Gaia Community: Macastat's Blog

blades of the unmanned drone

http://macastat.gaia.com — Sun, 01 Jul 2007 23:06:11 GMT

blades of the unmanned drone

she assaulted the top floor with a ferocity they had never seen before, only to be mowed down by the blades of the unmanned drone

NEWS FLASH: If you would like to watch a TV episode about ice cream which includes our company, Sibby's Organic Ice Cream, check your local listing for the current airing of the Midwest news magazine, "Discover Wisconsin". ....or, www.Discoverwisconsin.com

having painted the fence the two friends contemplated their next adventure

www.macastat.com

By God, be Blessed

Tony

Tags: conscious, rite of passage, enlightenment, the journey, viroqua, macastat, spirit, soul

What is your destination?

http://macastat.gaia.com — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 22:38:50 GMT

moon flyby

Change course once past the moon

Aqueous Orbs upon Silken Web

They were swooping by me, calling back and forth between the other (discussing me, I anthropocentrically assumed)... as I sat menacingly below their screeching babies perched in the nest just above my head. I thought they might be angry or afraid and felt guilty.... until that is, we made eye contact.

She and her mate, now accepting of my presence, gleefully nourish their spawn.

Peer into Timeless

it was thirty years ago.
No, wait, it was moments ago...
Her only eternal part
the soul
.... dancing strings of energy
the same soul that inhabits her flesh
three decades ago
the same that does define her today

...an "ice cream parlor restaurant"
My sibling penned in stone
almost exactly thirty years ago
...a message to self
today to then to now.

Black Barlow

peer into the cosmos

Purple Jive

Organic Zone Ice Cream Parlor 1

Early Lesion in Navigation

There, this way to the light!

Little General

My Porch

Lansing Crossing Late Sun

Flower From Me Mum

Jet Airliner Man

Tiers without Pier

Contemplate Place

Dude

Pier Basement

Palm in Heaven

Step From the Flock

Music to Beach Stroll

What is your destination?

...for healing is not a destination
but a daily practice.

Be Blessed

Tony

Tags:

Vibralux turned up to ten

http://macastat.gaia.com — Mon, 23 Apr 2007 18:45:40 GMT

with this I do thee absorb
thine ripple of soul
that does become
thine one wisdom
one
-tony macasaet (me)

Ripple Capacitor

Green Fest in Chicago... I huge success, while in Viroqua our annual International Faire at the Viroqua Public Market... also a smash!
At Green Fest, we sampled about 2000 spoonfuls of our Sibby's Organic Ice Cream, and ran out of ice cream by 1pm!
Over the fest days we received affirmation for no less than six proposed new flavors / product lines we are aggressively working on.
At the Viroqua Public Market - one of the best single sales days to date! World music, dance and words from start to close.
Saturday night, we attended the opening night of 'Butterfly", a club next to the Funky Buddha Lounge (and owned by the same dude). it was a Green Show after-party, and many of the organic entrepreneur players were in attendance... a fantastic assortment of folks. Then, I got a text from my Chicago brother-in-arm Alberto... come to this party on Western... "you never seen anything like this" he stated boldly. A description that could not be ignored. Suffice it to say, though we were quit innocent, the party deteriorated into cop cars, threatening glass bottle wielding thugs and other delightful unpleasantness, lol.
And, perhaps a personal grand finale for me... after the party was disbanded, the 'band' I was kicked out of and I took the illogical 2am ghetto side street sojourn to the interiors of the Chicago Westsyyyyde to the old practice space. There it was, where one of the most monumental experiences of my life took place... a brief 10 minutes that would change my life, make me question all that I am and hope to be...
One of the new members of Alberto's band is a psychotically skilled rock drummer.... I learned he was incapable, through some physical aberration I surmised, to play at any volume other than deafening, eat bleeding, tympanic membrane tearing volume!
About 4am, it happened... the event that forever altered me.... As John Hiatt wrote... I turned a Vibralux up to ten--henn-hah-hen-hen!
With a drummer trying to kill me with sound waves, for this first time in my life I played an electric guitar on maximum volume.. it was a fast tempo dark punk-rock affair. There was literally a moment, where I distinctly recall thinking it was a trick of some sort... it sounded that bad-ass... a cruel prank perhaps, like a kid's toy guitar that plays something grand to even random attempts at strumming. it was not until I closed my eyes, and carefully tuned to the music assaulting my fragile inner ear fibrils... this was coming from me, and that Vibralux turned up to ten.

spent

ripple capacitor BW

thorn & renew

coin of 1863

Cardinal and Bud

snow robin

Viroqua Jailbreak

The now nearly-abandoned historic Vernon County Jail, in Viroqua, Wisconsin USA... the county courthouse is behind.

The shot was taken from across the city park on a rock formation peak. We battled fierce winds and headed the siren song.... At this imposing pinnacle sits the patient Viroqua Time Capsule... "not to be opened until... 2046"

...It's also were, legend holds, a beautiful maiden soared to her death, morning her forbidden love.

A Pause in Her Meadow

Red & Green

paucity of self

April Ice

Vulture

Renew what hast been lost

Horizontal Ice

Water Crossing

The turkey vultures circled overhead menacingly as if our demise was imminent. To the disappoint of their appetites the hike proceeded with only serene camaraderie amongst our eclectic trio.... past the moss and ice, serpinginous waters, verdant ferns and dead elms... we selected the horse trail at the fork... the early spring lull allowing us passage through the normally impassable.
But we didn't anticipate the mandatory water crossing miles into the sojourn. The grand fallen tree carved by the river, a sculpted bridge deposited there for us wary explorers.

Drenched

Astride the lateral divide

Hawks Overhead

Bonsai

bifurcate

New Salsa

Fernando

Bread Puppets

Converse with Gesture

Dog Tears

As you may know we are shooting a documentary film about our crazy little town, Viroqua, in the mystic, unglaciated lands of SW Wisconsin USA.

Last year we filmed the "last farmer in Viroqua" segment.... during the shoot the farmer's dog lumbered about. We all noticed how morose he appeared. The farmer shared that he used to be the best cattle dog he'd ever seen.

