Cogitations

Falling

2012-02-02T03:25:00.000-08:00

Saudade (the way it is)

2012-02-01T01:55:00.000-08:00

Shards (INFJ)

2012-01-22T10:14:00.000-08:00

'Cause It's Wake Up Time'

2011-12-11T10:15:00.000-08:00

Tom Petty's 'Wildflowers' is by far my all-time favorite album (especially while wearing headphones). Every time I listen to it I am whisked away to an imaginary place solely constructed from the album's symbolism, imagery, and sentiments. With each listen, that place in my mind expands and becomes evermore enriched. I love it.

Delirous Reflection

2011-12-09T20:06:00.000-08:00

After going on a business trip to Las Vegas, and in some ways as a result of my cumulative travels, I have arrived at these thoughts:

-I am happy with where I live right now. Though, it may be limiting in some ways, it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, and I am thankful for that. I appreciate this period of my life.

-Nature is real.

-Cities struggle to be real.

-Things are mysterious, and mystery is good.

-The present is important.

Recent Travels

2011-12-06T18:39:00.000-08:00

Flight seems to induce drawn-out and rhythmically beautiful mental states that arise spontaneously and are impossible to create through conscious effort.

disparate yet concurrent affectation

tangentially hallow

asymmetrically balanced

finality

Oldtimers in a Notebook

2011-11-20T14:25:00.000-08:00

2011-11-13T11:36:00.000-08:00

“What does a fish know about the water in which he swims all his life” –Einstein

Infinite Phantasmagorical Cognition Series

2011-10-30T23:33:00.000-07:00

Serenity

2011-10-25T02:17:00.000-07:00

As the scattered clouds gently drifted East and The Sun peered through their respective silhouettes, I closed my eyes and embraced the warmth that was engulfing my soul. I looked through the shadowed orange-pink skin of my freshly sealed eyelids and saw tremendous nothingness. I was experiencing whole peace. My thoughts had wandered to a place that does not exist. I was lost. I was happy. I am alive.

A Raccoon(s)

2011-08-24T19:14:00.000-07:00

Late August: New Trails

2011-08-21T17:45:00.000-07:00

Found a new trail to somewhere I have never been.

For Leo Marvin

2011-08-12T18:11:00.001-07:00

Butler Peak

2011-08-04T01:00:00.000-07:00

My day was pretty awesome! Mainly because I managed to make it to my favorite place in the world, Butler Peak. If you have never been I highly suggest you go right now. The way in which the peak was reached was a little different this time because I hiked up all the way from Fawnskin, which according to my best estimate puts the roundtrip distance at about 12 miles. Reaching the peak was strenuous, but the view was worth my sore ankles. The video and pictures below represent the expedition.

Iced Coffee

2011-07-30T17:28:00.000-07:00

Siberia

2011-07-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

My morning consisted of a trip down a creek trail named Siberia. It was exceptional. I went with my buddy Mikey, and we always have good talks during our hikes. Some conversation is light and consists of what animal is the absolute best, or where to build the perfect fort; while other discussions carry much more weight. Today's heavier digressions took place atop a cliff overlooking part of the inland empire basin, and most likely developed due to us both losing our dads at similar ages as well as being the eldest of our siblings. Part of our exchange consisted of bizarre and curious appearances our fathers have made in our dreams. Those sleep induced mysteries are too unbelievably intense and profound to put into words now, but I will say that it is comforting to fully experience simultaneous mutual empathy with someone. I am thankful and truly blessed to have such a friend in my life.

Thalictrum Alpinum

2011-07-26T22:36:00.000-07:00

I have a deep affection for alpine meadows, especially in Summer. Today, Bluff Lake was the destination by route of Caste Rock. The trail less travelled was definitely worth the perspiration. At one point during the hike, it was necessary to cut through a boggy, hundred-yard patch of knee-high forbs, resulting in a few scrapes to my shins and calves. The most memorable part of that trek, however, was the constant roaring buzz of thousands upon thousands of surrounding bees and dragonflies. Normally, I would be little wary of such an amount of insects in close proximity, but in this field I didn't seem to mind at all, and neither did they.

