merry christmas

Project Homeless: Citizen's Groove

It seems that no matter the city I reside in – the very core of it can be overwhelming and certainly San Diego has its groove. From the glitz to the poor – there is activity everywhere and it doesn't seem to stop. People coming and going – looking for an answer to their complicated lives.

Amazing to me are the number of homeless I encounter every day, more so than anywhere I have lived yet. There are entire blocks that are lined with shopping carts – overflowing with possessions, recycling, trash and all covered with blue tarps and blankets. There are people – couples too, spread here or there in the middle of a sidewalk with their sleeping-bags and blankets.

The sight is one that is heartbreaking to see - “God bless” and a cheerful “Merry Christmas” do not 

ever seem to be enough. Nevertheless, - if all one can do is offer a kind word, I can only imagine they are grateful to be recognized.

Their livelihood is desperate during this season. It's cold and wet (in most of the world) and their hiding place is harder to find. But if you're one that rarely has a quarter or dime in your pocket – remember that a nod and a hello can go a long way. They, too, are our neighbors and they too understand the season's urgency - and the longing for it's peace.

Free The Press!

"I sat there a long time, and thought about a lot of things. Foremost among them was the suspicion that my strange and ungovernable instincts might do me in before I had a chance to get rich. No matter how much I wanted all those things that I needed money to buy, there was some devilish current push me off in another direction – toward anarchy and poverty and craziness.” (H.S. Thompson)

Such is the life of a journalist. It's true!


“Curiosity killed the Cat,” is a serious understatement for someone who seeks to discover the world. Whether it be investigative questions or evaluating, intensely, acquired information: the journalist knows no rest, no fortune nor any alliance. At least, this is their intended purpose.


Several weeks ago, a man by the name of Ted Koppel wrote an op-ed piece for the Washington Post coming down on the likes of FOX News and MSNBC. Though not flawless, the old time journalist had valuable things to say in the face of current media standards. In short – such broadcast networks are throwing away the pursuit and delivery of fact-based-journalism. Rather: they are corporations, one to the right, one to the left – that are touting for their audience an opinion they hope will be bought – at the price of truth.


Koppel noted that 30/40 years ago, though every journalist has their own strong opinion, the networks, the newspapers stumbled over their persuasions to deliver a story that often had many sides. The audience had only one task: decide for themselves how they felt about it. And in the modern age, a vicious cycle tit for tat has taken place to feed the audience what they should think and in turn the audience demands it.


But I find that those truly passionate about story-telling, do so in a way that makes the world a fair and just place. In the US, this means that the First Amendment becomes a clear ambition – a right that is defended and defined. Oh, it's true – FOX and MSNBC, they are using their First Amendment right, but they are also calling themselves “fair” press and they are
not.


Hunter S. Thompson, while out of his mind, most of the time, is revered by journalists for a reason: he integrated himself so far into the stories he covered – that you were only left with plot and the characters. Your distaste or your pleasure came from your observances, not because you were told.


No riches or wealth ever truly came from telling other people's stories. Rather, more appropriately, it was a passionate business that kept it's constituents in the brink of drama – and gained them public respect. 


This is not to say a journalist is not worth their time or their story per word and page, but it does mean, that the average journalist doesn't enter the profession for the flare of money falling off trees, no matter how nice that would that be for all the stuff we thing we need.


And it must be noted that we are living in a generation that feels the pains of sensational media news rather than special interest stories and investigative or critical thinking and the presentation of facts.


Where it will go: only time will tell. But certainly I set out to do journalism the write way - the way that inspired our Founding Fathers to establish my right to do it - and present each story as it is - to the best of my ability, then? Let you decide. 


My instincts are wild and take me to absurd places where outrageous people have insane ideas, but certainly nothing is out reach or impossible - and because of that alone, while it might rustle a few feathers, or "do me in before I had the chance to get rich," - I go after it anyway.

Take a Breath

"What decreases in a culture of affluence is precisely and strangely...time
-- along with wisdom and friendship." (Richard Rohr)

Time...how many opportunities in a day do you take just for...time? Those few moments to yourself where the small desperate prayer escapes your lips? Or perhaps that breath you needed during an anxious moment and didn't bother to acknowledge? The society we live in inhales busyness as if it could possibly go out of style. And each and every being that buys it – knows no exhale. It is suffocating.

Yet if you, if I – would just take a minute and let all the stress of the day pass, even if only for a moment, perhaps the peace the heart craves would exist continuously.

As of late: I have been forced to embrace those moments of time – it seems I didn't take advantage of its presence before. So, now, as I search for daily solutions to my nuances, I am confronted with the need, with the ability to avert my eyes outward and my thoughts toward forceful, crashing white waves. Perhaps it is the season beckoning me to remember what it is in the earth right now. Or perhaps, it is calling for me to still – and release, whether it lasts a minute or a day...it is time and beauty that can be the most rejuvenating and it demands my attention.

Watching the film, Anna & The King, last night, there is a moment, when she becomes flustered as to why she was not rushed to a promised home outside the palace walls. The Prime Minister responded, “In Siam, everything has it's own time.”

