HappyFt Travels

Jan. 22, ‘10 Dream

I sit in an empty parking lot in Canada, waiting to get gassed by riot police. Across from me, a sign has been painted to commemorate a 1992 uprising. Strange blue smoke whips in on me well before the police cars show up. I hold my ground in the lot, wondering where the other protesters are. A second person finally comes in to the lot. He is local so wise in the tactics of the local police. He tells me that the march is down the street, getting blasted by riot cops. We continue to dodge the nerve gas, hiding behind and inside a parked car several times. A jet-propelled gust of wind hits us hard as flames streak down the street to the right of where we’re being blown over. The wind pushes us apart towards the back of the parking lot.

As I grab on to a solid piece of concrete at the edge of the lot, dozens of people come into view while they’re running down the street. The police corral them and force them into the lower section of the parking lot. I try to conceal myself in the rafters above them, but they see me and make me come down to be ticketed with the rest of the protesters.

After being released, my new friend and I walk by a huge piece of machinery. I watch as he knocks a large piece over, and then notice unmarked secret service guards on a nearby roof. Two women see our plight and help us escape in to a nearby building. We come out to a balcony and then hope over to another building’s balcony. The women living there are mixed in the uprising’s support, but a few of them know the local guy. We eat and take a break from the police violence. One woman tells me to go to Union Station after I leave. “That train stop has beautiful waterfalls at its entrance.”

I put my loose items in a plastic bag and leave. I do not get noticed or caught by the police. I also do not find Union Station and the waterfalls.

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As some of you may know, Stencil Nation has been hard to find online and in the book stores. As the economy collapsed and fluttered over the past year, I ended my touring and began focusing on other projects (Stencil Archive, puppetry, events production, etc.). As things faltered in the world, Stencil Nation’s 2nd print run began to run out. There were moments in the year when I could barely fulfill the orers from www.stencilnation.org.

But I did, and Manic D Press continued to ride and survive the troubled waves in the publishing world (will the Kindle, etc. kill the book? Think not, but now something to think about.). Since Stencil Nation was released, dozens of stencil, street art, and graffiti books have been released, making a 3rd print of the book a hard decision for the always scrappy Manic D Press.

I just got word from Manic D that a 3rd print run will get distributed Feb. 24! This is good news to those of you who haven’t found the few places left online (like the book’s site) to find the book for a reasonable price. Amazon.com had copies of the book for sale well past $100 each. For those who don’t dig online for the best deal, that’s an unreachable amount to pay for the book.

Now that a 3rd print is about to be released, the price will once again be reasonable.

Thanks again for all your support over the past few years. I hope you all are enjoying the book.

I currently have 1st and 2nd print copies for sale via www.stencilnation.org

Russell —

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I am currently doing sound and stage managing for the Big Tadoo Puppet Crew’s “Breath of Fresh Air” show. The show goes to Alameda County (East Bay) elementary schools and teaches the children how to walk and bike to school safely. We set up two huge cranky/crankie devices at every school, with allen wrenches as the only tool.

The show has been running for three seasons now, and I posted photos of the crankies when I was helping Jonathan Youtt build them out. During our Fall season last year, I snapped a few pics of the tried and true crankies.

The two cranky scrolls (center) are placed for the top of the show. The blue straps were added after the show started running. They give the canvas more structure to stay smooth as the velo-cranks move the scene along.

Photo of the front of the scrolls (while I stand on the puppet stage). Notice how the blue straps give tension to the canvas. Both scrolls roll from the middle out, ending up at school!

June Rollalot (Sirraum) and his mom (Afi) stand in front of their house. Once June starts rolling (and singing), the scroll is cranked to simulate movement.

While in NYC December, I caught Bread & Puppet’s theater show. Like their Summer show, they had a ding dong (small performance before and after the main peformance) in the lobby. The performer (ahh, can’t remember his name!) gave an intimate two-person audience toy theater in a suitcase show. He used a cranky too!

As a backdrop for the Bread & Puppet ding dong show, the small cranky box is used to change scenes and create depth and movement. It all fits in the case/stage!

For more info on crankies, go to my Crankie Archives page and see/read all about it!

Tags: crankie, Puppets
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Jan. 14, ‘10 Dream

I am visiting a desert-covered planet and am luckily in the privileged class. My class live in exotic, high-rise buildings constructed from red-colored tubes and glass. Floating above the living center, more red-cubed structures house water tanks filled with fish. These two staples sustain the privileged class. Outside theses structures, the people who get by in the harsh climate live in a city that looks like modern-day Cairo.

I spend an evening in the structure with several attractive women who only want to marry the super rich of our class. We go to a club, and bored, I meet a man who seems as disgusted as I am with the follies of our class. We become friends and even practice an intricate, intimate survival drill for the imminent nuclear attack.

In this drill, one puts an object in side one’s throat, which causes gills to form on one’s neck. Once the gills are formed, one can go into a water tank and breath in the water. Somehow this is the developed survival method for a nuclear attack.

Later, I decide to leave the controlled environment of the structure and “slum it” in the dirty streets of the sprawling city. On one visit outside, I try to find a cafe to have some tea. On a second visit outside, I ride an odd-shaped bike with my friend, CC and LRE. LRE needs to sew something, so we stop at a tailoring stand in the market. LRE walks behind the counter and uses the sewing machine for her task. Back on our bikes, we go down a steep hill and find a pub for a drink. I have been to this pub before.

The nuclear attack is finally coming and no one except myself and my friend seem to care. The first mushroom cloud flashes in the distance. I see it reflected in the panes of the floating aquarium structure. As my friend and I prepare for our own mushroom cloud, we place our gill-making device tools out. He tells me to get my tank ready, but I tell him that I want to share a tank with him. “Why?” he asks. “Because I love you,” I say. “I have always loved you.”

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Jan. 12, ‘10 Dream….

USA as we know it doesn’t exist. Proof comes when a person tries to pay for something with USA dollar bills. Being rare, the man behind the counter takes them with amazement and interest. The person who paid with the obsolete money is part of a group of creative people who have just come back into civilization to get by on the fringes. This group lived in the woods for years and left their seclusion by piloting white gliders out of the hills and into the farmland outside the city.

While visiting their new, urban compound (not sure if I am undercover for the government or not), I walk past three racks of printed t-shirts. All the prints are in red ink, with political images and messages. Inside, each of the artists have sections of the shack (it is made from sheets of metal) to display their items for sale. One member has intricate sculptures made out of paper or paper-mache.

Soon after my visit, the compound is peacefully raided (no stormtrooper/SWAT tactics) and all the underground artists are taken into custody. The money exchange was their tragic mistake!

………. Another Dream Fragment from that Morning …….

A theme park exists in the side of a tree-covered hill or mountain. Fantastical rooms exist in carved out parts of the hill. Houses can be rented, shopping malls stretch out into the earth. Even the bathrooms are elegant and high class. Wandering the maze-like halls and stairwells, I discover a huge, indoor pool.

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