WALKING ON THIN ICE

“I believe that it is better to tell the truth than a lie. I believe it is better to be free than to be a slave. And I believe it is better to know than to be ignorant.”  - H.L. Mencken

my god is efficiency mixed with harmony - with a dash of grace. harmony incorporates morality, justice, kindness, fairness. grace combines style and cool with compassion and understanding. my motto is do as you would be done, which is much more than simply do no harm - it implies the need to give, do good, create good, leave your corner your world your earth better than you found it.

“It doesn’t take a majority to make a rebellion; it takes only a few determined leaders and a sound cause.”  - H.L. Mencken

this is my last blog until we get hooked up in Abeilhan, France - could be 4-5 days… unless we find a cyber cafe along the way. we leave Liznjan, Croatia, Friday 6 a.m. for 2 bus rides thru Croatia to Italy and 4 train rides thru Italy and Southern France. it will be 20 hours of travel and 13 hours of waiting… i think we have a wait problem here.

our bus to pula starts full and fills fuller in multiple stops over 7 villages.  and 95% of the passengers get out at the same stop, bursting from both ends of the bus at what i call the pimple pop bus stop fill spill.

schnapps shot - everywhere we go in croatia, folks give us free shots of homemade schnapps (brandy / cognac) made from figs, plums, lemons, potatoes.  kathy drinks hers, then drinks mine since i’m 16 years sober. if ever there were a place to jump wholeheartedly off the wagon, this would be it.

Andy of The Literary Cafe has 4 online videos of kathy and me reading our poetry:

video of Kathy Ireland Smith reading poetry -
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7513672251313055926
5 minutes 47 seconds on November 3, 2005

3 videos of Steven B. Smith reading poetry -
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8195605166064533016
8 min 3 sec on November 3, 2005

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7433576996491571798&hl=en
1 minute 45 seconds on June 8, 2006

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7056126010195246918
59 seconds on July 13, 2006

The Lit has a great many great poets documented with videos and fotos - their monthly readings are the second thursday of the month in Tremont (Cleveland) Ohio USA… check them out at http://literarycafe.net/blog/poetry-page/

“It is inaccurate to say that I hate everything. I am strongly in favor of common sense, common honesty, and common decency. This makes me forever ineligible for public office.” - H.L. Mencken

mailed 8 of kathy’s new art pieces home, plus 1 of mine - possibly for a late spring show at Marcus Bale’s Gallery 324 in the Galleria.  as soon as we got home from mailing, she started 5 new pieces. she’s been bitten by the art bug, become an art junky - i can see the art monkey on her back saying “feed me.”  i’m proud i helped her unleash her monster. as for me - i’m a writer first, artist second, poet third, publisher fourth. in my beginning was the word, and word will be my end.

we’re taking 6 of her assemblages and putting them around the stone arch in Pula as free art. sit off and see if we can foto anyone taking some. the arch, called the golden gate, was erected between 29 and 27 b.c. - maybe 40 foot high, 25 foot wide.

“Every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under.” - H.L. Mencken

the World Health Organization ranks America’s healthcare system 37th best in the world, just above Slovenia, and just below Costa Rica. (And far below Colombia, Cyprus, Saudi Arabia and Morocco.) - February 2, 2007, CommonDreams.org

and yet america spends more on her defense budget each year ($500 billion per year) than the rest of the world’s defense budgets combined.  seems killing is much more important to america than healing.

“I believe that all government is evil, and that trying to improve it is largely a waste of time.” - H.L. Mencken

In June 2003, a month after Bush declared the end of major combat operations in Iraq, 18 U.S. troops were killed by hostile fire. Last month, hostile fire killed 82 American troops. - February 4, 2007, McLatchy Newspapers

wow - that’s a 455% monthly increase in american soldier dead in 3.6 years.  bush is running up our dead soldier count the same way he’s running up our national debt. way to go georgie boy. we’ve not only gone through the looking glass, we’rve gone through the looking glass behind the looking glass.  it’s opposite world, where whatever the government says means just the opposite. we give tax money to the rich… we kill for peace… we punish & overthrow legally elected democratic governements in the name of democracy… we ask the foxes to guard the hens… we’re way beyond alice in wonderworld.

martha gellhorn - “never believe governments, not any of them, not a word they say; keep an untrusting eye on all they do.”

This is just some of the art I’ve created here. I’ll probably post more later.

relic III

lady

offworld IV

offworld III

offworld II

the

relic II

offworld VI

offworld V

This morning is gilt yellow with sun. We’ve had a string of beautiful days. When I wake up these mornings, I see stars out the window.

