Posts Tagged: lomo

dragonfly wants a piece of pie.

Can’t be what you outta be
Gotta be what you wanna be

Take it with pride and
Like a dragonfly
Dragonfly wants a piece of pie
But he is so strung out

Shake me off the knife because I want to go home

from Dragonfly Pie, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks

Being dead don’t hurt, no only dying

i spent some time writing a eulogy for someone i cared about and it hurt in a way that is hard to describe. trying to explain a life and what that life meant to the ones who loved and cared for that person left me wondering about the explanation of my own existence. my life and what it means, if anything, to anybody that i love and care for. they assure me it does, this isn’t a pity rant but it does give me pause and it reminds me to do and be better, that time is limited and i’ve wasted far too much of it for far too long. so here’s a promise to me, for me and from me to create, care and constantly do things that might better this place we stand on for the one’s that mean something to me.

float on anyway.

i bet being airborne as you die
is a weird sensation for the

MIND to process.
don’t they always say that you feel like your
SPIRIT is floating above your
BODY?

if you are already floating and then your spirit is floating above
your suspended body there must be
some sort of SPIRITUAL chuckle as your

BRAIN processes the
DUALITY of it all.

god bless the republic of texas

texas to me is a mishmash of things; butthole surfers, breakfast tacos, photo friends, heat beyond reproach, dumb politicians, pain teens, tobe hooper, chainsaw massacres, loudness and quiet moments and love, life, space, cherubs, emo’s, cheap peeks, odessa and grins.

double exposure.

dblyou can see, be, say, do two things at once. doesn’t mean either of them will be the better for it. may actually be worse for it. but sometimes duality mumbles quietly…something(s) part of both that make a whole.

blurred versions of boys, boyhood and birthdays.

Bomber H.happy birthday to this guy. sixteen he is, sixteen, oh no, it can’t be. has it been that long? i think he was seven in this picture, maybe six, but definitely not eight yet. doesn’t matter. i’m old, these boys are getting old, boyhood has escaped all of us involved. what happened to youth…mine anyway?

so yes, what a boy this boy has become. a young man indeed. so proud of what he does daily, the discipline, the insight to life, the empathy. i’m biased but he is one helluva kid. seriously, he has his own way of carrying himself that denotes a maturity that i’m not even sure i have. so, yeah, proud. pop.

so happy birthday, my boy #2. i hope i am around for about fifty more of these. my love to you always.

 

 

here, now.

crossing.weird at times, how images appear, then disappear just as quickly. one click of the shutter, usually hurried, shaky, not as sharp as you would like–but there… too far away, wrong camera but you still try to grab it before it’s gone, one frame on a roll of 12 then on to something else. just capture the here, now, if you can. and, you can.

 

we all wear different hats.

hats.

mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, lovers, fighters, friends, enemies, walkers, runners, talkers, sinners…there’s all those hats and more.

all the world’s a stage,…

the stage

“on stage I’m just me having a bad day.” –Nick Cave

 

kilroy was here.

kilroy was here.
sometimes what you think you are taking the picture of isn’t the picture, after all.