Friday, May 17, 2019

Stactirrm Radioo

The radio art collaboration between W.A.Davison of The Recordists and Matt Waldron, a.k.a. irr. app. (ext.), is currently on its fifth of 12 monthly episodes. The project consists of 12 30-minute programs with each program collecting 15 random 1-minute clips from the irr. app. (ext.) archive and 15 random 1-minute clips from the archives of The Recordists. Listen here.

Sunday, March 31, 2019

The Black Unicorn

On Mar. 30th, 2019, Sylwia Chrostowska, William A. Davison, Joёl Gayraud, Sherri Lyn Higgins, and Vittoria Lion, met again for discussion and collective writing. Heavy on the discussion, light on the writing, actually, but two rounds of "Definitions" were played -

Beaver - noun. a teacup once stood on the hindmost head of it; sleeps on its side; also known as the wignig.

The Black Unicorn - the glove used to handle excess ectoplasm spewed from the nostrils of twenty-five-year-old female mediums in specialized university slime farming facilities.

Curvature - a dam which breaks at midnight.

Feather - the dissent of the snakes when the winter comes back.

Horn - the beginning of a horrifying story.

House plant - (archaic) an eerie cry reported by miners who took a wrong turn supposed to be issued by abandoned mineshafts.

Inflatable - a window or point of egress.

Necrophilia - the foundation of the matter.

Palace - the rare and unique kind of lion that has a trunk.

Rabies - a perplexing moment at the bottom of a lake.

The Ice Fields

On Feb. 2, 2019, Sylwia Chrostowska, William A. Davison, Joёl Gayraud, Sherri Lyn Higgins, and Vittoria Lion met at the home of The Recordists (Davison/Higgins) for discussion, games and collective art-making. Here are some of the results of that meeting:

Saturday, December 15, 2018

Forbidden Boredoms

On November 30th, 2018, Sylwia Chrostowska, William A. Davison, Joёl Gayraud, Sherri Lyn Higgins, and Vittoria Lion met at Future Bakery in Toronto for discussion, games and collective art-making. Here are some of the results of that meeting:


Distant towers, with their windows lit, look like trees. They sighed..."The solar system has begun to rot and I am swimming among radiant earlobes." And then they stepped out onto the radioactive prairie where tall grasses ate wayward children.  Birds glowed brightly in their glass jars as the avant-cowboys gripped their levitating saddles and hooted. Never awake the troll who dreams, he could find a new star on the nose of the Milky Way and the rainbows would become the eggplants of the skies. Going on the attack, glistening like worms and mushy like the skulls of newborns, we mistook them at first for dirigibles, from a great distance, unthreatening and ridiculous blobs.


The engines stopped vibrating on a dime. They trembled and shaked the wrist of time. Little did Emily realize that a tornado of spiralling eggs had descended upon the tiny village of mouth breathers. The Pentacle Robots slipped on the whimsical face of the weather during the assumption of the forbidden boredoms. The engines revved up again, then sighed as time left them, alone, to wind up its watches.


A lighter-than-air vehicle entered the room to the sound of a foghorn chorus. We lifted the furniture over our heads. But as for our feet, they are made of foam and smoke and clouds. The nose star sat comfortably in the universe and, propping its brow on the crutches it had seized from the interstellar beggar, it had a few deep smells of her lovely feet. The others went downstairs to check on the freshly murdered tulips sprouting in the laundry emitting invisible ink into the chocolate night. Next Tuesday their remains were more shocking than ever, singing to themselves in the corners of the room.

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

A shoe filled with soup

Last weekend, Jason Abdelhadi of the Ottawa Surrealist Group was visiting Toronto. On Nov. 18th, at the suggestion of S.Higgins, Jason organized a meeting at a local cafe (Jimmy's Coffee at Queen and Ossington - just a few doors down from one of our old haunts, The Ossington) for discussion and game-playing. The group consisted of William Davison (The Recordists), Joël Gayraud (Le groupe de Paris du mouvement surréaliste), Sherri Higgins (The Recordists), Vittoria Lion (Peculiar Mormyrid contributor), and Jason Abdelhadi (Ottawa Surrealist Group). Here are some of the results:


Dinosaur - A flying entity which has a tendency to erupt into strange squawking every third week of the month.

Balloon - The feathers of the wind when it blows from nowhere.

