My new blog

Is here:

This Moment Is All We Have

Closing Time

"And like that bully on the playground,
when you finally take a stand
and call him out when you've had enough
and really have nothing left to lose,
you know it can go 1 of 2 ways ~
he will either back down and leave or
stay and fight. But you've come too far
to back down. And you realize,
the choice he makes is insignificant,
just like him. This moment
is about you and the choices
you make, not about his voice,
the one rattling around
in his pockets along with the change he
stole. His story doesn't define you.
The only power he has is that which you've
given him. And suddenly, in your heart,
you feel your strength,
pounding through the tips of your fingers.
And being brave becomes less about
fighting and more about being able to
follow the quiet road that is being
laid out before you, the road
only you can see.
And the question becomes,
will you follow it?" - Casey Kurz, from her blog

My wife, Poemfish, asked me long ago to read a book called "Five Wishes." Although I said I would, I really really really didn't want to. My negative side kept telling me that it's utter self-help crap, and I believed it, and I refused to read it, even knowing it would probably only take me a few hours to complete, and it would bring a smile to my wife's face.

Instead, whenever I thought I might pick it up, I would fire up a video game or read some vaguely interesting and incomprehensible scientific discovery on the internet. Or I'd organize some photos, aimlessly putting them in folders, or I'd just waste time in some other way, probably watching some horrible show on TV. Anything but read that damned book.

Yet today, as she was away for the entire day at a creative workshop, and I decided to follow her lead and give it a go.

Let me say that, at first, I didn't enjoy it. My inner cynic kept screaming at me to stop. I kept picking apart the guy's words, asking myself how much money he's made so far writing this book.

At one point I said, "I could write a book like this and be rich - jerk!" I think I used stronger language than this though...

But for some strange reason I forced myself to stop that nonsense.

I sat down and read old posts from my wife's blog. Her words are filled with inspiration and hope. Her posts always seem to relate to this one theme, or message:

This world is what we make of it. Let's fight our fears and struggles, our insecurities and our demons - let's let them all go and see what we can make of this life.

I took time to pull out some Howard Zinn books, and I listened to his message:

Yes - this world is full of darkness and evil. Of oppression, hatred, and fear. Yet we can as individuals make a difference, and as an individual in a movement - we can change the world.

So I took a deep breath and decided to sit down and give the book a shot. I had to put aside my sometimes-not-so-hidden machismo and see if this book could do me some good.

...

And it did.

I hope.

As always - what I get out of this experiment will only be as powerful as I let it.

The five wishes I made could change my life.

They could be completely ignored.

Although I have an abundance of confidence, I'm not always the person I project to everyone around me. There are times where my confidence, my anger, my temperament, and my intellect are only disguises and distractions to the real me - the one who sometimes fears so much for the people he loves that he steps back away from them - the one who sometimes has so much hope for the world that he would be devastated if he couldn't change it, so he doesn't try - the one who still feels like he could have made a difference in his friend's life if he would have paid more attention - the one who feels his love of teaching fading as he focuses on the small, unimportant things - the one who finds it far too easy to find mindless solace in video gaming and aimless pursuits - the one who far too often fails to build on his wife's endless enthusiasm for life and, by taking the road most traveled, destroys opportunities for growth and living life to the fullest.

So allow me to end Memory - the blog I founded based on this idea:

We live in fragments of time, in a reality in which time passes so quickly, it's almost impossible to grab hold of what we are experiencing. Even thousands of photographs over a lifetime amount to mere minutes... in the end, memory is all we have.

The thing I now realize is that memory is not all we have. Thousands of photographs over a lifetime do not measure that person's life.

Instead, we have this moment. Right now. What we make of it is who we are.

thismomentisallwehave.blogspot.com

Retro

A while ago my wife asked me if I heard of TTV photography. I had, but I didn't really know much about it - so I looked it up and thought it was cool. To surprise her, I bought her an old Brownie Reflex twin lens reflex camera off ebay, and then built a little contraption for the camera. It was WAY cooler than I thought it would be, and so I proceeded to get my own.

My wife and I went out with our cameras yesterday for the first time, and we were constantly amazed at how these weird contraptions could make the mundane seem surreal. It was VERY cool stuff. Here are some of mine:

Off the path

I haven't updated in over a month. "Sigh..." - Back to the old me, I guess. Too lazy to share some photos or words of wisdom with everyone.

So I'm back, this time with an update to some of the trips I've taken recently.

First up: St. Louis. Great city - lots of stuff to do - but my most interesting photos were found on the way and back. These photos were taken of buildings and locations just off the highways - deep in the heart of the country in between small towns.



- I've seen this many times on the way to Brownville, NE - but I finally had a chance to stop and take a photo. I love the rusty old sign...



- This location is full of potential, just beyond Brownville too. The house this belongs to is filled with stuff - but the door is wide open. I will check out the inside next...



- This house is just full of good creepiness, with a cemetery literally next door. I imagine someone scouting this location for their next horror movie.

History

Last night, we were a witness to history. Barack Obama spoke to an unbelievably large crowd during his acceptance speech, and those who were able to attend that event will forever hold a piece of that history with them. For those of us who witnessed this on TV, or through the internet, we too shared in the experience, although slightly muted through the glass screens.

And so we wake up today thinking things will be different.

Yet they aren’t. The economy is still in shambles. We are all still struggling. Millions face poverty. Racism and hatred still exist.

Hope, however, lives.

Obama spoke of what his Presidency will mean to millions of people in this country. He has a direct and unique understanding of what kind of symbol he has become, and will be.

He is a symbol for possibility within us all, black or white, for truly being the change we wish to see in the world. He is the symbol that shows us that all of us really can do the impossible. He won Virginia – that in itself is just stunning.

Let’s not be foolish to say that he will change this country. By himself, he is simply a man who has inherited probably the most difficult job of our time. He cannot fix the financial crisis, or our mortgage payments, our gas prices, or any of the hundreds of other problems this country faces.

Presidents get far too much credit for the good that happens, and far too much blame for the bad. It’s not saying that Presidents don’t have an impact – just look at the Bush Presidency – it’s simply saying that all truly great things that have happened in this country should not be attributed to a President.

The truly great things have happened because regular people have stood up and demanded that change.

Obama has taken a first step, and now it’s our job and responsibility to follow those footsteps, and then to branch out in other directions that we want to take.

McCain and his legions charged that Obama was nothing more than words and ideas. I would disagree, yet I might also say that sometimes words and ideas are all we need. After all, this nation was started with an idea, and our foundation was built on the strength of words written on paper.

I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Poet

My wife, the poet.
Every piece of art she does, the poet speaks.
Every photo she takes, the poet sings.
Every time she holds my hand, there is poetry in her touch.

Old School

This is old school. 2003 film-camera old school, taken downtown during a poetry reading my wife was a part of. I was just learning photography and how to push film beyond ISO 400 (if I remember right, I pushed it to 1600 for this roll).

Photography was so different. You had to learn the hard way - by waiting till the film was developed. I remember spending hours shooting and then developing my film, only to see that I had screwed up the temperature or something stupid, effectively wasting all that time. I remember the smell of the chemicals and washing my hands over-and-over again, knowing the smell would be there no matter what.

Yet... there was still something magical about it. When a photo turned out, it was truly an experience that mattered. There was a bit more "substance" to it - as you carried it around with you like a gift, showing it to those important to you.

Too often now all my photos stay hidden on my hard drive, or uploaded to some website. Although I would never go back to film, there is no denying the magical quality of the final print, after hours in the darkroom.