01.21.21

I took a tour of a plane called the Pharoah tonight and while I was certainly impressed with its size, I was disappointed that the replica of it wasn’t to full scale. Having been billed by the staff at the Seattle airport as the largest plane ever built I anticipated seeing something several football fields long. When it was unveiled, I was actually disappointed. That’s the thing about it and no matter who pushed open that door, seeing that model hanging from the ceiling was going to be a disappointment.

Separately, I remember being in the cabin, the south shore steps away. The fire in the wood stove and the wild plan to ventilate it by digging holes in the side of the bed. Then there were the vacation vibes and the drawings. There was no animosity. There was no doubt. There was only ever forward progress and those ever-present expectations that just couldn’t get left behind. Turkeys. Pine trees. The neighbors place. All the skateboard homies and few cans of the cold ones. What a party. Ham salad and King’s Hawaiian.

01.20.21

Is it pride or ego or self-preservation? Is it really any of those things if the projected perspective is truly come as you are? Holes in the argument. Conflicting reports. Things cannot be two things. They either are one or they are not.

Separately, the house with the glass exterior and the skeletal, winding elevator serves little purpose. The Down syndrome cashier with the bag of Cheetos and the soda made a difference, but it was too little too late because there was no place to park at the art fair.

Pick up the phone. The houses aren’t getting younger and there are deliveries that need to be made. I bet the artwork came down. You called it. Hanged out to dry, but the boots fit the overalls on the couch in a room full of old ladies at Christmas.

4:09am. Like the cleaner. I don’t sleep anymore.

01.16.21

Life is short. Make time where there is none.

Some day down the road there will be a moment where you ask yourself some questions and you know now what the answers are, but you can’t bring yourself to actually go through with it.

Time waits for no one.

This platform picks up in many ways from a new location on 02.01.21.

01.01.21

Another year. Hopefully yours is filled with everything you need and nothing you don’t.

If 2020 didn’t offer you lessons, you likely weren’t paying attention.

If, 364 days from now, you are still lesson free, perhaps it’s time you start writing that series of encyclopedias.

Be nice to each other.
Hug people when you can.
Tell people you love them.

Make today amazing.

11.28.20

The neighbor spent the summer building a canoe under an awning on the west side of his house. He used long strips of some kind of hard wood and glue and a host of curse words. I only mention it because as of today the canoe was missing. I’m not certain as to where it went, but I certify that it is, in fact, gone. Most days, through the summer months, he would be out there doing something to the vessel, be it sanding or clamping or just standing near it. Often, through the heat of summer, I wondered why he would undertake such a project if it resulted in so much frustration? Perhaps he just enjoys cursing? Honestly, I have no idea.

Also, but separately, it’s cold again. Cold as in winter. Cold as in chilled to the bone. Temperatures like these do, however, afford the luxury of wearing jackets, which is nice.

Steal Your Face

Smoke a cigarette in the silence of the driveway. Enjoy the darkness and the quiet. Nothing above but stars and empty branches. The country exhaled today and it felt good, but like with nearly everything in life, this is not the finish line. We have miles to go.

Go it alone. Go in the quiet. Find the reminders. Seek not to be approved. Settle the past. Everything is exactly as it should be. 

Dogs walking people. Sirens in the distance. 

The show at First Ave. The broken pedal. The distance in that parking ramp. The van and the truck and the adventures. Forward. Soak it in. Feel it brush past you in the wind. Nothin left to do but smile, smile, smile.

Ten Things

Name ten things you wanna do before you die and then go do them
Name ten places you really wanna be before you die and then go to them
Name ten books you wanna read before you die and then go read them
Name ten songs you wanna hear again before you die, get all of your friends together and scream them

Because right now all you have is time time time yeah,
But someday that time will run out
That's the only thing you can be absolutely certain aboutp

Think of all the things that are wrong with your life and then fix them
Think of all the things that you love about your life, be thankful you are blessed with them
Think of all the things that hold you back and realize that you don't need them
Think of all the mistakes you have made in your life, make sure that you never repeat them

Because right now all you have is time time time yeah,
But someday that time will run out
That's the only thing you can be absolutely certain about

Name ten thousand reasons why you never wanna die, go and tell someone who might've forgotten
Try to list the endless reasons why it's good to be alive, and then just smile for awhile about them

Soon the sun will rise and another day will come
Soon enough the sun will set, another day will be gone

And right now all you have is time time time yeah,
But someday that time will run out
That's the only thing you can be absolutely certain about

  • Paul Baribeau

This Is Our Moment

Do we vote on the basis of how the election will benefit ourselves? Or do we vote on the basis of how the election will benefit everyone that lives in this country? Are we hung up on one issue? Are we hung up on a handful of issues? Have we actually taken the time to consider what the struggles are for people that don’t live in our own skin and who’s blood is not pushed through their system with our very own heart? 

Not one person’s reality is identical to that of another and yet we all have a couple of things in common. First, we are all human. Second, we all call this country home.

On January 20th, 1961, John Fitzgerald Kennedy asked us to consider not what our country can do for us, but rather, what we can do for our country. 

