Rocky Top Farms, a banana portrait

3 03 2015
Rocky Top Farms

Rocky Top Farms

I grew up a simple farmling, riding bananas, rustling splits.

Oil painting in progress – A Time to Heal

2 03 2015
Twin preachers performing a two-headed exorcism on a demon child at a wedding reception. Typical Monday.

Twin preachers performing a two-headed exorcism on a demon child at a wedding reception. Typical Monday.


A Time to Heal detail

A Time to Heal detail

Raisin Bread, y’all

27 02 2015
Made in Murica

Made in Murica, recipe soon

Glassed-in DNA Makes the Ultimate Time Capsule

16 02 2015

Mind-blowing utility DNA has for storing data. 

Just 1 gram of DNA is theoretically capable of holding 455 exabytes – enough for all the data held by Google, Facebook and every other major tech company, with room to spare. It’s also incredibly durable: DNA has been extracted and sequenced from 700,000-year-old horse bones. But conditions have to be right for it to last.


DNA replication

I Like My Musak in a Language I Don’t Understand

5 02 2015

No introduction necessary. This is brimming badfuls of bad functional music.

Many rap songs in the desert

Persian surf garage

Some more old Persian rock

Stabbed in the mouth 37 times

Second Floor: Women’s Garments, Sundries, Lasers

Roof Missing, Still Climbing

I’m in a Different World Now

and it feels weird. I can fly. Good god look at those glasses. 

May I Try This Cream? It says ‘tester’. May I Try This Cream? Miss?

Yes, I Can Wait




International Body Shop Dump, K.O.

2 02 2015

Some rope dancing, still better than the Super Bowl.


Hold my calls, I have this happening. 



Some renegade band of warriors limber up, limber up oh my god what are they doing?


And then clean out yo Nasya and stuff like that.


K.O. It’s you, baby.


Oiled, shirtless, wandering, grappling primates. The grandstands are packed. A fine display, indeed.


Become a guru:

“Remember the infinite is our freedom manifested through our consciousness.”

- Max Sick


Many essence 


Super powers


More Super Powers


The Motherfucking 1987 Crysta Light Championship


Clean the set, prepare for lesson, 


Begin again.

Or blend again.

Or Brasil again

Oh god don’t do that

Janathon Day 31: O God That’s Over

1 02 2015

What a horrible performance. I started off by not running much, put in a decent week, then quit in a raging meltdown, Went sledding, then got on some crazy pills that made me see bugs, have spates of an hour of two of complete memory loss, gross confusion,  incoherent and impulsive behavior.

“I need a passport.” For what reason? To visit the fishing camp in Novia Scotia I inherited? Not likely, but one would like to at least be able to, to have that choice, to open up the possibility of more trout. And to my eldest nephew, I bequeath my trout camp on Siglar Point. “I need to drive to a hat shop an hour away. I need to throw out my karate clothes. I need to throw out all seaweed paper.” Okay, good eye, nice job. “I need to research the epigrammic history of celery, especially homonyms of Taiwan and Chechnia.” Oh god, why?

I need to run.

I blundered into February above ground. Nothing better than another Sunday above clay. Well, comparatively speaking, if you were enjoying a nice afternoon without you bleeding from your eyes, for example, you could still have a reasonable range of emotional responses. If you never bled from your eyes, then the emotional impact would be fairly boring. I have not lost horns, therefore, I have horns. If you always bled from your eyes your entire life and then one day you didn’t bleed from your eyes, the occasion would be profoundly satisfying. I have lost bleeding from the eyes, therefore I have no bleeding from the eyes. So, I ended the month having never bled from my eyes, but thankful, nonetheless, that I did not start this month. I am thankful for my healthy eyes, and for the fish camp I’ll probably never visit. “I can catch fish [gesturing vaguely to area by river] over there.” Shakes head. “Something old, something new, something Scottish, something finned.”



So, I ended the month having never bled from my eyes, but thankful, nonetheless, that I did not start eyeball bleeding this month. I am thankful for my healthy eyes, and for the fish camp I’ll probably never visit. “I can catch fish [gesturing vaguely to area by river] over there.” Shakes head.

“Something old, something new, something Scottish, something finned.” I dreamed I didn’t make any sense when I originally wrote this. My instincts are red hot.

I dreamed I didn’t make any sense when I originally wrote this. My instincts are red hot. But at least I slept all night, dreaming I’d lost my mind, dreaming that I’d assuredly lost it and here are some examples to support my theory. 


Because the only time I can run is evenings late, and there’s a lot of ice everywhere and I hate slipping around on black ice on late night headlamp runs. In a run-down blighted rust belt ghost town, I sort of lost interest in running these same hillbilly roads. And the medicine made me hallucinate and stay up all night and see bugs and I’d forget huge chunks of time in the day. All of a sudden, driving down a road, I’d forget where I was entirely, have no idea where I was heading. When I spoke I said wrong things, my dexterity dried up and blew away. I broke things, knocked things over, and I could see my hands doing things wrong but I wasn’t entirely connected to the action. I’d have these crazy sweats. I burned toast… It was at that moment, looking at the toaster, that I decided to toss the medication. I was tolerant of the stuff for a while, but when it robbed me of the ability to make toast, I decided to avoid bloodshed and flush the pills. Would you choose insanity or burnt toast?

I lost eight pounds, I gained eight pounds. When the moon is full, so are my pants.

Come June, I’ll be living in a different town, remaking my life, pursuing la vida sequel, interested in my cage again.

frozen banner

An expanse of thorn-choked winter fantasy fun balls.

