Random snippet of dialogue from my past #47

Bishop: "Have you ever wondered if you are bi-polar?"

Paul: "Well, yes... in fact..."

Bishop: "My son is an artistic type - he paints. His doctor diagnosed him as bipolar, and he went on medication for a while. He didn't like it..."

I went to a movie

I took my little girls out to a movie tonight. The storyline was familiar:

Boy meets girl
Boy grows up with girl
Boy daydreams with girl
Boy and girl daydream of a life of adventure
Boy marries girl
Boy grows old with girl
Boy loses girl to old age...
...boy continues on alone.

I cried.

Those damn tears, in needing to be wiped away, brought my physical self and my inner self's attention to a focused point - made me consider my losses. I've been that boy in a wide eyed state of wonderment... meeting a girl whose sense of adventure, whose life and love, seem perfectly tailored to my own. I know the ecstasy of letting my guard down completely, and finding that step into the unknown rewarded with the awe and wonderment of discovering a soul mate. The word 'home' took on new meaning, and new place - at her side.

Boy lost girl.

Boy is pretty philosophical about it now-a-days.

Boy wonders if he'll ever be able to trust enough to just free fall into love again.

Boy hopes so.


Though I don't pine away for her to return, my tears revealed a still open wound. We are all different now.


Boy wonders if being philosophical about it is just a bunch of bullshit.

sidewalk scripture

Jesus is easy to trust. It's his followers that you must be wary of.

grandeur of the sky

The grandeur of the sky demands nothing in return.

ghosts at home

This is the place:
My home town is a peculiar place. Mount Logan to the east, the Wellsvilles to the west... you always know where you are. Winston Churchill once said, "We shape our buildings; thereafter, our buildings shape us". Though our forbearers hardly shaped these majestic peaks, they did choose to become boxed in by them. One has to wonder how the mountains mold the malleable minds of men who live here. The businesses here are Run by people who grew up here, whose parents grew up here whose parents grew up here whose parents grew up here whose parents grew up here whose parents grew up here whose parents...

Heathens, visitors, and boxes:

On a sunday morning, only 2 cafes will serve me breakfast. One is full of lapsed mormons who seem to revel in the fact that they are not at church. This group is so concerned with "the box"... that one with the steeple that they are absent from... they seem to go to a certain effort to make sure people know that they are outside of "the box". The cafe is frequented by another class of non-believers: university professors. They have been imported, and sometimes seem befuddled at the presence of this box and all the fuss it receives.

Gravity of memory:
This town is full of ghosts. As I write this, I remember something about the table I'm sitting at. I once sat in this very space, and sipped iced tea with the love of my life - the girl I gave my whole heart to, only to have it broken. In this same spot, on several occasions, I sat with my laptop working on college papers - at times, painfully unaware of the futility of that pursuit.

Roads of ruin:
There are only so many roads in this town, and they are all veneered with memories. I can't go anywhere without traveling the path I took on my way to propose to my future ex wife. I remember driving to the drive-through with my mom, dad, brother and sister... the unique excitement of a hamburger, french fries, orange soda and a toy, all housed in a cardboard box of joy. I drive on the street I worked on when my grandmother died. I traverse the road I took home the night I lost my job. I drive past the office I entered to have my have our divorce papers notarized.


100 south... I could write volumes about this simple street. This is the street I grew up on. The church of my upbringing is on this street. My highschool is on this street. The studio I was photographically born in - is on this street. The highschool auditorium that hosted so many of my performances, is on this street. I walked this street hand in hand with love... and spent many nights running it when love had left me. This is where I came when my family was torn from me. This street houses the altar at which I sacrificed all I had in the name of God... and here, my cross was crudely constructed...even after paying "the uttermost farthing", I was beaten, broken, and left bleeding my most humble state of desperation. This street also is the place where the stone was put in place - the stone that would one day be moved from the cavernous tomb of my consciousness, letting the light of day in, and my consciousness, out, to live again... I wonder if, IF die... I will haunt this street as a forlorn ghost.

It's no wonder that people die. This tiny town is compacted with memories... which become tales, sad stories of what might have been. It's hard to not feel my age when I'm here. In a place that constantly reminds you of how old you are, it's no surprise that one grows old.

My new home is far from my family. It is also far from the sedimentary layers of sadness that are my home town. It is a place of change, a million people and a million-and-one opportunities. A longing heart, I suppose, is the price I pay to walk streets that are paved with possibility.

grave yard of dreams

Some office buildings are filled with ghosts.
3/4 empty, with tenents who seem to have all but given up on coming to work.
The forest green carpet once was so stately.
You can still feel reverberations of pride that once radiated from the brilliant new start up in suite #311. Echoes of ambition still haunt this space.
The once crystalline light fixtures have developed coffee stains too- the flickering fluorescent tube can barely stay awake.
These empty pastel plaid halls are the grave yards of dreams.

congregations of the wicked

Good morning! This morning at my parent's home, they are, as ususal, playing BYU TV. A program is on, featuring a couple of "professors of church history and doctrine". (I'm certain that these obviously bright people eat prozac like candy just to keep the depression / cognitive dissonance at bay).

They are discussing a passage where the missionaries are told to 'cast the dust from their feet' as a testimony against those who they have taught.

For the uninitiated, this gesture is an outward sign that the missionaries are no longer accountable for the sins of the people they have taught. Apparently the Lord told them that they didn't need to do it RIGHT IN FRONT of the people (turns out, it was highly offensive, and they were getting beat up a lot). God told them they could do it in a more private setting... because omnipotent God, Alpha and Omega, needs them to brush their shoes off, to help him remember that these folks are now on the eternal naughty list...

I digress. let us revisit the 2nd Article of Faith:

2. We believe that men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam's transgression.

Right.

Jesus just loves hyperbole.

filling your body with light

Is it any wonder that our bodies are thrive when we feed them robust proportions of fruits and vegetables?

During my monthly scramble to get ready for gallery stroll, I searched my kitchen for a midnight snack. I stumbled upon a few opportune oranges. As I started peeling the orange, I thought about where it came from. This fruit is the sum of 3 things: Sunlight, water, and soil. Have you ever really thought about how amazing fruits and vegetables are? In a few short months, a plant is able to convert minerals from the soil, water, and energy from the sun, into huge quantities of food. Have you ever thought about how amazing it is that something like an orange tree, produces something from, seemingly, nothing? A tree may have hundreds of pounds of fruit hanging from it at the end of the growing season, and yet- there are not hundreds of pounds worth of soil missing from underneath it. It's really quite astounding. Magical, it seems.

