Sound Pm/Phto

Sound

War is making the sound
that a car accident makes.
the kind of sound that
you feel in your hands,
and it’s nothing like the movies.

This kind of sound is a sham,
because they never show us
the real version on the screen.
I’d be ready if they did.

No, I’m a liar.
If they did that, I would
walk out… which is
something I cannot do right now.

But I have to… I am walking out,
getting out, going down the hall
to the other movie that’s playing
for the same eight dollars

I’m sitting down,
and I’m watching this film.

I’m keeping my eyes
steady while the world shakes.

I am watching the war we aren’t fighting.
the war over being able to
buy a person in Haiti for fifty dollars.
fifty dollars, U.S.

-Larson

Laura Jones, Suck on This

Hi all-

Just finished my first comic book. So far, the pages are up on my google pics account as images. Each page is one image, so you can flip through the album like a book. here's the link to the album.

http://picasaweb.google.com/secondzflat/LauraJonesSuckOnThis

As I find a way to make a little flipbook for you to enjoy, I will put it up here for your enjoyment. In the meantime, enjoy reading the comic in 'raw' form. More to come!

-Larson Broome

Stressed but I'll be back soon.

Hey all-

Sometimes I get really stressed out. We all do. In those times, I read posts like this from Gaping Void for perspective. Good advice is often free.

-Anthony

Little moments of Graffiti

Yo-

Above from Seattle, WA. Sometimes I feel like I could walk by such a snippet anywhere, though. Part of me wants to. The side of a brick building, delapidated fencing, small moments of graffiti both obvious and inert. There's something about the illusion we have when we are walking down the street. The version of the world in our head and the version right in front of us. There's something to the level of importance we give to one or the other; how we pick and choose what to accent and what to ignore.

Sometimes my friends and I say that America is a third world country. We have a lot of stuff, a lot of money, and a lot of self-esteem. Really, though, what we have is the version in our head. The version that delicately leaves out the ones left behind. The buildings falling apart. The little corners of not-so-clean. We talk a big game, but there are still so many just not cared for, or cared about.

It's so easy to walk down the street and never let these things come into your head. It's also just as easy to focus only on them and get lost in the self-pity and dispair. What's hard is the balance between, where you know how to look for what should be there, and also see the little moments of graffiti. Look at the little dents in the perfection, that show us there's still a need for hope.

-A

Pm/Phto: Road

The other day I saw a woman
walking down the street in one-inch heels
meandering into the road
like it wasn't anywhere special
like there was no word 'road'
and it wasn't a place of its own

I was angry at the time,
she was in a place that the car I was in
belonged to. I was in a car that I
belonged to.

Now I wonder if she's one person
pulled away just enough
to lope over the asphalt yard
and not even think
about the car she belongs to.

Wine Label

you show your face to me like a wine label
and i'm trying to figure our what part of france you are from
somewhere warm where the wine is crisp,
or somewhere else and all dried up?

did you notice that i don't know a thing about wine,
besides that it is grapey?
and it involves something called a bouquet
(but not the kind you give someone)

And so I keep you on top of the refrigerator
or in the downstairs cupboard
and you'll stay there
because I never know how long you should keep
or if this birthday, or anniversary, or graduation,
or thursday, or boat christening, or memorial day
is toast-worthy enough to spoil you for a moment
and a whiff of your bouquet.

Strawberry

it's a quiet and beautiful life when you know how to
make yourself exactly half a pot of coffee.

i leave things around accidentally
like tissues with my blood on it,
a cat scratch or dry day for my nose
i forget that there's things here that aren't from the inside of me.

does it bother you to know that i can be so forgetful
of the kind of hygiene that keeps everyone separate
and not part of each other?

I eat strawberries with the coffee and I'm trying to remember
not to make that sucking sound
when I bite them off the green part on top.

It's quiet at this part of the afternoon.
There's light in the window and I can see the dust floating in it
it is floating up and down like it's getting heavy and it's
getting light all at once only to stay in place all told.

Let me make you some coffee
and you can hold this bag while I tidy up this mess.

Who is Larson Broome?

Hi all-

Looks like I'm starting back into this thing again. I've just gotten done with a huge event, presenting a conference paper. This is crazy stuff, this Giving Talks, this Having Work. Being someone who actually asks questions like "What do you consider to be knowledge?"

Here's a link to the paper, that you can read:
http://www.dodccrp.org/events/13th_iccrts_2008/papers/037.doc

Now that the presentation is behind me, I'm feeling a bit better... Like it's time to stop being in Crisis Mode, that the hurdle is past. That it's a whole story I can tell myself now. That it's OK now to come up for air.

Life has been happening so much over the past few months, and I've been neglecting these artifacts I can leave behind. In the wake, in the moment. So I'm wiping the dust off.

So Larson Broome is back, and we are still asking who he is. In Second Life, Larson Broome has a redisigned art gallery / AI lab that you should visit. In First Life, Larson Broome is still awash in his own concept. Still a blur we aren't pinning down yet. Situated, embodied, and nowhere. So stay tuned, there is more to ask of Larson Broome; more explaining himself that needs to be done.

In the mean time, I have several new poems that I've written in the months since we left off. I'll be sharing those and writing some more. So, Rock On.

Best,
A

On New Notebook, New Second Life.

Hi all-

I got a new morning pages notebook. It has heavier paper, so that I can use a felt-tipped pen without it bleeding through. Intead, it bleeds out, just about a half a milimeter in every direction. I imagine it makes a hissing sound as it falls outward, like it would ina movie. Anyway, it's those little things that keep me comming back to the page. I'm just a simple creature after all.

In other news, I am working on an art gallery / AI lab in Second Life also called 'Who is Larson Broome?' I will let you know when it gets rolling... there are only two photos up on the wall right now. I'm in the Excellens region... if you are a Second Lifer, come find me.

-A

On Arting it up More, Getting off the Ground.

Hi all-

Things are looking up. I wrote my morning pages (that's three pages of freehand writing) for the first time in a long while. I mostly went on about how guilty I should feel for meing away from the page for so long. But I realized that is just ego. Julia Cameron talks about "the wall" as a block we put up for ourselves about 2/3 of the way through a project. The part where we are crippled because we start caring about the product rather than the process. I think much of my artistic endeavors have hit their own "walls". This doesn't mean I have to backtrack to a more artisitic, idealised past. Rather, I have to check myself, my perfectionism, and my ego and get back into the thick of things.

If you are looking for inspiration, sometimes the best thing to do is stop worrying about it. Just get out there, put yourself on the line, and something will come to you. Get into survival mode.

I can't promise that I will become magically more artistic, or even that I can keep doing morning pages everyday, but I will be putting myself out on the line for it. Accepting that I've fallen off of it, and get back on. When you fall off the horse, you have to get back on. Or more pointedly, when you fall off the horse, you have to admit you are on the ground, dust yourself off, and then get back on the horse.

Here's to looking up from the ground.

-A