Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Catalyst for Transcending

Without essential items, nothing can or could be. A thought cannot become reality, silica cannot become a window, and a seed cannot flourish into a plant. This seed, under the correct conditions, has the ability to remain in a suspended state for years, possibly decades if it’s not allowed to reap the benefits of the earth and its abundance of variant life sustaining matters. Without the presence of these essential items the seed remains nothing but a seed. It cannot grow; it has not the possibility of harvesting sunlight for the creation of its food. It shall never be forced to fight through hard times of the dry season’s drought. It has no chance, no opportunity to say “goodbye” to something that was not there to begin with.

One seed may germinate into something beautiful but it takes a handful of seeds to create a flowing cohesive junction. A singular tree has the ability to bring positive attention to home’s curb appeal, but it takes an entire forest to ensure the wealth of this planet. Something as simple as a seed has the potential, if given the chance, to give and create wealth in such harmony; priceless for the outcomes may be never ending.

This image of a lonely seed begins to bloom into a whole new picture. An image, a story, a piece of art that takes on a new meaning before the viewer’s eyes as if shown in a different spectrum of light, yet remains physically unaltered. It starts with a shift in direction, a change in point of view. Unearthed within its hues, its dynamic, its whole composition is a story, a journey of what can, of what could, of what has not yet come to pass. With time a whole, finished picture may come into view.

Monday, February 22, 2010

The Sound of Someone Walking

“You should not say never for it takes away the characteristics of the house at hand,” said the Hatter to the Hare as the matter of the issue was overlooked.


I take music in pill form and swallow it dry. It leaves the most peculiar taste as it rolls down my throat. After the music hits me I drown the outside noises with a perspiring glass of emotional writing. It soothes the scratching the pill left and calms the war mongering cells within. Yet this combination leads to fly bys in radio controlled balloons. So ill listen to your brother Jake as I fall to my pillow remembering the days that I have been told came to pass. “Are you well?” She asked as she gazed into his catatonic eyes with a smirk on her face and a forced tear running down her nose. “...I’m fine...,” he claimed as he closed his eyes, “...I’m just anticipating the sight of you leaving,” and fell asleep.


“Fear not my dear for I am fine, and safe at that. I sit among a table of angles,” he said while the small child at his feet began to weep.