New Low

The soundtrack to my life.
Cheers.

The Boy with the Huskey

Another mundane day seemed to be unraveling. "Icky Thump" blasting in the car seemed to get my mood into a higher realm of life, I could have said I was happy at the moment just listening to Jack's sexy vocals. I put the left turn signal on at the main intersection that was nothing more than an average ill designed shopping plaza for dollar stores and quick marts that aren't open 24 hours.

While studying the red galvanized steel roof of the plaza I could only think that this light seemed to take forever. A huge Husky started crossing the road before me. In tow, the massive dog was walking his owner. A cute boy in his late 20's or early 30's, hipster garb on, knit hat, a slight beard and bright blue eyes. I'd bet there was a tattoo of some sort inked on under this cool dark green jacket. As the beautiful blue eyes beast continued to drag him in front of my car we made eye contact. I couldn't help but laugh at the site of this handsome man and his dog, and the total lack of control he had over the creature. He didn't stop looking at me. He passed my car and turned his body backwards to keep locked in. Now he was being dragged backwards. I was waiting for him to fall on his ass; he didn't. He made it safely to the other side of the street and stood there on the corner like a little boy watching fireworks. I pulled my car up a bit to get a better look at him. He was standing there and waving at me. Cute grin on his face and staring still. I knew i was turning some shade of pink on my face as i felt heat run up my cheeks. We stood there for a few second, gazes locking in intensely. A few long seconds ticked by like Meg's drum beats. It was a perfect moment. The shortest date I have ever been on, but nevertheless it was perfect. He was perfect, I was perfect. We said nothing and promised nothing.

The light turned green, I had to obey and turn even though I wanted to stand there for a few more moments to see if he had the balls to walk over and be ridiculous. To leave a number behind my windshield wipers and have some crazy Serendipity moment. Nah, we were both too cool and too proud. Maybe we'll run into each other at that cool hipster bar around the corner? Perhaps. This was more than enough, though. Looking in my rear view mirror, I could see him still standing there and watching my car drive away. I waved.

Thank you boy with the Husky.

The Cave

It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Umami

The Phantom taste.

umai "delicious" and mi "taste


That flavor most non culinary homosapiens can't put their finger on. The clueless sense that they enjoy it's ability to induces salivation and a furriness sensation on the tongue, stimulating the throat, the roof and the back of the mouth making them drool and come back for more. But the don't know what to call it. Sweet? Sour? Salty? Savory? Perhaps these same mammals don't have the ability to sense what makes a person out of the ordinary. What makes a person physically and chemically connected to the other. They just know they are amused, entertained, simulated, and if life were a Facebook account they would hit "like". In this department we go from Umami to Aura, a luminous radiation that surrounds each one of us. That something that most cannot see nor sense because they are so desensitized and over stimulated by the constant filling of the mind with useless and toxic temporary escapes from reality, life and their spirit.

There is a power so strong for some in connection that they are bound for life, with or without the other half. It's very real, chemical, the phantom flavor of the soul, an invisible thread linking them like satellites. When the night falls and all noise turns into black silence, the static of life subsides and lets our soul wander in our minds, opening doors to the things that matter most; we find it there. The soul-mate we have been searching for yet block by the constant bombardments of human turbulence, the temptation of Neverland always around the corner and the lack to hone in on the things that matter most in life. Walking empty shells we have become, only haunted with the distant sound of the ocean and not swimming in it any longer.

Just standing still, focusing on the moment, feeling energy and strength sit a top your skin and fill a room is more magical than a bar crowded with the opposite sex drooling over nothing more than physical appearance ( not that we mind;). Finding that fifth taste, the mystery of it all, the passion to find it... it stirs only those that want a life that is filled with such joy it can bring one to tears. That sense of overwhelming passion and love that we think of as fantasy and have problems searching for it. It's found in the sounds of silence, the still of traffic lights, the slowness of home cooked meals... the flavor of your lovers skin and your ability to internalize it. To have a life above the rest, to be aware of things that are not visible to most.

Bon Appetit

sunrise

7:13 AM

Treading Water

Head above water; swimming vertically, and feeling every muscle searing with flames with every second that goes by. Seems like eternity is taking it's time. Head above water; I'm still here, I am alive, breathing and surviving in a body of water that will have me if I chose to surrender. Head above water; the pain becomes a form of comfort, a reminder that I will be rock hard when I swim to tame dry land, when I chose to. I will walk out on shore with the mind and body of a Goddess. Every curve strong, seductive, oozing with confidence, strength, and a raw feverish power. My mind will be clear, aware of the survival training that broke me down and rebuilt me into a tank. Baptized in the viscous ocean waters, I am reborn into my new form.

sunrise

7:14am

Little Lion Man

There is something to be said, positive, about a man that can admit that they fucked up. The problem is there aren't many of them.