Physicists argue a lot about whether light is a wave or a particle.

Perhaps the orange is proof of the particle.

the drive to create is divine

A friend of mine shared this with me the other day. I love it. Acts of creation, whether they be in an accounting office, a painter's studio, or a 3rd grade art class, are the seeds of godhood.

what of the muse?

What of love
and what of the muse?
Might the muse be a woman
demure
and dangerous
whose soul is the uncharted depths
and heights
of sea and sky - beckoning
with the siren song - irresistible to the adventurer of life and love?
Might the sage
love the Ten Thousand Things
and speak the Language Of The World
communing with The Way
and need
no one?
Might the sun and stars and soil and strangers
be the seduction...
the stuff
of a poet's dreams?

we were once salesmen

I know the things we used to say
about people "like that"
deceived!
proud!
awash in sin
self loathing
unto damnation
And now I am he of who we would speak.
Tell me we are still brothers
I need to know you've changed too.
I cannot bear your pity
of 13 years prior
We used to speak of love
and sing of the cross
the man made famous.
We were once salesmen
of a shrink-wrapped eternity
Bound by the saving of souls
our two year labor of love.
May we now be bound by a truth
even higher?
I'll take no righteous pity
for love IS god.

racial profiling - Jesus style

It's sunday morning, 9:32am. I've dropped the girls off to Mireesa so she can take them to church. My dad turns on the TV to watch "Music and the Spoken Word", the weekly broadcast of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. A TV spot for the church comes on... (they like to do these quick little tv spots promoting different wholesome values...)

The narrator is speaking with a distinct mexican accent:
"when I was young, I once stole something from a store..."

Just curious why the narrator didn't have a thick... oh, dutch accent, perhaps?

This message about racial profiling brought to you by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

:-P

Godspeed, Elder Webb

As I approached 1296 Magnolia St, I assembled the letters and larger envelopes to go into thier mail box. They only had one large envelope... from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Missionary Department. It was addressed to an Elder James Webb. I felt the small spiral bound booklet inside, containing such instructions as what suits to buy, what kind of haircut to get... this envelope is unmistakable.

I was instantly taken back to that June morning in 2005 when I found a similar large white envelope in my mail box. I was called to serve in the Philadelphia Pennsylvania Mission.

Much has transpired in my life since I opened that fateful envelope... things I would never have dared to imagine...

...and even now, at this moment, I am instant messaging with a missionary I served around during my mission.

There is something incredible about dedicating your life to a cause that is bigger than you. I was so happy when I recieved my mission call. I was SO happy when I landed in Philadelphia and met President Wagstaff... it was a wonderful time of my life.

If you've read much of my blog, you probably understand the complicated subtext in which I say this... I loved my mission. I am glad I went. I only have a few regrets about my missionary service. Elder Webb, if you are reading this... (and I'm sure you aren't, but maybe some other preparing missionary will read it some day)...

1. I spent WAY too much time obsessing over my 'worthiness', and thus left little room in my heart to let the love of God in.

2. I spent WAY too much time trying to convince everyone that our church was 'the true church'.

3. If I could re-write one aspect of my mission... I would have relaxed about 1 & 2 and just LOVED the people more. That's what the people in the world need - they need to feel love. They need to believe that they are lovable. And when they feel lovable, ONLY THEN will they be able to love thier own neighbor.

I just wish I would have loved people more.

Elder Webb, I want you to know, even this AP-gone-agnostic, could not stop smiling for the rest of the afternoon, as your mission call sat in your mailbox.

Godspeed, Elder.

hope

Inauguration Day

George Clooney wishes Israel would cut it out with the rocket attacks, allready

Wow, who knew that Khaled Meshall, militant Hamas leader, is actually George Clooney?

the alchemy of light

a tiny silver halide crystal
shown the light of day
for 1/100th of a second
was forever changed
and I was made immortal

ramble on

I encounter hundreds of strangers every day... as it turns out, by the nature of my work, most of the people I meet are those who are sitting around, waiting for something...

...waiting for something to arrive. Waiting for that check for "a million dollars". Waiting for some good news. Waiting for something... anything... to give them a jolt from the mundane, something to make them FEEL.

Concerning the man at 1246 Carousel Drive - there was a certain air of surrender about him.
Sometimes I think I can read a whole person's life in the few tones they utter during the space of "thank you, have a good day".

(horribly presumptuous of me, I know...)

He was a sad man. His face told volumes of doldrum tales...

You know what I'm afraid of?

I'm afraid of becoming like that guy who, one day, wakes up in the last half of his life, surrounded by a bunch of people and stuff that he's accumulated... and thinks...
"my God, I don't really like any of this. How did I get here?"

...and even sadder, realizes... that he's not getting out.

I just want to be free. I want my life and heart to always be unencumbered. I want to always be moving forward, always on the bleeding edge of discovery, always knowing that my greatest moment of brilliance is just around the corner.

If I ever die, I want to be young at heart on that day.

The Dreaded Day of Reckoning

I am the mail man. Today is the day that I cause Mr. Anderson to have a very awkward conversation with Mrs. Anderson over the dinner table...

It is the day that husbands all across town must quickly and convincingly explain to their wives how they ended up on Playboy's mailing list.


"Really, honey, I promise, I have NO IDEA how Playboy got my name and address! That's sooo wierd! Maybe the GOVERNMENT is selling my info to them..."

It's okay, Mr. Anderson. She's getting hers, too.

You would never believe all the shit that she buys online and has delivered to her office, so you won't ever see it...

So happy together...

Last sunday, during my bi-monthly grocery shopping trip, I was contemplating the state of my wood floors. I was seduced by the Swiffer Wet Jet... a quick skeptic of love-at-first-sight, I immediately sent a mass text to many of the women in my life, asking if I should bring this purple beauty home with me.

You, the women in my life, overwhelmingly promised that it would, indeed, change my life. I'm happy to report that after our first encounter the other night...(we did it on the floor), we are a happy couple.

first major publication

Just had to share this... I licensed the image that Mel Bay used for the cover of this book... as the rush song goes, "One little victory"! The book is on shelves now.

The Birth of the Sun

Today is the twenty first of December. Tonight the sun will fall into it's deepest abyss in the eastern sky, giving us the longest night of the year. An astrological death of day.

Tomorrow morning, the sun will emerge from it's yearly grave - or it's yearly womb, however you choose to view it - and take on a new crown of crescendo - reborn, destined to grow ever present in our lives for the next 6 months.

