Hallow'een web-blogs collection...

three of my favorite "mood" pictures 
from blogg sources


ENJOY YOUR HALLOW'EEN....

Vondervotteimittiss: a Poe's observation in neurasthenia

Vondervotteimittiss is the toun of the belfry, its tower and its huge, almost zodiacal clock: the belfry is the town, the town is the belfry: the town-the belfry, the belfry-the toun. Into the belfry live 777 dwarves, who make the luciferine gears of the belfry work: night and the day, day and the night this merciless machinery it's alive and o'clock, thanks to the officious and restless task of these little-deformed men: all of them have their face as Edgar Poe.

His face, they have, and his huge forehead; incommensurably ample, immense like the astral conch; almost freakish; and all these Poe-faced dwarves, they work the 24 hoürs of the 365 days of every year, forever, because these dwarves self-regenerate themselves, and when one of them is about to die, another one is born from his head; like a Greek, mythic aberration.


The 77.777 inhabitants of Vondervotteimittiss (as dense as the Benelux population usually is), all of them are exactly 1,64 metres tall (as demographic studies show, it's the minimum common denominator of the Dutchman), and the women are 1,54: the Vondervotteimittisseans are a scared, miserable, small variety of people, and they adjust their wristwatches beholding with insane fixation the belfry during long minutes; and their vital cycles, internal humors, entrails and vital organs are periodically adjusted by the belfry, as well, when they fall asleep on their little beds, thanks to a complicated link of chemical emissions the dwarves installed inside the belfry; which is the town, which is the belfry: the belfry-the town, the town-the belfry.




Every 25th day of May, of every year, the infernal clockwork of Vondervotteimittiss needs to be oiled to keep on going ahead, and o'clock, without a single error, not even one second; because if some day the appalling belfry of Vondervotteimittiss stops being o'clock, and perfectly synchronised, even for a fraction of second, the whole toun would succumb in the act, and disappear, being apparatusously buried 777 kilometres under the ground, catastrophically swallowed in one second by the Ëarth, with terrible disaster.




...But to oil these gears from Hades, the öïl is not adequate: the machine demands human blööd, and in order to save the little and sick society of Vondervotteimittiss from a final collapse, and to keep things running harmoniously its neurotic order, 777 children (from Vondervotteimittiss and near towns), are sacrificed every year: the supply of blööd is completed, the life will go on: the society won: the barbarity, the destruction and the holocaust, lost.



The 25% of the blööd is the annual dwarves' victual and nourishment, since they're vampires; and also they share a 37% of hüman genoma, since they're angels, though.
And so, the risible, practically Swiss, almost chocolatesome town of Vondervotteimittiss spends its centuries; and so it was since the year 1.109 AD, when the dwarves arrived, and the cürse took the belfry, the town, and even everyone who's reading this, as its own, cursed and doomed property.

.

playing in the mud...

see the pretty mud....
dry mud, caked and cracked,
then photographed,
and hopelessly manipulated.

change-out the Dodgers for "BOBCATS"

...and voilà! the Dodger dugout is the "BOBCATS" dugout.
Only for the day... then it all changes back...presto chango....

Looks like home (plate)

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Where am I?

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Atom Age Vempire

...Is the year 2061, the professor Randy L'Oreal is trying a new experiment, he's going to encrust the neck of a living woman into the neck of Wanda Koleston, a woman who died in 1967, and whose body was kept embalmed in his laborratory ever since HAHAHA!

With the help of his sordid secretary Nephertiti Fukk, the surgery seems to be a total success, but as the hours pass by, Wanda Koleston starts turning into a two-headed vempiress; the blood lust and the cum lust turned Koleston into an insatiable, serial monster that blowjobs men non-stop to suck their blood later, letting them totalley KOSHER.

Like a modern Proteus she can also change her shape, becoming alternatively a dangerous zombie, a box of Eveready batteries or a mouffette, indistinctly.

Now she/he is out of control, the Atom Age Vempire is going for her ultimate victim: the corpse of Juan Perón!!!!!!!

ATOM AGE VEMPIRE!!

.

favorite oldie from South Dakota job...

"miniature golf" says the sign on the road....
let me get my clubs...
the clubhouse is where ...?

