New journey.

It doesn't take much to reorient one's sense of reality - the fragility of these threads, the significance of our ties...just a few words change a person's life irrevocably.

A friend's shocking news the catalyst for viewing existence from a more sober perspective, realizing that time truly is precious - you hear those words but it is difficult to grasp their subjective meaning until that moment arrives when everything is suddenly reappraised.

The infinity of childhood just a phase we pass through, like everything else. It makes sense to say we should not get too attached to all of this, though it's hard to imagine how not to, as our bodies react to every nuance we experience.

Who we thought we were can quickly become irrelevant, though we still have to navigate through the practical drudgery of providing for our continued functioning. Life is profound, but we spend time doing our best to ignore that, encouraged by distractions calculated to make us feel otherwise...

Musical Mischievers.

Another Saturday evening with the music meetup gang, here playing "What's So Funny About Peace, Love, & Understanding", on bass with 16 or so acoustic guitars.

Elvis is coming to town in June, actually, with his Imposters.

Dreaming Pilots

or just stick with Dreaming Thomas, which is a little easier to say...perhaps.

Green light.

Green light is good in the evening, especially through leaves.

Busy week, but more for students than for me, as they put finishing touches on their films and assignments.

After the semester's done, and after the breath one takes at that time, comes an odd sort of vacuum, but one that asks to be filled.

And there's a lot to be done.

Words

Mostly this blog is about photographs or images accompanied by words. But words by themselves have their own right to be, too, their own weight in the air.

Spring seeping into the world (this part of it), once more. Brings the feeling of restlessness, wanting to be outside, be in touch with the things out there. But the world is changing, my world is changing, with fading players, players coming back into focus, new players, and possible change in status and stability on the horizon as well - rumblings of this earth. Alternately anxious and ready to just fling myself into the unknown, only wondering if the ship is seaworthy.

The question of what is important keeps popping up, here, there, everywhere, like the little figures in whack-a-mole. What to do with one's life, with each day.

Wish I knew more about the nature of reality. The thought that all that we see is a construct created somehow for our benefit by our brains via the limited conduit of our senses - what is behind the mask we believe in, this physical world - this thought hovers behind everything like a reverse veil. And it does seem that the experience of individuality, of the finite, is probably just an accident or a by-product of something larger, or, more fundamental, or...well, we don't have the means to comprehend it. Some have made some good guesses, maybe.

But we are part of that, that "everything".

Things moving fast, but they don't really need to. What is the benefit to "fast"?

Maybe words don't have weight in the air. They have some weight in our minds. But maybe actions, the way we navigate through objects, people, and change, is where real weight lies(?). We use our thoughts to do that as we encounter things.

Who stops to think about it? People think and feel all the time, but how many of us stop to wonder why we do any of this, or what it's all about? At certain times, of crisis or of insight, but we don't know how, society, to get beyond dogs eating dogs, or killing each other (more, people, rather than dogs), to be able to contemplate what's really happening behind the mask, or the theatre set we live in. Not seeing the forest for the trees.

I do like trees, though.

The leaves are coming back.

Spring the color explosion.

Looking out the window, everything's pink! You feel energy, along with the plants. Spring in your eyes and in your step. And in your nose and lungs, too, if you're unlucky.

And here's a new mango mahogany baby for new musical adventures. Where are you, my fellow pirates?

Wissahickin'

A mistake. Chance to see it differently.

Walking the grounds, with lacrosse players blasting AC/DC on the field during practice. Adolescent freedom.

Crossing the Schuylkill, sakura going full steam pink.

Rittenhouse compound from the 17th century. An odd place, 5 or so semi-inhabited buildings that almost look like a community. Would make a great art center were it just a little further from the speeding, rush-hour frenzy off to its side.

Safe in the schist from the big, bad wolf.

Tree with house attached.

 Span across the gulch.

Walking the forbidden drive in the late afternoon early spring sunlight.

Hill, water, and trees brought me here.

People in a setting that brings out their good aspect. Corridor of calm in the middle of the starkness of rich and poor contrasts, urban and industrial grime and grit, reminder of the respite found amongst trees, earth, and water.

