) The distance from other people or things that a person needs in order to remain comfortable. 4) One of the degrees between or above or below the lines of a musical staff. 5) Physical space independent of what occupies it. 6) The region beyond the earth’s atmosphere or beyond the solar system. 7) A blank area separating words or lines. 8) The opportunity to experience one’s identity freely. 9) The opportunity for privacy or time to oneself.

Time and Space: Entry 2

Thanks given for the shelter provided, these four walls that protect and provide.

A roof over head, thas what hour after hour of labor equates to.

Suspension

The quality of life claims comfort.

Relaxation

Relieve frustration; a quiet host for intimate moments and relations.

 

This is the carving, a body temporarily in place

A stone in motion, rolling year after year; no place to call home.

 

Cooperation is in. Out with solitude!

…unless of course you have excess ends to spend.

Privacy has its price.

Shared quarters, dollars broken down into four walls. (Once again, here we are)

Subs clawing quickly, connection people places and things.

Operational replacement, attic to basement, Intruder alert!

Grab guns and cans of mustard gas, Rodents spotted!

Execute and exterminate.

This $%^*# belongs to…actually could you remind me who again?

 

Turning Turning Tables, crowds come around peering with curiosity; the Cat is in a Hat

Reflection of when the old was once fresh, breaking news, epic portion—memories transcend the historic distortion.

Legacy passes along, oral tradition; the kind of thing shared over trips.

City left behind and on the door a sign, that reads simple and clear, Gone Fishing

Orator tradition; to pass time wisdom speaks of past time. This is the passing onward of legacy.

 

Dive in and occupy what is yours. Expand.

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: Time and Space

Time and Space: Entry 1, by Samuel Bostick. A new project kicks off…

“Time and Space. This catalog is an expressive venture into time and space. This has been a theme heavy on my mind, especially making the transition from life in Atwater, CA to Brooklyn. Yes, a second is always a second, but nonetheless, a minute in Atwater is very different than a New York minute. It’s crazy! It seems the best way to put it in short is that TIME and SPACE are measures of presence. Even writing this now, I know it’s further and deeper than that. Hope you enjoy the ride…”

– Samuel

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

 Time- 1) The measured or measureable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues. 2) A nonspatial continuum that is measured in term of events which succeed one another from past through present to future. 3) An appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin or end. 4) An opportune or suitable moment. 5) The point or period where something occurs. 5) A historical period. 6) A division of geologic chronology. 7) Conditions at present or at some specified period. 8) The present time. 9) A period of apprenticeship. 10) A term of military service. 11) A military sentence. 12) A season. 13) Rate of speed—the grouping of the beats of music. 14) A moment, hour, day, or year as indicated by a clock or calendar. 15) Any of various systems of recognizing time. 16) One of s series of recurring instances or repeated actions. 17) Added or accumulated quantities or instances—equal fractional parts of which an indicated number equal a comparatively greater quantity. 18) Turn. 19) Finite as contrasted with infinite duration. 20) A person’s experience during a specified period or on a particular occasion. 21) The hours or days required to be occupied by one’s work. 22) An hourly pay rate—wages paid at discharge or resignation. 23) The playing time of a game. 24) A period during which something is used or available for use.

Time and Space: Entry 1

Break

Sun falling, night risen. Alarms sleeping, thoughts take flight from rationality and tradition.

What is this warp? This awful purple birthed of orange and greenwise scorched…

How has this happened? The hands of time loosed and a slack in rhyme formerly divine in accuracy.

Hypocrisy!!

Two cups not one please, purple and pink turn up the drink and begin to sink..sink…sink. Fall back into clouds the slowmotion potion; How intoxicating a means to turn up curiosity of daydreams.

The transforming of blues clues to pink phink, ah yes this is the pulling of the plug on that funk. Watch it swirl into colors never seen nor to be seen again… notice how the green pours into the blue and the blue into the brown and the brown into the yellow and the yellow into the red and the red into the blue and the blue into the grey and the grey into the pink and the pink into the drain. There they all fade to black like a dream of bringing yesterday back that is until they spill out of the cracks and drip into our food, artificial colors and cosmetically modified appeal, no worries jus eat up and enjoy the meal.

Passing by with no remorse

Temporal warp, seconds crushed by the force of moments impatiently pushing their way into the scene

Routines Distort, the day to day no longer holding resort to those simple Sunday feelings, remember that easy tune—how it cooled and soothed the soul, sweet moments that had time tied up and held captive in the basement, not worried about rushing here nor there, jus sitting around loving life and breathing in calm, exhaling despair. The Easy.

