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...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )

Archive for June, 2013

me mirror her

Sunday, June 16th, 2013

Lady K – foto Smith

They claim couples start looking like each other after seven years . . .

me – foto Lady K


Un Bar Code Bound

Friday, June 14th, 2013

greensmith – foto Smith

Un Bar Code Bound

I’m a good sun-riser
walk out morning’s door
losing last night’s bad advisor

So why must I
acknowledge or interact
with the so-called real?

Hold your horses
while I weigh, heft, sniff, taste
judge intrinsic worth

My life is rather
big to me, small to others
scoffed by some

Always wondered where
Lost Nation Road went
and how they knew

Because if it’s lost
where’d they map it?
How’d they know they’re there?

Do know I want to flow
off planet, outside grid
beyond brim

Fly why through sky
shed earthbound lies
for free-life high

– Smith, 6.14.2013

Hmmmmmmmmmm – foto Smith


he she he shaved heads

Thursday, June 13th, 2013

Don’t even bother – foto Smith

One hot July day 2010 after Lady had cut all her hair off and shaved her scalp during one of her paradigm reality shifts, our door buzzed and she went down to answer it. She was gone an inordinate amount of time so I went down to see what was what.

She was talking to two 50-some well-fed women who were trying to convince her to let them come up and read the bible to us.

Lady is 5 foot 5 inches tall . . . the bible women’s eyes widened as they saw me come down, 10 inches taller and 27 years older, also with a shaved head.

They were slow to accept my no and after more spiel our landlord who is the drummer for the math metal band Keelhaul poked his head out the door behind us, curious. He is halfway between Lady and me in both age and height — he has a shaved head and we both have facial hair.

By now the bible ladies are thoroughly confused, confronted by two males and a female of different ages and heights, all with shaved heads, me thinking they’re wondering what kind of cult lives here. They decide to move on to some hair people.

Lately they’ve returned a bit too frequently to ring our landlord’s back bell, and his new wife, a sweet gentle gal just over from Greece, got tired of their constant interruptions and posted a We Worship Satan Don’t Bother Knocking sign on their door . . . t’ain’t true, but it worked.

I’m more live and let live . . . you believe what you need to to get through this life, but I’ve worked out my own lies thank you very much so please no need to stop to slop your beliefs over mine.

After all I’ve managed to get through 67 years so far and have lived extraordinary adventures, which makes me older and more experienced than the door knockers, so I’ll take my operating system over theirs any day of the meek because mine is thoroughly field tested and has gotten me through more scrapes and sticky wickets than most folk ever see.

I no u r but what am I? – foto Smith



Thursday, June 13th, 2013

What good gardens can be planted
without you good dogs
digging them up and up again
to say
those there bones
been buried
that those there bones
are what happened
bringing them up and up again
good dogs
favorite bone to eschew about

Good dog
railing, you hold fast to them bones
or is it me seeing you rail
and wondering at the holding fast
holding you fast
quicksand or looking for you in it

Good dog
I look and I look for you out of it
I look for you out of it
you are getting out of it
you are getting out of it now
just now
I see
just now
you are getting out of it,
lion rose turner

Good dogs being dogs

What kind of good gardens
even the smallest monkey
in the world
can grow them

Even an elephant can know them

(An elephant
looking at its
own knees, tail, trunk
an elephant
in a mirrored room)

Who would carry the lamp
looking for,
most always the good?

Spoons be bent and unbent
good dogs be dogs
good gardens grow too

~ Lady


memento William Pope.L’s Cleveland Pull!

Monday, June 10th, 2013

memento of William Pope.L’s Cleveland Pull! w/ SPACES Gallery June 7-9, 2013
fotos Smith


Pope.L People Pull, Cleveland Edition

Sunday, June 9th, 2013

William Pope.L – foto Smith

We helped pull an 8-ton truck a mile or two yesterday during the Cleveland PULL! put together by internationally-renowned performance artist William Pope.L and SPACES Gallery.

It takes 15 people per each 3-hour shift to pull the truck from the east side of Cleveland to the west side for three days straight . . . eight people pull from the front, more push, while others police the sides for traffic and obstructions.

It’s amazingly easy to pull an 8-ton truck on level road once you’re moving, a bit harder getting the truck going, harder still to turn corners, and downright difficult going up hills.