It is this idea that not everything is meant for a rush. Not every moment needs to be “busy” with stuff or events. And not every occasion must be surrounded by others. Rather, to be alone, and in an order that defies chaos – such carries a commanding authority that can release grace and clarity.

So in this season that celebrates the coming of Greatness, as you hustle to keep the Grinch from stealing Santa Claus: remember that small family in the barn – who's time was a breath, a moment of release and quiet, - bringing clarity to the world - one subjected to the insanity of busy-work.   

anticipating the cramp

airports, frustration, security. sigh. headed for our destination this morning did not start out as ideal due to the un-pleasantry of the the security check. nevertheless: we made it through and made it to the gate as they were wrapping up the boarding. once we settled into our claustrophobic and cramped airplane seats, i fidgeted and fussed until i could maintain the illusion of comfortable, although i was quite aware that nothing i did would truly satisfy my butt or my back. 

nevertheless, once we began to taxi the runway - i noticed the line of airplanes rounding the curve ahead of us and behind us, each waiting his turn to press full speed and lift to the skies above. it was a strange, amusing and it made me think. 

what if our adventure required and included patient anticipation? would we really feel the same passion that drives our very core? i'm not suggesting that chaos must exist for one to experience life in full. in fact i am suggesting that some middle ground is often necessary and welcome. and sometimes, we have to wait our turn for the next big thing.

i'm not being terribly clear? let me rephrase. often times in our life we find that we are the "verge of something," but never really taking off. we become frustrated and even feel as if our life is too mundane. but perhaps that is just the wrong perspective. perhaps our turn is coming and because we're too caught in the frustration of "not getting anywhere"- we miss the thrill of the take off. and because we've missed the take off, it's possible that we will not recognize when we have reached our destination. and of course, as such, we may never really reach our goal and therefore be constantly "stuck." 

in other words: enjoy the process. 

like the giant aircraft i watched, steadily taking it's turn to push down the runway, each person will experience a time of waiting, a slow step forward. and with our eyes upfront, instead of to the side or behind- we will get that chance to speed up and fly high. 

and i have to say: i'm so glad we made it to california-  and out of those cramped squares they call "seats."

"surrealism is myself"

today, i had the privilege of seeing the late works of, artistic genius, salvador dali. though, the style changed and even progressed, the imagery did not. i also found his photographic collaborations with philippe halsman fascinating and was thoroughly impressed with how many pieces dali incorporated his wife. there are a few new pieces that i had not seen that i can certainly add to my collection of favorites- one being in voluptate mors - which dali used seven naked women to form the shape of skull. the artistic piece itself was done in charcoal while halsman is credited for the photo of a tuxedo-top hat dressed dali next to the posed women. i even find it rather comedic. another i found rather fascinating was a drawing that appeared to have the madonna and child subtly encompassed in an atomic explosion, dated 1957. unfortunately, i do not recall the name of work- but it was intriguing. of course, there was some odd interest when i noticed a rather abstract piece hanging on the wall toward the end of the exhibition - and as i studied it wondering why it seemed like a familiar shape (or something like it and surrounded by artistic color and design), i realized that i must be looking at what seemed to be a, well, "private work of art." (awkward? perhaps.) as i got closer the description on the wall, lo and behold- it was entitled: topological contortion of a female figure becoming a violoncello. certainly, due to dali's interests later in life, i can imagine that the work has its own significance. and my interpretation of its presentation is simple and i'm sure the snobby critics would tell me i'm ridiculous. but hey, the exhibit was beautiful, and because it was mr. dali, it was also rather amusing.

Window Pain: Don't Just Stand There

it's become the current controversial video. eminem and rhianna band together for a music video that scratches deep into the intensity of domestic violence. the song carries and eerie and even beautiful melody but the controversy swirls around two people who have experienced, participate in the pain of it's lyrics. while some believe that eminem writes the song as a glare on his problems with former wife kimberly anne scott- who he has divorced twice; eminem stated in an interview that he wrote the song, partially, with rhianna in mind- and unsure whether or not she would come on board. nevertheless, the video has raised flags. why? mostly because the song offers no real resolution in the end and because the video uses glitzy actors and therefore the violence seems glorified. others want to know why rhianna would sing such a song in the aftermath of her tumultuous relationship with chris brown.

but i would like to add a few things here, and why, i can at least appreciate - perhaps the unclear message- and it's surrounding issues. first and foremost, everyone knows that eminem likes to rile up his audience, and in this case, i think it's a fine piece to get people talking- about the ramifications of domestic violence. his intention or not, let's take it for what it is. it's important to note that meagan fox, who stars in the video - has donated all of the money that she would receive to a woman's shelter - one that takes in and caters to victims. finally, for the video itself: it may be "hollywood quality" - as is any war or complicated depiction in film (it's what they do) - and rhianna may even still be suffering some of the pain she endured in her recent relationship, but sometimes, pain can create - artistic things not only in the lives of it's audience, but call attention to those that need to hear it  for their own good and turn something wretched into something beautiful.

