Wednesday, May 04, 2016
"But in the end you become a hostage to who you are, to what you want, what fascinates you, what breaks you down, what holds you under; the sense you feel compelled to build, the truth you try so helplessly to construct, the who you ultimately and helplessly are."
- Brad Zellar
Posted by bulletholes at 1:45 PM
Tuesday, May 03, 2016
I cooked some ribs on my smoker this weekend. Two women walking dogs came by. Both with big breasts, nipples poking through the terry cloth tops. Like they were smuggling bubble gum. They talked with me for a long time, and I gave them some ribs, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't stop looking at those tits.
Do you think they noticed I was gawking?
They are probably used to it.
What do you think was the cause of this effect?
Or the BBQ?
I don't know.
Shoot, they're probably lesbians anyway.
So whats the difference?
Posted by bulletholes at 8:38 AM
Friday, April 29, 2016
I started to tell all about Mark, how he had started taking pics with his phone camera a few years back, then he bought a stick to steady the camera, and started taking videos of music shows, until one day some pro photographer (they say it was Larry Dillon) said "Hey man, I got a bunch of old gear you might come dig through, and see if we cant get you set up proper", and Mark and Larry got him set up proper, and Mark would go to all the music shows he could, taking pictures of the acts, and more pictures of the folks enjoying the show, (he used to want to film me dancin', but I always told him "If you want to SEE the show, you are going to have to COME to the show"), and as I was to find out the last time I saw Mark, the photographers like to take pics of each other taking pics, like this one of his friend Robert he took at Reds just last Saturday.
Everybody knows while Mark was in the hospital someone came and ripped off all his gear, and a benefit was held by Mark's friends. an undetermined amount of money was raised, enough to replace all his stuff, and I have to think the total was quite substantial.
But I didnt want to turn this into a long post. Mark went from being a hobbyist to a professional photographer in about two years, and along the way everybody loved him, He was as much a part of the scene as the musicians themselves. He was famous, though he didnt want to be, and his great humility always shone through, and now that I've put it down I guess I really regret not letting Mark film me dancin', just one time.
Marks camera, taken by Robert Keith, 4/23/2016 at Reds. Mark passed 4/27/2016.
Posted by bulletholes at 12:35 PM
Thursday, April 28, 2016
In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: "How you been?"
He grins and looks at me.
"I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees."
- Wendell Berry
Posted by bulletholes at 1:03 PM
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
"In the course of the years a close friendship will always reveal the shadow in the other as much
as ourselves, to remain friends we must know the other and their difficulties and even their sins
and encourage the best in them, not through critique but through addressing the better part of
them, the leading creative edge of their incarnation, thus subtly discouraging what makes them
smaller, less generous, less of themselves. Through the eyes of a real friendship an individual is
larger than their everyday actions, and through the eyes of another we receive a greater sense of
a self we can aspire to, the one in whom they have most faith. Friendship is a moving frontier of
understanding, not only of self and other but of a possible and as yet unlived future."
"..., the ultimate touchstone of friendship is not improvement, neither of the other nor of the self, the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another, to have walked with them and to have believed in them, and sometimes just to have accompanied them for however brief a span, on a journey impossible to accomplish alone."
More, click here.
Posted by bulletholes at 1:35 PM
Monday, April 25, 2016
The trading of joy comes naturally because it is of the nature of joy to proclaim and share itself. Joy cannot contain itself, as we say. It overflows.
And so it should properly be with pain as well. We are never more alive to life than when it hurts—never more aware both of our own powerlessness to save ourselves and of at least the possibility of a power beyond ourselves to save us and heal us if we can only open ourselves to it. We are never more aware of our need for each other, never more in reach of each other if we can only bring ourselves to reach out and let ourselves be reached….
We are never more in touch with life than when life is painful, never more in touch with hope than we are then, if only the hope of another human presence to be with us and for us.
Being a good steward of your pain involves all those things, I think. It involves being alive to your life. It involves taking the risk of being open, of reaching out, of keeping in touch with the pain as well as the joy of what happens because at no time more than at a painful time do we live out of the depths of who we are instead of out of the shallows.
-The Clown in the Belfry
Posted by bulletholes at 8:55 AM
Friday, April 22, 2016
So I had this dream last night.
End of dream.
"...the heart breaks, and breaks, and lives by breaking..."
Stanley Kunitz, "The Testing Tree"
Posted by bulletholes at 8:58 AM
Thursday, April 21, 2016
"I always enjoy the parts about Lisa in Junior High because that is what I remember best. But, yeah, I remember that your bedroom was dark and scary with lots of strange posters depicting music groups like Black Sabbath. Lisa & I scooted on past your door very quickly when heading to her room."
Suzi, you stopped by my room one day...I had The Who "Quadraphenia " going....Daltry sings...
Can make it rain
The way the beach is kissed by the sea
Can make it rain
Like the sweat of lovers
Laying in the fields.
Love, Reign o'er me
Love, Reign o'er me, rain on me
Can bring the rain
That makes you yearn to the sky
Can bring the rain
That falls like tears from on high
Love Reign O'er me
On the dry and dusty road
The nights we spend apart alone
I need to get back home to cool cool rain
I can't sleep and I lay and I think
The night is hot and black as ink
Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain "
Suzi, Daltry was singing his heart out, singing from his toes that day.
And the voilins wept and Moon carressed his drums and Suzi, you got this glazed look in your eyes
And Suzi, you sat down crosslegged on the floor and sagged against the wall and mouthed the words to me "That song is beautiful Steve" and it was very intense.
And Suzi I got to tell you I just nearly kissed you that day, but you were even scarier to me than my room was to you.
And you never came back again.
No, you never came back again.
Posted by bulletholes at 11:44 AM
I've never had a really nice grill and smoker before. Always just the little 50 dollar rigs that dad's use to cook burgers twice a year. But I went ahead and got a pro model. its bigger than it looks. When I got it to my apartment I discovered that it would not fit through the sliding glass door to go safely and secure on my back porch.
So I bought a chain, and a motion detector, and dared anyone to try to steal it from under the stairwell.
Well, as things go it didnt take long for it to attract the attention of Apartment Management. They said it broke city code by "impeding egress".
The Grill Nazi's at my apartments have made me move my grill from sitting harmlessly beneath the stair to my back porch. I didn't even whimper, I just complied by pulling out the tools, removing the sliding glass door (it would not fit through otherwise) and put the grill on the back porch.
I hold no resentment towards the Grill Nazi's, and wont burn the complex down in retaliation. Not on purpose anyway.
Posted by bulletholes at 7:50 AM
Monday, April 18, 2016
But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We'd have eaten ourselves alive long ago.
So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, "The good outnumber you, and we always will."
Posted by bulletholes at 1:46 PM
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Sleep comes its little while. Then I wake
in the valley of midnight or three a.m.
to the first fragrances of spring
which is coming, all by itself, no matter what.
My heart says, what you thought you have you do not have.
My body says, will this pounding ever stop?
My heart says: there, there, be a good student.
My body says: let me up and out I want to fondle those soft white flowers, open in the night.
An Old Story by Mary Oliver, from "A Thousand Mornings"
Posted by bulletholes at 2:02 PM