Charcoal Home

2011-07-26T00:43:00.000-07:00

Today, due to lightening striking within a mile of my porch, I heard the loudest thunder of my life. I then played soccer and baseball in the rain. Then, with my new pencils, I charcoaled my home and some landscapes. My evening concluded with a fire-pit that was fueled by restorative conversation.

Happenstance

2011-07-24T13:30:00.000-07:00

May, June, and July have been kind to my sights and I wanted to document those visual experiences.

(Yosemite Falls, CA, Highway 20, CA, Greenleaf Slough, WA, Glacier Point, CA, Table Rock, OR, Trinidad, CA, Humboldt Redwoods, CA, Patrick's Point, CA,Portland, OR, Table Mountain, WA, Boston, MA, Multnomah Falls, OR, New York City, NY, Columbia Gorge,OR, Big Bear Lake, CA, Sky, USA, Southbury, CT, Laguna Beach,CA Torresdale, PA)

Radiance

2011-07-19T19:04:00.000-07:00

Strata Aglow

2011-07-17T14:25:00.000-07:00

Murmur

2011-07-16T13:38:00.001-07:00

Dusk and Dawn

2011-07-11T15:51:00.000-07:00

Gorge

2011-07-04T01:24:00.000-07:00

Miracles

2011-04-14T22:19:00.000-07:00

Impending clouds produce the best sunsets. I must .........

Becoming

2011-04-03T23:24:00.000-07:00

As I write this I am still on that universal high from finishing a book. It always feels like such an accomplishment for me. Most times as I am reading I find myself a little anxious to read faster, like its a competition, like I should be. So I try to hustle through those pages. Inevitably, this never works, as everyone must know by now it's not hard to simply 'see words fast', but it is hard to assimilate the concepts between those blurred lines of text. I usually end up rereading for comprehension at my natural speed - comprehension and thought work at their own pace. Anyway, I am currently thinking about how exciting life can be. A friend shared a video of Joseph Kittinger leaping out of a helium balloon from 102,800 ft above the earth (he is actually more in space than within earths atmosphere) eventually reaching speeds of 614 mph, he was 32 years old. What an amazing feat, and so inspiring. I mean, yeah, when I was five years old, jumping out of a balloon from space is totally what I expected to do when I grew up. Unfortunately, life hasn't been nearly that cool (yet). Though, simply knowing that people are capable of doing such incredible things offers immense hope. Viewing Joseph Kittinger's inspiring feat has redeemed my dormant dreams. The movie "Wolds Fastest Indian" with Anthony Hopkins, also inspires this redemption. If you haven't seen it, the plot is based on a real guy named Burt Monroe who spent most his life building his Indian motorcycle while constantly maintaining his pipe dream of going 'real fast' at the famous Utah salt flats. Throughout the movie you see his dream seemingly being eroded away by obstacle after obstacle until the point where 97.5 percent of the normal population would have just given up. But he doesn't, he's an outlier, he sees his unlikely dream all the way through and sets the world land speed record on a homemade bike he built from parts he fabricated, at the age of 68 no less! ANYTHING is possible, and dreams disprove impossibility. I too have unlikely dreams, hopes, and aspirations that I'm working on seeing through, albeit slowly. Sure, life throws hindrances and barriers to get around, and in a way maybe my patience is being strengthened while my dreams are becoming crystallized. Soon I will be closer to my ambitions and working on new ones. I think being open to dream will naturally make life more exciting.

Aesthetically Inclined

2011-03-29T23:55:00.000-07:00

On what seems like a semi-frequent basis, I am momentarily left thrashed by a remarkable appreciation for all sorts of beauty. In these nearly daily moments, life stands still and I lose myself to become whole. Sometimes it's as though space and time disappear and I come to understandings that bring me as close to God as I can ever be. I think the awareness of beauty can allow one to inhabit absolute reality. I am oh so thankful for these eyes God has gifted me.