Rolling in the Deep

Luscious inspiration.

Warpaint

Sunrise

6:21am

Lent

40 days to think about it all. All of it. A deep meditation of light. Focusing on the life that runs voluntarily through our veins. A rising from the dead from all the things that weigh our existence down with negative energy. A "letting go" of sorts, a vacation for the mind, body and soul. A spiritual cleansing that allows us to focus on things that are the good around us, right, pure, honest, sacred, and clear.

I've made so many amazing mistakes in life. Hopefully through reflection I can find a way to rid of negative patterns and cliches that seem to cling to the heal of my shoe like toilet paper. I was never a materialist. I can safely say that I have always wanted a practical life with enough but never too much. The thought of having an abundance of anything is foreign to me. My inner reflections are found down the hall and to the left. The two doors that are adjacent to each other. One with the sign "love" hanging on it and the other door with the sign "art".

I've opened the "love" door a a few time in my life. Usually on lock down and a big Doberman barking behind it. Being in a solitary spot now, I can see who was the "one" I let go. The blue eyed, dark hair, god that would have scaled mountains for me whom now has two beautiful kids and a gorgeous wife that makes his world spin. I was stupid. I could have had happiness? Perhaps that is all in my mind? We all have that moment in life, when all sours and our lovers depart from us or visa-versa, we think of the one we let "get away". I remember one amazing man telling me of his love in college. He was so happy that we found himself crying out of sheer joy while taking a walk in the forest with his lover. He left her because his entourage thought he was too young and should go and sample what the world had to offer. After all that sampling he finds himself in solace as well.

When does the search end? If it's that good, simple and uncomplicated, why do we find ourselves fall victim to judgments of others and their standards instead of to what our heart tells us? (By uncomplicated I mean compatibility and not situational predicaments. Life is never without complication. Let's not be fools.) I can only gather that through all the dreary gloom there is light if you want to see it. One has to be in dark to know what light is. In love and art, in life.

So I sit here with the same question again in my head; Did I let a good man walk away because I was young and stupid? Did he let a good woman go or would they have out grown one another anyway? Perhaps, but we wouldn't have the knowledge we have now. Some tools for living a better life come with a heavy price tag. But they help you build a better house for the future. For some reason I do subscribe to the belief the universe will conspire to help you if you know exactly what it is you want. Simply hoping you stumble into the right person at a bar doesn't fit the bill. Perhaps it's in front of my face? I don't know, I can only follow the light and meditate on love and art in general. Everything seems more clouded when we are young. Looking for all love in all the wrong places and expecting a custom written life script from Hollywood. We project our desires on people we would want to see ourselves with forever, even qualities that the person doesn't posses. Later, we come to find out they weren't what we expected. The the prom queen/president of her sorority was a hoax and the handsome man with the perfect career and life ambitions decided to change his perspective on life.

Light: We see it after a journey through many turbulent storms and still take the risk at our hearts ambitions fully knowing it can get cloudy within seconds. What persistent creatures we are.

So cheers to 40 days of finding light and beauty. There I will reside.

Oh, the art? I didn't forget about that door. All the best work comes from the transition of dark to light. It is adjacent to love. They are neighbors. Seems that music is the best example of how intertwined the two are.

Times Like These

Sunrise

6:22am

Kaleidoscope

When I was young I fell in love with a handmade kaleidoscope. I don't remember the artist that made it, however, i do remember it was at the Santa Monica Pier Art Show. Hand painted a high gloss black with purple drips resembling that of designs in your latte foam at your favorite gourmet coffee shop.

The outside was nice, but the inside! Oh the inside was beautiful! Perfection every time i looked into it. The most brilliant seashells ever. All so exotic, so unique and small enough to fit into the cylindrical container that magnified the stunning vision to the X number. He didn't pick the shells by handful and toss them in. NO! I could tell that these shells were especially picked for this scope. Connecting the inside with it's outside. The creator mindfully designed the meaning of this very simple toy to work as one and reflect as one. Like a god creating the perfect man or woman, he created each one with a different personality, a different wit and a different soul. He made a new life out of remains of what was once living.

Far better than any video game or plastic tit-kabob doll. It was nature dancing in circles in unique patterns that never repeated themselves. Always something new to look at and always beautiful. SO simple, so amazing and such a rare instrument.

I have it til this day. I've caught myself crying just holding it in my hands. Because really, how simple is the true beauty in life? They tell us to stop and smell the flowers. But who are they? And do we really know what they are talking about? Most assume it's a moment where we can slow down? Perhaps we have it all wrong. Slowing down is not stopping. It means you are still moving but slower, and even that is relative to how fast we are use to living our life. No, stopping mean just that. Stopping cannot be relative, it's a definitive. It's a point in time where one is forced to observe and hopefully reevaluate everything around them. Standing there, kaleidoscope in hand, and simply allowing yourself to experience true moments of beauty. To find it in the midst of all that is wrong around us and isolate it from the bad and evil that has us running in circles that are far less beautiful than the inside of a kaleidoscope.

