The Ballad of Emerson Skreech



The Ballad of Emerson Skreech


Soliloquy for the Prodigal Daughter



A Bit of Backstory


Dream Lover Fantasy aborted. Bitch Mode in process. Engage. I felt like I was sitting in a cold damp mist after exiting a relaxing soothing sauna. Breath.

It took all the mental and emotional effort that Emerson Skreech could muster to form sentences that made sense.  Word Selection. Operate.  Emerson had to go through a mental flight plan each time he uttered a sound as he struggled with ill-fitting dentures as well as a pronounced lisp.

Breath. In. Out. In the midst of getting my scrambled thoughts into coherent words She made that serpentine motion with her tongue removing the salt from the edge of her drinking glass in one fell swoop.





Spoke by Hamlet, Hamlet Act 5 Scene 1:
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.




JoyBaieda Ruein  ~~  The Making of An End


She is the Luxurious Fox to my slimy hound dog.  Joy was a slow slinky melody filled with mesmerizing syncopation.  When I Emerson Skreech discovered her all she was just another one of the irresistible creatures raising their skirts for the latest repeat customers.  Now she was a raging inferno. Impossible to contain but with each breath of oxygen eager to expand.  Myths and Legends corrupted my mind.  Emerson Skreech consumed by lust and immoral pleasures believe the best and received the worst. Bewitched by a Bronzed highlighted entrancing beauty.  At once I understood how Adama felt when God broke his companion rib.  Dancing with her though a delicate pleasure my internal cognition was slowly being extinguished.

What was sacred now becomes hideous.   Exploration and entry into her sacred Temple was a high price that cost into a then unknown future.  My engorged purple red pole dug the grave and planted the Cenotaph that singled my burial.  My shaft spit seed into a poisonous chamber.  JoyBaieda was an Orchard in Bloom and I a thirsty Gardener | Gate Keeper.  A Horticulturist of infected spores.  Her body ~~ my tomb.  Scorched, I sank into the depths of vast ocean seas coming to rest inside an abandoned house where everything was left intact. Mesmerized I expected forgetful innkeepers to return, the taps to flow, songs sung and dancers spinning, twirling and gyrating while thick beer steins are raised in toast to safe passageways.


A Punctured Romance from the start.  I’ve come to the Potter’s Field Sanatorium to bury my bones.  We were like rambling gnarling twisting trees marveling at volcanic Lava Monoliths arising from a barren windblown sandy desert.  We stripped the bark from each others branches.


A Luminous Aura Borealis burst into exploded galaxies.



To Be Continued…………………………………………………….
























Preparation for the Union Art Show 


Preparation for the Union Art Show


Last year 2017 I participated in the Employee Art Show and I was also able have one of my Photography Collages on display at the Daily Press a Coffee shop across the street from my house.

This year the Museum Union Employees are having their own Art Show that is separate from the museum. I’m a proud Union member of DC 37 Local 1503. The Union Art Show will take place in March. I have already registered and completed my Mixed Media Photo Collage.

After working for the museum for ten Yes 10 years I’ve been heavily influenced by the various special exhibits as well as the permanent collection.

Over the years I’ve spent many hours standing in the Modern Art galleries of the Main Bldg and since 2016 been on Night Shift in the Modern and Contemporary Art museum. Same museum in a different location.

Thus I’ve spent lots of time gazing at Jackson Pollack drip paintings. Like many people at first I discounted Jackson Pollacks drip painting methods but over time his methods began to intrigue me motivating me to incorporate his technique into my photography.

Not having a great deal of space in my house instead of dripping paint I drip nail polish or what some call Lacquer. I really enjoyed the process however my Masterpiece is now drying in the backyard due to the awful smell of nail polish. My cat Sylvester even left the bedroom electing to sit in the hallway watching me.


(For those of you who have no idea who is Jackson Pollack I have included two videos of him in Creative Action.)

Funny that right around the time I saw the flyer for the Union Art Show I saw the head curator for the photography department. Every time I see him he has always encouraged in my endeavors. Two other curators have also encouraged me.

God wants me to move forward with my Photography Blog Roaming Urban Gypsy as well as to expand my outreach in terms of creating and submitting more photos throughout New York city.  Therefore I’m stepping up my game for 2018. 


Here is a Sneak peek at my Photography Collage submission from inception to completion.

The Name of my submission is Broadway Junction en Lacquer. 