it's true, the video doesn't offer that happy ending we all want and crave. but who's to say that it couldn't inspire those who suffer to take steps toward bravery, and a deeper healing? the fact is the abused do run back to their abuser many times before they develop enough strength to leave. the love, the hate- it's all there, and it.is.terrifying. it's a sad truth- but real. there are a plethora of both women and men who swallow domestic violence in their homes each and every day-  this is what it looks like and sometimes worse. so why not ask: how can we help them out of the pit they are in? and what message should we be offering- perhaps one of hope, perhaps one of love....?

those who live and have lived in such desperate situations have done so alone in the dark and in confusion. maybe it's time they know they're not alone anymore and maybe it's time to promote a discussion that, while difficult, is often ignored. perhaps such a shocking video and touchy subject can be the very thing to say- "this is the way [out]...walk in it."

"therefore i am going to allure her; i will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her.
there, i will give her back her vineyards, and make the valley of achor [trouble] a door of hope. there, she will sing as in the days of her youth..."
hosea 2.14-15

click here for the national domestic violence hot-line website

pennies-a-fleeting

"i suddenly found myself alone in the street with no money. my last dollar was gone.
I walked five miles up colfax to my comfortable bed...the nights in denver are cool, and i slept like a log."

(pg45, on the road, kerouac)

there's something about it, being on the road, swirling in adventure- and not having a single penny to your name. it's the plight of the "starving artist." It's the fateful case for writers and actors and musicians- who all want to tell the world about...well, something. and on a quest for the next big thing to apply our imaginative skills toward, we run out necessary pieces of paper, the punitive nickels & dimes that make life tick. because, why not? we need a beer along the way, or a pretty hunny to share it with. but isn't that what makes it all worth it?

i love the idea of adventure. i love the moments of throwing cares out the window for a good laugh and grand piece of artwork. it's the design of my life and i can sleep soundly knowing that even when my journey isn't glamorous...it is epic. and i wouldn't trade one moment.

so what does an epic life look like? well- how about the time i didn't have a car and had to walk to campus? i met a few homeless and hippies- we ate pbj. or how about the time i left behind a small beach town for the big bad city (ok, so maybe it's not HUGE)? then of course there were the 24 hour trips to the beach to listen to a friend tell me all about her joey kramer drum stick. or there's the friend, i know, who saw killer whales in the wild and the family member who made a 20-driving trip (instead of flying) across the country, for the heck of it and then again, once upon a time- i slept on a dirt floor in a mountain village just after consuming the tastiest pork i'd ever eaten.

certainly, yes, there was the time when i ran out of cash and had wait tables at a bar or the friend who left the cool of denver because of a partner's discrepancies. and once i totaled a car and didn't have to have my spleen removed (such a strange organ). there, of course, was a moment in life when i worked full-time, went to school full-time and ate bagels and chedder for dinner.

but you know what? i still made time to climb mountain and watch a meteor shower. i still found it possible to skip along the ocean shoreline in the dark. and oh, how fascinating!  all of those days and moments, all of those people i am surrounded by, for better and worse and changing- live a life to it's fullest extent. they are artists and people with stories and unique events that make them, make me, what we are.

no: i don't think you have to go broke to live an epic life, although you may find a few dollars missing on occasion. but when they are- how will you react? will you walk up the hill and find a way to sleep soundly?

i dare you to try it. and keep moving. the "west" is waiting.

grubby thumbs & truck-drivers

it's true, it's already been a week into august and i have not had a single update here. but that doesn't mean i have not been thinking. and on this occasion, reading. 

i began reading on the road by jack kerouac. the book is something of a "beat-classic," and while i have only begun- i find myself drawn to kerouac's curious tale of his hitch-hiking destiny to the west. drawn from his story, he discusses his experiences catching rides from various truck drivers, and anyone who had the space to spare. 

"and what a driver...hardly paid any attention to me. so i could rest my tired soul, for one of the biggest troubles, hitchhiking is having talk to innumerable people, make them feel that they didn't make a mistake picking you up..." (p14)

how often do we take pleasure in letting our soul rest, breathing silence, because we are so often trying convince another of our credibility, our person-hood and our worth? or perhaps, how often are we on the other side- the person testing another? 

the journey of our lives, the road we travel is busy. like the man sticking his grubby thumb out for a ride, we are drooling for adventure. and it is good. a trip out west. but we forget along the way? a little rest is needed - a soul without obligation. to trust and to be trusted, the safety, the rest, the peace that comes is ever so necessary. 

it is something- that i do not wish to forget. soon, i will take my own trip out west. and it will be exciting and adventurous and swirl with amazing things i've never done before, and guarantee i will want to do again. but in the midst of it all- a moment to inhale the still will be more than required. it is the perspective of life and the joy of rejuvenation. 

i have known truck drivers, and even have an uncle in the profession. i can only imagine his time on the road is filled with contemplation. 

and like him, those like him, and jack kerouac- the road can be exhausting. and the fumes we live on: whether it be financially or the energy- need a moment for our minds to clear and our souls to settle. the west is still there and we will arrive, but in order for it to be so in the fullest capacity, we must find the air to breathe. 

