Between the billion shots of the sky, sunsets and fewer sunrise, all can be encapsulated in a few words - “you had to be there.” Until our photo reproduction can fill the void of infinite space (the visible universe is finite, I know) it will never suffice. It’ll get better, but until then we will still adore the photographs that capture the color, the clarity and the composure (mine sorely lack, taken with a phone from a moving vehicle, but you get the idea). I’ll still be taking and viewing these photos, but it won’t be the same as that’s what closing our eyes are for, to imagine yourself there. Remember the last sunset you truly watched, who you were with, alone and contemplating or together and contemplating. That is, until the stars come out.

writers block (or is it writer’s block?). Some say it exists, some say it doesn’t, but when I’m trying to finish co writing a novel, rewrite my most recent, start something for nanowrimo (won’t happen), write sweet things to my sweetie, tumble and finish my application, somewhere in between, my mind sort of fizzles, and I can’t think anymore. I need to let my mind rest for a moment. Sometimes I can get on a writing binge and pound out pages, other times I’ll go weeks with nothing to show. Granted, even when I release the words from within, maybe five percent is good enough to be edited, the rest needs to be rewritten. Going by that percentage, my math is not so good any more, how many rewrites do I need to do? It doesn’t matter, it’s not exact. I’ll write this only one time, and I’ll be lucky to read it through more than once for errors.

I need to binge on writing again. It’s been too long.

On a long phone call, doodling away, i like to draw a single line, never touching itself, round and round, from the end point back into the beginning. If it’s a really long call, I fill it in. If it’s too long, I take a picture and post about my doodling ways.

Fun facts about my doodling history:

- I once doodled an entire day. I only doodled Pokemon. I was eleven.

- I doodled at a restaurant in crayons, the doodle was still up on the wall when I came back a couple months later. I was in high school.

- I used to doodle entire battle scenes, in 2D, with men digging tunnels, launching bombs, shooting guns, building ramparts and castles, driving cars off cliffs. (This doodling was done in real time with SOUND EFFECTS)

- I’ve saved some doodles (I’m a terrible artist). One is in my glove department.

- I doodle on paint/illustrator/photoshop etc. when I don’t have pen and paper. These are my least favorite doodles.

- I doodled a door, and doodled the edges so much you could open the door, and behind the door doodle, there was a doodle dude.

She love’s lights, and that’s all I notice. They are hanging from the ceiling, at a bar, with shots of vodka to wash in the luminance. There are lights hanging over out side, lamps, and farther up, windows of expensive condos, and farther up, airplanes, then satellites, and then farther, in every direction, there are stars. In the daytime, it’s sunflowers. I never knew there were so many in the world, so many in my neighborhood, just around the corner. I always think to stop and take a picture, but I don’t. I drive past, or walk past. I think of her when I see her, and most surely when I don’t. I see her, and think of her, and feel her in my being, connected to me, when there are so many other distractions around. I forget about all of that, and find myself just staring into her eyes, into who she is, who I am with her, and who I have become. The lights are beautiful, without a doubt. She is beautiful, without a doubt. But when I stare up at the sky, yes it is beautiful, but then something deeper settles, a sense of place, of meaning, of how little we are, but how significant this moment is, and that is what I see, when I see those lights, illuminated behind the mahogany iris, within her.

Sometimes you have to just stop your car, and take a photo. That’s what this is. The sky, the trees, the colors, the air - crisp and inviting. I seem to like everything crispy, my bacon, my air„ my toast, the sound of stepping on frosty grass in the morning. I’d say that’s a crisp(y) sound. The days are darkening, winter is coming (har har), but day light savings is around the corner, so there’s that.*

*This post was quite disjointed. I just needed an excuse to post the photo. Later.


Cheap pizza. Salad. Cheap Wine. Good TV.

I don’t know if that’s a step up from:

Cheap pizza. Doritos.** Cheap beer. Video Games.

Probably not. But both have their place. Maybe it’s the health consciousness (not really), maybe it’s growing up (pretty much). Maybe, as far as lazy Friday nights with the cousin go, (he’s the health conscious one) - (I’m the, let’s eat whatever one), it’s time to turn back the clock as we will in a few weeks. I’m ready for all night gaming sessions. Bring my brother over, bring a friend. I want to play Goldeneye (complex and facility) and Perfect Dark(no slapping and laptop guns), Timesplittersv(2v2 capture the flag) and Mario Kart(yes I’m yoshi), Smash Brothers Melee (yes I’m Link) and Brawl. I want cheetos, and rolling rock. I want to stay up until 3 am taking turns between chips and dip and cherry coke. Part of me wants that, LAN Starcraft (BGH!) and Counterstrike (Italy and Dust2), a nostalgic trip into late teen early twenty something.

