Posted on June 29, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

He parked just to the let of me as I was statuing on the wharf today, only a song or two before I packed up.

I could see his reflection in the window across the sidewalk – him getting out of his car, putting some chang in the meter – then as he walked by, throwing some change in my box. As I moved and began to tip my hat to him, I looked – and saw on top of the bills a couple pennies. I looked at him and shook my head in discust, but he didn’t see it…

Then, as I was packing up a few minutes later, he came back, put more change in the meter – then walked by again, throwing another penny in. I wanted to say something – but really couldn’t think of anything besides “You cheap fucking asshole!!!!!!!….) So, I kept quiet – and then though of a plan…

I gathered almost all of the pennies out of my box – roughly 30 of them, then wrote a note. “If all you can afford to give me is your pennies, then you MUST need them more than I do.
You’re welcome.
~ The Street Performer

On a final thought, I also included my beautiful, full color, double sided businesss card, folded that in the note, then placed it on the hood of his SUV – held down on all four corners with small stacks of pennies.

I can’t express to you how incredibly satisfying that was. I hope he emails me.

BigTop

Posted on June 26, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

I think that this just might be the name. At first, when Boe said it – honestly, I really didn’t like it at all. It just felt – well…boring.

At least at first. More names came, great suggestions from people, and all were considered. I took the most viable and made a list, and someshat reluctantly added Big Top too it –

Sideshow is a hit and I love it for its sharp edge – the same with Cirkus – but those don’t portray what I want this to be, become. It will encompass everything involved, and the umbrella of BigTop offers that. Everything is involved, come on in!
Gods, that name took some growing into though.

When Boe first mentioned it I envisioned the mag being on the top shelf, unreachable – right next to ‘Juggs’ or something like that. I’m still a bit concerned about placement when we go to print…

Speaking of which, I have decided due to very good suggestions and the horrible reality of how much it would cost to produce even the smallest number of ‘hard copy’ rags, that beginning this endeavor online is the way to go. No paper until it supports itself – but that will hopefully come in around a year or less. Much less. I want to feel it.

I can’t expess how much I adore trying to create something that is so far out of what I know how to do, and doing it. I will not be deterred, and by the end of September there will be a beautiful website for you all to go to, with everything that can fit under the Big Top – all of what I said before, plus – and this is brilliant – Boe said to offer tips and tricks for rigging, creating sets – etc.

Hells yeah.

Okay – it is far past time to shut my eyes, rest – and wake to another beautiful day. I am tired…

It's time.

Posted on June 25, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

A number of months ago I was looking through a bookstore, in the magazine section. Not finding what I wanted, I searched online.
Nothing, except a horribly outdated production that certainly didn’t fill my wants or needs.

I wanted something – some words, pictures, inspiration. Sure, I found it, on a hundred different sites with tons of searching – but not all in one place. I feel that it is time for that to change.

This has been brewing in my mind for months – and I feel that now is the time to act. I’ve decided to create a Carnival/circus/subculture based magazine, focusing on:

Cirkus
Dance (related)
Burlesque
Sideshow Freaks
Street Performance
Cabaret
Related Bands/Music
Fire Performance
with a chewy Green center, hopefully inspiring others to do what LiB has accomplished, and taking it further. Far further. Teaching by example, and making it incredibly available – and enticing.

The general outline is…
Interviews, with people all around the world – what drives them, what do they want to achieve? What are they doing to accopmplish this? If they ended up in jail with Paris Hilton, what would they do? Shit like that. Fun stuff on an exposing note. I – perhaps we all – know so many extroardinary people that we regularly perform with or see – but do we really know them? Do they know us? Not really. We’re part of the same thing, – but hardly know each other. TIme to give the artists – the people we see, smile at and hug so frequently as we rush by them into the green room, a human aspect – know their dreams, what drives them, why they are who they are. Peel them raw, with their consent. Mike & Shannon Gaines of Vau de Vire Society, Shrine, Dream, Boe, Vegas, Pyromancer (David), Pixie, etc.etc. – every person I can find… the list is endless. Each issue (I’m thinking bi-monthly or monthly) will have one, maybe two or three in-depth interviews.