Internal Combustion

2011-03-08T19:35:00.000-08:00

Laughter warms my organs on a 20 degree evening.

Mourn

2011-03-07T21:27:00.000-08:00

A storm of peace has overwhelmed me.

Rest in Peace Grandpa Norbert

2011-03-06T22:29:00.001-08:00

-you are missed

Persevere

2011-03-02T19:01:00.000-08:00

Ways away from somewhere worth standing, amidst a hall of desperate things and feats to overcome, is a place never chosen but a place that somehow offers intangible importance.

2011-01-25T19:12:00.000-08:00

.
I am in desperate need to create
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.
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192.168.0.57 255.255.255.0 192.168.1 4.2.2.1
.

A Natural Progression

2011-01-01T13:09:00.000-08:00

It remains a difficult task to be simple when more and more things are added to our lives on minute-by-minute basis, eventually creating an ever engulfing web of complexity. Although intricacy does offer a certain richness and depth, I think we all appreciate and probably desire our once held and naturally occurring simplicity. Maybe a dissonance occurs because it is near impossible to view things the way we once did. Working backwards may be a start.

Illumination

2010-12-03T18:20:00.000-08:00

Books

2010-11-19T19:11:00.000-08:00

When books are in shelf they offer a certain aesthetic that I thoroughly enjoy. These bounded treasures are placed out there on display like dogs in a pound clamoring for attention - wishing only to share themselves with you. Each will tempt your intrinsic desire to learn and once curiosity triumphs and your chosen book begins it will leisurely reveal itself page by page. The information will then slowly seep covertly into consciousness. Finally, one day you are done, though never quite finished and the book is then shelved with the rest and put aside for another time. Perhaps, serving as a reminder as to how your brain has been permanently affected. Be sure to take note of and appreciate the forgotten books that have been nobly shelved away.

Familia de Bisonte

2010-10-11T23:42:00.000-07:00

The Mountains are Calling

2010-09-08T14:39:00.000-07:00

Sometime ago, I was shown that it can be very amusing to treat the town you live in as if you weren't from that place. This treatment has been curiously beneficial in livening the day-to-day of a small town such as Big Bear. Armed with this new found gift of naive perspective, one might find me walking around the village eating ice cream, admiring immaculate homes around the neighborhoods, enthusiastically wielding a boat, or out hiking the numerous trails of this valley.

As of late, the weather has been especially conducive for marvelous hikes as well as what I like to refer to as urban treks. Yesterday, I hiked the 2N08 to the 2N51Y, into the 2N10, which led me to the peak of Snow Summit. As the crest was reached and San Gorgonio revealed itself, I was left with a complete sense of smallness. A real "good-for-the-soul" feeling of glorious insignificance. In my joy I felt in-tune with God, I believe He was in the breeze whispering to me that I was supposed to be up there admiring His magnificent creations.

On the way back down, as my hamstrings were being pummelled into mush, I was reminded that, for me, there is a direct positive relationship between how much time I spend outside in the elements and my own quality of life. For this reason, a goal of 30-50 miles a week of hiking/urban trekking has been set. I am excited about this and hope that some of you can join me for a hike or two, or maybe even a genuine urban trek."In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." -John Muir

Nonsense

2010-09-04T17:56:00.000-07:00

Every so often a feeling hits so hard that it hurts to acknowledge. It builds its own place in your psyche and lingers until it is addressed. I am that place, except not sure how to describe a feeling that is both melancholic and blissful. If you mixed theses pictures together the result would almost describe the feeling. Warm and cold, wet and dry, polar but somehow occupying the same space. Nonsensical but oh so very real.

Continuous Life

2010-09-04T01:15:00.000-07:00

I'm alive. You're alive. Let's not forget, we are alive and get to experience a phenomenal and enigmatic gift we call life. We gonna be alright! It is mind-blowing to ponder life for what it is. I was just thinking how weird it is that we are even here to begin with, and that life is continuous, therefore never one break. Other than sleep, which is a whole other colossal topic, we start out as babies and continue living, loving, learning, and encountering life until we are shriveled old peeps and never once see the world from outside ourselves. What would it be like to escape our bodies for a time? Maybe dreams are a way to do that?

