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Intersections of light in time.
20 most recent entries

Date:2008-03-17 23:52
Subject:A Single Act
Mood:Completely loved

You never know what one single act can bring about. One sentence said to someone that seemed so inconsequential at the time in the grand scheme of things. A heartfelt compliment to a stranger. Do I know you? Have we met during some distant time, over and over only to return to this point again and again? Have I always been looking for you? One dance, one mustering of courage to do what I normally do not. Such fantastic occurrences.

There is no image that can capture this so all you get is text. Resized and (c) in Phoenix 1.9.6 OS X, no further editing.

(3 critiques | critique)

Date:2006-11-23 02:33
Subject:Pull over and look for falling stars.
Mood:Completely unsure

Shadows of what it once was and will be again.

I am halfway between Camden and Rosston, driving like I have somewhere to be. Do I? In the short term, yes, sometime before 9pm I should arrive at my Grandmother's house. It is 6:46 and I have plenty of time. The woods close in and the road is vacant of the small pools of light known as houses. The trees vanish where the loggers clear-cut a few square miles. I pull over as my bladder had been asking about pulling over for a while now. I pause the music and kill the headlights to allow the darkness a bit of relief as well. Looking up at the sky there should be a meteor shower tonight, still too early I think to myself. Where was I going? I was in such a hurry to get there but somewhere along the road I lost momentum. I lost my direction and became comfortable in a monotonous commute to and from work. My days were cookie cutter days and each one could have been substituted for any other. I know most folks are like that but not me. But now I am. What the hell happened? Did I miss my exit? Now I don't even know which one I wanted to take. So much for my impeccable sense of direction. What now?

I get back in the car and continue on to my destination. The road appears and vanishes in view of my headlights, coming in 100' increments, easy to handle but not terribly exciting. Was this whole journey reminding me of my current state or was it just because once you're in a frame of mind, you tend to put the pieces you're given into that mold or hold them up to that light?

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.

(5 critiques | critique)

Date:2005-10-18 00:01
Subject:The miles of adventure begin with the path from my door.
Mood:painfully homesick

The miles of adventure begin with the path from the door.

I don't have the exact picture I wish for this post. Perhaps one day. I will re-post with the perfect one that I see in my mind. Until then, enjoy. Yes the quote is lyrics from the song that fits perfectly, breaking from my normal movie dialogue. The full lyrics fit.

On nights like this when the full moon is high, I laid in bed, letting my eyes wander out the windows. The treetops were bathed in silvery auras. The shadows danced beneath them. The crisp refreshing night air would filter through the cracks around the windows, through the cobwebs and dead bugs in the sill between the screen and the window and dance into the cold corners of the house.. the draft would tempt me, beckon me. We would get up and go outside. I would need a minute for the darkness to turn to an almost daylight for my night accustomed eyes. I'd walk down the road and let my mind wander. I feared no creatures that lived near there, no humans for miles is what assured my safety. I enjoyed the warm rivers of air that flowed from the forest, the sound of night and gravel underfoot. I had my best thoughts, best dialogues, best ideas. Most of them lost by the time I returned to the warm safety of the thin-skinned house trailer. It was an almost nightly ritual. Sometimes during the weekends it would happen so early a bird would chirp and the world would awaken in the hours I spent walking. I would venture into the woods from time to time.. no different than the driveway except the woods did not have a bed of gravel, still trees all around. The massive round silvery green and grey spheres of the trees all mingling… talking. Too slow was their conversation for me to hear. I am now two thousand miles away, staring up at the same moon, same sky...sans a few stars. I smell the air and it smells similar. I look out and see buildings, light pollution.. the danger of night in the city. I die a little more. Cold, hollow, lacking the recharge of the home I left. Mom is right. It gets harder this time of year. Not the holidays, just the season.. fall.. crisp. The natural instinct to be ready for winter. I feel I must return to my den... but I'm stuck in exile for yet another winter.

Enya - 'Exile'Collapse )

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.

