" gooooooosh! "

---

since when did getting a wild hair up your ass and trying to make a positive large step have to feel so daunting?

trying to gather all the right materials together, letters of reference, and a pocketful of get-to-it-ness attitude that'll propel me past this procrastination.

wish me luck.

---

juillet 07:


juilet 08:


juillet 09:


---

" chubby belly, stout legs, empty pockets, happy heart "

---

after the 50th consecutive game of bedazzled blitz on the ole fazeboo, i was rousted up from my slumbery early afternoon stupor by ben s.(roomie of the moment), and went on a bicycle adventure!!!!!

over to the brooklyn bridge, through lower manhattan to century 21 where they totally didn't have any useful pots that i could cook in. i bought a shower liner.

onward we went up to pearl river where i got some dish towels and bowls for cereal and food and basically everything. who doesn't love eating out of bowls!?!

then up to check out TOPMAN, where it was confirmed that i wasn't white, tall, skinny, or have any british fashion sensibilities. oddly enough, every single piece in there wasn't up to snuff, well, my snuff. i'm sure many other folks there were knee-deep in the snuff of their dreams.

since i needed cheapo-ish boxers due to the launderette being closed for the holidays...we slipped into UNIQLO where it took me sooooo too long to choose a total of four pairs of them.

you'd be surprised how off-putting the wrong combination of plaid is when you envision it on your body. the bag it came in was so cool, i decided to take it even though i usually put all things in my big-ole-chrome-bag; i think i'll make it into a super book cover for some dreamy tome.

not to neglect the stomach, we went southernly to the saigon bakery where DAMN! i completely forgot that it's closed on mondays. nooooooo! with a moment of gripe inside, i remained resolute to purchase a two-fer of garlic (two meshpacks of 5 heads for $1), which kicks ass, because now i can cook a boatload of garlic for my belly tomorrow.

deciding to just make a jolly go of the rest of the afternoon into the night, we ventured uptown to bryant park to scope out the situation with the free movie night; they screened "dog day afternoon." right as we got to the park, ben blew the back inner-tube of his slick purple fixie; a byproduct of having to backbrake so often.

it took us sooooo long to find and walk to the metro bicycles semi-nearby, but they were cool there, and after a quick swipe of the plastic, we were back off to the park. he broke out his tools and bikenerded his ride back into working order. no time for a movie! no space anyhow! off to get some chickenwings!!!

if you're in and around 19th st in between 6th & 7th ave.'s, leaning towards the 7th end...hit the F up out of Tebaya. glorious glorious terryaki chicken wings on a bed of rice that make your mouth suckerpunch your tastebuds with savory deliciousness. we rode, we noshed, we were sated.

the last leg of the ride-all-afternoon-ride, came in the form of a meandering cross-city jaunt to the east parkway, down to chinatown, across the manhattan bridge, and back through the dark city of downtown brooklyn until finally, eventually, we made it back home.

beautiful ride, beautiful day. with body flexed and released, with mind engaged and focused, with bike used and shoes abused, the ride came to a wondrous finale in glass after glass of clear fresh cool water.

---


---

" in all your pursuits of awesome "

---

never stop believing, never stop hoping.
never stop exploring, never stop experiencing.

never stop flying, never stop being grounded.
never stop photographing, never stop editing.

never stop loving, never stop living.
never stop tasting, never stop listening.

never stop holding, never stop letting it go.
never stop feeling, never stop letting me know.

---

juillet 04:


juillet 05:


---

" and empty room brings "

---

a glimpse of the endless possibility, reflected in it a physical space which is paralleled in both the outside world as well as in your life.