I ran over this accidently, but liked it enough to share...

 Odat mumbles ...
http://odatmumbles.blogspot.com/2010/06/something-to-ponder.html                  

the shadow man...

a very dark sketchy guy
in the corner of my eye...

Venice canal location (CA)

A nice place to visit, but ....


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An intro to Cape Bojador

.

The harpies of Cape Bojador

.

1) "Chanson Berbère de la mort"


...There is a niche where I fall some nights. Is pure blue oxygen this zone of death.
Among the ozone I saw the iron Jesus of the Kabyles walk on the meander.
Among the ozone I didn't see anything; into this niche.
...And some nights I wonder where are you...






2) "Days in the niche"


The streets of Casbah smell fumigated this noon: under a sun of Pier Paolo Pasolini, the silver mountain with the pink caryatid throws a shade of death over the minaret where is the prepuce of the prophet Mohammed...a perfume of fried damasks makes the night turn up violently...
...je suis mort de douleur over hydrocephalus birds: everything is so sad in this place...






3) "The harpies of Cape Bojador"


...Now my descent is madness into the semi-circular cage: nothing is as it seems in this niche; my throat gets husky cursing it, crying out loud...the walls just give me the black marble echoing in maelstroms, like the laugh of the idiot, that never, ever ends...
...Going deeper into this box, the sky gets opened suddenly over the Atlantic dominion of the Spanish Sahara, home of the harpies of Cape Bojador and their mirrors which I saw in dreams, among the terror of the childhood, the fears which are transmitted generation to generation through the blood...and my own abnormality.
The harpies of Cape Bojador fly, leaving an aroma of butane unto the Atlantic Dorsal, which opens itself to the transatlantic planes...their yellow-wrinkled breasts drip calostro over the horrid Molochs of copper, abandoned there by the Visigoths, like collapsed automata...my ancestors used to make tonsures in their flesh, they used to chase Romans to devour them...they were the last cannibals of Europe: my karma is bad since all the eternity, my flag is the no-flag, my love is the no-love.
But if a fulmar will sing one day over the cape, he will sing for you.
I swear it.






4) "Algerian sun"


Baby...I belong to the territory of the sombre Occident, I'm the black witches, I'm degraded blood: mirrors, mirrors: mirrorized harpies reflecting that blue-blind sky on me.
Now des hétaires rest their buttocks and their humid sex on the mosaics, exhaust of strange love.
They are like those filles magnetiques de la Dordogne: it's the moment when Venus appears hydraulical over Malta: la belle shines like a vagina of chrome annihilated by the vanillism.
...But some nights, a Sun-navel shines into the niche; and the ricochets of the wind, whistle out your name with denaturalized noises: is a mystery what happens in there; because no one can get inside in those moments.

Not even I.




.

Before the night

(2005)

"Yes, although I'm walking by the valley of the shadow..."
(Psalm 23)





My days have been faster than the blue wind of angels' wings, they ran away and never could see the joy or the good.
The man who's born from woman short in days he is, and fed up in pains and distress...as soon as he appears among the living ones, he's cut off, and his whole life and energy run away like a cursed shade, down, into the interminable hole forever.

Certainly my days are counted: where do all this sweetness and all these worries will go?
Where are they going to go, My?

I'll die, and I won't see you anymore...because my vanity killed me for sure, and for sure I am vile like a worm, and hypocritical in my mind: my life just was a dream of ashes.
Because: if the man dies, will he live again? Come on, the time is near.

All the years of my age I'll wait for my liberation, then you'll call me.
And I'll reply you.
You'll have affection at the size of your hands, I'll remember yet.

Oh. If you just could remember me...


II)

What the man is to demand anything?
I shall leave my selfishness behind, I shall forget about me...
In front of a God I'll shed my tears, will He feel sorry for me?
If I just were like a child...

So got to follow the path of no return: the sepulchre awaits, and on its bitterness my eyes are fixed under the Sun...

Today, a wind of death has come to flabbergast me, the designs of my heart they were all darkened and thrown into the oblivion; I know the time it's near, and my place won't be found anymore...

My days had come to be like a dream of death, but I won't invalidate your judgement.