just for now

the end of the month has come and i have to say, it's turned out fairly well. let's see: i've taken a few night swims, played silly games at an arcade, taken pictures on a playground, seen one of the best films i've seen in a long time (inception), had my bagel eaten by a dog and done just a tad bit of traveling to see my grandparents- which involved interesting conversation and tales i never knew. coming in august? well, a fascinating salvador dali exhibition comes to the museum, i'm headed to california to taste wine and surf the waves, reading authors such as jack kerouac and hunter s. thompson...and perhaps a trip to water world, the weather is sizzling, after all. 

but right now, i have to admit that i'd rather time just stop. have you ever had those moments? everything seems to fit, and yet a camera is just not savvy or wide enough to capture it. that's about how it feels right now. oh, of course, who wants anything to stay the exact same forever? no one. but if there was a way to make a moment last, hold onto it's goodness, i suppose that is what i would wish for right now. 

i suppose it is these moments that i become most introverted and contemplative. it is in these moments that i find myself formulating and in such a way that rests. whatever my thoughts, no matter their count, seem to come and go at ease. ideas are able to become just a little clearer and i can grasp how to approach the next movement i make. it is not confusing- it just is- and the contentment is just there. there is no worry of what action i will jump to- i'm not thinking about that part.

richard rohr says, "contentment is from within...not expecting the future to be any different than it is right now." 

and i would have to say, "yeah, it's like that..."

proper religion, part 2

in time past: when did it become the norm for religious thinkers to impose their interpretation of their religion on the politics they practice? this is not to say that a man's personal persuasions will never influence his political vote or view, and that's fine~ but to turn away from the heart of love in order to force others into that persuasion is as dark as the sin they claim punishable by law or persecution. 

but let me be more clear: when addressing the cause of christ's life: one must be fully aware that he never involved himself in the political upheaval of his day. rather; he reached the heart of the people, on a deeply personal level- that they would know love. what's more, is everyone that encountered him- had a choice to receive him or not. no one was forced. and everyone was forgiven. he walked a mile in the shoes of all, and still he loved without prejudice. 

i believe we are living in a time, like the catholic charasmatic renewal, 30-some years ago, where the face of religion is expanding once again. i believe we are in a generation that is seeing and approaching God above with new eyes and new discoveries. this does not mean that those who would follow their evangelical traditions more closely are wretched people, nor does it mean that their traditions are wrong- they are not! but - there is a generation that is finding that God is more than the big band and the cliq of the mega church- it is a generation that is expounding on the purposes of heaven in the coffee shop, in the streets, over a bbq, or even over smoking a pipe and sharing photographs. 

the hands and feet of jesus are desperate to be in the earth, not in the church the building. they are desperate to care for the earth, be among nature and find God in all that he creates, not just what is mandated by the church, which is run by men's interpretations. not only so, but the expansion and value for social justice in the earth has exploded- and this, i believe is right and good. this is the compassion that is necessary and desired by the One who established the universe.

it is the renewal of a faith and a discovery of a generation. by no means is it intended to harp on the previous generations findings, but it must be allowed- and to those who oppose- let it be. this generation only wants to "go into all the world..."

"at least i'm living"

"i have  to have something so that when i don't have any ideas and i'm not getting anywhere, i can say to myself, "at least i'm living; at least i'm doing something; i'm making some contribution." - it's just psychological." --richard p. feynman 

or is it? in most cases, i think the answer is yes- both/and or perhaps non of the above. confused? don't be.

in the society we live in today, boredom is not acceptable. the buzz of everyday life is prevalent to one's worthiness that it's self depressing when we're not doing anything- that is to say- a little contemplation and peace of mind is down right --a crime. and it should not be. why? because it is vital and necessary. we all need to "re-charge" and burning out is never a profitable feeling.

however- letting the world pass us by when we could making an impact is just as great of a misfortune. and it can be just as much a self-loathing experience when one finds themselves bitter and grave toward the world- offering nothing- and not recognizing the power within them to give something.

"it was effortless. it was easy to play with these things. it was like uncorking a bottle: everything flowed out effortlessly. i almost tried to resist it! there was no importance to what i was doing, but ultimately there was. the diagrams and the whole business that i got the noble prize for came from that piddling around..." --richard p. feynman

my friends, i believe that when we realize just who we are- and just what our capacity truly is- nothing is impossible. what's more is that when we find something we're sincerely passionate about and when we let go of the worry of trying to please everybody, the work itself becomes effortless and we are able to accomplish great things, even if we think it's just a little "messing around." in some form it can and will contribute to the world.

between the first and last sentences of that chapter: feynman explained that he had faced a time while at cornell university where, frankly, he was burnt out. and the offers he was getting from other colleges were daunting, particularly because they were expecting something of him, he did not think, he could truly provide. nevertheless; he realized that he couldn't worry about living up to their expectations that truly, he just wanted to "play" with physics. by this: his enjoyment and passion for what he did returned.

i find his process inspiring. certainly there are times when we all feel stuck in a rut. but rather than sitting idle and frustrated, not to detract from times of needed rest, why not "piddle" around and just see what beautiful things pour out of us? it just might make a difference ...all the way around.

