well, umm . . .

hello.

_ hello.

how are things going? i only ask because it has been some time since we have spoken, and i imagined in my mind that there were some things that may be going. that is to say, events in your life perhaps have moved to a place where they were not at the moment of our last conversation.

_ you are correct. things have happened to me since we last spoke.

and . . .?

_ i am debating whether i will tell you about them. i have serious doubts that you even remember who i am, and even more serious doubts that you remember who you are. these doubts then create additional mistrust that you will retain the information that you are asking me to impart at this moment.

so . . . hmm. i love you and can't stop thinking about you. does this help?

_ of course. i've been involved in several professions since our last meeting. i have several occupations and interests. they are, in no particular order . . .

1. a staff singer at a college radio station in north andover massachusetts. i sing station break call letters, promotions for visiting musicians, class schedule changes and announcements for ice cream socials, biology seminars and hoagie sale fundraisers.

2. mattress sale sign holder.

3. waterer of plants in corporate office park spaces.

4. constructor of white and kraft paper bags. specifically, the 25# shorty super strength beer bag.

5. Donny Osmond. just to be clear. i am not working for Donny Osmond. i am Donny Osmond. i thought that it was time that you know this.

thank you for answering my question. i feel that i have a better grasp of who you are, what you are doing and what you are capable of achieving. your response has certainly fulfilled the desire of my query "how are things going?" now i know. thank you. also, i don't really love you. i am sorry for tricking you in that way.

_you're welcome. and i know you don't love me. i just like talking about myself.

ok. good.

move on.

when i took this photo, i wasn't really sure that there was anything else to say. i am always looking for textures. i'm looking for textures that tell different stories at different distances. form is different at 2 feet and 2000 feet. remember that magazine, "world" by national geographic i think. there was a feature in the back called "what in the world?" that showed a close-up of some animal or natural phenomena, and the following issue would reveal the answer.

in some ways, this photo is the fountainhead. it is howard roark vs peter keating. it is the answer to every colonial revival house in america with fake plastic shutters next to windows with fake mullions. it is the NAPA autoparts car with a hat on top of the cab. A HAT ON TOP OF THE CAB. it is a laptop computer with music player buttons as part of the hardware.

it is wheel of fortune continuing as a game show.

ok. good.

i mean, really. really?

hello. i have a small problem with something that you did last night. the funny thing about it is, we've talked about it many times, and nothing changes. i'm tempted to ask you "how many times have we talked about operating the AN/PDR 65 while the radars are in operation?" but i know that i'll get the same answer i always get. "i don't know" or "three million times." i'm not even asking you to stop operation of the GS/FU 75, or your personal favorite, the AN/PDR 64 (i'll never understand why you have not upgraded to the AN/PDR 65 permanently, it is far superior to the 64.) yes, yes, yes, i know the 65 has one small hang-up. you can't operate it when the radars are in operation. but really, how often are the radars in operation? certainly not enough to warrant an unauthorized operation of the AN/PDR 65. a little patience is really all that is required.

anyway, moving on. i hope you are well, and that we'll see you at thanksgiving this year. grandmother will be baking up a storm as usual. ok. good.

and . . . action

i was riding the train to boston from newburyport massachusetts. on a friday night. i barely made it in time and forgot to bring anything to read. the blackberry was on 2 bars of battery life and i needed to make some calls later. so i put it in my pocket and stared out at the tail end of the day that was receding behind the trees made evil due to lack of leaves. the conductor sat diagonally from me with a copy of the Herald and pen for the crossword. he kept getting up to call the stations and i desperately wanted to fill in some answers. rowley, ipswich passed, and i was getting bored. we came to hamilton and everything changed.

a woman got on and sat where the conductor had previously been. she was about 45 or 50 years old, looking a bit tired and haggard. she wore some obscure brand of athletic jumpsuit that had half-gloves at the end of the sleeves. it was navy blue with neon green stripes and accents. she wore beat canvas tretorn sneakers with a pink logo. her auburn hair was tied in the back of her head in some sort of victorian bun. what happened next was nothing less than mezmerizing.

