Monday, December 21, 2009

It's 5:13 am and I'm awake. Sort of.

At least I'm trying to wake up.

I'd like to tell you I have something to say but the truth is I haven't had anything to say for so long I'm not sure I know what to do any more.


It's now 5:15 am and I still have nothing to say.

I am resisting the impulse to wax dramatic. To lament. That is my old stand by - to dredge up emotional muck from the bottom of the barrel, stir it up, and then describe the bits of flotsam as they swirl by.

But right now the smallest effort to communicate seems impossible - as if I am trying to re-create the universe - and I can't help but think of the young man in "American Beauty" who describes his heart as being so full it might explode.

But that's not quite right either, so I continue on as Dave Mathew's "so much to say, so much to say, so much to say..." rattles around like a pea in the dried little gourd of my head. And as the pop culture references continue to "pop" up, I realize I am tired of mouthing platitudes.

It's all some polished bull sh*t version of something, not even myself.

The thing is...

(throat clearing noise)

The thing is -honestly- I've f*cking bought in.

I bought in to a bunch of pretty lies and I knew better.

It's comical, really, but the worst part is - not just that I did it to myself - but that I did it for the hell of it. Just to see if I could.

And while I'm not ready to burn it all down, I am ready, at least, to laugh derisively at myself and others for joining in to...

"The Emperor's New Clothes"
"The American Dream"

I am now the proud owner of a new house. Well, a condo at least.

I bought in during the Down Market as to obtain more Value for my Dollar and have Maximized my Investment Potential.

What is a condo, you may ask? It's a concept really. You buy a condo and you own everything from the studs in - air, mostly. And the right to pay HOA fees, of course.

HOA fees. What a concept. And I am paying them, willingly.

In fact, I got in line. I jumped through hoops. I went out of my way so I could have the privilege of paying fees to an institution I've always found inherently repulsive.

Want someone to tell you what to do and how to do it? Join an HOA.

It's the closest thing to Nazi-ism I can think of in modern American culture today - in a beige sort of way, anyway.

And for what do I get in return for these fees? Nothing really.

In fact, I own nothing.

I own...

A concept.

Each month I pay a cell phone bill, a car payment, a house payment.

I own none of these things.

And I am smiling right now, grimacing and shaking my head as I think of the extremely large joke I've played on myself.

I could laugh until I cry.

(Well no, not really, but it's only because I've become so goddamn well adjusted that nothing seems to bother me that much anymore - I feel as if I've slipped a velvet noose around my neck for the pleasurable sensation.*)

It's now 7 and I am really, really f*cking late.

Maybe this is why I don't blog anymore.

*Hey! Why not a little auto-asphyxiation while I'm at it? That would complete the whole self-destructive pleasure scenario quite nicely, don't you think?

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Friday, December 18, 2009

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Tuesday, December 01, 2009


Did the annual Turkey Day Hike with Mom in Sedona, then flew to L.A. the next day to hang with T for the long weekend.

Did very little and oh how enjoyable that was.

The quality of light, low and diffuse, was wan but inviting.

Could be the time of the year.

Could be the smog.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Went to the Phoenix Art Museum last night.

Saw a movie documenting the life of a Japanese artist in her late 70's, still driven to create.

Very interesting movie. Also a little depressing.
It seems the most f*cked up people have the most to say.

Not that she seemed all that f*cked up compared to most - her residence in a mental institution aside - but that she seemed to be creating art out of compulsion.

On the other hand, it's 6:44 a.m. right now, and I should be in the middle of my morning commute.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Life is a funny thing;

Each and every moment balanced on it's edge, waiting to topple over into...


Or not.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Sunday, November 08, 2009

A parting shot of the Westward Ho taken during our last trip of the move.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Meditation Blues

Fall is upon us, which means that each morning, 'round 6, I turn on the blue UV light and meditate.

Coincidentally, I've strung blue lights in honor of...

Hanukkah, Festivus, or my White Trash Roots, you be the judge!

Greetings from Downtown Phoenix!

Friday, October 09, 2009

Last First Friday

The First Friday Art Detour has expanded and is now quite literally at our doorstep.

This was the view from our balcony just a few weeks ago.

At first I was annoyed to find I couldn't just hang out, undisturbed, after a long day.

But then it became mildly interesting - not Cirque de Soleil interesting - more like watching waves crash on the beach kind of interesting - but after I'd sorta warmed up to the idea...

I realized this would be my one and only such viewing.

First Friday, next, we should be in our new digs, just a little further south, and off the beaten path.

Monday, September 21, 2009


I recently checked out a CD from the library entitled "Come on feel the Illinoise!" by Sufjan Stevens.

I'd randomly grabbed a few albums and, per the cover art, I thought this was going to be a punk album.