---


---

" jimminy! "

---

diclaimer: pretty ill bloody dream below

i had this really restless night's sleep last night. i'm not sure of what i dreampt of, but towards the end of my sleeping times, i remember very vividly murdering two individuals with a short hunting knife.

they were harassing a friend of mine at this ramen noodle counter somewhere, and making her feel uncomfortable to the point of public shame and ridicule. it was excruciating to witness.

i told another friend of mine to give me his bowie knife, which he produced. i walked right up to the two men who saw me approaching, and told them to leave my friend alone.

they spit on my and laughed like evil toads. for some reason, all of that ill treatment solidified what i had to do.

i went for the closer of the men first. he had a stout face which was shadowed by his frame. i straight prison-shanked him with the knife, deep into his chest. i felt no remorse, and was pretty calculated. his chest became a deep red pool, and i stabbed him a few more times.

after i saw the fear and shock on his face, i knew that he knew he had done wrong, and that he was going to die because of his actions. (pretty effin'rough!) i grabbed a clump of his thick brushy hair, and bent his head back leaving his neck exposed. in one powerful slicing stroke, i cut open his throat and tore it from his torso.

his fellow cohort stumbled towards me with rage and fervor. i grabbed his left arm at the wrist, pulled him towards me, and let his forward momentum guide the knife into his heart. he too had the same look of shock as his compatriot.

with deft blows to his chest, he fell to the floor and the dream ended with me standing there proudly with blood all over my everything.

i've never had such confidence wielding any sort of weapon in real life, and most definitely never had an inclination to do anything mildly close to these actions towards anyone. but, it was a little eerie finding myself awake in my bed this morning, my fists clenched and heart racing.

---


---

" ends of eras "

---

no more glares when i yell her name into the apartment.
no more raucous laughter piercing through the hallways.

no more musical melodies.
no more lilting lullabies.

no more click-clacking of heels upon the floors.
no more opinions-needed of various outfits.

no more tavis smiley afternoons.
no more saturday WNET 13 movie night.

onward and forward we eventually go,
into the familiar unknown.

time for a new nest to be built,
this bird has flown.

---


- good luck out there jaygee, make me proud -

---

" the new description "

---

sitting at my small desk near the window in my apartment, i regard the weather patterns outside quite often.

sun on my face in the morning slowly creeps across and through my room, until it slips past and into sunset, as if a patient dark hand has stolen the light.

recently summer has arrived in a thunderously wet and raucous manner, usurping the brief spring, and staking its claim with endless rain and curiously uncommon muggy nights.

if i had a description of what summer in new york was supposed to look like, and feel like, it has drastically taken a shift to the unpredictable.

the damp weather which has become the summer of 2009 so far, also brings with it the potential for more insects a-crawlin', mosquitoes a-bitin', and clothing options a-confusin'.

more days spent with a sense of wonder at what manifests in light of incorrect predictions.

more nights in the streets holding aloft makeshift newspaper-umbrellas; the sounds of smacking flip-flops and small groups huddling in close echo through the avenues.

---

juin 29:


juin 30:


---

" the saddest dream tonight "

---

i was splashing in a city swimming pool with a friend. the pools all lay in long rows along the main canal, so if you want to swim to work, you can just hop over a shallowed connective area, and float down to your eventual destination.

my friend decided that he wanted to follow these two girls down to the mexican transit portal. i was pretty adamant against the activity, but decided to go along because he wanted to check these ladies out so bad.

their names were sandrine and julia(na), and were studying in mexico, but vacationing. they looked luminous and radiant in the dark waters of the main canal. we floated for a time, and eventually made it to mexico.

the mexican portal canal was deeper and had turbines underneath the waters which produced electricity for the homes which lined the outskirts of the city. my friend gave me a weighted look and slinked off to some canal-alley to talk to sandrine.

julia beckoned me to float down the river to show me something, and i obliged. i did some water somersaults, and could hear the deep resonant sounds of the turbines below. i asked her what happens to the water that gets diverted from the canals here in mexico, and she decided to show me.

she took me to this secluded pool of the darkest blackest waters off to the side in a cordoned-off courtyard. i was unsure, but she seemed so confident, so i followed. we snuck into the pool through an exposed opening in the circular fencing. lowering ourselves into the murkiness, i felt an overwhelming sensation of pleasure and happiness clutching the core of my body, then echoing throughout every nerve.

she said that this was the secret of the turbines; the production of the electricity for the people had produced these magical healing waters that were so powerful, that they had to be removed from the main canal, so that the government could retain a semblance of control over the people.

she said that access to such pleasures, feelings of power, light, confidence, and happiness created unrest and dissatisfaction.

