What have I done.

Freedom?

Just this once

I retain a core of stagnation, if you will. There is a center - my center, that I can find comfort in no matter what. Through grief, self sabotage, heartbreak and identity evolution, I chose to believe that I remain. It may be due to my lack of faith, there is a definite lack, it may be due to fear. Fear of change and of the unknown. A fear of what could possibly go wrong and what could possibly hurt. The unknown internal being that I could become after allowing particular life altering experiences to drift through and misshape me - for better, or worse.
I am afraid of who I might become and not recognizing myself.
My core.
I will be different.
Seeing alterations.
Living alternate endings.
I choose to stay in time for the sake of myself.
Safety.

Surprise.

Hours

there are 2 things i love to experience most : the vast ocean under the matched night sky, and the whistling trees absorbing soft warmth from the sun surrounding me in the thick of the undeveloped forest.


Currently with self titled album from Blackfilm - brilliance.

0000

Remember those ... days. Those long, important nights that had us waking up feeling so special. The dreams in between were the were the hardest parts; at this point in time, sleep was no rest. Rest was unwanted - chore like.
Those days were foolishly special.

Plain jane

Hunted by a look - a style
Unafraid of capture
Promised prominence by the color of black -- class
The shimmer of diamonds -- glamour
Timed, hopeful, glimpses of self -- beauty
Infinitely captured

Detroit

There is much to be gained and learned from this city. I don't refer only the financial and social? breakdown of Detroit, actually, I mean, from an artist's perspective; from the creative human perspective. Photos, prose, short, noisy gritty film. Sketches of the stick figures trudging through concrete sticks, logs, and bridges. A failure of America; mistake, take and leave exhibited in a most raw, organic form.
Detroit is beautiful, it is honest and blunt.
The city is damaged, broken. Yet, there remains a haunting, uplifting effect on the psyche.
What we may become
What once was
What most wish to turn away from
Or stare at with disgust and gratitude for being 'better off'.

A city with a pull that does not know resistance; or so it seems.

3.4.10

Today I received a call back from a lovely lady who interviewed me for a coffee making job 2 days ago. So this means ... My first job in the beautiful city of San Francisco is in motion.

Making coffee
Smiling
Chatting
Business people and wandering artist types

Thank you cosmos
And thank you, to me. I mean, the subconscious/dot me who always steers my rationale when reason and common sense seem to evade my well intentions.

To romance

We want you, forever.

Henry Miller is a ghost who coaches me

I have not been involved here lately and I harbor mixed feelings about it.
It isn't that I haven't anything to push out, there is just so much coming my way lately that I need to TAKE IN.
I realize, in the past year that the fights, the causes, the revolutions can get in the way of just breathing life.

Expression has blossomed into something extremely beautiful to me; I am the art, the artist, the creator, and the creation.
My own work, and the work of nature and human expression and emotion.
A natural result of the ocean and trees, the homeless, kind stranger on the city street corner, the hostile drug addict harassing me in a sandwich shop for change, the molecules of microscopic dirt that breeze past my ear.
I walk a new beautiful city and feel ways that I have not felt, ever. I feel air that gives my face a different chill, through the new strange fog, I imagine images that couldn't have been possible in the place before this.
The surroundings are not duplicate.
The faces do not resemble.
My new found wave of simply being is extremely altered.
Some of the most beautiful things I have thought; felt, have existed only in my mind. Sometimes shared; often not.
I want to share, and I will always feel the desire to, but at this point I choose solitary thought. I want to find a way, a way I can call my way but for the moment, I just want to be lost.


It bothers me that I haven't been here, but I am always here.
Here in ways bigger than .. myself.