...on " The Freakshow, and it's passing thru the Valley of the showdow of death....part 1," The first night in town..."

The gig had been booked for months. Death smiled a rare smile.
" Home..." thought Death.

...6 days in a 1960 Volkswagen camper.
Death shared her
with Jesus,
Dave,
Jon Kline,
Venus " Who Caused all this really, "
and Domingo, the voice of reason.

A minor prophet. A magic person

and dear friend of Jesus...
They traveled that rural route

many a time.
Death drove. He trusted nobody
with " My Baby ," he called her," My Baby ," lovingly.
Thus Death wrote the tune...
" First we going to "The Thing", way out there on hyway 10.
...Then to the Dinosaur on hyway 15 ta ol' San Diego....
Then WE ARE stopping at Stucky's for nut logs....."
The gang sighed collectively.
".... ahhhhh, the road to The Valley of the Shadow of Death
is gonna be a long one, my friends, I suggest we practice
the fine art of saying " thank you " instead of " no ,"

said Domingo,
always the calm
before the storm...

Paralyzed at a Stucky's, somewhere in Banning, Death returns.
..." Look !!!!!!! Shells with spring google eyes...!!!! Way out here in the desert...
Amazing to think this all.....", spreading his boney arms to take in "all "
"...Used to be an ocean....!" sceeeched Death, joyfully.

They were somewhere between Banning and Barstow,
Hell, in it's purest form...
"...Motherfuckin' hot..." said Venus "who caused all of this really ."
" Hey Dave, pass me that big green sweater, will ya ?.
It's a little chilly, no ? ..." said Death,
to nobody in particular....
...and it was the dog, Neng who became aware of the noise as the
miles passed, but said nothing. That THUNK Thunk THUNK sound,
he'd heard it before.
" ...Sucked a valve...so we did.
Hope I got my fone...." he thought.

"... Not my job to be more intelligent
than my owner.
Aint' sayin' nothin', so I'm not. " Said Neng.
Breaking the silence, they talked quietly...
Jesus agreed, but Dave an
Venus " who caused of all this really... "
and John Kline
were divided. As usual.

Nothing was said.
And all slept, except Domingo...
who read Cervantes,
between the the passing
hiway lites.
It would be a long night
driving thru the deserts of California and Arizona...

Domingo, comfortable anywhere there were
friends and dogs
pulled his hat down over
his eyes
looking thru the slit of failing southwest lite
reflecting off the long rectangular mirror
of the narrow closet door that banged open now
and then
until he closed his eyes
and dreamed.....
...and Death drove on...



Be well todo mundo
J.Level
©spl2007 " The Freakshow and it's passing thru the Valley of The Shadow of Death " Chapters 1-52
foto: Fresno city hall

...Domingo, things are gettin' weird

" Where the fuck are we !!! ??? "
"... Sacramento, 1985, I think, sir. "
"... Drive us over to the O'leary's...
take a left and park. I gotta speak with
Marco....he started this all, ya know...?
" Started all this, " what " sir...? "
" This road to art and word, and their
combinations
that entered different minds
on all levels
at different times
and that the people look and the people
talk...and good or bad the art has it's desired
effect. I fear no evil Domingo,
my dear old friend...."
" Should I roll us up a few, sir ?... "
" Roll us up more than a few, Brother
probably gonna be here awhile..."
" Are things getting " weird " again , sir ? "
" Always been weird , Domingo...
always been weird..."


Be well todo mundo,

J. Level

...on, " The brothers "

04.07.08
Seawa
eeuu

...the island was quiet, Domingo.
and finally commin' back to the real world,
on the otherside of the water...
the jets are still going right over the house...
people still movin'...
people talkin'...
the island was quite,
Domingo my dear old friend.

We, the brother's ate well
tennis on the big screen
smoke in the bowl...
and enough Trader Joe's wine
enough...there were words
devils lawyers
little last second defeats
and big amazon wins
the island was more quiet, Domingo.