---

we lingered in the pool for a short time longer, then heard a shuffling of feet coming from a nearby alleyway.

she motioned me to get out with a worried look on her face, and i rushed to the opening in the fence; she was right behind me. as i passed through the threshold of the fencing, someone shone a bright light into my face, and then over to julia, who was half in, and half out of the fence. she was caught.

the person with the light turned out to be a member of the secret police, and they took her away from that pool. the look on her face was utter despair, heavy with the knowledge of what this meant.

the dream itself shifted and time passed on. i became a vapor spirit that followed her, and she felt my presence, but didn't dare look to me.

she was put in a jail, and forced to weave complex patterns into small swatches of material for handbags. it was the slow monotonous punishment that given to those who committed crimes of the heart.

---

after years went by, the stack of swatches grew more higher in the corner of her spacious emerald green and copper rust cell. the patterns more lush and bold; the geometric shapes and lines creating whole universes of escape for the mind, but never for the body.

one of the guards offered her a beautiful leather handbag with turquoise stones sequined on the face of the main flap, silver stitching creating beautiful pathways through the stones, and a silver clasp which looked like a wave or the wing of a manta ray.

it reminded her of the beauty in the world so far away from this one. it reminded her of the waters of the canal that she loved to swim in, and her friends. it reminded her of me and wondered if i was okay. it reminded her of how she would never be allowed out ever again of her own will.

knowing that she didn't love this guard as much as he regarded and favored her, she took the bag to win his favor, but not his advances.

---

many months later she saw an opportunity for escape. the guard, having finagled his way to be her sole watcher, offered her a chance to leave her cell if she would marry him. julia said yes, knowing this would be her last chance, but she never meant to fulfill his wishes.

he blindfolded her and took her out of the cell. she could feel sunlight on her skin and she began to cry. they began a transit that took her far away from the cell. with every minute which passed, she could feel her strength returning. it felt as if a great weight of a thousand horrific nights were lifting off oh her shoulders.

the car stopped and he let her out of her seat. she could hear the unmistakable sound of waves. the vibrant sting of salt chemistry hit her nostrils and she inhaled as deep as she could.

unable to control herself, she started running to the noise. the guard's hand was holding the blindfold. and it tore away from her face. she stumbled in full motion towards what she could see now was the sparkling beauty of a clear ocean. it was an overwhelming sight which was immediately desired.

as she hit the edge of the water, her feet sinking into the shifting sand below the waves, she heard two loud noises behind her.

a great weight built up inside her chest and shoulder, and it felt as if everything in her body ceased to function. she fell in the sand with her full weight, and she held her hands to her torso, revealing a blooming wound. the guard had shot her and was wailing loudly, tears running down his cheeks.

she smiled slightly knowing that he had perhaps meant well, and could see the humanity though his ever-present cruelty. she forgave him in her head, and she died among the overlapping clear waves.

---

i was an old man now, having been sent back to my life, my punishment was to lose 50 years of my life to old age. the portal had been tweaked to age me to the point where i would never return.

and they were right, i never returned; the pain of that night so constant and yet the meaning so elusive.

i was attempting to cook something that i had prepared the night before. opening the door of the refrigerator, i was met with the stench of rotting food. what was once a clean and fresh dish of food was all now green and held a deeply earthy scent of detritus and moisture.

as julia lay on the edge of the ocean, her life leaving her, i felt her ghostly hand on my shoulder. all that pain revived within her touch, no longer soothing, and i knew that she had passed into another world.

i stood there in my kitchen, staring into the emerald abyss of the now rotten jungle of food. julia's spirit lingered in the dark corner of my empty home, her haunted spectral presence locked in a constant state of sorrow and mourning.

---


---

" thunderstorm apocolypse "

---

weeks of rainy weather systems culminated last night in what was one of the most quixotic displays of cloud patterns.

it was as if the thunder and lightning had slowly welled up over the entirety of the month of june, unleashed, then provided an atmospheric spectacle for everyone to enjoy.

and although it lasted the short span of 15 minutes, it was well worth the horrible horrible weather trade-off.

everything in transition.

