scarlet begonias & a touch of the blues.
as a great man once said...
"simplify, simplify, simplify."
there is at least one fleeting moment each day when i think to myself with a heavy sigh, "man, i missed my era." i could spend the rest of my life being bummed and hoping for some reincartion to coincide with a time lapse, or i could simply learn to celebrate the best of both, or perhaps all three, worlds. i am still trying, needless to say. but there, its been said to resolve any doubt.
youre probably wondering why ive done this? well, youve just had, perhaps, your first thought of the day. congratulations.
in passing other cars on the road, it seems my mind can reach 75 more quickly than my v8. i still consider the magnitude of how amazing these brief encounters are. when i, on my respective side of the road or lane, am going, on average, 65 miles per hour, it occurs to me that with any person who passes me, maybe at 66 miles per hour, or any person whom i might pass, there has just occured this amazing split second intersection of the culmination of my 19 years of existence and their own. perhaps sometimes every ounce of my childhood, this entire mess of innumerable things that have molded me as their aftermath, this point is the vertex with which my x collides for only one brief second with their y, 56, perhaps, years of an existence i know nothing of. 56 years of innumerable experiences i cant even imagine and will never know, and the sums of ourselves, we the current products at that very instant, have just become an unnoticeable point on each others planes. simply in passing. something about that is sensational to me, always has been.
i thought about music a lot tonight. i thought about drugs in the course of my sobriety and for the brief period afterwards. in singing along with the soundtrack to our evening, i considered the loss of breath control suffered from rusty vocal chords, tarred & feathered lungs, cigarettes, and marijuana. ive always had quite remarkable breath control for a smoker, and admittedly it saddens me to see that it has weakened. i fully maintain, however, that with more polishing it could be what it once was. little polishing, at that. i miss competition choir. latin pieces. being the implement my peers used to gauge themselves. i look forward to attending a college that has a choir. it has been grinding on my nerves for some time now. i also wondered if drugs had resulted in some sort of dulling process for my love of sound. but it took only a split second to realize that if anything, they have progressively enhanced it. what i felt before, what moved me, i feel tens times, am moved unspeakably, with the assistance of intoxicants, primarily marijuana.
the view from the gap today was spectacular. the view from the other side of the hill, even more so. it was a source of inspiration. its time to bring my camera out of its retirement again for the sake of new ideas.
and on the long drive home, when not flying past the unsuspecting and then suddenly slamming on my breaks to scare them as they had no choice but to pass me, i considered my current situation. and what i envisioned for myself was only a house. a large house and my work. i thought of nathan and his house in arizona. but is that what i want? do i want to live in a house with four other people and constant parties? maybe not... however, to be with him, to be on my own, and to finally take my work out west is something ive wanted for a long time. if my acceptance from uga does not come (thanks to the one measely credit hour ive yet to have the time to attain), perhaps i wont come back from what is now only intended to be a temporary stay with him in july. one of many mentors, mr. adams, inspires me to try my luck with the desert scenery. and not just that, but to be so much closer to all the places ive wanted to capture before leaving the country. is this my time? i fear, sometimes, my patience may either become too great a virtue or my fear too great an influence.
i looked inside myself again today and saw one distinguishable thing: myself as a hippie. free living, free loving, free thinking in flip flops. is there such a thing as hardcore hippies? ben harper & the grateful dead with a hefty side of nine inch nails and system of a down? well, there is now. or maybe those were simply my coked out hippie ancestors.
"There is a fist pressing against anyone who thinks something compelling." - Incubus
"simplify, simplify, simplify."
there is at least one fleeting moment each day when i think to myself with a heavy sigh, "man, i missed my era." i could spend the rest of my life being bummed and hoping for some reincartion to coincide with a time lapse, or i could simply learn to celebrate the best of both, or perhaps all three, worlds. i am still trying, needless to say. but there, its been said to resolve any doubt.
youre probably wondering why ive done this? well, youve just had, perhaps, your first thought of the day. congratulations.
in passing other cars on the road, it seems my mind can reach 75 more quickly than my v8. i still consider the magnitude of how amazing these brief encounters are. when i, on my respective side of the road or lane, am going, on average, 65 miles per hour, it occurs to me that with any person who passes me, maybe at 66 miles per hour, or any person whom i might pass, there has just occured this amazing split second intersection of the culmination of my 19 years of existence and their own. perhaps sometimes every ounce of my childhood, this entire mess of innumerable things that have molded me as their aftermath, this point is the vertex with which my x collides for only one brief second with their y, 56, perhaps, years of an existence i know nothing of. 56 years of innumerable experiences i cant even imagine and will never know, and the sums of ourselves, we the current products at that very instant, have just become an unnoticeable point on each others planes. simply in passing. something about that is sensational to me, always has been.
i thought about music a lot tonight. i thought about drugs in the course of my sobriety and for the brief period afterwards. in singing along with the soundtrack to our evening, i considered the loss of breath control suffered from rusty vocal chords, tarred & feathered lungs, cigarettes, and marijuana. ive always had quite remarkable breath control for a smoker, and admittedly it saddens me to see that it has weakened. i fully maintain, however, that with more polishing it could be what it once was. little polishing, at that. i miss competition choir. latin pieces. being the implement my peers used to gauge themselves. i look forward to attending a college that has a choir. it has been grinding on my nerves for some time now. i also wondered if drugs had resulted in some sort of dulling process for my love of sound. but it took only a split second to realize that if anything, they have progressively enhanced it. what i felt before, what moved me, i feel tens times, am moved unspeakably, with the assistance of intoxicants, primarily marijuana.
the view from the gap today was spectacular. the view from the other side of the hill, even more so. it was a source of inspiration. its time to bring my camera out of its retirement again for the sake of new ideas.
and on the long drive home, when not flying past the unsuspecting and then suddenly slamming on my breaks to scare them as they had no choice but to pass me, i considered my current situation. and what i envisioned for myself was only a house. a large house and my work. i thought of nathan and his house in arizona. but is that what i want? do i want to live in a house with four other people and constant parties? maybe not... however, to be with him, to be on my own, and to finally take my work out west is something ive wanted for a long time. if my acceptance from uga does not come (thanks to the one measely credit hour ive yet to have the time to attain), perhaps i wont come back from what is now only intended to be a temporary stay with him in july. one of many mentors, mr. adams, inspires me to try my luck with the desert scenery. and not just that, but to be so much closer to all the places ive wanted to capture before leaving the country. is this my time? i fear, sometimes, my patience may either become too great a virtue or my fear too great an influence.
i looked inside myself again today and saw one distinguishable thing: myself as a hippie. free living, free loving, free thinking in flip flops. is there such a thing as hardcore hippies? ben harper & the grateful dead with a hefty side of nine inch nails and system of a down? well, there is now. or maybe those were simply my coked out hippie ancestors.
"There is a fist pressing against anyone who thinks something compelling." - Incubus