It will have a section that has the scheduled performances of all of our worldwide friends, happenings and events, an editorial page, a section where people can tell their personal stories of how they got involved – how they manifested their dreams and made them come true. \nAn opinion page, just because we all have one – and some are interesting. \n\u003cbr\>\nPersonal stories – things that have happened to you while\nperforming, preferably somewhat humorous, preferably something that you\nhave learned from.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nThe Honored – A section that gets to the nitty-gritty of the ideas\nbehind the creators of such events as Lightning in a Bottle, which\nstrives to be as green as possible – and does a wonderful job. A\nlearning experience. We need to learn.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nInspiration – stories of/from people who have chased their dreams, why, and what they have gone through to achive them. \n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nA green, spirituality based focus, along the lines of energy,\nquantum physics, manifesting – without being too nauseatingly hippy.\nIt's all\nenergy, yo. I want this as an underlying theme – not "in your face",\nbut more of a suggestive thing. Letting people know what can be done,\nleting them know it's possible.\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nFocusing on the sub-culture – of us, of working to recreate this\nplanet with love, beauty, and exquisite art and performance. Making\navailable to the masses something that could have a serious impact if I\nam able to pull it off the way I envision it.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nThe main goal of this is not only bringing us all together in a\ncomprehensible forum, but more importantly (for me, at least) offering\na very substantial cloud for people to hop on and ride to their dreams\n- realize that they ARE possible, and because of that – we can change\nthe world. We Will, and I, for one, will die trying in the only ways I\nknow how. Beauty. Love. Making dreams real – and, quite literally,\nfucking with peoples' reality – letting them know that there is so much\nmore out there, and reminding them to see through the eyes of a child. \u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nIt is a wonderous world that we live in – but so few people see it.\nWe're the fortunate ones, and we need to let everyone know who we are,\nwhat we are doing – and what they can do do join us. Really, it's\nsimple – just be concious. We can make this work. “,1]
);

//–>
An opinion page, just because we all have one – and some are interesting.
Personal stories – things that have happened to you while performing, preferably somewhat humorous, preferably something that you have learned from.

The Honored – A section that gets to the nitty-gritty of the ideas behind the creators of such events as Lightning in a Bottle, which strives to be as green as possible – and does a wonderful job. A learning experience. We need to learn.

Inspiration – stories of/from people who have chased their dreams, why, and what they have gone through to achive them.

A green, spirituality based focus, along the lines of energy, quantum physics, manifesting – without being too nauseatingly hippy. It’s all energy, yo. I want this as an underlying theme – not “in your face”, but more of a suggestive thing. Letting people know what can be done, leting them know it’s possible.

Focusing on the sub-culture – of us, of working to recreate this planet with love, beauty, and exquisite art and performance. Making available to the masses something that could have a serious impact if I am able to pull it off the way I envision it.

The main goal of this is not only bringing us all together in a comprehensible forum, but more importantly (for me, at least) offering a very substantial cloud for people to hop on and ride to their dreams – realize that they ARE possible, and because of that – we can change the world. We Will, and I, for one, will die trying in the only ways I know how. Beauty. Love. Making dreams real – and, quite literally, fucking with peoples’ reality – letting them know that there is so much more out there, and reminding them to see through the eyes of a child.

It is a wonderous world that we live in – but so few people see it. We’re the fortunate ones, and we need to let everyone know who we are, what we are doing – and what they can do do join us. Really, it’s simple – just be concious. We can make this work. \n\n\u003cbr\>\nI want to have the premier issue in print and ready by late\nSeptember, hopefully coinciding with the one year anniversary of\nBohemian Carnival on September 22nd.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nI'm not fucking around. This is what I want to have happen – but I will need help.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nIf you like this idea, let me know, and help if you can. This will be full color glossy, high quality.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nThis is what I need to make this happen, and keep it rolling:\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\n~ Website and web designer, able to frequently update.\n\u003cbr\>\n~ Software – Adobe's Indesign or Pagemaker, or CorelDraw – absolutely necessary.\n\u003cbr\>\n~ CONTRIBUTIONS! Photos, words, interviews, performance centered\nstories, tips on being greener, ways to change the world, reasons to\nfollow your dreams – be a part of the premier issue! \u003cbr\>\n~ Advertising revenue to produce this. SInce the magazine is not\nestablished yet, it will be very cut-rate – probably no more than $50\nfor 1/8 page, perhaps less. Anyone who wants to advertise their troupe\nor wares, let me know. This WILL happen.\n\u003cbr\>\n~ Marketing gurus\n\u003cbr\>\n~ Emotional support. I have no idea what I'm getting into, but it\nneeds to happen and I will make sure it does. There's something to be\nsaid for passion. I've got a feeling that I'm going to be somewhat\nconsumed by this, but I'll love every second of it.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nI'm also searching for a name for the rag.\n\u003cbr\>\nI started with "Cirkus" – but wanted something a bit more elegant\nand more encompassing of all performances, and thought of "Carnivalia"\n- which I love, but unfortunately already is someone elses brain-child.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nWhat I'm looking for in a name:\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nElegant\n\u003cbr\>\nDESCRIPTIVE\n\u003cbr\>\nall-encompasing (Example – Cirkus is a bit too limited – Carnival is the whole show)\n\u003cbr\>\nMemorable\n\u003cbr\>\nenticing\n\u003cbr\>\netc.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nShould it just be called 'Carnival'? Max two words, preferably one.\n\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nThank you all, so much – I really want to make this happen. Boe\n(GOOFERMAN) is rocking it with me, offering support, encouragement -\nand everything else I can suck out of him. In a purely platonic way, of\ncourse.\n”,1]
);