---

juin 24:


juin 25:


juin 26:


juin 27:


---

" you may have made some mistakes "

---

sitting in the back of the pickup truck, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had forgot something.

camera? check.
passport? check.
pocket money? check.
keys? check.

closing the cellar door with a deluxe padlock to insure that the intergalactic trans-dimensional alien entity slipping continuously through time and space will not escape?

damn.

---


---

" i will not let you down "

---

she held his hand in hers. it felt warm and familiar, like a sunset falling into place beyond a visible horizon.

he could hear her whispering things to him; sad, tragic, and at times muffled things that caused him a great clenching and furious pain throughout his body.

he did not know what to do or say, so he stood with her, quiet and shaking, in a shared unyielding terror.

there were tears. there were many tears. and also there were whimpers, and cries, and a vast desert of unsatisfactory questions answered with quiet 'i-don't-know's.'

nothing was right, and the day sunk into dusk while cars passed below to unknown destinations where there were no problems or hurt.

she felt his teardrops on her neck becoming streams, which trickled down along her right shoulder-blade, and came to rest in the shallows of her lower spine before being absorbed into her clothing. she let go of him and thought to herself that nothing would be the same ever again.

after a while, there was nothing left to say, so they sat in silence, apart and affected. neither one of them moved or made any whisper of a sound for what seemed like eons.

above, the planets sighed and lamented never being able to ever again be embraced by the wide field of stars.

---


---

" summerstorms across the city "

---

where has my summer gone? just torrential rains, highspeed wind gusts, and a cool melancholy demeanor abounds.

where are the ices and popsicles? where is the sunshine, the kites, the picnics, the roofBQ's? where are the hot sticky days and the humid stifling nights?

where are the midday third showers and prickly heat powder applications? where is the sticking the head in the refrigerator?

where's the languid afternoon rockouts and the waking up on the roof of your building? where did you take my summer?

---

juin 20:


juin 21:


---

" bleeding beautiful beets "

---

i love to cut their leaves of at the top of the bulbous root. i love to wash and scrub them with my little vegetable brush, then use my kyocera ceramic peeler to remove the dips and canyons of their imperfections.

i love halving them, then quartering them; the beetjuice staining my fingers, the stainless steel knife, the cuttingboard, the countertop, and occasionally the floor.

i love to cleave just enough into them that the knife lodges deftly, then tilt it against the body of a beet to rend two pieces apart. the sound of this dense earthly thing rending apart is completely satisfying.

i'm not sure how many different and amazing ways to prepare beets there are, but i am pretty sure that i love to roast and boil them.

and overall, i love love love to eat them, one perfectly tended-to piece at a time, then imagine them changing the inner-chemistry of my entire being.

---


---

" so many things "

---

my brain,
my heart.

so much pain,
so much rain,

it's an end,
it's a new start.

---

juin 13:


juin 14:


juin 15:


juin 16:


juin 17:


juin 18:


---

" two letters "

---

dear (analogue) television broadcasting frequency,

i know that in the past i cursed at you for the many nights of snowy picture quality, ambient noises instead of soundtracks, and shoddy white noise salt & pepper reception, but still i must acknowledge and grieve at your eventual departure today.

you have brought so many people joy as well as made so much money for the antennae and aluminum foil industries.

i hope that in your imminent intergalactic journey off into the wide silent unknown vacuous reaches of outer space, you will look back upon us from time to time, and think fondly of our time spent together.

it wasn't always the best of times, but i am happy to note that for years now, we have shared a great many of them together.

to the grand voyage beyond understanding,

bay

---

juin 11:


---

dear delicious multiple margaritas,

thank you so much for the warmth, the all-over my-body curious dappling of red splotches that resemble unknown alien worlds with plentiful topographical qualities.

thank you for the dream about me riding a familiar dreamscape transit system to a destination unknown. i took many portraits of friendly riders, and had my bike as well, which helped immensely when i took a long detour to meander my way down to the ocean.

thank you for the dream about finding a job to come up with an idea for a commercial advertisement for $275, only to eventually find the perfect person to pitch an idea about something else to. the grand idea was an imelda marcos-themed lotion line for filipinos and a broad range of ethnic skin. i think it was inspired by my roommate, but you definitely helped.