Steve’s occupied doing the laundry. Hearing him do the domestic chores is a type of holy thing. He opened our bedroom door to air out the room and he hung our blankets out the window in the chill air. Out the back door, fresh wet laundry hangs from pins. Water drops from the lowest hanging points of clothes, glistening crystal in the morning sun before it falls. Seeing him take care of these things warms me, makes me feel loved.

Liznjan is a small town. I think there are 1500 inhabitants. There are three little grocery stores in town and they mostly sell the same items. I don’t understand how the little town supports all these stores. I guess people must do most of their shopping for staples locally.

Also there’s a butcher shop near the closest grocer. We went there this morning. I’m not accustomed to being acknowledged, being known by the clerks at stores. I think that since we’re foreign, we stand out in peoples’ minds. But it’s pleasant. The butcher understands me well and he ground up some turkey for me. I pointed to it and asked in Croatian, “please, turkey like this, one kilo.” And I pointed to some ground beef.

In the grocery store, I asked, “Do you have a big empty box?” in Croatian. I was so pleased that I was clearly understood. Plus, I understood the response. The clerk said, “I have,” and then she went to the back to get one.

It seems that such things should be simple. But even when I know how words are spelled and know them by heart, it’s difficult for people to understand me because of my accent. So most of the time they speak to me in German, or English if it’s in bigger towns. Sometimes I think they’d rather practice their English than allow me to practice my Croatian. Only recently am I able to understand a little of what people say. The words blur together and go by so quickly. And still, I have to have a grasp on the context in which things are said. Usually the conversations on the bus are a mystery. Even though I understand every other word, it’s not enough.

We also made the recent trip to Italy, so I refreshed my Italian. For a couple days, I was mixing up my Croatian with Italian. Sometimes people in this part of Croatia mix Italian words in normal everyday conversation. There is a large Italian population here.

Now I’m refreshing my knowledge of French. I understand a lot of written French, but I know that I’ll have to develop an ear for it when I get there next week.

interesting dream night. at a party, i saw six 18 inch tall singing dancing swaying rainbow colored women called glanfs - they were red green yellow blue orange and violet. but when i talked to them, i found there was really just one - the blue one, and she was blind. the rest were harmonics of her. she was sad she couldn’t see them, so i promised i’d help her see. i went around to the folks at the party asking for help, but they thought i was part of an interactive party game and paid me no mind. the party goers disappeared, and i found myself stealing a car in cleveland. i felt bad and returned it. then went back and stole it again. but when i drove it off this time, there was a baby in a basket on the car hood where the ornament should be. i didn’t want to hurt the baby, and tried to figure out how to return the car safely. my plan was to park the car on the other side of the street and take off running, but i worried the baby wouldn’t be found in time. i wiped my fingerprints off and went in a coffee shop to think out my strategy - where i got caught by the teenage owner when he recognized the yellow tape measure i was playing with in my hand. i was lying my way out of the situation when i woke.

we have 3 more days here - then 33 hours of non-stop moving on to the south of france for two months.  i like being places. i like arriving places. i don’t like getting ready to leave, or the going in between. either have to learn to like it, or stop doing it. but once you’ve sold your home, disposed of your possessions, and are on the road, how do you stop? where do you settle? what do you do there? we’re in our seventh month of moving on. might make two years, might not. where we’ve been is not where we want to be. where we will be is somewhere down an unknown road. it’s maybe yes, maybe no, mostly maybe. the doing is the essence, the done but distant dream.

we listened to a cd of kathy’s grandfather’s recent memorial service. such things are for the living, not the dead. having said that, if i’ve any input to what happens after i’m gone, there will be no preachers, no churches, no hymns - the only music allowed will be bob dylan. any folk gathered around my cremated existence will be there for a good time, to have fun, party, dance, joke, read poetry, and rail against the government.  they can only tell stories about me if they include my sins and mistakes.

after mother dwarf died, i had a private ceremony - just two dead and myself down among the rocks of lake erie where i freed mom’s and my 18-year-dead brother cat’s ashes (words and images at www.agentofchaos.com/labrats.html#ash). but whatever kathy needs and feels right for her will be okay by me. it’s got to be rough knowing someone you love will likely die before you. but we’re all walking down death’s road. how odd - there are billions heading day by day to their final exit, yet we all walk alone.

shortly after mom’s death i wrote this:

