bus roads

hale zukas c.d.r.

here is something i did finish and sent out about twenty,
the old band i was in with mark small, rob enbom from around 2002 to 2006
i took some of my favorite recordings and put together a cdr.
if you want one send me your address.
mail is the best.
libraries and schools are ok too.

wind up

the past week i have been spending all my free time (the hours between midnight and 8) working on this wind up music box idea; magnets and springs.
its so mesmerizing to play with them, meditation and muse all those things that
sound cheezy when talking about the creative process but are so real.
if i find myself constantly thinking and doodling about building something i know
that im lost in the project. its fleeting.
so many projects just visit me for a few days then get left in a heap in the past,
there is a sense of urgency about grabbing the obsession and desperately trying to see
it to completion. it fills me with fear and dread that i will fail, it
will be just another pile of stuff in my way, representing of a kind of sad sentiment and self judgement:
"damnit john, you never finish the idea!" "why is all this crap in your workspace?" "gawd john, what were you thinking??"
here i am agian, instead of going out and seeing people or working on something
i know i can finish, i am lost in something that is just ever so slightly out of reach.
now, time writing might better be spent listing off things i actually accomplished. like my friend lisa who went back and collected writing and published projects and compiled them into one site, i might feel better about this process.
however, its fascinating watching myself; discovering that im right dab in the middle
again of this frantic/desperate race with time over something that most people wouldn't
have any reason for doing. i don't want to be in the position of calling my self
misunderstood: for that matter i am resistant to even call this a
"creative process" or by all means refer to this as (gasp) "art"
yikes.
it's way too personal and embodies all of my reason for living, when im in the
middle of the project to belittle it by calling it "art" is so off .not to be mellow-dramatic. hee hee but:
its like time spent playing with the almighty, the mystery, the begining of all time
and my end. im not aware of anything else
~~

since this is like a diary i think ill get to a list of accomplishments soon just
to look at it all however here is what im doing now:

ashby bart station ghost bus (mardi gras float)

ashby bart station ghost bus (mardi gras float)
Originally uploaded by followthatparade

im looking forward to going out and work on the bus again.
admittedly, the past few months had been a needed vacation from that project,
however it haunts me.
so many times am i asked about it and
then things like this mardigras float show up and i am caught
off gaurd by how much a reference it is for odd ball d.i.y projects
the bus is.
i only got to see this event from a quick distance while i was
driving my work van around town and low and behold a
bus show! i do miss it.

bus doc

this is a trailer of ryans bus documentary

http://www.scion.com/easy10/films_xlr8r.html

parenthood

my daughter quinn is going to turn 14 in a month from now. i have been a dad for 14 years.
i haven't thought of myself as a dad much, however since she started showing signs of becoming a self concious teen i feel distance becoming part of it. there have been rare tears from us both in the whole time she has been alive but this keen, distinct process of watching her start to judge herself and find her way through peers
has been heart breaking.
i have re learned how to have genuine fun, feelings, just be myself through her and now im
watching her re evaluate herself in context of her friends. i have heard it described as "finding
her identity" however i think its completely the opposite. she is masking much of herself and
only showing a little piece.
"dad, youre so crazy"
she has taken a step away and now it makes me a little lonely after finaly getting comfortable with the intimacy that comes through nurturing someone. it feels cruel now.
"im tired, im cold"
now im the one who wants to do things, she acts like she has (haaaaas) to do things.
before these past couple of years she was the one wanting to do things that some times i
was too shy to do. like singing in public, playing with the big ball in the store, running and laughing. then you start to get use to it. its a given part of being around a kid. running down
a hill and picking them up and spinning around soon is the natural interaction, and the laughter.
"da aad" -- silence---- "nuthin"
maybe the hardest part is remembering those feelings. you only have a dozen years yourself
then as a parent where its allowed. then youre reminded, oh crap. people judge you too
you may be excluded some how. look at how funny you look in pictures. what stupid clothes
you have. how dumb your life is.
i don't know why but it all goes full reverse in about six years and you start braiding your
beard and wear funny hats and listen to art music. i don't know why but the battle of identity
takes over your whole life and maybe you become a parent and start to witness playtime again.

im quinns age in this picture. i had lived my life
with my dad in the midwest, here i had jus moved out to california to be with my brother sister and mom.
everything that happened in my life up to this point is what shaped the next half of my life.
all my athetics and judgments were made in the
constant attempt to get love from an alcholoic absent man who, when this photo was taken, was the age i am now. i wonder what my dad thought
or did he think about me leaving.
physically there were alot of tears. i remember sobbing on the
airplane everytime. i remember him hugging me when i arrived for visits, however i have
no idea what went through his mind when he ignored me the rest of the time.
i hope quinn feels constant love and approval from me at all times.