I will go to sleep tonight with hope for a dream that will make sense of my world and give clarity to tomorrow....

An Auspicious Autumn Antecedent

2010-09-01T21:05:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was cold and I was reminded of Autumn. To be in Big Bear from September through November is thoroughly magical. The air becomes so crisp that deep breaths remind your lungs how desperate they are for oxygen. There is a providential azure sky during the season that is unique to this exact location in the universe. The leaves will change and wither so fast that one never gets the chance to see the same scene twice. The smell of soot from last year's winter being burned away from freshly lit chimneys fills the atmosphere as if gifted to the olfactory. These sensations evoke a pleasurable nostalgia for times when life was too simple for rumination. I believe the change and harvest Autumn brings is innately recognized and appreciated by the body, mind, and soul. Be here.

Cartooning

2010-08-20T23:55:00.000-07:00

Beautiful Morn!

2010-07-16T14:59:00.000-07:00

Went out on Bob Pool's boat this morn and it was the best. The lake was beautiful. I have had little experience with boats so it is always such a treat to go out on one.

Days like this force me to appreciate the absolute beauty of this town. An overwhelming feeling of awe is unavoidable while floating in the middle a lake immersed in the elements.

Good Morning

2010-06-26T00:50:00.000-07:00

I had an unexpected and pleasant visit this morning. Just after breakfast I heard a faint knock on my door, followed by light scattered footsteps. So I opened my door and saw no one in my immediate view. But when I looked to my left and downward I saw none other than Owen in his Buzz Lightyear pj's. I asked what he was doing here and he replied, "noffin", and grabbed a spot on one of my porch chairs. I then proceeded to sit down and start a conversation. We eventually got to the topic of all the squirrels causing a ruckus around our neighborhood. He then told me that he saw a squirrel get into a car to get away from a coyote. I replied "Wow, that's amazing, I can hardly believe that." He said "yeah". Then in the distance I heard Andrea's voice say "Owen?", in a that unmistakeable maternal tone . He then jumped out of his chair and went back to his yard to meet her. What a funny/great morning conversation. I think the subtle things in our days are the most profound. I really enjoy living next to such great friends who are like family.

Silence

2010-06-15T11:35:00.000-07:00

Sitting at work with an unusual feeling of peace. Prayer is a powerful and mysterious thing. I heard a good sermon this week from Aaron Foor. The basic premise was about Elijah and him on a mountain looking for God. He looked in the fires, the earthquakes and floods, but God was not in those things, God was in the Silence. This really hit home for me. I think that we search for God in all the wrong things and if really we just shut up and listen He will be there. The sermon also touched on the fact that one of Jesus' regular disciplines was solitude. I think we can learn a lot from this, though we may find ourselves uncomfortable in the silence alone, if we let go of our sense of control we can hear God and be given direction, our hearts may be given Peace.

Transition-State Awareness Phenomenon

2010-06-15T00:04:00.001-07:00

So many mixed emotions right now. I have reached that strange feeling when you realize you are in a transition-state. You realize that which you want to get away from becomes that which you are going to inevitably miss, however, you can no longer cherish the actual normal present because you have become aware of the transition. There needs to be a name for this phenomenon, it happens with lots of things; for instance, when you are dreaming and start to sense that it is a dream and you hold on as long as you possibly can (though the the true essence of the dream has already changed) because you know that once you acknowledge that you are in control of this dreamworld you are no longer welcome in it. I feel like this happens in terms of our own understanding of life or relative comfortableness. For me it seems as though every time I have established some sort of general feeling of satisfaction, God hints to me "Get ready for I have plans for you in a new place doing new things, but I promise that if you keep faith, you will be thankful and safe." This theme of uneasiness has seemed to plague me, but when I think retrospectively I have had plenty of great times and have been relatively stable, I mean its not like I have had to worry about hunger or homelessness. I am working to embrace my faith and know that I am going to be okay, no matter where I go or what I end up doing. As long as Christ is the center of my life I will be better than fine. I need to let go of myself and do more for others. I think it is time to start taking some risks.