As my spirit roamed by forgotten places, the scorn of theirs has come to be like my clothing: free me please.

Whoever sees me avoids my presence, cos I was forgotten by their hearts; and as I hear their murmurs, like in reveries, I cannot understand.
Cos my mind got blurred, my heart got breathless and my mouth got dumb. Dumb for imploring.

All the years of my age I'll wait for my liberation, then, if you call, I'll reply you.
You will have my love at the size of your heart.

deep from the bowels of art history...

Inspired from the heart-shaped cactus
found on my hike in a desert canyon

new glass art

Powdered frit stencil design challange.
super fine fritted diamond pattern on the 14" diameter oversized-rim bowl design.
I want to work on some more color variations.

queen jpd sketch

jpd...

infra-blu-toadstool-watercolor-cam

funny,
those things you may find on the morning walk
when scrutinized under photoshop apps.
our amazing infra-blu world...

saw it on a blogsite...

as put by Ahinesa;
the significance of the logo tag placement ... on its "hind"... is telling of the overall dining experience.
(roughly translated)
bravo!!

homegrown cactupuss...

YES...
grown in my own garden
in a pot, more bowl than pot,
grown under nasty conditions
and years of neglect.
then it comes out and wows me.
wow.

jackie o'...

sketchy guy...
must be the season after all...
I like the rough paper
and "bleed-threws"
gives 'personality'

t'aint the season...

a very toothy skull
from the "rough" sketchbook
settling into Hallow's 'Een coming up...

owlette ...

time to come out yet??
... I found this drawing back a couple books ago.
I don't think I have shown it yet.
I like the little guy, ...
he might be saying, 
"whoa, where is this???"
yup.

If the winds would change

If the winds would change, if this strange, strange sensation would remit.
If the nightwinds would start shifting their course away, if they would run my course, run my course.
If the nocturnal breeze would pair its direction along with the yesterday's ideals; if only.

If only the winds would change; if only this pain would run its course away.
If only these winds would change...

Feeding reindeer ...

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Toulous Tour & Travel Yogyakarta Indonesia: TOUR PACKAGES

Toulous Tour & Travel Yogyakarta Indonesia: TOUR PACKAGES: "If you interested with the Tour Packages, Please contact me in my Phone number or Email :1. +62 274 - 6622708 / 3327327. Mobile : +6281328843421

Toulous Tour & Travel Yogyakarta Indonesia
We serves :
1.Car Rent
2.Ticketing
3.Tour Packages
4.Hotel Reservation
5.Tourist Information Center
6.Adventure with Mountain Bike
7.Adventure with Dokar / Horse Drawn Buggy around Borobudur
8.ETC
Our Office in Jl.Kaliurang Km.10 Yogyakarta 55581
Phone : +62 [274] 3327327/6622708
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Email : toulous_tour@yahoo.com
Blog : toulous-tour.blogspot.com

side buds

red cactus flowers from my collection of cactus photos
taken at the Huntington Gardens

Reign rain rein deered

iPad apps are fun.
So are reideer,
Artic*ularly speaking

Mushroom plaque ...

Mushrooms chunks in colors
Stainedglass mushroom piece
(made on "sketch" app)

Riley's frisbee ...

There is no doubt
Riley
& his frisbee
Are one.

He is a frisbee warrior
Through and through
Triumphant in his fris maneuvers

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Into the cabinet

...The moon-LL, princessly flux up, and so lights my cabinet as I sink in to the pain once again... Won't never, ever end this mission?
Day after day in these amplitudes, moonbeany bathed, I waited for a reply, a vital sign. I am the stellar walker lost so far away from home, my name is Guglielmo Shatner.
...But home...where is home anyway..?
Dear memories and the sleep get blended in the lightless nights, so I fall asleep under the gnarled tears of Satan, Lord of the Space, asleep in blurred painful feelings full of kold.
I suppose I'm lost here, where's Spock? I'm resigned and shattered here.
Shattnered.
...And any earthly connection is lost.

Hey you, whoever you are. Didn't you ever feel you'd give your whole life for something to happen? All you have. Didn't you ever wish to come back in time? I'm an ocean inside, and the shades swallowed me; hey you. My neuronal structure is still alive, but I don't exist anymore for them. I don't belong to the world of the living ones anymore. It won't end this desolation someday? Someday.
Here, where everything merges into everything.