The magic of turkey day, somehow there is always space for more! And More and MORE. Feeeeed meeeee. Wait, let me regain my composure; mother taught me manners and poppa told me to keep my cool, still and so I jus wanna dive into those mashed potatoes and gravy like a fool. Not jus any fool, rather the fool who cant swim jumpin in to the deep end of a pool. Hell yea, today is the day where impossible is not a word as far as this table and its contents are concerned…ruthless with the fork and knife, imma dig on this plate with the spirit and ardor of a miner who jus uncovered a rock of gold, except even more loose. Whenever I get up I may have to roll to the other room. Question: who in their right mind decided that the cowboys and redskins needed to play every thanksgiving from past till infinity, im not tryna see this mess, im too full for this bull…DESSERT thas the answer! Over sweet potato pie I don’t give a Brooklyn-bound-thugged-out-rats-ass that the sorry cowboys are getting smashed right now. Speaking of smashed…wheres the liq at? We gotta party tonight! Grab the disco ball and lets get it in, aint no mountain high, aint no valley low aint no river wide enough to keep me from getting to that apple pie, ooo AND we got ice cream! Yo this is KILLER, shamoo on this cats!! You goin HAM, thas cool, Im goin WHALE yea thas right im freewilly stupid on this grub!!!

Ugh, its time for a break now…why the #%#$ is this game still on hahah. Lemme text that cutie wit the round booty… *yawn, nah imma jus take a naa-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Damn I was out homie, what **** is it now? Anyway, where that FOOD at!!!

Somehow the colors of Autumn make the flavors of all this food a bit more epic. Gotta love it.

Bzzzzz: Samuel, this is your conscious. What about that guy who has no home, or the one that is always whining his blues up the block, callin out for a dollar or a dream. Today is a celebration still that shit don’t stop.

Shhhh… be sure to keep this convo on the low, we don’t want to disrupt the flow of things…I mean it iSs Thanks giving. Now say your prays and carry on. Have you yet to learn questions of concern only cause confusion??

Shes fasting?? Im eating (thas not gone change today).

Its always more complex than it should be. DAMN HOMIE, why you wanna kill my VIBE!!!?!?! Damn your right tho mr. conscious, I gotta be thankful for the fact I can stuff my face while others hardly even have a place to lay there head or a leg to chew on or a day off. Sometimes I get ahead of myself…

Thas the past though,

nonetheless present in the implications…Cowboys vs the Redskins, classic rivalry—ironic?

…not really

Don’t dwell,

Tell that to the souls without eyes wandering through hell.

How does a clock answer the question of eternity?

Linear motion,

A two dimensional function streaming through a world that operates on X-Y-Z coordination.

Variably something is missing.

 Chronologic,

sounds like something that belongs stuffed and rolled up into a tight J an smoked away

This that caiforni-cripto-chrologic-bubonic-tonic cuh,

Retro-

Active.

Grade.

Virus.

Retcon, for short.

 Contradictive motion—counter to the primary (a sure cause for commotion).

Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome, for long.

The Rare is running low

Its bout that **** to re-up.

“we owe the invention of bourbon to the earliest explorers”[[1]], well in THAT case, thanks!

Mom teaches there is a time and place for everything

As for space, thas a whole lot of nothing. An accumulation of area, a holding perimeter of vacancy. Its almost how valuable nothingness can be in a city where everything is appropriated to accrue revenue.

FLASH:

back to reality, the dream is far gone, like yesterday.

Back to work.

Sigh—I wonder if I’ll ever really understand.

…all in due time…all in due time.

…To be continued…


[1] Theirry Bénitah, The Secrets of Whiskey (Flemmarion S.A. 1999) p. 17

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: Time and Space

Whas up y’all,

I’m still in the Lab on this one, cookin’ up the proper swing. I feel the most responsible decision is pushing the release of the second installation back to next week, Time and Space, “Break”  will drop the 21rst of November. Thas right before Thanksgiving so let’s see what we can shake up. Thank you all for keeping up with the project and for keepin’ me on my toes. I’m not gone leave y’all empty handed though, I got a lil jig for y’all to groove on. Enjoy.