it was another 30 minutes to boston. in that time, she literally put on her face. we've all heard that phrase "i need to put my face on." or "face that she keeps in the jar by the door, who is it for?" this woman unrolled a tool kit of mascara, eyeliners, powders, wrinkle creams and lipsticks went to town on her face for 30 minutes. she attacked it. in between applications she sent text messages, took phone calls and adjusted her sports bra. she explained to her friend that "steve" had called at the last minute and asked her to the celtics game. this woman threw on a body-tight track suit, beat up tretorns and ran out the door to meet steve, knowing full well she would have 30 minutes to apply her mask before reaching north station and the famed boston garden. there, she would meet steve, who would spend the next 2-3 hours staring at 10 men run the court, while the woman in the mask sat next to him.

i really became attached to this woman, and her process. i started out stealing looks at her via the reflection in my window, but near the end, i was flat-out staring at her. i don't think she ever even saw me, her eyes boring into her hand-mirror the entire time. holding it at different angles and making conversational expressions into it. i believe she covered every known emotion with her face to make sure that her makeup would withstand any reaction. and it did.

we reached north station and i walked out of the train behind her. i really wanted to tap her on the shoulder and wish her good luck. good luck with steve. knock him dead.

but i didn't. ok.

perception

i heard a fascinating conversation on NPR a few days ago regarding the need for religion. the main point stated that religion was created to explain things humans couldn't understand. we now understand more, so the need for religion to provide explanations has expired. of course, this does not address faith. you can still have that, if you like. ok.

call me

hello. my name is 1977, and i miss you. it has been some time since we have spoken. perhaps you have forgotten me, or at least forgotten my number. maybe you've moved on to another year, one that has different numbers, larger numbers or prime numbers. 1753, there is a good year, with prime numbers, ahhh, 1753. sorry, i digress. anyway, 1977 here is saying that i would love to hear from you. just use this handy device to look up my number. i think it is still in there. ok.

happy birthday

this may be the most perfect combination of items i have ever had the chance to witness. as you can see, it is a mangled birthday cake sitting on what looks like a puddle of urine, and a pile of dog shit. think about the messages being sent here. an image of sweetness and fun times and laughter and presents and the surprise on the office manager's face when we presented the last cake in the market basket bakery case to her, combined with a pile of dog shit. a pile. i love the way that this is described. it isn't a mound or a collection. it isn't just "dog shit." it's too small to be a heap and too large to be "a touch." it is a pile. a pile of dog shit.

so, here we are. happy birthday to anyone who wants a half-eaten birthday cake sitting in a puddle of urine next to a pile of dog shit.

wait a minute. i just had a thought. what if this cake was for a dog. a dog's birthday. this cake was presented to a dog in honor of it's birthday. and what did that dog do? it was so excited it squatted down and began devouring that cake. and in that excitement, the dog took a piss and laid down that pile.

i think i like this vision better. this is what happened.

ok. good.

when we are afraid

a few weeks ago, i was in columbus OH. near columbus, in Dayton, is the Museum of the United States Air Force. I did not know this, but was glad to find it out, as i had 2 kids to entertain for the day and this sort of thing is something they would enjoy. the museum is comprised of 3 massive hangars that contain military aircraft from 1918 to the present. a lot of scary material was on display, neutron and atom bombs, ballistic missles, and every type of fighter jet, bomber and combat craft created by the military powers of the world. the technology and the ingenuity and the overall design excellence was impressive, but as we continued to make our way through the hundreds of aircraft on display, one thought dominated me.

this is what happens when we are afraid. the motivational power of fear created some of the most advanced design and technology ever conceived. this is how humans work though. we don't bring our own bag to the grocery store because we are hopeful of getting a 5 cent credit, but i'm sure we'd bring them if we were afraid of getting charged 20 cents per bag. these theories about the power of fear are nothing new in psychological circles, but being in the presence of those planes, i felt their force. ok. good.