(4 critiques | critique)

Date:2005-10-17 22:28
Subject:Time for reflection


We often seem to pause and fall back, staring at the world moving around us and thinking how we could have done things differently. If we're depressed it might take a more melancholy turn and since our hindsight is 20/20 we can tell where we messed up and where we could have improved things. We hopefully learn from these so they serve some purpose other than a walk down memory lane, pointing out the cracks in the sidewalk only to arrive at the end thinking the sidewalk had a lot of flaws. Our brain plays with what could have or should have or if and when. We start to creep towards the present, finally arriving at where we are, how we got there. I look around the deck of the airport and think of how many places I've gone and how many miles I've seen. How far will I go? Will I keep going or settle into a sedate life of monotony? What do we think of when we dream of the path ahead? How did things get this messed up? How did things get this strange? Can I make them even more uniquely odd or will I slip into a real life? Will adventure abandon me or will I continue to try?

Thank you Van for allowing me to use the picture of you. I never was any good at portraits. This is one of the few I liked. Perhaps because I could relate?

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.

(3 critiques | critique)

Date:2005-08-02 00:43
Subject:True intersections in what was and what is and what will be.

The intersection

I feel... who knows. Recently I attended the end of an era in conventions in my personal belief opinion. Nothing felt like it did and the city change will make everything different. Is that bad? Who knows. Flash forward to Sunday night. I was following my friend from his wonderful place in the country to a dog walk in the city of Boulder Creek, CA when I thought that it was one of those times where you truly realize that something fun you did and took for granted (despite the best attempts not to) was coming to a twilight and would not be again. I cannot alter their choice but I will miss those events. I have already lost my favorite smell, my favorite taste, my favorite sensation and my favorite sound. All of these never to be experienced again. I will have to make new favorites. Those will pale in comparison but I will still be who I was.

I did not think I would post in this journal again. It just didn't feel right. Now I don't know. I thought time would yield more answers but it always seems to give more than it takes. With respect to questions that is. I have some hang up about light or lack there of. When it intersects an object that object's atoms are excited to another energy state, the energy is thusly given back in the form of reflected light. Ok, quick and dirty explanation but sue me. That thing that we see isn't there anymore on the atomic level. Things are here and gone so fast. Taking the time to savor them is wonderful but still. Well I don't know where this was going. Perhaps I'll try again later. Perhaps I'll just leave this. Look at the pretty picture. Ok. Semi pretty. Ok. Fine. The adequate picture. Hey, it fit the theme of the journal to a tee. I like the clock and the light along with the angles that give it a sense of motion despite the obvious static qualities. Oh you are smart folks, you figure it out.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2005-05-08 22:21
Subject:To my mate,
Mood: empty

All that I am is what I was

I will find you again, one day.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2005-04-01 02:07
Subject:All that I am
Mood: grateful

All that I am is what I was

I cannot forget why I am here. I need strength to avoid wasting time on stupid things and make the most out of what limited life is left. I wish I could give him more. He is the most amazing being I've ever shared life with and I just want to repay him.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2005-03-13 21:24
Subject:Once and future past.
Mood: thoughtful

When all that stands has fallen

The downfall of civilization is something that seems to fascinate people. We write stories about it, movies, tales of futures to come. I guess it might be due to our continual fascination with what is to come, the unknown. We look around and watch how our past accomplishments crumble and turn to dust and it makes us wonder, are the monoliths that stand today, that we look upon as immovable domination over the environment, finally going to crumble and fall as all have before? Perhaps that is what fascinates me the most. The return of nature over mankind's accomplishments. No matter how much we guide, pave over, bulldoze, clean, clear, sweep and destroy nature's creations... they always return. Some do fall, never to be seen, but the overall corse of nature keeps flowing. I keep thinking about the analogy of water, always yields but it is the most powerful force, eventually bringing mountains down.

Passage of time. Time enters into it. Perhaps in looking at how nature erodes our accomplishments it is also a visible way of seeing the passage of time. By looking at this I can see the age. The old ruined castles in Germany gave me this idea as well, made me feel how ancient things can be, despite their age paling in comparison to geological, and nature's time. That might be it, it helps me see where the limit's of man's time and the always present geological time interface. I can never hope to fathom how long mountains live but I can get a glimpse of our limited time frame and how it is eaten by geologic time, dogging our heels. All that we have and will have in the future, always ending up like this. Decay always a constant but also simply another function of nature and time's flow.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.

(2 critiques | critique)

Date:2005-03-07 23:37
Subject:Hang On

Hanging on the edge

I hang on the edge.
The edge of life.
Where the tarmac meets the gravel,
and that which quickly fades to air.

Tappets, lifters, cams, all moving in
Oil lubricating, heat dissipating, tyres flexing,
Pi r^2 * the sine of... well,
all that leaves my mind as
I Hang. On. The. Edge.