Harpsichord - A form of whipped topping.

Fence - The speed of ocelots times five.

Monkey - A strange mechanism by which the esophagus of the firmament is paralyzed, spitting frescoes onto the stratospheric forests.

Tornado - An extinct kind of dog indigenous to the inner chambers of Mount Etna.

Mortification of the flesh - The anxiety of the beaver in front of the cheesecake.

Popsicle - 1) A stage actor, 2) a mime.

Owl - A broken reflection in a pond of muddied dreams.

Truth - A shoe filled with soup.

Question and Answer

Q: Why does it rain in the springtime?
A: A cat with a green ear and a terrible sense of humor.

Q: What is the oldest family of organisms in the known universe?
A: The fourth leaf of a red clover.

Q: What is the law?
A: It occurs every second Sunday in the trunk of an abandoned car.

Q: Why has the storyteller forgotten the punchline?
A: An untrimmed nose hair bouquet.

Q: What is the opposite of soap?
A: Because the lady downstairs put the cat out.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

North Mutator!

Collective drawing by North Mutator (K.W.Zentner, S.Higgins, W.A.Davison), Toronto, May 23/11.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Collaborative Texts

Several collaborative texts from our recent meeting with Ron Sakolsky:

Seaweed Breakfast

Tiny particles open onto poisonous smiles as the lid of the coffin closes and closes and closes and suddenly a bell rings underwater but the sound is muffled by the night air and hair falling from the trees. Motors collapse under your eyelids, heavy with wind that rustles around the back door. Wrestlers dance ring-around-the-rosy from dawn until another tree collapses from the weight of the hair. So I tie them up in ponytails and braid them like dreadlocks of green seaweed that smells vaguely of dandelions and floating islands consisting of tortoise shells and seaweed necklaces tightened round the necks of alabaster cakes.

The spatula slaps the pancake in the face.


The Abstract Gorillas

The mechanical birds gathered around feasting on the flesh of roasted peat moss and bears. Other creatures talk quietly while baring their yellow teeth, and yellow toes, yelling about dirt and the Abstract Gorillas kiss and lick in cacophonous smacks, all of the back doors closing with a slam and the front doors wide open in anticipation of cheese. Other apparitions appeared to be floating like a souffle puffing up and up under the old lady's skirt. A mastodon sneezes her up to the skylight with the force of a swift wind winder.

These types often get upset over the most minor aberrations like small buffalo stampedes and empty enema bags.



When snow falls up in ickly blue flakes it drops down into old buckets of rusty body parts which glow like worms of green hue looking quite lovely in the reflection from your eye's eye. I painted a large hexagon on your belly with my sperm, no I didn't think it inappropriate at all, in fact your scent was thrilling to the parakeet too.

His/her feathers vibrated in time with the pseudomusical groin calculations of starry nights aboard sinking ships. Audrey was taken by a sudden impulse to eat mud and, according to her nature, vomited.


Several rounds of "If, Then, Because" (variation of Le Cadavre Exquis game):

If boats fly then my sister's lips are wet because antlers are heavy.

If carousels spin then grab your hat because the backsliding preacher is among us.

If money grew on trees then all the trees walk because some people aren't very careful.

If bugs fly then mountains excrete sand because your hands are curled tightly around his thighs.

If the night was day then ants would dance because sand drifts under the door.

If brooms walk among us then keys are only used to open what is stuck because mice like privacy.

If bellowing behemoths embrace in automobiles then eagles sing because sections of the ceiling will collapse.

If the piano catches fire then music burns your fingers because girls like fun.

If drill sergeants laugh then salamanders whirl like dervishes because the red rhinoceros peeks through the hedges twice a day.

If the tiles on the floor flew up your nose then old men see things because the crimson carapace cracks.

If Victorian ambulances appear unexpectedly then coconut trees are like candy to foresters because spider webs are sticky.

If lakes shimmer at night then the black tooth glows feverishly because underneath your doormat is not my resting place.

If your face was made of sausages and lace then flower petals feel soft because electric sea creatures are not always very friendly.

If space capsules land on your house then the laughter of penguins would not be in vain because all people like surprises.

If oranges are edible then birthday cakes explode because the right side of your face doesn't know what the left side is saying.

- R.Sakolsky, S.Higgins, W.A.Davison, Toronto, Jan. 16, 2011