Recipe Time!

This is a favorite recipe of mine, one I concocted myself. It works with pretty much any meat you care to use, but I will say "chicken" for the sake of the recipe. Vegetarians, you're out of luck I'm afraid. The amounts are rough estimates as I just sort of eyeball it when I'm actually cooking. I call it "Thermite" chicken because it's hot, powerful, and quite simple to make.


Thermite Chicken

1 - 1 1/2 lbs. boneless chicken pieces  
1/2 cup Greek yogurt
1/2 cup honey
1/4 - 1/3 cup Sriracha chili sauce
1/3 cup finely chopped fresh mint
1 oz. bourbon

 If using chicken breasts, cut into about 1" strips. Boneless thighs are the perfect size. Place chicken in bowl and add other ingredients. Gently but thoroughly mix with a spoon until sauce becomes homogeneous. Let marinade for 6-12 hours. There are two ways to cook this.

Method 1:
  Cook on a hot pan with a little bit of oil until the chicken pieces start to brown and caramelize.

Method 2:
  Cook the pieces for several minutes on each side over a charcoal (or propane if you must) grill until internal temperature reaches 165° F.

There, it's very, very easy. You'll spend more time preparing the marinade than actually cooking. The yogurt and bourbon both cause chemical changes in the meat as it marinades, giving this dish its unique flavors and color and the honey, in addition to making it sweet, acts as an emulsifier, keeping the yogurt and hot sauce from separating. Enjoy!

A Long Poem

I wrote this last year. It's a lot of free-association and stream-of-consciousness writing, based largely on imagery from my dreams and shamanic trances.

Recurrence

Dreams of rows and rows of books.

Old friend.

I climb the mountain every night but never reach the top.

Absorb the memories all around me.

Never gone, never at rest.

Fluid thoughts spin into maelstrom, dragging down in whorls of anxiety.

Maintain focus.

Focus.

Focus…

Gordian knot inside me. What blade is there will slice it?

A mountain descends beneath me, the valley covered with haze.

I've been here many many times, different yet always the same.

I hear a mourning train below; its wails drift up a steady dirge.

I hold a cistern of worries, no room for ecstasy.

It seems no matter where i go; i find i'm always here.

Reality is tenuous here.

I shift back and forth but never truly break free.

Time and space are fluid, like a pearl of mercury.

I jump off of the precipice. I know i won't fall long.

I find myself somewhere else.

Still i fall inside.

Always falling.

Falling.

Falling…

Surrounded by stories and flights of stairs

That go on to nothing forever.

Designed by a madman with no regard for physics,

I follow them up and find myself down.

I follow them down and find myself up.

I know that others are lost here too.

I hear them from time to time.

How they got here i don't know.

I thought this world was solely mine.

Are they truly here at all? Was this place made for me?

Freedom beckons when morning comes.

But now is not yet time.

A subconscious addiction that i dwell here every night.

A world that seems so spacious yet a prison nonetheless.

People flicker in and out

like light through the leaves of a tree.

Flickering too my hatred and rage;

Blaming those who deserve it or not.

I want them all to go away. I want the solitude.

But still feel lost when all alone.

Isolation takes over my mind and my soul.

Bits of me are taken,

piece by tiny piece.

Some i let go willingly;

Most are torn away.

Advantage never mine.

Always forcing.

Forcing.

Forcing...

My way to where i don't belong.

I learn that soon enough.

Forests thick with choked out light

have no boundaries that i can find.

Always in some kind of trap,

a labyrinth

i can't unwind.

No one seems to know it yet,

but i do not belong here.

Alien though i am, this place was made for me.

This place was made by me.

Camping parks and shanty towns;

I saw her naked once.

This dilapidated building, full of

dirt and bugs;

I know it belongs to me.

I know this house.

Amalgam.

Sometimes pristine.

Sometimes almost nothing left but

dust and insects.

Empty lots, abandoned for eons,

full the echoes of whispers of people long gone.

Temptation and a trap,

this emptiness.

Swirl around my head the memories of these people.

Some memories my own,

others borrowed.

This road is short to nowhere,

from the edge of populous into forever.

One side leads only to the other.

Restless and listless,

i no longer want to move anywhere or anytime.

I've been here too long already.

Wooden boards beneath my feet, sinking slowly into the ground.

They weren't properly secured.

Scrub around a lack of morals, warped from the very beginning.

I belong here less than i did yesterday and

more than i will tomorrow.

This house it haunts me every night.

Always different,

shifting,

transmorphing,

but i recognize it nonetheless.

The stairs appear with semi-regularity,

a secret room behind them.

