It's cold.
The dark wouldn't be so bad if I could see what's crawling over my feet.
Then again, maybe not.
Such a small place, hard to move.
The sides are rocky, but covered in a slippery moistness.
There's no grip.
Constant drip, drip, drip, on my head and shoulders.
How long?
How long since I was in the sliver of light so far above?
I remember...things.
There were others. Voices. I had a voice, too.
Didn't I?
Didn't I talk, and laugh, at one time?
I seem to remember there was laughter once.
Hard to imagine there was reason for it.
How did I get here? When did my freedom abandon me?
Did I do something wrong, something to put me here?
Something trickles - or skitters - down my back.
Hard to breathe, my knees drawn up so close.
I'd weep, but I've nothing left to feel.
As cold inside as I am out.
...
I open my eyes; sleep comes and goes without definition.
No watch to follow, the crack above barely a night light.
I dreamt the earth shook.
A mighty quake that brought down the darkness around me
and buried me in it's cold, heavy prison.
I could still feel the rumblings around me...
yet...my eyes were open; I could feel it.
The walls wrapping me in their dank grip
trembling, trying to keep their hold upon me.
I heard a distant thunder.
Soon it was a great roaring, the stone about me shaking violently.
Had I dreamt my relief into being?
My suffering to end with a quick and crushing death?
It was all I could do to find a tear to shed.
The sliver of light above closed,
the cold slick walls folded above and began crushing me.
A sudden jolt upward, a deafening crack,
and I felt myself fall back.
Suddenly I was pushed to the side and down.
Everything around me fell away; I was surrounded by black rock
and shifting shafts of brightness.
I tumbled over, over, dark shapes and light shifting,
changing patterns as I fell.
Just as I felt like floating, I stopped hard.
Air forced from me, lungs grasped for breath.
I curled into a ball, covered my head.
Behind my eyes was red, rocks showering about me.
The rumbling died down, I opened my eyes.
Brightness stabbed at them as I squinted.
Only a pale grey of sky, ground darker and brown.
I must be dead. Could this be the afterlife?
Smell of dirt tickles my nose.
I feel it's softness in my fingers.
Isn't that a breeze upon my skin?
Isolated armies of pain attack me as I stand.
Could I be ...alive?
Knees crack in objection; I don't listen.
I squint to the horizon...I can see a horizon!
I reach for the grey above, the endless distance around me...
I might well be in heaven after all.
I turn, look at what was once my prison.
Only a gaping chasm, a pile of rubble, remains.
Not caring how or why, I spin around and begin walking.
Slowly at first, then faster, denying the stiffness, the pain.
Soon I am running,
memory returning laughter to my throat
like a thousand voices that were never lost.

Says all I really need it to say. If I remember where I found this, I'll let you all know. 

It is a hard-fought battle in a war waged against ignorance and stupidity.  I work at a major university in California and I have to say that I never realized the magnitude of the ignorance problem in this country.  I've been here a number of years now, and each year a new group of people cause my jaw to hang slack in amazement at the lack of common sense synapses firing in the minds of the great majority of people. 

Oh, I would understand if it were just the 17/18 years old freshmen.  College is a new thing and here they are being thrown out on their own.  Even when it's their choice, I get that it can be a little overwhelming.  I was there, too.  I remember.  But then I talk with the parents.  How did they get so frickin' stupid?  So few of them read the paperwork they get in the mail.  Everything you need to know is in print for them, and it's sent to the address they give the university, and yet, they don't read anything!  And then when they miss a deadline or don't do something they're supposed to do, they complain that they didn't know - no one told them!  Boo hoo!    Read your fuckin' mail, morons! 

Whew!  Sorry.  This job has really made me misanthropic.  I'm really quite jovial and gregarious by nature, I swear.  I think people are just getting dumber and lazier.  They just want to put he responsibility elsewhere.

And to think, it's still summer.  Middle of August rolls around and I'm gonna be eyes deep in people that have the intellectual acumen of a box of dirt.  Oy.

I was looking for a photoblog, and Buzznet seemed to be the logical choice.  Seems to be the popular one, too.  I'll look into Flickr again down the road.  They seemed to have some nice features, but it's seems to still be in the beta stage.  Time will tell.
For now, it's Buzznet, and more pics will be forthcoming.  Until I get a digital camera or a new scanner, you will probably see a fair amount of awful camera phone pics.  Not great quality, but the spontaneity is fun.