thank you for the dream about helping a man find his wedding ring in the sand of a distant beach; he never found it, but thanked me so many times for trying to help. i found a ring in the sand for him that had a thick clear band with a jade green carved flower on it, and he said it wasn't his. i felt bad, but proud to have found a ring in the sand so quickly.

thank you for the dream about finding the love of my life in the waters of a still lake, surrounded by a thick landscape of brush and tropical trees at dusk. even though it turned out to be a spirit inhabiting a shell formed to seduce me into the lake, i never felt any harmful thought towards it. and for a short time, it was a beautiful interaction, only made melancholy and somber upon the discovery of the deceitful trait.

thank you so much for your slow poisoning ways that accented my nightly slumbers with so many magical images. i shall never forget you.

love,

bay

---

juin 12:


---

" we'll meet again, some sunny day "

---

dear success,

battling the way through the thick veil of it all, with the hope of finding you at the other end. it's not enough to pine, or to fight. it's not enough to want or desire.

it's not enough anymore.

i've held your hand at times so briefly, it remains a bright vibrant hope inside of me, and i persue you with a multiplying fervor.

how many more nights must i think about creating work, w/out the need to set it aside so that i may find the means to fund it?

how many more days will i sit in my chair and wait for those blissful days to come, thinking that i deserve it, when in reality i deserve nothing that isn't earned.

i see you there, through the darkness and the shadows of formidable unseen obstacles. you shimmer and shift in a lovely glinting pattern that soothes and woos from afar.

i see the impending happiness, traumas, voyages, loves, and tragedies all in your embrace.

i see you waiting for me there, and i believe.

'til we meet again,

bay

---

juin 09:


juin 10:


---

" the best news of the day "

---

awesome filmset designer woman contact (not her screen name, but it's true!): hey! i meant to tell you how much EVERYONE loves your work!

baystar23: whaaa? cool. wow, thank you so much.

AFSDWC: the designer, my boss, is in LOVE.

baystar23: how did they print out?

AFSDWC: they look great. and got them framed too.

baystar23: that's nice to hear. yay. 10 points for you!

AFSDWC: for you! i'll send you photos from set too so you can see how it looks. and when we wrap i'm going to get the framed prints to you if you want them.

baystar23: cool, thanks. that'd be sweet. that's great to hear the good word on the prints.

AFSDWC: i thought you'd like that!

baystar23: sending you good vibes for the rest of the show, and its successes. whee!

AFSDWC: thanks!!

baystar23: always got more images for you whenever.

AFSDWC: awesome. thank you!!!

baystar23: you're doing amazing things all the time. talk to you soon.

AFSDWC:aw. thanks! yes. soon!

---

tonight's homework:

if you've been putting off or planning to make someone's day, go ahead and do it. the wonderful feeling of warmth and happiness that it'll no doubt spread throughout your collective beings, is well worth it! go go go!

---


---

" i woke up to you this morning "

---

there, in the near distance, are the faint warbling sounds of a marching band meandering in through my window on a slight breeze. i can hear them louder now. they are playing "when the saints go marching in."

the trumpets are loud and brassy. the trombones out of tune. the tuba sounds like he is tired and his playing is jutted, forced and weary.

the woodwinds sound like they are playing while marching, and taking their collective breaths at the wrong moments. i can surmise either that they are youngsters, or veterans.

they're passing me now. i'm taking their photos out of my window, and they are most definitely old men. veterans of past wars; their battle-cries echoing in their hearts and memory, their remembrances and experiences still vibrant in their hearts.

as they march along, it is apparent that there are so few of them around. there are family members in tow and in total, perhaps around 45 people comprising their meager numbers. it's a soft flurry of red emblazoned band uniforms and green felt veteran caps, bracketed in at the head and tail by police escorts.

the company is lost now, walking blithely down a road which has no distinct endpoint. with their pride intact and their blaring reverie sounding true and out, they march along to an unknown end.

tonight's homework:

gather together with your friends and fellows, and create a marching parade of your own, internal or external.

