daines'n around

My car was covered in ashes this morning. Not enough to make me think it was snowing, and not nearly enough to do more than just blow off as I drove away for work. The hills are crying, and being tossed into the air by the violent flames. Our windows are closed tight trying to keep the ashes and smoke from entering our homes, but isn't avoidable.

We didn't need to evacuate, but the firefighters were on the hill all night long. I wasn't sure if they'd come and knock on our door at 3a.m. and tell us to get out because the hill had become fully engulfed. The cloud cover that rolled in yesterday afternoon must have helped.

I took a few photos when I first got home from work, then ten minutes later before I left for dinner. It wasn't flaming death, or violent, but an ominous cloud of thick smoke settled into our little valley and everyone stood on the porch wondering just when it would be their turn to face the flames of the apocalypse.

I was on the phone with a friend on the way to dinner. Our exchange went something like this:

"Fires, floods, hurricanes, bombs, terrorism, corporate control of government."
"You liberal."
"Yeah, but i mean come on, this is the apocalypse! We've got live 24-hour access to it, and now it is at my backdoor. What's next?"
"Jesus?"
"Hallelujah."

Something is missing.
I sat still for five hours,
and the world didn't move.

Something is missing
it must be light
i think i've lost it.

this morning as i lay in bed
i focused on the sky through my window
the clouds seemed to scurry out of my frame
from that angle

my floor is littered with notes
collected on napkins receipts and newspaper margins;
each with its own solution to my own word puzzle.

as the clouds ran from me
i grasped the sheet
in a longing manner.

The clock ticked slowly past one, and my sister was still awake. Dad's back east again this summer, so no one is around to tell her she ought to go to bed.

I kept running my hands through my hair and wondering what change I should make, because I was tired of the blonde look. View image. I'll save money on shampoo, that's for sure.

This past week has been interesting. I sat to watch Punch Drunk Love for the first time, and I think I slowly went insane and was cured of the insanity by the end of the film. I'm at an odd emotional place.

If that isn't an understatement, I don't know what is.

Tonight I watched Cinema Paradiso, perhaps one of the best movies I've seen in a very long time. Who knew I could understand so much Italian, even when spoken with a Sicilian accent? The subtitles are still a must though. Do I try and make that language four to attempt to learn in a comprehensive manner? Not for a few years, no.

My thoughts are a mess, I should lie back down.

my review is in today's paper!

lovely.

There's an echo bouncing around the hallway empty of furniture, bodies, or bills posted on the walls. THe clean hallways are sept nightly by an invivible crew, and I sit in my own isolation room, hoping someone will come and interrupt my zen moments of focused reading and photo editing.

The echo isn't just my thoughts, as those aren't so loud anymore. My music hits a sullen moment of calm peace. The echo is a voice, cascading through the door and awakening my senses. It almost seems dictated in slow motion.

"Every-thing will be okay"

But no one is in the hallway.

There are moments where I just wish the world would slow down, because I have so much to share in it, and time is always running short. Life is happening around me. Decisions are made and consequences set each day by everyone around me. Somewhere a child learned of their ability to read. Somewhere an infant was born today. Somewhere a life ended. Somewhere there was laughter. I imagine I can hear them all at once, occurring near me, but it is just the din of the freeway that runs by my home, captured in-between moments of melancholy yet triumphant silence in Divertimento, K. 131.

I'm almost caught up with my reading for school in time for midterms this next week. Let's see if I can sleep.

So, I made the horrible mistake of picking up season one of Lost on dvd from Netflix. I say horrible because I have quickly become addicted to this show. Not addicted in the self destructive manner, but addicted enough that I need something to happen in the show. Since nothing ever does happen, other than mounting tension on the weird little island, it's affecting my nerves. Please tell me a comet comes and just kills them all! Four discs down, three more to go.

My publisher approached me in the newsroom yesterday. Apparently someone tipped off a frequently visited nine inch nails fansite of my Hollywood Bowl review, and that article is now the most read article in the history of the online Daily Sundial. The interesting thing this shows me is how effective internet articles can be at gathering interest levels of the public. When you sell a newspaper, you have no way of determining which articles most interested viewers, or what most people suggested to others to read in the paper. But online you can get a very accurate account from the number of visitors, to the duration of their visits, and even a quick forum for feedback.

I finally got around to beginning the editing of the wedding photos I took earlier last month, and right before I'm going to photograph another wedding in two weeks. I'm glad I don't do this for a living at this point in time, it is very stress-inducing to run around the overstressed wedding parties, and deal with all of the egos needing to be satisfied. So far I've only photographed friend's weddings, and we are all still friends; we'll chalk it up to a few successes then.

"I need your information before you run out of my life for another five years."