Wood architecture. An invitation to look up.

Sun gently breathing on the wooden fence, slightly later.

Two hours of forward movement at one's own pace.

Wrinkled water.

Next to the flow. Who you lived there.

Music at week's end.

Today we played in front of people. It was fun. It was for a good cause. Thanks to Rahul for setting this up and shredding on lead guitar, and to Marie for rhythm guitar and vocals on "One More Night" (Dylan) and "These Boots Were Made for Walkin'" (Nancy Sinatra).

The rest of the set: Clapton (Let It Grow, Layla, Wonderful Tonight), Sister Golden Hair (America), and "Clouds From My Head" (Himself).

And here we have the night before, with the Mischievers Meetup once again, after a month-long hiatus. Snuck in on bass at the last moment on Marion's new composition, with Norm on lead guitar.

A weekend with music on the plate.  Even had some karaoke in the house on Friday. Unfortunately, no record of that exists(!). More to come, though.

Somehow, tomorrow is Monday.

I wen go Hawai'i in Centah City.

Ehhhh! Took me one week fo' find dis place, yeah, but finally,  yeah. Das da Poi Dog for Ono Grindz, in Philadelphia, one island of Hawai'i on da East Coast.

Das da spirit, gotta spred 'em ovah heah 'cuz, you know, deez guys, dey need 'em bad.

An' on top da menu, have...yeah, das right: da SPAM MUSUBI!!!

Almost wen go have haht attack, I wuz so happy.

An' even get da Hawaiian Sun Guava juice, brah. Das like, bring da islands home to you, even do' you no stay deah, yeah.

An aftah, no get habut, jes come back one uddah time. Save yo' pennies an' try da poke or da kahlua pig!

Hawaiian designs on da floah, like Tutu used-ted to make.

An' one good use of da can of SPAM - fo' hold da chopsticks! Boy, dose guys wen go tink of everyting, an den. Akamai, dat.

Sorry so blurry, bruddahs and titas, but you can check 'em out: you get yo' macaroni salad, yo' kahlua pig, an'...yo' two scoops rice! Wid da poke smilin' atchoo on da leff-hand side of da peetchah.

An den, da SPAM MUSUBI, almost, what can I say...spiritual, yeah, on top da MAHALO. Still nevah yet wen go eat 'em. Jes waiting fo' wen get da munchies again.

An' das right, das da spirit - kokua, da planet gon' tank you.

Aw, wuz so ono and so good, I wen go feel a little homeseeck, aftah, but das arright, bum bay can handle. So good fo' have one little island of Hawai'i in da meedle of all dis mainlan' kine stuffs.

Aloha!

West Chester & Baldwin Book Barn Expedition.

Second week with our Ceruleum guests. They've been to several classes, including Sophomore, Junior, and Senior Workshops. Elliot, with his frank critiques, made a strong impression. Rounding out the week with Professional Practices, Client Project, and 3D Environments.

We went on a drive today to see more rural views of farms, stone houses, and (still) bare trees.West Chester business, here. Kind of an interesting name, though the reality might be, well...reality.

On the menu on one of the food carts at West Chester University "Hawiian Chicken", whatever that may be.

We strolled around the campus for a few minutes in the drizzle. I'd never set foot there before, so it was interesting to see a traditional campus - this one decent.

Nobody knew what the tall tower was - we asked several people. The squatter structure is a water tower, but the taller thing looked like a former industrial chimney converted to use as a cell phone tower, but that's just hazarding a guess.

There was a door at the bottom of the tower - oddly open and leading into the hollow inside.

Baldwin's Book Barn. Glad it's still around. What a great thing - smell of books and the pot-bellied wood stove. 4 floors of used books in an old barn.

Investigating the different sections, accessible via wooden stairs.

The one cat on display today - big, black one. Friendly.

Instructions to heed.

These former produce crates hold books and their original ad illustrations.













Keeping an eye on the clientele.

This sort of thing puts Ikea in perspective.

I was glad to see my charges enjoy their time amongst the books. Knowledge in this format makes an impression that is unique and valuable, still.