I'm on Boardwalk Street on a fine spring day that is so inspiring, a shadow seems to have given birth to a 3D bud-bearing branch jutting out from a wall of a fitness center. I welcome this beautiful illusion. At the moment, this will function as a comment on (almost) everything. --and now, just as I was about to drive away, a bud of the illusion loosens and falls onto the hood of my car, becoming at some point in the loosening and/or fall and/or landing, a tiny egg, because what could have been a shattering instead was a hatching, a tiny golden winged ant as a flower of illusion.

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I am near where oil, water, a bike, cyclist, driver, car, and a woman who's been part of at least 60 years of sunrises & sunsets converged with fanfare of sirens, with olfactory swirls of nearby bread making visualized by oil swirls in the curbside water.

Visiting the Limited Fork Theory time mapping installation on a 40-degree mid-February late afternoon. A mix of human and nonhuman footprints, some human footprints quite ragged and melting into various nonhuman possibilities. Much partying and celebration ceremonies have occurred on the artifact graves. I hear geese, cars, and ambulances. A students walks with with an insulated viola case on her back; a child on her back from the distance sheenters. The jeans and rabbit sleeves suspended from the clothesline branch system dance, partnering with various tree limb shadows, on a golden dancefloor. "Leaves of Grass" cassettes remain intact, waiting for spring.

Meant to say that "I did NOT reveal my identity"; that revelation is being saved for another occasion.

Upon returning to Room 2057 the next day, there was growth; mapping of the chalkboard habitat in flat form of the "moonfather" pig breed had extended to include additional creatures: an amphibious lifeform whose eyes bulged as do pig snouts and small spirit-sized "moonfather" pig (from now onto be called "Alecia" was hovering above the amphibious lifeform'shoulder. A wow bifurcation of the chalkboard pig system to be sure, but an uber wow soon emerged in conversations of students discussing the mysterious note left by forkergirl for the artist (and keeper of the chalkboard habitat) and seeking "moonfather" information online. Imagine my delight in hearing that the artist WHO WAS ONE OF THE STUDENTS! plans to contact cosmic_microbe@comcast.net for details. I did reveal my identity, but will contact the artist via her email tonight.
Alas, on this day on which the pope announces that soon an Australian nun willbecone a saint, and Tiger Woods mskes a public aplogy i could not hear fir being in the "moonfather" zone; on thus day, the extension has been erased, a faint chalky memory persisting under this info constructed over the evidently weak amphibious forces:
TMP2
IS IN THE
FIBER STUDIO
Rm 1068

In room 2057 in the Art School, a pig was on a new chalkboard new to the space; pig as chalk outline of imperfect circle with a double loop curl of tail like two cursive lowercase e's. Thanks, Artist I cannot leave here the image of the pig; nor can I leave the chalk firm of my response, but I can type the response here: "Thanks for the Pig (the roundness says "moon father" breed --for more info, contact forkergirl: cosmic_microbe@comcast.net)

The food can be exceptional as it was today, on Superbowl Sunday, a blackened tilapia sandwich that can begin to justify the sacrifice the fish made, appreciation for the gift of tilapia and of salmon cooked to an ideal medium where the interior maintained a translucence suggesting that salmon interior had been polished with tears. How complex the joy, death of the fish so beautiful on the plate, a testimony to pink in the center of a spinach, pecan,and poppyseed weath. Blessings on the fish that helped me understand and express gratitude.

12 time-mapping grave makers head for the School of Art woods to choose sites for the burial of valued and/or revalued objects to allow time and elements to mark the objects further, to collaborate in refinement of form, structure, meaning. Art that becomes linked to space by having the environment of that space comment, becoming part of the piece. In some cases, also a return to the earth of materials that came from the earth. Aerial burials also, objects suspended on clothesline receptive for artistry of wind and other forms of meteorological enhancement, invitations to birds, squirrels, and other wildlife that manages to encounter it. Possibilities of visual, sonic, olfactory, tactile engagement with burial as a means of inviting multiple forms of collaboration in the making of an evolving installation that belongs to the place, is owned by the moment and that contributes to the moment. Details coming soon to the Limited Fork Theory Time Mapping blog.

Reflections of social and meteorological climates. Their shadows also. Images coming soon to the Limited Fork Remix Culture blog.

In the parking lot of the Zeeb Road Meijer village-style supermarket/department store combo, a great shadow of a two-tiered shopping cart; a shadow somewhat like a box kite shadow that landed on asphalt. Image coming soon to the Limited Fork Theory remixed culture blog.

A week from now, a group of Limited Fork Theory artists will bury work, assorted objects in the woods by the Art & Architecture buillding on north campus between Bonisteel and Fuller. Throughout the woods, objects will be placed underground (to become part of a root system already underway, a system that ultimately connects all, that huge Oregonian fungus, lattices and bivouacs of ants, etc.). We will also orchestrate above ground placements, objects suspended on clotheslines as part of and extensions of the canopy; these acts in done wats remixing gestures of Stephen Gill and Andy Goldsworthy, two notable nature collaborators.

It is in some ways a remixing of some of the intentions entangled (as can happen with roots and bifurcating systems) in Stephen Gill's "Buried" project (the companion book includes a print with the injunction: "bury your own," so in some ways, we're apparently following interpretations of the rules (the "your own" a tad problematic for LFT), and breaking, as beautifully as we can, other parts of the rules, replacing them with other parameters.
We are collaborating with environmental forces and entities to extend the works, to co-make, to co-own as well as ci-author. A final unearthing, a final taking in of the aesthetic laundry will occur at the end of March when we will configure the environmental outcomes into delights of form impossible to define now and perhaps not even in March.
Something will happen to what is buried and suspended so as to allow co-authors of environment and circumstance to mark the objects. We look forward to the signitures of dirt, the poetry of melt and seepage. Coming is some of the joys of communing with some of the superorganism and superecosystem with which we share an embrace.

Just driving by (on US-23 south) the illuminated back of the Hampton Inn; maintaining a brisk pace approaching Wastenaw Avenue exits on a mild January night (36 degrees F, 2 degrees C). Club Kiss on the radio. Left-turn signal matched the beat for four seconds --nice temporary synchronized connection. Now listening to "Makeda."

Heading in the opposite direction; in the gathering weight of winter's early nightfall, the bulbous shape of the Plymouth water tower is masked with darkness, a privacy cloak.

Returning to the USA after a trip to Windsor Ontario to practice some Canadian speak and to shop at the Real Canadian Superstore where I captured a sound mix scape using RJDJ.
Was not detained in Customs and had no contraband. Declared a sweater, Becel margarine, Push, and two cases of Pepsi LIME --it's back in the provinces! Last year I paid $30.00 for a vintage case of US Pepsi lime from the Soda Guy. No stars visible; all are on the other side of a cloud mass as aparently solid as a table draped with crisp, formal linens.

A flurry of birds and a maze of construction that reminded me of being, for the first time, inside the Mousetrap game I played long, long ago. Unleaded regular petrol: $2.50 a gallon.

Just saw on the history channel this morning Saharan yardangs (chalky wind-carved formations) that resemble the Plymouth water tower just coming into view.