As I write this, I eat a lunch that I've created with the help of the sun. The sun gave warmth to soil that coaxed the germination of seeds that gave rise to the grapes of my wine, the tomatoes of my sauce, the wheat that became my pasta. I cooked my lunch using electricity which was generated from a coal fired power plant... coal that once was organic matter that photosynthesizing the sun's rays millions of years ago... The sun warms the atmosphere and oceans, creating systems of storms that have watered the plants that have eventually become electricity, farfalle pasta, tiny flakes of oregano, and chardonnay...

Today I celebrate the birth of the sun. I give thanks that when the sun rises tomorrow,and each day after, it will bring an increasing amount of light.

Whether you celebrate the birth of Sun of the sky, or the Son of Mary, I hope this week brings you much happiness.

Makes you want to be married...

Flight of the Conchords - "Business Time"

A New Chapter

The winter solstice is almost upon us; the rebirth of day is about to commence with the days becoming longer. This is but one of many forces that conspire to indicate the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

Sooo....

New blog title, new photos, new music. (the great photo of me in my studio is by my dear friend Stephanie: www.stephotographyonline.com) While a certain period of my life was mos appropriately titled, "A lover's quarrel with the world", and though I do still feel that strife in my soul, other reverberations feel more fitting these days.

"A memo to a higher office
Open letter to the powers that be
To a god, a king, a head of state
A captain of industry
To the movers and the shakers...
Can't everybody see?

It ought to be second nature
I mean, the places where we live
Let's talk about this sensibly
We're not insensitive
I know progress has no patience
But something's got to give

I know you're different
You know I'm the same
We're both too busy
To be taking the blame
I'd like some changes
But you don't have the time
We can't go on thinking
It's a victimless crime
No one is blameless
But we're all without shame
We fight the fire while we're feeding the flames

Folks have got to make choices
And choices got to have voices
Folks are basically decent
Conventional wisdom would say
But we read about the exceptions
In the papers every day

It ought to be second nature
At least, that's what I feel
Now I lay me down in Dreamland
I know perfect's not for real
I thought we might get closer
But I'm ready to make a deal

Today is different, and tomorrow the same
It's hard to take the world the way that it came
Too many rapids keep us sweeping along
Too many captains keep on steering us wrong
It's hard to take the heat
It's hard to lay blame
To fight the fire while we're feeding the flames"

- Neal Peart

I'm a most fortunate man. I'm grateful for all the good that has come - if you are reading this, chances are, you've been a vessel, bringing stocks of that goodness into my life.

Thank you.

digression #38

goodness
kindness
justice
ritual
confusion
folly

warmth

I walk past the homeless shelter every night on my way home from work. Every winter night there is a long line - probably one or two hundred - people who are waiting for a warm place to sleep for the night. They'll be ejected back out into the elements in 10 or 11 hours, but for now, they might escape frostbite.

It never gets any easier to see so many people wanting for something so basic -

- a warm dry place to become unconscious for 8 hours -

something you and I probably take for granted.

Salt Lake City is one hell of a place to be stuck outside in the winter.

I wonder why they are there, and why I'm here. I know enough about homelessness to know that they aren't any different from me.

...just one roll of the dice different, I suppose.

I think about all the stupid decisions I've made, I think about all the strange turns of events my life has taken during the past few years...

I'm no different than they. I wonder why - but then I catch myself wandering into judgement.

Stop.

I look up into the dark sky, I contemplate the wonder of being a passenger on this small blue marble spaceship that slowly meanders through the big, beautiful cosmos -

- I look up, I try to peer through the atmosphere into infinity -

- and I wonder if there is a gracious God out there who somehow has helped me along my way.

I thank that God, (supposing one is out there somewhere), for the warm safe apartment I'm about to enter for the night. I become - for lack of a better term - embarrassed, by how beautiful and overly sufficient my accomodations are, as I look over my shoulder at the house of those who have nothing.

In that same instant of reverberating with gratitude, somehow - my thanks turn to a strange concoction of anger, disappointment, speculation, and concern. I cannot help but notice that he has not helped my fellow travelers as he has helped me.

After all, I'm no different than they.

Why me?
Why not them?

infallibility of grandeur

I took my little girls to see the lights at Temple Square.

I was warmed by the glowing towers of tradition around me.

Grandeur is so seductive.

The facts, dates, times, places in a pivotal history were a stiff, unrelenting wind that chilled me to the core.

In the midst of happy christians and hopeful children, I mourned.

Cold Play hit "Viva La Vida" a cheap rip-off

I'll admit, I'm a tad biased. I think Coldplay is okay, they've written some decent pop radio fodder....
...but they are up against a FAR more talented artist, a LEGEND in the music business. One of the guitar world's great gods, Joe Satriani, is suing Coldplay.

Satriani "claims Coldplay copied "substantial, original portions" of his 2004 song, "If I Could Fly." Read the news article here.

Listen and judge for yourself:




and for a more in depth analysis of the music theory, check this out:

Obama to protect America's Shitty Jobs

Obama Promises To Stop America's Shitty Jobs From Going Overseas

coal for christmas

This afternoon Makinley and I were harassing Makelle, telling her that she would be getting coal for christmas. Makelle quickly rose to her own defense:

"I haven't been a bully - I just do pay-backs.

Really Dad, I've been doing good stuff."

That's my girl! :-)

Happy Thanksgiving

The Temptation of a Mail Man

They're pretty good, huh?

Rush playing... their own song on Rock Band II

to keep or not to keep

One summer evening, I was laying in my bed, half asleep, when I heard raging, accumulating, and approaching sirens. I emerged from my apartment to find a towering blaze across the street. The flames reached 4 stories into the air, devouring an under-renovation night club. Power lines were exploding, the smoky night air was slashed in every direction by emergency vehicle lights. The air was thick with pungent smoke that confessed what the flames had just digested... old insulation, aged timber, tar and shingles. Rather than run inside for my good camera, I settled for a crude snapshot on my junky camera phone... then found a comfortable spot in which to soak up the heat and energy of the situation.

The incredulous questioning of my friends as to why I did not fully document the situation spurred me to thinking more about motives.

It has taken a few months, but the question has now taken form:
Why is it, that when we encounter something beautiful, we feel inclined to keep it?

Pictures... cages... wedding rings... all seem like attempts to capture and keep the beautiful things we find along the path of life.