I don't hear the music
I don't hear the tyre's chirping song.
I just feel all the input my body needs...
steering, pedals, vibration, grip.
Body and soul are all connected through cables and shafts.
They are my feet that keep me balanced...as
I hang on the edge.

I play the corners like the notes of my favorite aria.
Bridge, movement, notes on the staff flying by.
The tyres, engine and exhaust my symphony.


Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.

(2 critiques | critique)

Date:2005-03-04 16:51
Subject:Mother always has the best advice

Close your eyes and the trees are right there. It worked for me in Kansas. You just have them in your mind, it is a state of mind,but then you know that. - Geoterrapene

Sometimes I just need to visit my place of worship, with colums of xylem and phloem with the lignified walls of perfection. Colored with tones made from thousands of years of mixing pallets and platelets of color together. Where the flying butresses hold up fingers of green stained cells, filtering the light to cast down warm rays and allowing me bask in its beauty. My safe harbour, my place of solace, my temple. I long to return with my companion, Buster so that we can wander through the sanctity and inviolability once more.

Said by my Mom via IM conversation a few years ago, no further editing.


Date:2005-02-01 22:24
Subject:Now we see what real fun is made of!

Potential energy

I post a lot of introspective crap. This post is simple:

I love to drive!

Arkansas has some of the worst interstates known to man. What this horrible public facade hides are some of the most brilliantly fun back roads I have ever driven. Fast. Sweeping. Mostly vacant. Fun. Fun. Fun! Some of the roads were designed for speeds way beyond the posted limit for seemingly a civil engineer's kicks in mind. Northern Arkansas especially, with the Ozarks being the base that the ribbons of adrenaline are laid upon takes the cake as the most fun with Western and Southwestern Arkansas and the Ouchita mountains coming in after that, with the boring, speed test straightaways of the delta as the most uninspiring. The northern roads, which wind through the hardwood backdrop of the ancient mountains seem to just seep adventure. I will admit that the mountains of California are far more impressive size wise but nothing drives home the positively ancient age of life like the Ozarks, originally created when the African continent bumped into North America, long since eroded down to rolling hills in some places. It adds something. Driving is where it starts, education about the locality adds to it on another level that I can't explain. This post is not about that. I'll save the deep stuff and finish now. Driving a fun road at the peak of the vehicle's performance, G forces, nature all around and the ribbon of asphalt leading you towards who knows where..and with this much fun being had.. who cares what town you'll end up in... half of the fun is the drive there, you still need to get back home and more unexplored lines on the map lead to where you have to go back to. I can't explain that thrill.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digital camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2004-11-30 22:48
Subject:Speed Vision
Mood: anxious


Sometimes a journey of the body is a journey of the mind. Yes our mind travels with us but I mean how our mind wanders. Perhaps it is the fact that we are our of our routine. Without the day to day monotony and our safe haven of things we are familiar with we are forced to think. Perhaps it is the new environment that reminds us that other things are not to be taken for granted and thus spurs us into thought.

As the things we see as familiar are noticed in other less familiar forms we search for that which does not change. The sunset for instance makes us reflect. We start thinking about what it means. This seems to illicit the subconscious truth strings and the more base stereotypical associations. Perhaps this is drawing our subconscious more towards the surface. Perhaps not.

I sit on the verge of the last leg of my journey. I leave for home tomorrow. Miles lay before me. I look forward to the unexpected.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized a nd (c) in some Apple program, no further editing.


Date:2004-11-30 02:24
Subject:Were were we?

What stalks my soul

Werewolves won't leave my mind alone sometimes. The fall weather always seems to bring them closer to reality. They come up from the depths of my subconscious forests in which they hide. I've walked my drive a million times after dark, at all hours of the night. I always hear sounds from the forests, the natural, wonderful sounds. Deer and other creatures abound in the dark wood. Each time I hear one I hope, almost pray it is a werewolf despite the full grasp on how silly that is. I should be thankful for such a wonderful, imagination stirring environment. It brings my mind to life and helps me fantasize and in those fantasies I make my own reality. Werewolves do walk that wood. I created them. In a way, I am one of them. Thanks to my mind and that wonderful forest that surrounds me.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized a nd (c) in some Apple program, no further editing.

(3 critiques | critique)

Date:2004-11-29 23:19
Subject:Unraveling the silenced whisper.. a trail grows cold

There was supposed to be a picture of Texas' Whispering Giant here. Notice anything funny about the picture? It is not here.