Goin' out to the island to live
I am urban
but I like it out there in middle earth
think I'll get a dog.
think I'll start a new painting...
I think maybe I'm feelin' change...
weird feeeling Domingo
a weird feeling indeed.

be well todo mundo,

J. Level

foto©2008spl " The brothers at B.L.'s"

730 beers

30.12.2007
Uvieu,España


Long windy roads
lots of bumps an
big deep holes
describes this past year...
smoked 7300 smokes,
and at least 624
grams of good hash
drank 730 beers
sat in the bar of Javi
at least 365 hours
really, a long weird year.

This past year I have seen
and signed many documents
court documents
jail documents,
marriage documents,
signed many checks
many checks....
many many checks...

This past year
I applied for political asylum
and was rejected.
Applied for nationality
and was denied.
sat 816 hours in a concentration camp
in the sunny Costa del Sol,
thats Malaga folks
and not the Malaga I rememberd...
I was there in 2000, painted 13 murals
and sold many paintings...
Met Compay Segundo, in Malaga 2000
a different Malaga, so it was.

There were many heros this past year
The girl, my lawyers, and a fat cop
who pocketed my passport,
thus saving my ass from a certin
doom and an ulgy scene
in some airport in America
There was my father
and the team in california
pullin strings
pullin off miricles...
My heros of 2007.

Been a hell of a year for all....
a freakshow of a year.
There have been good things,
from a God with a very
dark sence of humor
and a bag filled with
tricks and traps...

My brothers in the game,
after a very very long absence
It is the joy of my existence,
My brother JGL.

I am blessed.
I am seemingly
more immortal than I thought...

Then theres you, Domingo...
my dear old friend...
To next year in España
a weird and beautiful place.
We will be more famous
than we already are...wait.

I hope next year makes some sense
less traps
less ignorance
less impunity...
Come on people
to alittle love and alittle
fuckin' communication
for God's sake
we are all adults here no ?

Next year I will grow up...
maybe.


Be well todo mundo,

J.Level

" Back from Cuenca..."

02.12.07
Uvieu,España

" Vanished from the face of the earth..."
These were the last words spoken about Slamo.
Nobody had seen him in months...
" Last time I saw him we was a drinkin'
and the brother was mumblin' something
about Seattle, and some guy named Jess..
Nope, don't know more... hey, you gotta buck
for a veteran, buddy.....? "

It was true. Slamo caught a Iberica flight to
Seattle. Spent all the money the first day
and found refuge at the " Elephant ", a notorious
flop house in The First Hill district...
Jerry was there and Brad , wavin' a big gun around...
There would be many freaks and freakshows, truths and
near truths crossing and crossing again
an again in and outta
his life..." Hey, you know a guy named Jess...? " he asked...
" You know a guy named Jess... about this high... Gray hair
and a gotee like Velazquez...? ", he asks of everyone he'd meet.
"...I'm lookin' for a guy named Jess.. Paints bad clowns and bull fighters.",
he'd asked everyone he'd met.
Slamo was way outta his territory....
"... Big mean ulgy town..." sighed Slamo,
zippin' himself into the sleeping bag
under the I-5 freeway overpass.
Seattle began to rain ..." Of course..." and
" Manaña mas y mejor, Slam old boy "....said Slamo, to
himself.

Slamo dreams.....

Hanging out in Campo San Fransisco with Juanjo, Zazir The Great, a mime, and the russian oprea singer. It had been a good day for all, they shared 10 boxes of wine between them..." Remember when....? " and " Well, we usta....." Slamo, drank and thought about the little house in the Valley, " ...Long time ago..." he thought. Then the russian began to talk, a rare occasion... he told stories of his mothers borscht " steaming hot with a big drop of well soured cream..." Humm..." Hummed Zazir The Great ..The russian told of his fathers machine shop, and the bribes to the police,and the last day of the year celebrating with the guys whom worked for him... low pay harshly cold, and little future... He said he was " blessed to be here, and in the company of such fine and generous friends..."
Zazir The Great looked over to Juanjo, " You speak russian ? " he asked, " what ? me? russian ? huh, his eyes are speaking english and spanish and french...just read the eyes of the brother, brother, it's all there...". Slamo, he told the story of the flight to Spain...then the flight to Vietnam, to Paris to Helsinki and beyond, until the sun went down and they gathered their stuff, moving on to where they would drink and sleep and refuel their hope for tommorow " Awhicha way ya going there Slam ?... ", asked the russian opera singer...
" ...West, I think..Yuri, West...." said Slamo.