Yesterday on campus I ran into an old friend, whom I hadn't seen in more than 5 years. She slowly walked in front of me and I couldn't let her walk by me without stopping her. I jumped in front of her and looked at her and announced her name with a big smile on my face. She let out a little yip of excitement and ran toward me. We embraced and expressed happiness in encountering one another again.

We lost touch shortly after high school, when we both had serious significant others and dreams about the future. She stopped college shortly after starting out of high school, I went to Brasil, and now, on a sunny day in the beginning of fall, we find each other. Before I had to go to class, I got her contact information.

I also managed to smile without being threatened or provoked yesterday for a few other reasons.

I stand, looking at a photograph I don't remember.
I am there, with others and no smiles; no... There is a false one.
It is a time that almost doesn't exist anymore.

I imagine myself making up a memory to fill in the photograph,
But even that is a stretch these days.
I'll make up my own memories when I start dreaming again.

My tin of memories still exists; intact after six years.
Ice skating, homecoming roses, concert tickets, movie stubs…
I fold my hands and wonder if there should be a fire of effigy.

Photos for those who were directed here by me last night:
CSULA Institute Halloween Dance

It started to rain this evening. In a sudden outburst the heavens sighed with relief and I just relaxed as the earth was washed. I didn't need music for meditation. The unpredictable rhythm entertained my thoughts as the showers came and went throughout the evening. It is nice for a change in the weather.

It was extra difficult to wake up this morning. Something is wrong. I don't know what it is. Something is missing, that I haven't felt in a while. I'd like to think that having it would make me feel better, but if I can't be happy with what I have, do i really have anything?

That might be easier to answer if I knew what was missing.

There is something bright in the future, because I have memories of excitement, and desires to have it back. I've just got to cultivate it.

A good long walk today helped me get a lot off my mind, and absorb a bit of the beauty of the world around me; even if that beauty is mostly Melrose Avenue, La Brea, and La Cienega. I got a few pictures before the storm clouds came in. It was nice, even in the rain.

I sleep soundly for thirty minutes at a time, and wake up thinking I'm late for something. I used to wake up to my alarms, now I just wake up to hazy eyes and a glaring green digital alarm clock and a sinking feeling that I'm missing out on something by being in bed.

I've wasted a lot of time online as of recent sleeplessness.

Myspace.com is quickly becoming the 'people-I-used-to-know-in-high-school' who are curious to see where I've ended up as if I were some sort of strange past tense idea of a person, instead of wondering what i have become. It's interesting to see where others have ended up. What others reveal they thought of me, the social introvert.

But myspace also has groups of people interested in what I am, music, photography, etc. Gone are the early nineties ideas of chatrooms and here are the bulletin boards that allow for documented communication. The evolution devolved so quickly; yet having done so for very good reasons.

I've also wasted a significant amount of time on LDSLinkup.com, a myspace-esque site that is similar in many ways, but different at the same time. It is heavily moderated and geared at LDS, Mormon, aged 18+ who want to communicate with people of suggest-able similar faith, desire, and ambitions. While the similarity may not always be easy to find, the moderated nature of the site makes it less prone to my theory regarding myspace.com.

The theory is that myspace.com is simply a manner in which prostitutes can branch out, porn vendors can expand their markets to even younger audiences with itchy click fingers, and musicians can feel special as it gives them a running total of people who click on their page everyday. Everyone wants to be famous.

Ryan Adams croons gently this evening; in his lustful and mournful manner he soothes heartache and headaches.
"Come Pick Me Up" from heartbreaker (released in 2000)
"La Cienega just smiled" from gold (released in 2001)
"Afraid Not Scared" from Love Is Hell (released in 2004)
"Avalanche" from Love Is Hell
"Cry On Demand" from Demolition (released in 2002)

And oh so many more…

There was a crowd at the bar last night lustfully drowning in alcohol while aspiring to an imaginary level of happiness wrought by chemicals and situational feelings of bonding. I honestly felt sorry for the girls working the floor, delivering drinks and cajoling those around to give her tips in order to sing drunkenly into the karaoke microphones.

I don't know why I went. My impulse reaction was to decline and suggest something that wouldn't take up so much time. Class let out early and the invitation sat in my voicemail like some sort of exotic unknown.

I was entertained people watching for most of the night. A few demonstrated irritation that I would not drink, but they soon forgot about me in their pleas to be next in line for the wireless microphones.

There were many highlights to the evening. The 21 year old who would not stop freaking out about having left her car in a parking lot in fear that it would be hit and be worth nothing. The man with a large pink my-little-pony tattoo on his left rib cage that spread over most of the left side of his torso would not let his pitcher of beer go. He held onto it for an hour. While most people divided their pitches between at least 4 people, he nursed his for a good while.

