Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


Collective Consciousness, good one, that's hilarious Dude. There is nothing collective, or conscious about any of this...

Saturday, August 6, 2011


There are implications for breaking the law whether it's natural, cosmic, real or human. Of course every action is connected. Too bad the leaders, and the people they lead are completely disconnected from what is happening right in front of their eyeballs...

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Don't Stare at the Sun, it'll drive you to a void of Thought...

Just before sitting down I made this blown image of the sun casting out its photon light energy in all directions.  Both lens and exposure are manual in this shot, somehow the effect is appealing to me considering the transfer I was about to go on.

I believe it was Robert E. Lee who was quoted but not cited saying, "Fiction weakens [spoils] the mind."  Not sure if I agree or not anymore, he does however have a good point...

Physical Placement
In the middle of the daylight day two full earth rotations back from this, my body and mind came to a still sitting position on the hot shingled roof of the place where I sleep.  This spot I sat on was a completely exposed steep slant in the middle of the section that connects the main roof of the house to the big one over the two car carport. The cause of being there was work alone for hours up and down, and back up sweating without realization.  Up there is where it gets more hot than on the ground below.  Tar.  Radiant waves of solid heat do not seem to bother my emotions or form as hours pass, once again without realization.  The longer the exposure to our immediate physical environment, the better adapted we become.  Even in the blasting hot heat.  Although my eyes were protected from the sun's gamma and beta, the atmosphere and all else I could feel wasn't.

What it looked like
There I sat with my legs crossed tightly.  My back was straight, my torso erect.  The only neck I have came strong holding my head completely high perched above the rest of me facing the solar center of our system.  Underneath me at a slant between the hot sloping shingles and my sit bones was the blanket sized piece of gray carpet that I have held onto from the jeep I once owned, or thought I did anyway.  Back then, with that truck I could and often did drive anywhere without thought or consequence.  Those days have become completely gone forever because my connection to the actual emotional cost has been learned.  Gone for the reality of just being creates in me an understanding of what is for sale. Rationalization, justification, ownership, avoidance, separation and so on. With that I am afraid to unlearn having only a small understanding of why.  The colors of the blanket and the roof melded visually into one even though the blanket was softer, and less hot to the touch.

Electricity in the Brain Housing Group
Thoughts form in my skull from what my life has given me in experiences of being.  Unfortunately there is no logical way to convey to you the exact mechanism that designs the start of a specific human thought.  Mystery. 

Interlude with Visual Connection
The sun was a dime sized blazing disc in the middle of the sky pointing down directly at the center of my forehead.  In the calm hot fiery air my eyes assayed the white roof top in all direction as far as I could see without moving my brain.  All appeared white, even the space around me except for the bright red bricks of the chimney squarely morphing from the peak upwards and the out of focus vibrant green trees behind that.  Mental depth of field.  Hazard.  A sundry of items lie scattered about littering the steep pitched deck.  Every object in front of me was familiar save the feelings pouring out onto the the carpet, and a small patch of roof in the form of liquid sweat.  It was so quiet and still up there.  Wonder.  As the fluid left me, it made contact with a small piece of exposed shingle just outside the carpet edge.  For a second I could almost smell the salt water turn to vapor as soon as it made contact with the hot roof.  Essence of one's self is rarely understood, at that moment I was on the way to doing just that.

Specificity in the Inventory of  Visual Scanning
Without moving my body or head the optic recognition of senseless objects continues with little thought.  The narrow heavy blue steel cat's paw lied motionless just a few feet away out of reach.  It was sticking out on its side from underneath a trashed shingle.  It was apparent just by staring at its inert response that the tool was soaking up the heat without letting it go.  Holding on. 

Really, 94 Million Miles of an Absence of Space
Just then my eyes broke from the tool below me looking up towards the solar information disc above, some 94 million miles distant.  That orb of hot glowing gasses with a volume 1.3 million times greater than that of earth appeared dime to nickel size hanging motionless up above the white sky.  Blue is no longer.  Not only was the position of the northern hemisphere tilted on axis directly towards the sol, but the slanted roof I was perched on increased the visual angle.  Slant v. Slope.  Now I was still again soaking up the radiation without moving, only concentrating on what being felt like.  Inside my mind even that movement was slowing, which created space for a trickle of imagination.

Sound Vibration and Space
They say you cannot hear the sound of the sun, so I tried anyway.  Yes, there is no physical way that the deafening sound (to us here on earth) of the sun can be heard for the vibrations do not travel through the 94 million miles of vacant space vacuum between here and there.  Each and every atom in my human body takes up as much room as that space between here and the sun, that was my last thought before it all went away. My eyes were closing a bit just as the vibration became audible in my cortices.  Although the noise was made up, it was real as my mental landscape gave up the room to accept how easy it is to understand.  Distortion.  Electro-Magnetic sharp waves pulsating as a result of fiery hydrogen and helium gasses to name a few being the most powerful thing within my realm.  The light is on me immediately, however the sound is almost two decades behind at that exact second in time.  Confusion leads to more letting go and opening.