After ysengrin pointed the Peter W. Toth's "Trail of Whispering Giants" I was fascinated by these works of art that was placed throughout the nation. I walked by and admired the one in Little Rock, AR, when I was little, not knowing it was part of anything larger or not remembering if I read the plaque beneath it even.
I was amazed that the one in Texas was at the Welcome center in Texarkana, TX. I remember seeing it as well after thinking about summers in Texarkana as a little kid. I decided to go back and photograph it while I was there visiting my grandmother this month. She lives just a few thousand feet from the spot so one day I drove by to see. After questioning the welcome center welcoming person I learned that decay had taken hold in the wooden monolith and it was given to the city of Texarkana and moved to the Four States Fairground. This means that Arkansas has two now.
That is not however the end, the lady went on to tell me it was later destroyed. No. Not true, they wouldn't let such a one of a kind work of art rot and then throw it away.

The next day I called city hall. Forwarded to the Parks and Recreation Dept I was told it was moved from the Welcome center to Springlake Park. This makes more sense since Springlake Park is indeed on the Texas side of the city. I also was told again, termites got to it and it was destroyed. Is it true? Surely not. I decided to find someone who was there to put the final word and salvation of the item or the final nail in the coffin.
The rain was so heavy that some of the streets were starting to flood but I was almost there so I continued on. I drove around the park and could not find the statue. I found the maintenance shop but no one was around. There was enough misc stuff scattered around that I thought just might be in amongst the 'junk'. What was going on in my mind? If I found it neglected? I was going to call my now deceased Grandfather's friends who were scoutmasters and I was going to 'rally the troops' literally and save the beast or what was left. I assumed since Toth was into scouting (upon further investigation i don't remember where I read that) that surely they would lend aid(Either way Boy Scouts love giant Indian carvings..if not the Order of the Arrow would love it). I found no park workers. However across the street was a park looking building with public parking. I found it was the Caddo Area Council building. Surely they would know. The lady behind the counter knew nothing of it. I found an older man who had no knowledge. So much for my hope. The last possibility is that one of the maintenance workers took pitty on it and it or some piece of it resides in someone's back yard or something along those lines. I've not written off hope yet but the trail keeps pointing to the possible truth that indeed, one of the Toth Giants is no more.


Date:2004-11-26 21:28
Subject:Shifting focus
Mood: contemplative

The overcast sky rolls over the town like some surreal blanket that keeps the stars safe from the infectious pink light from the city. The wind causes the leaves to scurry in fright of what is coming. The leaves skitter and cartwheel towards some unseen safety. It is coming. Out of the wind. Out of the inky blackness. The streets vacant as if their premonitions of the oncoming terror was heeded. The moon casting eerily beautiful silver linings around the holes in the cloud-cover. One gap in the clouds, a forgotten patch of sky that finally reveals the silver spotlight. The bright orb that hangs in the sky like some planetary searchlight, finding the secret that hides out there. The secret that hides in me, rays of reflected, refracted and filtered sunlight that feels as if it slices through my soul and illuminates what hides within. Awakening. The leaves running from me now. Mother nature knows. I am part of her despite being her bastard son. Fear floods out in waves in front of me like an oncoming tidal wave. Energy pours out as I awaken to hunt. Fulfilling my desires as inside my soul leaps with joy and revels in the perfect night. Perfect basally frightening night.

No picture this time, just a verbal image. All text written on an Apple iBook laptop, posted via copper wire transmission. (c) hyaenidae


Date:2004-10-18 20:04
Subject:Form follows function.
Mood: hot

To the depths of hell...

We base many designs off nature. Nature has perfected a lot of engineering solutions. Some are simple as an arch or a sphere and others are complex like fullerenes. The problem needing to be solved and the solution are things nature came over first. Now we get into our wars and such and we need designs. We look to nature. Dragonflies, tortoises and the like are all our inspiration. So is it any wonder when our inventions remind us of the less familiar sources? Coincidence is also in there. A rounded edge to help guide shells into the chamber reminds us of the rounded curves of ourselves. The forces being greater at the base of a cannon than at the barrel tip so we thicken it and taper the barrel. This also leads our mind to wander, compare since as thinking creatures we naturally seek similarities in shapes such as faces in clouds. Our forms follow their functions, along with pleasing-to-the-eye designs added in there but they also mimic nature. We seem to make these associations between others regardless of functionality or inspiration for the design.

