LOADED. A song from EXILE, book four of the grievechronicles by Angel Brynner 14AUG2014

you wipe…your nose…the time…it stops.

you strike…a pose….you fear…no clocks.

you will… be fine….you were…before.

but not….this time…you need…it more.

(can’t you see what waits for you-

cant you see what guns for you…

all the demons  you fought through…

the devils with which you chose to screw -)

a load…ed gun…no not…this way

its just for fun…you all….ways say

but you…cant see…you think its play.

your life…your fun….chose to… betray

a load…ed gun…oh what…a waste

pretend…its fun… that you…still taste

your life…will leave…you in…this place…

you’ll wear your prize…across…your face-

(you couldn’t see them wait for you-

they watched you start to stumble through

with every sniff, waited for you…

the demons God made release you-)

[…………….]

I need a fix in this stupid town-

you work for me-better track it down

just turn your tricks until it is found-

I need a fix in this stupid town-

[…………….]

a loaded gun…no words to say

the blood it runs…you had to play

cant hear…me now…you float away

you are the one…you fade…away

the blood…it runs…you fade again

and you…were done…in by…your friend

the blood…it runs.. cant take …no more

what have…you done?…you’re on…the floor

please not…tonight…cant watch…the fight

your  heart…is weak…you can…not speak

the blood…it runs…cant take…no more…

what have…you done…this to…you for

And you see…you leave…you float…away

you were…deceived…you Had….to play.

its in…your blood…you put…it there…

a loaded gun…but you don’t CARE{breaks}

The loaded gun…he leaves…it in

the very one…you called…your friend…

he makes…the sign….to call…it in…

you watch…him hope…this is …your end

he leans…down close…enough …to taste

he licks…the sick…right off …your face…

and then…he spits…he hates…the taste…

almost…as much..as he hates…your face-

[……………….]

As for you{up}

you never thought that I was the one for you

As for me{up}

you lying on the floor finally sets me free

As for this{up}

the needle in your arm that is your true bliss

As for us{down}

The God you made me says you wont survive this-

[…………………]

He laughs his hate across your skin

goes its… too late…to call…it in…

believes…his hate…gave him…the win…

that this…is fate…instead…of sin.

(Now do you see what hunts for you-

the strawberry fields you stumble through…

You best recall what you once knew…

the mission I first called you to -)

please not…tonight…cant stand…this sight

your  heart…is weak…you can…not speak

the blood…it runs…you to…the door

open… and see…what you took…it for

you stand… beside…. your lonely …bed

As one feigned love…wishes you dead.

And now…you know…its not in her head.

The God who sowed…showed you…instead.

you were…deceived…you Had….to play.

now that you see…what can…you say?

it’s coming…back…and so…are you.

decide…right now…what you…will do.

copyright Angel Brynner/AOLAB

“Pre 39”, “almost post-38” or “Angel on the horizon of the 39th…”

in one month and five days I will be turning 39 for the first time ever. Bouts of nakedity are sure to escalate as I meander towards this anniversary of life.

I’m excited. And writing lately. Hit and passed 20,000 words in my fourth book 48hrs ago. Also Hit and passed my 12th bday in Christ. which was cool… a mellow meal at Mopho followed by a tough tai chi class.

All is good.

100 BOOKS inside~ an interim 2nd trilogy goal FINALLY reached. AOLAB 25JULY2014.

So… y’all remember this: https://aolab4globalboho.wordpress.com/2013/06/11/the-100-day-challenge-100-books-devoured-in-100-days-by-angel-brynner/ ????

Well…we officially have proof that I DO indeed live on another planet and it is a glorious one, where The sun is really green but we see it as yellow and  everything is really upside-down but we see it right-side up or some other ocular inversion whachamacalits…

But the truest definer of a different set of space residing within said planetary orb is the fact that Here[ on my planet] 100 days is the equivalent of about 415 days on this here lovely celestial abode we call Earth.

It has its perks… less wrinkles, pert T&A for longer-the gravity is different- everything seems well suited to lankiness around here…even fat on this planet seems to technically still be considered skinny-You get drunker faster here, so its cheaper and not as fun-

But the only aspect of import on this day-July 25th, 2014- is that I have finally completed my 100 bookdevouring research readathon for the love of Jesus how is this taking so long??!” challenge.

315 days after the fact? True…but that’s only on your puny human planet{Avengers*}.

🙂

On my planet what stands out is the reality that if I WAS on Earth most of the time,  it would mean I ingested a book every 4.15 days. Though not what my evil genius, bookish -700 books in a summer-inner child was aiming for, it suits my 38 year old, eating, drinking, traveling, omg I have a life & its based in New Orleans ass  just fine. In all seriousness though… What this means research-wise is that there are 28 books standing already half devoured that need to be finished and 160 books I have not even touched yet.