the situation

this might just sum it all up. ok. good. 

if you are interested . . .

there some things that people say. some of those things are so formulaic that they have lost their meaning. there are some things that people want to say, but just don't understand how easy it should be to do so. i made posters of those things and here are a few pictures. not shown is the version that says "hi. let's be friends. ok." the ink is same as "hi. how are you doing. good." the posters are 26 x 40" and are silk-screened. not hand-pulled however, so the ink is less thick but has a cleaner finish. if you want one, they are $50. that includes USPS shipping in the US. you can email me at adamcohn249@gmail.com and we'll do a paypal thing. that is about as advanced as my ecom strategy is at this point. thanks for your interest. ok. good.

you know what you did . . .

yes. do this. in the area. where is this, you may ask? it's the area. maintain silence there. it isn't that difficult. just do it. please just be quiet and everything will be ok. you shouldn't be talking or making sound anyway. the sign says to maintain silence. this implies that a state of silence should have already existed, and you are simply being asked to maintain that state. it is so easy, you didn't even have to do the hard part. someone else created the silence, all you have to do keep it going. what is so damn hard about that? here, let me break it down for you. you know that thing that is happening now, that silence? well, maintain it. keep doing it. don't stop the silence that already exists. ok, i think i've made myself clear. silence, stay. oh, and remember, this should happen in the area. ok.

shhh.

be quiet, just for a moment. stop talking and stop the talking inside your head or your heart or wherever. give the people standing next you that look. the one that will shut them up. do this to the people walking towards you as well. everyone please just stop making noise and sounds. stop.

ok.

now think for a moment about the air conditioning units in this building. think about what one sounds like. good. now think about what they all sound like running simultaneously. imagine that some are brand new, and others are nixon administration new. if you are all being quiet like i asked, then the sound must be deafening. think about a sunny day, but you are getting rained on. you are walking in front of this building on the sidewalk. these units are raining on you.

is there a rainbow?

ok. good.

fantasymindland

i was driving all night. i had decided to do this on the spur of the moment, and as many things that are decided upon in this way, once you get over the fear of the unknown and let go, a tremendous feeling of peace and reflection can occur. 

i had recently quit my job as creative director. it was an utterly stupid situation. it was determined that a certain variation in the blue color of our toothpaste client's product was necessary, because the current hue no long symbolized the freshness the consumer came to expect from bullshit product x. i built an entire presentation to the client and their board of directors around this subtle color shift, but never actually changed the color. packaging was reprinted, style guides and corporate brand standards were created. no one noticed the color hadn't actually been changed for 18 months. last week, someone finally read the guide and at least 27 assistant associate deputy directors at our client's global headquarters shit the bed, within several minutes of one another. so, i grabbed 5 packs of post-its, 2 boxes of medium-size binder clips and a handful of sharpies (fine point) and quit before being fired. 

so now i was driving all night, from washington DC to who gives a shit. i kept thinking about what a friend had said to me. she was talking about a place where all of the things she wanted to have and all of the lives she wanted to lead were happening. she called it her fantasymindland. holy shit. a fantasymindland. i think i was already there. i was floating down I-40 through tennessee, through the hills and past the ghosts of thousands of dead civil war soldiers and listening to modern ambient march song called sunday seance and i realized that one thousand feet above me some hawk or spy drone could see my headlights making their way along this isolated route and that i was there. 

and i had all that i needed, at least it seemed so at the time. post-its, sharpies, binder clips and a fantasymindland to live in. ok.

maybe

i don't know . . . do you? do you know what is next, or what is right? are you all just throwing it out there and seeing what happens, what sticks? are you so confident in what you are doing that your vision is laser-focused and nothing is getting in your way? i hope so. maybe mine will be someday. i'm getting there. ok.

the end of something

Weren't you there when the carousel burned down
The fire and confusion, the smoke and the sound
I swear you were there when the carousel burned down
We were all around
The rings charred and tarnished all over the ground
And the heads hung down
And we all left town the next day