Maybe, if we all practiced on our own kaleidoscopes, we would be better observers of people and life. Maybe we would be better? Maybe we would see clearer and spend less time making mistakes because we were too caught up in societies standards of when we should be getting married, having babies, and careers.We should be more selective of those we let inside our lives, our hearts, our cylinder. There is something to be said for those that can stop and admire the simple beauty around them and understand what they are looking at. Those that take the time to cry over a kaleidoscope, I suppose, as if it were human.

Sunrise

6:24am

Normal

"...normal is a phillies t-shirt and cheese steaks," he told me.

I had to comment on this because I am so far removed from the norm it seems. I am so abstract. I see the allure of having that normalcy, of cheering on the home team. But as I participate, with a smile on my face nevertheless, it feels foreign. It's like going to a different country and being the observer of some grand parade. A pleasure to watch but still a failure to understand the excitement of not actually taking part in the game, of being the observer and living vicariously through those that are experiencing it first hand. I guess I'm not the communal sorority/fraternity mentality type (say that one fast three times in a row, I dare you, I double dare you).

*SIDE NOTE: Nor would I ever want to be. I feel paying for companionship and having some organization in one's resume is a useless and pretentious thing. Bottom line: Fake. A lie. An insecurity so deep it manifests itself into actually being comfortable with living force fed corporate dreams and feeling a fake sense of accomplishment, security, and status. I guess one needs that in a world that rapes their drones endlessly of their your soul, morality, and humanity. Can people actually be charitable to those in need without taking credit for it for once? Can one have money and drive an average car? Can our generation actually have a marriage that lasts longer than a few months? Do they even know how to have a companion and put them ahead of their career anymore? I feel it's a down fall of our time, an epidemic of lost people that want more and more and don't know when enough is enough. To the point that they are like fat house cats toying with a poor mouse they caught just for the fun of it. Just to kill time. *END OF SIDE NOTE

So going back to living vicariously through watching your favorite team sport(I know I am not a linear thinker, nor do i claim to be. Think of my mind as the movie "Inception". It all makes sense in the end. LNOL ).Nothing wrong with watching sports. It's just manner in which they are watched translates, into some deeper manifestation of what the "norm" has become. I'm not saying I don't think people should enjoy a few good hours of tuning out and washing the old brain from a hard days work. I'm saying I don't understand the excitement about it, the obsession. The insanity that comes with such "normal" things. I do however, understand the adrenaline rush that is experienced on the playing level; the reality of it all. Now we are talking. Not to be the observer, but the participant. The rush of flying down snow covered hills or getting bombarded by an 8 foot wave. I am talking about the difference between those that "watch" and the very small percentage of those that "do" what those that watch would never be able to do due to the simple lack of sheer talent or just the lack of balls, effort and dedication. Those that "do" are not the norm, it's where my understanding is most accepted. It's my norm. We are the abnormal by society standards. The artists, the non-conventional thinkers that make things and change the world, the athletes, the thespians, the entrepreneurs, writers, and those that have an uncertain income for the most part because they cannot fall servant to the wall street mentality of the world. The blunt rejects that are the square pegs in the round world. The ones that speak their mind and build things with words, images, with their hands, with their mind, body, and soul. These people, at least to me, are the ones that know of truth, honesty, loyalty, and love on a different level. They seem to be in tune with the individual contact more so than the "norm". Perhaps they don't obsess over the next world cup, the next world series, or play offs. But they get more excited about their next creation, their next dinner they will cook for their loved one/s, the next wave they catch, the next painting they paint, the next book they write, story they tell, dance they choreograph, the next adrenaline rush, next training session, the next time they see their lover, and so it goes on. The investment of time and enthusiasm into life. To dim the over paid, over advertised, over pumped bullshit corp America forces down our throats and cheer for the most important things around us. Our very short lives. Our passions. Our ability to be amazing people. It has all been stolen by The Jersey Shore, Sports that we watch and don't get out to play anymore. Is this the "norm" ? The Phillies t-shirt and a cheese steak? If so I am most happy to be abnormal. I am more excited about a nice glass of red, a dinner I have been thinking of all day after new concepts for a shoot, and yet, I can still kick it in front of the tube to watch a game on occasion.

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” Leonardo da Vinci

Man has complicated the simplest things in life that should be most beautiful. Priorities, love, and virtue have fallen victim to the front line of American pseudo-intellectual corporations promising a morally edited "American dream" for the small price of their souls.

French Lilac

I smell like french lilac.

The Silence

I sit there in the void of sound. The universe hugs my body like a lover.

Freed Wolf

I am a free wolf. You can tell by the three pawed trail I leave behind in the blood tainted snow.