//–>

I want to have the premier issue in print and ready by late September, hopefully coinciding with the one year anniversary of Bohemian Carnival on September 22nd.

I’m not fucking around. This is what I want to have happen – but I will need help.

If you like this idea, let me know, and help if you can. This will be full color glossy, high quality.

This is what I need to make this happen, and keep it rolling:

~ Website and web designer, able to frequently update.
~ Software – Adobe’s Indesign or Pagemaker, or CorelDraw – absolutely necessary.
~ CONTRIBUTIONS! Photos, words, interviews, performance centered stories, tips on being greener, ways to change the world, reasons to follow your dreams – be a part of the premier issue!
~ Advertising revenue to produce this. SInce the magazine is not established yet, it will be very cut-rate – probably no more than $50 for 1/8 page, perhaps less. Anyone who wants to advertise their troupe or wares, let me know. This WILL happen.
~ Marketing gurus
~ Emotional support. I have no idea what I’m getting into, but it needs to happen and I will make sure it does. There’s something to be said for passion. I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to be somewhat consumed by this, but I’ll love every second of it.

I’m also searching for a name for the rag.
I started with “Cirkus” – but wanted something a bit more elegant and more encompassing of all performances, and thought of “Carnivalia” – which I love, but unfortunately already is someone elses brain-child.

What I’m looking for in a name:

Elegant
DESCRIPTIVE
all-encompasing (Example – Cirkus is a bit too limited – Carnival is the whole show)
Memorable
enticing
etc.

Should it just be called ‘Carnival’? Max two words, preferably one.

Thank you all, so much – I really want to make this happen. Boe (GOOFERMAN) is rocking it with me, offering support, encouragement – and everything else I can suck out of him. In a purely platonic way, of course. \n\n\u003cbr\>\n***At this time, all submissions of photos and words are,\nunfortunately, unpaid. I would be a fool to promise anything right now\n- but hell, who knows? The revenue from the advertisers will come in,\nthe magazine will be produced – and after costs to produce it, whatever\nis left over will be spread around – and keep spreading as the rag gets\nbigger.\nThere's no reason why this won't be worldwide.\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\nWish me luck, and – Thank YOU!\u003cbr\>\n\n\u003cbr\>\n~ kSea flux\u003cbr\>\u003cbr\>\u003cdiv\>\u003cspan class\u003d\”gmail_quote\”\>On 6/25/07, \u003cb class\u003d\”gmail_sendername\”\>Mike 'Vau de Vire'\u003c/b\> <\u003ca href\u003d\”mailto:mike@vaudeviresociety.com\” target\u003d\”_blank\” onclick\u003d\”return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)\”\>mike@vaudeviresociety.com\u003c/a\>> wrote:\u003c/span\>\u003cblockquote class\u003d\”gmail_quote\” style\u003d\”border-left:1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204);margin:0pt 0pt 0pt 0.8ex;padding-left:1ex\”\>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u003cdiv bgcolor\u003d\”#ffffff\”\>\n\u003cdiv\>\u003cfont face\u003d\”Arial\” size\u003d\”2\”\>…oh and my Zune (brown IPod-like MP3 player) was, \ni'm sure, mistakenly lifted from the Pharmacy room, directly following the \nshow. Please let me know if it made it's way into your stuff…or if you \nsaw someone disconnect it from the receiver in that room. It was being \nused as the Pharmacy's music source during the Corridor Tours.\u003c/font\>\u003c/div\>\n\u003cdiv\>\u003cfont face\u003d\”Arial\” size\u003d\”2\”\>\u003c/font\> \u003c/div\>\n\u003cdiv\>\u003cfont face\u003d\”Arial\” size\u003d\”2\”\>thanks,\u003c/font\>\u003c/div\>\n\u003cdiv\>\u003cfont face\u003d\”Arial\” size\u003d\”2\”\>mg\u003c/font\>\u003c/div\>\n\u003cblockquote style\u003d\”border-left:2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);padding-right:0px;padding-left:5px;margin-left:5px;margin-right:0px\” dir\u003d\”ltr\”\>\u003cspan\>\n \u003cdiv style\u003d\”font-family:arial;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:10pt;line-height:normal;font-size-adjust:none;font-stretch:normal\”\>—– Original Message —– \u003c/div\>\n \u003cdiv style\u003d\”background:rgb(228, 228, 228) none repeat scroll 0% 50%;font-family:arial;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:10pt;line-height:normal;font-size-adjust:none;font-stretch:normal\”\>\n\u003cb\>From:\u003c/b\> \n \u003ca title\u003d\”mike@VaudeVireSociety.com\” href\u003d\”mailto:mike@VaudeVireSociety.com\” target\u003d\”_blank\” onclick\u003d\”return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)\”\>”,1]
);

