Started layout for the triangles that will make up the hexagon panels. See video here of worksite Crazy exciting high energy scenario! 🙂

Big porcupine out back, at the edge of the lawn.

This is the bio entry my friend Sean Coney has put on the art for redemption website:

Art for Redemption
WILLIAM SEAN CONEY

“Postcard” – William Sean Coney
Regular price$75.00 USD
Currently incarcerated in Colorado.
 Description
 Artist’s bio
My painting began to convey what words could not. I remember a badly abused stainless steel table, it displayed six cups of syrupy, separated color and a handmade brush. A killer and a cat burglar consult me on the anatomy of Pikachu, the shot caller of the Pokemons. My pigments are stripped from M&M’s, so the experts take payment in soggy chocolate covered tailings. I became an artist that day. Pikachu was the most important piece I ever rendered. The critics were my life, my universe, my everything. Sofia was still in pull-ups, so Dylan, only 18 months older, spoke for them. He delivered a pragmatic request on the precipice of tears. The children are reaching for me. Their tiny obstructed hand prints lie side by side on a window slightly larger than an envelope on end. While looking back at them I was looking at life. My last microgram of strength is summoned to exemplify composure, and accept the commission. I learned that day how art could say more than words, especially to preschoolers. My critics also schooled me on the finer points of mixing my time and treasure with color and love to make it all worth more than I realize. I try to keep the same formula in my composition today. I have recently begun juxtaposing juvenile animals with life’s lessons. I hope to compile a children’s book that reveals what I’ve learned from my critics and my mistakes. The work I created for the “Redemption Art” show is about intergenerational institutionalism as an affront to nature. Thank you for listening to what I paint..

May first marked by riding along with friend on his migration from Portland to Hermit Island — see graphic. We cast off from the old port slip around 11am and motor sailed past Diamond Island — a place to which I’ve taken a water taxi for a water treatment system job — then between Peak’s and Cushing Islands to the “open” ocean.
The red arrow indicates the end of shoal of low rocks called: “Junk of Pork.”. The wind was also from that direction. We turned there and sailed east-north-east on a starboard tack; past halfway rock lighthouse and to off-shore of Hermit Island. There we turned to a down wind and sailed in to a good place to take in the sails and motor to the inside of the island.
It was a good experience for getting a different perspective of the land and scope of everything in general. Although we made good headway it is a slower pace than motorized life on land.

Thursday April 14th 2022
So this week I have finally spent nights in the shelter pictured in the last entry. I’m there now typing this to the thrum of April showers. There is a platform (8’x12’) at the back 2/5ths of the shelter, on a scaffolding about 4’ off the ground. I’m sitting in the back seat from my car, as an ersatz sofa, typing in the mostly dark. The keyboard is unlit and I’m using a headlamp to see it — but with dying batteries have just turned it off and am really pulling in my darkness tactility. [band, album, or song name: darkness tactility?] I am also running a propane lantern at my feet, but for heat more than light and I’m not elevating that hotbox off of the floor. [full disclosure: I’m tipping the screen down to illuminate the keys when I cannot find something ;-)]
The process has been to add something each night. e.g. first night just test out matress, blankets, pillows etc. and haul ass back to the house at 5:30am to get ready for work. Second (colder) night run the propane heater from 4-5 to take chill off, before getting up. Third night oatmeal in the morning. Tomorrow morning is oatmeal AND coffee. Yeay. OK enough darkness tactility typing. More this weekend…with pictures.

Saturday April 30th 2022
The romantic idea of typing at the shelter [Near Reach] is a fail. I left the laptop out there one day, in it’s shoulder bag, and realized it was just plain clumsy. Even with comfortable seats from the back of the car and a comfortable bed with a headboard typing in the cold with dim light is fruitless. It’s a great crash pad and o.k. to watch something on a tablet…that’s all. Hopefully the floor area will become a construction production area.
Peace, Jason

Link to the 82MB video of Near Reach shelter last November

If I can reliably blog here from phone I will do so. Frequent short posts from the phone and longer posts from the workstation.

Let’s try a picture.

Well o.k. I’ll upload some photos of Near Reach and the pending entry on the laptop; which is out there at Near Reach. I’ve spent the past 5 nights out there and am migrating stuff out there from the house. If I catch drinkable rain water I’ll reside there through September.

TTFN, Justin Free ?

Since no one clicks links to look at a photo gallery I’ll post one inline. This is it though! Y’all can click on a link to see a photo gallery (which admittedly needs updating, but what for if no one is seeing it?).

Peace out, Justin Free

Open letter to Vlad Putin:

Vlad,
What the fuck do you want? You tyrannical shitbags always get legacy crazy in old age…like you’re fucking Achilles and want to be remembered for a thousand years. Fuck you. You’re a Joe Stalin knockoff trying to match his body count [20 million!] in your final alzheimer years.
So, if you want to keep people guessing…act unpredictable. Everything about you is specious. I picture you as a squirrel with its head on backwards that knows everything because no other being can share it’s perspective. Let the guessing begin of what goes on in a backwards squirrel head: you’re just a simple sadistic prick (like your god/king Stalin), and all you want is to impose suffering. Oh, but you have this legacy kink whereby spreading suffering and leaving a bigger death footprint than Stalin has become your addled obsession.
It has become unfashionable to starve, maim, and kill your own citizens, so you take the Stalin 2 show on the road: Georgia in 2008, Crimea 2016, now and always Ukraine. Control, dominate, impose suffering…all the Soviet hits, that played from Lenin to Brezhnev. So, let’s drill down a layer.
All this three generation old Soviet nostalgia that you want to impose – on oh, let’s say one third minimum; if not the whole world! – makes you a reincarnated, tyrant, fuck stick. Caligula, Genghis Khan, Saudi oil sheikh…oh you rotten, jealous bitch.
How to talk sense to such a pathetic, twisted fuck as you? Like trying to talk chastity to a child molester…forget it! This can only suffice as an evaluation: subject is incorrigible whore-beast; a demon of sadistic zealotry; willfully ignorant of norms, mores, and logic; addicted to deception and perversion of norms, mores, and logic to the exclusion of any other interaction.

—-End of attempted communication.

—-This portion is to U.S. DoD/military.
How to deal with anachronistic, Caligula imposters: take what they care about…what makes them what they are. In this case territory and personal (stashed) assets.
Here’s the solution: take the russian far east (region across from Alaska) and Sakhalin Island. Run Sakhalin as a joint territory with the Chinese and Japanese – they need some forced bonding and it establishes a north pacific (ASEAN) style alliance; a co-operative trading alliance; and security/stability of that maritime region.
This twisted, venomous, bitch nigger of a tyrant is narrowly obsessed: in this case with dominating intermediate, buffer spaces between mother rooskiya and European/Mediterranean countries. The far east is already foreign to rooskiya (and the tyrant mind). Easy to use exactly the same words of the taking of Crimea to say: the eastern region of rooskiya is to be returned to the native peoples…it was never culturally russian and now returns to it’s native culture…liberated by the U.S., in co-operation with the Chinese and Japanese – true racially and culturally interested countries.
I am available to coordinate the management of the joint territory. Please give me 48 hours notice to deploy.
Sincerely,
Justin Free

P.S. – Too busy packing to upload cat pictures. Peace out.