Live from the Workbench,

Samuel Bostick

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

 Flowers make the world go round, Frowns turned to smiles

Blues take flight leaving behind a tune called delight

She has a great natural look, still she absolutely Shines ‘round flowers….something about ‘er

Jus some thoughts from a young romantic…

May spirits be up or down, the air is bound to change when flowers and plants are ‘round

To those who disagree: you may be moved neither today nor tomorrow, Still one day the power of floral beauty will strike either adding joy to a festivity or knock the edge off a heavy gloom. Receive your blessing.

Fluorescence of purple pedals on grey day, electronic shining under grey skies, standing proud—radiance profound, royalty in elegance and gown.

Field notes from a country kid…

The life, the growth, the way they smile and perk up, how they ask for water,

The freshness of air, the softness of petals, they feel, we feel each other

A relationship unique, breaths in cycle, refresh

Life arrangement we connect…intimacy, appreciation, beauty, respect.

Kiss a rose.

Scribbles off a green thumb…

Give a flower, show some Love.

Grow a plant, may it bloom—rejoice the power of botany, cooperative living.

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: Time and Space

Chase: Cat and Mouse, Time and Space, by Samuel Bostick.

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

Chase: Cat and Mouse, Time and Space

Dashing flashes alerted masses of oncoming fury, Danger spoken in voz of crashes—war cries forewarning the unconcerned to take refuge, take arms or get fuck out the city. Deeper than jus a storm, this was the oncoming clash of Titons! Seas churned operationally violent in frightened response to the angered enlight’ment of the mighty Triton, El dios Chac-mool se levantó con sed de la sangre en la garganta.

Thunder, the unseen drummer veiled in ceremonious garbs delivering booms, rocking tombs and prophesying doom. This is jus the beginning, the first stage of gloom, an introduction to battle. It has begun; the vision ancestors scribed down, the dream oral traditionalist foretold, the epic of which the scopes had sung.

Swelling seas of grey, clouds crawling across the sky heavy with the weight of disappoint seeking proper place to unload. To release, to cry out, to Superman Deez–O’s.  Aware; the brewing of a storm demands bare attention.

Chilling thrills ripped in over the coast, howling scowls prowled streets sending summons to spirits and stirring any stagnation that had lay beneath. Cutting quick, shifting swift slashing into and burning mental as the unseen Ginsu unsheathed.

Regret, the ultimate confidence killer…neither time nor space for that.

Still there is hope so take the knife of doubt and self pity away from your throat. Watch the youth, take lesson from their brilliance. The storm ripped out a tree from the ground and threw it into a park. Crashing over the fence it lay in the scene as a testimony to hostile time past. The children won’t be stopped, no way no how. They welcomed this new addition to the playground with zeal and zest! Taking to it as a new prop for playtime adventures; climbing on, running round it, maybe it was a castle or a forest hideaway who knows! Still they were appropriating it in proper fashion. Climbing a tree had never seemed so fun, never so powerful, never so sacred as it did as these young ones reclaimed their space. And they did it with imagination, style and grace. The imagination and awareness to overcome the prelude of tragedy; smiles, laughs, and the simple ability to have a great time…the beauty of youthfulness. I mean these young ones were really ROMPING into that tree!! It was GREAT. These are champions! Turning tragedy to triumph is their badge.

Stay Cool Y’all,

Bostick

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The Porch Swing: WORD of the day

WORD of the day XIII.

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, Jim Natale.

Time n. 1) a: The measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues. b: a nonspatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from past through present to future. 2) the point or period when something occurs 3) a: An appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin, or end. b: an opportune or suitable moment—often used in the phrase about time. 4) a: a historical period. b: a division of geologic chronology. c: conditions at present or at some specified period —usually used in plural. d: The present time. 5) a: Lifetime. b: A period of apprenticeship: a term of military serviced : a prison sentence. 6) Season. 7) a: Rate of speed: Tempo. b: The grouping of the beats of music: Rhythm.  8) a: A moment, hour, day, or year as indicated by a clock or calendar. b: Any of various systems (as sidereal or solar) of reckoning time. 9) a: One of a series of recurring instances or repeated actions: added or accumulated quantities or instances: equal fractional parts of which an indicated number equal a comparatively greater quantity.10) Finite as contrasted with infinite duration. 11) A person’s experience during a specified period or on a particular occasion.

WORD of the day: Time

 

Time why do I feel like I never have enough of you?

Do you love me or do you resent me?

Face twisting and turning in mockery of my dependence,

My chained link to your ebbed flow.

The wise say knock, and knock I hath,

Woe is you time! Woe is you!!