"Taking pictures is savoring live intensely - every hundredth of a second" - Marc Riboud

Photography has given me many gifts, but among them... I see beauty all around me now. I feel a deep resonance and harmony when I see the rich green of treetops contrasted against the joyous blue of a cloudless summer day. Rusty bolts are expressionistic art, co-created by mother nature and man. In the face of the homeless man, I see God.

That being said, it's almost second nature to reach for the camera upon encountering such beauty.

Lately I've started to find that, though the camera was an almost sacred master in teaching us such lessons... there comes a time when it becomes a hindrance.

For instance - the RUSH Snakes & Arrows tour. I snuck a camera into the concert. It was a small point & shoot with a bit of a zoom lens on it... I was determined to capture some great images of the show, even if from the lawn seats. The technical limitations of that little camera were too much for the inherently almost impossible shooting conditions of concerts... but that did not stop me from trying. I experienced far too much of that show through a 2" LCD viewfinder screen. In retrospect, I wish that I had just put the camera away, and basked in the light, sound, and soul stiring energy that is a RUSH show.

In trying to capture the experience, I lost it.

Each moment we are exposed to deserves some kind of preservation.

The capture medium... that is the question:

Soul or film?

Bingo

This is perfect... If I ever get into a relationship again, it would be with a woman possessed of this sentiment:

So Just kiss me and let my hair
mess itself in your fingers
tell me nothing needs to be done
no clocks need winding
There is no beel without a voice
needing to borrow my own
instead, let me steady myself
in the arms
of a man who wont ask me to be
what he needs, but lets me exist
as I am
a blonde flame
a hurricane
wrapped up
in a tiny body
that will come to his arms
like the safest harbor
for mending

- Jewel

pure awesomeness

This is a "painting" on the side of a house formerly inhabited by some crazy white wannabe jamaican dudes. Glad to see that awesomeness is alive and well in the SLC:

I got in the way

I'm on a northbound train. It's 6:50 pm on a November night- darkness has completely settled settled in. I usually enjoy the hypnotic view of the passing landscape, but tonight the darkness outside has turned the smoked glass window into a partial mirror. I try to peer through the reflections - details on the other side of the window are indescribable by virtue of my own reflection. Occasional points of light are recognizable - flood lit buildings, wandering ghosts that are cars, and in a blurry instant, my gaze meets with another similarly curious soul in a window of a passing train. Such is life - peering through darkened glass at the other side... other side of love, other side of mortality- details obscured by our own reflection.

What might I see if I could somehow disappear?

My new conspiracy-theory-theory

Good news, mom! I'm No longer a conspiracy theorist!

The revelation dawned on me at 12:17pm today between 151 and 149 Edith. As I prepared to deliver 149's TV guide, my inner gossip queen was captivated by the top right headline...

I was consumed with a desire to read this nationally published magazine, that I might be in on the secret about George Clooney coming back to ER!

Imagine! Being in on the secret before it actually goes public!
(in my sexiest-phone-sex voice....) Tantalizing!

But seriously folks...

How can there really be a need for clandestine government operations, when the electorate is buying magazines so that they can learn about the "secret reunion plans"?

god in man

I'm not sure if I believe in God. I do know this... I believe in man.

I believe that when every person wakes up in the morning, they do the best they can, with the energy, knowledge, and resources they've got on hand in that moment.

Perhaps...

that striving - IS the higher power.

musing

I miss the spring...
I miss the sweet intoxication of someone else's dreams...

I have nothing else to say :-)

Joy in the journey

For those who are close to me, this may come as a bit of a suprise...
I really loved President Monson's talk on Sunday. I want to share it with you:


Find Joy in the journey - NOW.

You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you've collected a lot of empty yesterdays.

There is no tomorrow to remember if we don't do something today.

Never let a problem to be solved, become more important, than a person to be loved.

One day each of us will run out of tomorrows.

G, D, A, E

Makinley is learning to play the violin! She's joined the orchestra program in her elementary school. I'm a very, very proud daddy. :-)

Tonight when I dropped the girls off at Mireesa's house, I asked Makinley to get her violin out and play for me. It thrilled me to watch her open the case.... remove and rosin the bow... place the instrument under her chin... and produce sound!

"See Dad... This is G.... This is D.... This is A.... and this is E "

This is a day I've dreamt of ever since I conceived of myself as a father.
It's like we entered into a new realm together, and began to converse in the language that has been my godsend. I love the thought of the years to come, discussing a's e's, b-flats, sixteenth notes and fortissimo with Makinley, my pride and joy.

A certain lyric came to mind, as she was preparing her instrument for me tonight...

"What can this strange device be?
When I touch it, it gives forth a sound
It's got wires that vibrate and give music
What can this thing be that I found?

See how it sings like a sad heart
And joyously screams out its pain
Sounds that build high like a mountain
Or notes that fall gently like rain"

- 2112, Neal Peart

11 years later...

Today is the 11th anniversary of my return from the Pennsylvania Philadelphia Mission.
Today the church announced that a temple will be built in Philadelphia.

It's an odd thing. Though I do not agree with the premises of temple worship...

To be honest, I found myself feeling some things that suprised me. I am very, very happy for the people of Philadelphia. I worked hard, I served the best way I knew how to... I loved them the best way I knew how to. I know that temple worship means a lot to them, and to that end... I'm very joyful for their sake. I feel a sense of pride, that perhaps, some of my meager efforts, may have helped the group of believers in Philly achieve a goal that means so much to them.

Despite my ambivalence about the temple... I'm thrilled to hear that the City of Brotherly Love gets to have a sanctuary where the earnest may pray, worship, and find peace.

It is my prayer that the temple in Philadelphia will advance the cause of brotherly love in that great city.

the other side of my coin

I find myself evaluating all the available evidence, and reluctantly concluding that man is nothing but a sophisticated animal, responding systematically and predictably to the contingencies of reinforcement in his environment - with the sad circumstance of being possessed of an intellect that is sufficiently evolved to allow us each to fancy that we, individually, are somehow exempt from behaving in accord with the systems of reward and punishment that surround us.

Though we may speak of higher laws and powers - none is more high, or more powerful, or more universally true than the lowest common denominator of humanity - our susceptibility to reinforcement.

....and thus, I'm left observing my own behaviour, wondering what it is about my environment that is rewarding and punishing me, shaping up the way I behave at this point in my life?

Me.

My good friend Natasha took this picture of me. We were wandering around downtown SLC with our cameras in tow, doing some night photography. You can see more of her images here: http://natasharoosphoto.blogspot.com/

Representation!

