nothingyet

the time of day is everything to me (kick up your feet).

the world of wood as idea/representation, in a bird's mind's eye.
cuckoo.

sounds like a plan

in an event that can only be described as "classic beach" we arrived at Ocean 17 around 9:30 for the Cardinal Skateboard shop's first video premiere.


Chaplain and his mom were there and green wristbands were given out to drink free keg beer, as the punk rock music blared on, in a hopping and swinging joint, full of mesh hats and hurley gear.

"all the usual suspects" were there, as Chaplain's dad said, upon entering the establishment.



i think dave and kristin had a good time, at least (after my strongly suggesting their attendance) i hope they did.

bless him o' Lord.

Dude, last night was totally fucked! i dreamt (nightmared) that one of my best mates was dead! i had this vivid picture of receiving a text from my dad that "Rory has died." i should have known immediately that it was all a horrible, awful, no good nightmare, given that my dad doesn't even have a cell phone, but alas, dreams are not reasonable creatures. i woke up and, clearly, only somewhat in my right mind, checked the internet and saw his myspace profile to make my heart sing of joy. please be careful, Rory, please be careful. i apologize for having such hidden, subconsciously morbid thoughts..

here's to the holidays

Heavenly thoughts;- everafter, paradise, wispy clouds, pearly white gates, forgiveness, father, ecstacy, bliss, nirvana, sky, God, transcendance, soul, sunrise, sunset

I saw a show on popular television last night assessing different ideas of Heaven and the afterlife. Many conflicting and controversial beliefs brought me back to thinking about things I haven’t thought much about in a long time. Is there rebirth or eternal life? Who goes to hell? How do you accept Jesus Christ as your savior and let him into your heart? When people report of near death experiences, was it truly heaven’s “white light” they saw or just the brain’s chemical reaction to a lack of oxygen; the brain’s beginning reaction to shutting down for good? I don’t think we’ll ever really know these things with absolute certainty, but faith is all that’s really important in these kind of debates anyway. You can’t really shake faith, it’s the last to die, and many don't ever experience it until they have to or they're made to.
The December solstice – the moment when the sun is at its greatest distance from the celestial equator – comes at 1:35 p.m. today, marking the start of winter in the Northern Hemisphere. Does this have anything to do with heaven? I don’t know. wishful winter.

Fortunes

Last night i went to a independent movie premiere, at the Naro theater in Norfolk. Directed by a good friend of a friend, Parker Cross, the movie, Fortunes, was a funny comedy about three friends questioning both fate and themselves after impulsively visiting a fortune teller. i thought it was pretty damn funny, after going into it without preconceived notions. i would recommend it to anyone.



Then an after party was held at Zio's restaurant, which was a fun reception.















Bobby P, proudly displaying his latest acquistion.













Richard was there, his wife is pregnant with twins. He is currently in med school, so as you can imagine, he is busy.














Rachel likes to wear this hat to bed.

hmmm

i love the new yorker

DH Lawrence, a favorite author of mine, was featured in an article in the New Yorker, referring to a new book about his life, "DH Lawrence: The Life of an Outsider" by John Worthen. In summation i offer this, as copied from the article...

Dying of tuberculosis in the winter of 1929-30, unable to walk, and rendered sexually impotent by his disease, he wrote these words on the last page of his last book:

"Man wants his physical fulfilment first and foremost, since now, once and once only, he is in the flesh and potent. For man, the vast marvel is to be alive. For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive. . . . The dead may look after the afterwards. But the magnificent here and now of life in the flesh is ours, and ours alone, and ours only for a time. We ought to dance with rapture that we should be alive and in the flesh, and part of the living, incarnate cosmos..."

DH Lawrence died on March 2, 1930, aged forty-four and weighing all of eighty-five pounds, in Vence, where Frieda (his wife), Aldous and Maria Huxley, and some others buried him, Frieda wrote, “very simply, like a bird".

...No doubt his vitalism was a sick man’s dream of health, and the sickness sometimes corrupts the dream with misanthropy, misogyny, and self-despair. But it would take a robust human animal indeed not to suspect, reading Lawrence, the unused possibility of a quicker, deeper life just beneath the one we live, and not to feel, reading about the man, that he sometimes knew whereof he spoke.

norfolk weeknight

10001

i want to go back to new york city. i miss it. i've said, "i hate it" but i didn't mean it. i take it back. i've only seen about a third of it (if that much).
it seems to keep people so occupied. it's romantic, dirty and cold. i think its an overall feeling that attracts me to the city; "indifferent" comes to mind, but that hardly sounds attractive(?) ;creative, chance, inspiring, possibility, people, worlds, sidewalks, construction, changing, capricious, unstuck... i think of it as the ultimate "place to visit" for me. i mean, i could never live there (for my own neurotic tendencies) but more and more i long to visit regularly, especially in the colder part of the year. so many things happen there, and so much has already happened there, all contributing to the majestic ineffability of it all. i can see the lights now, in my minds eye, the smoke of sewers, and yellow cabs, tall buildings and and rear view mirrors.
new york, new york, what makes you so special, really?

edit me

i used to write about times. it never worked. i thought it would help me remember. i still forget. things you try the hardest to forget stand clear in your mind while the events most important become far, removed, or grossly fantastical. a great time is hard to re-create. probably because its already gone. living in the moment, you sure are good and well. the bad memories i have dont last. maybe i dont let them, maybe they dont let me (maybe, i'm just lucky enough not to have too many).
often i wonder about nightmares and significance, coincidence and consequence. i'm pretty boring, in that i take most things as they are--when they're really good or really bad, that's when i attribute responsibility or blame. in this fashion, i imagine many people are the same.