Tommorow Slamo would go back to the Elephant to wash some clothes,
he'd met a chick , that lived there
that said she knew where Jess could be found,
Slamo took it well ,
with hope , but not much....
" Stop in if your ever in Seattle, Slam.... " Jess had said...
The fones number had been changed long ago...

The next morning Seattle continued to rain
Slamo packed up the hill towards the Elephant
Jean was there, cooking fried rice and mushrooms,
and smiling...

Slamo, wringin' out some soxs
looks out the window towards Lake Washington
and the house of Bill Gates, up there aways....
" Huh ! Why don't I just call Bill ..Duh....wheres my god damned fone ?
rinnnnng-rinnnnng-rinnnnng...
" Hello Bill ?, Slamo here.....yeah... yeah.. I'm in Seattle....great ,yeah, great
Yeah huh huh... looking at your house as we speak...yeah
9:00's better for me... Ok ... yeah..... see you there... Anything to smoke ?
..any thing better ? Jo.....
Slamo smiled, I think I'll wear the BIG pants.... ! NO !
I'm gonna wear the suit...

end of Part 1

be well todo mundo,
J.Level
foto&story:©spl2007

...On the hill, waiting...

10.11.07
Uvieu,España

...I'm standing on this hill
and theres nothing for miles and miles
brought these paintings along
and the Led Zeppelin tapes...
"!!!! Compra algo Tio !!!!!! "
I yelled into the wind...
now, I'm waitin'
for them to get back to me
Surely it'll be any second now....
humm hummmm huummmm......

Waiting on a hill in the
middle of nowhere.
Wish you were here
Domingo, my dear old friend...

Try and be well todo mundo.
J.Level

foto: " Compra algo tio !!!" 60x17 cm ink/watercolour/ paper
©spl2007

On..." trailers, cardboard boxes and the winds of the past..."

09.11.07
Uvieu,España

Hot dry wind a blowin', Domingo,
my dear old friend.
blowin' and blowin
things around
unexpectedly
rearanging the importance
renumbering the Lists...

" The Lists...?"
" The Master Plan...."
" OOOOH, The Master Plan..."

My list was pretty basic;

1) Survive
2) Paint
3) Paint and talk about the paintings
4) Obtain the ability to transform thoughts into words,and words into art accessible to everyone
5) Sell the art, write the books and plays, make the movies, install myself forever
6) Find The Girl, and and live happily ever after.

That wind has added and taken away
from the lists Domingo, my dear old friend.
Added another to my world
one that can help me remember
one that can help me forget...

Ya know...?
I'm just gonna sit here,
And why don't you just sit yerself down
and roll us up another Domingo,
and I'll tell you a story about a trailer
that usta sit right over there....and another
about Love and miricles and a Girl that looks
like a movie star....

...It's 1963 or so, I'm a foot and a half tall
sittin' in a cardboard box with Eddie
next to the trailer, was probably hot like africa hot
My Father and his friends are
buildin' Claude's house out there
in Yucca Valley
a long time ago.....

Be well todo mundo.
J.Level

©spl2007
Foto; B.N.

9 years.....

19.10.07
Uvieu,España

9 years ago, my hair was black.
Washed up onto the beach about 4:00pm.
Washed up in Madrid.
We smoked in Puerto Del Sol...
" Now what ?"....I asked strange Venus
" To the Hotel Europa !!! of course... " sword drawn
Venus leds the way...

9 years later, my hair is gray.
Venus is long gone, and a 1000 paintings
have changed hands how many times over.....

I've The Girl
the little white dog
that huge roll of surreal art
and abouta millon words written on this
Weird and beautiful country... In which I remain
hopeful
respectfully indignant / content / fucked,
but content...
" Been a long hard ride, Domingo, so it has..."

