B is for Stealing

God meets us at the point of our need. He greets us at the point of our understanding and guides us to His. so enter Uncle God. Uncle God love you. He real like a father you know. But maybe... for right now... better. Because some of us have had fathers that sucked so much ass eh that the concept of GOD = Father is almost hard for us to bite into. But my uncles have been muy bueno in all their ways. So here's the thought... Uncle God - who art in Heaven, guide us on Earth. Advise us and Guide Us. Lead Us with your Arm around our shoulder. Hear our ramblings. Scold if you must. Just don't leave us in the cold. Uncle God, better than our fathers, Live Forever in our Hearts and our Souls. For Thine is your Kingdom and we are your children disguised as nephews and nieces. Bless you Uncle God

i did this for my Catharsis Experiment Group several eons ago. now you too can enjoy a discourse on vegetarianism as told by Johnny Depp.... brother. of course, it kinda fuzzy now but still pax...

A new blog is out. Masqureader - An exploration of contemporary writing based in Trinidad & Tobago. Go here. Be a part of it. Go now. Pax

me performing "were it all possible" at the first annual Erotic Art Week earlier this year and here it is now while i work on my audio commentary My sweat wants to sex you Were that at all possible. Tiny drops of me sinks beneath the surface of your skin. And you would feel me And you would feel me moving And that would’ve been good. Were that all possible. My heart wants to sex you Were that at all possible. Beats match a rhythm; faster, faster when we’re together Slower when we’re apart This drum wants to come inside and lead You in a new dance One throbbing beat at a time Were that at all possible. My tongue wants to sex you Were that at all possible Oh! The burden of speech! Come, let me put my words in your mouth Let’s construct new language This-tongue-on-your-back… what does it say? This-tongue-on-your-neck… what does it say? This-tongue-between-your-breasts… what does it say? But more than that… what can you tell me? These nostrils want to sex you Were that at all pos...

1. The Plutocrat in my wanderings i once saw upon an island a man headed, iron-hoofed monster who ate of the earth and drank of the sea incessantly. and for a long while i watched him. then i approached him and said, "have you never enough; is your hunger never satisfied and your thirst never quenched?" and he answered saying, "yes, i am satisfied, nay i am weary of eating and drinking; but i am afraid that tomorrow there will be no more earth to eat and no more sea to drink." - Kahlil Gibran 2. A Special Telepathic Message " Go here and see it " - Tracy J Hutchings

some time ago i had the pleasure of working on a little project word of it appeared on a site called MAD (Museum of Arts and Design) kudos to the behind the scenes people like Darryn Boodan (who directed), Rodell Warner (photographer), Richard Rawlins (founder of artzpub films) among other such groovy people. and now "Critical Spaces".... Critical Space is a short video featuring a conversation between Alice Yard co-instigator Christopher Cozier and Draconian Switch publisher Richard Rawlins . It explores ideas about how to define the Caribbean and its creative possibilities, and examines the collaborative networks, off- and online, that are evolving around Alice Yard and its partners. Critical Space is an artzpub films production. Director: Darryn Boodan. Editor: Tracy J. Hutchings . Photography: Rodell Warner , Richard Rawlins, and Damian Libert. Equipment provided by: Dave Williams, firsttfloor studios.

mute... Remember when we had one throat? who has come up and confused our language that we are now forced to find our voices in another? silence. why should i die a mute. must i... die a mute

[ written by Tracy j h :- artwork by Darren Cheewah . more Cheewah HERE ] the belly of a god. oh to lie on the belly of ah god/and listen as the world turns inside her/so many issues, to read through/so many stories, to climb/till you get there - there!/to this and that point/where all you can do is lay your head on the belly/of this woman/this good-thing/this god-thing/this supreme imperfection/and listen to wisdom churn away/mid way - mid section - mid session/between the lips of judgment/and the feet that embrace... dancing oh!/oh! i wish i was there/to cast my cares on the belly/of this pseudo god-thing/this supreme imperfection/who intuitively knows what i know long before i knew what i knew/oh to lie down on the belly of ah god/and sleep... even as the world turns inside her. tracy j h ©

"it's been, one week since i looked at you" the thing about being sick is that it puts things in terrible perspective. i've been away for a week with a viral chest infection and since i have a history with Ashtma... well you can just imagine how glorious i felt. up to last night i stayed pretty much half the night awake coughing and changing clothes. and i'm fighting a gagging puke with dear life. of course, lying in your bed for a week has its advantages. i finally started to read my Kahlil MasterPieces book. I'm at "Jesus, Son of Man".... i love Kahlil. i forgot how much i loved reading because.... i haven't actually done it in a while. i started to put bones together on the skeleton which will be the structure of my documentary. i wrote a new piece of randomness called "Broken Cathederal" and i started something. basic gist is - "on the morning after i died, i had such a headache" oh! and i managed to hear my new jingle LIV...