Lightning-Strike Tour of New York City - As told by Evan Persons

2010-05-18T14:37:00.000-07:00

Now that I’ve had a week to process (and recover from) our NYC excursion, to think that the following almost never happened truly blows me away. The last-minute nature of this trip makes it hard to pin down a precise starting point, so I think it best to begin with our purchasing tall cans of Coors Original and Miller High Life at the corner store where my Grandpa used to take me to buy Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle trading cards as a kid. To be clear, this event was preceded by a rain-soaked 6k foot race, brunch with the Andrews family, a caffeine-addled four hour drive from Boston, late night dinner at Turiello’s Pizza, a narrowly-averted skunk attack, and a whirlwind tour of every house I lived in and school I attended growing up. But since I know the end of this story – and this story ends with beer – the corner store is as good a starting place as any. So tall cans it is.

Normally, an NYC trip entails a Martini-fueled overnight at my Grandma’s apartment, but she was recovering from surgery, so I arranged for us to stay at my friend Sarah’s house – which wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that Sarah hasn’t lived there in years and the last time I went over was for a high school youth group screening of “Ten Things I Hate About You” when it first came out on VHS. Nonetheless, the frothing Rock-Star bile in my stomach indicated that sleep could only come from pounding a tall can just before hitting the mattress, so we stopped at “Lucky Convenient” and bro’d down with the lively Pakistani man at the front counter before pulling into what I was pretty sure was the right driveway. We had arrived at our destination hours later than promised, and having already kept our hosts awake far later than they would have liked, proceeded to keep them up even later by recounting every major life event that had happened since I last hung out with them in 2001. It was during this time that the beers in Curtis’ backpack made a barely discernable metallic clunking noise that only he noticed; but this incident rattled his nerves so badly that he refused to drink them that night, even after I explained that opening them under a towel would sufficiently mask the sound of cheap beer exploding in the guest bedroom. Curtis was so nervous, in fact, that he wouldn’t even say “NO,” in response to my repeated attempts at beer drinking, but would only mouth the word and shake his head like some disbelieving, curmudgeonly umpire. The drama was heightened by the fact that we were placed in separate guest rooms, and Curtis was worried that I had been in his room without making any sounds for far too long. Unable to sway his opinion, I retired to my bedroom and quickly fell asleep, but was awakened moments later by a frenzied text from Curtis that said (verbatim) “Hey! Tuen the hall light off I cant find it,” to which I responded “I don’t know where it is. And I’m naked. You’re probably gonna have to kill those beers and try to ignore it.” Curtis then proceeded to “dare” me to “go turn it off naked” – a proposal that I, having just gotten perfectly comfortable, regretfully declined.

We woke up a few hours later and headed over to my Grandma’s apartment on the other side of the tracks. After treating us to a Bobo breakfast and complimentary lecture on east coast ethnography/current world events, Ron – my Grandma’s boyfriend of 40 plus years – warned us that our “hickish” attire (and Curtis’ Unabomber outfit in particular) would make us a prime target for pickpockets – a recommendation that Curtis took quite seriously, as evidenced by his subsequent decision to store his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. After further conversation (and so much coffee that my eyes started to pulse), we started our trek down the Palisades Parkway, over the iconic George Washington Bridge and down the Henry Hudson in search of my favorite parking garage.

