sameolme As I beheld the deepening lake that surrounded the just completed jr. high,
great joy and pride filled me.
They had stolen a big chunk of my woods,
they had buried my creek in a concrete tunnel ,and they had built a prison in which I would have to do time next year.
It had been a wonderful woods in which I had discovered beauty, adventure and refuge. I witnessed miracles occurring in that stream; momma crayfish with hundreds of babies; brilliant red and yellow maple leaves floating downsteam
reflecting transformed sunlight.......
and the brutal courage of life.......
a raccoon's foot, left in a steel trap,
after it had chewed it off to free itself.

They built that ugly brick school right where my stream ended up as a swamp.
They drained the swamp and diverted the stream into a big pipe.
In late August, just a week or so before its first school year, me and my older brother Chris were out during a ferocious thunderstorm.The stream was roaring into the concrete hole and we went into action.
Throwing large tree limbs first, then more and more of everything we could
find, tear out of the wet ground, or break off trees and bushes, we worked feverishly to plug that whole. As the flow slowed we were able to more carefully plug smaller gaps, untill the stream sarted to revert back to its course, a course that aimed down directly at the school.
The already soaked schoolyard was quickly submerging, briefly we were winning! There were boxes of brand new textbooks sitting on the schoolroom floors soaking up our vengence.
Perhaps the most satisfying days work of my life.
sameolme I am now on the other side of the divide.
I am the vangard of construction,living
in a whimsical hippie house nestled on an isolated pastoral mountain ridge.
I will help in constructing new and
'worthwhile' buildings and this fanciful hippie house that I'm living in
is slated for demolition. I've quickly grown to love this house like none in my adulthood. Full of odd angles, suprising views, a disregard of functionality or convention it is
"my home" more than any place has been
in a long time, I love it and will lose it.
me i'm looking at life from the vandal's side. you ever see that? i'm the guy who paints that deep message on the wall at 430am. yeah. you see my work everywhere, you don't know who did or when, but you know it says something good. i'm behind the scenes, the underground culture that, for the most part, holds up this city. and you still choose to arrest us.... 041230
what's it to you?
who go