...a mantra: a series in water, 2

proper religion - part 1

last week, i sat with my grandfather (pa-pa) as he recounted stories to me about the catholic charismatic renewal in the 1970s. he and my grandmother were at the center of it in lima, ohio and there were plenty of traditionalists that did not approve. but one story struck me more than the others- and that was his account of my other grandfather, bob gallagher (who has been gone for several years). pa-pa told me that while many traditionalists were unhappy at their group's charismatic exploration: mr. gallagher was the only one of them that was not. in fact, his comment was something along the lines of, "they only want to pray, leave them alone."

call me sentimental, but to hear one grandfather praise the other with such honor about a time that seemed to invite tension among church members, meant a great deal. 

it seems to me, over the centuries- that division, in the church, is often caused by self-agenda. every denomination and sect of christiantity (and it happens in most religions)- has it's own interpretation of the the scriptures and practices necessary to lead a holy life. diverging from means ridicule and condemnation. what most forget is that Jesus' invitation was to all and he never made it political. truly religion in the hands of man is corrupt. and i am a firm believer that each generation must decide for itself how to be the hands and feet of Jesus among it's own. that doesn't mean that one way is more perfect than the other, and one won't make mistakes. but i do believe that God wants every to explore him the fullest extent- which also means we must be receptive to where another person is, that we may not be- that is extend a heart of graciousness.

knowing that two groups of people in the same body were at such interrogating odds- is saddening. but it happened. as it did with martin luther and many other radicals over time in church history (against charismatic and evangelical sectors too) that have stood up against tradition. no, this is not to say that tradition is bad, it is not! and it can be comforting, uplifting, sentimental and welcoming.  but that does not mean change cannot happen for those in need of it. and it does not mean that a generation of people cannot explore the essence of their Creator in such a way that will move them, and sweep their peers toward higher and better in a life of Christ. 

i have one grandfather who did just that. and another who patiently stayed with what he knew all his life. and both are (were) men who gave everything they had to One who gave them a name. each came out on top as a  man who impacted his world, and accomplished great things in the earth- on the account of others to the Glory of Above. and to each, i say: thank you...

Certainly one of the highlights during my trip to state of Ohio was the morning photo-shoot I went out on with my cousin (and her boyfriend), who is from St. Louis. She is also a photographer and it was a unique to experience the sentiment of our home town. We headed down near St. John's Catholic church and explored the neighborhood, where frankly, there were a number of abandoned buildings and interesting corners to be the focus of our artistic sense. I was not only impressed with Meagan's eye, but also with how easy it was to capture her fun and captivating personality. It was definitely one of the most fun and engaging shoots I've been on. There is so much more to come.

stuffed

for hours, 12 to be exact, stuffed in a car...somebody, get me out. that's all i could think the last four hours, at the very least. don't get me wrong, i love road trips, always have. but the fact that i got little to no sleep the night before, didn't really make it easy to be curled up in a seat, craving the comfort of my own bed. not only that, but driving can be exhausting, even with energy springing from my toes pressing the pedal. i suppose what i am most grateful for, despite the discomforts, was the company- a few good laughs, an audio book and interesting conversation. it made the car ride worth the exhaustion. and of course, the ability to shower, eat well and pass out after. it's true, sheer driving gives no great room for deep thought, but certainly it gives way to a journey not explored. yes, even the same route can bring about new ideas and thoughts that were not experienced before. there is a learning experience to be had and each mile driven can lead to it in a way that was not done before. of course, then again, i was just glad to, finally, finish the "getting to"....my beauty zzz's are essential.

**all photos taken with camera phone: moto cliq with google 

(top- entering tn middle-indianapolis airport bottom- cincinnatti, oh)

trippy and loathing it

"And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back"

(raoul duke)

last night; my friend maggie took me to intermezzo cafe for a little celebration treat. this was the second time in a week that we'd been here, and ironically for a second turn, our conversation lead to effect that illegal drugs have on a person's brain. what began this most bizarre exchange was my mention that i had recently watched the "cult classic," if you can call it that- fear and loathing in las vegas. johnny depp's portrayal of hunter s. thompson - though called raoul duke in this instance- is rather cinematic to say the least and it was one film, that well, i was glad ended. not to say that the plot, nor the narration didn't hold any ground or message, but since the entire film is one big drug trip, interrupted by scenes of intense vomiting, it's safe to say that one viewing is enough for me. the fact is: i can handle guts and gore of a war film or perhaps a solid action flick, but vomiting, my friends? well, that's just where i draw the line. stomaching that- makes me want to hack it back up in regret.

nevertheless, the film gave interesting insight to man known for being a revolutionary in his own right, and i suppose, i could cross the line and say thompson was down right crazy. but he was known for participating, madly, in his stories. this called: gonzo journalism. not only so, but his extensive drug and alcohol use was common knowledge.