Return of the Prodigal Daughter ~~ Series Two


Return of the Prodigal Daughter ~~ Series Two


Saga of JoyBaieda Rueine


Previous Episode


Room John 3:16

JoyBaieda had consistently checked the dials, gauges, and meters wondering why the absorption rate was glowing so slowly that it was almost at a stand still. Formerly troublesome tremulous Nepenthes had ceased leaving their home-base making it even more difficult to feed the diameters so the process could continue. Even the formerly tremulous thermostat was silent. Quiet. Too quiet…  Made her wonder if the Settlement would survive  Then wonder why the Dayforming process had slowed down to the point of going in reverse.  At this rate no matter how many Ancestor passkeys were at hand or available for use there was no way we would be able to scale the Community Board and be ready for Escape Pod Eclipse.

Havana Heart Cabana 


Ancestor Passkeys






Must employ the Wisdom of the Strix and their descendants The Nephilim

Quantico and Flowering Inferno 

“There were giants on the earth in those days… the sons of God came in to the daughters of men and they bore children to them”. (Gen. 6:4) the Nephilim?


At that thought She spotted the little multicolored Whirlwind. As she watched it began to spin. As it spun it grew larger whilst moving in a circular pattern as it approached her. Then it began to take the form of a young man with a handle bar mustache, top hat and frock coat.  Unexpectedly a beautiful young woman materialized along side him.






With the coming of the Strix Eclipse the Dead shall Mock the Living.


Quite the Dapper Gentleman aren’t you Uncle Henry and I see you’ve brought along Aunt Carrie!  Carrie beating Henry to reply with a gentle noble head said, “I tired of the Gibber jab of Hibernia Watson and decided to accompany Henry on this quest,.

JoyBaieda breathed a sigh of relief that Aunt Carrie had accompanied Uncle Henry as Aunt Carrie was a skilled Streamstress.  Surely Aunt Carrie could get to the root of the problem, speed up the Dayformer in readiness for the Eclipse.

Well Now Folks Let the Soiree Begin!


Aunt Carrie and Uncle Henry transported us via Memories Tubes back to 924 Belmont Avenue in Brooklyn, New York — One of my many Old childhood Haunts.  Obviously not their memories being that they were from the 19th Century but as families we have Collective Generational Memory available to all but only a few can access.  Once a thriving community of families it was now in the 22nd Century had become a bombed out ruin from the Class Wars that devastated America in the 21st century.  Not only was 924 Belmont the portal to disaster and chaos but it was populated by creatures who looked like escapees from the Island of Dr. Moreau.

Extreme weather Conditions lamented the roads. 924 Belmont Avenue was the only place where snow storms, hurricanes, tornadoes, mudslides and earthquakes could occur simultaneously.  The skies and general atmosphere continuously contorted and convulsed as if in some deep agonizing suffering unending pain.

924 Belmont was also a gathering place for seers, oracles, witches and warlocks. Gremlins and gnomes also met for tea-filled elixirs and potions. Even the trolls had a place behind the shield. Despite the bad press over eons Trolls began as gatekeepers. Gatekeepers who were unseated in Euro Fairy Tales.  Some Trolls had even intermarried and had children by not so innocent lusty female fairies.

Enchanted ones who understood the languages of flowers, trees, foliage, plants on earth and below the roiling oceans/seas. Melodic whisperings echoed in underground pubs and taverns.  Musical allurement was provided by the Harp/Harpsichord group The Jiggle Pinks. Terpsichore lead the dancers.  A cacophony. A Din. From both without and within. Flailing Frocks of Flaneuers and Flaneuses forging upon the Dance Floor producing Mixed Media.

Once the Amusement activities ended thus began Winged Garuda who brought the Initiatory Tones. Twinned Flutists paired one higher in elevation than the other but each in sync with the other. Kinship of the Elder lifts up and protects the younger. Beginning One Pulse. Pause. Two Pulse. Pause. Half Pulse. End. In this way the meeting place and all in attendance were Blessed.

Le Gui and Laila Piscatorious miraged upon the scene bringing with them their aquatic environment in suspended animation above the group.  In his seductive voice with a grin and a chuckle Le Gui announced Representatives from Mer-Land All Present and Accounted For!”

Mer-Land was once a Dominion called Coney Island.  Now a bit split off from the mainland but still essential to the Lands.  Each district of Mer-Land was governed by it’s own unique Merlin.  Dominions. Territories. Districts.  Orderly Chaos. That was the 22nd Century.



Patsy Cline Tennessee Waltz



Bonnie Raitt, Aaron Neville & Gregg Allman -Tell It Like It Is




TOM JONES – Green Green Grass Of Home (31 December, 2009)