   No Wailing Offense

   There will be
   No tears
   No wailing
   No gnashing of teeth
   When I go
   When I’m gone  
   When I die
   When my flesh
   Is sold
   For packets to eat
   Or door stop
   What knot
   Plot not
   Best to burn me baby
   Use me as sand
   Grit to rough the bland
   Just call me
   Oyster helper
   Pearl point
   Beginning irritant
   Smooth in end

music videos here show full female nudity - breasts, nipples, buttocks, pubic hair. no male nudity because the music industry objectifies women as toys for men - even the female singers’ videos show women as sex objects. so much for sister solidarity. croatian tv doesn’t censor any male or female nudity in the movies shown, including full frontal - and leaves in all language, no matter how crude. america censors nudity and language, but feels okay showing guns, rape, mayhem, murder. go figure. flesh is foul but killing’s ok?  it seems more american’t than american, a violation of the freedoms we fought for. welcome to the american’t express.

standing in the park in pula croatia, i smelled marijuana smoke.  such a sweet smell.  looked upwind to three school boys smoking on lunch break.  thought about asking where i could buy some, but somehow think a 60 year old 6 foot 3 inch male asking to buy dope would spook them. there’s also the morality of contributing to teenage lawlessness, though i sure wish someone would contribute to mine. god knows how ancient i would have looked to those 14 year olds. my body’s old but my brain and outlawness ain’t. been over 3 months since i smoked grass - longest since i went without for 11 months in 1970. i could even pass a drug test now for the first time in 36 years. once i find grass again, possibly in spain in 2 months, i’ll begin my 40th year of marijuana study.

there was an american in pula who was going to help us get a poetry reading. he abruptly stopped emailing us. since he had met kathy and i for coffee, and was as anti-bush as i am, i have to assume my frequent marijuana references in the blog scared him off - or my criminal past. i can understand that - i’m not for everyone… my past and present are too rich and odd for most folk’s blood. or maybe he’s just busy. we’ve all got our own lives to live. and they’re all full, complicated, and time consuming, so i don’t blame anyone when they don’t follow through. that’s just the way it is. been too many times i’ve not followed through for others myself. the point is though, i’m a good guy now - moral, mostly law abiding, with a lot of truly funny stories about my not-so-funny past. kathy and i are working 260 pages of true stories about my errant ways into a manuscript to shop around - and it is laugh out loud funny stuff. once told one of my bosses i had a checkered past, and she said “smith, you have a checkered present.”

kathy thinks i am too honest about my love of grass and my lack of respect for cheney bush in my online comments. i understand her concerns - these are scary times in america, what with the thought police and the religious wrong hunting down and hurting those who disagree with them, and the murderous lying thugs in the white house doing pretty much the same. but as bob dylan said, “to live outside the law, you must be honest.”  once you start basing your life on honesty, it’s impossible to go back. i can’t give in to the flat earthers - it would be a moral sin.

There’s a cult of African ants who construct arched hives, but only when populous enough. Until then, they specialize in false starts, When enough exist - not enough workers, or enough pushers, or enough grasshopper guards, but simply enough ants - mass mind kicks in and arches arch. Pre-mind arches arch up and over till over. Mass-Mind inserts keystone.

Why do more ant units = keystone logic? What evolutionary advantage accrue arched ants? No Ant Popes? No Arch Ant Conservatives? No SubCult MassMind McDonald franchises? (tho believe too late for latter’s prevention.)

Ant politicians must be one happy critter: for once it IS quantity, NOT quality.

The Texas rabbits I understand. They reach critical population density, they develop nervous disorder, they die. Make room for daddy

Which are we? Mass Mind in bloom of blossom? Or rabbit run?

every day the two dogs which kathy wrote about in her poem (in the previous blog) stop by, scratch at the kitchen door and ask if steve can come out and play. i go out, pet them for a few minutes as they bounce about, then send them on their way. i’ve never been visited daily by dogs before.  i feel honored i’m part of their path. at least once a week they catch kathy and i on our walks and run with us.  wonder how long it will take for them to stop stopping by after we go. i’ll miss them, our hosts, and istria (istria is the upper left triangular nipple of croatia hanging down into the adriatic sea to the right of italy).

one of the 5 art shows i was in in 2006 before leaving america last august is now online… Blends & Bridge - A Continuum of Visio-Textual Art.  my 5 pieces in the show may be seen at http://www.bigbridge.org/bgcatalog66.htm

basic info:  Bob Grumman, co-curator, along with Wendy Collin Sorin and John Byrum, of the “Blends & Bridges” visual poetry show in Cleveland in April, 2006, has created an excellent documentary of the show on the Big Bridge website… Nearly every work in the show is documented at http://www.bigbridge.org/bgpreface.htm.

thanks to John Byrum for letting me be part of the show.  John and i go back a ways - he in my early ArtCrimes, and i in his Generator Press. with Jim Lang, John M. Bennett and George Fitzpatrick, we were in the Writing Vision, Visual Writing show in 1990 at the Willoughby School of the Fine Arts - the second show in which some of my pieces were censored (the first being Tri-C West). John’s publication can be found at http://www.generatorpress.com/.