I’d never gone sight-seeing with Curtis, and it’s important to note that he holds to an unusual philosophy of tourism, which can best be summed up as “I don’t want humans in any of my pictures” and “let’s spend lots of time where no one else does and vice versa.” As a result, Curtis’ photo diary looks like screen shots from “I Am Legend” and our (literal) 30 second tour of St. Patrick’s Cathedral was followed by a 30 minute game of catch in Central Park. The plus side of this approach is that we completed the following in one hour and forty-five minutes:

1. Applied sunscreen (liberally)
2. Slogged through Times Square and took obligatory “This proves I was in NYC” pictures (much to Curtis’ dismay)
3. Paraded around (and briefly stepped inside of) St. Patrick’s Cathedral
4. Laughed at the philosophical naiveté of the Rockefeller quotes proudly displayed at the Ice Rink
5. Discussed which building would be the worst to fall off
6. Talked about how much we love Bob Pool
7. Got free pens at NBC
8. Rode LOTS of bumpy trains
9. Evaded honey nut salesmen in Battery Park
10. Cringed in the shadow of the WWII Navy Memorial
11. Snapped blurry pictures of the Statue of Liberty
12. Thought about hot dogs
13. Gawked at the Merchant Marine Monument
14. Charged in and out of Trinity Church
15. Turned up our noses at Wall Street
16. Stood under an enormous statue of George Washington
17. Talked about hot dogs
18. Tried really hard to “see” Ground Zero
19. Ate the best hot dog ever
20. Tip-toed across the Brooklyn Bridge
21. Watched a fixie dude plow into a group of Euro kids whose gelled hair, wire-rim sunglasses, tiny cameras, zipper-neck windbreakers and complete lack of remorse made the collision all the more hilarious
22. Solemnly pledged to get more hot dogs
23. Spotted Brooklyn “versions” of our Big Bear, LA, Redding and Portland friends
24. Laughed at a gaggle of douchers waiting in an interminably long line for Grimaldi’s Pizzeria
25. Chased our wind-blown map through the rolling hills of a riverside park
26. Got the stinkeye from a tricycle cop

It was at this point that Curtis finally looked at his watch, and we realized we had time-travelled. And not the kind where Doc gets gatted by Libyan terrorists and Biff tries to date-rape your Mom, but the kind where you realize there is theoretically infinite time to eat more hot dogs. And this got us pumped. So pumped, in fact, that we took a train to the 34th street station.

Curtis wanted to see the Empire State Building, but I hate heights, so I sent him up to hang out with some pigeons while I drank beer in the lobby. We were tempted to get more dogs when he returned, but decided instead that it would be a great idea if we accidentally got on an express train to Harlem. Exiting at 165th street, we caught a local train back to 81st and walked past the Museum of Natural History, the American Heritage Museum, and a bunch of shitty Grateful Dead flags before arriving at The Dakota, where a Catcher in the Rye toting Mark David Chapman murdered John Lennon in 1980. Curtis proceeded to tell me that George was his favorite Beatle, but he still consented to an obligatory stop at Strawberry Fields where he waited behind a flock of Japanese tourists for a picture of the “Imagine” memorial. This was followed by a brutal game of catch wherein Curtis gave me a dilapidated glove that barely fit and proceeded to mercilessly punish my palm with pitch after unforgiving pitch until I finally convinced him to put the ball away and do a photo shoot on a big pile of rocks.

The sun was falling quickly, so I suggested that we ditch the park before any “hipster vampires” arrived. We’d been (unsuccessfully) trying to decide on dinner all day, and with our NYC departure time already pushed back farther than I’d hoped, I started to wonder if it might be better for us to grab something on the way home. We walked to the subway entrance, and I called Nancy for advice while a homeless black man bummed a cigarette off Curtis. I confess that I intentionally allowed my conversation to drag at this point, if only to prolong Curtis’ sense of total discomfort, which was further amplified when his new companion refused to leave after procuring his prize. While I wrapped things up with Nancy, both stood motionless on the curb, their eyes transfixed on some invented point of interest on The Dakota’s roof as the smoke slowly curled into the air and disappeared. This lasted for a very long time. And then the man asked Curtis for a piece of gum.