There is no sex in violence is often said. I beg to differ. All kinks aside I do believe that there is a certain link between violence and sex and that link is testosterone.That hormone that drives our desire to mate also makes violent creatures. So the violence isn't sexual in and of itself but the tie to the duality of our hormones. Ah back to the wonderful duality of nature. Solving a problem and living with the drawbacks. Just enough to get by. So the link between sex and violence seems obvious despite the case that when violence occurs, sex is usually the furthest thing from the minds of those involved. This does not explain a lot of things and it is not intended to. If you've read this far then you know, the purpose of this post and this journal is to make you think. A lot of my things sound logical on the outside but if you dig deeper they are really false, some things that seem false are true. My point is this. Think. If so then this journal has served its purpose. That, and I still say my pictures are pretty.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized a nd (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2004-10-13 18:30
Subject:Potential of all things with mass...
Mood: contemplative

Sunlight on cold steel

The innovations made for war are some of the most fascinating, frightening and productive.

I believe without a telos in mind for myself I could do well. I also believe I would never sleep well again. I also wonder if my god would forsake me. I mean, is anyone ever happy to do more work? I believe it is the end goal I see for myself that holds me back in some areas. I wonder what I will be like without that. I do feel I will see it one day.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized a nd (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2004-10-04 19:03
Subject:Not usual but common
Mood: depressed

The wonders of an alien world

What we don't see often can seem alien. Things that persist from day to day just like the things we' are familiar with are regarded as odd or unusual because we haven't placed ourselves near them. How well we know the properties of these items is directly linked to this. Now this leads to more exploration when we first encounter them and then judgement calls made, sorting them out in our pre-made scematics of the world. Things like that. Sometimes what is really alien is beneath the surface of things we see daily. I guess that's why cut-away views in books are so neat looking. Seems we rarely look past the obvious into the alien design around us. So much to look at and so much to think about. The original train of thought I had is gone, lost on some tangent. I think I was actually going to compare it to people we know and see on a daily basis with those we don't and thusly what lies beneath the outer facade of both. I really should re-visit that idea sometime.

I wonder if it's stupid to see the path ahead clearly and know it's not the wisest of choices but still continue down. More questions. Wonder if it is stupid to post this.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized a nd (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


Date:2004-09-18 13:09
Mood: gloomy

Passed by

I worked hard to be invisible in college. I had it down for a while. In a way I wish for more days like that as the more masochistic side of me loves to be left out, left to itself. Being invisible, passed over and left out is comforting in and of itself because of the lack of weight placed on your shoulders; no conversations to have to push through and struggle with, no people expecting things of you, no requirement to participate in humanity, no important decisions. Perhaps that is where the pleasure lies, in the lack of urgency and importance. The world just validated you as unimportant so why not take advantage of it?

However, all is not so simple and gratification is not attained so easily. On days like that I would say "Lets go for a drive." and the hidden places that only come out when you are invisible would reveal themselves. No cell phone to distract, no dinner dates or people wanting to hang out.. just miles of open road, some music of my choosing and all the forgotten places one could find. Perhaps that's why I love forgotten places.. I can sympathize with them and see some of myself in them.. thusly, by noticing and appreciating them I somehow am consoling myself, making myself feel special and unique as the bustle of the world rolls over like some surreal time lapse cloudscape... and I am there.. in some forgotten corner, smiling because it's my universe now.. no one else wanted it.

This entire post was taken from a comment to someone so sorry if it sounds familiar to at least one of you.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.

(2 critiques | critique)

Date:2004-09-17 15:50
Subject: Another realization or just another fatigue mark on my eye?
Mood: blah

I think I see the light, or perhaps it was just a flash of reality

It seems recently I've not noticed the passage of time quite like I should have. I blinked and suddenly I've been working at the same place for over 3 years. I've not been home in years. I've not been free. Finding things like purpose and place has only gotten muddled by location and desires. I really should stop and think about things. How can one do that when one never has a break? I think I'll find out.

Surrounded by beauty I forget that I'm not where I want to be. At least I'm enjoying the scenery. I think no matter where you are you should notice the beauty in the location you're in.. at least you will not have wasted any time there.

Nikon Coolpix 990 digtal camera, auto settings. Resized and (c) in Paint Shop Pro 4, no further editing.


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