---

juin 05:


juin 06:


juin 07:


---

" filled to the brim of the hilt "

---

if you sit at home while everyone is out in the world doing something, you're possibly doing it wrong. i don't want to say with absolute certainty that you're doing it wrong, but you could be.

the sun's light falls and flexes in a path parallel to your window, so there's no excuse of the light's path to obstruct you from getting up, and getting out.

it wasn't raining hard today; it's drizzled a small amount throughout the day. there was no excuse for you to not go out and shoot something anything everything, a thing.

if you remain indoors and inactive, a perpetual wishful dreamer, a desirer of not much, a sloth, a mule, a tree stump awaiting, then you won't see the magic in the world outside your doors, let alone outside your room.

there are enchantments dancing and preening in the wide open. there are crevices and curiosities meandering beyond the threshold. there are wonders and magic looming o'er and you'll not be a part of it today.

you won't see none of this spectacle today, because you're going to sit indoors and slump and then eventually sleep.

or will you?

---


---

" today was an indoor kind of day "

---

brief conversations here and there.

breakfast at 3pm: 3-egg omelet with two fistfuls of kale, some broccoli, zucchini, and caramelized onions, all drenched in sriracha sauce.

the first wave of a gentle rainstorm passes through. after the storm passes through, it smells wonderful outside. clean and refreshed.

internet use. chatting on skype, gchat, aolIM, and FB chat. brain overwhelms at 6pm.

WNYC over itunes streaming daily news and shows. i'm not sure i can make a donation during their spring drive.

booked some jetblue tickets to and from some places, dreaming of travel in any form at any time, near or far.

another storm passes into the night, another omelet for dinner. only two meals today with snacks throughout.

now that night has fallen, and the day is coming to a close, i find that even though i did little, i feel like i had a very rich and fulfilled day.

it's a curious and satisfied feeling.

---


---

" duuuuuuuuude "

---

dude, i don't care what anyone says...ugly betty is a delicious show.

i'm saying it.

delicious.

---


---

" because you deserve it! "

---

good things will come to you. great and amazing things will come to you.

stupendous, engaging, wondrous, mighty things will come to you. resplendent, beautiful, romantic, bright, elevating, harmonious, exquisite things will come to you.

they will gravitate towards you. these good things. to you, they will come.

they will come.

---


---

" a half-year gone "

---

you're gone; the first half of this year. bye bye and adieu.

i'll never see you again, unless in photographs and memory. i'll think of you most fondly, and focus on those, our fleeting beautiful moments.

you were cold to the touch earlier this year, with your fierce snowy entrance and your piercing embrace. it was a long period, but i'm glad we got through it.

you warmed up to me, and we made it through. optimism overwhelms my entire being, and while i look forward eagerly to the many adventures ahead, i will not forget our time together.

it was a time.

it most definitely was a time.

---

mai 30:


mai 31:


---

" who knows what goes on between these four walls? "

---

i just spent about 8 minutes in my kitchen threading this oversized rubber band-type thing into the lid of a chinatown tupperware, before thinking to myself,"what the hell are you doing...who cares about this crappy lid?"

but as always, after finishing the menial slightly frustrating task, i felt an immense sense of self-satisfaction. i looked at it for a moment, proud and calm, then fitted it back on the box portion of the tupperware and placed it back into the refrigerator.

---


---

" the neverending story is rad "

---

how many people will know you in this lifetime?

how many times will you hug someone and mean it?

how can you sleep knowing that someone you love is out there alone?

how will you say hello tomorrow?

how different is your inner Self than your outer Self?

how will you love?

how will you hold?

how will you live your life?

how how how how how?

how will you know what the right thing to do is, at the right time?

how will i find you when you need me most?

---

mai 26:


mai 27:


mai 28:


---

" sunnier days "

---

you can never take it back.
you can never move forward.

you can always call me anytime.
you can always tell it's store-bought.

you can come with me if you want to.
you can stay home if you feel like it.

you can miss me forever if you need to.
you can stand alone with a shawl in a ditch.

you can leap.
you can soar.

you can dream.
you can kiss this.

you can go on a bike ride with me if you'll stop lying.
you can lay with me, no harm in trying.