That girl; she has a way with words.  Sometimes I really wonder why I write at all.  Could I have anything of useful to say?  Is it all just for me?  Yeah, I suppose it is, in the end.  Anything creative is in many ways just self-gratification.  I suppose if anyone else gets something from it, only then does it serve a more relevant purpose.  It's up to the reader/viewer to determine its' value.
But here we are in a time where technology can make anyone a writer.  How many blogs are there?  I'm sure I wouldn't care to try and count them.  So many people with so much to say.  You never know where you're going to find words that mean something to you.  Yep, that girl has a way with words.

A new name, a new address.  I think it's appropriate.  Or shall I say, 'apt'.  ;)

The Sunset/Vine structure. Again taken with the cell phone camera, hence the grainy quality. Yes, that's a Border's Books & Music at the bottom. This is looking North/Northwest on Vine at Sunset- take a right and go a few blocks and I'm home. 

Ok, this pic thing is getting out of hand.  It's time for me to pick a photoblog to add to this site.  I just haven't decided which one yet.  Real soon.
Well, JURY DUTY has been a good thing for me.  I called tonight and I don't have to go in tomorrow either, so...I have completed my first obligation of jury duty!  Glad I could be of service.  I'm such a giver.  So my bookie tells me, anyway.

Today is my friend Rob Kurtz's birthday.  Three cheers!  He's a hell of  a guy.

Went to see a movie tonight.  Don't ask questions, just go see "Napoleon Dynamite".  Ok, if you're gonna ask questions, go here:  http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/napoleondynamite/.  But I'm tellin' ya, it's SO funny.  It's always the little indie films that give integrity to the film industry. 

Talk to ya later.

Hey, look! A post during normal waking hours. How novel! I'm awful sleepy. Why must I love the night so? Why must it beckon me like a two dollar whore to a sailor? I suppose the real question is, why do I come when it calls? Ah, the great unanswered mysteries of the Universe. Like, why do donuts have holes? Why can't the blue-footed booby land with a modicum of grace?

"The blue-footed booby got its name from the spanish word bobo, which means stupid fellow. Its lack of fear and clumsiness on land has made the species vulnerable to man."
 

Do a little dance! 
 
Ask a question, get an answer.  How's that for random trivia? If you've ever seen footage of these birds trying to land, it's really funny. Now where was I? Oh yeah, unanswered questions. Where are my pants? Ah, never mind. Found 'em.
So, obviously, I didn't have to go to Jury Duty again today. We'll see about tomorrow.
 
OK, folks, it's getting pretty far into the summer and that means we are rapidly approaching September. I know, I hate to think it, too, but there it is looming at us in the distance. However, the arrival of September brings with it...Talk Like A Pirate Day! That's right, September 19th is the day. Everyone should talk like a pirate all day because it's fun! Learn about it here: http://www.talklikeapirate.com/. I just wanted to remind everyone or give the 'heads up' to those unaware. This way, you can all practice your pirate talk early. Get audio tapes if you need to or rent some good ol' swashbuckling movies. "Pirates of the Caribbean" or "Bluebeard" aren't bad choices. "Aarrr! It's fun and yer mates'll think yer daft!"

OK, I'm off. Cheers.

Another late night.  So what else is new?  I was working today with the IT department at work to make some extra money because, hey, I like extra money.  And 12 hours (of installing new computers) will get me a good chunk.  I need it.  However, I didn't get home until 1:30 am.  This is bad only because I had to call to see if I had to go in tomorrow for the dreaded... JURY DUTY! 
This is the first time I've ever had to do it.  The idea of having to go in for that on my day off obviously leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  It just fuckin' blows.  And normally, with my luck, I figured I'd have to go in on the first day, so I wasn't looking forward to a mere five hours of sleep and then sitting in a hot, stinky room in a drab government building with a bunch of strangers looking miserable or acting crazy enough to try and get out of their obligation. 
But, to my surprise, the Gods somehow saw fit to bestow upon me some good fortune.  I get to sleep in tomorrow and spend the day as I please.  Huzzah!  Happy happy, joy joy!   So tomorrow I'll go to my friend Chris Mancini's place and watch the rough cut of the short film we worked on last month.   Looking forward to seeing it.  I felt good about the work I did on it.  It had been a while since I'd done any Art Directing and I wasn't sure if I was up to it, but much like riding a bicycle, it all came back and I did some fine work.  Yeah, that's right.  I'm patting myself on the back.  Whaddaya gonna do about it?  Heh.  Yeah, that's what I thought. 
Ok, so I suppose I'm off to bed.  I need some Morpheus time.  Tonight, may he fill our REM with pleasant dreams.  

I just took this pic the other night. Yes, with the phone again. It's Amoeba Hollywood, otherwise known as my Mecca, my Utopia, my largest investment property. ;) So much music, so little time. 

Well, since I've been so prolific here lately, I figured there's no reason to slow down now. This is a picture of the Jersey shore; Wildwood to be exact. I was visiting a few weeks ago and recently got a new cell phone with a camera and, well, you can guess the rest. 

