the 23rd.

i love the things you can see and read just from the small of someone's back.
from the way there hair lays, the posture in which they carry themselves.
its this language of self.
its universal.










its time to disappear into sleep.

as usual.
i took this in new york when i was there, all this beautiful, bizarre, what the heck imagery there.

the answers are in the palm of your hand

searching. searching.

jan 17th

i read the other day that..your eyes show the strength of your soul.

its interesting how easy it is to trust someone who is able to look you fully in the eyes.

someone that when you talk to them they can really look into you back.

it is that strength.

its important, i find the more rooted i am, the more grounded i become i can really allow someone to look into me. and how that trust forms, how that person believes in what i'm saying, what i'm doing.

whether it simply be someone on a train, to a friend i've known for years.

"when something evolves, everything around that thing evolves as well."

boston

i'm in boston

theres not much more i can say

it was impulsive and needed

life is strange

bizarre and beautiful

im learning to swim again

in this sea of life

forgot for a bit

started to get lazy

let my face fall underneath the water

i'm knowing and hoping this season will pass

like they always do

and i'll find myself in swtizerland this summer

old work. new work. repetitive work.

pauline and tragic beauty.

2. 2006

3. hiding

4.sketch

5. the

queen

5. looking off # 3

6. this one time in france

7. looking off # 4

accidents

i woke up from my dream this morning feeling like this.

it was so dark, the dream that was.

it was like this painting i made ages ago. there's so much light around

but

the images in my head felt so dark.

cloudy.i was in a car. my car. my red old mustang. the 65. its chicago and its snowy. i'm over near the 6 corners going to damen avenue. My breaks are a little faulty. and as i try to push nothing happens. Well no, they start to slow but not nearly enough in time. I think maybe i wont hit the car in front of me.

but i do.

then that car hits the next and that one the next, and that one rear ends the next til the 4th car hits an electrical wire. There are lots of children and people around the intersection, but noone's hurt.
i close my eyes.i leave. i'm worried about all the lives i've screwed up in the processes. but the light turns green as this happens and i just go.

it feels better to disappear.

but i cant really disappear.

i find myself at a bar later with my friend Ricky. Ali has text me to tell me he's in town. I feel so relieved. I just need to talk to him, to someone. There's something about his calm outlook on life that I adore. Something about this peace in him that anyone would thrive off being around.

i see him. i remember looking at his face for awhile. trying to discern it, its like a dali painting though, slightly moving, melting but not really.

the next minute he's just him again.

and after whats been awhile, people have come and gone, surrounded us and then left us alone he says,

"so then it was just a dream?"

i think hard for a moment and say. well i dont know. the line between my real life and dreams are so blurred these days.

but then i wake up here in thousand oaks and it is.

i breathe for a little while. the taste of that dreams makes me want a coffee. something to completely erase it. ANd then This, above. It's a photo i took with Delaram in LA a few days ago, but it's that light, that moment. I received in an email from a friend in New York.

Who spoke of pleasure, guilt, and all things in life worth living for.

and i let go of the dream. the fear of accidents that may affect too many people.

the sort of accidents i want to create are like these.

these lights that illuminate one thing to the next.

i fell asleep with a bit of too much wine last night.

i felt like an old widow, but it was cozy all the same.

home

i really cant get enough of this image. and enough in the sense of little sister staring down the camera, older sister blowing nose, and old friend feeling awkward.i love capturing these moments.

explosions in the sky "greet death" just came on.
all i can think about is that dream i had a little while back. the one i was telling nina about earlier tonight.
i was falling off a stairway outside my back porch, i was all clenched up. that initial moment i realized i'm falling to my death. and then i'm falling, for what seems like longer than i should be, and something in my ear just whispers.
let go.and i'm falling, and it feels so
good.
there's no fear really, it just feels so good to fall. and to not care.
to not worry about the crash.
in death there is no fear.
so lately i've been falling.
so softly and so nicely, falling towards my slow death.
and loving every hazy minute of it.

on new years i ended up at this place called the convent collective in san francisco. a bit like the collective i live in but is 4 stories, with roof top musicians for this and an abandoned church next door.
after the magic hour of midnight i found myself in the top of the bell tower of the church looking out at the bay bridge and the tiny lights covering the city.
i attempted to ring the bell as silently as i could, it let out this tiny echoe. like the lap of a lake, like a bell you might here in the morning. in the distance, unsure if you made it up in your head or not.
a friend who i hadn't seen since time spent in Berlin was there.
we watched cars pass, i asked him where they were all going.

he said it's after midnight so probably home. i smiled to myself and thought simply, well yeah, i guess that is the place you find yourself at the end of the night.

nina asked me tonight where that was for me.
home that is.
it took me a minute.
i finally told her there is not one place really.

i am kind of my own home.and the people that i find myself around, the people i adore, that make that place for me, are my home too.
whether that be san fracisco, paris, chicago, or new york.