...The ardency of the elements in the morning of Canopus wakes me up; but I don't want to wake up.
I don't want to wake up. Just want to sleep at the silver and orange bright of this absurd dawn forever. Sleep forever.
If I just could sleep forever.

Welcome to my astral labyrinth, whoever you are. Here I am: where forever is forever, in this ridiculous planetoid which was shat by Satan.
Shatner by Satan.
Please save me from this icy, perpetual desolation. Save me, so I can laugh once again one day...save me, even if you don't want to! I beg you: see my tears that can't stop from falling, do you? Because forever is a long, long time. Even into forever.
And I just can't stand it anymore. And I just can't stand it anymore. And I just can't stand it anymore.

10-10-10

An eye drop ...
full of color
=light
=energy
passes in
around and through
intensified
to the 10's

owl lotus staima

The creative 
seeds of energy
spring forth from the deep reserves
manifest in all forms
this movement is growth
all things grow in connectivity


AWARENESS is the key

Sampan Layar Race

This is the native's game along the beaches in Karimun, and become an agenda in years. Join us Karimun people and audience from other places to see the exciting boat racing.

History of Karimun

Karimun used to be under the power of Sriwijaya Kingdom until it fell in 13th century. Buddhism had been exist at the time, proven by an inscription in Pasir Panjang village. It is said that the traders ships often passed over Karimun that moment, and then Malaka Kingdom ( Islam ) influence came there.

In 1511, Portuguese was defeating Malaka. Sultan Mansyur Syah who rules at that time forbade the King's descents to stay in Malaka, and built some small Kingdoms. Then some Kingdoms such as Indrasakti, Indrapura, Indragiri, and Indrapuri were formed. Meanwhile, there where so many Malaka people spreade in Kepri's Islands, including Karimun.

Since Malaka feel and replaced by Johor Kingdom, Karimun was used as the basis of navy power who fought the Portuguese, started from Sultan Mahmud Syah I period ( 1518-1521 ) until the period of Sultan Ala Jala Abdul Jalil Ri'ayat Syah ( 1559-1591 ).

After that Karimun was under the power of Riau-Lingga Kingdom ( 1772-1784). All that time, Karimun, espedially Kundur was well know as producer of Gambir and minerals such as tin granite,etc Karimun had developed become a trade area and rached its success at the period of Raja Ali Haji.

blowing leaves
cooler air
climate change
creative sparks
time to get busy in the glass studio

Daily LIfe Vietnam

Dolphin and Dog - Let's be Friends

it's a little corny, but still a lot of fun to watch;
Dolphin and Dog - Let's be Friends

fish wave

If I was a fish
I'd want to be surfing
in the coolest, craziest, tubular waves
that I could find.
From the shore
I'd hear;
"Look at that surfing fish!"


cool.

fall is falling

just days ago
it was just like summer
today it's really fall
a few turns of the globe
and ...
voil à:autumn


winds of change are blowing today

hang time ...

Fish tricks 
this one is called "HangTime"
a real showstopper.
What if you could 'hang time'
just to savour the moment;
make it last a little longer
where would you go?

Dimension Hatröss

The captain Alf Willie Chevrolet left the Earth in 2099, and he swore he never would come back again; his plan was minutely studied for years, while he kept it in secrët, his plan was to leave the Earth forever, to leave the Earth, because he was tired of the Earth; his plan was to leave the Earth forever, forever nevermore...long years studying the extra-planetary conditions turned him into an expert, although his plan wasn't very clear -it never was-, and his desire wasn't to settle in a certain planet, but roam, never stay in a same place, to roam forever; forever nevermore.

When his family knew about his plan, they deemed it insanity, dementia, impossible: he didn't listen to them, e was decided...two mates swore to accompany him in secret, both were astronauts in the NOSA, like him: Lita Ford, and Peppe Ferrari; the decision was absolute and definitive: the 1/1/2099, at midnight, the 3 friends entered the hangars of the NOSA in Oklah...and stole a small spaceship: Chevrolet, Ford and Ferrari escaped from this world in the night! A HAHAHA!!!
This is the last photo of the captain Chevrolet on Earth, 5 minutes before the f-flight:

...And also a picture of Lita Ford, taken by himself:

Peppe Ferrari refused to be portrayed, because of superstitious reasons though.