Wow... it's fascinating how the universe delivers. The last 7 days have been abundant! Here's the latest... The back story: Last year - spring of 2007, to be exact, I made an attempt at marketing my music photography. In doing so, I submitted my portfolio to a number of agencies. I became very preoccupied with building my BurnLounge business... and then recovering from the subsequent collapse of the business. I virtually forgot about my portfolio submissions. Fast forward to this summer - I begin work on The Weight Of Glory Project. Even in it's beginning stages, I'm feeling a deep sense of calling and satisfaction. I begin feeling pulled toward something I've never really done before... photojournalism. The notion of making part of my living creating images that tell stories - and hopefully of meaningful stories - stirs my spirit. A career as a wedding / portrait photographer is... basically inconsequential, in my mind. But a photojournalist... has power to change the public's perception of things. If you are reading this, chances are, I need not explain any more why this appeals so much to me. On top of all this noble-ish stuff... at the end of the day, my music photography (which is my favorite category), is really, photojournalism.

This evening I'm noodling around on my bass, IM'ing a friend, and basically just trying to forget that in 12 hours I'll be a mail man again... when an email arrived. It seemed foriegn enough that I almost deleted it. Upon closer inspection, it was an acceptance letter from one of the agencies I applied with over a year ago! Somehow, somewhere, they finally got around to my application, and were interested in my music photography! I'm very happy and proud to say that as of tonight, I'm represented by one of the biggest photo agencies in the market - Zuma Press!

my true love

Yes, today is a proud and happy day. I was able to finally pick up my dream bass, the Geddy Lee Signature Edition Fender Jazz Bass. I can't tell you how good it feels to play this instrument... not only is the finish work *fantastic*, but the tone and playability are absolutely brilliant. All these years I have tried to dial in a "geddy tone" on my other basses, but to no avail. The secret is simple, it turns out... Rotosound stainless steel roundwound strings on this beautiful fender '72 reissue... WOW! The neck is so slim and playable. The upper register is so expressive, so tonally satisfying. I could go on all day about the many virtues of this bass, but I think you are all bored now... and I'd rather play it than talk about it. :-)

Memphis to Salt Lake City

"I had to lose it all to finally learn how to be happy"(click on image for a larger version)

bliss

It's sunday afternoon. For once, Salt Lake City has rain clouds flirting with it. I'm still reveling in the afterglow of seeing The Police last night. My server is back up, so I'm catching up on some editing. The soulful sounds of John Mayer's new live album are coursing through my apartment. I've conjured up a batch of my famous red sauce and penne. A glass of chenin blanc from our very own Moab pairs nicely with the sauce, and also takes me on a mental trip back to my Moab trip last summer; a time of great photography, serendipity, and connection to the universe and nature...and therefore myself. I'm working on my latest additions to The Weight Of Glory project. Moments like these are my bliss. Manifesting my own creations. Being inspired by being in the presence of other great artists (Sting, Andy Summers, Stewart Copeland last night... John Mayer tomorrow night). I suppose the only thing that makes moments like this better is to share it with someone who feels the vibe, too.

At The Police concert with Natasha. AMAZING... I'll put up a write up of the show soon.

The Police concert

This is what ramen noodles are made for, my friends... to help fund concert going habits such as mine. :-)

The Police played to a full 'house' at USANA Amphitheater on Saturday night (19 July 2008) . I've grown up listening to The Police. Sting is one of my heros (as a songwriter, and a gentleman). The opportunity to see The Police, incarnate, was truly fantastic. I hesistate to say I was suprised by the show, as I had very few expectations of what a Police concert may be like, but here are a few things that really stood out to me, in no particular order.

• Sting's bass tone was much more 'in your face' than I was expecting. Usually his tone is very subdued, you feel it more than you hear it. Tonight was different. That old Fender P-bass was barking out tones that were reminiscent of Geddy Lee, but with a more organic, 'woody' texture to them. You heard and felt Sting's bass parts in the mix.

• Stuart Copeland is as energetic a drummer as they come. He seemed 20 years younger as he powered through the Police songbook. In particular, his re-work of the percussion in "Wrapped Around Your Finger was really beautiful. Here is a video from another show on the tour: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SPIWLc2tQJ0
• The staging was very spartan. Drums on a riser, bass amps on stage left, guitar stacks at stage right, and that's about it. The light rig felt minimalistic but was extremely effective.
  
• Andy Summers comes is one of the great atmospheric guitarists... he really knows how to fill up a song with sweeping chords. He seems somewhat enigmatic, as he never smiled during the show (that I could see), but it's hard to think that the 15,000 raving fans did not make him happy that night
• "There has to be an invisible sun
  It gives its heat to everyone
  There has to be an invisible sun
  That gives us hope when the whole days done"
  
  The whole night was full of amazing moments, but one of the most potent for me, personally, was their performance of "Invisible Sun". During the song, they had portraits of children displaying on the big screens behind the stage. I don't know who the photographer was, but these portraits were *exquisite... one common thread was that the eyes of each child were striking... it's hard to quantify exactly what had been done, other than that the photographer had a wonderful ability to capture the eyes of his subject in a most penetrating way...it almost felt like you were personally staring each child in the eyes. It was incredibly moving. The video of their performance does not focus much on the images, but you can see a few of them:
  

The show concluded with 2 encores, which included "Every Breath You Take" and "Roxanne". For this once in a lifetime opportunity to see the legendary Police, I say... bring on the ramen!

sea of humanity

So, the other night, I went to see The Roots play at the Gallivan Center. (It's so good of SLC to put on these fantastic free concerts in the summer... I think this is a good place to live).

So anyway, I wiggled my way through the larger-than-anticipated crowd. I could hear the band, but I really wanted to SEE what was happening on stage. Despite the best efforts of every one of my 70 inches of height, I could see nothing but the backs of the heads of those who were greater than 70 inches in stature. "The Roots" show soon became a study of the girl in front of me who obviously hasn't been in to the salon lately to become blonde again. One of the good things about being a guy who doesn't really like beer, is.... most everyone else thinks that they do. The line at the beer tent was hilariously long, and was continually fueled by people in front of me who thought that they needed another brew. Eventually I shimmied my way to a good view. The Gallivan Center lawn is not a huge space, but somehow, a sea of humanity had flowed in, making it seem much more expansive.