//–>

***At this time, all submissions of photos and words are, unfortunately, unpaid. I would be a fool to promise anything right now – but hell, who knows? The revenue from the advertisers will come in, the magazine will be produced – and after costs to produce it, whatever is left over will be spread around – and keep spreading as the rag gets bigger. There’s no reason why this won’t be worldwide.

Wish me luck, and – Thank YOU!

~ kSea flux

It's time.

Posted on June 25, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

This has been brewing in my mind for months – and I feel that now is the time to act. I’ve decided to create a Carnival/circus/subculture based magazine, focusing on:

Inspiration – stories of/from people who have chased their dreams, why, and what they have gone through to achive them.

//–>

I want to have the premier issue in print and ready by late September, hopefully coinciding with the one year anniversary of Bohemian Carnival on September 22nd.

I’m not fucking around. This is what I want to have happen – but I will need help.

If you like this idea, let me know, and help if you can. This will be full color glossy, high quality.

This is what I need to make this happen, and keep it rolling:

What I’m looking for in a name:

Elegant
DESCRIPTIVE
all-encompasing (Example – Cirkus is a bit too limited – Carnival is the whole show)
Memorable
enticing
etc.

Should it just be called ‘Carnival’? Max two words, preferably one.

//–>

Wish me luck, and – Thank YOU!

~ kSea flux

Oracle

Posted on June 24, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

It’s been a while. Feeling a bit lost, frustrated – yet with it I stlll carried a bit of blind arrogance – I forgot the ebb and flow of the Universe, the wax and wane. Sometimes, there needs to be rest.
My van booted, my leg temporarily crippled – everything was screaming at me in the most obvious ways to just sit, be, let what will happen happen.
I didn’t hear. Everything was fight to get back to work, make money, survive and grow. Everything was reach further and fuck the pain…

Then, a good friend – Indira, reminded me of my Runes in a purely accidental way – a photo she was manipulationg the photo of my eye when her brush made a mark – a mark that looked like a rune. The rune was Algiz, and she wrote me about it.

Algiz –
Protection
Sedge or Rushes
The Elk.

Control of the emotions is at issue here. During times of transition, shifts in life course and accelerated self-change, it is important not to collapse yourself into your emotions, the highs as well as the lows. New opportunities and challenges are typical of this rune, and with them may come trespasses and anwanted influences.
Algiz serves a s a mirror for the Spiritual Warrior, the one whose battle is always with the self, The warriors protection is like the curved horns of the elk, or the warning rustle of the sedge grass, for both serve to keep open space around you.
Remain mindful that timely right action and correct conduct are your only true protection. If you find yourself feeling pain, observe the pain, stay with it. Do nottry to pull down the veil and escape from life by denying what is happening. You will progress. Knowing that is your protection.

And the run I drew earlier tonight, asking what issue I should be aware of, focus on, was

Isa
Standstill
Withdrawal
Ice.

