while walking this morning on my way to school i found two roma tomatoes lying lonely on the side of the road. with striking contrast from bright red in a world of gritty flustered grey blotches and stains they became something much more then two roma tomatoes lost in the street.......as of now they are my new friends. Bev and Wilson. though tonight there will be a sacrificial ceremony where they will assimilate into the evening pasta. but as of now anything could happen: Bev is about three inches wide with a special luster to her fragile fibrous skin, has a peculiar accent maybe derived from North Carolina. a strong willed tomato that has been on several adventures all over the world. 

just three weeks ago while on a hot air balloon scanning the Greek islands for improper handling of the endangered species of Caretta sea turtle Bev spotted an off shore ship sailing to the west with the words "Panda Express" written just atop the barnacles plastered along the side. with an immense passion for Panda bears Bev navigated the balloon to reach alongside the boat traveling at a gusty 43 knots. her intentions as of yet were unknown. for the spontaneity of her character is what willed her into such a circumstance.

maybe she would capture a Panda as a pet for a brief period of time only to take it back to its mother land and release it back into the jungle? maybe she will join the crew for breakfast tea and discuss their adventures across the great oceans and beyond? 

 it turns out the crew had also spotted Bev, given that she was floating distinctively nearby with all the multi colorful patterns of her balloon reflecting the mornings sun like a brightly lit lollipop. but this was far from encouraging a sweet tooth hunger as one might have hoped from the grizzly faced and sun-beaten sea farers. for they were on a mission. to take these stolen pandas to Paraguay. to sell them illegally to seven different zoos. seven pandas. seven zoos.

immediately a blazing sound of gun shots rang from the ships deck. Bev was curios at first then heavily alarmed for the gravity of the situation came rolling in at full force. her balloon was made of a light weight nylon fabric which could easily become punctured under the velocity as something as small and metallic as that of a bullet. soon enough the balloons envelope became distressed and mangled to form the shape of a discarded, crushed, flattened and creased can of beans. though Bev was nervous and experiencing a mild form of anxiety. she knew exactly what to do from an old james bond rerun she watched half soberly three years ago during her sophomore year in college.

given that tomatoes have no appendages she figured that the approximately 40 foot fall would only cause a minor splash and that her delicate skin would manage to slide gently beneath the surface of the water. in order that the crew would not notice her tomato like demeanor she put on a emergency snorkel mask and scuba tank that was stashed in the balloons basket.....hoping she could pass as a government agent of some powerful and elaborate country to possibly frighten her intruders into making irrational and potentially lucrative mistakes.

soon she found herself in mid air watching the horizon slowly stretch out to a more elongated width until finally the world of salt filled sea life came splashing initially to a haze of bubbles and indigo blue. at first Bev hoped to escape lazily underwater a few hundred feet bellow the surface. though once 200 feet bellow she noticed something questionably odd. at first it seemed that a ship the size of something enormous, maybe that of a small mountain, was navigating easily through the thickening haze of the Mediterranean deep. upon closer inspection she discovered tiny reflections of light emanating from within the seemingly solidified structure in question. these then began to separate piece by piece into individual self sustaining shapes tightly nestled together to resemble some kind of unified terrestrial formation. it then became clear. at last it is the lost city of the turtle.

while closer and still closer yet. millions of gracefully tuned and rhythmically aligned turtles swimming lazily through the semi transparent water came into view.

while seeming to be oblivious to the giant vessel and its long complicated strides. just then Bev felt a strange sensation from behind the oxygen tank strapped snuggly to her back.... before even allowed the slightest of struggles she felt herself encased within something elastic yet as  solid as steel. in probability the shell of a turtle.

minutes later. thrust into the open water of blinding and in comprehensive light. a shadow passed over the vast rays glinting from a multitude of inseparable angles. a voice then pressed against the misty haze and echoed from every corner of little Bevs now fragile and overly reflective body....as if the shards of light were holding tiny questions that were meant solely just for her. though having no voice to answer. the voice held rhythm though was impossible to decipher. more similar to the feeling when one sleeps and dreams that they are waking to begin their daily routines.

with the weight of thousands upon thousands of words..... the light began to dim until completely absent from the once overly abundant white sun stroked sea.

soon images from thousands of memories began to unfold into the water before her. memories of her tomato plant mother and father. her two hundred and sixteen siblings that she knew entirely by name. the time she once skidded her knee when falling off a skateboard in seventh grade outside Pinehurst junior high. her first kiss with that yellow squash hooligan from 42nd street, Eddy Winslow. as if tumbling through a mist of remorse and nostalgic longing. the images faded and before her appeared a seemingly three dimensional and familiar shape. that of another roma tomato. with a delicate golden crown embossed with a very sophisticated floral arrangement the tomato spoke:"hey hie, the names Wilson. pleased to meet ya." Wilson had the draw of a Texan that would speak in the manner as if burdened by the having to lug about a dusty half paralyzed stiffened leg that wobbled anxiously from side to side which one may refer to as a gimp. (to be continued.....)