He would proudly keep the cows in line, and after many years clearly came to love each animal in the herd.
As things go in our land of industrialized animal exploitation, the farmer eventually could no longer make money from the cattle and they were sold off en mass.... the entire herd was likely slaughtered soon after. One day all his friends were suddenly gone and probably all dead.
To this day, the sad dog wanders about, looking to the pastures for his beloved herd.

Layers of Solar Rays

Invade Ol' Truck

Dance into the Molten

do you see the dancers?

By God Be Blessed
tony

Tags: spirit, consciousness, god, love, hope, romance, chicago, viroqua, macastat, macasaet

autuer

http://macastat.gaia.com — Mon, 09 Apr 2007 00:15:26 GMT

At the Moment of Transition

Open Windows & Doors

Members

This is courting night for the Amish up on the ridge. These young ladies are probably walking to meet other youth on this warm spring evening.

[note: from my discussion with local Amish friends, their culture and ideology prohibit posing for photography. Candid images of Amish life, where the face is de-emphasized are acceptable]

tether

Layers of Burden

gaze at the dead

She said, 'I don't want to be burried, but if I was, I woudn't mind being burried... here."

Atop a wooded hill in the tiny town of Chaseburg, Wisconsin, across from an old school on an adjacent hill, a near-abandoned cemetery guards the bones... while we mill about in reverence and gratitude.

Headstone at Sunset

Bluebird

Swamp @ Dusk

Gears

A Walk In the Rain

Talisay, Philippines

We were visiting my 95 year old grandmother in the town my father grew up in, Talisay, Philippines, filming a documentary about our experience.

My Dad, brother and I went for a stroll in the quiet streets. A sudden downpour forced us under an overhang of a general store. Inside, without planning it we each selected umbrellas, matched to our attire and our moods... and walked home.

best friends

Eyeball

Bridge Out

I've driven past for twenty years, but somehow never noticed....a decaying bridge over the Kickapoo, now leading into a field, with a sign warning ‘Road Closed'. Adorned with holes and curved metal, blessed with a symphony of river notes below, in the spotlight of sun... she is a lonely beauty.

Forks

Pumpjack

The pump jack benith an old decaying windmill... a farm, rumor has it, was swept away by a flood decades ago... eerily, only ruins surround us now....

My companion playfully works it's hard, metal arm... and to our great delight, water cometh, from old wells of washed away worlds.

No Stop Til Dock

Train Bridge

Horses at Sunset

Sibby

Mothers

wonder

Prehistoric

A landmark near my home of Viroqua, Wisconsin USA.

100 Million years ago, this was all an undersea mountain range. As the waters gradually receded, the peaks were exposed and weathered. However, because this part of Southwest Wisconsin has never been glaciated during the three previous ice ages... we walk among the remnants of life aquatic. How grand.

[nice place to be when the next ice ages dawns!]

Bale & Parting Sky

Jesus

Be blessed

Tony

Tags: conscious, rite of passage, enlightenment, the journey, viroqua, macastat, spirit, soul

Water Desert

http://macastat.gaia.com — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 01:58:59 GMT

Water Desert

Mother Bald Eagle

Down where the Kickapoo River meets the Wisconsin... about golden hour, in front a few feet and to the right, she takes flight. I have to slow the vehicle to miss her. We turn around and first see her child who had been observing from a nearby perch. Of course the mother teacher is not far off... now she watches us.

having observed she takes to the hunt

Potter's Ridge Gold

in this humble adventure
abundance of child-like bliss
yet still
duplicity

selfishness
and
selflessness

Near Now Far

VFW

St Patrick's Day, 2007.

The host said, did you just get chills?

It was the end of another amazing day.

I am surrounded by synchronicity. There are convergence of place, moment, mind... they happen more frequently lately.

For example, today we hosted a successful Green Home Show, Celebrated Saint Patrick's, and ate organic greens at the tribal dinner table.

Then there was the party...

In a home I almost lived in.

While we raged against our souls
thumping harsh decrees
yet still to perfect beat
we five played organic grooves
(I played) a toy metal strainer
plastic pale
baby's bat
nearly bashed to slivers
and boar's head sultry
plucked and strum
futile attempt to fuze punk and jazz
healing with cascading badda baats and BANGs!
raging to release....

....something between
Korean Horror Noir
And exotic woman
in dim zenscapes
drunken
we broken men and our broken red bats, howled out the song

while at the same moment
each unaware of the other...
a baby nurses...

on the frozen front lawn
an almost bloody brawl
dissipated with kind words
to no sign at all.

We jammed rage
as babe was mothered
and fist then! disengage

When he upstairs, descibed hearing our caustic impov , smashed lap harps, and the like....then going out to break up the impending fight... as his baby ate... that's when i got chills.

Sentry of Water Desert

We stopped the vehicle near the mouth of sweeping curve to the West. The amber gravel road was boggy with melt. There above us, proud against the sun, the water desert's sentry...

be blessed

tony

Tags: conscious, rite of passage, enlightenment, the journey, viroqua, macastat, spirit, soul

Dead End Behind

http://macastat.gaia.com — Sun, 11 Mar 2007 19:04:43 GMT

Unplowed Sebion Road

lone tree lavender sky

Overlord

For Spring

Thorn River Dusk

Unusual Friends

Dead End Behind

revisited...

in my endless path
I pause at most sign
new vector I do plot
leaves most 'ends' behind

:::

this sign, I was reminded is not just a sign....

it was something else as well...

regardless... it is optimally viewed from behind
as you drive
away
onto the next river of souls
before you now

We drove away slowly...
it was surreal...
the size of the sign changes imperceptibly
while its proportion was always exactly the same
it was still
as we drove away
pausing... before departing
... clearly...
not a sign,
but a message.

'yes, there... (as it floats past the bend) you are back
on the river'

be blessed

tony

Things happened there, as the rays of light angled into sinuous currents

delineate

Rodent Art Effort

sky whence drift came

The Final Cut

Our Short Film: Unploughed Sebion Road

or download the full-res version

here

To suscribe to the broadcasts - open iTunes - under the "Advanced" pull-down menu - select "subscribe to podcasts" and type or paste - "http://viroquamainststation.com/rss.xml" into the box.

