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Fossil's Dream

by Wishbone Zoe

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Mellow-Tron 06:09
down in the glades where i sit with you again, particles begin their spin and every thought we have is wired to our brains, transmitting through our hands. beneath us, dead fossils are dreaming pale dreams, swimming up to just beneath the surface, in movement with the phases of the moon. there's rhythm, and i'm humming like a mellotron
dear mr, highway patrol, i've got it under control and i'd like to make it to boston tonight if i can, i could have easily taken the wrong exit and ran and avoided spilling my guts and my cool in the snow i am and have always been a flailing kite, but weighted with a muscle of stubborn stoicity i had to prove i was a strong girl, but my body still hurt if i were an elephant, i'd lift my wise ancient head i'd never forgive you and i'd never forget what you said: "what are they doing up there?" why should i care? they're not saints. "did you put fish into the magistrate's soup?" they inquired. i said, "my golly, i hope not." lately, it seems the only movement around me are those of the roots tying me down to the spot. my arms are blistering from holding all this excess weight, i can't even soak in rays from the sun. blue veins make such a pretty sense when nothing does: atoms swarming, collapsing as one. my dear, you know you've got some sun and your summer-bruised eyes look tired. you're far too green to be blue. one day you'll learn that your bloody teeth won't do you favors, you're the only one strong enough to carry you.
Pulmona Lisa 02:53
there is a woman and they call her pulmona lisa she don't talk too much but she smiles and she brea-ea-ea-ea-eathes she takes deep breaths in and out, and while the people break their backs trying to get round obstacles she floats effortless- ly over them on a trail of bubbles i met a boy hiding in a mailbox, i said "what are you hiding from?" he said, he wasn't sure, he said "my amygdala has final say over EVERYTHING i do, so i stay out of the way of the happy confident people so they don't ask me questions." they asked me if i was a trypophobic and they showed me some pictures... (!!!g34r6ta#$^&E!) but a hand or an indigo child could bring me to tears they said, "there must be something wrong here" and showed me some more... (@#&^ERDF@E*&DG!!) but they never once got to the deepest part of my fears... anyway: that woman, the one they call pulmona lisa, think i'd like to try to be her and live underneath what people consider to be sanity (sharp and sanitary) like foxes and bugs and cats living in trashcans know, that it's never too late to be loved suggested reading: "quiet" by susan cain
Oh 05:37
oh when? oh! when when oh when ohohwhenwhenohohohwehn will things start to make sense to me? i've been walking around with my head in a vertigo conductant jelly (and the lightning is getting fairly close ...am i feeling lucky? i don't know) i went to talk to my barefoot friend in the falls-town, and she said: take it to zeus in the ionosphere, he might tell you what to do oh why! why! whyohwhywhyohwhy do the things I need to understand lay underneath a viscous layer of mud? i've been floating in the garden o'er the place where i previously stood the moths (butterflies) in my belly are holding me above the ground, disguised as wet, heavy leaves until now i went to talk to my anarchist friends who looked at me with cloudy eyes and they said: take it to zeus in the ionosphere, he might tell you what to think he might tell you to kiss his ring, but i'll tell you one thing: there's nothing you can tell him that he doesn't already know and i said OH: what if i already know?... and i said OH: what if i don't WANT to know?... such are things in this world
Gumbo Jumbo 03:11
i love fargo, and fargo loves me i heard voices in my head so i smashed my tv i'm not interested in what you're trying to sell me, why you trying to manipulate me? outcast, canyon-sized, everybody pick a side (L/R) outcast, stigmatized everybody close your eyes to the spectacular lies animals are looking rather gravely at us and we keep our eyes conveniently apart and sharks and butterflies when they're dead behind the glass don't give a fuck about your piece of modern art PEOPLE WITH THEIR HANDS CLAMPED SHUT ON THEIR EARS WILL ALWAYS SEE THE WORLD THEIR WAY AND THEY'LL FIGHT THE FATIGUE IN THEIR ARMS AS THEY HOLD THEM SO THEY DON'T HAVE TO HEAR WHAT YOU SAY now i am not a diplomat that keeps a vile of cynicism pushed in my pocket to wash my hands of this world no i really tie myself to the tracks like this because i want to see my wings unfurl
Pangaea 05:20
when i sat and looked up at the veins of the trees i felt something colossal shift in my mind as if the groaning heaves of Eon came loose below me and sent me staggering for a moment in time and with my arms extended outward ahead, i try to feel every bead of blood in my bones i've never been very good with saying what i mean but i've an even worse fear of saying nothing and being alone when the prokaryotic seas swam and the atmosphere boiled they took all that they wanted without care they were children! they explored! how could they possibly know that they'd soon die out once they used up all of their air and i'd like to say that it doesn't bother me much i can look back, learn the lessons and be satisfied. but i kid myself trying to carry the weight of the phanerozoic race with my mitochondria screaming from inside and when i was a creature living in Pangaea i looked up at the sky and would feel afraid but the cold shine of stars warmed our bodies in the dark, the same dust from which we were made and i'd like to say that it doesn't bother me much i can find peace by looking inside but i kid myself when i stare into the eyes of the ocean and it blamelessly looks back, knowing i'm the one who has something to hide tell me: when you were a creature living in pangaea did you look up at the sky and feel afraid? did the cold shine of stars warm your body in the dark? did you question once the dust from which they were made?
damien hirst is of no interest to me but i figured i'd take the course anyway what's three more credits on my AS for some skills as an artist i could use every day? someone said "heymanwatchyourfeetdon'tsteponmyvintageboots" so i took the seat furthest away we watched a naked woman scream and naked people sleep and a film of a fly on the wall over the course of a day (look at those energetic lines) (but look deeper) (i like this moment here) we call ourselves the future of the intellectual world but our activism's only got by some we'll wear patches on our backs of Siouxsie Sioux and Crass but it's only to show that we've got one (élaborer, se il vous plaît?) i. don't. want. to. call. this. glove. stapled. to. a. wall. art. and it was the last thing i expected when i set this doll on fire for you to think it's poignant and smart (this use of water) (shows how time is fleeting.) (it's ASTOUNDING) (élaborer, se il vous plaît?)
Day 1 03:40
san bruno, ca. 7am wellfleet, ma. 4pm where have i been today? my sunshine is gone where have i been today? my sunshine is gone could've sworn i woke up laughing yesterday on the lawn when pastel light was breaking, but the sunshine gone someone got on in colma who reminded me of me i turned my face to the rushing landscape and tried not to see that's when the humming started deep inside my head as mute whiteness crept up and ossified my confidence into a milk-lead i've got a bag of obstacles waiting for me but i'd like to sign my name on the cast on your knee cars on the freeway, sunshine following me it becomes day quicker here than i ever thought it'd be


released May 28, 2016

Produced by Wishbone Zoe

Written, Recorded & Mixed by S Kochanski @ Attic Stables (Westfield MA) in '15

"Rabbits" mixed by Anand Nayak at Sonelab (Easthampton MA) in '16

Mastered by Mark Alan Miller at Sonelab in '16

All sounds by S Kochanski except:

radio bits
Drums on 4, 6, & 10 -- JJ O'Connell
violin on 4 & 9 and vocals on 6 -- Caroline O'Leary
vocals on 4, 6, & 9 -- Matt O'Leary & Iva Kurkimaki
vocals on 6 -- Josh Daniel

music from 2015/2016
old tape nonsense from 2000-2003 by S Kochanski & V DePrille

For Vicky & Gabby


all rights reserved



Wishbone Zoe Massachusetts

musician, animator, performance artist, writer, civilian

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