---


---

" blithely walking into it "

---

nothing short of amazing. this is the category of the immediate present, and the ever-looming future times.

nothing short of spectacular, of optimism, of presence and grace and eloquence and love and desires, and all things that are good.

yesterday was perhaps one of the most beautiful rewarding days of the spring yet. delightful weather + farmer's market wanderings. post-hipster parents with puppies and babies searching through the stalls for fresh-baked loaves of grain breads, fresh strawberries, leafy greens, waxy vegetables, and artisinal cheeses.

went with an old friend, met up with a new one, and invited a passerby old neighbor over; never again the familiar stranger. you never know how rewarding just listening to someone is, until you see how alike and complex we all are in our thoughts, actions, wants, and heartaches.

we want to be held, we want to be strong, we want magic and mystery and challenges and romance. we want quality and substance. we should demand this from everyone that we choose freely to be in the company of.'we are all in this together,' is a term that comes to mind.

we talked, lounged in the grasses in the shade of a tree, while kites floated above and whispers of poetry murmured about below. it was a beautiful day, and times were had.

tonight's homework:

think hard about what things you want in your life; think about what energies you want to hold within and around you, people you want to interact and fumble around with, foods to consume and sustain you. think about all of these things, and then completely and honestly implement those qualities into your life with no compromise. homework for life.

---

mai 20:


mai 21:


mai 22:


mai 23:


mai 24:


---

" dead air "

---

sometimes there are no words left to describe the state of your being.

---

mai 16:


mai 17:



mai 18:


mai 19:


---

" oh brave new world "

---

there is so much to be said about the need to travel the world. to see the people who live in other places, and to have the opportunity to not only observe, but interact and reflect.

for my young years, i've had great opportunities to see a lot of the world, to live in at least one other country, and because of my love of different cultures, by default become an amateur foodie (at least the love of eating part, sans snobbery).

get thee to the wide world then! there are a great many wondrous things to see and do yet.

as promised, here are the daily photos from the second half of my travels.

tonight's homework:

make a short list of places you are interested in traveling to. for exploration, for culture, for outdoors activities, for leisure, for pleasure, for life, for love, for just because. make that list, and then seek out the how, when, and where of it. maybe i'll meet you there.

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avril 16:


morning mist forms and looms, clutching against the distant mountains along the train route between the northern city of lecco and the fashion capital of milan, lecco(near lake como/lombardi region) to milano-milan

avril 17:


an older couple look on as the red M1 red line stops at the loreto station, milano-milan

avril 18:


million dollar yachts line the harbor in the south of france along the mediterranean, cannes

avril 19:


one of the shops lining the 'cours saleya' flower market in the old city part of nice; the sign reads "south-east fish store," nice-ville

avril 20:


coins of offerings laid upon point zero, better known as the "belly-button" of paris, which rests in front of the notre dame cathedral, paris

avril 21:


onlookers and forever mourners flock to the grave-site of jim morrison at the cimetière du père lachaise, paris

avril 22:


a view towards the plaça d'espanya from the steps of the national museum of the art of catalunya, parc de montjuïc-barcelona

avril 23:


a couple sits along the backside of the maremagnum (a mall) located in the port vell (old port) area, barcelona

avril 24:


ice particles form a crystalline structure on the outer window of a swiss airline airplane, en routefrom geneva, switzerland to NYC

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" spring pollen is a cock "

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it's too breezy to just let the window open, yet it must be done as i have a small room. pollens and springtime floaties make their way into my mouth and eyes, into my nostrils and down my throat.

the eyes water, the throat dries and rasps. the head feels as if inside a vice and the sinus pinches. the neck and how tight is is. the respiratory system and how failed it becomes.

springtime is so pretty, but it has made me lesser than, albeit in one of the more beautiful displays of nature.

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mai 14:


mai 15:


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" the most beautiful blur "

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can't do more than i can.
can't please more than i please.

can't be less hurt when i am.
can't help but to release.

can't run.
can't fight.

when you're wrong.
and when you're right.

and when it's all over,
what will we have
left to say?

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mai 11:


mai 12:


mai 13:


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