Be blessed,

tony

Tags: conscious, rite of passage, enlightenment, the journey, viroqua, macastat, spirit, soul

Dead bodies and cash.

http://macastat.gaia.com — Wed, 07 Feb 2007 06:43:14 GMT

Lilac in Wait

Planted amidst the faltering lights of Autumn
she slumbers her fragrant flesh
until the giving photons of Spring
bestow hope and perfume onto us all

Dead Bodies and Cash.

"The system now is nothing short of an abomination"... from the Newsweek Article..

As an emergency physician and entrepreneur working with other small business people, Mr. Wilkes summery of the payment side of American health care is right on.

Ask yourself how the most powerful country in the world tolerates 50 million uninsured and perhaps an equal number who are under-insured (which can be as horrific).

Dead bodies and cash.

Every time one of the endless pharmaceutical commercials airs... I cannot help but think about the millions that have been spent on these ads. How many due you see a day? How many people in your circle are struggling one way or another with medical bills?

It is almost absurd... As profits from other sectors level out (less and less new prescriptions are written for their brand name of drug)... the pharmaceutical industry has committed much of their hope on, the great deliverance of humanity, sleep agents.

So, while we pay billions for managed care, insurance, medical bills... just the pharmaceutical industry alone spends millions of dollars....and will make BILLIONS - just on sleep.

And the estimated cost of affordable, universal health care? - but a handful of the first billions the pharmaceutical major shareholders will make year after year.

There is profit being made at every level, in every back door of health care, in boardrooms across our abundant lands.... to a handful of executives who rape the system taking flamboyant, wasteful, and abhorrent bonuses for increasing profits (often at the expense of overall quality!). Yet more profit for the plutocracy and a further abomination.

Dead bodies and cash.

Moreover... how do many of us then 'pay' for these health care bills... borrowing with credit cards. And we all know how this industry has bought our government to pass laws favorable to their vile usury of the same families who are under-insured. Yet more profit for the plutocracy and a further abomination.

Dead bodies and cash.

Billions upon billions are being made in profit each and every year, year after year by the biomedical, medical equipment, pharmaceutical, insurance, and private health care industries. It is a free-for-all orgy of cash, power and influence... while one-third of our people struggle to pay for their basic heath care. Yet more profit for the plutocracy and a further abomination.

Dead bodies and surplus cash.

While examples from other countries with universal health care may leave much to be desired relative to wait times, rationing, etc... here in America, think about it.... despite our market driven system.... We still rank in the bottom quartile of life expectancy and infant mortality. There must be a better way..

It is time to pause and decide - today - I have had enough - we must collectively act as a people...

I propose a decentralized universal health care mandate, run by each state, funded by taxes on the for-profit health-care-related industry and tobacco, alcohol profits... with taxation of personal income as necessary, approximating what is deducted for health insurance now.

I further propose we rapidly pull America's soldiers out of Iraq... and turn the peace-keeping over the UN (like it or not they will have no choice but to intervene)... we then divert those funds to the healthcare mandate, and also a massive buy out of health care related personal debt.

Finally, we create national standards for Emergency Medical Services and Emergency Department care.... -we fund the much needed rehab of the floundering front door of acute access to health-care....

This universals access the favorable, basic health care inevitably spawns further entrepreneurship... what would happen if the small business owner had no fear of providing 'health benefits' for themselves and/or employees?!

We know state run insurance, is more efficient than for-profit (profit kind of hurts efficiency.... the profit itself is responsible for approximately 10-fold more overhead!). The heath profiteers can still ‘advance' medical technology while we as a people can bask in the glory of affordable world-class heath care for all Americans. Imagine that. We'll all, I suspect, sleep a little better or at least, won't care.

So one may debate the prudence of one plan over another, but I think from a logic standpoint a clever way does surely exist to provide basic, earnest, healing and compassionate health care to all Americans.

It is said, to defeat an enemy do not seek to kill them... an ill target is more damaging than a dead one.

Furthermore, most empires throughout history, particularly the most prodigious have used two things most notably to satisfy their selfish ends... 1) conquest and 2) human slave labor.

Let's halt (or at least limit, for Pete's sake!) our government's conquest, and...

let us become aware that perhaps either.... we are in one sense slaves (and with all due respect to the spirits of all persecuted humans everywhere) or are we the enemy?

I believe a sensibility of the people, will one day prevail over the folly of ego....

There is a saying from my ancestors, sustained with generations of storytelling... It's so simple, because in part the fable is meant for children... but are we really that different from then... or from them ? The saying is a charge that one evokes to members of the tribe (men and woman)... while young, and during moments of greatest turmoil... it is equally virile a charge... of self, to self....

you love me, and I will love you.

you trade with me, and I will trade with you

You be my brother, and I will be yours

Amish Hay Rake

We took a drive down Engine Creek Road, East of Yuba. it was golden hour.... Our last light filtered and waining... the air 40 below... our hearts inspired and radiant.

Upon Solving the World's Problems

Daughter and Mother

The solutions evoked,
and but hours before departures
Until Sprint then.

Harvest Remains

Last Sun on Broken Paine

She said... that was so-and-so's house... boy, I wonder what happened to her. Funny thing is... the house looked just like it does now, except the windows weren't broken.

Corn Stalk -30 Degrees

hooded blue

Lounge pad

Inversion

part of our plan for tribalization includes universal health care for all members of the 'tribe'

Do health-related expenses effect your life?

Be Blessed,

Tony

Tags: lessons, disappointment, poetry, bliss, purpose, sorrow

DeTribaliZation

http://macastat.gaia.com — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 10:04:10 GMT

DeTribaliZation

detribalization

Rose Hips

Nostradamus prescribed them during the Black Plague

{he advocated good sanitation too}

P R O T E C T

disembark

the loop train

space, time on railroad tankers

though filings of smoke

form our defiant souls.

& holding sweaty hands

on the back ladder wheels

loud engines tug

blare by gaits pulsing blood

damn they never head

halting empty air

and all at light speed.

:::

It occured to me... at our most honest inner cores, one of our greatest fears, perhaps arguably the root fear to those only masquerading as the root fear...

A fear of... well, more of a yearning than fear... a longing to...

b e l o n g

[the fear: Dying alone]

If I may propose for your review.... a new word, or at least a new connotation... that is, intent... for an existing word...