Breathe and Breath
The basic human function overlooked by our culture.  Time is irrelevant, a watch means nothing although watching is everything.  It takes many practices to get deep breathing to touch your diaphragm.  Many attempts of concentrating on a balance between the same length of inhales, versus the immediate transition to exhales without hesitation.  These practices allow you to focus on going deeper with inhales in succession each time moving right into the same length of exhales, back to a deeper inhale, matching exhale and so on.  Before long that inhale supersedes the times space allotted by the bounds of modernity and contact is made with the diaphragm, a feeling one never forgets or unlearns when it is experienced.  We all know that the diaphragm is the muscle under our lungs and above our stomach.  Feeling it which created a visual behind closed eyes is a whole other story.  In the scorch up high, no one dropped by as I began to free fall into the absence of thought with complete feeling.

First Movement out of the Trance
Om Shanti.  In my mind was a blank screen long enough to feel bliss, the journey took me to a destination not often seen.  A specific vision often comes to my mind, as far back as Christmas of 1976 or 77.  The better part of my life I would ignore the little picture or film in my mind's eye up until about twelve years ago when I was taught exactly how important it is to understand the visual impressions my mind provides me for free, in the true sense of the word.  These little clips are insights to the invisible forces of love and gravity, truth and what is real.  For the past few weeks I have been bothered while waking up in the middle of a night by an animated little cerebral video of a giant white three ring binder.  When I came out of my space vacant of thought or connection the first thing that I saw even though in light I was surrounded by darkness was that white three ring binder.  Somehow, the place was perfect for me to understand what was happening and hold onto what was being cast onto the inside front movie screen of my skull.  All of a sudden this plain white binder on an even brighter white backdrop opened up with invisible fingers attached to a just as invisible hand so that I could see the contents of the book.  White paper, completely blank.  The image was still for a piece, then the invisible fingers began to flip through the pages so that I could see three things.  First, there was nothing on either side of the paper.  Secondly, there was an infinite amount of pages from the beginning, the flipping would go on for eternity.  And finally, those blank pages are the empty guidelines not yet written for the future ahead of me, and us all passed the immediate now.

Conclusion leads to the Next Space
When I came back to earth reality sort of speak, I realized I was not sweating anymore.  My body was cooked even before I went into a meditative state and now distance had been traveled on the earth hurtling through at 55,000mph. How far had I gone while sitting there under the hypnosis of the information disc?  Wonderment.  My Indian Style motionless sit journey took me out for a spin of no fewer than 55,000 miles and what a ride it was considering I never left where the two roofs came together.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Dam (like damn) Pictures of the Week...

On Thursday afternoon Albemarle Rd., HWY 24/27 was closed in both directions at the big dip just passed the Lawyers Rd. and East Harris intersection because of a cracked weir holding back the swollen man made Forest Lake.  Outbound rush hour car commuter traffic on Albemarle heading east was a dam standstill nightmare all the way back to Independence, unless of course you were on dam a bicycle. 
Friday morning I rolled out of the house early with my little camera in the bag and headed over to check out how much progress was made from the overnight efforts of the CFD and some contractors to drain the lake and relieve pressure on the dam weir.  When I stood on the east bank of the lake, the first thing I noticed besides the huge generator pumps and their lines was the roof of a car.  HWY 24/27 had been reopened long before I arrived. 
Here is a look at the riprap application on the backside of the stress fatigued dam.  A few meters down below the sloping terrain is 24/27.  Although Forest Lake is not a huge body of water, it had enough volume behind the dam to cause a major problem across Albemarle and in the neighborhood on the other side of the highway on down stream.  *Notice what appears to be a big pile of condoms that were cleared from the pipes. The man on the phone might be calling the mayor's office to find out what to do with them...
The dam draining seemed to be winding down, the big motors went silent.  I rode around to the west bank of the lake and talked to a few folks from the press corps, including a familiar staff photographer from the Observer.  This photographer who will remain anonymous for the time being or until you use your intuitive deductions skills, asked me if I had rode all the way from the big buildings just to get a shot of the car.  I gave him the brief organic explanation about my daily commute which made him smile and almost start to laugh.  When I asked him about the scoop on the car, he told me that the bigger story was that the pumps continuously stopped working through the night.  "Yeah", he said, "One of the engineers told me that the big pipes draining the lake kept getting clogged up which caused the motors down to shut down often.  Apparently there were 25 years worth of condoms in the lake that were jamming the pipes."  Oh, I get it, you are making a dam joke.  Very funny.
Seriously, what about the dam car, was there a body in it?  We talked a bit more about the project unfolding in front of us.  My intuitive self felt like there was no human in the sunken car, but that feeling was based on my scanning of what I could see of the passenger compartment and the body language of the CMPD brass standing quietly on the hill.  The contents of the trunk was the only question, there was a physical block I could not feel passed to know for sure whether or not there was a body in there. 
The news crews started packing up and it was time for me to get going as well.  I overheard one of the cameramen mention that 'they' will not pull the car out while the cameras were set up.  The waiting game was over and the Observer guy without offering to drive me into town told me to be careful on my ride in.  "Thanks, if I'm not you'll read about it in that paper you work for", I told him as I rode away beating him and his motorized van to East Harris and beyond. 
This parting image was the most interesting in the set to me.  Tree stumps at the bottom of Forest Lake, I would have never thought that the floor of the lake looked like this until I saw it myself.  It was clearly obvious that this man made lake was one day natural wooded space.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011