It's a pattern I just can't break.  I come home from a friends' place; a fellow blogger, Codos- http://blowedupgood.blogspot.com/,  it's late and I'm tired, but here I am anyway, sitting in the glow of my 'puter screen, typing away.  But earlier I saw something that disturbed me. 
As I sometimes do, I turned on the telly when I got home.  I was flipping channels again, when I landed on one of those Time/Life CD series.  This one is called "Legends", and it's all classic rock from the 70's, i.e. Led Zeppelin, Bad Company, Boston, The Who, etc.  Speaking of which, who do I see hawking this version of an overdone collection?  ROGER DALTRY.  Yep, that's right.  The singer of The Who!
What the hell is that about?!  Is he so broke that he needs to do infomercials?  What- I mean how- I was just dumb-founded.  At the great expanse of the 'Sell-out' table, we need to put another chair for Daltry?!  I mean, c'mon, doing half a dozen 'Farewell Tours' is one thing, but to shill a CD collection so unneeded?  Well, I just felt dirty for him.  It just seems so wrong.
 

Ok, somebody must've put something in my drink.
 
That last entry is like a dream.  I was so delirious from lack of sleep.  Burning that candle at both ends this week working on stuff for that play.  Then went out for a couple beers without any dinner.  Gee, amazing I didn't see that crash coming. 

A little buzzed, extremely tired, and quite frankly, only a mere 20 bucks in my pocket.  This is a sad moment, indeed.  Sad words are easy; it's the happy ones that are hard to find.
And yet....Ooooo, new fonts.  New sizes!  Color!  Bold color!  The possibilites are many.
It's the little things that can make a mood.  Tomorrow is Friday.  I'm sure there's a deity to thank somewhere, I'm just too sleepy to do it right now.
 
Say goodnight Gracy.

I'm a member of an online poetry forum called Liquid Poetry. Sometimes we are given challenges to write things as an exercise. Recently we were given this painting and told to write whatever it inspired. Here is what I wrote: 

She knew the sun had come up only by the hour on the clock.
The blanket of grey merely turned a lighter shade as
daylight wrestled it's way into being.
She hardly needed the clock- she couldn't sleep
without his warmth telling her the future was secure.
She stared out the window into a wintery day,
everything a dirty white, grey or beige.
Hard to believe the house would never again
possess anything but this silence.
She knew outside would offer no more than branches creaking in quiet
accusation.
A tear burning a hot path down her face, she went downstairs.
A cup of coffee drunk apathetically, left half consumed on the counter,
the only trace of activity.
She put on her coat, picked up her umbrella in the front hall,
paused to look at a photo of the man
with whom she shared this home.
Turning and opening the door with one motion,
she left, cold air frosting damp cheeks.
The neighborhood as empty as her life now felt,
she walked alone through the wide paths,
cold, wet whiteness crunching beneath her feet.
Umbrella blocking an unfriendly wind,
no one watched her from their windows,
no one to help bear the slightest amount of grief.
She couldn't go on much longer;
the camel's back broke log ago,
leaving it to lay helpless and dying as vultures
plucked at its' hope,
rendering it spiritless.
She continued on toward the cemetery
to say goodbye for the last time,
her dark figure shrinking in the distance,
swallowed up by the vast, cold nothingness of snow.
------------

Ok, now that I have the pic thing figured out, I thought I'd post a few more poems to catch up.
--------------
Night Of The Burrows

Lying in the middle of a desert road,
or on the hood of the car, feeling comfortably numb,
knowing we'll never convince anyone
we followed burrows in the dark,
we were content with our adventure.
No, they didn't talk, but that doesn't mean
they didn't speak to us.
Full of mystery and humor,
they appeared everywhere, like a portent with a punch line.
Eyes glowing in my headlights like fiery orbs,
appearing in the dark like the Headless Horseman's steed,
but the miniature, circus-style versions.
So much terror-laced comedy, I wondered when the clowns would appear.
No delusion or hallucination could offer such apocalyptic amusement
as a small desert neighborhood overrun with donkeys.
It was as if the inhabitants of the homes had been changed by some curse.
Nonetheless, there was nothing to do but laugh.
No one else saw them; no one else would believe us, anyway.
I smile when I think of them.
You can think we're crazy. You can think we're delusional.
But you can't take our burrows.
They belong to us.

-------------------------

Where I'd Rather Be...