TribaliZation

from the dictionary

the "the union of opposing factions"

I say...

for all the masses that willingly submit the process by which those previously ensconced from their tribe undergo the sudden, unexpected revival, that is... a reunification of the individual with their tribe. ....or.... TribaliZation (n) or, more simply.... Purpose.

the defiant tribalized

Do I dare argue, yes!... we began this journey previously living amongst the other, or at least something like a lake of our ancestral souls.

And for us in Viroqua, of Southwest Wisconsin... A tribe removed from civilization, glacial tilling (inclusive of those to come!), with little proximity to plutocracy.... for twelve thousand passionate years.

And furthermore... the make up of these spindrills of super-stringy energy governed by divine geometry.... frequency if you will.... or as I prefer... song.... i will proclaim, this web of all ..that ...is permanent of us.... our soul and our song... and that of it's tribes.... This entity of entities cannot be understood without including the cool Mother Earth underfoot... and specifically... under your feet. ...there ....where you are brothers and sisters...

those previously taken from their tribe \rise and allow the sudden and unexpected revival.... Jesus.... reunify with your tribe! Joining with your 'tribe' (again) = tribalization = purpose connect with your tribe... ...free from the root of all fear dying alone for once we return to each other you certainly will not die alone. and more importantly you assure the longevity   of all that is permanent of you. ....what purpose could supercede this? Joining with your 'tribe' (again) = tribalization = purpose ::: Stone Array Hudson Lone Window She Cop Cars and Cabs Strangers on a Train Club Car East of the Cleveland Stop Shere and Square Train Perspective The Going Under out my train window I ponder our forward motion... There is a proverb...
   if you can't go over, than you
<i>must</i>
go under... I say, that is where the door will be to the one wisdom the knowing and the being
Blur wasteland vista Climax Bliss of Canine Suspicion Gaze Ahead lux Blaupunkt Vintage Amish Sleigh Washboard and Thimble a Player's lament snow trail cumulus abandoned guard post missed pear decent Arboreal Fellow We, Illuminated by Spirit, ahead upon strangely featureless byways the amber glow of Sparta, did backlite our arboreal fellow traveler within the breathing fibrils... a map of ancestors and self... After sitting momentarily, reminded of love and entropy, we proceeded East without destination, and still Illuminated by Spirit.


Are you with your tribe?

be blessed tony

Tags: flute, home, legend, myth, love, macasaet, macastat, meaning, of, life, native

long enough into long

http://macastat.gaia.com — Wed, 06 Dec 2006 05:33:47 GMT

edit: please check out my Grandmother, author Helen Weber's latest book: Holocaust Mosaic

Stare long enough into long dimensions of self
and I feel both trivial
and divine
Aware my flesh reorganizes to water
my soul
with effort becomes purpose
and water

Sit in Small Spaces and pause

and you will hear a familiar

song

Slideman in B&W

Slideman.... friend. Captured during a random meeting on Main Street in the small town we both live in.

Mikah is the best improvisational jazz trombonist I've ever heard.

Funny thing is, he's learning bass guitar, and wants to jam sometime, with my novice-self....

We both agree, it's the organic groove that emerges between players that is the reason we play at all.

She came to visit with me in the Public Market I own and manage. I was intently doing business with a new merchant (wine? for our new Hobbit Shoppe).... so she left, but returned later.

This time, I would wait... while she paused for an over-due massage.

Several kids ran around the market fountain nearby, as the masseuse kneaded. The woman with the strong hands asked if the children were interfering with her relaxation... She replied serenely ... 'all i can hear is the fountain.... and the sound of his shutter'

:::

We held a community Thanksgiving at the market...

Turkey Scalpel

Thanksgiving Vin

tall

Viroqua Public

Fencing

New Display Cases in The Market

A new energy sweeps into the town plaza... or fledgling pubic market... A ten foot vintage display case from Dahl Drug store... going out of business 'cause of Walgreens after 100 years.

At least one of their beautiful cases will live on at the town Public Market.

Evolution before our eyes.

We are actively adding small micro-merchant display areas in a grid we designed around the market hall

In a few weeks we launch...

the Hobbit Shoppe... a 'green' structure within the market landscape with an overflowing stock of merchandise.... some of the 'best of the market'

Night parade

Parades are for Kids

sueno

according to the young girl who rescued her, this little pero was maltreated. When my ma first got her she would cower at everything. Now, after re learning trust... she sleeps.

Apprehension with handgun

Gunbelt

One of my sisters many cats... she's in love with each one, as you can see.

This clever cat, the most highly evolved intellectually of the lot, can close cabinet doors behind him (as to ambush the other cats), among many other parlor tricks.

contract

(movie pre-production)

hooded

Magnificent 3rd annual Christmas Fair

and then the babe would not let him go.

with arms years from teenage, the small boy held the kitten as if just born, both but toddlers, both with unusually complex
character.... and grip.

Chicago by

Train

oh, glorious rails

Swampland Amtrak Adjacent

Eastbound at Speed

Chitown Drawbridge

We did some ice cream business

and I lingered with my Chitown peeps

each unaware of the others

as we held council

under ice crystals

the El

and

brown bottle

tears

Skylight

Horse Carries Apple

BMW

paparazzi

Cabbie Philosopher

The drunkards in the back seat of the cab... teased our cabbie a bit.. asking if the radio worked.

He turned on... jazz, and shrugged them off....

As I tried to get a shot, that I never did get, I heard him say, from the driver's seat, almost like he was talking to himself...

"Wait until the sun is two fingers high"...

I didn't comprehend at first... finally it clicked....

wait for the proper light!

Then I saw the old SLR in the seat between us.

Indeed, he was a philosopher photographer... and felt like a brother

digits

They were new ER nurses, I was a green ER attending....

Grips

Two of Viroqua

Webster Wine Bar, Webster Ave, Chicago...

I snapped this of Sibby at the bar with my friend's sister's husband's cousins

when I looked at the result

I saw Sibby

and I saw my friend Jason, who I haven't seen in about a year, sitting next to Sibby. Jason's also of Viroqua.

...

a few minutes after surprising Jason with my big smile...

our server tapped me on the shoulder

...she asked if i was from Viroqua...

turns out she rented part of our market to work out in last Summer, and her father lives on some land near town.