I stood last July in the scorching heat
of Madrid's smoggy mid day rush
acrossed from the old Hotel Europa..
Kilometer 0
"... So, Brother..."
I said to myself,
" ...Been a freakshow gettin to this point,
back to the beginning again..."
I
said
to
myself...

The battle for position and knowledge
and the cultures constantly changing currents
The ripp tides and sharks have this poor artist
alittle worn
alittle tired
but only alittle tired
alittle worn....huh, thats nothin'.

"... Que tal oh..? "
"...Bien.Bien. Jodido, pero contento. Como todos..."
( Good.Good...fucked, but content, like everybody...)

Will go to "The Paloma" today and see Pepe,
the first to pour this artist a beer
in the rainy city
long ago.
He will ask, as always,
" How long ? "
" 9 years... " i'll say
...and Pepe will pour a beer we'll sit and talk
of fights and floods
art and shoes
mean girls and dogs
food and Juan Falcon
and España...
and of what a weird and beautiful place
we washed up onto long,
long ago...


I'm going back to bed.
It's 6:47 am.
The Girls there,
and it's always warm
and safe
Safe and warm....

Blessed ? You bet.
The Freakshow continues...

Be well todo Mundo...
J.Level
( Jlevel77@yahoo.com)
Painting:" Manoline Sculpture" 56x46cm oil/palaster/canvas
photo ©spl2007

NOTE: OK," T.I.D" of Portland, Maine. The stories
about Death and Jesus will continue. They will be
"happier and more socially relevant..." Yes, I painted that mural
in Malaga, and thanks for the foto. No. I've no plans to return
to America ever. You are a minor God... J.Level

There are worse things....

17.10.07
Uvieu, España

Rainin' and far from the house
I find myself on a bus...
" There are worse things Brother..."
Not thinkin' in what the clouds mean
nor why their there
Their there.

Things rust.
Everything is based on the intrest
and / or
the ability of others to see the value
in the rusty thing.
I see art
a table base
lampshade
Coat rack...

Some just see rusty junk
and throw the shit out.

That Sax,
those brushes
them words ...
those poems
them films of dreams ...

Roll us uppa' 'nother
Domingo.... Things could be worse.
Look....
but don't look to hard. You are loved,
and respected by many more
than yer thinkin'
so you is....

Be well todo mundo...
J. Level
(Jlevel77@yahoo.com)

...And now what???

26.08.07
Uvieu,España

"....So,now what?" he asked.
" Don't know. Pretty much outta material
have smoked and drank all there is? Or is it was?..." i asked
" Was..." he said.
" Was... " I said.
" Something will happen, always does...." he assured.
" Yeah." i said
" Bored...? " he asked.
" You bet I am...you bet.

Be well todo mundo.... send me something.
J.Level
(jlevel77@yahoo.com)
foto: " Manoline de Somiedo no.7"
90x40cm oil/canvas

"...HEY !!! COMPRA ALGO WOODY, POR DIOS !!!!!! "

12.08.07
Uvieu,España

The fourth time i'm snubbed by Woody Allen
the press screamed WOODY
WOODY
WOODY
" Woody ! tio ! compra algo !!!!!"
" Woody, I've paintings for the movie..."
nothing
nothing
the security guys were
very nice
and well Woody did'nt buy anything
Marco brought up Chuck
Ground Chuck
I Thought of him
A Punk/orignal/weird/ possibly
brain damaged
or near prophet Ground Chuck
Should be a movie Ground Chuck
or social study....
i'm afraid to ask
" hey whats up
with Ground Chuck????
afraid he rich sucessful and taller,
so i am...
" You'll be tall one day Jess..."
thanks man...
The girls asleep it's sunday
in the rainy city. Snow and cold
but the gitanos will set up
in the campillen,Domingo,
and i will find a Ground Chuck doll
to add to the collection of
dashboard saints....
You should be here marco
bring your ski's
it's summer in the Mall
thats oviedo
and thats España
8 years and 321 days later...
The Freakshow continues....

Be well todo mundo...
J.Level
(jlevel77@yahoo.com)

painting:©jpl2007
" Compra algo Woody, por dios coñjo" 30x40cm oil