Back underground, Curtis lamented this awkward exchange while we caught a train back to the 34th street stop. We had our sights set on a meal at Anthony Bourdain’s “Brasserie Les Halles” restaurant, but knew that this would mean dodging a lot of tempting hot dog carts on the way. While sharing a bench with a coked-out hipster version of Streetfighter’s Guile, we agreed that a lack of openings at Les Halles would be our cosmic confirmation to embark on an all-we-could-eat hot dog dinner. We exited at 34th and began sprinting to Park Avenue south, pausing for a moment in front of a giant poster for KFC Double Downs, which inspired severe hunger pangs and unripe “double downs syndrome” jokes, among other things. When upon arrival, we found the restaurant open and near-empty, it was with a hint of regret that we sat at our dimly-lit table, excited for the culinary treats that awaited us, but lamenting the fact that our last hot dog had in fact been "the" last. We grabbed some booze and proceeded to order crostinis topped with melted brie, honey and fresh-cracked pepper, followed by an accidental order of raw steak (graciously caught by our waiter), then flatiron steak with green peppercorn sauce and a char-grilled beef burger topped with melting foie gras, black truffle and red wine sauce. Between the appetizer and the main course, we accidentally got someone else’s meal for a few minutes: a bunch of fries (which we sampled) and a huge steak that I poked in an honest effort to determine if it was a hamburger without a bun. The food was exquisite, and Nate sent us hateful text messages in retaliation for our decadence.
Hours later, our bellies heavy with clarified butter and animal fat, we strolled out of Les Halles and into the high winds of an unseasonably cold evening. The next half hour would feature reckless sprinting, a final farewell to our 34th street hot dog man, a mystery E-train to Bryant Park that wasn’t supposed to be running, a late night jog through the now-luminous Times Square, and a brief pit-stop at Starbucks for a caffeine load. We had initially planned on leaving by 6:00 so that we could be home by 10:00, but it was now close to 11:00, and my dreams of grabbing several hours of sleep before going to work on Monday morning were quickly being dashed upon the rocks of bumper to bumper traffic on the 95. After sitting motionless for what felt like hours, I finally lost all composure, and began hysterically cursing the state of Connecticut (whose border we had only just crossed), and hatefully disobeying the GPS in a series of moves that landed us in an abandoned truck weighing station, where I drove around aimlessly and screamed profanity for several minutes. Having blown off some steam, I then cut loose and improvised an outlandish new route that, while adding mileage to our journey, at least offered the opportunity for thoughtless speeding and a game of “iPod Guilty Pleasures” that included selections from Pantera’s “Cowboys From Hell,” along with Somnium and a slew of shameful bro-metal and pop punk garbage.

Despite his jetlagged advantage, I think it safe to say that Curtis was in bad shape when we finally skidded into my driveway at 3:00am. His tone, once eloquent and serene, had devolved into maniacally incessant orders for a recap of the day’s events, and these were followed by thigh-slaps and uncontrolled gurgles of laughter regardless of my response. I honestly had no idea how we’d made it home. It would be several hours before I called in “sick” to work and headed out for a mid-afternoon breakfast of KFC double-downs and Dunkin’ Donuts prior to a transcendental afternoon at Walden Pond; but the charcoal-black sky and the soothing rustle of sugar maples in the cool night breeze created a hunger that could only be sated by 48 ounces of foamy, trunk-warmed tall cans, which we funneled greedily into our gaping, weary maws as we bid the dark adieu.

BACKWARDS MAN

2010-05-07T22:55:00.000-07:00

If

2010-04-25T17:46:00.001-07:00

Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Good Day

2010-04-23T00:00:00.000-07:00

Very, very good day today!

Shambolic Skyscrapers

2010-02-26T13:57:00.001-08:00

Nourishment

2010-01-16T02:27:00.000-08:00

Apples & Oranges

Oranges & Apples

Frigid

2010-01-14T01:59:00.000-08:00

The wind chimes are chimin'

a storm's in the breeze

I can't find the feelin'

that once came with ease

Placid

2009-12-17T00:04:00.000-08:00

After 15 days more needed to be let go,

now I can sleep.

Unperturbed

2009-12-16T00:04:00.000-08:00

14 days of work without a day off leads to a need to release,

I feel better now.