As the house light came on, I laughed with her... I said, I'm sure we'd cross paths again soon, somewhere perhaps on a sidestreet in Viroqua.

Bridge to Past Present

Frigid

Bridge Rivets

Drawtower

My brothers and sisters, left behind in the sometimes wasteland and the frequently cold, at least tonight
but each having their message
hand delivered...
they begin with
"gettin' on
that 2 o'cock
northbound
Tomah train"

but now miles away
I smile and say
I wonder what was on that card?

3am Division Street Pie

1880 in the Alley

I am a man in transition... like my environment, I am in an accelerated evolution.

I have been broken,
yet continue to heal...
the blood of my tribe
hast prescribed

ahead

light
through lenses
refracts and diverges
Into corners of my soul
Dissipated
and revealing
Focused
and healing

.... In a way, the images reflect my right of passage, as I make my way home, something we all one day must do....

I walk now as a child, on this first and endless grand adventure.

be blessed,

tony

Currently Reading
Holocaust Mosaic
By Helen Weber
see related

Tags: flute, home, legend, myth, love, macasaet, macastat, meaning, of, life, native

A little more good than bad

http://macastat.gaia.com — Thu, 23 Nov 2006 10:47:16 GMT

Today I was asked five times...

"So, how are you back here in Viroqua?"

I sincerely replied, five times, "A little more good than bad"

I remind myself, healing, for me, is not some monumental event in the evolution of a disease, but a daily practice.

I remind myself... the only thing that is real...

literally real, metaphysically real, philosophically real... is the microsecond of time that is now...

I mean

now,

no, wait,... now

the now as these words emerge and paint my CRT before me, the now as we read these words...

the now as a part of my soul [a long lost friend] says 'I will never amount to anything'

Our solitary and our infinite

The future is not real, and the past is not real

So our only choice is to embrace the real, the now, and live life as we did when we were children... upon the first, and endless grand adventure.

:::

In other matters we are starting this business... it's a holding company, sort of... well, 'Holding Company' is in the name because it sounds cool... Tribal Mind Holding Company.

Our motto... 1) consciousness: consider what effect your use of capital (ie the Earth, cause all capital ultimately comes from the Earth) will have on our "tribe's" substistance, 200 years from now.

2) Capital: how likely and to what degree will our ventures be profitable... consciousness is not sustainable without capital and capital is not sustainable without consciousness [thanks to Jerome M. for guidance on this]

3) As Joseph Campbell suggested.... follow your bliss as much as possible.

Love Art Money

Capital Consciousness Bliss

:::

My friend, as a lot of you know, makes ice cream on her 150 year old family farm (Sibby's Organic Ice Cream). This photo, which I've posted before, was taken during an exploration of her 'ol granary....

The wood seen out of focus, on the imposing floor below was turned into a frame for this photograph made by my Dad.

My sister Laurie, lol, then ended up buying it off the wall in the public market we operate.

....
The story of the photo-trail continues...

My sister, exactly one year my junior, has followed my path home to Viroqua.... one of the most fascinating home towns in America.

We both grew up here, leaving for our destiny... life somewhere, anywhere other than the depressing place our parents reside (sorry ma :) ).

Well, for my sister and me that was almost twenty years ago.

She came into town on Friday.... the truckers were overdue 'cause of weather, and to complicate matters we had a large event at the public market the next day.

My friend and I came over to her new home, back in Viroqua, to help arrange things. It would be challenge, and take days I thought.

Then, we decided to start with a photograph (^^ that very one, in fact )

Her generous assortment of felines were all quite traumatized by the whole moving thing... which added to the stress.

To our amazement, after beginning with a simple piece of art, the entire home almost magicall, came into being within a couple of hours.

It was so organic, the flow and the creation... and the ice cream too.

My Dad's old clinic... now relocated to a new building... where he practiced for 35 years. It's now like a post-apocalyptic ruin, eerie and haunted.

On this night we would attempt to secure a couple of office chairs for my sister's new pad.

To our dismay, upon our clandestine mission to his office... someone had already 'secured' them.
lol.

Perhaps my father's last time down the halls of his clinic. He started there after residency 35 years ago...

On the night my sister moves back to Viroqua... 1960's lamp from a local drug store that closed on diminutive hutch. My sister's new miniature media room. Odd proportions and eclectic pieces.

Feline Statuette

Learning To Fly

Conceived, born and raised in the Public Market

rosary Commissioned

Milky Weed

Release of Spawn

Milk Tendriles

Record Freight Station

truckload!

Sunset in Ferryville

Pompous

Light Through Unknown Past

House Reclaimed

Go Around

painting at Sandra Be's

Ellen's Ladder

This photograph, a gift will be placed right over this actual paint test wall placed there by the sagacious artist Ellen ... so when you move teh photograph, te same colored rectangle is underneath.

Three Engaging Horses

Ten Foot Case

from Dahl Drug store... out of business cause of Walgreens after 100 years. At least one of their beautiful cases will live on at the town Public Market.

I have a new system up and running to reqruit more vendors and more customers to the market... I think things are really finally starting to churn once again!

I filed my first Registered Trade Mark application, and my second.

Shaking

Surgeon's Hone

Senator Russ Feingold... visits the Public Market and raves about it!

... one of the few leaders who lives and governs by principle and justice... undeterred by the mass folly, the passive duplicity of so many in Washington... our last despicable stand... one of few patriot at hand.

Beer and Pie

Fresh Grape Pie.... hands down... best pie of my life. Thanks to Mary Beth and her vines (I used to be an EMT with Mary Beth back in the day)

Red Cat One

Air Metal Fire Stone Flesh

A frozen representation of the inner magma currents that sustain life on Earth (without volcanic activity the earth would have no water)

I purchased this from a new merchant in our public market. It's cut, polished stone, with a hand applied metal rim. $7.50!