The voyage was ok, though Ferrari got envious when Ford and Chevrolet started fucking secretly in her cabinet; Ferrari demanded 2 weekly blowjobs from Ford, and she accepted and gave him 17, because she was feeling a bit energized by the outer space no-atmosphere.

The first stopover was in the planetoid C-Ctop, name they gave it because its shape was like a cucumber, and it was only 3 km2.
In C-Ctop they made an orgy, but Ford was exhausted of double penetrations, and asked to go on, so that they left C-Ctop quickly...

After several weeks of astral travel and Greek-styled blowjobs, the spaceship landed on Madusa, planetoid that belongs to Andromeda, and that presumably was desert.

One night, the captain Chevrolet walked alone by the terrain of the planetoid with no trust, every 7 or 8 steps he turned violently his back and saw around him; Chevrolet left his 2 mates in the spaceship, they would be sleeping already, probably...the night was calm, maybe excessively calm, but a nondescript, disquieting murmur seemed to be heard every now and then...a distant, almost inaudible sound that looked like rats screeching...what could be that?

The night was calm in Madusa, its red sands did fly with a wind that didn't come from Heaven...the night was wind and silence; though the silence was not absolute...

Suddenly a glassy scream cut the night in two, it was a scream of the captainess Ford coming from the rocket: Chevrolet ran to the spaceship, alarmed for the shout, some machinal, cyborgian; totally inhuman noises were mixed among the Ford's screams.

When Chevrolet arrived to the spaceship's hall, the spectacle paralyzed him: a square, huge and silvery automaton come from the nothing was raping Ford anally; her screams of excitement got mixed with her screams of pain, because the robot's cock was very big and steely.
The strange apparatus emitted a sibilant, metallic buzz, like the noise of an engine, which was due to the automatic movement of its penis...Ford and Ferrari (who just woke up, alarmed for the mechanical loudness and the human shouts), both jumped on the cyborg, but the machine had a monstrous power, and pushed both men away against a wall of the rocket, as easy as if they were two kittens. Ferrari and Chevrolet knocked their heads against the wall because of the tremendous shove, and lost consciousness.

When both men regained consciousness, neither the automaton nor the captainess Ford were there: Ferrari & Chevrolet jumped out of their spaceship, to search for their mate, something terrible could have happened to her, that obnoxious automaton was excessively endowed and could annihilate Ford by sex excess perhaps, or maybe could strangle or dismember her, or simply mince her and feed its automaton-dogs, or something.
Chevrolet & Ferrari were walking by that desert planetöïd during the whole morning, the day was cold and dry, as usually the days are in Madusa...approximately at 11 AM, when they were exhausted and thirsty, fed up of swallowing red sand that the wind made fly, Ferrari screamed alarmed: "a bunker!"

What did a metallic bunker do in the middle of a red desert of a planetoid lost somewhere into the Andromeda's galaxial spirals?

Eh?

That was exactly what both men said to themselves, while they walked toward the silvery bunker, that sparkled like an argent conch under the closest sun: Percivale.
Percivale was a mid-sized sun, which due to the special conditions of the Madusa's atmosphere, looked like green-esque for thë human retina: the sky of Madusa, on the other hand, had an always pellucid and profound, luminous color blue, much bluer than any sky seen by the man's eye from the Earth.
Is difficult to explain how blue were the skies of Madusa, it was a saturated blue, not fluorescent, but so excessively blue that almost could not be seen directly without having a headache.
This color was due to the particular atmosphere combined with a radiant energy with wavelengths of approximately 7.420 to 7.490 nanometers.

Under the rays of Percivale, Ferrari & Chevrolet arrived at the gates of the tenebricose bunker, one of its six doors was curiously open.
The bunker was a pyramid which did shine like the platinum, from the inside, eerie, background electrostatic radio noises were emitted.

...Ferrari & Chevrolet found themselves into a metallic corridor as soon as they entered the pyramidal bunker, the corridor was interminable, and many metallic doors were seen all along its cold walls...the shape of the corridor was tubular and the floor was like a cold-platinum grill, which sounded with a dry-steely noise at every step.