This is our moment. This is our time to stand up for our neighbors and for the people we pass in silence on our way to work. This is our time to put our personal interests aside. This is our time to set down our 401k’s and our retirement savings. This is our time to look past the two vehicles in our garage and the ones and zeros that make up the false security that is the stock market. This is our time to use the gross privilege that comes with our white skin. This is our time. This is our time to vote for the benefit of everyone. This is our time to vote for the benefit of black, brown and indigenous people in this country. This is our time to vote for the benefit of women and children in this country. This is our time to vote for the benefit of gays and lesbians and transgendered folks in this country. This is our time to vote for the benefit of immigrants coming to this country to pursue the freedom we have promoted so enthusiastically for more than 250 years. This is our time to vote for benefit of every single American that has been mistreated and/or marginalized. This is our time to vote for our climate and our justice system and the future of our way of life. This. Is. Our. Time.

So...I beg you to take a second and look in the mirror. Look in the mirror and have that hard conversation. Look in the mirror and ask yourself if the choices you make today are being made to benefit yourself or if they are being made to benefits others. I beg you to consider your vote, not for you, but for all of those that you may help live in a truly free nation filled with equal rights for all.

Our collective and independent American ego is a runaway train and we are the only ones that can slow it down and get it to come to a peaceful stop. We can do that or we can protect ourselves, in our castles built for one...again. We can stop this divisive madness or we can protect our self. It is our choice and there has never been a more important moment to decide which it will be.

Nothing in the news is real anymore and no one knows who to believe. Television talking heads just spit out endless opinions and the politicians, on both sides of the aisle, at the local level and in DC, just talk and talk and talk to protect their own livelihood. Anything and everything can be said to protect the self. It’s who we have become as the consuming public and, similarly, as public servants.

That said, this, too, is just words. More noise. More opinion. Do what you like. Protect your own interest or put down the words and change your actions to protect those that share your community. You have the power to shift. You have the power to shape. You have the power to act. You have the power to vote.

https://www.vote.org/

https://www.vote.org/

Ridges

Walk down by the railroad tracks with the broken glass and standing water. Pass the fork in the trail where one road leads to the houseless folks and the other to smell of something dying. Cross the bridge where the children die and head all the way down to where the egos explode. It’s a campground in the old haunts and a chain bolted to the wall for the fish in the bowl. Country music on repeat and seven Saturdays a month. The dog will lose his appetite if there isn’t enough attention. 

Walk more. Look less. 

Rake the leaves off the driveway and wonder why there aren’t enough limbs on the tree. Fire holes and long forgotten loves. Ridges on the edge of town and rows and rows of soup cans. Time stops and all the restaurants change names. You never get to go backwards and you’ll only ever be brooding. Write it all down on paper and film it. Go back to art and do what feels good. 

Clouds. Rain. Sunday.

Get a box and put everything it. Fill it full and tape it shut and mail it off to some address in the distance. Nothing to see here, folks. Go on home. 

Live. Lake. Love.

The Desert

Turn the goddamn light out and leave the keys in the bottom of the empty pool out back. Hop the fence and walk out into the desert for one last time. They’ll never find you out there. The mortgage and the banks and all those fuckers that earmarked all your money before you ever earned it anyway. Tell em they can pound sand. Tell em they can take the house and the car. Tell em they can take the job and all the attachment. The desert is out there and it’s waiting. It’s waiting for you to take that first step into the cold darkness. Fuck em all. Fuck everything. They took and took until they dried you up. Twenty years they cashed your checks. Twenty years and you’re not further ahead. In fact, you’re still behind and it ain’t gonna change. Leave the light on and flush the key down the toilet. The desert is waiting.

09.24.20

Numbness and anxiety and a willingness to shift the behavior away from self-seeking. Books on the nightstand. Rain outside. So many songs about change and thousands in the streets...pushing just to push. Yelling just to yell. Fighting just to fight. Close the eyes. Lie down. Remember the purpose and the byproducts. All is not lost, but everything will eventually disappear. The mirror will deceive. The camera will add another life. You’ll be broken if you don’t stand up. Remember the effort. Make the bed. 

09.20.20

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind. 

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Calm the mind.

Heal the soul.

09.11.20

Sometimes I think of you as an electric blanket and you’re plugged into the wall behind the dark wood that surrounds my water bed. There, behind the tapestry of Bob Marley that hangs from the ceiling, you heat up to heal me in my time of great need. Yep, you’re an electric blanket and I’m thirteen and I have a Tribe Called Quest cd hidden under my headboard because it has adult language. All the way back then before the house changed hands. In the old neighborhood. You old electric blanket. 

08.28.20

I saw a man walking on a bridge. He was being followed by an ambulance driver as several law enforcement personnel approached from every direction.

I imagine he was planning to jump into the river below.

i saw a truck with American flags jammed into the sidewalks of its bed.

I imagine the flags were some extension of their political beliefs.

I saw people burning candles at the space where a person killed themself the other day.

I imagine the exercise was an extension of the stress those that were lighting the candles have been carrying for some time.

I saw a line of cars at the coffee store and it looked a lot like the line that was there yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.

I imagine the line looks the same every day and the line never gets shorter.

I saw myself on a bike and I was smiling.

I imagine my old self would be real pleased to know I saw myself today.

08.14.20

Two nights in a row with some real gnarly dreams.

The first night was sleep paralysis.

Last night was just plain bonkers.

Both were stressful.

08.09.20

Stop avoiding the inevitable because ignoring the things that need to get done doesn’t make the things that need to get done go away.

Avoidance leads to compounded interest and ultimately a net loss, or, at a minimum, a larger mountain to climb.

Pull the bandaid off. Cross the T’s and dot the I’s. If you want to change the world, start off by making your bed.