The children all cried when the carousel burned down
The old ladies sighed and the carousel burned down
The rest of us lied as the carousel burned down
And the flames did fly
The pipes steamed and shrieked out a blazing goodbye
As the boiler died
And they melted down the midway
And we all left town the next day

— Todd Rundgren

out of africa

the dialogue below is from a scene near the end of the movie. meryl streep's character, isak denisen and robert redford's character, denys finch-hatton, and talking alone in isak's empty house. she is leaving africa. the two were together, but different ideas about relationships, commitment and love drove them apart. it is the first time they have seen each other, alone, in some time. he has asked to take her to mombasa, to start her journey back to denmark . . . isak says, reflecting on how much she has missed him:

I’ve got this little thing that I’ve learned to do lately.

When it gets so bad . . . and I think I can’t go on . . . I try to make it worse.

I make myself think about our camp on the river . . . and Berkeley . . . and the first time that you took me flying.

How good it all was.

And when I’m certain that I can’t stand it . . .

I go one moment more.

And then I know I can bear anything.

Would you like to help me?

Yes. (finch-hatton says.)

Come dance with me then.

more

this painting is entitled, Hope, II. the artist is gustav klimt. i have been an admirer of his for years, and spent some time with this work in nyc last weekend. i learned that he often called the painting Vision. either way, i could use a little of both. ok.

i don't know . . .

i don't know who you are anymore. it's like we are living on different planets. i'm on earth, and you are on blorgon 7, planning an invasion of my galaxy. well, i'm here to tell you that we will never be slaves, you can subjugate some other species to work in your blozillium mines. i realize that this may seem like some odd analogy as to how it is between us, and you are right. it's pretty fucked up. what the hell am i talking about? i think someone is turning a radio dial in my head, and different stations are popping up. all i know is, staring at you now, on these wide open plains, with mesas and cloud-shrouded mountains looming above us, i realize that my 401(k) is not working for me the way it should. i need to get a new financial advisor. well, that's not the only thing on my mind.
ok.
good.

cleanse

i went to the beach for an hour yesterday. sunday. late afternoon. i find that this is the best time of day to be at the beach, for me. the sun was blasting through clouds and the coastline continued its slow erosion into the atlantic. it was so soothing. the white noise of the process has a way of focusing and centering and i became the stereotype of a human looking to the sea for inspiration, clarification and a destination. i found some clarity, and left the other two for another time. ok.

gulp

so, about a year ago, i came across an amazing pelican paperback book cover in a second-hand shop in newburyport massachusetts. i had no idea what i was getting into. i used to collect zwarte beertje books from the netherlands. books illustrated by the famous dick bruna, of "miffy" or "nijntje" fame, but i was clueless about the pelican paperbacks. check out this link, phenomenal. these are two i found yesterday, i now have 4. more please. ok. good.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/acejet170/sets/72157600089984134/

i don't know.

hi. this image pretty much sums it up. up, down, on, off, round and around. who the hell knows? i wish did . . .

ok.

lost in . . . wherever

i was on a flight from boston to hong kong, via newark. an 1100 am flight from boston turned into a  530 pm wheels up, and then we didn't take off from newark until 800 pm. after 20 minutes in the air, a man in front and to the right of me started accosting the man behind him for touching the seat too much. 

"i can feel you kicking the seat, can i get some sleep?"

— "i'm not kicking the seat."

"you may not think you are, but i can feel it. am i saying it right, am i speaking s-l-o-w-l-y enough?"

and so on and so on with both voices raised well above normal cabin chat. the kicker looked at me for some sort of support, i just shut my eyes. 

on the flight, i watched "lost in translation" for the first time. amazing that i never saw it until now. i probably need to watch it again, but there were some parts that made an impression. of course, the end. what i appreciated most was the notion that, despite the entirety of their lives that they have to deal with, they could finally realize the importance of those moments shared. humans do not spend enough time understanding how significant connections can be. will they result in something much bigger? a friendship, a relationship, more? it doesn't really matter, but the experience needs to be recognized and social conventions need to be trashed. 

