Monday, December 30, 2013

Bead-woven bracelet set for small-sized wrists, for sale; shipped with unique leather pouch.


#leather display (not included) Dec30_2013,

Peyote-stitched pink cuff on the right is composed of various, non-uniform glass #beads in size 11 and 13, with accent #bone and #garnet. Button/loop clasp.

The #Bronze glass cuff has accents of #gold and #dustyrose Both are small sized #bracelets; approx. 7.25 inches wrist and smaller. Lobster claw and metal ring, clasp.


#leather display (not included) Dec30_2013,

*These three bracelets are slightly larger than the first pair, above. Still about 7.50 inches, maximum (without allowing for working of clasp; still better fit at 7.25 inches wrist).

Leftmost cuff is glittery bead-soup; random beads of same approx. size. You can influence the temperature and colour of bead-soup patterns as they emerge by making constant decisions about sizing and colour parameters, as you choose single beads to fill the gaps in the "peyote-stitch" bead-weave, also known as the "gourd stitch" (external Wikipedia link). The centre piece is an alternating pattern of pastel turquoise and light purple, with ruby-like edging. The rightmost piece is made of larger gauge beads, but has the look of a tiny, stretched snakeskin.


One (1) unique, small-wrist-sized cuff set of five (5) beadwoven bracelets and unique leather gift pouch
will be shipped when payment clears my diligent bank, 2 weeks delivery predicted for shipping; typical check hold period.
These bracelets will last longer when the clasp mechanism is used properly, with a loose fit.

No returns.

If there is no buyer when the spring warms up, then the set will be broken up
and sold off as singles.

by Email. Use for arranging payment details.

Follow on twitter @bingorage.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

It's been a crummy Christmas in the Hinterlands of Ontario. First draft, December 22, 2013.

"I know that things have been better."

Everyone has this thought, in their arsenal/supply closet of primal worries.
It is probably one of the first "thoughts" to have occurred to the earliest humans,
as they stood on the edge of some great famine or drought, in Paleolithic Africa.
It strikes me that sentience begins with being a sort of witness to the individual "animal"
(biological human being) only treated and regarded as another troublesome sack of meat,
without an acknowledged conscious being, by fate and history.Without memory and a "personal
storyline", animals would not have access to those memories, a description of THEIR world,
and ability to compare and question the past knitting consciousness out of memory and language.

Terence McKenna had a theory, probably not the first human to have the thought, however,
that "language", composed of a set of rules and noise (non-physical entities), IDEAS, had
self-assembled into a super-organism that lived only in shared sentient minds. Language; built of
noise, motion and information; information accumulates and becomes more complex as an individual
sentient being grows older and accumulates mnore experience.. He thought that it was this virtual
parasitic organism has become a shadow biosphere, "running" like program on the shared noosphere
of our meat. It has evolved into a whole fauna and flora of benign symbiots, memeplexes exercising
basic control of out meat body. Culture is an operating system running on our meat
and integrated with the organism, like mitochondria in the primal cell. I believe that this is a
more appropriate metaphor, than the "software universe" of consciousness proposed in the "The Matrix universe".

We don't know when Language evolved the ability to jump from the shared noise and cognisance
of beasts, into the individual brains of the earlest people. Were we still more animal than primate
when sentience first bloomed amongst the mammals? Did dinosaurs ever achieve language. Were they infected
by Gaia as well?

I am sure that language and sentience have colonised other mammalian lineages, and people make strong
arguements for at least a second infection of a distant relative, the octopus; a mollusk. We share
much of the primal instructions for meat and oxygen use, but it is a good thing that those crazy octopi, squid
and cuttlefish only live a couple years, perhaps a little more for the largest specimens. A 90 year-
old cuttlefish would be a deadly enemy. A large herd of 40 year-old cuttlefish could take over England
in a year, unseen.


The I haven't been painting, really, for the last three weeks or so. My last bit of "balls-out"
studio-time was conducted at the deer camp cabin, with propane lantern and kerosene heater, a week
or two after deerhunt. It awas freezing. Sleeping in front of the kerosene heater was like outdoor camping;
I had to keep a window open to defend against carbon monoxide poisoning from the two burning devices.
Here are the pics from that night:

The first shot has the feel of the first night on the trapline or first-night on some distant, late season
hunt. It's a little festive, tinged with the amber light and good taste of generic Canadian whiskey, the
omnipresent, loud hiss of non-electric technology and deep pungence of good tobacco.