The winter of the spiritual life is upon you. You may find yourself in a situation to whose implications you are, in effect, blind. You may feel powerless to do anything except submit, surrender, even sacrifice some long cherished desore. Be patient, for this is the period of gestation that precedes a rebirth.
Positive accomplishment is unlikely now. There is a freeze on useful activity, all your plans are on hold. You may be experiencing an unaccustomed drain on you energy and wonder why. A chill wind is reaching you over the ice flies of old outmoded habits.
Trying to hold on can result in shallowness of feeling, a sense of being out of touch with life. Seek to discover what it is you are holding onto that perpetuates this condition and let it go. Shed, release, cleanse away the old; doing so will bring on the thaw.Usually Isa requires a sacrifice of the personal, the “I”. At such a time, you cannot hope to rely on help or friendly support. And yet there is no reason or anxiety. Submit and be still, for what you are experiencing is not necessarily the result of your actions or habits, but rather arises from conditions anout which you can do nothing. What has bee full must empty, what has increased must decrease. This is the way of Heaven and Earth. To surrender is to display courage and wisdom.
And yet there is another face o standstill. Just as winter is a time for going within, drawing Isa can announce a time of restoration and renewal on the deepest level. In your solitude, exercise caution and do not stubbornly persist in attempting to work your will. Remain mindful that the seed of the new is present in the shell of the old, the seed of unrealized potential, the seed of the good.

Trust your own process, and watch for signs of spring…

Yup.

past lives

Posted on June 22, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

Back and forth, digging deep. Today I went from San Francisco to Colorado, then to Austin, reliving every thing that happened along the way those years ago, all of those lifetimes ago.
I don’t edit much – just read, tcorrecting errors, trying to figure out where to put chapters – at times taking out a paragraph of drunken rambling, but very seldom. There is a rawness that I want to be there – nothing is refined.

I was let go from the Dresden Dolls again, and didn’t cry this time.
Bean passed again, and I didn’t cry this time – only a bit in the words I wrote about her over the years before she left…

I sit on the front stoop at Boe’s house, where he has been kind enough to let me camp out a bit and care for my leg, but I feel as if I should go soon – I don’t want to take advantage of his kindness, and he has been incredibly kind – but this is his home. Mine is the van. Another appointment at the Hospital tomorrow, and we’ll see what they say. The worst, I believe, has passed, and I must move on soon – I’m thinking by the end of the weekend. It’s been really nice being able to make hot meals and get things that need to be refrigerated, It’s been wonderful hanging out with him, but – as always these days, I am nothing but a guest. It’s all I have been for far too long. I want a home.
I need to fix my leg, work, pay off debts and find my own home. The strange excitementof living out of my van has been fun to a degree, but it has gotten old, very quickly. I’m certain that the cause of this infection is partially the result of not being able to shower everyday – not that I ever get incredibly dirty – just unclean.
The other part is stress.

Summer is here, and it’s time to get down to the Wharf and start making money – it’s time to finish this bookthing I’m doing, and find a publisher for it. I have absolutely no idea how to go about doing that -but I’ll figure it out…though if anyone has any suggestions or connections, I would really appreciate them. I believe that this dream is goig to happen, to come through. It’s almost ready – just a couple more weeks. Boe’s place has been wonderful – constant power,light, internet connection – so much work I was able to get done on this thing while simultaneously caring for my leg, and the bried glorious naps brought on by the pain meds and the energy my body looses in focusing on healing. I’m never not tired these days.

That worries me, just a bit – but fuck, the strength of my body constantly suprises me, and I know I’lll be fine.

~ It was nice today. I had the photos that Nightshade printed out for me last night sitting on Boe’s table so the ink could cure, the ones I sold recently. Boe looks at them this afternoon, takes a second, then says “Fuck, is there anything you can’t do?” I think a moment, then reply “Well – I can’t lick my balls?” He laughed – but his words resounded in me. Sure, there are many things I can’t do right now – but nothing that, if I set my mind to, I couldn’t with time and effort.

It took me years and years to believe that – but anything IS possible. Not just for me, either. I only have the advantage of passionate desperation to give as much as I can – but really, it’s so much more than that. What I do is my validation, when people like it, or don’t. If it evokes any kind of emotion, that is my validation. That proves to me that I am alive. I question that sometimes, for many reasons.