taking a chance and having something happen, is far better than getting in a taxi and just going home.

ok. good.

these things are sung, these things are heard.

blue line swinger_yo la tengo.

i didn't want to hear you, but then, there you were . . .

you, 

you won't talk about 

what we see when the lights are out

and i'm willing to hold your hand 

while you're lost,

while you're so full of doubt

walk for miles, on your own loose ends, 

i'll find you there

i'll find you there

you,

you walk up thin blue lines 

possible with reality

and i, i see through small red eyes,

glowing still at your uncertainty

out of the darkness you will come around, 

i know you will

i know you will

and i'll find you

and i'll find you there.

ok.

sunrise

it happens every day. many days it is obscured by clouds. today, it wasn't. i think i'm at the beginning of something. i really haven't been properly in this place for a long, long time. 

ok. good.

MSG FR U

when i first started writing here, i was planning on making most of the posts about language, communication, perception and reality. it hasn't really turned out that way, but here is something that gets a bit closer. i walked past this basement window yesterday and happened to look down at it. funny how things work, but then i guess i am always out to see something inspirational. i just love the way that this is abbreviated, and the process that made it possible. there is probably some elaborate typographic system the company has, font size etc. etc. and it was JUST NOT POSSIBLE  to have all words properly spelled out. or maybe, some young designer working there is slowly weaving a more "texting" based lexicon into the business. either way, i get the feeling this mayonnaise is infinitely better than extra heavy mayonnaise. good. 

back

hi. i'm going back to china in 2 weeks, to hong kong. i've been through that airport twice, but have never been in the city, ever. i don't think one should be able to say they have been somewhere if they have only stopped over in the airport. i haven't been in china since last september, and that is about all i can say. 

ok. good.

awwwww

the state of this sign over the past 2 months. i drove by it every morning on the way to work, and told myself i had to shoot it. i'm glad i finally did because now it is congratulating the local high school team for winning the state ice hockey tournament. in this photo, it pretty much sums up the winter. nothing going on. after the hockey thing comes down, i hope to put the statement, "BILLY IS A JERK" on there. i have no idea who billy is, but that dbag is a jerk. ok.

the calm

hello. yesterday, i read a short story by Raymond Carver entitled The Calm. it is set in a small barber shop, and most of the story is about the main character watching a conversation between his barber and 3 other men. near the end, the barber breaks up an argument, and all 3 end up walking out of the shop, leaving just the man in the chair and him. this is the final scene:

THE barber turned me in the chair to face the mirror. He put a hand on either side of my head. He positioned me a last time, and then he brought his head down next to mine. 

We looked in the mirror together, his hands still framing my head.

I was looking at myself, and he was looking at me too. But if the barber saw something, he didn't offer comment. 

He ran his fingers through my hair. He did it slowly, as if thinking about something else. He ran his fingers through my hair. He did it tenderly, as a lover would.

That was in Crescent City, California, up near the Oregon border. I left soon after. But today I was thinking of that place, of Crescent City, and of how I was trying out a new life there with my wife, and how, in the barber's chair that morning, I had made up my mind to go. I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I closed my eyes and let the barber's fingers move through my hair, the sweetness of those fingers, the hair already starting to grow.

love, loss, memory. these things are so powerful, to the point where feeling them, even if they hurt and cripple, is better than not feeling anything, at all.

so, now.

someone once said to me, "make it happen."

i did.

ok.

see

i went for a late night walk yesterday, mainly because i hadn't run in several days and needed to just get out and MOVE. but of course, i brought the camera. as you've heard me mention, my town, newburyport massachusetts, is a small quiet place. last night, the streets were void of all life. cars were in lots or driveways to make way for snowplows, and no one was out walking at 10:30pm. just a lonely exercise starved person like myself in search of an image or moment that could transform this "life is good" type town into something phenomenal and epic, at least to me. i've been in search of these photos, for over 10 years, from when i got a small olympus stylus epic and shot photos constantly. what a great little camera that was. damn, i miss it. now, it seems, i'm always hoping for that one shot that will define it all. a shot that will explain to someone everything that is going on in my head. an image that will make someone's heartbreak, in the way that i have previously explained heartbreak. 

