Work Space

Teleconference the specifics
Meet with the folks that make the checks
Review the schedule
If we do this,
We can erase the next eight months of our lives
Are you ready for that?

Of course.
Just let me re-crunch
The numbers…
Dollars with wings.

Hey,
I woke up this morning
Thinking about the thing.
You know
The thing
That will keep us up at night?

Good.
We’re on the same page.
I hope you can run fast.
This moving train isn’t going to wait for you.
It’ll either wear you out
Or cut you in half
But you can’t go ’til I say go.

Such is the life in construction. “Be careful what you wish for, you just may get it.” When my work day is over…I’ll just mosey on down to the rusty buckwheat fields. Watch the bees and really learn something.





Dream Sequence4

Quiet in There, Go to Sleep!

My mother would need to deliver that line to us every single night. Four boys in one room will not stay silent very long.
The concept of “going to sleep” is an interesting idea when we think about it. Is it a place….like Paris? Sleep is not tangible, yet we say ” I need to get some sleep”. We can’t touch it, but we know when we’ve had it. We have it even though we cannot touch it….yet… it touches us.

When we are very young we hate it. When we are adults we like it, but ignore it. When we get older we can’t ignore it.

Maybe, “having it” is the impossibility. “Experiencing it” is more appropriate. We experience it, then we are done with it for a time.

Sleep is my next project. Not to “go there”….to that sub conscious wonderland where we dream and work out our anxieties. Rather, to send others there. Either with eyes open in meditation (conscious sleep), or in the traditional sense.

This video is a rough draft of what will be a much longer rendition to take the viewer/hearer to that end.

Sometimes we just see frames and the imaginary worlds these frames make before our eyes.

Music composed from sampled “phrases” and added nuances.

Mysteries At Eventide

It seemed a thousand years that I had walked along this trail.
Much has changed in a few weeks of absence.
The swallowtail have returned in full force,
Their flight patterns still intact after these many years.

I spied a nest-box with twigs spilling out of its entry.
Inhabited no doubt.
Training my camera on the entry, I saw a bird fly in to my right periphery.

It was a wren. And it did not like me entering it’s space.
The bird had work to do. Mouths to feed. And this big lug was triggering the defense intuition ingrained from countless generations.

Birds typically have several communicative skills. Calling, singing, and warning are the basics. The wren’s sounds were most certainly warnings. Heated curses in human language. “Get out, stay away, can’t you see I have work to do?”

So brave is this little one, with babies calling. The power of instinct pushing it to accomplish an ancient wonder….the reproduction of life. I will never again venture too close if I can help it. I tried to apologize, but it was already away and looking for another meal.

Such are the experiences on the trail. A cathartic release for me. Life and death for others. Still, the sun set as always, darkness fell, and the cycle reset for yet another day.

Swallows in May

Not too much longer now
They will leave this place
For northern climes

This May has been extraordinarily busy for me. I made only my second entry of photographic work for the month last night.
That will change, like the coming and going of the swallows.

After a few hectic weeks, it felt good to let the sound of the river cover me while I mused at the whimsy of these little birds.

Moms

How far, is it, to the moon?
And from where did I come?
How did I grow inside of you?
Was it magic or a miracle?

Where were you just now, I was lost?
Can you see the rain afar off?
I’ll be gone for the day, for the week.
What will I do, when I work in the world?

Will there be someone for me?

Did I hurt you when I moved away?
Did you call my name in the night?

How far, is it, to the moon?

We were all once seeds, held tight by a beautiful flower.

Old 8mm family film cuts from the ’60’s – south of Los Angeles.