AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

Why disguise wrinkles with a Lincoln-style beard, when you can get complimentary botulism toxins injected into your face?

WHAT: It's an Abraham Lincoln’s Birthday Bash o’ Bands! Featuring The Fuxedos, the Abe Lincoln Story, and more.

WHEN: This Tuesday, Feb. 12, at 9 pm. Doors open at 8, The Fuxedos hit at 10:30.

WHERE: Safari Sam's, 5214 W. Sunset Blvd. (bet. Western and Normandie), LA, 90027. (323) 666-7267. safari-sams.com

WHO:

*MONOGROOVE starts off with some Emancipated psychedelic powerpop at 9 pm:
myspace.com/monogroove

*Followed by the Soul-Garage-Swing of THE ABE LINCOLN STORY at 9:45:
myspace.com/abelincolnstory

**THE FUXEDOS hit the stage with a Log Cabin-flavored theatrical-comedy-lounge-punk-storytelling-art rock assault at 10:30:

(click on the links to view accompanying photos)

Living in Colorado (my state of birth) is an incredible experience. I drive 30 minutes to and from work every day along the front range of the Rockie Mountains between Boulder and Longmont. Boulder is roughly 40 miles north of Denver, Longmont is another 20 miles north east. It is one of the most beautiful drives in the country I think. Even after dark (I work the graveyard shift) when I drive into Boulder, if there is any snow on the ground, particularly with a full moon, the view is absolutely breathtaking and yet somehow slightly erie. In the early 1980's I lived in Breckenridge up in the mountains, on full moons it was like total daylight there. As a poet and photographer, I find all of this very inspiring.

I digress.

I woke up early yesterday and saw a sliver of the moon - there still at 7am. Flickers of the sunrise were just reaching it and it hung above my neighbor's house like a prop on a string. I grabbed my digital camera - but no this is an image I'll just have to remember. There's a song by the Indigo Girls "Don't take a picture remember this is in your heart."

After the storms leave. That's how it is now with the city fresh and sparkling after a big wash. It still takes my breath away sometimes as I speed along on my bike - daytime or night. The lights on the bridges. The water reflecting the houses or the lights.

Listen to the newest episode of NedPR and then submit your own art for upcoming episodes...

Listen: www.nedpr.org

Subscribe through Itunes: http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=135156356

• Read Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay Self-Reliance and “insist on yourself”
• Ronnie Yates shares his piece Apoplexy of Self-doubt
• Jimmy Greenbeam’s speaks to:
o Your butts
o The closure of Montana De Oro State Park and what we can learn from it
o E-mailing Greenbeam at jimmy@greenbeam.org with your environmental thoughts, concerns or favorite nature story
• Frank C. Lipari speaks on his life and creative pursuits
o Download Frank’s interview in full at http://www.nedpr.org/Frank%20Lipari%20Interview.mp3

Hello everyone-
Jeremiah Stansbury is putting together a new art gallery, in Downtown L.A, along with other local artists.
It's in a beautiful location overlooking the city skyline.
Come check out the artwork, make new friends and have a good time.
FEB. 8, 2008 @ 6pm.

CHI Phoenix Lofts
1855 industrial st # 609
Los angeles CA 90021

*I intend to start going thnrough the submissions the second weekend of February, so................
Let me know as soon as you can if you wish to be part of Imagine Nation *

Open into our Expanding Metaverse --
moving through the words and images

http://emergingvisions.blogspot.com

NoW
scroll down to see the Submission Guidelines

Submit your visions to Imagine Nation,
Emerging Visions visionary art ezine #11

due to emerge in deepest February

libramoon42@mindspring.com

make it happen ~

Good Morning Everyone!

It is the dawn of a new blogging cycle. My name is Austin Wilkin and I am a screenwriter and filmmaker in sunny southern California, Los Angeles to be more specific. Hollywood U.S.A.

Although movies are my first passion, writing is what I cannot help but do. Since I was a child I have been writing short stories, poems, faux journals of other people, whether real or imagined. Writing happens.

Love and tenderness,
I've heard those words before;
No one else was listening,
Too busy keeping score
Of the endless body count.
Though no one will admit
To pulling the first trigger,
To stirring up the - bit

About you and I together,
It seeems a little odd
That we could kill each other
- in the name of God.

Love and tenderness,
In chronic short supply.
The only tears ever shed
Are after someone dies.
Peaceful negotiations
Always end too soon.
Each one of us is hostage
To every fatal wound.

Love and tenderness,
In this I'll keep my faith.
I'll hold myself together
And hope for changing tastes.
But though the wind is changing,
It still whispers in my ear;
Of those who fear for what they speak
Not speak of what they fear.

Lacking rhythm, the rain danced,
Spaces filled with puddles of hopping
Notes of peace; and bits, and pieces
Of where you wanted to be.

Being warm, from inside out.
Unbuttoning with the fluff of
Questions still moist
On the back of your teeth.

Faith is an island,
Where they speak in tongues
Which wrap around my gut,
And stick to my soul.

I know I’m not elegant
Watching where my money’s spent;
My landlord still wants the rent.
Hell, I’ll never be chic.

I’ll never be as square as Sloane.
Mortgage? I can’t raise a loan.
Public transport brings me home.
Aw hell, I’ll never be chic.

Tax man still on the hunt,
I’m just ahead of the blunt
Edged sword of the government.
Who know I’ll never be chic.

Maybe I’m a novelty
Proposing peaceful philosophy,
But I think you know what I mean
When I say I’ll never be chic.

If I’m a child of the world,
Why is my parent bought and sold.
What other children are so cold?
No. I’ll never be chic.