a photo that will make someone truly understand me. 

perhaps this is a lot for one image to do, actually, i don't believe that. stand in front of picasso's guernica, or a work by sol le witt. stand on a dark hillside in valley forge park, and stare at the memorial arch, lit up alone amongst the forest and forts. listen to "horn" by nick drake, or read the passage in The Fountainhead where Roark explains to the dean of his school that he doesn't need school anymore. hell, watch brando explain to sheen the utter impossibility of war and humanity. 

these single moments of creativity or expression, if they are worthy, extend miles and miles beyond their original intent and purpose. 

ok. good.

hi. hello. hi.

hi. another late night. i've been around now for 39 years, officially, now. 

recently, there have been tremendous changes in my life. everything that i have known, all the conventions and rote mechanics of the way that life should work have been left behind. even the way that relationships work no longer make any sense to me. it's very depressing, because for me, nothing is certain anymore. i'm holding onto one thing. to the idea that following your heart, that listening to your instinct will bring you to who you need and want to be in life. maybe that end point will be with someone who you share a special unique bond. maybe you'll be satisfied creatively, financially and socially, but will end up constantly traveling and never having a stable situation.

maybe i'll keep ruminating on all of this until my brain finally can't do it for one second longer. i think that is what will happen. what happens then . . . ok.

the winter effect

hi. it is snowing again on the north shore of massachusetts. it has been winter here since forever and it is not letting up. if you have read this blog at all, then you know it is chock-full of symbolism and meaning, at least for me, and this winter is just one more symbol to add to the list. it is cold, miserable and often very lonely. the wind makes you cry and the snow over time moves from a pristine white of promise to a polluted and tarnished gray of reality. i don't know when this winter will end. i can't see when the feelings it creates will cease. i'm not sure if spring equals possibility or memory. chet baker once sang that he "should never think of spring, for that would surely break my heart in two." hmmm. ok.

hmm

there are times, when a song, a book, a poem, a painting, really speaks to what is going on, with me. at first, i was blown away. "this song is exactly how i feel." i thought about it some more, whether we like it or not, we humans feel a lot of the same emotions. out of billions, many of us have experienced love or loss in the same way. the expressions of these emotions by artists, we logically identify with them, we share that. i'm not trying to say that we can't have unique connections and moments, we just share a lot more than we realize. here is a song by daft punk. it's called, "something about us"

It may not be the right time

I might not be the right one

But there's something about us I want to say

Cause there's something between us anyway

I may not be the right one

It might not be the right time

But there's something about us I've got to do

Some kind of secret i will share with you

I need you more than anything in my life

I want you more than anything in my life

I'll miss you more than anyone in my life

i love you more than anyone in my life

ok.

levels

what is appropriate, what is too much? how many times do we wish we said more, or held something back? is there really a situation where total honesty is too much? i used to think so. one doesn't want to indiscriminately hurt another's feelings. however, holding back, omission, can be just as damaging sometimes. i'm leaning towards always putting it out there, but taking the time and effort to explain and amplify conversation. to not get caught in the lack of emotion that can happen with text or chat, with "the void" as friend once put it to me. things can be perceived in many ways, as in this photo. one reading says, "here are 3 rules that one should obey and look out for on the subway." however, it could also mean "don't litter your body on our tracks and get electrocuted."

i hate it when people treat their bodies like litter.

ok. good.

how are you.

hello.

_hello.

how are you.

_i am fine. how are you.

good.

_good.

what did you say.

_nothing, why.

i thought i heard you say something.

_no, i didn't say anything.

do you want to talk about anything.

_no. do you.

not really. no.