The canvas had previously been used in the #ZzorhAndBingoRage podcast; "Podcast until we get arrested".
SPOILER: We did not get arrested. We did, however, befoul ourselves.

Van Gogh. Flowers. Fucking Sunflowers. Really?
The heart wants what the heart wants, Eric.


I have been working on plenty of beadwork. I make deceptively "simple cuff, beaded bracelets" that have
evolved their form and function as I resolved clasping problems, thread inconsistency and structural problems
solved with reduction in media I no longer make my beadwork body on a loom, with a premade pattern on a special graph
paper. I make emergent groupings of beads' colour-fill on the growing scaffold of threads. No longfer do I lift
the sagging body of beads, cut from their roots and transplanted onto the leather bands; poisoned by electrical tape
residues, grinding up like tarpits at the feet of mountains.


Like I said; most of the new bracelets are woven peyote-stitched. My first woven freeform beading system, with built-in
thread infrastructure was brick stitch. It's OK for non-moving objects, but doesn't work for flexible jewelry; it
probably makes nice pendants.

The new, non-woven articles include stacked pin earrings and single strand strung bead bracelets, of various types and
sizes. Here are some pics of available pieces (as of Dec.22):

The Xmas sales and local tea circuit has been slow this year. My fellow Northwestern Ontario citizens aren't
spending money on the little baubles. The old holiday budget is underfunded.


Here are some of the surfaces; papier-mache and stretched canvases that have resolved, lately.

"The Big Guy" Large papier-mache mask.

"Crane, powwow dancer" Acrylic paint and beadwork on Canvas.
Approx. 5' tall, 32" wide and 4 inches deep, 1"x4" lumber boxframe.

"Giant Pike Hunt" Acrylic paint on stretched canvas.
Approximate 50 inches wide by 40 inches high.

I worked "Giant Pike Hunt" upside-down, recently, in the #BingoRageStudio.

"Sky Battle" Acrylic painting on canvas.
Approximately 6 feet wide and 22 inches wigh.

"Spoon Hei Matau"

Sunday, October 06, 2013

Norval collaboration

Hey xxxx; I've had a thought that won't go away. I want to do a collaboration with Norval Morrisseau.

As a matter of curiousity (or provocation), I sent the following email to some of the so-called players in the Morrisseau estate/authenticity pile.
To whom it may concern: Hello. My name is Eric C. Keast;

My family owns an original N.Morrisseau painting, that I would like to paint upon and create a new collaborative work, documenting and publishing the process, as well. The piece is an early black/red linework on kraft paper from Red Lake, Ontario, in the seventies.

I am writing to ask for info. on how to contact the Morrisseau family, as I would like to request their blessing in this endeavour.

:Eric C. Keast

I know that there is some arguement against painting on another artist's work, but there is also significant precedent. Regardless of the eventual outcome, I will document and publish/blog the process.


Untitled painting
Norval Morrisseau (1970's Red Lake, Ontario)

"A Plague Of Penguins"
Eric C. Keast

Thursday, September 26, 2013

The galaxy is imploding. That's okay, though.

[ The three canvases, below, have been worked-upon in the last month, at #BingoRageStudio in #FortFrances. "The Former PPP canvas", "Giant Pike Hunt", and "Sky Battle".)

There is a chance that I am oversimplifying the matter, but the galaxy is imploding. In a sort of fashion. But... That is OK, because it may keep the outermost stars of galaxies from being flung into the intergalactic medium, without having to give in to the ridiculousness of "dark matter".

Right. What?

This article concludes that the super-massive black holes at the heart of most (if not all) galaxies are not only eating physical matter (gas, dust, stars), but devouring the actual "fabric of space", spacetime. (Search youtube for "Brian Green(e?) fabric". Watch and get schooled.)

If spacetime is being devoured at the centre of most (or all) galaxies, is it flowing inwards, or just spawning new spacetime at a very local horizon near the black hole?

I think that the Gravity Probe B #framedragging experiment that helped confirm an Einsteinian prediction about the interaction of matter (the Earth) and the "fabric of space" proves that space can be pulled by matter/gravity and supports the idea of a "friction" between the spacetime and the matter of the galactic disk.
This may be very useful to help hold our position on the spinning galactic carousel,
held in place by a torrent of spacetime concentrated in the region of our galaxy and headed straight for our ravenous, supermassive black hole.

If we could see it rushing by, we might have to officially shit ourselves as a species.