And so, another Janathon draws to a close. I did not beat my previous personal best of 356 miles. No panoply of seasoned running anecdotes to share, this time around, have I to share with my friends and running relations.


(IRAS 18059-3211)

I Love It When I Write For an Hour and the Page Disappears Right As I Go To Publish

30 01 2015

Whatever happened to auto-save? What the fig just happened. I waxed eloquently about chi, Rossby waves, gaucho dancing, going pretty meta and emerging with a couple of jokes, and suddenly the page just goes poof! What, did I push wrong buttons, a  wrong one? I was just tagging the article to publish, and the page disappeared! Shit, I even corrected passive voice errors. God damn the Dark Side of the Force.

WTF WordPress?


EDIT: Relevant

Janathon Day 26 and 27: Rage and sadness

27 01 2015

I’m getting only about three hours of sleep at night. I saw a physician and he gave me some ‘scripts. I took them to the pharmacy and left them there. I can’t afford the medication. Not only that, some of it is considered “too toxic for realistic use” and blood work has been ordered for the 28th. Went home and ate chocolate after work. I spent half the day trying to get medicine, the second half working in a snow storm.

Today I spent a half hour trying to get a newly hired supervisor for the state-exchange healthcare system implemented to counter the AHCA to explain the necessity of their office based upon these admissions:

  • Information I sent was not received, therefore I am required to send more information
  • Their fax machine is almost always unavailable, because there is ONE fax machine available to applicants for state-sponsored healthcare. To date, over 100,000 people in PA applied for healthcare in the first week alone. Now in the third week of January, that number has tripled. So, that means that the office is currently able to serve 0.0012% of the applicants per day providing they all have to use the fax machine. At that rate, it will be May 21, 2016 before the 300,000 applicants who’ve applied are served. Meanwhile, the deadline for all applications arrive seven fucking days after receiving the letter of determination (the letter stating the initial application didn’t capture the info necessary to process the application and whose fucking fault is that?) Making it statistically impossible to send the info by the single fax machine available.
  • The specific information in the determination letter did not specify what information was…never received and would be unable to be received anyways…and the info needed kept changing the more I kept the super on the phone Jesus Fucking Christ.
  • Citing my foreclosed home, loss of job, it was determined that the assets I’d liquidated because the bank would take everything I had left, it was considered income, since the foreclosure process takes MONTHS if not YEARS. Nobody knows!
  • Fuck ousted Governor Tom Corbett that rat fink piece of shit, protector of pedophiles, fracking ghouls, school killer, baby eater, die, motherfucker. (actually this one was unspoken)
  • The super admitted I would be roundly rejected anyways, but I needed to receive a rejection in order to reapply. And this is where I lost my mind. It’s in that statement somewhere. I told her that was patently insane. And on top of that, I was expected to drag my children around to the only place in town I can fax something, then to the post office when that failed, (after the trip to the bank – they require statement requests in person good lord) in a snow storm in order to support this ludicrous insanity.
  • If i did not complete this process successfully within 48 hours I would be fined, in what way would this ridiculous bureaucracy be able to defend itself reasonably when I refused to pay fine. One fax machine, lost info, no clear method of determination. What a joke.

So, I’m going to spend my day trying to get blood work, then go drive around in a fucking snowstorm all evening. It’s important to realize that this stress contributes to my health problems. Not that it fucking matters.

Cost of one medication with insurance $29. Cost without, $995. Cost of other medication with insurance $56, without insurance $345. Then there’s a third medication. I don’t even know what that one costs. However, I am aware that it causes impotence, so there’s that. I wish I had some magic mushrooms, maybe some money. Maybe some magic money.

So, I’ve been doing some lateral toddler lifting, curls and kettle throws. Ice dancing in the dark while holding heavy weights.

January 24th: Drifting In and Out of Bad Taste

25 01 2015

I went sledding with the old born child today, ran around the block once. i did a mile. The sledding was exhausting. Tramping up a hill over and over in the snow. I also ran around the block once, and I hung out with Darth Vader and had vegan sandwiches at his crib. I had the feeling he wanted to leave, but I didn’t. have anywhere to go. And I love him. I can’t find my keys.

Here’s a completely professional and acutely rendered, sophisticated video mash-up depicting my day’s activities. It featured both MBV and Tame Impala’s music. I slapped this together before work. I know, pure genius. I mean, I know pure genius. I just wish I was pure genius. Shit, I wish I was mostly impure genius…which, by definition…is still just plain old impure genius. You can’t have something partially impure. It’s an absolute: either it’s pure or impure.

Hopefully I get more than three hours sleep tonight.

Tim Jankowiak

mostly oil paintings, but some drawings and photographs too


the chronicles of a wondering artist


Rowing, ranting and running.

Run, Hemingway, Run!

Marc Hemingway: Going from couch potato to runner bean...!






The Island in the Wine Dark Sea

the creative bazaar.

Selected Physical & Digital Unconventional Advertising.

VVV Public Relations: BPR + Guerrilla Marketing

Righteous Negative Publicity and Black PR: Exposing the terrible truths to take down corrupt corporations.

Alternative Thinking 37

The collective unconscious '37' aspects of the path to enlightenment

World People's Conference on Climate Change and the Rights of Mother Earth

Building the People's World Movement for Mother Earth

Science Springs

Dedicated to raising the visibility of Basic and Applied Science at great research institutions world wide. Good science is a collaborative process.

Omar Ortiz

pintor hiperrealista

Jnana's Red Barn

A Space for Work and Reflection

∙ tenderheartmusings ∙

we were born naked onto the page of existence; with nothing but the pen of our soul to write ourselves into eternal ecstasy ~ DreamingBear Baraka Kanaan


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