Large groups of people tend to put me into a pensive mood. There are so many fascinating dynamics at work that g0vern the behaviour of the individuals that make up the group. The mass of people tends to become a singular organism, being influenced by other things to behave in certain ways. The behavior of the singularly huge crowd then in turn influences the behavior of the individuals... the feedback loop fascinates me. It's life in microcosm. Perhaps the moment when the show ends, and we all turn away to go home.... returning to our "normal" mode of behavior... is like death... a time when we have no choice but to return to our natural state. What is that state, anyway?

As I looked out over the crowd, as I caught the occasional whiff of pot from the stoners in front of me, as I dodged spilling beer, I could not help but wonder... what is the point of life, anyway? What does each individual life mean? If just one of these 10 thousand people were to disappear at this moment, would the group notice, or care? Would it change the group in some fundamental way?

Probably not.

What then, is the value of one life?

What is the value of MY life?

In the midst of a rousing rendition of "Get Busy", I had an epiphany.

If I live my life in a vacuum, and do not affect the lives of others for good... my life would be of no consequence.

I realized how we are all connected to each other. We make each other's lives matter. You make my life matter, just by taking a moment to read my blog. You've just given my life a bit more meaning. The simple things we do for each other every day, create meaning. The major things do to, but I think that small deeds often have a larger aggregate result than a few large heroic deeds. And they are so easy to just dole out as we go along every day.

Okay... now, back to that insane sousaphone solo happening on the stage...

quasi self portrait, 22 June 2008

photo by Lindi Mclaughlin, editing by Paul Duane

The Invitation

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

The World is Just Awesome

I love this...

Natasha - May 2008

click here to see more images

Learning to pee

This is from work today.

hahaha... kidding.

Hey Mom, how old was I when we made this?

PUBLIC NOTICE - JUNE 5th BANK HOLIDAY

More info at www.ThisJune5th.com

Long awaited beginning

This is the first piece of many, in a project I've been talking and dreaming about for the last 3 years. I'll be photographing and interviewing various members who exist on the periphery of society. They will be collected and made into a book. Stay tuned for more updates on this project.



(click image to see larger, legible version)

You are Beautiful and Powerful

A clip from the movie Zeitgeist: (see the whole movie online, free: www.zeitgeistmovie.com)

Sufficient For Tonight

Unfamiliarity breeds excitement
spawns daring
first date
in 17 months
she's not dream girl,
and he'll do for now.
Blaring music
a safety net for unsteady words
she slides in close
he counts hatching eggs
She leans in
laughs at everything
it's been 10 years
she makes him feel like Don Juan
flips her hair
feet collide
hands fumble
his mind races
her heart plots
when?
when?
when?
A dam bursts at the base of his brain
he takes her hand
exiting the club
onward to a victory
that will be sufficient for tonight.

The Working Man's Lament

I wear this blue collar
a badge of honour or a crown of thorns
aching muscles
remind
of who I am
what I've become
and what I might have been
had I not done...

Of what use is toil of heart?
O'er hindsight e'er so clear
As days greet us
do we not all judge what is best?

Though I may mull
and reconcile
My blue collar crown of thorns
humiliates
emboldens
separates

- Paul Jensen, 8 April 2008

History Lessons

Not for the faint of heart or virgin of ears...

A historical portrait of George Washington:




The story of Sodom and Gomorrah like you've never heard it before:

grateful

I'm thinking about changing the name of my blog. That statement has most certainly been true of me at phases in my life, some of then not distant.

Today, I just want to thank the world.
I am grateful for the wonderful lunch I was able to make for myself today... cheap pasta salad spruced up with olives and marinated tuna, accompanied by a positively cheerful pinot grigio. Thank you for the sun and water that made the grapes grow for this wine, the olives, the wheat, the tomatoes. Mouthwatering strawberries, bursting with ripe flavor, finished off my lunch. Somehow, I'm fortunate enough to enjoy a batch of strawberries, in the early spring, for fraction of what I make per hour at my job. What a wonderful thing!

I put new Rotosound strings on my bass today. I have not played a fresh set of Rotosounds for... years! Honestly, it's probably been 9 years. Luckily, it does not feel that way; my fingers feel at home, running up and down the distinctly staunch surface of these distinctive strings. My ears are delighted as my bass rings out with sounds echoing the tonal pedigree of bass gods such as Jaco Pastorius, Jack Bruce, Chris Squire, and Geddy Lee. Man, it feels good to make those sounds again.

I'm grateful for good music. As we travel around the universe on this spacecraft called earth, wandering, sometimes it seems, aimlessly- it is wonderfully comforting to discover through the universal language of music, that there are fellow travellers here that experience life the same way I do. Rush, Sound Tribe Sector 9, Seal, Porcupine Tree... these are some of my fellow travellers who feel kindred in spirit.

I'm grateful that the universe has conspired for my good. I live in a wonderful place, wonderfully positioned to work on some of my loftiest goals.

Woe is us if it gets into the wrong hands

In Memory of Jolene Heaps

I recieved some very sad news last night. The mother of one of my best, and lifelong friends, Jared, passed away. The Heaps home was a second home to me all through my growing up. My mom and Jolene used to take Jared and I to the park together to play when we were babies. That's how far back we go. All those times spent at his home, eating Jolene's amazing home cooking, seem so recent. And yet, her mortal journey has concluded. That was fast. And so it will be for each of us. I'm lost in thought today contemplating how I want what may be, the last half of my life, to be. And Jared, Jeff, Chris, or anyone else named Heaps... if you are reading this, my heart goes out to you guys. I know how much you treasured her.