ironically the film plays out a journalist sent out on a story about a motorcycle race and he drags his friend and proclaimed attorney - the two ensue in an alternate world "adventure," if i dare say, that is seduced by lsd among other insane substances. the hallucinations are awkward and uncomfortable. and my friend, maggie, says to me: "that movie is my anti-drug." good thing, her stories are fascinating and wild enough without tales of 3d scaley lizards in a bar.

johnny depp's pose of the thompson character displays serious indignity. but i admit that the draw beyond this illicit man's brain had some perspective to offer in the run down of a dwindling movement 40 years ago. then again, has history repeated itself to the point where this film remake is testifying to a modern societal downturn in a failed utopian pursuit?

project homeless: chapter 1, the bridge

i had never been here before and i wasn't really sure i knew what i was doing. but i stepped through the hole in the fence, with richie following and headed toward the bridge. there were three men hanging over the wall, talking and looking out over the city. a fourth one approached. we introduced ourselves and i offered them our water-cliff bar & orange supplies. all of the men took several things from the bag and told me it would be ok to walk about and take pictures, which of course, they knew i was there for. it's not like my camera was hiding --hanging on my neck. 

three of them walked away as i started to inspect the area of a few good shots. lamar, stayed however, and we engaged in a fairly light-hearted conversation with him. he said he'd been on  the street for about a year. he never said why. he typically "hustled" during the day where-ever he could, but he also was consistent about finding plastic and trash to take to the local recycling center. he pointed out, on the train tracks where he was able to collect materials. 

his toothless grin was charming and richie entertained him while i walked off for a few minutes to examine their living quarters. there was no way to explain it except to say: trash was everywhere. the fine art of it all was the sleeping bags strewn across the bridge or perhaps a shirt or pants hanging over a box or a fence. moreover - there were "caves" built with old mattresses, boards, tarps, and blankets where each other them slept. they basically looked like the fort you made in your back-yard as a kid....but with more dirt and trash. these men were survivors. and these men were making the best of their current circumstances. 

one of the appeals, lamar told us, of this rustic place, was the view. the city shone on every side of them. and when the lights went out at night, it was rather spectacular. he even commented on how fascinating the fireworks were on the fourth of july. certainly this "house" had enough comfort to offer men who had no other place to rest. for the most part, he noted, the train was the only heavy noise that kept them awake, but i assume they also get used to it. 

the time spent, was well served, and well learned. what i captured, i cannot forget. and there will be more to think on as i keep working through the photos....more to come.....

a mantra

counting clouds

july, it's my favorite month of the year. summer is in full swing, it's the month that i was born and there is always an excuse to "take a dip." and right now, i'm just lingering. tonight, sitting by the pool, there are clouds in the sky, but i can still see the moon. the air is cool and comfortable. such a relaxed state of mind, i want to stay right where i am. it's true, i am no longer simply referring to the weather. my brain is on and i cannot stop trying to piece together the puzzles in my head. ironically, i am aware that i do not have all the pieces...

i have always had the ability to look ahead, to, at the very least, have an idea of what might be next and how i could prepare for "its" arrival. tonight, i can barely see past the next moment. and i don't know if it is a sense of awe that strikes me or a content confusion. oxymoron? probably- but the fact remains that i am having to learn what it means to live for today, for right now and thoroughly enjoy it, should "enjoyment" be the precarious necessity. and should the moment require sadness, then that too, must also be felt and understood. these are sacred things.

my hopes are with me. my emotions about them are with me. but my fears are with me too. nevertheless, in such a moment, they come and pass until one collected thought makes sense of them all. if i am behind, i can wake tomorrow to catch-up. if i am ahead, perhaps i can slow down. if i am un-nerved, there is nothing i can do about it now, so why let it swallow me whole?

do i believe what i am writing? there are moments i do. but in my humanity, there are moments i do not. nevertheless, i am accepting that the moments exist for me, for my perspective, for my character. 

the voice of eli

tonight i watched the book of eli. needless to say, by the end of the film, tears had welled up. the story had come full circle and was truly amazing. 

a man fought to save the only copy of the bible left in the world. his survival skills were beyond that of all those he met. he had a destiny for which he was determined to fulfill. 

"the lord is my shepherd, i shall not want. he makes me lie down in green pastures. he leads me beside still waters. he restores my soul. he leads me in the path of righteousness for his name sake. yea, though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death, i will fear no evil, for thou art with me..." psalm 23

when the book itself had been stripped from him, he realized that it was not the earthly possession that was important, rather the guidance from the voice he had heard and the words that breathed life on the pages- that which he had learned. 

when he arrived at his destination, the words he had read over and over- were in his mind and heart- and he was able to record the entire book, from beginning to end that it might maintain light in the world. what's more, is that he had been blind- and the only remaining book had been in braille. so when it fell into the wrong hands, the word could not be used for evil, but for good. 