I do not have as much time to get the next set of research into the mainframe..because the books are being left here for the most part. The brunt of them will remain as a library onsite for the Haus gypsies Hotel California-ing alongside me after I bust out…both because God said you are not moving all these books back with you, and because every Gypsy needs an oasis stocked to the gills with good books somewhere along the road. And too, my inner child is geeked over the idea of donating a library lol.

100 in, at peace, at my leisure has been kind of cool. The greatest gift given in a series of blessings from above. I KNOW many artists these days would kill to be given the time I’ve been given to DO this correctly, and my gratitude for that time & those who have obeyed God and facilitated my living rather bohemian- like during it runs deep. The spirit of New Orleans is good to those with art in their blood and God knows I am grateful for the good looking out.

And the way the influx of information has connected dots I hadn’t even realized would be a boon to the arc of the entire series blows my mind. Between the reading & travel this spring novel number four is 20 chapters deep so far, with her two siblings chomping at the bit. & I’m trying to discern will God be sending me back to the place I just found out I call home internally, back to Mexico or returning me to apples I’d sworn to only see again if certain other sexy motherfuckers were also being sent back to homestead. Kinda cool place to be, at least for me. Artistically speaking.

God is good.

-AB

 

 

 

 

REST[&ROCK ON] IN PEACE, HEATHER CRAWFORD COLEGROVE.

If any of your friends pop up on your heart out of nowhere, let them know you love them. I just found out that one of my best friends since 1st grade- who tracked me down again last year so as to reconnect- passed away this morning.

She literally floated up in my mind yesterday and made me laugh by flashing Tommy Lee from Motley Crue … she’s the only other person on earth who would not be surprised if I turned up married to him one day…because I used to have my dad drive me from the east side of Cleveland to the edge of the west side of Cleveland…to hang out in her room…whose purple walls were covered to the ceiling with pics of Motley Crue and Poison and Duran Duran [Tommy lee, Ricky Rocket & Mr.Taylor, thank you very much!].  She was one of my strongest sanctuaries for eight formative years of my life…the high priestess of the one that to this day means the most musically to me: Rock.

& last year she kicked down all the doors I’d put up against mostly everybody in the 25yrs since the last time we’d seen each other due to dumb shit out in the world, popped me in the back of the head & reminded what real friendship was…and that She could still see who I was as a person and friend, no matter how stupidly or hurtfully others responded to me. God so healed me with her this year, and I thank him for her again and again, and am so grateful I got the chance to be loved by her brainy, wild genius butt for the second time around before she went home to the God it turned out we both believed in when we met back up.

Out of all my friends growing up, her Dad was the only one I’d ever even think of calling Dad, her sisters were the big sisters I never got to have because I was the oldest girl- And she’s already pulled a miracle from above because when I called to tell my Dad she died, it led to him opening up with me in a way he never has before, so high-five, Heather.
I LOVE YOU.
& I speak in present tense because I KNOW in my head and in my heart where you just high-tailed it to, and I cant wait to see what you do with the new digs[mansion] God just gave you the keys to.

heather micki and vicki

30 YEARS DEEP,MAAAAN~ HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, Purple Rain[WORK IN PROGRESS]. AOLAB 13JULY2014.

prince

I grew up in the Cleveland Museum of Art. Literally. First place they put me so as to  not draw on walls had walls chock full of all kinds of stuff I slowly but surely wrapped my entire being around over the years. But it wasn’t until third grade that it became official. And I owe it ALL-WAIT-I owe it all to GOD…but getting all Paul planted, Apollos watered about the whole thing, only one man on this earth gets the prize of turning my little creative ass out and that is due to the image on the front of his liner notes. The[unexaggerated] Lore of Angel[no surname necessary at this point] includes a daddy DJ who let no one else but his arty daughter touch his records, finding that image protecting vinyl, a pair of scissors, the sliced open plastic of the front panel of a trapper keeper and a vaguely remembered confiscation or something.

🙂 I’m gonna be an ARTIST.

[aka buck naked painting allatime~damn near showing maaaah a******! artistically in whatever medium I fackin feel like!]

When he was in NOLA last week for Essence Fest… I almost went. THAT tells you reams of stuff I am not going to say.  I’m not a lemur for much, lone wolfin’ it like a motherfact… But the Prince gang is one that I entered long ago and have Never tried to get out of. it’s deep. I mean… not only is he the only man my guardian angels had to tie me up so as to not let me run away to paisley park as a kid…the brunt of them took on the bone structure of his crew in my mind’s eye. I see other lands and realms through eyes God let his little ass brazenly open when I was a wee one. There is not a man who has known these lands who wasn’t bowing at the altar of Prince. & that’s said globally speaking, across Languages. That’s said using his tracks to communicate with lovers whose languages I didn’t know yet. Madness, pure heady madness, all my wilding out way back when due to seeds planted by him[ & Madonna] lol.