The box wine can stay, I guess, but it’s pretty terrible with cool ranch doritos, pepperoni pizza dipped in bacon ranch, and a wine glass is the last thing I want to grab when I press pause.

*My SNES needs a thorough dusting.

**Please wash your hands before grabbing the controller.

Just when I started this up, I went away for a short while.

When expectations are turned around so quickly, so fervently, I wonder what is to be like this all the time. Can the unexpected be the expected? Will it lose its flavor?

I arrived home, tired after a long week. I had picked up a bottle of wine, a baguette and some good salami for a date transmuted through thousands of miles. That’s not to say I wasn’t excited. I was. It’s not just breaking up the ordinary, because the ordinary I so dearly love, but the extraordinary is something we need once in a while. I didn’t realize exactly what that was.

Then I read her words, so carefully chosen. She had a way with words that left me shaking. I was literally moved. She has moved me prior, and moved me since, but those words right there shook me, in a good way. Each day and moment I fell in love with her more, and so much more after I read those words.

And then I called her. She couldn’t talk. Our (video)date was moments away. For some reason, I decided to clean my room up a bit, and take a fast shower. I had come to learn with her, that nothing was unthinkable. The first time we flew together, we both jumped out of the plane. We still have yet to land in a plane together.

Something was up. It didn’t seem possible, but maybe, just maybe, she was going to surprise me and be at my door. I showered and was still fawning after the words she wrote and the possibility of her being at the door.

Then, I heard a knock.

Since this blog is more reflective, somewhere between a blurb and a daily log, hence, I’m writing, what they call a lurb. I intend to be a good lurber, updating whoever, whatever I am at that moment. It could be stories that happened in my life, or just made up stories. You will never know (it’ll be obvious).

Who I am and where I am going OR I am who and where am I going?

-Mid twenty something (if I were more famous I’d be dreading my next birthday)

-Male (warm blooded(?))

-College Graduate (debt in progress)

-Engaged (soon to be married! Most posts will probably, retro or futuro active, relate to this most amazing person I’ve ever, and will ever, meet)

-Working (glad to be! Even when I don’t. I worked hard to get where I am, but I’m still appreciative that I have a job, never entitled)

-Future Education (education is my education)

-Aspiring novelist (1 novella finished, haven’t edited, 1 novel finished, needs a rewrite or two and several edits, (co)working on another novel, about a third way in, unedited)

-Aspiring Poet (only to said fiancee)

-Part Time drummer (I sold my drumset before moving to Korea for a year, I’m an extreme novice at best)

-Full time dreamer (well, I am, but I also wrote this because I liked the alliteration after drummer/dreamer)

-Traveler of all time and space (Currently back and forth to Southern Cal’)

-Reader (currently going through Song of Ice and Fire series, please, no spoilers)

-Rider (my Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4 is on back order, though the matrix will suffice for now)

-Language speaker kind of guy (perpetually learning Italian, dabbled in Korean and Spanish, and always trying to improve my native tongue, and maybe Swedish)

-Chef (current specialty Swedish Meatballs/Pancakes, though I need my sous chef. You know who you are ;)

-Model (not really, but my boss did mention that my hair looks like it’s out of nordstrom catalog. It’s because I woke up around 4 am and had some extreme bedhead)

-Lot’s more things going on in my life, but I’m stopping here because it’s a good start.

I sipped my coffee, checking to see if she was awake. Not yet. I didn’t want to disturb her. She sleeps so soundly, but I couldn’t even hear her. I couldn’t see her either. Her alarm must have not gone off, or, more likely, she hit the ‘snooze’ while somewhere in between dreams. I was a little sad, the second day in a row where I could see her before leaving to work. I finished my coffee, toast with nutella, and brushed my teeth vigorously.

On my drive to work I noticed something peculiar. It was clear out, the sun was shining, and there was a full moon. This was quite rare for a fall day tucked away in the northwest. She was probably already feeling the heat. That’s when I noticed it, the lake. I drove past it everyday, but today, it was different. In the glow of the morning, quite cool as it were, the lake met the sun with a burst of steam, not fog, it shimmered like fire. I had to share this moment. And that’s when she called.

Her timing was always impeccable, and just when I wanted to share this rare sight, she was there, telling me things that seems like all my life, how storied, but also as if in this instant, it was all coming together. And we shared these moments, together, physically or not. Yet our time apart would be short lived, our time together would be life.