:::

I'm going to ask this again, cause it's really been on my mind....

if money was not an issue... what would you do as your 'career' for at least the next ten years?

be blessed

be thankful

be mindful

tony

Tags: conscious, rite of passage, enlightenment, the journey

Face Adversity

http://macastat.gaia.com — Thu, 26 Oct 2006 03:07:13 GMT

My Sister is moving back to Viroqua...

this is a magnificent, unexpected event

Now the turmoil of moving.

face adversity

Partially Exposed

:::

photographs best viewed in full size (click the image)

Envy of Family

This embattled bible from the mid 19th century belongs to one of my best friends. Is was passed on to her after her Uncle Milt passed away. The day she opened it for the first time, was the 23rd of March... the same day, in 1847, it turns out, her great-great-great grandmother carefully penned a notation into these cherished scriptures.

Another evolving story in the fabric of energy that is the documentary about this most unusual town,

Viroqua the Movie

Peek into pages past

A Leaf Pressed into page 1073 about 160 years ago

:::

we have a name and a draft logo for the ice cream parlor

zOone

"ozone"

the organic zone

ice cream parlor, teahaus, juciebar, flatbread bakery,

and organic domain

in an old world public market

http://www.sibbysozone.com/

:::

First Entry in Guestroom Journal

:::

We were inspired by a $12.50 lamp I placed in my poorly lit kitchen... we then tore my sad cookspace apart. Ripped off the cabinet doors, emptied the counter-tops... and wow... a new kitchen, for $12.50

Sun Former Flower Shadow

Seedwell Blue

be blessed

tony

Tags: Collective, conscious, capitalism, localism

Narnia, perturbed

http://macastat.gaia.com — Tue, 17 Oct 2006 18:59:36 GMT

Updates from Narnia, perturbed

---

fidelity in all that you evoke

passion for principle during adversity

mindful intent guiding each action

love above all else

-t.macasaet

Purple Tower

Focus on the Fruit

-Saturday, we hosted the first "Tastes of the Coulee" food mini-festival at our public market in Viroqua. It was a smashing success and arguably the best single day we've had in the two and a half years the market has been open. A full house of area eateries and fantastic crowd of locals and visitors.

Organic & local.... Hot Pork & Fresh Garlic

macrobiotic Macrobars (made near Viroqua!). I live on these.

I made Bananas Foster in a wok. We poured the gooey mess over Sibby's Organic Ice Cream (scooped and dished out by Sibby, of course). The final step, an open flame of brandy was a hit, but nothing like the combination of flaming sugar and the best ice cream on the planet.

Bananas Foster

(Voodoo dust, cane, flesh of fruit, oils.... fire)

Suspicious

Cinderella

Music all day and into the night... with world-class jazz right in the market by Bill Neal, Tom Guillion and frickin' Hanah Jon Taylor!

Hanah Jon Taylor

Project Fourth Stream

Saturday late night was at my pad, the future Viroqua Guest House... it was ole revelry and minor excess... there was this second.... I saw of matrix of creative energy that has been surrounding me lately... I saw it self-aware. It was indescribable and intense.

Our music store, Greenman Music, is already jamming, and we aren't even officially open yet.

We are closer and closer to launching our organic ice cream parlor in the market, baring some unforeseen hurdle.

I sold my first photograph from the gallery in the market (not including you LeLo, lol).

A friend and myself search for Ginseng a couple of times. It was another adventure. I just know, the "little (old) man" is there, calling.... that he wants out of the dirt! of course, we filmed the experience for the documentary.

Speaking of which, filming on Viroqua is going well. Nearly each moment we document a particular thread of life.. another synchonistic one emerges in other seemingly unrelated segments. personally i take this as an almost inevitable sign the film will be outstanding... so long as we tell the story of these ethereal fibers.

I'm also working on this epic trilogy about God, love, death, passion, art, motherhood, birth, struggle, history, science, medicine, massacre, apocalypse, barbarians, 2012, and a new age of humanity.

Also writing a screenplay about that intense Xanga romance when I just began blogging (....a few of you from way back will recall)... coauthored by... who else?

:::

It was told to me... "You must do the thing you think your cannot" {-Eleanor Roosevelt}

I did.

:::

A close friend is ailing and my friend will not even acknowledge the pain, and I don't know what to do.

:::

Detroit

Greenman Music

Pleased with the Goods

Zenscape

Girl Farmer

Fungi City

Skull life

Delicate last

Wild Tobacco Pair

Round & Jagged

layers of autumn

Red Rain

fascination with planes

Pork Shoulder

Eyes on the Magicman

Walk where told to Stand

'56 Chevy

(My Dad's favorite car)

Alice in Wonderland

Sometimes EMTY

Rosemary & Pepper

why your crawlin'?

the hunt

Mother & daughter

layer

lazy time

Window Seat

I asked this a while back, but it's a question that always has an answer..

What is the thing

you think you cannot do (that you know you must do)?

by God, be Blessed

tony

Tags: conscious, rite of passage, enlightenment, the journey

An equally woeful and rhapsodic life

http://macastat.gaia.com — Tue, 03 Oct 2006 17:41:19 GMT

A couple of weeks ago I was ready to give up. Maybe you've been there... all my grand designs suddenly seemed like grand failures. I had depleted my reserves. I knew I could not handle another disappointment. And I knew a plateau of stability was off in the distance, out of view, and maybe, not even there at all.

Tonight, I have recovered from that place... I have learned (once again) suffering and doubt are unavoidable.... therefore why not simply embrace the pain of life... the challenges... absorb them and accept them, and realize without the difficulties we face, we could not reach complete our mission to leave a lasting positive effect.... for our periods of turmoil are necessary to stay humble, and without humility all our grand designs are but our own eulogies.

Life, I have accepted is equally woeful and rhapsodic... as humans we are blessed with the ability to love... But, with love comes the inexorable lugubrious day we must endue unbearable loss. If we purposely and thoughtfully allow our soul's light to always illuminate the space and time around us, that balance between grief and joy always tips a bit toward the joy. My life is both painful and celabatory... but it is a little more good than it is bad.

Do the thing that keeps our shared spirit smiling, and that which gives you the greatest bliss. Begin now, for only a few Summers remain,

dumb-ass!

I mean, duh!

[I'm speaking to myself, lol]

:::

This weekend I walked into a friend's music store, here in Viroqua... one of the first renaissance businesses in Viroqua. Sadly, it seemed, he was closing this beloved space for good... moving onto other things.

I had an idea.

My Public Market needs more anchor stores, and the music store needs some sort of transition.... My proposal: Let's move the music store into the public market, co-owned by me, downsize... and eventually find a new manager to staff it.

