Lost Nuts and Found Bolts

On the commute this morning.  Talk about what I know. About experience. No, I didn't win the golden ring - or -  stand on top of some distant mountain peak Actually i did. I stood there - flying by fast.  In the distance storm clouds gathering  for their attack.   It wasn't Everest, it was a new height for me. In my ignorance I scaled an ice wall.  No tools or training, only hubris to push me upward. Standing on this peak, looking 360 around, in the distance tin roofs  reflecting   like glistening jewels, and little metal boxes scurrying from place to place.  Lightning forced me from my perch,  what took most of the day to ascend, only moments to descend. Me with my metal buttons, and wet skin.  A few feet away a lightning bolt struck a metal cable. The storm passed as quickly as it came.  The memory of the climb faded until today. 

City Angel- 2008 Gonna take myself back, back to where I started, back to my home. Gonna put one foot  in front of another, take the plunge again. Gonna rip open my heart again  and let the spirit take flight this time.

I was in the cabin of this private jet. I knew it was it was a jet because of the small cylindrical space, the white plastic and metal moldings, plus the sense of movement. I think it was mostly the plastic, though. I moved towards the pilot's cabin and peeked around the right side of the pilot's shoulder to get a better look at him, maybe say something. What I found was an inflatable mannequin figure sitting in the pilots seat- hands and body inflated- palms out flat. I could see the sealed seams of the inflatable figurine.  Must have been on auto pilot.   I got the urge to urinate so I turned to go to the toilet. As I was taking a leak my urine turned to blood- at first just a little stream then the toilet filled with blood and bubbles, I got up and returned to my seat. Internal State pen and ink on handmade abaca 7" X 14 1/2" 4-16/17 2014

Stroll San Francisco  March 2014  Stroll 2 San Francisco  March 2014

A voice that is a raspy as the ages of time sanding down the rough edges- Of Jasper Johns new work, of   a man setting on the edge of a bed, explored over and over again,trying to understand the impulse of life,of living. Avoiding the end of ones time,   avoiding the face of death, while it stares back at you in the mirror. It is not the reflection one sees but the smirk of time walking away leaving dust. The realization that the longing one has is for the things never   expressed in the past, and now its too late. The wound healed over some time ago.  T he scar remains   a reminder of loss and feelings un-felt, even the words don’t suffice any longer. Only distorted memories of risks not taken. Then, wishing to stare at the setting sun until the rays burned away my ability to see any residue of a life spent. I was at a loss today to express my love for you. You sat there at the other ...

Shroud #6 or looking for a new investment opportunity Chula Vista, California 2014  35mm B&W

Shroud #004  covered, protected from the harmful rays, protected from there own passage of days. Or waiting for the perfect time to take it out for a spin. Chula Vista, California Jan. 2014 35mm B & W