More Bird Surprises

Surprise!  An owl and a chicken!

Katie's sleeping in Russia right now, she'll see these when she wakes up :-)

From Far Away Owl

This is Ben!  Katie is in Russia for a few weeks and I really miss her, as always.  I did this painting for her last night and I'll give it to her when she gets back.  She is my little owl, so that's part of the reason for the painting, but I also just like to draw birds on people's heads.

Pip-Beard Post: The Ballad of Burly Burt

Hi, this is Ben. Don't forget to sign up for our giveaway, I'm doing a painting for the winner!

I always feel like I should explain these posts since they are not necessarily usual. I like to write little poems sometimes, and as with most things I create, I can't actually explain where they come from or where I get ideas, so I don't really have an explanation for this poem except that I thought it would be funny to rhyme a bunch of words that sounded like "urt." The rest just came out.

Burly Burt had on a shirt
He'd learnt to be right curt
His arms were burnt
His moustache curlt
He slurred his dirty words

Four kooky cops came clambering
Caps clasped in crooked claws
To catch a crabby chambermaid
Who'd broken all their laws

Big Burly Burt was quite unnerved
He sawr it all proceed
They dragged her cursing, cane and cape
The strangest sight he'd seed

And Burly Burt got angry
He burst out from the door
He roared "have mercy on the girl,
you'll dash her on the floor."

But kooky cops, they cannot catch
Complaints called out this way
They crammed her crosswise in the car
Where she did kick, but stay

So Burly Burt tore off his shirt
And bared his brazen breast
With bellowing he bashed their brains
Then went inside, to rest

And Millicent, her name it was
Climbed up his quiet stair
And Burly Burt undid the door
To sit her on a chair

He looked into her face, so plain
And said, “Your eyes are two,
I'd like it if you married me.”
To which she said, “I do.”

And there they clung together
Dear Millicent and Burt
While lay the coppers conked outside
Their corpses cold, inert

As a counterpoint to the poem, here's a song I wrote for Katie last week:



Whenever I try to write songs they always end up slightly melancholy, even if I begin with a happy idea. I sometimes feel that I could take on a certain persona that would allow me to write a happy song, but I have trouble doing this in a way that feels true, so I generally just let the melody develop as it occurs and it usually turns out sounding a little sad or lonely. I guess I just have a touch of sadness in my soul. :-)

Weekly Pip-Beard Post: Realist/Absurdist Jokes

This is Ben -- these jokes are just an odd little concept I came up with at one point, I'm a big fan of absurdity and earnest lunacy.  If you have ideas for more, please share them!

What time was it when the elephant sat on the clock?
6:43 am, Greenwich Mean Time.

How many kings does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Three.

A book never written: "The Day the Chickens Moped" by Isaac McAdams.

What's the different between George W. Bush and a flower?
A flower has brightly-colored petals which help to attract bees.

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Robert.
Robert who?
Robert Michaelson-Brown.

Pip-Beard Story - "Thoughts about Happiness"

Hello, this is Ben. I'm going to start posting something once a week -- actually we're going to switch soon to a new system where we schedule what we post so it's easier to follow! We'll have a calendar for that up in the next week :-) "Pip-Beard Stories" will be a post every Saturday with little art projects and writing excerpts that I've done. I'll admit that these may often be oblique and strange.

Thoughts about Happiness

"My hope has returned! My heart pounds at the thought of standing up; at the thought of breathing and speaking. It's like a light has come bursting on in my chest, forcing me to spread my arms to the world. For a while, I thought that it never would. I wept and couldn't eat. I became angry easily and destroyed things I cared about to make myself feel worse. But a vision came to me. A stone building, surrounded by lawns and hedges. People stood outside of it and talked softly and thoughtfully. There was a small marketplace nearby. Some of the vendors sold bread and fruit, and others sold antiques, books and wine. The sea was not far away, just beyond the edge of the building I could see it on the horizon – the soft wind smelled faintly like salt and sand. I could hear music in the distance: a violin, a guitar and a stand-up bass, playing a quiet song that complemented the air and the pinkish edges of the sky. Life is verdant and bright -- I have been able to forget."

The sun set and the doomed man stared at the blank wall, thinking on death. It would be soon, he thought. There must be something before then, things they should remember after he passed.  He clicked out a list on his typewriter.

To think quietly.
To seek simplicity.
To love openly and without regret.
To speak clearly and with feeling.
To paint what came naturally to the hand.
To hear revealing melodies without distraction.
To smile and laugh at the patterns of mortality.
To see the sunrise with an uncluttered mind.

He remembered falling in love in a shady park, in the afternoon when the light was beginning to yellow -- they held hands. It was beyond sex, attraction. It was a feeling of momentary, absolute peace, solidified in time. She glowed in her white dress and he in his dark jacket. They gazed at each other through the grass and they could hear the waves rolling into the beach down below.

Think seek love speak, paint hear smile see.

They lowered the casket and their heads. And the sun rose again.

Pip-beard!

Hello, this is Benjamin, we've been absent lately because Katie got really sick!  She had a bad cough and has been in the hospital for the last week with bronchitis/pneumonia.  She is almost better though, thank goodness.  Neither of us can wait for her to be out, she gets really bored.  I got to go see her this weekend for a little while, I really miss her most of the time.  We haven't had much time to take pictures or go on adventures, but I wanted to share the origin of pip-beards and a short, goofy poem I wrote a long time ago.

He came to me in a dream.

"You look a little like someone I've seen before, but your beard is longer." I said.

"This is what's called a 'pip-beard,'" he exclaimed gleefully. "It's short on the left and then 'pips' to the right!"

And here's the poem: "Une Pomme de la Route"

I ate an apple yesterday,
It tasted slightly rotten.
And though I chewed it heartily,
Its texture I've forgotten.

I've been a long time without fruit --
So long I can't remember
The reasons people eat the things
That drop in mid-September.

I'd rather suck down mounds of meat,
Or maybe pies and candy.
I am a cook trés exemplaire!
With fat I am quite handy.

Do give me lots of naughty food.
Soft cakes and basted turkey
O! Give me custard laden tarts,
And mesquite-flavored jerky.

You can keep your organique,
Your light, un-filling menus,
And I'll keep mine, my tasty treats
And greasy smelling venues.

Pip-Beard Story: The Compulsive Moose

Under some sod, the moose had hidden five full packages of oreos.


Come nightfall, he would devour them all in secret.