Captains Ferrari & Chevrolet walked during a long while, long minutes which turned then into hours, but...how this was possible, how that corridor could be so long if the pyramid was not so big..?

As they kept walking, finally realized that that corridor had a descendent trajectory, this was so subtle and gradual that they didn't realize but long hours later...long hours while they were walking downwards, descending into the entrails of the infernal planetoid, Madusa...

Both astronauts were lost, lost in the unidirectional coldness of a silvery corridor without an end, totally estranged and stray, looking for their mate, Ford where they could, as they could, they didn't even know if they could get out of that place now, probably buried ito a metallic tube, kilometers and kilometers under the surface of a miserable planetoid of the Andromeda's system...suddenly Ferrari wished he was in NYC, Long Island, the 5th Avenue perhaps, or Paris, or maybe London, or even Uruguay, or Amazonia, or the worst shithole on Earth; but on the Earth!

He cried, cried bitterly missing the Earth and all its sweet miseries, and as he cried, Chevrolet cried too, and both fell down on their knees, exhausted on the metallic and rigid grill which was the floor of that satanic corridor. Still weeping in desperation and grief, Ferrari extracted an old-little book from his pocket, it was a "self-help" book, written by a Mr So-and-So Paulo Coelho, one of those small books he brought from Earth; the "self-help" was his favorite reading, holistic and motivational bullshit that he thought that helped him, guides to improve emotionally, beliefs and techniques which supposedly would operate on his psyche, poor idiot! HA HA HA!

Both men were lost into their sorrow, they didn't know what to do anymore, if keep on walking, or just come back on their steps...but as sometimes happens, in the middle of the worst distress, an unexpected event opened their eyes suddenly, while they were already lost and dead, for the Universe and for themselves: among a machinal noise that didn't come from Heaven above, but from the last abysses of the blackened Sheol, they seemed to hear the screams of Ford? Who else could be, there was another human female in that ghastly place..? Listening very hard they realized that effectively was Ford, somewhere close to that in-human, to that denaturalized corridor...and the noises that were heard among the Ford screams...that, it was that infernal machine??!!

Suddenly both jumped from their immobility on the floor and ran toward the noise and the scream, like blind ones they ran along that infinite corridor: the screams sounded closer at every step.

Finally they arrived, there was a metallic, oval door, which fortunately was not closed: panting violently both men did burst into the hellish room: what they saw congealed their blood: a scream of horror escaped from their throats.

Like in an image from the lower world of the dead, the captainess Ford's torso was hanging from a metallic harness turned upside down, her arms and legs were brutally mutilated, as she was anally and vaginally penetrated by 2 automata. As background for this bad scene, there was a huge video screen, where could be seen the beastly act in a spectacular "close-up": the room was full of shouts, hüman screams of repugnance and terror, and the deafening buzz of the relentless machines, which were shattering the sex of Ford, although she was alive, the interface of the cyborgs was burning and emitted a strong plastic and metallic smell.

At this point more aütomatä entered the nefarious hall and captured Chevrolet and Ferrari, proceeding to hang them, subsequently: their öwn mutilation was served...

From the distance, if some hüman ear would have hear all that, it would sound like one million enraged wasps being burned alive in their own nest.

If some hüman ear would have hear.

If some hüman ear.

If.

But the avernal corridors of Madusa are far away from hüman ears

thousand light years away.

DIMENSION HATRÖSS

.

Ah yes ...
NOW it seems like Fall is arriving,
a few thundershowers
a cool wind
and change-o
Fall-ish
Still pretty warm though...
but the muse is here
spreading the creative seed 
EXCELLANT

And now for something different;

Key Lime pie at Hanelei Bay, (Kauaii)
A trip through the "old" drawings stack.
[circa 1998]
still fresh as ever.

last drop of summer...

Summer is still hanging around here...
temps still hitting 100ºs


Fall must be getting backed up by now
when it finally hits
we'll know for sure.


Meanwhile, Rovaniemi, Finland
(on the Arctic Circle)
still hasn't seen snow.
Tee shirt weather in the Arctic??
I just dunno.