 

Time turning, a winced face

 winding, winding, winding

 

How you move so fast at times and other times so slow,

yet the same duration past; I’ll never quite understand.

 

Watches, bells, Grandfathers, straps, chains, cogs, batteries, faces, accessories, etc.

Tools designed to satisfy our fetish with time.

 

A vertigo of characters and chambers constantly in motion;

Seconds churning, turning hours into years, trading years in for memories.

 

Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu. Cuu-Cuu…

 

 

Past,

 A time far removed; a lover never to be held again, an expired love affair.

 

Here just a second ago, right here in hand

Always a trickster; the slyest of foxes, shifting, sifting, sliding out of any situation.

 

Now thinking about it, has it ever really been seen?

A ghostly matter, haunting the brain, plaguing the folds of our minds.

 

Still never to be caught nor held,

Not for one damned second.

 

Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu.

 

 

Just as aloof, the future maintains its own allure.

A tendency to tease, to feed on the hopes of day dreams

 

The unfolding of time, revealing of events and encounters unpredictable.

An elusive archer, aimed right in your direction…

 

Never promised and hardly ever kept to words.

Just outside the jurisdiction of the tangible.

 

Oh but the taste, the feeling, I can almost swear I’ve had it before.

Delusion; A fantasy so sweet nonetheless.

 

Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu. Cuu-Cuu, Cuu-Cuu.

 

 

Ah yes, the present.

A familiar face, a friend to us all.

 

Like one of those friends that come over and kicks their feet up on your kitchen table an shit.

Keep your eye on this one though.

 

One second it’s right in front of you, one blink and it’s gone or has a whole new look.

Simple as that.

 

The wedge between the future yet to come and the past gone too fast.

 

Its like that road runner moving along to fast to ever catch,

Constantly dropping anvils and TNT sticks on all our diabolic plans to catch it, to CAGE it, to hold onto it and slow roast it.

 

Never quite works like that, it only stops long enough to poke out a taunting tongue, then ZOOM.

And we’re left there just looking WILE-E

 

Cuu-Cuu.

 

 

And where do we fit into this?

Into all the complicated webs of chronology, these contraptions and interactions?

 

Thus far each one of us to determine that, to recognize for ourselves.

As for me, well…

 

 I’m that character that peeks out ever so often, just checking in on things

Never late, still never quite on time, unpredictable. Yes, that fellow, that’s me.

 

 

Not a necessity to the maze, however a great addition…

I’m that little character that pops out just to show you simply how crazy time is…

 

No name, I just am that I am.

That little fellow, yes that’s me.

 

Cuu-Cuu. Cuu-Cuu.

 

 

Maybe I’m crazy, you think?

Humph, only time will tell…

 

 

Cuu-Cuu.

Reflection and Response.

Samuel Bostick

@THEREALSHANTS

the LIFESTYLE’s role is to create collective space for active Reflection and Response through the arts. This space is built around dialogue, expression, collaboration, and artistic (ex)change involving international craftspeople and their realities. The Porch Swing series opens up a Reflection and Response residency where we feature a Collective member’s ongoing project through weekly installations.

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The City Swells

Madrid, December 5th.

The city has turned into a universe of holiday. I live in Callao, which is the central shopping district and there are thousands of people that crowd the square outside my flat. There are lights strung up and various ice skating rinks in different plazas around town. That’s the environment that gave birth to this song

I wrote the instrumental for The City Swells yesterday on December 4th. I then wrote the lyrics today.

A Capella

Full Track

In this European capital invaded by lights/ Travelers who have taken flights to come and see the sights/ The crowd swells to dangerous heights/ In the distance street performer yells “That’s all for tonight.”/ Santa’s sleigh on display various nights/ Parents brave the cold with jackets and tights/ Earmuffed Munckin children hold on tight/ This city’s alight

I walk gingerly/ On this history/ These streets a mystery/ What happened here and when?/ Centuries of women and men/ Holidays spent in different fashion Ramadan back then/ Then the Christian kings established the crown/ And the lights went up and never came down/ Today’s the same way a slightly changed town/ These streets fit for horses not porches you find now

So I live in this city that slowly becomes mine/ Discovering places I’m still waiting to find/ No distractions of home memory clouds the mind/ Watch friend’s successes look how far they climb!/ And in such a short time/ Congrats on the victories/ I know we’d rise to infamy/ In our prime/ And while I keep busy I find I miss you/ i hope you’re missing me/ Sometimes

Holiday Reflection and Response

-P

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