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NOMAD WORLD TRACE
USER INFO: .A FROG.

Name: .a frog.

Photos: .a frog.'s photo libraries

NAVIGATION.
the living house ( 27th Jul, 2008 )
digesting ( 31st Jan, 2008 )
the question of homes ( 17th Nov, 2007 )
giant lands ( 8th Sep, 2007 )
morsel ( 28th Feb, 2007 )
owed ( 25th Sep, 2006 )
canvas ( 25th Sep, 2006 )
for gathaka ( 14th Jul, 2006 )
you and me and all together ( 26th Jun, 2006 )
dunno ( 25th Jun, 2006 )
croton ( 22nd Jun, 2006 )
nomads of the world ( 26th Apr, 2006 )
filthy chaos and joy ( 18th Apr, 2006 )
happy newyears! 2549 ( 10th Apr, 2006 )
linguistic improvements ( 24th Mar, 2006 )
tamarinds and the social laboratory ( 16th Mar, 2006 )
metta ( 16th Jan, 2006 )
northern suns ( 16th Jan, 2006 )
rubber nipples ( 16th Jan, 2006 )
bring out yer dead ( 16th Jan, 2006 )
eject mid play ( 16th Jan, 2006 )
ata loco ( 16th Jan, 2006 )
illadelph halflife and the individualism of nomadicy ( 12th Dec, 2005 )
nexus ( 13th Nov, 2005 )

.A FROG.
 
the living house

the dog is so smelly that his smell lingers in the air well after i've let him outside.

the dog used to belong to andrew - who lives upstairs, now though, now he is john's dog.

john is a 78 year old korean war vet. he always wears his camo jacket and a beanie even on hot and heavy and windless days. he has shoulder length jet black hair that he shines with shoe polish. he walks with a cane. he plays the harmonica and the piano and he loves to tell stories.

john had been living in the basement of one of the buildings near here and then one day one of the owners told him he had to get out - that insurance inspectors had said that no one could live there, that his presence was against codes.

john says its cuz the guy was jealous, jealous that the cats all like john and not him. john says the guys probably going to charge $2000 for the space now that he's out of it. john didn't know what to do then - his closest sister has died , he has a niece he doesn't really know, another sister he hasn't seen or heard from in 40 years.. and this is his neighborhood.

first he slept on the neighbors back porch, he refused all our offers for blankets and a shower.. then he set up a little blue tent in the neighbors back yard, then somebody laid down a carpet and he brought up an air mattress set up some make shift walls and now he lives in our garage. the dog guards him morning noon and night. the dog finally has purpose it seems.

i'm worried about winter though.
even if john says he likes the cold.

 
digesting

in the belly of the beast where everything churns and mixes into mush- digestive juices doin' their thing...

this particular tonight feels like winter stationed in front of the electric heater while phoebe plays the piano and the tamborine and sings all at the same time.

here in this house which is a sanctuary in this madness. election year.

election year.

a simple life. food and fabric and music and paint and sweet sweet kisses at bed time before and after... thieving kisses bandita.

on the streets the people are full of passion.. even if it is passionate complacency. i resist the urge to dwell in darkness. even though all across america the bad news rolls in unending waves.

In one of the northern states, police kill a 26 year old black woman in her home and shoot her infant son, who still lives. Police refuse apology. On the subway in NYC all passengers are subject to random search by police. I must be photographed before i can enter my brothers office building in TImes Square. New Orleans, 12,000 people are homeless many living in tents under the highway. many of them lived in the solid brick buildings that stand behind barbed wire fences awaiting demolition as ordered by their city council. 3 people froze to death this year in New Orleans, they were sleeping outside under the highway in the homeless encampment. The 'hotel rooms' provided by a 'charitable' homelessness organization requires that people in residence there be locked into their room at dusk. Two months ago in Brooklyn police shot a mentally disabled boy 20 some odd times because he pulled a comb out of his pocket. ..Sean Bell... scientology.. anonymous wars... global warming.. Police are using tazers on protesters, i saw a girl i know go into a siezure after being shocked by the electricity. Blood stains on the shirts of our local leaders.

so much darkness to swallow us all up.
but here we weave lifelines of light and grappling hooks firmly anchored in a lovingness. creating a reality.

the Lakota nation seceded from the United States.

So what does it all mean? i explore my own identity in the context of this nation, in the context of NYC in the context of New Orleans in the context of a white girl with a camera. queer eyes wide.

what i have seen though.. thinking of Kenya and the wars over the recent election there... not that i am enamored with violence but straining from that the idea that people are going to fight, that a dishonest election might be so intolerable that it is worth a war. because in contrast. here in america we exist in a haze. and the police are far better armed and the people are afraid to rise up and fight, and are attempting diplomacy. but there is something.. a hint of something.. that i sense.. i hear people truly starting to hope for a different leadership in this country. i wonder if this time the elections will be worth fighting for???

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