I told myself I would only do it (if he even went for it at all) IF it was undervalued, i could afford it, and the negotiations went effortlessly. 45 minutes later I was a partner in Greenman Music... now set up in the Viroqua Public Market, our new anchor for the market hall space!

:::

I assisted my hospital in purchasing a new state-of-the-art ultrasound for the Emergency Department. I will begin training the ER docs probably in November.

:::

We are working on a t-shirt line.

Organic cotton fabric from a friend with a plant in India... she empowers prostitutes and orphans via who work in the plant. Beautiful terse spiritual, universal phrases on the front, and dumbass! or Duh! on the back. Our intent is to be funny and wise.

:::

I think we're about a month from launching an organic ice cream parlor in the Market. Looks like it will have coffee roasting (we already the home of Kickapoo Coffee Roasters), Sibby's soft-serve ice cream/custard with local topping hand-stirred in the mix, fresh made waffle cones. ice cream made on site eventually. Confectionary, Organic Tea, coffee and fresh juices... birthday parties. Maybe pizza.

:::

Open mic jams start next week. my buddy Steve and I jammed tonight as a test run. The speakers he has are incredible. I can't recall my voice ever sounding better. I was somehow able to belt out "Night Moves" by Segar. We are going to hard wire the market stage for sound, recording, and media projection so the performers can play films, etc behind them, or use the screen to see cords/lyrics--- band karaoke!

We are launching "A Taste of the Coulee Region" festival at the market on Oct 14. We have a bout 20 local eateries and food producers signed up do far.

:::

Viroqua - Our documentary film is with me everywhere, lol, I mean, I am filming everything, cause it all seems so relevant. It's been a lot of fun. We're up to about 150 hours of high definition footage. Editing started tonight.

I am working on a screenplay of an epic trilogy, involving the documentary, God, and our souls.

:::

Angie, my former partner, is having contractions.

:::

I've found a way to affordably sell my photography. I've very excited about this... I can ship high quality prints up to 30x20-inch on matte board for about $65, 16x20 just $45, metal framed 30x20 $160 with free shipping. Anyone interested (I use paypay) simply email me at sales@macastat.com.

:::

New song I'm working on (still rough), [lyrics I could not have conjured without MAC]...

how do we allow love

to cause us such despair

we r fucking blessed

natural world so rare

most animals can't feel

the bliss of love after all

I mean croc eats it kid

- they have no love there

mother-babe becomes

hungry & instant soup

the sacred is simply soup

but true for some humans too.

Man,

that's a life devoid of love

CHORUS:

call it a revolt!

sung by tones in ur voice

come let's lay in bed

& go crazy by choice (mystic voice)

the words

they pass thru ur head.

that galactic melody

her long fingers strumming

all those lyrics all a running

into each corner of the room

you watch the contrast meltin'

yah in to her and you

make for super wall-paper glue!

Yah, call it a revolt!

sung by tones in ur voice

come let's lay in bed

& chant in mystic voice

see those trolls headless with frozen hair?

an other odd mythologies

endless birth of song extraordinaire

unavoidable products of biology

Yah, call it a revolt!

sung by tones in ur voice

come let's lay in bed

& chant in mystic voice

-copyrite 2006 tony macasaet

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PHOTOGRAPHY form this week

Accepting Sorrow

Face into Sun

Eve

House

Sledgehammer

looking for family treasures

Examine for loot

Red, White & Blue

Girls Kissing at Wedding

Cold Iron

Sibby's Ladder

In the old grainery

Tags: pain sorrow joy love life

Asleep Awake

http://macastat.gaia.com — Fri, 15 Sep 2006 17:52:08 GMT

you know me

you don't

we're tired

and we are awake

we drift

to waterfalls

we paddle

onto milkyways.

Tags: waking, love, knowing, romance, growth, healing

place I came closest to death

http://macastat.gaia.com — Tue, 29 Aug 2006 14:07:43 GMT

For a the year before starting medical school, I lived and worked as a paramedic on St. Croix, U.S. Virgins Islands. Now, you may be inclined think this was some year-long "ya man" Caribbean holiday.. indeed it was anything but. I was 21 years old, and living off the mainland for the first time... I felt alone, and out of my element.... and most dramatically, I was there exactly one year after hurricane Hugo's tyrannical eye passed directly over the sleepy Island. Every detail of daily living was still a challenge. It was also the place I came closest to death.

St. Croix was not an easy place to live, especially for an outsider. The Crusians had seen their haven churned into rubble and twisted palm trees. Moreover, during the painful recovery, they endured the brash mainlanders who worked rebuilding critical infrastructure. In some ways, I was one of these brash 'foreigners'.

After a few weeks of life on the Island I decided to attempt scuba diving certification. It was a natural endeavour to pursue, except for my embarrassing ineptitude at swimming, hell, my seeming adroitness at sinking. Really, place Tony Macasaet into a vessel of water, and I sink right to the bottom.

The first couple of classes were minimally painful... even a bit fun at times. The two others in the class were cordial State-siders, and the instructor seemed quite competent. We listened in a classroom and practiced with fin and goggles in an abandoned hotel pool. Next, we graduated to buoyancy control vests and then breathing apparatus and air tanks.

I could handle this, I thought. We still had the swimming test to complete however (I wondered why they didn't do this up-front!). I think it was 200 yards without masks or fins. I, someone who could barely doggy-paddle 20 feet, somehow had to swim 200 yards in a deep imposing old hotel pool. Needless-to-say, I didn't sleep well the night before we were to test.

Then, to my horror, as we arrived the next day the instructor beamed how it would be so much more fun testing... in the open water of the harbor!

I whimpered out some sort of contestment of the safety of this idea, but was quickly drown out by the glee of our instructor for us to swim in the ocean.

Next thing I knew I was perched on the edge of the rotten dock, swaying uneasily in the moderate breeze that spat into my expressionless face. She said, ok, no problem, I'll be swimming with you. It's not far at all (to her!)... see that small sailboat just ahead of us, she said... that's our goal. You can do it! Shit, it looked like an f/ing plastic toy to me, it was so far away.... And she dove in flawlessly toward the bobbing boat.