And not only that… out of All these damn musical nuts that have drawn all sorts of shall we say extravagances  and flourishes from me[ all visibly as tattooed by him as I somewhat secretly was, btw and it’s not like its that many!]…when I finally DID meet HIM?Prince is the only one who didn’t lose his flipping words. Prince is the only creative man I have EVER met on this planet who not only is not oddly scared of my Amazonian ass in bewildered way… HE started vocally shutting folks down who were flipping over what I was saying So I could clearly and loudly say it. He already had me from 8…but when he shut down a room full of presidents, other musicians and executives, all “LET HER TALK!” …in a room I was only even in  on a technicality[ read:nyc loophole]…it moved so beyond “ride or die” that it’s like beyond the 7th House mess up in here towards that man.  He’s the only man I’ve ever SEEN stand 100% up for me. Full on. The ONLY one. Artistically or otherwise.

Which could kinda suck, but maybe it’s a Highlander thing lol. Maybe for a chick like me there can only be one lolol. And that ONE dude who is Gonna DO that shit and do it HARD as a motherfuck…being PRINCE ROGERS FN NELSON… is not a bad card to draw. Especially with my mouthy ass. You really don’t need anyone else after that lol. And I doubt I was thunderstruck by meeting ANYBODY else but Jesus ever since then.

Long ago he gave me a concept of an expanded family when my nuclear one was going radioactive through his music, videos… and of course…Movies.

[yes, I said plural. don’t hate lol.] But before getting all happy weepy-

this is all coming forth due to One of those movies in particular…That literally changed MY life…and is the reason everyone born between 85 and 86 needs to kiss that man’s rings like he is the pope… because PURPLE RAIN turned out Everybody on the planet.

THIRTY FLIPPIN YEARS AGO.

wHOA. I mean- like- Wow. Things change…but of all the stuff that fell away… I still am most happiest in much less than mah draws drawing and painting like there are waves of dry ice curling round my toes in a purple room.

These shots are works in progress OF ME STILL UNABASHEDLY dancing in the nakedity I once  pointed to his ass as proof of it being totally okay to be like… when they were trying to force me to put some damn pants on and stop drawing on myself..

Tossing ganglands, yall. Happy Birthday, Purple Rain. Still… I would DIE 4U.

 

 

WORKING THE ROSTER[IN THE ROUND]. AOLAB11JULY2014.

Yeah… so…

Inner-child  & I have been having a hard time conceptualizing salads this year. If we get them  out somewhere there’s this inner conversation of “See? all we’d have to do is Get all that stuff and then we can do that at home.” But seven months into 2014 I think I’ve made two at home & they kinda sucked. I mean Borrrrring.

And since I rarely do boring with my food…they just weren’t happening [food is fuel, my ass! Food is a glorious sensory experience given to us to relish by God! see?! Relish! just don’t be a dick about it lol].

Now…I’m not talking about  labeling the deranged Americana idea of salad with all the mayo and yada yada- as healthy…but  those we got down. I did just post something about a shrimp & quail egg salad that lit my heart on fire…and a potato salad…and I keep eyefucking lobster at the market because I so wanna try to make lobster rolls this summer…even though I’m not all ga-ga over lobster in the first place. It’s probably horrifying for it to register “she’s desiring lobster to…make lobster rolls” instead of some swanky what have you, but a life lived is a lived life.

But after focusing so hard on learning what and how to juice correctly…who knew those juicing eggplant are kind of trying to kill you? [Nightshade, baby~] i sort of blanked out on the whole eating vs drinking vegetables. But months in,as is the norm with any cult[food or otherwise] you come across that are you in or out? gangland item &… inner child put her foot down. All of a sudden, everyone was championing  some mess about “you should chew your juice” …and THAT was it. She just tapped out.

“I’m done-I’m not gonna Stand here..with your~i’m just gonna say it…health-nutty butt[*gasp*]..Chewing Juice… these people are- If we’re CHEWING, we’re chewing food!dang nabbit!! Fiddlesticks!”

ok, it wasn’t that bad. But there was a period of going for the juicer and suddenly finding myself in other things, it collecting dust. Baby was NOT having it. So I got a replacement blender-I’d donated my 1st to the shack in ELH I went to write in for any margarita making madness that should hit it in my wake. Logic:My South Beach Summer cold soups when it’s so hot it doesn’t even matter the Ocean is our front yard. Plus I can put cilantro & spinach in a smoothie and be like bam!*(And anyone who has tried juicing spinach knows the  reason why it rarely showed up in my ether mixes. It’s kind of a dick to juice).