Not even close.

But definitely interesting.

Currently, I'm listening to "Jacksonville," a sparse, melodic combination of banjo, guitar, coronet and voice. The genre is... elusive.

It starts off kinda folksy - very middle America - with traditional instruments and themes that could've been lifted from "The Waltons" or even "Fanfare for the Common Man" - and then a quietly compelling voice coalesces.

The voice has a quality... which might be described as ethereal -or- what it's like to hear an accident described by a victim still in shock. It's both emotional and detached at the same time.

The lyrics, too, convey this esoteric feel , with words both simple and strange:
I'm not afraid of the black man running
He's got it right, there's a better life coming.
I don't care what the captain said.
I fold it right at the top of my he-ad.
They hint at things without fully revealing them, and we are left to grope at their meanings:
Our step mom we did everything to hate her
She took us down to the edge of Decatur
We saw the lion and the kangaroo take her
Down to the river where they caught a wild alligator
This enigmatic combination of voice and word*, when layered over folksy, pastorale themes, creates a tension that is both alluring and compelling.

Its sorta like seeing a small town pageant put on by your disturbed aunt.

You just have to see what happens next.**

*Brilliant in childlike simplicity -or- the result of cognitive disassociation?
**In fact, I can't stop listening to or thinkin' 'bout this mother effin' album! HELP!

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Friday, September 18, 2009

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Post Enlightenment Conundrum

The problem with being too well adjusted is the absence of motivation.

After you let go of fear and neurosis, why bother, my brothers?

I'm pretty sure that's my problem.

Too well adjusted.


The good Reverend Falwell is no longer with us but his legacy lives on.

Even in recently striped parking spaces.

As Dana Carvey's Church Lady once asked, with eyebrows raised:

"Could it be...


Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Collective Soul

I heard an interesting supposition recently that we are not, each of us, a single entity, but a collective of smaller independent organisms.

These organisms, familiarly known as human cells...

(just stay with me here, people)

...each have a primitive consciousness and function according to self preservation, rather than simple mechanism.*

As such, not only are individual tasks completed...

...but "higher organisms"** are formed, not as the result of some central imperative, but through a cooperative alliance.***

At least that's the theory!

Meanwhile, we have to somehow figure out how to somehow integrate the parts.

*Okay, it's a little out of left field to posit that cells choose their actions, but I'll leave it to the naysayers to address the point. ; )

Not unlike myself!
***Such alliances might have evolved over time as a kind of survival strategy.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

I was staring at the ceiling earlier this evening, which I do sometimes.

I lie on the floor and focus on the light in the ceiling fan, a still point amidst the swirling blades.

Sometimes I meditate, doing pranayama breaths like a wave, from belly to chest and back again, but more often I just let my mind wander.

I was doing this, half meditating, half dozing, when I saw the face of Jesus* in the fire sprinkler, which I had never done before**.

His face was very gaunt, with a patchy, almost spikey looking beard and he had on a white headset. He wasn't looking at me but off into the distance.

With the headset, he looked kinda like one of those product demonstrators you see in the Mall or on TV. Like the Sham Wow guy.

Come to think of it, that guy died recently.


*Or maybe it was Don Quixote, but I'm pretty sure it was Jesus.
**Yes, I seriously saw the face of Jesus in the fire sprinkler - the anglicized version anyway.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009


I feel I've hit a plateau re:photos:
  1. (upper left) Pretty sky picture.
  2. (upper right) Probably my favorite of the bunch but not particularly inspiring. Would like to retroactively reframe, slightly to the left, and refocus on the bush in the foreground.
  3. (lower left) I like this photo for its vaguely pin-hole-esque feel and the cryptic reflections in the foreground, but its a bit washed out and feels a bit staged. I like stagey, but it needs to be either more or less so. Also, I'm guessing M would say the figure is too centered.
  4. (lower right) There's a texture and luminosity here I wanted to capture - a silver gelatin kind of thing - but it was taken, hand-held at night, and the lack of focus is a stumbling block.
Activity pointed in the right direction, but lacking framing or just the right focal point.

Indicative of something greater?

*I've now rotated the order per M's suggestions.
**Still feels like the same photos in a new arrangement, though

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Friday, May 29, 2009


Celine Dion does a song - I don't know the name - but you've heard it.

It's the one from that iceberg movie with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio?


At work yesterday, the song came on and Sully, my bald-headed co-worker, started doing a bird-like little dance.

"Sully?" I asked, with eyebrow arched.

Whereupon, he shuffled over from across the room and in Yoda-like voice, decreed:


Then, abruptly shuffling back, he stopped and in the same voice, announced:


And walked out.*

*Turns out the song reminded him of an old Sesame Street skit, "near and far."