I look up at the round face of time on the wall
as it mocks me with it's pace of cold molasses.
Rust encroaches my brain and stiffens my joints.
I figure it's now or never, so my mind makes a break
for the fair skies beyond this cubicle.
A day like this is meant for the sand and surf,
I'd even take a chance on the Bermuda Triangle
over that florescent buzzing prison.
It's warm and breezy as I approach the docks.
I choose a comfortable boat for my psyche,
set sail in the warm sun.
With nowhere particular to go, I let the wind set my course
into the great expanse of blue.
Gleefully, the vessel of my conjuring has a stocked galley.
I grab a six-pack, inflate the dingy and tie it to the bow.
Laying in it, one foot in the water,
the sun encourages me to have a cold beer.
This is where I'll spend my Friday;
at least until 5 o'clock.

------------------------

Regarding Spring

Lying face skyward on the grass
I pray for clouds for my imagination to mold
into anything at all,
but it's an empty slate of blue
clear of everything but sunshine.

A glass half-empty day,
my forecast was lingering showers
as far as the mind's eye could see.
But then, like an umbrella in the downpour,
she appeared.

Blue, flower print sun-dress fluttered,
shading me from the sun,
showing me her long, dark curly hair,
her bright face smiling down upon me
like the sun hadn't been shaded at all.

Arms swaying back and forth
like a breezy little girl,
She asked if she could join me,
her voice like birds singing the song of Spring.
Without an answer, she did, and introduced herself
before we talked well into the afternoon.

And the sun remained in the sky;
I forgot about clouds altogether,
changing my forecast of rain indefinitely.

------------------

I was back in Philly for a friend's wedding a couple weeks ago and I saw something I haven't seen in years: storm clouds! I really miss thunderstorms living in L.A..  

Here is a picture of me when I was five. Sure, it's big, but it's a nice jacket and I knew I'd grow into it eventually. 

Ok, clearly I've gotten the hang of the use of images here. So maybe we'll see some more on occasion. Some are sure to embarrass, both me and the viewer, with any luck, so check back before too long.

If I were a South Park character...this is disturbingly accurate. 

Ok, I have to come clean. I am a child of the 70's TV generation. And I admit to still watching TV. It's in my blood. Ok, it's not the worst thing(or is it...?), but one has to admit, TV just ain't what it used to be. One more reality TV show about some kids finding a woman to marry their dad for love or money during the amazing race with big brother and I'm going to be in a clocktower with a rifle.
But I actually try to fill in the gaps with educational TV- like PBS. I saw a really cool show about the Revolutionary War tonight. Also, it turns out that I have three, yes, three, Public Television Stations. (Ok, I don't have cable. You can laugh all you like, but if I did I know all I'd do is sit in front of the Magic Friend Box, so I stick to the regular channels to limit my viewing time).
So, I flip over to channel 50 here in L.A., and there's this cute little redhead and an older man in a chef's hat in a kitchen. I figure, 'great, another cooking show', but as I sit there I notice this woman isn't talking about food, she's talking about some joke she heard somewhere. The man is preparing something on a cutting board and the woman is stirring whatever is in the pan. And for the next 30 minutes, that's all she does, other than talk gossip and make fun of the chef. Turns out he makes fun of her, too. And hardly anything is said about the food they're preparing except when she asks what they're making.
In a nutshell, she seems to be a Hollywood socialite that's never actually never stood by a stove before and the older guy just seems to really enjoy cooking but knows she can't really help so he makes her stir. And they yuck it up with each other because they're best friends. I was perplexed, and yet strangely entertained. Like I was watching a car wreck involving clowns.
They are John Crean and Barbara Venezia and the show is At Home On The Range. Apparently it's now only syndicated on local public TV in Newport Beach. But they made, like 228 episodes! It's crazy. I recommend watching it if only to prove it exists. But I'm laying odds you'll laugh. Really, just check it out. Here's the website: At Home On The Range.
I guess that qualifies as a link of the week/month/or whatever length of time it takes me to post again.
So there you have it. I like some weird TV. Well, I just like weird.

Greetings, bloggers! I've revamped this thing and it's much more presentable. I'm thinking of doing the image hosting as well, but in time. I need to get more pics together. This blog thing is tough to keep up with, as I don't always have time to sit down and update it.
Haven't written too much in a while. I worked on a short film written and directed by a friend of mine. That was in early June. It's called "Rainbow's End" from Myopic Productions.
After that I went to Philadelphia for a friends' wedding and to visit me mum. Philadelphia is so hot and muggy in the summer, I feel like a wet towel there so I try to stay away from that weather. As they say, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity."
Now I'm dressing up a theater lobby for a play directed by the same friend that directed "Rainbow's End". That will be done this Thursday. Then I'm taking a break. I have some other things I want to do for myself.
Hey, another friend of mine has a fine blog here. Go check it out: Cellar Door. Tell him Neil sent ya.