"i will bring the blind by a way they did not know, i will lead them in paths they have not known, i will make darkness light before them, and crooked places straight. these i will do for them and not forsake them" isaiah 42.16

the young woman he had befriended along the way, did something even more spectacular- she carried on his mission- to reach those who had not heard, and fight the good fight, in the name of righteousness. 

it is an apocalyptic film that not only maintains the nature of man, but shows that even in the midst of that is lawlessness, there "is a voice crying out in the wilderness, even when no one is listening, even when it is not changing people, just to keep the common untruth from changing us." (richard rohr)

persons unknown

nbc's summer drama, persons unknown, is a bit of a tag to the ending of abc's lost. now granted, i never got into lost, and i should probably give it a second try. and i'm certain, that for lost fans, persons unknown won't compare. however, the mysterious show has kept my attention and i'm interested in what happens next. s

even people wake up in an abandoned hotel - without a clue as to who would kidnap them or why. cameras surround the island ghost town as well as electro-shock security and no identifiable way to get out. there are mysterious door men and asian cuisine  that do not seem to know any more than the constituents do about their presence in the town. the camera rocks back and forth between and full screen characters and the eye of the cameras watching them- creating an eerie and bizarre horror film thriller. not only so, but from the outside - a journalist is following one of the disappearances and his interest could get him injured, if not killed. the dialog and writing are simple, maybe too simple among the characters and it's obvious that the plot is nothing new, but i suspect that the odd twists and turns of the storyline will, at the very least, keep an audience in tune. 

i do wonder, however, if the show might be too intense for a summer fling. nbc's shows have struggled for one reason or another in the last couple of years, and thus far, abc is trumping their ratings with the bachelorette and true beauty after just three episodes. it's also been reported that it was originally created for syfy -and certainly - that comes out in the various scientific problems they tackle to solve throughout the course of the show.  it is also being directed by none other than michael rymer (battlestar galactica, which i whole-heartedly enjoyed). nevertheless, nbc picked it up. 

needless to say, if you're in need of a crime, mystery-thriller, this might be worth watching. 

genevieve garcia

taken june 11, 2010

Project Homeless: Panhandling Poet

"What kind of stores are you looking for?" he asked me.
"Eh, I'm just browsing today, thanks though."
"Well if you were to give me four words, and were to hear the most beautiful poetry you've ever heard, do you think you could spare some change?"
"I don't have any change," I spouted, "but I could get you a sandwich if you're hungry."
"Yeah! Sure, Ok, so what four words do you have?"
"mmm, beautiful, untamed, place, people" I rattled them off the top of my head, and didn't put much thought into it.

But Craig proceeded to recite, indeed, fascinating poetry, more or less: spoken word with all of the noise and music around us. It was 5pm in the afternoon and Little 5 Points on a Friday was hopping. I stood and listened intently, not thinking to record the lovely poem he created just for me. After a couple of minutes: I should his hand and told him he'd earned his meal and headed for the cafe around the corner. A sandwich and a picture later, he was on his way to the next stop, where-ever that might be.

A Haggard Grace

I noticed on my FaceBook the other day that some folks I know were tagged in an album entitled "St. James Planning Party." The man behind the photos calls himself Tony Webster and St. James is the church being headed by none other than Ted Haggard. There has been a lot of commentary and controversy surrounding Haggard's desire to start another church, and mostly among Christian people: whether or not he has the authority, whether or not it's biblically legal, whether or not his invitation to all is appropriate, etc.

And I am here to say this: What is going on with Ted Haggard is between he and his God. Only time will tell if this is truly his destiny, and honestly, I would never wish disaster or failure on a man who is trying to live out his forgiveness. If he so believes that God is leading him to teach others, to receive others- then by all means that is what he must do. To those of you who say that Haggard's invitation to all people of all walks of life, including those of the gay community- is an abomination to the standard of the Church: who are you to decide that? Do you know what the Church is all about? Do you realize that your stance is dangerously prejudice and against all the Christ taught?

Jesus received everyone. No one is asking you to agree. Nevertheless, why continue to publicly punish Ted for his sins?

Interestingly enough, what I noticed the pictures, was a group of people who were coming together and choosing to be a family. The pictures portrayed touching smiles, and a receptiveness, an openness. These were people that were coming together to not only do life together but figuring out how they could bring life to others. They appeared down to earth, and there were pictures of families with children. More importantly, every one of Haggard's family was attending, available and part of the process. Thank you, Tony, for the peek.

I pray that Ted will find a way to minister to others. For we have all fallen, why not use his experience to reach out? Sometimes your most treacherous of experiences can be the grace another needs. I grew up under Ted's leadership, and if this be a new and reformed man, then I commend him, and his wife and his children for trying something. Only time will tell. God speed.

Once upon a time, a producer and musician called Danger Mouse (Brian Burton) joined forces with another musician called James Mercer, of the Shins. And together, they are the- Broken Bells.

Thursday night, Center Stage hosted their concert. It is their first tour and I have to admit that I was more than impressed, if that is possible. Danger Mouse is an astounding musician and throughout the night, made his way between the organ, a guitar and the drums. Mercer led vocals and guitar...while the rest of the band accented them both quite nicely. In fact, the sound effects from the band were phenomenal and sounded very much like their self-titled LP.