there's a reasonable responsibility in not taking things too seriously.
there's conservatism in liberalism too.
luck is not at all involved.
i trust my instinct though it's failed me before (a moment of naivete, on a bus, in a city 7 miles wide, comes to mind).
we make assumptions all too often though, limiting us in many many ways. it becomes harder to look within. i don't konw many people willing to being again. that's a good way to end.
fornow .

sktbrding.

so the weekend went well-- temp got lots of good footage, and angelo proved he was a man; tyler proved he was a legend and well, all i did was slam. it was cold as shit on the day we actually got to skate and warm for our ride back to Norfolk (bummer). i always liked skating with a goal in mind, and i may have a new one, with a tentative release date for summer 06. skateboarding with some hearts made me realize just how fun it can be, i only wish i was up for the weather and the program on hand this weekend past. all in all, it was well spent, pain and all.

melinda and melinda

everyone reading this should stop and go see this movie.

are pictures better than words?

i dont think so;


but they count for something...

a paperclip in a windowsill

THE PAPERCLIP in the windowsill.
glimmering softly, reflecting, still;

longing thoughts of a papermill,
in the world outside, the windowsill.

coffeeshop conversations (overheard)

CONVERSATION 1:
Two young lovers, flip the pages of a recent GQ magazine, commenting idley.
"I know this guy who is 24 years old and he wears boxers and briefs" she said.
"Both!?" he exclaimed.
"Yeah! You can see both, like above his belt loop line on his pants. I told my mom about him and she was like, 'You are not hanging out with him,' Hahaha!"

CONVERSATION 2:
Two men in their 40's sip coffee and discuss mostly business affairs, phone companies and power companies, and other mundane things when i overhear this whilst trying to read...
"Yeah, the other night when i was walking my dog, she ran after something and got me so tangled in the leash that i fell down, and then the cat bit me."
"Hahahaha, what?! Are you serious?
"Yeah!"
"So you were BITTEN by a cat, with your dog right there!?" the other guy said; outraged.
"Yeah, it was pretty bad, i had to kick the cat to get it away from me."

a day like any other.

In dubious, muted triumph, i celebrate my first year as a salaried employee (with the Norfolk Commmunity Services Board) today. although, certainly not miserable, the future is not here. i am open to suggestions, self.

exhibition

this is some of what i saw this weekend...

about a boy

bike rides with long sleeves.
princess cut barbecue chicken quesadillas.
presents and future.
cold buttons and under covers.
our dog blue and the wide open roof.
noisey nights and siren lights.
shooting stars and "after alls."
cool breeze; morning delights.
november city nights.
remembered.

Williamsburg Winery

Saturday morning breaks, November colors in our morning windows. after sleeping in (far longer than usual) we made our way out the door fast (forgoing any breakfast) and headed outside into the bright morning. I-64W brought realizations of forgotten directions, a couple phone calls later and we were on the right path. (did you know you can textmessage GOOGLE for addresses?)
after a tour of the cellars and an explanation of the winemaking process we did the $7 tastings. we learn that this is the largest winery in VA as we settle down to a lunch outside with kind strangers who offered up two seats at their table. del.ic.ious sandwiches and a delectable white wine, we relaxed in the cool calm of a leisurely saturday afternoon. pretty soon we realized that there was, in fact, alcohol in wine and had to walk it off on a tranquil self directed tour of the grounds. after lying around in the grass out of sight, wearing it off, in the careless autumn delight, i took out my camera to take a picture of beauty only to find that i had forgotten the battery at home. "some things weren't meant to be documented anyway", i think to myself. we walk back to the car and drive off with the seasonal colors of this historic land passing by outside our windows, the kind of colors that you are never let to forget when you live in the beautiful land of Virginia, who shows her beauty in fleeting moments unexpected...

21 floors up

on a rooftop in Norfolk,
wine on our side;
city light glow.

just some worlds

bright stars in sky-night,
shine a delight; inspire might
on the world below.

shadows, grass, trees
lights, darkness, breeze
cars, apartments, keys

aluminum cans and cigarette butts.
for those of us who crave.

footnote in history

:today; 4 years, 1 month, and 18 days after the September 11th terrorist attack, our President, George Bush is visiting Norfolk to give a speech on terrorism.

mail of now...

or the provisional aspects of email. who saves all their emails? not i, you, him, or her? no. lost forever they are doomed to be; the generation of well documented communication through letters is over. the hand written letters of the past so laboriously constructed, and kept in boxes hidden in closets and under beds is gone. now we "delete our inboxes" forever emptying them into eternity, never to be read again; memories and ideas lost; friendships' depths forgotten. there are obvious benefits to such tasks of ease, but what are the inevitable drawbacks, on the history of our lives? when we look back for tangible memories?
sure, it makes sense to delete the time sensitive reminders and all the messages of insignificant content but what about all the meaningful correspondences destined to be forever lost due to a lack of use or purpose? and are these less and less occurring as well? in other words, has email cheapened communication overall? (as surely the cell phone has! but i wont get into that here.)
just some thoughts i have had recently regarding the deficiency of the new culture of emails and the transiency of thoughts and letters we produce every day, ever more (of which i am guilty of).
sadly, i guess we miss out on some things with the emergence of others.

an anniversary

in pictures