Our shift had folk from upscale Avon Lake, the much poorer near west and east sides, and the way richer Pepper Pike, so it’s an exercise in getting disparate cultural, racial, geographic and economic groups which would normally never intermingle to interact. Our Avon Lake guy had never been in the Hough area of Cleveland where we were pulling (which burned back in 1966 during the Hough riots) and was surprised how lovely it was.

Not only did this get a wide variety of people together, but it was an excellent example of what can be accomplished by cooperation and teamwork . . . besides the 15-person pulling teams there were an abundance of support people involved as well as an amazing amount of planning and interacting with all the neighborhood governments for permits along the way.

As we pulled the truck through the neighborhood, fotos, slides and videos were projected onto the screen covering the back of the cargo bay featuring images of people working that had been submitted by Clevelanders (including fotos by Lady and I).

At the end of our pulling shift, we were treated to dinner by the City Rising Farm community gardens with music by the North Bayou Ramblers. Part of dinner was potatoes baked right there in their earthen oven.

It was what an art happening should be — fun, informative, positive, socially relevant and community oriented.

Plus we got to sign the truck with our names.

the Pope.L / SPACES Cleveland Pull! June 7-9, 2013 – fotos Smith


Chiplis art studio scraps

Friday, June 7th, 2013

high voltage – foto Smith

New shots from Chiplis studio.
See Chiplis found neon sculptures >
Next week: fotos of permanent Chiplis piece at new Cleveland Convention Center.

studio of Jeff Chiplis – fotos Smith



Thursday, June 6th, 2013

Somewhere something somehow takes the best of live and let live and our duty towards ourselves and each other, and doesn’t sacrifice one for the other.

Somewhere, some the, some how and some hows, the dividing lines that shift. Rules from experience tempered by current.

I believe it has to do with communication, and tone. Communication, and tone. Or communication. If communication isn’t respectful, is it really communication?

Is communication part of communion?

Can we do transformations on a pocket to turn it in and out and in and out such that it is OK from the turning? So can I think and think and know when it feels OK to stop, or when I should talk and talk and stop and resume whatever helps or just lay there for a while and let that help?

If I turn just so, if I turn just so, I feel that it fits, like clay on a wheel, turned just so… clay created into.. something satisfying, even beautiful.

There are rules, sure, but pots don’t have to be the same. Pots come into their own as they are, according to the current of the moment.

Meme, that, the current of the moment. Does water have memory? Is the memory the channel through which water flows? Does water remember being frozen, being cloud, falling as rain? Is water always new again and new again and new? Is water our substance by which we know newness, purity and endurance?

~ Lady


Sir Laugh-a-lot of Pot-a-lot

Monday, June 3rd, 2013

MaryJane – foto Smith

Old Debbil Weed

If Eve hadn’t given Adam that apple
I wouldn’t be smoking today
Even so
I tried to serve Sky God
but I was drawn to that old Debbil Weed
I became a happy pappy
papa puff daddy
gadfly to gladly
nouveau bohemian in old school crowd
Sir Laugh-a-Lot of Pot-a-Lot
to Queen MaryJane
Lady Day to Lady K
Kafka to a kiss

– Smith w/Lady K, 2006

none for me, thank you – foto Smith
(both fotos from Giant Eagle super food store yesterday)


cave slaves to new angels

Sunday, June 2nd, 2013

either the Red Skull, or 2 ladybugs copulating
(would that make them lesbian bugs?)
also see an owl where the skull mouth is – foto Smith

I researched what the different generations are called so you wouldn’t have to.

Cave Slaves 1,000,000 BC – 1 BC
New Crew 1 AD – 1806
History Mysteries 1807 – 1825
Slo Mo 1826 – 1844
Old Mold 1845 – 1863
Pre-Bes 1864 – 1882
Lost Generation 1883-1900
Greatest Generation 1901 – 1924
Silent Generation 1925 – 1944
Baby Boomers 1945 -1964
Generation X 1965 -1982
Millenials 1983 – 2001
Aught Lost 2002 – 2020
Warm Ones 2021 – 2058
Regressed Stressed 2059 -2100
New Angels 2101 – 1,000,000 AD

Generational divide – foto Smith


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