Concerning the works of Room 13: Osseous,

All artwork and words are original to
Hannah Carpenter Pitkin unless noted otherwise.


every universe of vice and dent
hushed itself in the empyrean
wells above and below the storm


Chapter 259: The Cat Is In Heat

Jed:  Claudine! The goddamn cat is in heat again!

Dear Rosemary,
Here she is.


October 27 2011

this little one is happy.


Kazuo Ohno

Happy birthday Kazuo Ohno,
an honor to be born on the same day eightytwo years post.
1906 - 2010


Near The Window, Near The Bath


Porcelain Girls

It wasn't regret, but more of a sad silence in her eyes that gave her away.


emptying out the mosh pit
new home's got a muscle feel


Meet Me In The City




The Dust Blows Forward And The Dust Blows Back

There's ole Gray with her dovewinged hat
There's ole Green with her sewing machine
Where's the bobbin at
Toting old grain in a printed sack
The dust blows forward and dust blows back
And the wind blows black through the sky
And the smokestack blows up in sun's eye
What am I gonna die?
A white flake riverboat just flew by
Bubbles popped big
And a lipstick Kleenex hug on a pointed forked twig
Reminds me of the bobby girls
Never was my hobby girls
Hand full of worms and a pole fishing
Cork bobbing like a hot red bulb
And a bluejay squeaks
His beak open an inch above a creek
Gone fishin' for a week
Well I put down my bush
And I took off my pants and felt free
The breeze blowing up me and up the canyon
Far as I could see
It's night now and the moon looks like a dandelion
It's black now and the blackbird's feeding on rice
And his red wings look like diamonds and lice
I could hear the mice toes scampering
Gophers rumbling in pile crater rock hole
One red bean stuck in the bottom of a tin bowl
Hot coffee from a krimpt up can
Me and my girl named Bimbo Limbo Spam

-Captain Beefheart


The Last Tin Roof

free write October 6, a Thursday

Beady was a small child, had
a bald head but for a few curls.
Didn't know what a train was,
didn't know how the moon felt,
wasn't sure about much but her pet
chicken, Ms. Veronica De La Rose.
Her mother wasn't a woman and her
daddy left when she was a hatchling
so no one cared if the swelling of her ankle
was going down or up.
It was going up and it was getting black
real black, real black.
Beady had a song she liked and
she sang it out loud quite loud
to her little sick chicken, Ms. Veronica De La Rose.
No neighbors minded.
She had a nice voice that floated
like a silk veil over the fences and
the tins of the roofs and it
sounded real nice when it would finally
land in your lap and hush you
usually 'til sleep or sometimes hush you awake.
Beady's bald head was bald all the way now
and Ms. Veronica De La Rose was dead since dawn.
The blackness of Beady's ankle enclosed
and took her eyes and settled them,
and the last tin roof fell
quiet for the echos of the veil.


Björk's latest. October 10th.

Thoughts on this are endless, and they are very full.
A fitting release. A very fitting release.

'Best way to start-a-new
Is to fail miserably.
Fail at loving
And fail at giving
Fail at creating a flow.
Then realign the whole
And kick into the start hole.

To risk it all is the end all and the beginning all.'
-from Moon

'It's the sparkle you become
When you conquer anxiety.'
-from Crystalline



A conversation with my father based in the optics and mathematical formulas related to the optimal aperture size in a pinhole camera (riveting, trust me), came to halt at the introduction of another subject: the potential for Einstein's special theory of relativity to be inaccurate. I lost all chins as my jaw dropped when poppa Pitkin told me of the recent studies in the speed of neutrinos. 

(Note: neutrino; a neutral subatomic particle with a mass close to zero and half-integral spin, rarely reacting with normal matter. Three kinds of neutrinos are known, associated with the electron, muon, and tau particle.) 

(Also note: The neutrinos raced from a particle accelerator at CERN* outside Geneva, where they were created, to a cavern underneath Gran Sasso in Italy, a distance of about 450 miles, about 60 nanoseconds faster than it would take a light beam. That amounts to a speed greater than light by about 0.0025 percent (2.5 parts in a hundred thousand). [New York Times] )

He smiled as he told me that if it were true that there was something faster than the speed of light, our entire knowledge and capabilities within time travel would be refashioned. 'You could run a circle so fast that by the time you made it back to where you began, you'd see your own backside.' In response, I told him that they should give the experiment a couple more tries before we considered altering our thoughts on time travel. The idea frightens me. The possibilities, oh!: but I don't want anyone meddling with the past. We have fucked up (pardon to my family who may find the word distasteful), and we deserve the repercussions. Lessons couldn't be learned if they were never had. And what is the point of being a living, intelligent, motivated human being, without the honor of trial and error; of doing wrong and knowing wrong.

I've been looking into it: it seems as though this theory is far from confirmed, which breathes me easier. Though Star Trek may be one of my favorite science fiction television explorations (mm, and The Twilight Zone,) I would prefer that we leave those warps for our imaginations and elaborate screen writing. We are doomed as a planet, largely due to our naughty behavior, but also due to the nature of things. Birth, Adaptation, Consumption, Death. I have the belief that one day, a species similar to ours will have learned from, and heeded to our failures, but if we attempt solving the past's disasters, then we are forever doomed to a world with no present: a never ending cycle of do-overs that inevitably leads us to a barren world that is neither here nor there. The living thing is meant to follow through with its natural cycle. Time travel, in my opinion, is not a part of that, but a disruption of it.

(*CERN is the world's largest particle physics laboratory, located near Geneva at the border between Switzerland and France. The name CERN derives from its original incarnation: the French Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire, or European Council for Nuclear Research, which was formed in 1952 to help establish world-class fundamental physics research in Europe. Two years later, the council was dissolved and replaced by the European Organization for Nuclear Research. The name CERN was retained. [New York Times] )


Wild At Heart

'This whole world's wild at heart and weird on top.'
-David Lynch's 'Wild At Heart'

Endlessly romantic. Endlessly disturbed. A brilliant filmmaker.


only, my forewarned god
does that thing where he tells everyone
before me the bad things,
an encyclopedia of damaged goods
and three drinks in he gets frisky
when i have to say, god.
you stop it now.
i've been trying all along to be as good
as i can and you come along
making it impossible to lift my back up
and say the rights things to people
who can get me places,
big places with those vines you
read all about in the greek type books
so just lay off it.
i'll be on my way if you'd just stop
blocking the doorway.

excuses, excuses.


Fly season is over,
Now we wait.


you will find me at the side rail
229 229 229,
it's easy to remember.
i'm the one who always writes it down,
i'm the one who bought the coffin,
i'm the one who buried you.