Never very welcome, but always present when i'm able.

Pristine walls and clinical sterility

turn my nerves on end,

tweak them.

I want to leave.

I want to scream a roar

to shake the foundations of this cursed place.

I'm wound like a coil that's about to snap.

Country home design here is more than i can bear.

I want out but the stairs and doors

shift and disappear.

Make solid the immaterial,

the secret bring forth to the light.

Control the fluid aspects of reality here.

It is difficult.

God please let me out.

Set me free.

Make this stop.

Let me be.

Movement is restricted.

Lust seeps through my mind and soul.

Occasional control.

Occasional control.

Only one haven here, water and sand so small and stretching to infinity.

No boundaries left,

open,

exposed,

but finally safe.

Sunless warmth envelops me, comforting finally.

Safety and regression.

Ships sail on the horizon.

Sails of white glimmer then disappear.

I think it's the edge of the universe,

this safe and cozy place.

I think it's the edge of nowhere.

Beyond the reach of time and space.

Fly, i can fly,

but i'm drawn towards the shore.

This place is the calmest

but i can't stay here any more.

Drilling rigs and buoys dot the seascape

breaking up the space.

Light is low but bright

from no discernible source.

The ground is dry,

cracked like a crocodile skin.

Beyond the edge of nowhere.

Becoming less tangible now.

Interrupt.

   Interrupt.

Stop...

Stop...

Come to a

Stop.

 

Skulls: Why They're Cool

  You see these every October (well, year round for that matter), the calaveras de azúcar, and representations of them. You probably even know that they're Mexican in origin and are displayed and eaten ("de azúcar" means they're made of sugar if you didn't already know that) for what is known in English as All Souls' Day. The idea is to remember the souls of the dead, our friends and family who have passed on. I am not going to delve further into Day of the Dead right now, but if you want to know more, check out Wikipedia: Day Of the Dead. (If you like the calavera above, you can buy the skull shirt here.

  My point is that skulls seem to be inevitably associated with death. It's easy to see why; when we die and decompose, pretty quickly under natural circumstances the bones are all that's left of a body. The skull is the most readily recognizable bone too. It's easy to tell at a glance if a skull is human or at least what family of animal it came from, and with the exception of modern imaging techniques, the only time you will see someone's whole skull is if they are in fact, dead. Despite this, I do not usually associate skulls with death (and when I do it's not about being morbid, more on that in a bit), and I wanted to explain why.

  Think for a second about what the skull does. First and foremost it protects the brain, pretty arguably the seat of conciousness. No brain, not much life, and the brain is a tender little organ. You can ask the zombie who just got an axe embedded in his. Not only is the body's center of operations inside the skull, but it also protects some of the most basic and important sensory organs, with neat little spaces for each: eyes, ear canals, nose cavity, mouth for our tongue. It is designed to protect these too, and for the most part does a really good job. The skull is an amazing organ, owned by most creatures with an endoskeleton, and whether you believe God whipped it up in his lab or it is the culmination of millions of years of evolution, this is still the case.

  Then there are aesthetics. Or to put it more simply, "Skulls look freakin' cool!" There is the fact that human skulls seem to be permanently grinning. I am sorry but I do not find this creepy at all but rather a little funny. Every time I stare at a skull I find myself grinning in return. Skulls looks happy to me. That makes me happy. The lines and curves of the form are really nifty too; there's a great flow to the way skulls fit together. The pointy curves of the nasal socket, the smooth roundness of the eyes, the way the lower mandible just fits into the cranium... Spiffy.

 

(This skull built using numbers and text, or ASCII for those fluent in Geek. Skull T-shirt here.) 

  I'll wrap up now with one last point. Even when skulls are used as a reminder of death, I do not see this as something morbid or sinister. I see reminders of mortality as reminders of life. You only die after you've lived, so live. Make the most of the life you've been given. Memento Mori. Remember Death, but remember the flip side of the coin, Life, and don't waste it! Skulls are a reminder of that attitude to me. See them also as a reminder of those who are dead who we miss and want to remember. Mexican Catholics have the right idea there as far as I'm concerned.

  Remember the Dead, remember Life, and have a happy Halloween!

First Entry

I have decided to use this website as my new primary method of communication with the world (Twitter insanity excluded). I will post art here, old paintings still available for sale, new ones as I paint them, updates on my book as I finish pages, featured t-shirt designs, recipes, and who knows what else. I'm still setting it up, and there's not much to see right now, but soon there will be, so please come back! So you have something interesting to look at, here is an old painting of mine. The original was sold long ago but prints are still available at the posted link. Enjoy!

"Koi" Print