Lost Nuts and Found Bolts

Revisiting 1984, by George Orwell- A book I read years ago. I had forgotten that within the pages, a love story emerges, hidden from the constant monitoring of Big Brother. There is a yearning to understand how things got that way. It is of a society splintered, constantly at war, disparate groups isolated and suspicious of one another. There is the longing for touch, intimacy, and emotion, that becomes a reminder of our shared humanity.  There is the  erasure of history one sentence at a time, one experience at a time. Even now in 2025, there are attempts to rewrite(erase)history. What are we afraid of? Is it the acknowledgment of our own brutality and inhumanity? Until we can look at the underlying motives we will watch everything around us unravel. What happened to caring for one another, to offering help, and to showing compassion? Today, anyone different is seen as the "other". One's lack of empathy leads to fear of anything unfamiliar, and t hen fear directs the res...

It's below freezing, The tires feel harder than normal.  The roadbed seems dense, knowing of the comings and goings of humanity.  Noticing only the reflections  in their own windows as they  are passed by someone in more of a hurry than the ones passed. Walking Man One   Walking Man Two

Found this image on my computer.  Not sure how, but it feels like  home This blog will likely be discovered someday- perhaps when I am no longer around. It will be erased or appreciated by someone. who knows? But it makes sense to create knowing that  I must respond to the things, moments, and narratives that matter to me.  So where to start?  I have heard and believe the more someone does something and puts in the time and effort. Good will come from it. But, it mustn't be the only reason. As I was falling asleep I asked myself what the earliest memory was.  I vaguely recall being outside, perhaps not even walking yet crawling around on my belly. the texture of dried grass and dirt- warm sun, a swing set silhouetted by the light - looking into the brightness of the metal from the frame and chain link, the empty saddles. A brother or my twin (I don't know about that.) Could I have held onto my brother in the womb -  a loving embrace of our oneness?...

Finally, it's snowing! I don't know about you, but the seasons are definitely changing. There are fires in California and other parts of the world, along with droughts and famine and boxes full of other calamities. I am called to embrace who and where I am in this  moment, aiming to be genuine in my expression.  There's an interiority to looking outside of one's own experience.  It's a contradiction between popular culture and what's important.    I heard someone say that it is the responsibility of those with white privilege to shine a light on that privilege. But what I see, is that the state of the world revolves around the quest for greed, power, money, and influence, Fueled by an insatiable lust and hunger for more. Finding my way back to the garden Back Yard W/Flash 2024 Back Yard- 12-29-2024

 Yea So,  this year started on a wonderful note,  spent New Year's with good friends. We all felt at ease except for the dog who had her schedule disrupted.  Preparing work, working on my various devices,   I can remember walking into an electronics store when I was about 10   That was before the slot car track & store and the trampoline center were built.. I would walk up and down the aisles wondering about the dials, the capacitors, wires, and clips and imagine how they would fit together or what could be created with all of the various pieces.   The Electronic Store was a few doors down from where the HOB NOB Grocery Store was located - Which by the way was where I was caught shoplifting a bag of Frito's with a friend of mine.- the police were called and I was given a ride home by an officer, who marched me up to our door. We were living in a salmon-colored -maybe it was beige- Duplex at the time. I was whipped by my father, not f...

Discards- back into the stream. Listening to David Byrne - Collage. It's  2025 a New Year. Same time Perhaps I will take all of the little pieces, the bits left over from repairs, extra screws left over from reassembly pieces of tape pulled from scabbed over the skin.  A belt buckle from a long ago deteriorated leather strap. Assorted paper clips, rusty exacto blades, and rubberbands weakened from too much UV. Then to take these various piles of fragments & pieces pile them up in the middle of the floor and photograph them before discarding them The residue of experiences long forgotten Memory Triggers.

After editing, and putting pieces together-  I push post, sending fragments of my life out there,  hoping to find an audience who shares  my sensibilities, experience, and feelings.   The latest piece.   I feel like i am getting closer to something.