I have been called an apparition, an illusion. Perhaps I am – but perhaps I am a being that just might help you realize that you are too, and everything I go through, everything I do, just might help someone remember themselves. That is the sole reason that I am puttting what I wrote in book form.

I wrote so much better then – there was always something in the future, there was always a sanctuary and always an escape. Somehow, even in the abyss of not knowing where the next day would lead, there was an excitement combined with a strange qround because of it…
Yeah. I think I know now. Even in that time in Colorado, where everything that I had become went away – The Dresden Dolls, my beautiful Brigade went away, when I had nowhere to go but everywhere except backwards to San Francisco with my tail between my legs, I still had Bean. I still had My Bean, and I learned so much in watching her. In my sorrow she sniffed, pissed, came to me and let me pet her and seeemed as if she was listening while I put words to my tears. She was in heaven, never stopped smiling. I cried, she watched the squirrels up in the tree, waiting for them to come down so that they could play.
Watching her, I learned a lot from her quickly.

See the beauty of the smallest things. Pay attention. Eat well, and keep smiling. Know the true value of your friends. Nothing is bad, just a bit challenging at times. Sometimes people may cross the street to avoid you, but the next person will probably give you the words you want and scratch your butt. Trust your instincts. Drink lots of water. Never be afraid to show someone how much you love them.
Play. Always play and always smile when you want to – and smile as often as possible. Don’t be afraid to explore. Be patient – the ones that count will always come back. Let someone know if you have a scratch that you can’t reach, and hopefully they will notice and scratch it for you. Check in with the people you love – they may be pissed at being woken up, but just after that they will laugh and give you one of the best hugs you have ever had.
Words mean nothing, but listen to actions, listen to your feelings. Not everyone is someone you want to have in your life. Protect your friends,

and watch out for trains. They’re beautiful, but…
(I don’t want to tell you how many times after she left I seriously considered following her, popping out of the bushes – I had the perfect place. I have never said this before, to anyone…)

Yeah. She was my ground. My peace.

This is a fragile life. I do with it what I can, always trying to grow. Got a great gig coming up, a private party breathing fire, good money. Occasionally things like this pop up, but not frequently enough. It’s my writings that I hope will break me past the barrier, the book that I am creating. I need to figure out how this completely unknown writer might get this thing published – and perhaps help some people, perhaps get my life back in motion.
Anyone know how to do this? The publishig thing?

The editing is close to done – about a week away, power permitting, and I would be happy to send it as an attachment to some people. If you would be willing to read it, give me constructive criticism – please let me know.

Time to stop writing. Nothig good will come if I continue…

Posted on June 21, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

This morning, after some work, after my third-day-in-a-row appointment at the hospital to make absolutely certain that my leg doesn’t look like it might want to jump the train…

after all of those things, I need to go to the Sea.

In the beautiful insanity of life, I’ve noticed something missing. She can give it back. She’s the only one.

I need to go for a walk with her, breathe her, touch her.

Listen to what she says in her thunder and whispers, and remember me, and

Stay there for a while.

Posted on June 20, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

Saturday Morning, after Fire Bloom benefit…)

There are some times where there is so much to say, but all I can think about is sleep. This is one.

I smoke the nights last cigarette outside of Bobzillas’ home, one of the few places I feel comfortable parking right now, yet no interweb connection.

Exhausted, needing to release the uncommon feeling of stress that has been consuming me for the past few days, I desperately want to end this writing. 4:17 am. I need to sleep. How did it get so late? How does it ever? Ohh – this glorious life.

Often hated briefly, consistently adored. I chose dreams over anything else, dreams that fly on fragile wings and uncertain winds.

I need to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I used to be that person. I still am – but I had to find it again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday night.

Words. Life. Questions and Beauty.

She asks the questions, makes me think. Think past where I usually go, because I am afraid to when I am alone. That’s a dangerous place.

“Why? What can we or anyone do to help the child who was raped? What is the point of anything, everything?”

I pause, searching for the answer.

“All I know is this, but I know it intimately. As a young boy, I fucking rocked – there was nothing I couldn’t do, and I truly believed that – all I needed was the chance to show you, everyone. A bit more than usual and I always knew that. A bit more than common. Riding in the back of my parents car, I escaped everything and looked out the window, to the right. For some reason I always sat on the right side.

There I was, riding on a motorcycle next to the car, running up the dirt hills that they created to make the overpasses, flying – flying so fucking high – and landing on the downside of the hill of the next overpass full of fearless grace. The crowd roars.

