Friday, April 29, 2011


How to speak to her? I knew baby talk, I knew toddler chatter, but this prepubescent language is foreign to me at forty. 42.

I understood one thing, "When can I kiss a boy?" This pain shot down my arm, stroke induced by worry. I feel helplessness before Time and its changes.

No more Chuck E. Cheese, no more three little piggies, no more solace I suppose. If I premember, I would see everything turned out brilliantly. Better than hope could have planned. But this mask of the present is dark and scary and who the hell is Trey Songz?

Beneath the surprises, mood swings and painful questions, is a force of nature. A brain like a sun converting base elements to light. Sometimes it warms, turning winter green. Sometimes it burns the skin. "Not until you're 18."

Didn't want to be a saint, just wanted to be close. Close enough to walk to her. Close enough to understand her, close enough to scare the boys away. Now, I'm just very, very brown, sunburned by my daughter.

Photo: Sennheiser HD 202s taken with iPhone3Gs, Hipstamatic app (Salvador 84, Blanko Noir)

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Confidence Game pt2

So the conversations steeped, sweeten with a little humor, a little personality. Weeks later I stir.

Way down the middle of the train platform she stood, as unassuming as chamomile. I slowly drift toward the aroma. She boards, sets beside some dude. I post, delaying the inevidable.

"Hey, haven't seen you in a long time, how have you been?" It goes on like that for 10 minutes. Then I begin to stir, availability, possibility - dinner? iPhone keypad gets tickled with digits.

Would like to read her leaves, if I could, see what stories they tell.

Photo: Glass and spoon taken with iPhone3Gs, on board camera app, Lo Mob app

The Stream! Social media/news show.

Friday, April 22, 2011

One Bad Apple

Where has the love gone? Alot of ya'll are new to the game, I know about that Mac SE in college back in '87, I rocked the Centris in '93 and feed my family with the graphics work. It was beautiful.

Here in 2011 I find that Apple is tracking me. Where is the love? Since at least iOS4, Steve has been collecting latitude and longitude data on every iPhone and iPad user. Data that can be accessed by anyone who can access your mobile or computer.

When I read this on Twitter and then Gizmodo, that Apple 1984 commercial came to mind. You 'member - the bleached out white dudes marching toward that huge screen with Big Brother shouting on it.

Then the riot police chase this woman with a John Henry hammer into the hall where these drones are seated. She hurls the hammer at the screen destroying it, freeing the minds of the masses. Inspiring, but that was 1984.

Here in the twenty first century the interpretation is clear. The mindless drones are the Apple faithful (me once). The riot police is Apple, Inc. and the woman with the hammer are the jail breakers. Today Apple is the State! All power to the ppl!

Photo: MacBook Pro on glass table with photos beneath taken with iPhone3Gs, Hipstamatic app (Chunky, Cano Cafenol)

Monday, April 11, 2011


God is round and everything created inherits that propensity. Even conflict is cyclical, gravity pulls, planets resist, the motions are orbits. Seasons are created, life and expectations of things that have come before.

My seasons resolve around my passions. The closer I get to my fiery core, the brighter my sky, greener my grass the fuller my bounty. Wildlife flourishes, I have plans for Friday night, etc. Then the season of forgetfulness comes upon me.

I start to drift further from Sol. Days grow shorter, nights colder, too cold to speak. Constellations like Aphrodite drift by without so much as a whisper from me.

But, stars do change and I remind myself of the god I once was. A beauty lost until I find it again in myself. Memory brings the sun round. Closer, I align myself with truths I produce like blossoms. Like attracts and beauty is compounded. I remember that work toward my star is near zero effort and I feel warm.

My own personal gravity serves me well.

Photo: Juggler in Wash DC in front of Gallery Place Chinatown Metro station taken with iPhone3Gs, Hipstamatic app (Chunky, Blanko Noir)

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Red Riding Hood

There was a dark wood I was trapped in awhile back. The light was blocked by people who didn't believe in ambition. They were crabs who climbed trees just to keep another crab from moving higher. They blocked out the sun, but they also formed a canopy for ambitious creatures like myself.

I met a fellow traveler from that wood the other day. She was clothed in cocoa leaves and smelled like fear. We broke bread in a place without trees and spoke of higher powers, miracles and such.

When I led her back to the road, she did not give me her eyes. Later, she stated her courage was fluttering, as if I carried a strong wind. I know it was just the city, but allowed her to draw conclusions. It was as if the spirits were telling me to remove the woods in my soul.
Photo: Crossing an intersection at twilight taken with iPhone3Gs, Hipstamatic app (Chunky, Ina's 1935)