What?! ...not even one last moment to protest or at least discuss the wisdom of this feat? My two fellow students looked at me, shrugged and reluctantly dove in.

I stood there, and contemplated waiting. Then, the instructor, who had already reached to sailboat, beckoned me to jump!

Damn, I jumped. Shit.

In my modified-American-poodle, a stroke I had not yet perfected, I made my way toward the craft. Amazing how much larger waves are when you're in the water relative to standing above them. The wind had whipped up the bay and now the water towered over me with gargantuan one foot swells. I chocked down a tablespoon of water here in there, weighing me down one spoonful at a time... my muscles quickly depleted their front-line energy. I was already fatiguing, and as I gazed upward I was only a quarter of the way there!

Several times I recall thinking there was no way in hell I could make it. But eventually I reached the three quarters mark, and I knew I could reach the boat... though the thoughts of failure came to me the entire time. I realized how alone I was there... no real friends yet, no family, and a people who were more concerned, understandably, about finishing their home's roof, then the fate of some kid from the Midwest.

My hand touched the scaly fiberglass with monumental relief. I had done it. 200 yards. Not bad. This scuba thing would be a piece of cake afterall. Then, incredulously, the instructor and the other students impatiently dove back into the murderous black water. What did you think, dumb-ass? The boat is half way!

I saw myself at the bottom of the lagoon, eyes, bugging out, breathing in water, and the last horrific moments of life, panicked, desperate, dead.

Again, I contemplated. My body was utterly spent. And again, as she reached the dock, she waived me back. How could I make it, this time beginning 100% fatigued?!

I sat there alone, numb, angry I didn't try harder in 7th grade swimming class... then, the boat bobbed with more & more amplitude, and I felt a nasty wave of nausia entomb my innards. Well, that did it... I awkwardly slithered in.

The Modified-American-Poodle, turned into the Caribbean Rat Stroke. I moved along by what seemed like inches. Let's see 100 yards is 300 feet... that's twelve times 300.... Not good.

After about twenty feet of this, I came to a point of terminal depletion of all physical energy. I tread water for a second, then swam again. I kept doing this until i reached half way.

I was so tired I actually thought of just giving up. I was that emptied. With 150 feet still to go, I could not go on. I raised my arm for help. Unimaginably, she just waived back at me and motioned me forward!! She sincerely misunderstood my plea.

Herein was the crital problem.... It took more energy to reach, tread and waive than it did to swim. I was fucked.

Using a lot of energy just to keep my body from being where it wanted to be (at the bottom)... my mind strangely became clear. I suddenly knew... I had nothing left... I realized that if I now signaled for help, raising my arms again, I would not have enough to tread, and if I continued to tread, I would not have enough to swim.

There would be no rescue... I was far enough out, that even if she reached me rapidly, I would be pulseless at the bottom... where she would not find me.

I did the only thing i could.

The Caribbean Rat Stroke.

Well, clearly I survived this ordeal. I even went on to complete the training. In fact, during the open water dive, an elderly tourist on our dive boat, panicked in the 5 foot swells, ripped off her mask (the one thing you should never do), and was tore from us by a riptide... Within seconds she became a tiny speck here and there amidst the chop.... drifting farther and farther away.

This this same dive instructor without hesitation pierced into the sea like a dolphin, without anything but her swimsuit, closed on the woman like a cigarette boat and drug her back screaming, like nothing even happened.

We then gladly splashed in for our final dive together (all of us were extremely sea sick)... where she fricking fought off a five-foot barracuda at twenty feet with her dive knife.

...I suppose what brings you close to dying makes you appreciate our glorious submersions along the way.

Tags:

Gassed

http://macastat.gaia.com — Sun, 20 Aug 2006 18:41:42 GMT

tonight 'bout 1:56

half way in the sticks

had to rescue a friend

at the stop-sign stalled

just her & henna hauled

fifty-six eighty two

82 & 56

yah... half way in the sticks

says i ran outta oil

then bring me some gas

i done surpass

my car's capacity

goddam audacity

who other may I call?

who has auto

not yet of slumber

and cell

still holds their number

:::

Gassed

Tags:

Rite of passage

http://macastat.gaia.com — Mon, 14 Aug 2006 16:16:46 GMT

We have forsaken our rite of passage

so rarely does this exist

in days of hast and happy plastic

Roll on places long past

Pause, During your stroll through life, and ask yourself
am I on the right path
then have the courage
to ponder this question again,
at the next crossroads ahead

Stillness near 84

The Path's Diagonals

doubt

determined spirit overcomes

Conscious Coinage

Freedom to Ascend

Tags: enlightenment, conscious, the journey, rite of passage

bloodless revolution

http://macastat.gaia.com — Wed, 09 Aug 2006 00:15:31 GMT

Where better, than the impoverished pockets, the purity of Earth, the organic milieu that are these Ocooch Mountains... where better I ask... for a bloodless revolution of these ancient tribes to germinate, thrive... to survive!

Tags: capitalism, poverty, revolution, consciousness, coop, cooperative, viroqua, driftless

Sun Me

http://macastat.gaia.com — Fri, 04 Aug 2006 00:53:06 GMT

On the morosity of meaning

there always comes

misted sun

replies to unaverted eyes

each turn

cues to commence

now living thence

Tags: bliss, sun, flower, orchid

Localism & Collective conscious capitalism

http://macastat.gaia.com — Wed, 02 Aug 2006 09:34:48 GMT

alm

we aim to change the world...

with a plan for universal health care, education and ownership of a business we yearn to launch...

Collective conscious capitalism.... all based in localism

a five-fold ideology::

1) democratic... one person, one share, one vote

2) capital dependent

3) collectively owned [that is, we all own... the keeper of the capital... the coop of coops... we own our own bank]

4) Our venture operates favoring local trade... e.g. get eggs from the local egg lady... half the price, 1/1000 the fuel

5) Finally, we head the will of the collective consciousness

[centered around public markets, linked into a network, created in impoverished areas first]

.....organic, sustainable, and passionate about survival of the tribe.

It's about me

It's about you

It's about us

How can this fail?

It's like trying to kill the Borg individual... killing one or even a few is irrelevant and futile. We are a collective of humanity, an organic machine built to last, endure and overcome.

Tags: capitalism, conscious, Collective, localism