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About Me

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Hello, whoever you are looking in. Hello.
I am Canadian but my name is not Joe. I do not ride very often in a dogsled though when the opportunity arises, I take the opportunity. I live where it snows until everything familiar is made new and clean. And bitterly cold. I know how to spell summer and look forward each year to this mysterious and elusive season.
I write. I sing. I do a lot of things that are really not your concern. [short interlude of nonsense] Vem baba oopuh loopa ding dong zig zag boom jagalag dikkadikka jingjing jong bangagong get along sing a song drop a line say something fine make it rhyme give me a little just a little bit of a life line.
Sometimes in the basement when no one else is around, I play my guitar and work out a tune. I think my songs aren't particularly uplifting but they emerge from somewhere and it seems I must sing them. Most are recorded without too much technical expertise but I upload them anyway. I've uploaded some of my spoken word works-in-progress too, mostly because I think it's pretty sad if I am the only one listening to my voice reading out loud what it is I've written. Pathetic.
I believe in love and peace, authenticity and friendship, respect and knowledge, laughter, and listening to the wild birds sing. I believe in the goodness of each person and in giving something back to this great but troubled world we all inhabit together right now.
Maybe you'll find something here that's meant for you. Maybe you'll feel like you've been to the zoo. I don't have any control over that but I'm still glad you bothered to visit, so thanks.
Peace.

My Interests

Music:

Member Since: 21/08/2007
Band Website: Here we are now. This is it.
Band Members: One. Stable. Imp.
Influences:The birds, the bees, the hiss of the trees; the sky, the rock, falling on my knees; the wind, the sun, the whisper of leaves; the large, the small, swinging from the eaves; the laughing, the crying, the swift, and the slow; the jerk, the angel, the hobo down below; the smile, the jeer, the far, and the near; the hope, the desire the straight, and the queer; the mother of invention, the father of everyman, the cup, the bottle, the sallow, and the tan; the sweet, the sour, the decade, and the hour; the lonely, the wise, the kick, and the prize; the aria, the howl, the dove, and the cow; the past, the present, the here, and the now; the living, the dead, what goes on inside my head; the waiting, the arrival, the grace of survival; the feather, the bullet, the kind, and the mean; the stupid, the wise, and every thing in between.

Sounds Like: Something I once might have thought or seen or felt or dreamed.

Record Label: Unlabeled.
Type of Label: Indie

My Blog

Nine Years

Nine years ago today I was in that hospital when you stopped breathing.Nine years pass quickly I have decided.I remember that deafening silence in those few seconds when I was standing there. Alone bu...
Posted by on Tue, 09 Jun 2009 22:36:00 GMT

Cool

Cool. The thing you don't understand, I'd like to say, is that you cannot buy your way into cool. I'd like to be able to save him the trouble. Of making an ass of himself, I mean.But I am not his, or ...
Posted by on Wed, 03 Jun 2009 20:41:00 GMT

Sick [Ode to LG]

Just as I passedI saw youbalding grey headtiltedbitter mouth slackyou parked your caron the grassThere, a few feet awaypeople touchthis is a sad partyits staggering howstrangers eyesor an arm can he...
Posted by on Fri, 29 May 2009 21:45:00 GMT

Prison Penpal

I was thinking about youon Wednesdaybecause I found the pagein my photo albumthe one full of peoplewhose names I can't rememberYou are there, in black and whitemy prison penpalI used to write to every...
Posted by on Fri, 29 May 2009 11:03:00 GMT

The Beauty of Real Conversation

Sometimes, in a group setting, I don't speak much. You can wait forever for a pause in the discussion, for an indication that the speaker[s] is up for listening, for giving up the floor. A lot of peop...
Posted by on Tue, 26 May 2009 05:48:00 GMT

Sand

In the dreamthe sand blinds uscovers over the repetitive landscapeso that our footprintslift offblow away in the windso that when it stops to inhalewe open our eyesslowlylet the veil slip awayto view ...
Posted by on Mon, 25 May 2009 20:25:00 GMT

A Man in a Van

Can you make a living doing that, I wonder? Filling your 1978 Econoline van with blankets and pipes and flags and then driving from town to town, parking in a conspicuous spot, hang up the blankets an...
Posted by on Fri, 15 May 2009 10:05:00 GMT

Answering the Unanswered

Not having ananswerNor asking aquestionIt seems soapproposTo seek aspaceTo show asignThat somebody somewherereadTo post a postbe it lamebe it boastfullTakes at leasta steppremeditatedToo late toeraseO...
Posted by on Wed, 13 May 2009 05:58:00 GMT

Full

Goddammit sometimes I don't wanna know the stuff about people that I know.Rewind. Erase.We are all innocent.Begin again.
Posted by on Mon, 11 May 2009 23:51:00 GMT

The Visit

Not knowing your favourite flowerI bring you my ownat least mine today Your eyes stay closedbut you speakwords out of time You say lets goAnd I singsome kind of answer You whisper bringit to me!and I...
Posted by on Sun, 10 May 2009 15:08:00 GMT