AMERICAN ARCHITYPES (REVISED)

the successes



the man



the gypsies

MY ENTRYWAY

Hans & Jason, stoned.

THE REST OF THE EDITORIAL... "THEM GLASSES IS PERSCRIPTION, FOO!!"

and... me.




this work was a comment on the the relationship between the observed and the observer. some people, or some photographers i should say, are incapable of establishing any discernable connection, let alone relationship, with their subjects... I, on the otherhand, am incapable of making an image of my subject without at least attempting to discover who they are.... this work is just a comment on my ability to control nearly every aspect of my subject (not in any totalitarian sort of way) but by picturing my subject in my glasses, my control extends to even the plane thru which my subject views me... in a way, they're seeing me through my eyes... as I would like to be seen...

but if you wanna stay 2 dimensional, its a fashion editorial about the inexplicably ever-classic ray ban wayfarer's and their comeback as a staple in all things stylish for the past 3-4 years. now that's profound.

OBJECTIVE SUBJECTIVE

AT THE SHOP

Theeese guys. Monday. September, Den Co.

MOST RECENT EDITORIAL: SEEING THROUGH MY FRAMES... OR JUST GOOD LOOKING PEOPLE IN MY GLASSES... EITHER WAY...

I see all of you when i look through my lens... what do you see when you look at me?

I FOUND THIS YESTERDAY AT THE BOYS' HOUSE

This is the best four track album I've heard in a while. mmmm

OH, MARVIN

1st & Delaware, Den CO. August

FINDINGS

I have just started to read a new book. I am in the midst of reading a few, but this one seems to have what I need. You may be familiar with the author Chuck Klosterman... well I am reading what he refers to as his 'Low Culture Manifesto'- Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs... a book which I have had sitting on my shelf for a little over four years and look at quite often. It wasn't until this morning that I realized that, though I was not entirely informed of its content, I knew I would HAVE to find something personally relevant within those pages. I guess my last-minute grabbing of the book was simply motivated by the assumption, or hope rather, that whatever moral, social, or psychological deficit I find myself in, the ramblings of a hypercritical cynic, especially on the topic of contemporary American culture, will ALWAYS be comforting.

Anyway, I just wanted to include a quote found on page 14...

"It's been my experience that most extroverted people think they're introverts, and many introverted people make a similarly wrong-headed juxtaposition about being extroverts. Maybe that's why extroverts won't shut up (because they always fear they're not talking enough) while introverts just sit on the the couch and do nothing (because they assume everybody is waiting for them to be quiet). People just have no clue about their genuine nature. I have countless friends who describe themselves as "cynical," and they're all wrong. True cynics would never classify themselves as such, because it would mean that they know their view of the world is unjustly negative; despite their best efforts at being grumpy, a self-described cynic is secretly optimistic about normal human nature. Individuals who are truly cynical will always insist they're pragmatic. The same goes for anyone who claims to be "creative." If you define your personality as creative, it only means you understand what is perceived to be creative by the world at large, so you're really just following a rote creative template. That's the opposite of creativity. Everybody is wrong about everything, just about all the time."

....not bad, Chuck. Not bad at all....

$100 TO THE PERSON WHO CAN GUESS WHERE THIS IS

Jade in the moonlight... Den co

SLANTING BREWS TO PASS THE TIME

WE ARE FRIENDS, AREN'T WE?

We have come a long way, I think....

I'M FINDING IT HARD TO BREATHE

With each new day, I progress, despite the feeling of being in a momentary regressive state.
It hasn't been easy. It has been rather hard, but enough time has passed that the plagues of my past are all but a distant glimmering light left on a fading dark shore I departed from a long time ago. I think of them that way because they are my existential anomalies; they are life-giving tragedies and they are responsible for me; for who I am. What are we but the products of our decisions? I can't say I could have saved myself from the places I went and the people I met there. I can't say I wanted to or that I wished I had. I'm not going back there, but I still awake disoriented at times, struggling to shake myself back into now; finding it difficult to exist presently, but only in a fleeting moment. By nature, I never take the easy way out. In my youth, that route was pleasingly deviant, but now I understand my inability to travel straight from A to B as a means to yield a more compelling result...



I write for no other reason than to please myself; to remind me that there is purpose behind the seemingly nonsensical stream of thought that runs at a continuously increasing pace through my mind. My stated ramblings are not provoked, they just surface as air seeking to exit liquid. My words are for you, whoever you are. For you to take as you will; not to appropriate, but to appreciate--to observe from your own vantage point. I relish the thought that the meaning behind these notions I write are dependent upon you, my audience. In knowing that, I understand that I am saying things to you that I can't ever know. The meaning you draw is your own as you relate my words consciously and unconsciously to yourself and your life... and I hope it makes you a better person. This whole bit might just be me defining my love for writing. It is my favourite medium. Nothing has ever felt more my own than my words. And yet, I will give them all away, just as the breath that flows through my body exits me, as plainly as it came, leaving only to stimulate someone else-- existing only to cultivate life.

...

HERE'S TUESDAY

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WITHOUT HOMIES

I STARTED READING AGAIN

...not that i ever stopped, i mean, I read all the time... street signs, parking tickets, people's facial expressions when i talk to them, menu's...

I'D LIKE TO FIND MYSELF HERE AGAIN

This should make for a more coherent piece of mind...

There was a time when ambiguity was a way of life; when solid connections with other people weren't necessary, or even possible, for that matter. Looking back, it seemed the only mortar between us was the stuff of an expensive, apathetic adolesence that we either allowed to evolve into love and need for one another, or didn't.

I moved past that years ago, and the places in between there and now. I think the first time that realization surfaced was here... in san diego, with the girl I have known for 16 years of my life, my oldest friend, with whom i have more in common than I could understand in any observable thought. I love her. Maybe we can find the time to get away for a while again, to see a different side of things, to turn heads in a someone else's scene, or just to wake up in the same room with the same thought on our minds..... waffles.

PPLN, NKKA

Travis, you're great. Just great.

BIKE BOYZ

i love you, guys.


i might be the only homie who hasn't made love to the pavement in the last 8 days.