Every time, every ride. Flying in the only way I knew how. I had no heroes, only wanted to be one. Always the dreamer…

There is magick. We create it. What if a person who faced a trauma comes to one of our show, remembers who they are and follows their drams? Just one fucking person, and a difference has been made in the world. Someone did it for me.

Yeah, I teeter on the precipice of how exquisite this life is – and at the same time, wondering if it’s worth it. Every day brings that question. Every day is fuck this, but…

I have something to give. I know this. I have something I want to ignore, as well. So fucking sick of being hungry, homeless.

But now – now I’m at her house, looking at her sleep. She who is upset at me for not taking care of myself, my leg – but still, I need to eat. I need to work when I can. I go back to emergency room tomorrow.

So many questions…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mother, did it need to be so high?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wednesday morning, 1:39am

I look for something – that feeling I get, the one that makes me write perhaps a little bit better, the one that makes me go a bit deeper and honest, with brighter colors and darker corners, but tonight it is elusive. All I can do is try to claw my way through myself, and find it. Find me. When things get tough I start to build again to make it through. Lie and say that everything is fine. Let’s get this show going. (I’ll make it through, I always do. I always do – but in times like these, I am never absolutely certain…)

Four days of terror – running through my mind all of the options until all I could do is sit in my van all night and almost all day, afraid to leave it. My home. Everything seemed impossible and for once, I almost believed it.

Build. Build higher, get shit done. Push the pain and fear and frustration and hate behind the walls and make certain it is sealed well. Get shit done. Sometimes I almost want to say that I don’t believe that it will work out, then need to remind myself that it always has.

Sometimes that doesn’t work. All there is is action. Instinct. Push everything away, a wolf trapped in a trap and all there is to do is cut something off. The wolf is found, my home is gone. Either way, we’re both dead. Cut something off. Get caught or get fucking free. If my van gets towed, everything is gone. If I get caught, at least I’ll have a place to stay for a small bit – but either way, everything will be gone. My home. My performance gear and costumes, years of love and work and memories, the way I make people happy, the tools I have to chase down my dreams – gone…

A few friends and I got it done. Chewed the trap off instead of the leg – yet strangely, during this time, on my left leg – the same side that was immobilized on Falkor, I somehow got a Staph infection. There were a few very small ones – ones that most would simply discount as ingrown hairs, but then – one larger one on my upper thigh, which I was able to manage, clean, care for and make go away – and then another on my calf. At first, it didn’t seem like anything to worry about – but since there is to little flesh on my calf, walking was excruciating for the first number of steps until my body made it work.

On Thursday afternoon I went to the emergency room, the doctor looked at it, and said that the most important thing was to keep off of it, keep it elevated. If it doesn’t get better, in five days, come back.

Friday was the Fire Blooms benefit, standing all night and then hobbling around breathing fire, as promised. Saturday night was the Alcatraz show…

Gods, the Alcatraz show…

So insanely amazing. If any show was absolutely perfect, this one was. If I ever feel that my words can do it justice, I will write about it – but not now, no. That deserves it’s own entry.

On my leg for six hours on hard prison concrete, then to the Drome for the afterparty where I tried to sit as much as I could. I was so incredibly not me – well, I was, but I was me encompassed in pain, and hoping my leg would be alright.

Saying farewells and crawling into Falkor in the dawn light, I fall asleep to the morning birds chirping. “It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day for the Tea Party.”. I say to myself as I crawl into my van – and it is. I wake up in an oven.

Off to
Oakland, to Keri’s house, with the smallest bit of sleep and remnants of the night’s drinking still floating in me. I sleep, she tells me to call her when I wake. I wake, get ready, call, find them. Half of who I am finds Keri and her friends in the Piedmont Cemetery. It was a lovely afternoon, and an exquisite eveining of talking before we just couldn’t anymore, and slept…

Most of Monday was spent at her house even though she had left for work – by this time my leg looked like a balloon and I thought it best to give it as much rest as I could. On the way over the bridge I called Boe, and asked if it was cool that I come over. Yeah, no problem. Hells yeah.

I slept on his couch, dong my best to take care of my leg. Keeping it high, trying to be comfortable. The morning finds me at the Emergency room as soon as I could get there…

The first thing the Doctor (who kinda reminds me of Barry White in his voice) said when he walked into the room is “Oh – that doesn’t look good at all.”