_ok. good.

ok.

watch out

i fell like i hear a horn almost all the time.

make it stop.

so, the human race is dying. we are all in the middle of some cough, fever, flu type thing. at least all of us here in land of god forsaken winter new england slush snow ice 20 degrees F for the past 60 days type place. stop. ok. thanks.

a quiet walk

hello. in my town, in newburyport massachusetts, many of the streets are very narrow. so much so that the town enforces a parking ban when it snows, so that plows can clear the streets. i currently live in a house that does not have off street parking, so i park my car in a municipal lot and walk home. 

tonight, i got home late, around 1045. it was still snowing. the roads were more clear than the sidewalks so i started off down the middle of the street. there were no cars in sight. my only company was the thin layer of slush, a clouded sky lit orange by street lamps, and 200 year old buildings that have stared down upon people like me for well, 200 years. staring at people walking late at night in the snow on their way home.

i've written about quiet, and about thought. it isn't earth-shattering. more so than ever, solitary moments for me have made silence more deafening. tonight it was quiet, but the ambient sound of tires on slush from miles away, or the soft melting of snow that has been on the ground for weeks gave the silence form and shape. the silence was loud. 

that is the way it has been for me. the silence that we have for ourselves, the conversations and memories and problems and dreams we have in our brains make a lot of noise. combine all of that with the constant soundtrack i have going, and it is pretty fucking loud. 

i hear it, but i need to listen.

ok.

heartbreak

over the past few months, i've been using the word "heartbreak" a lot. we all have some idea of what this means. i'm sure most of us think of how duckie felt in "pretty in pink." i mean, i'd try to punch the most popular guy in school and run down a hall, trashing the prom banner along the way if i was heartbroken, wouldn't you? however, heartbreak for me has now become multi-dimensional, focusing more on moments when something is so pure, so perfect, so beyond the pre-fabricated and formulaic things we seem to encounter in this century. these things make my heart ache. they make me want to have HD cameras mounted inside my eyes and microphones built into my ears so i can capture these moments without the distraction of hand-held devices. i guess this is ideally what our brain can do and our memories can supply. but we all know that often the sensation is never as strong, unless we have an 104 fever or the most vivid of dreams, waking up laughing out loud or with tears soaking cheeks. i'm going to continue to look for these heartbreaking things, in everyday places, in the small moments and in the corners. ok. good.

ok.

hello. this photo is from outside a church in my town. not my church mind you, but an amazingly white tall steepled homage to JC or whomever you want. i was skeptical of this quote at first, because of its placement outside a church. after some time, i came to look at it as something that inspired me and gave me direction. i need some of that right now. ok.

screw you "who's the boss?"

yes. you are correct. i am mad at the 80s television show "who's the boss?" fuck you "who's the boss?" just think about it. for 8 years and 196 episodes, you utterly destroyed the notion that people should find a way to communicate with one another and tell each other their true feelings. hey, "who's the boss?", who said it would be a good idea to make this man and woman keep their love for one another a secret for all of those years? that is the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard. really, you're really crap, "who's the boss?", and if i had my way, i'd put every recorded copy of your show in a rocket and launch it into the sun. i fucking hate you, "who's the boss?" and i hope my eyes never have to look at you again. have a nice day.

i will lift you

hello. i'll be there, you know. i will be there to lift you. it may not be comfortable, in fact at times, it may seem even torturous. it will help however, nonetheless. good.

another late night thought

hi. how are you? i realize that you cannot answer, unless you decide to leave a comment. as you can see, it is snowing again on the north shore of massachusetts. i am in my apartment, listening to the soundtrack from "The Illusionist" and thinking about the age old concept of star-crossed love finally being realized. if you have seen this movie (which i highly recommend) then you will know what i mean. its funny, we humans spend a lot of time, whether we think it prudent or not, looking for someone to understand us, someone who fits with us. someone who will be there in the moments we need them most. as humans, we most likely cannot really live alone. we need others to enrich us, educate us, inspire and fulfill us. there is nothing wrong with this, it is a special gift that we can give to others, and hopefully, receive as well. ok.