I was exhausted by the time we left. I hadn't really made any new friends, but I met a few old ones. Each time I go out to bars, particularly in these trendy areas of Hollywood I come back with a pessimistic view of the youth of the country. These are the people who will face the future, and they're lost in destructive self indulgent decadence.

Drawing a road map
on the back of your head
i imagine a place we'll be
beyond description instead

the road winds out and down
over lumps and forests
grappling for situation
we glance at your head and rest

but i've drawn the map
to an unknown location
and we'll follow it
until we've lost all direction

the road map in the
back of my mind
synthesized on the back of your head
just in time

School starts again in a few hours. I've felt as though this weekend was time away from everything that worried me. I spent time with my friends and my family, not concerning myself with school or work, the newspaper or other responsibilities.

I saw two movies this weekend in the theatre. It had been a long while since I last saw a movie in the theatre, and I was very much entertained by Wallace and Gromit’s were rabbit movie. I'll forever appreciate good writing and entertaining films, no matter the target audience.

Saturday I photographed Traci and Brendan's wedding in Fullerton. The experience was better than I had expected. And many of the photographs turned out well. Luckily it was overcast, and the 12:30 wedding was not inundated with powerful and harsh shadows, but a lovely soft light filled the courtyard.

I went on a date on Friday night, the first in a long while that didn't leave me wondering why I even bother dating anymore. Nothing life-changing occurred on the date, but it was easy to determine that we both had an enjoyable time and the event could be repeated a few times in the future.

I'm hesitant to open up for one reason or another. I'm so tired of being alone lately, that I'm not sure what I enjoyed more; the conversation itself, or the company as well. It was nice to have human interaction that didn't involve a keyboard or a telephone.

While the weekend has felt like a vacation, I have a slight resolve to start this week off by getting my act together on my newspaper stories. I have so much to catch up on; it isn't really like me to let deadlines slip by me without staying up nights worrying myself sick about them.

I also feel like writing something. What exactly I don't know. I know nanowrimo is starting up again next month. Would it be worthwhile to try and crank out a novel next month? I'd better decide quickly and get some thoughts down on paper.

Leave, me alone
the wind too cold
howling and screaming
chill me to the bone

Stop, telling my heart
i know what's best
you are what's right
we shouldn't start

Please, I'm just tired
waking up to the same
endless concerns
walking along this tight-wire

I, am outside
waiting for a sign
trudging in the rain
oh just let me in.

My toes are cold, and I just finished prepping the PowerPoint presentation for my visual communications class tomorrow, or later today. I'm not a big fan of PowerPoint, so this was just a headache to get organized. I'd like to say it isn't another one of those group projects that everyone loves to hate, but it is. I can only hope others in the class had the opportunity to prepare something to speak about on their photographic subjects.

I'll be giving a critical analysis on the photography Pulitzer Prize winner from last years awards, given to the collective Associated Press staff on assignment in Iraq. Their photographic examples can be found here.

Meanwhile my camera sits very silently in my bag; waiting for a moment of lucidity, or at least time to go somewhere interesting enough with free time to photograph it a little bit. I'm actually starting to become anxious for the end of the semester already, and it is only midterm time.

I have so much to improve upon. It is rare that I bring up religion in this journal of mine. I often feel that my philosophies of life and religion and beliefs are intrinsic to who I am, and the gradual progression (or regression) that is represented in the many flawed words I type out reflects my own beliefs.

Click continue reading to get into the religiosity of it all.

oh the days of youth
filled with ideas of love
oh insane moments

lonliness is free
to misery, company
give away love elsewhere

caught up moments
prisoner trapped to dreams
bodies speak only lies

do not give up easy
ceaseless communicator
possibilities await

Simple things, like the safe distance, or the prolonged stare spark thought. Simple things like the touch of a finger, an unexpected meeting, and an
'I-would-have-answered-the-same-way'
stimulate the nerve endings. Complicated things like deciding what to eat, trying to say goodbye, and hoping for the next hello... weigh on one's shoulders.

Life is simple. Life is complicated. Life is beautiful. Life is feeling alive. Life is a book worth investing the time in writing. Life is worth fighting for. Life is worth dying for. Life is death.

There is nothing simple about Hello.
There is nothing complicated about Goodbye.

At the moment when we think we could have everything figured out, we are asked the trivial pursuit question about Khrushchev that just makes us scratch our heads.

Figuring life out is beauty. Surviving ourselves is the complication.

But nothing makes me smile like strangers in the night.

Isn't it astounding, how quickly hopes can turn to fears? And isn't it amazing, how the future quickly becomes the past, whether we are ready or not? At least it is halloween. Maybe someone will give me some free candy.

I need to go on a bike ride.

happy halloween