The Good Times Are Killing Me

 Everything, rocks, trees, humans, we all cast shadows. Is it to remind us of where we have been, what we have seen, or is it to say that life is always changing. I will not say adapting, that would imply things are always getting better, but they are always changing.

Winter is the quietest time of the year. No bird songs, no children playing, there are just little puffs of smoke coming from all the chimneys.

The sun rises every morning. The sun sets every evening. Why do we watch it every day? We know we had a day that was different than all the rest. That something went right, or far awry. We cannot remember the individual moments. They all seem the same, but the day as a whole was completely different. In fact you have never had a day like this before.

Waiting in Vain

I love Maines winter, but I can feel a tinge of spring in the sunshine.

Think of how big this world is. 7 billion people big. Millions of species big. This big world is just a speck of dust in the universe, let's enjoy it.

Mexico, Boston, New York, and Canada as much as possible in between all of those it's going to be a well travelled year.

McGill Once! McGill Twice!

This is a picture from the 18th floor of the Sheraton in Montreal. The city has the spirit of Boston and New York, but it's a bit feistier.  

 A cornucopia of ideas all in one drawing!

 I had the deepest existential moment when I took this picture. I am a man. I love, and all those I love will die. I hate, and I know it does me no good. I feel so that I may live, but I too will die. The thought that every woman I ever kissed, ever loved will die really influenced this shots inclusion of the local martyr (Ignacie). To think that with arms outstretched I can hold someone, and they may hold me. That we may love, but it's all going to wither, it just plain hurts.

 I dream things that never were and ask why not?

Is Time Ever New? Auld Lang Syne

 It’s New Year ’s Eve and as I sit here in the café sipping on good rum and the nectar of life: blues. I feel forced to think back about this past year, my irreverent mistakes, redefining myself, and learning how to appreciate these past nineteen winters, springs, summers, but especially my falls. By this I don’t mean autumn but when I felt weak and struggled. I hit the proverbial rock bottom this year. And I also climbed my mountain of self-loathing. There was always this unreasonable rhythm to life, certain moments last forever. Ten, Nine, Eight seconds left. I see a young girl of about 7 (she doesn't have any front teeth) running around the café smiling, giggling, and carrying this outrageous beach ball. Four, Three, Two it’s almost over, One. It’s over Happy New Year!

Winter Weary

The sun froze the land as it set that night casting cold shadow upon cold shadow. Out of the fields rose a last lazy breath of warm air.

The road not taken, and other poetic juxtapositions. 

As that warm air awakened and rose up ever higher. The sun burned a deeper orange no longer casting shadows, but merely saying goodnight.

I'll be in Montréal in January  2014

You've Got That Thing

 

               

L'esprit des étrangers

The spirit of the strangers: the ability to tell an unfamiliar person life lessons and travesties past in an attempt to clutch at their heart strings and get closer as people.

                

Boston is a magical city. The old lives within the identity of the new. The people have got that funk, that grasp on life most other parts of the country can't understand. It loves itself like no other. Boston is among my most favorite cities on this planet.

Suddenly Small

 I took this one in the largest library in the state of Maine. It seems that no one re-shelved the journals. I am between travelling right now; I will be in Boston this Saturday!

 It does not seem to take much these days to feel small, or slow.

It was in those last dying rays of sunshine on top of the cold mountaintop that he felt overwhelmed. They discovered that they would be best off by remaining at a little distance from one another. In the same way the need of society drives peoples together, only to be mutually repelled by the many prickly and disagreeable qualities of their nature. With all this said he had also considered that this life is finite; that he was simply conscious of the finer aspects of life if he lived it for himself and for others.