* * * * * * * * * *



Jolene Miller Heaps
LOGAN, Utah - Jolene Miller Heaps returned to her Heavenly Father after her courageous battle with cancer. She passed away on Feb. 14, 2008, at her home in Logan. Jolene met her sweetheart, Lynn R Heaps, at the old Logana Pool, and they spent 46 wonderful years together. They lived in Cache Valley their whole lives and have lived in the same home for the last 37 years. She was the best person anyone knew. Everyone she came in contact with she loved, and they loved her. She was the best example of Christ-like love any of us knew. She spent her days serving her family and friends, as well as serving in many capacities in the LDS Church. For many years, she worked at the Logan Temple as a baker, where her famous cinnamon rolls were a big hit. Jolene loved her family. She centered her life around them, and they adored her. She loved to get together with her family and would do so as often as possible. They would gather, reminisce and laugh at the life they had shared.
She missed her mother, who passed in 2000, very much and looked forward to seeing her again someday. We are sure they are having a very happy reunion now. She is survived by her husband, Lynn R Heaps; her four children, JaLynn Covert, Hyrum, JanaLee Johnson, Providence, Jeffrey Lynn(Caron) Heaps, Smithfield, and Jared Ray(Marissa) Heaps, Nibley; as well as by nine grandchildren and one great-granddaughter; siblings Dona Rae Christoffersen, Logan, Karen(Dennis) Taggart, Salt Lake City, and Scott(Cherilyn) Miller, Smithfield. She was preceded in death by her mother, Dona Miller, and her father, Ray Miller. Mother, we miss you. We promise to have "Love at home" and look forward to being a family together forever.
Funeral Services will be held at 11 a.m. Tuesday, Feb. 19, at the Logan Stake Center, 940 Three Point Ave. Friends may call from 6 to 8 p.m. on Monday at the Allen-Hall Mortuary, 34 E. Center Street in Logan, and from 9:30 to 10:30 a.m. prior to services on Tuesday at the church. Interment will be at the Logan City Cemetery. Condolences may be sent to the family at www.allenmortuaries.net
The family of Jolene would like to extend their thanks and appreciation to Dr. Ali Ben- Jacob and his wonderful staff and everyone who has offered their condolences and support in this difficult time.

Yes, I'm a Rush geek.

Killswitch Engage Concert photos; 13 Dec 07

See the entire gallery - click here

crappy weather, skidding cars, life in general.

A few nights ago, I was on my way to Saltair to photograph a concert. I-80 was extremely slick with fresh snow and old ice. Due to the large amount of road gunk that had been splashed onto my windshield by a passer-by, I did not see my exit until the very last second. I tried to slow down so that I could exit safely, but my car immediately started to skid and turn sideways on the highway. Somehow, I regained control, though I missed my exit.

The next day, I find myself in a defensive driving course as a part of some job training. Appropriately enough, we were discussing driving in inclement weather, specifically, how to recover from a skid.

There are many schools of thought. Some of them revolve around counter steering. Some take into account whether you are in a rear wheel drive or front weel drive car. The common theme among them all is that you are performing compensatory steering measures, taking into account the angle of the skid, how far the rear of the car has swung out, your speed, etc. It all seems so complicated, and when you have .7 seconds to react and fix the situation or crash, simplicity is a godsend. Our instructor uttered the words that almost always are the mother of every great new idea: "There has got to be a better way"! The National Saftey Council does, in fact, have a better way.

To recover from a skid, simply steer in the direction you want your car to travel.

None of this hocus - pocus compensatory steering angles stuff. Just let off the gas, resist the temptation to slam on the brakes, and simply point your wheels in the direction where you want to go. Your vehicle will calm down and eventually go there.

Allow me to wax philosophical for a moment. Often times in life, we find ourselves in situations that feel very much like my out of control car on I-80 the other night. I know that when relationships feel like they are skidding and sliding out of control, I begin thinking of what counter-steering measure will compensate and bring things back on course. I'm thinking that compensatory measures just don't work.

I think my crazy old driving instructor had a good point. When you find things are out of control...
Let off the gas
don't brake
keep your wheels pointed in the direction you wish to be travelling.

Thanks for the tip, John.

Oh, this is so cool...

I had no idea you could do things like this! Check it out:

How to charge your iPod using an onion and gatorade

How to power a TV with a single AAA battery

How to make an audio speaker using a paper plate and a penny


Just think, if we did not know that an iPod can be powered with an onion, think of what else the government is keeping from us!

Hahahaha.... kidding, kidding...

Idaho Walmart = GOOD. Utah Walmart = BAD

After a long day of photographing power lines in the middle of nowhere, Idaho; we stopped in to Walmart for some various items. I was pleasantly suprised to find that in the real world, Wal Mart carries my favorite sauvignon blanc. They also have these cute little single serving bottle 4 packs of chardonnay and white zinfandel. Fun, huh?

And what was I doing in the middle of nowhere, Idaho, you ask? Photographing power lines, of course! Yes, I'm serious...taking pictures of power lines for a client. Romanticizing power lines. Yep. I feel photographically invincible now. :-)http://www.paulduanephoto.com/proof/Wasatch_electric/

My Retirement Plans

Okay. This is it. THIS is how I will spend my retirement years... YEAH!!!!!

Spencer's not gonna like this

I have nothing personal against LDS Church President Gordon B. Hinckley, (I really like him - who couldn't?) but I'll be surprised if he can sleep at night now... I'm certain that the ghost of Spencer W. Kimball is haunting and tormenting him as we speak.

This week, the introduction to the Book of Mormon was changed by one word. This particular word changes the historical context of the book of Mormon, and it also raises some bigger questions.
Over the years, church leaders have taught that the Lamanites are the ancestors of the native americans. Modern DNA research shows that native american people are of an asian descent, NOT hebrew - which throws the whole book of mormon story into a tailspin. Aside from questions about the Book of Mormon itself, one wonders - what exactly IS a prophet / apostle? What is the scope of their spokesmanship for eternal truth? If they are not right 100% of the time, one must wonder what other prophetic sayings and mandates will be reeled in for revision in the future.

The Salt Lake Tribune was first to break the news (a delicious irony in and of itself):
"The book's current introduction, added by the late LDS apostle Bruce R. McConkie in 1981, includes this statement: "After thousands of years, all were destroyed except the Lamanites, and they are the principal ancestors of the American Indians."
The new version, seen first in Doubleday's revised edition, reads, "After thousands of years, all were destroyed except the Lamanites, and they are among the ancestors of the American Indians."
The change "takes into account details of Book of Mormon demography which are not known," LDS spokesman Mark Tuttle said Wednesday. (see full article: http://www.sltrib.com/ci_7413508)

Read the words of the prophet Spencer W. Kimball regarding the lineage of the native americans:
"With pride I tell those who come to my office that a Lamanite is a descendant of one Lehi who left Jerusalem some 600 years before Christ and with his family crossed the mighty deep and landed in America. And Lehi and his family became the ancestors of ALL of the Indian and Mestizo tribes in North AND South AND Central America and in the islands of the sea." Spencer W. Kimball, "Of Royal Blood," Ensign, July 1971

It's always a "trial of your faith" when a modern day prophet has to eat his words. Speaking as someone who has lived mormon orthodoxy... this one's going to be a bitch.

Keep Moving Forward

"Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.."
- Walt Disney

I DON'T know!

I was having a very frank discussion with an old friend last night about "my attitude". If you are reading this, you probably have been here before, and / or are probably close enough to me to have heard some of my rantings about religion.