end of term multimedia installation

i now have a space heater in my room. it has evidently changed the whole dynamics ofwinter. before i was just cold all the time in my home because the heating system lacks efficiency. now i just flip this switch and things go crazy. i mean my room gets really warm.

right now i am a little obsessed with turtles. my last series of paintings were all about turtles (i dont think i really told anybody that). but now the new paintings are not about turtles as much so i think i have them swimming around in my thoughts more. there have been two instances now where a few friends and i have laid down on our backs, closed our eyes and had what is now coined "turtle time". yeah i know it sounds a little silly but thats kind of the point. it has been mostly about narrating an adventure through the perspectives as turtles while i direct complex and slightly humorous scenarios. i help instigate a turtlelike venue which gives each person an opportunity to express themselves spontaneously through the mind and the eyes of a turtle.

my friend Ali has been making hundreds of wax flowers for an installation with our multimedia class. today she randomly had one made from wood and i asked her why it was made of wood and not wax so she gave it to me. the same day my roommates cousin gave me by chance a man purse which his exgirlfriend made when she was a child and then gave to him. i now have the wooden flower in the man purse and hope to save them for a rainy day.

the sun is outside today. the buildings look like giant lego sets. i recall the feeling of pulling legos apart with my teeth when i was very little.while thinking that i probably shouldn’t be using my teeth for such practical matters (my grandma was always good at letting this be known) and at the same time knowing that i have no other choice.

words of the day: swim, swarm, swing, swell, sing, song, sut

Friday morning several students from the photography program came with the professors and I to Lucca to visit the Lucca Digital Photography Festival. as soon as we step off the train the rain begins to blanket the entire city for the following six hours. with my lacking of an umbrella and the thin canvas exterior of my shoes i managed to get extremely cold and wet. it didn’t help that each exhibit that we ventured to was based in a building that was so old that it hadn’t acquired any kind of heating ventilation. i manage to get cold enough to decide to leave early and catch a train hoping that ill find a little warmth on my way home so that my socks can dry.. the train turned out to be as cold as the galleries but i did manage to find an umbrella in the trash on my walk through the rain. not just some average flimsy run of the mill umbrella but an extra large burgundy plaid with the colors pond green and murky blue. it was as if getting soaked in the rain for the previous few hours prepared me for such a find and wouldn’t have meant the same otherwise.

now since the rainy season has officially begun this sturdy umbrella has proven especially useful. with it being hopelessly shaped like an extravagant walking stick i find myself habitually twirling the umbrella between my fingertips. either when it is closed or while its opened and stretched out over my head. this has helped me become more aware of the nervous habits that i tend to pursue with my hands. far to often i catch myself playing with my beard or messing up my hair.... flipping a coin between my finger tips or touching the cement buildings i pass along the streets.

really the thing that surprises me most is that im constantly looking at bicycles to see if they have locks wrapped around them. now this doesn’t exactly relate to the nervous habits i have with my hands but might shed some light on my habits in a general way. its not like i want to steal a bicycle that isnt locked properly. i mean i already have a nice bicycle that i love very much. infact last weekend i suggested that two of my friends and i all ride on the bicycle. at the same time....together..... and by golly it worked! Alonzo rode on the handle bars and Danielle sat on the seat while i stood and pedaled. we sang Christmas carols and a Tom Jones song.......it was much easier then i would have expected....well at least till the handle bars loosened and the bicycle was impossible to navigate.

but back to the habit thing. i think since i had my bike stolen a couple months ago that at first i had hoped to spot my old bicycle randomly on some street corner mingling with others. i thought sure....the brown seat would have been a dead giveaway. but after a few weeks i slowly began to give up. it wasnt like i went out of my way searching for the darn thing. it just sort of passed the time. and then eventually when i got bored with that i began passing the time with trying to spot vulnerable bikes. like the way mine was before it was stolen...yeah i admit maybe when i find one i will take it for a joy ride. not too far though. just around the block or something at best. but until then i believe this habit will continue to occupy my time. maybe its the same with the umbrella. ill probably wait until the rainy season ends before i stop twirling. and then what? back to touching the cement walls and knocking street pole with my hands to hear what kind of sound resonates?

today i ate the best sandwich that ive had since i got rid of my toaster oven back in kalamazoo. it consisted of mozzarella, pesto, sun dried tomatoes, black olives and onions. in the cafe they were playing late eighties love songs. somehow i knew all the words and sang a little.... especially too Madonna. the people working were very happy and sang too. lately i cant stop thinking about the Top Gun soundtrack and this little rectangular pink boombox that my mom owned when i was a kid. i use to play the tape down in our basement as loud as it would go. sometimes my brother and i would take all the pillows off the couches and make a pile in the middle of the room. then we would position the exercise trampling so that we could jump off the couch onto the trampling into the air singing Highway to the Danger Zone! at the top of our lungs and land safely onto the cushions. this is before i stopped believing in Santa Clause. i aso memorized the bart simpson deep deep trouble song during this period of my life. actually i rapped it a little just last week. somehow both have managed their ways into my permanent memory.