They moved easily from song to song and said very little except to acknowledge their team of musicians and their opening band, Morning Benders. The flow of the live music was thoroughly entertaining.

Their style carries a bit of an electro-rock-pop sound, and it's obvious that Burton's talent is showcased in every song, even down to the background scenes on the screen behind them. All in all, the concert was fun and despite the duo taking the stage a little later than first thought, the crowd was packed in and enthused.

First Head-Bangin' Concert

Do you remember your first concert? We all have the memory, I'm sure, and I certainly remember mine fairly well. I was about 9-years-old, I think. My mom took me...to see Degarmo & Key, a Christian "pop-rock" band (or were they trying to be "hard-rock") at the Civic Center in Lima, OH for their Heat it Up tour. We sat within about the first 10 rows of the stage and my mother forgot to bring ear plugs. Of course, as a kid, I didn't care. I loved being up-close and I loved it loud. Ha, I still do. And it's true, stacked away, I still have the cassette tape signed by Dana Key. And hey, what can I say, Eddie Degarmo's "key-tar" was a hit! It seemed like both men disappeared after that album, but in fact, they both became producers for their own music labels in the 90s and recorded solo albums (none of which I ever listened to). Nevertheless, the memory jarred my brain when I saw an article saying that Dana Key had died at the age of 56, may he rest in peace. And for good measure, enjoy...ha ha

A Few Highlights...

Thinking Blank

Sitting at Starbucks, this morning, and everything seems oddly quiet. True there are people talking, music jamming and Navy aircraft overhead, but still, my mind feels still, almost blank. I took the long way around to get here- Scenic Highway, so conveniently named and no, I did not bring the camera. Perhaps I simply did not want to think about what shot to take, or where to stop for one. Enjoying the ride felt more appropriate...and now I am here. The silence I am experiencing seems frustrated: it is as if I am wanting to think of something or perhaps a few things, and yet I also want to feel peace in the silence. Neither exists, right now, alas, I keep writing.

The irony it seems, is that I keep waiting for something, but what I cannot be sure. It seems that this is simply my state of mind, despite the fact that there is no practical noun to be waiting for. Is it possible for the subconscious mind to merge itself into the conscience during moments of absolute awareness? Something to think about...

Big Brother Somewhere

Recently SNL did an astounding job poking fun at the census. Politics mandates that the Government gets to count us. Ironically, too, my friend LaDonna is making a quick $12 an hour to hound people for their information. Joy.


So what really are the numbers all about? And will city planning politicians take action when observing demographic discrepancies? The answer is: who knows?


But LaDonna did bring up an interesting point- at the end of the day, all the information requested is typically public record. And in the age of the internet; truly anyone could find out anything about you, if they really wanted.


It's true that I'm not a fan of the Government being able to hunt me down and invade my life but the concept itself got me thinking. How private is our society, really? From Social Networking to buying a car to filling out taxes, a piece of us is planted somewhere, somehow for someone else to see. And it does show that our “footprint” is implanted and it proves that each person is not truly invisible. Whether or not the reasons hold genuine intentions, the fact remains that each person is wanted for something, seen as someone, and is somewhere.


So the question remains, why not make a statement? Why not tell a story and make an impact?

High Tide

Tonight, we went out on the beach. It was muggy, but cloudy, and there was a perfect breeze sweeping across my face. I approached the water, half expecting there to be traces of oil or goop washing up to the shore, but I saw none and decided to step in. Brian, LaDonna and I walked along the coast line, taking pictures and pointing out the crashing waves. The tide was high, and the clouds threatened rain.

When we walked a little further, Brian pointed out that the sand was two different colors. Where waves has washed up, a created line of shells, broken sand-dollars and seaweed sat along the shore. Everything between the line and the where the water began seemed tinted: a beige-brown color of sorts. On the other side, the sands were white- even the wet sand. He noted that the darkened sand were traces of oil and had heard that it just may be the case. Neither LaDonna, nor I had thought of that, but it seemed to make sense.

After some time, sitting, talking and laughing by the waves, the clouds in the distance got bigger and were moving fast. “That” threat to rain was now on its way. As we packed our things and headed for the car, I couldn't help but be totally captivated by the magnificent sky. It was as if the clouds were each forming their own identity. Each cloud was thick, dark and rolling, moving: it almost looked fake, as if HDR or 3g effects had been applied for the scene. It was a conducted performance that demanded an audience. And it was fascinating. I pulled out the video camera in hopes to catch some of the flashes of lighting but instead only got sporadic horizontal flashes on the screen each time a bolt in the distance hit. Nevertheless, one could tell that this thundering display would only last a short time as I could see clear skies in another direction. The wind from the coming storm moved the waves faster and more violently. I didn't want to take my eyes off of the power shown of nature in front of me.

But in the end, we made a dash for the car and took off, but not without a little comic relief. As I was leaving, I noticed that the local television station had brought their truck and were ready for action when destruction came. Those silly storm chasers. A small adventure to be sure.