But I’d given up on the whole salad thing. Some things I’m just gonna be like “fuck it, its not that deep” about, and salads sat squarely in  that territory. I may have been born under the sign of the hare but mama didn’t raise no rabbit nibble chick in the first place, especially one to be mewing about “if only I could..sniff*… find a way…to- eat a bowl of…leaves. Only…Then everything’d be ok.”

Nah. I’ve been in this mess for too long. I know that Many flipping smoothies and salads have more calories than a big mac value meal, especially when done super-sized the American way. Whether I believe in the concept of calories as the devil is not even the point in that one[I don’t btw .not exactly]. All my life I’ve watched cholas getting fat off eating nothing but salads and cottage cheese. And I see the “salads” 9.99 a pound you can build at grocery stores everywhere now. Sometimes they may as well go get a medium pizza because it’s gonna do the same thing when they sit down. It’s just a bowl of kool-aid I have no illusions about.

…so… a lot of somewhat whiny and petulant factors working into the aforementioned absence of said item on the menu. Too much crazy space for Boring food, which I don’t do[spiritual health is as important as physical to me], oversized portions[ “But its a salad!” “it’s a Two Pound salad!” “You killed Bambi! You monster!” “& he is delicious! numnumnum~”]… ah, and the piece de resistance…presentation.  I like my food to have a little “alright now~!” Make me Want to eat or get to the bottom of you, you know? Systematic mystery. None of this “hock it all into a bowl” mess. Give me Artistry, give me Interest, Curiosity~ make it an event!

I thought that salads had given up the ghost with all this working against them. And then I saw something that…was like a Morpheus-esque splinter in my brain.. that refused to be ignored.

http://www.thekitchn.com/how-to-pack-the-perfect-salad-in-a-jar-cooking-lessons-from-the-kitchn-192174

It wouldn’t let me go. I was already using diff sized mason jars for the soups and what-not, but this idea- this- this was pure madness! Madness, I tell ya-

I’d be looking up something else & wham, it’d hit me again, different angle. I fought as it complained that in a mason jar it’d be the perfect size, knocking out that portion control complaint- “only so much is gonna fit into a sane-sized mason jar~.”

People were doing madcap beautiful things with this- I mean incendiary mosh-pit variations- it- Kicked the aesthetic whimmering door off its hinges, blaming me for the boredom I’d yoked the concept of salads with. It was really mouthy. “Look at it! Loooookatit! Food porn, everywhere, beckoning…”this is our time~! you can DO this~like Lovin, you can make salads…fun~!”

I fought until I couldn’t fight anymore, then I succumbed.

“Ok-eventually I will try this.”

Now…anyone who Knows me…knows that as soon as I throw eventually into some shit….technically it don’t even have to go down this lifetime if I dont feel like it. Loophole extraordinaire! My “aight-!!But back up off me,tho” move.

(let’s me know that this salad thing was deep-seated that it even Got to that lol, but still.)

Che Salad stood down, I caught my breath, grinned a bit cheekily…

And after my first interval run in the NOLA summer sun[trust me, that’s Huge- ok, it was Small…bursts…that became a game of run to the next set of shade, but it worked] I came home via grocery store, winning against all Kinds of temptation, saw I had a jar of carrot soup left and the empty jar from the pea soup just grinning bashfully at me.

I said “why not?”

And IT… turned out divine.

I did it absently in direct opposition to the kitchn.com post. Piled in cilantro, then spinach, then black olives, romano cheese, caviar, a  bit of the chorizo potato chilled salad, garlic cloves,buckwheat honey, balsamic, sesame seeds and oil. then put one of the Spanish tortilla tortes at the top of the pile, sealed it, shook it and done.

Maybe my favorite part was the whole “I’m not even putting this into a bowl, I’m going to eat this salad straight from the jar!” “technically Not badass, but still” thing.

welp. That’s the fastest eventually that’s ever gone down with me. And that lil shaker in the back? That was dessert.

I’ve come onto the cold-brew coffee train,full-force. At home, anyway. Better than sun tea. Let it sit out 10-24 hrs, until long after the espresso sinks, drain the grounds from it, pour it into its temporary home, add honey while it’s still hot/room temp[which is 95 degrees in lovely New Orleans today 🙂 ], then stick it in the fridge. mellow yet potent cold coffee you don’t have to water down w/ice cubes…unless you want to.

🙂