When the multitudes unify it’s time to multiply, ask me, I know nothing, I bear the signs, my body is the symbol. All is one, one is none and none is everyone. Come to me I’ll tell you what it’s all about, I know nothing. I was laying in the living room couch one rainy afternoon; John Cale’s Paris 1919 was spinning on the record player and in my lap I had one 74/80” Flathead Manual along with The Bible and The Bhagavad Gita.
I was sipping coffee and studying the pages in admiration when suddenly my blood froze in sheer panic. So unbelievably overwhelmed by the eternal information in front of me, the work of some of mankind’s greatest minds came alive in my hands. My head started spinning really fast as I felt my spine burning up, I had an attack of some kind, the enormity confronted me so tremendously hard that I instantly panicked as the letters from the worn out pages started to dance out across the room in endless letter combinations, delicate sparkling orbits of words pulsating out in front of me.
Vibrating in anxiety I tried to run my melting hands across the shooting streams of letters and indulge myself in the endless information, but the letters was avoiding my body and all I felt was a tiny airstream of emptiness burning through my skin, it filled up my senses like the night fills up the forest. I ran outside feeling like a giant burning tree with blazing branches reaching up towards the countless stars in the endless black night, lightening up the sky like the revolutionary war. My mind was juggling cosmic gravy in excess, the enormity of nothing, the enormity of the gap between everything and nothing, and the eternal nothing inside everything.
Nothing, everything, nothing, everything, nothing everything; Manifest Destiny. I became isolated within my own head, a cork on the ocean, terrified of how much there really is to know, and even though this was just three open books in my own living room I’ve never been so frightened in my entire life and I had no idea what to do or who to call, maybe Bruce Palmer III or Dr. Peter Wenkman?
But nevermind me and my issues, here's a great photo of Gordon from quite some time ago. Ronna & Gugge are the best at what they do so nevermind this blog, go check them out
here.
When the multitudes unify it’s time to multiply, ask me, I know nothing, I bear the signs, my body is the symbol. All is one, one is none and none is everyone. Come to me I’ll tell you what it’s all about, I know nothing. I was laying in the living room couch one rainy afternoon; John Cale’s Paris 1919 was spinning on the record player and in my lap I had one 74/80” Flathead Manual along with The Bible and The Bhagavad Gita.
I was sipping coffee and studying the pages in admiration when suddenly my blood froze in sheer panic. So unbelievably overwhelmed by the eternal information in front of me, the work of some of mankind’s greatest minds came alive in my hands. My head started spinning really fast as I felt my spine burning up, I had an attack of some kind, the enormity confronted me so tremendously hard that I instantly panicked as the letters from the worn out pages started to dance out across the room in endless letter combinations, delicate sparkling orbits of words pulsating out in front of me.
Vibrating in anxiety I tried to run my melting hands across the shooting streams of letters and indulge myself in the endless information, but the letters was avoiding my body and all I felt was a tiny airstream of emptiness burning through my skin, it filled up my senses like the night fills up the forest. I ran outside feeling like a giant burning tree with blazing branches reaching up towards the countless stars in the endless black night, lightening up the sky like the revolutionary war. My mind was juggling cosmic gravy in excess, the enormity of nothing, the enormity of the gap between everything and nothing, and the eternal nothing inside everything.
Nothing, everything, nothing, everything, nothing everything; Manifest Destiny. I became isolated within my own head, a cork on the ocean, terrified of how much there really is to know, and even though this was just three open books in my own living room I’ve never been so frightened in my entire life and I had no idea what to do or who to call, maybe Bruce Palmer III or Dr. Peter Wenkman?
But nevermind me and my issues, here's a great photo of Gordon from quite some time ago. Ronna & Gugge are the best at what they do so nevermind this blog, go check them out here. 
beautiful repair work on that knucklehead frame...i have one needing some of the same love done to it
SvaraRaderaThat is a WILD frame, what's the UP and OUT?
SvaraRaderaIts hard to ignore the negative. Lets hang out again soon. Come over, buddy
SvaraRaderaSprocket:
SvaraRaderaIt's UP all night and OUT to lunch.
Adam:
For sure bud, I'll be over in a bit.