Dont Count The Miles

Continuing on from pt 1, "43 Miles"

A photography series from ~05/2011.

A good opener for the second half of the series.

I thought I saw a cat but it was only a fur
I thought I heard a rumble, it was just a purr
'Swore there was a tower but it was only a brick
Paul wanted polio but he only got sick.


Amidst these photographs I took will be random fragments of thought. Some will have to do with the actual photographs while others will just be amusing crap that will possibly temporarily entertain only myself, which is the beauty and problem with 'blogging' in that you can publicize words that relate nothing whatsoever to the common or infrequent reader. That's been the way I have always felt about newspapers or Sears circulars, or those little self-reminders and I.O.Us that are written on crinkly $1 and $5 dollar bills.

Hey Outside

Soaking sopped wet, this photo was taken as I felt as close as I could to a wet alley cat or gold fish in cotton attire. Still, a moment of enjoyment was to be had yet watching people run full pace beneath the safety of an umbrella from the doors of the book store to their cars 15 ft away made me feel like the biggest joke or the freest from weathered reaction.

A dialogue:
"You know what you need to do Joey?"
"No, What do I need to do?"
"You ought to make sure to never allow anybody to tell you what you need to do or how to do things."
"Well I guess I'm fucked now no matter what choice I make."

Like A Vulture

Like A Vulture

Like A Vulture

 These vultures live in the cave of a gorge hidden beyond streams past trails that part from the railroad tracks of Recluse Valley. Every morning through afternoon they swoop in unison to find their own treats to devour. I had traffic blasting towards me on a highway bridge-side as taking these photographs with angry commuters barely striking me in preparing a meal for the vultures. 

I recorded footage of them as well. Their dinner schedule is  nearly always on queue and they never have to leave too far from their gorge home to get fed. Now I ask, who has it better, the vultures or wolves?

Be Late For Everything

Growing Your Bangs Out

You know those commercials where products talk, where products have personalities and characteristic traits? Do you know those? You shouldn't, none of us should, but you probably do. In the sane world, in the sane world, we have products that encompass traits of human behavior. And scientists who want to free the world of dependency and scarcity tactics are called mad.God help us if talking brooms are of the sane rational (or characterized pieces of dirt being picked up by a broom, or a bottle of window cleaner for that manner.) What breed of hysteria is this? Part of me just knows deep down it's a long branch of some absurdest movement, and what a prank it is. We call it the free world. It arrests those who go crazy from expressing their discontent with living amongst the mad. When I say 'we' not only am I not speaking French but I also mean 'We' and in 'They' and any other raving fevered broad generalization. When the vacuum bag starts having full on conversations with you I think it's safe to say you've been company-bitten.

Flashy Outreach

Gnack

40th Wonder Of The World

Tripping Down The Stares

When you are the only human out roaming about, everything else can feel so much more alive. You can actually stop and think about what happened in the places you stand at and experience without being pushed or pressured to move along the path to 'get where you are going.' It's a beautiful feeling. Owls feel it. I'm not sure if chimney sweepers do or not. Probably not.

5 AM

The day sky starts to slip out of the covers, The sun gets out of bed from the moon but there is no coffee, so it goes out to the store. It's been all day. he gets back to his wife.. by that time it isn't light out any more. (Don't try to think that one out, I haven't.)

Restrictive Conversation

Using intimate objects and their placement to pursue the viewer into an imaginative interpretation. Much like talking vacuum cleaner bags.

JOIN us!

 A poem:

The darlin' who gleefully pees in the breeze

need not care about phrases like 'it's the bees knees'

but instead smokes to where a small walk ignites a weeze

Then attempts to use a wine glass to bottle the seas.

An argument ensues over all the false and trues

Walking naked to check the mail regarded as truly rude

But clothes hide nudity and sway fashion through urge to screw

So fornication is divided to love, creation and getting used.

A bird on the shoulder is brave if the shoulder owner likes chicken

The bird sings "Bob" in the mornings as the fog thickens

A small child is brave if given a piggy back ride by a cannibal

but eating your toe-headed young is an act that is truly stricken

There's a bathtub in the boat in an ocean with giant soap fish..(To be continued..)

"The Day Something Happened"

On a serious note was something written written rather jokingly.

But on a much more serious note, albeit almost forgotten, Here is the long non-awaited video for "Cat Opera"

=

If anybody wants to donate hard drives or blank DVDs I'll ship you prints and make you a grilled cheese sand which. Space is running thin."Too many people ask for things." "I agree, I was just kidding."

This is updated but not complete. 'May expand or continue with a pt 3.