Soon, we may see a huge chunk of real matter get eaten up by the SMBH. It will feed on a huge instellar cloud of gas.
There are still light echoes bouncing around the local cosmos, from the last time it ate this much real matter, some 50 years ago (from our perspective, but not in the visible spectrum).

This is an odd relief to me, on a purely cerebral level.

I do not like dark matter. I do not like it, Sam I Am. I would prefer that it need not exist, but I will accept a reduced role for it in the overall galactic schema; neutrinos exist, do we need any more dark matter? Maybe neutrinos feel the same "friction" with the torrent of spacetime that normal matter does and can be held onto by their galaxies by that mechanism rather than gravitationally. Not-so-dark matter.

If a galaxy can be thought of as the extended, turbulent accretion disc of matter and its prison of flowing concentrated spacetime draining into a supermassive black hole, then the need for dark matter to "gravitationally-anchor the outermost stars in fast spinning galaxies, is reduced/gone.

"To escape the gravitational clutches of our galaxy, a spaceship would need to zoom out of our solar system and hit 537 kilometres per second. For context, a rocket needs to roar off at just 11.2 kilometres per second to escape Earth's gravity..." (New Scientist:Stars' escape velocity shows how to exit the Milky Way. 23 September 2013 by Anil Ananthaswamy)

The outermost stars may not so much be "in the grip of the galaxy's complement of dark matter's gravity", but rather occupy "standing waves/lagrange point sorta spots" in the rushing current of spacetime, concentrating and flowing into and through the galaxy. This would affect if not help account for dark energy and the apparent expansion of the universe.

Just send me the Nobel when it's confirmed. Try to make it by the end of January.


motel arrest and phantom of the opera

I am wondering how it is that people always seem to get arrested at motels. Well, there and hotels and cheap apartments, mostly. But motels, alot.

I sit, type, listen to the25 year celebration of Phantom Of The Opera at Royal Albert Hall, smile stupidly at my complex little brain dioramas of sock puppetry and wait for the inevitability of being arrested in this room, eventually. That just doesn't feel like a healthy thought. Maybe I should write about something else.

The Phantom is played by Ramin Karimloo (Canadian). His voice is not the most unique instrument. It's real strength in his performance, superb, difficult phrasing married to a complex, fully communicated character. He inhabits the body of a rigid, introverted, auteur... genius trapped in a body of extraneous horror, lifelong social isolation and ordinary nerdiness, posing as the villainous ubermensch.


If I were a priest, then there would be an altar boy under the couch. If I were a politician, it would be a dead hooker in the washroom.
I'm a broke artist, however, and I am sitting in front of a live video camera, bright lights and an expensive microphone in this cheap motel room. I am feeling creative, but I have just discovered that
I have forgotten my sock puppets. That is what prompted the flash of guilt that triggered the morbid motel arrest daydreams that fueled this portion of the blogpost. Also brought to you by the letter, Omega.

What am I going to do without puppets? I could reasonably shoot a porno with this setup. Most of the combined #ZzorhnAndBingoRage library has been shot with less.

If I put a blast out in FB for volunteers, I wonder if I would get any hits.
I really could get myself arrested if I try.


The performance of Sierra Boggess, as Christine Daae is also impressive, having been honed with several productions and long association with the characters from “Love Never Dies” and #Phantom. Mostly singing with Karimloo; her character conveys deep empathy with "her angel" and inner conflict, choosing that putz Raoul over the Phantom.

Presumably, she quits singing and starts pumping out heirs, then. Putz is a Viscomte.

10 pm. No cops. How do you monetize porn when it's all free on the internet? Sell tickets to live shows at the arena? These folks at Royal Albert Hall really know how to clap. I bet they paid a grip.

Colm Wilkinson looks scared of that Australian, Warlow. Some onstage bear pheromone thing. I bet they're all jealous of that Joback kid. Owen-Jones look like he has either got girl scouts or pool boys under the gazebo.


There's a new gold rush going on in Maine. Baby eels to seed Asian aquaculture. The local Tribes are seeking to cash in on the exploitation, too.

They need to sit down and hammer out a shared quota for a sustainable harvest.


Wild, scattergun conspiracy-hollerin' , on tap. #AlexJones
Government disinformation voice, credulous patsy, boy crying "wolf" or "nutjob"?
He endangers us by desensitising us to the grim realities of the world; when truths are so easily buried in indiscriminate garbage.