Great. Is this the trap? Am I going to lose my leg because I escaped the boot?

A procedure. Lay down on the gurney. I’m injected with a local anesthesia. The nurse – Juliet, recommends that I look up at the ceiling.

I now have a huge hole in my leg, a bit bigger than a quarter after he cut away all of the dead and dying skin, roughly 2mm deep, packed with gauze.

But I still have my leg.

I mean fuck – I did a similar procedure to myself just a few years ago, with my own knives and blades and instruments that didn’t come fresh out of a sterile wrapper – Cole can tell you – and it all worked out. Back then, I thought it was just a spider bite though.

Gotta tell you – the way it looked, I was sincerely worried about losing it – but Mr. Barry White Doctor got to where – and very likely got quite past thanks to the luxury of anesthetics, and me not having to look as I cut and dug the nastynasty out of my own flesh as I gritted my teeth with the pain as I watched whatever strange gelatinous combination of blood and puss go down the tob drain (silly boy, I know – but I’m prepared for a time where there *isn’t* a Doctor around now – and this time, I don’t have a bathtub.)

I still have my leg. I like it where it is and I’m keeping it – and now, it needs to carry me to bed.

Well, Boe’s couch.

Good night.

They're going to try to to MY HOME! I need tools, ASAP!

Posted on June 13, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

Yup, that’s the news I got today, thanks to Keri calling because my phone was dead. The cost of the tickets was absurd, which leads me to believe that there were already a number on it. According to what I read, once you get the tickets, then there is a 60 day grace period – only at which time your licence gets entered into the data base, and you’re booted…

cyber.eserver.org/das_boot.txt

I’ve been trying to drill out the main pin this evening, but am making very, very little headway – and I NEED YOUR HELP!

I NEED TOOLS! – specifically a cut-off wheel, and I have a power inverter, to 110 is no problem. Thanks to Zak, I also now have a gallon of gas in my van so it can run. Hell, even a cutting torch if you have one handy. Anything serious.

PLEASE HELP! This is not only how I get around to work, it is my HOME, and tomorrow at 3pm it is due to be towed, at which point I will not be able to get it back – haven’t had the cash to register it in my name yet. I know, my screw up – but if my van and home gets towed, I really won’t know what to do. I’m fucking terrified. On top of all that, my staph infection is acting up and I’m kinda feverish. I’ll hit the hospital after I get this remedied – but this is absoltely first.

Tonight is best, if you can get to me – I’m on 24th Street and San Bruno, in the Mission, two blocks east of Portrero. We’ll just cut it off and go, and I’ll figure things out from there – and start paying off the tickets, of course.

Please, please help if you can – won’t take but a few minutes.

Oh, and I was able to get a little time on my phone, so call if you want – 504.261.1099.

THANK YOU!

~kSea

They're going to try to to MY HOME! I need tools, ASAP!

Posted on June 13, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

cyber.eserver.org/das_boot.txt

I’ve been trying to drill out the main pin this evening, but am making very, very little headway – and I NEED YOUR HELP!

Please, please help if you can – won’t take but a few minutes.

Oh, and I was able to get a little time on my phone, so call if you want – 504.261.1099.

THANK YOU!

~kSea

Posted on June 12, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

of course.

To top it off, there is no ore time left on my phone.

Freedom's just another word…

Posted on June 12, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

9.11, Tuesday night. I run the motor, aware of the sacrifices made. The needle is far past the red line. I have no idea how much time I have, but I know it is not much.

If given the choice, would I have chosen this life?
Without question.

I have a few very small sips of cheap whiskey left. I drink to forget that I don’t have the money for food. Everything gets erased. Everythig is not so beautiful all of the time, and this fucking sucks. The Whiskey is gone, I still remember that I’m hungry.

Freedom.

I’m at 24th street and San Bruno, in the Mission. Bring me whiskey, or food, or something to cut off the boot. Some wonderful people have bought photos, but that money won’t see my bank account for a few days, and right now, I am in need.

Fuck it all.

Freedom's just another word…

Posted on June 12, 2007 by Casey Porter (aka kSea flux)

9.11, Tuesday night. I run the motor, aware of the sacrifices made. The needle is far past the red line. I have no idea how much time I have, but I know it is not much.

If given the choice, would I have chosen this life?
Without question.

Freedom.

Fuck it all.