I realized last night that I have probably taken for granted that the true nature of my predicament has been understood. For the sake of letting my closest friend and loved ones know of my truest feelings for the things they treasure, I write this. I would never want anyone to mistakenly feel that I scorn them.

I have a dualistic nature. I have a mind and heart that are moved by the rational, compelling explanations of science. The nature of scientific thought resonates with me. I also feel a deep connection to an otherworldly spiritual realm. I've felt this way my whole life. These two realms are governed by paradigms that do not agree with each other.

My soul desires unity of though and understanding. I want to know THE TRUTH of all things. I really want to know how things work. Science and religion are two extremely compelling attempts to arrive at the truth. They both move me deeply - and in different, opposing directions.

I am conflicted.

For most of my life, there were essentially deadlines that required me to make up my mind regarding what I thought about these things. This is the first time in my life when I have felt like I truly can sit down on the path of life, and just wait for more information. I don't feel a sense of urgency to make up my mind about which path is true. If we really are eternal beings, I've got all of eternity to get this figured out. I feel compelled to do the best that I know how to do with the truths that I find self evident today. What new truth will I discover tomorrow? I do not know. I'll follow it when it comes.

I've spent so much of my life fervently saying, "I know, with every fiber of my being..."; I've spent so much of my life surrounded by people who seem to KNOW all of the answers... I've spent so much of my life quietly and privately knowing that I really don't know...

It has been a wonderful feeling to finally allow myself to say "I DON'T know!"
I am grateful for the bizzare chain of events that have led me to feel free of any pressure to decide that I "KNOW" things. I'm finally okay with not knowing all of the answers to the big questions.

There are times when I seem to lash out at the establishments of organized religion. I think I'm still mourning 30 years of relinquished honest living. Perhaps you are familiar with the various stages of mourning... And another thing perhaps you should know about me. Maybe I don't have to say this, but I don't want to take anything for granted. I often think out loud. I enjoy debate - it is my laboratory of thought. I'll often take a position and argue it for a while with people around me, just to see what holes they can shoot through it. It's a way for me to test ideas out, to question my own assumptions, and ultimately, my pursuit of truth.

One final thought. I realize that religion serves the emotional needs of a great many people. As I was visiting Ashley's church with her last week, I watched people react emotionally (even speaking in tongues) to various parts of the service. My inner scientist is, of course, studying the contingencies of reinforcement in this fascinating social landscape, mapping out the behavioral mechanisms that compel people to behave this way. My inner spiritualist, although not even remotely moved by the doctrines and praising being pedaled from the pulpit, realizes - We all have emotional needs. Here is a group of people who have come together to meet one another's emotional needs. I honor that. I am happy that they can have those needs met. I would NEVER want them to go unmet.

Organized religion happens to not meet my emotional needs. Please do not take this as a lack of spirituality on my part. My spirituality happens profoundly, and in private (such as my recent time in moab).

And when you hear me speaking about religion, please know that I'm simply in my lab, trying to figure it all out.

Here's what I DO know: "I still cling to hope, and I believe in love, and that's faith enough for me" - Neil Peart

The Perfect Day

"Why would they do these unspeakable things to our kids?"

"...They want to create something so horrible that we will lose control in our reaction... They want to reduce us to animals like them ...so that they can get the islamic world behind them and finally get the holy war that they want kicked off an ignited..."

This will make 9/11 look like a birthday party.

Watch this CNN special:

Part 1: "The Perfect Day Explained"
Part 2 : The Beslan School Siege: Lessons for America
Part 3: Attack on our schools: The Day After
Part 4: Preparation, Not Panic

And after you see this, think... what would this scenario be like if all of our teachers are trained, and required to carry firearms at school?

Dream Big - Ryan Shupe & The Rubberband

Ogden's Mother Theresa - in a football coach's body

....And then, there are people like Jesse.
I spent the day helping Ashley run her speech & debate tournament today when I had the pleasure of meeting a good soul named Jesse. I had caught wind that he was a pastor of sorts. The morning got off to a slow start, giving us some time to make small talk.

He's a man on a mission. He feels called by Jesus to minister to the fringes of society. The "throw away people", as he calls them... the people that the mainstream would rather just ignore- homeless and transient people, specifically. "God told me to 'go find the people that nobody wants, and tell them, that I want them' ", he recounts.

All too often, , it's easy to trace the motives of any given religionist to power, money, pride, fear, or all of the above.

This guy has me stumped. Here is a guy whose ministry revolves around feeding and clothing the needy, homeless people of Ogden - out of his own pocket. He holds his "services" at a well frequented park in town.... he preaches "the word" and feeds his homeless flock a meal every week - all out of his own pocket. (this urban sermon on the mount lands on as many as 150 pair of ears on any given sunday). And a collection tray?

I don't think so.

It's guys like this that give the whole Jesus story some real credence.

To loosely quote a chapter in the book of James:

THIS is pure religion.

The fruit of the faithfull

Click on the image to see a bigger version - read the article.

Man's inhumanity toward man, all in the name of God. It's things like this that leave me feeling very discouraged about the phenomenon of religion. Caricature-esque behavior like this is haunting, because we all know of examples close to home where similar divisiveness has been carried out in the name of "God". You know who they are .... your relative who says they would rather have thier son come home in a casket than sent home dishonorably from church mission service ...your friend's family who threatens to disown them if they convert from the traditional family religion to another one ...your closeted homosexual friend who has attempted suicide a number of times, because they know that their family will utterly scorn them if the secret ever gets out... your sibling who is the subject of much condescending discussion in family conversations, because they no longer are active in the church... You see it happen every day.

Let us be honest - does religion divide or unite people - fellow "sons and daughters of God"?

People argue that religion helps unite families...

... More often than not, "religious differences" are the reason for so many relationships ending, bitter family divides, and unspoken hurt.

And let us now invoke an old scriptural maxim: "By thier fruits ye shall know them".

If these are the fruits of religion - dividing us from one another - I want to stay as far away from it as possible. People often extol religion's benefits of helping people - but I've got news for you. Religion is not the only institution known to mankind that is concerned with, and working toward the betterment of individuals, families, and the global community. See my adjacent post on Secular Humanism.

Secular Humanism

Secular Humanism is a way of thinking and living that aims to bring out the best in people so that all people can have the best in life. Secular humanists reject supernatural and authoritarian beliefs. They affirm that we must take responsibility for our own lives and the communities and world in which we live. Secular humanism emphasizes reason and scientific inquiry, individual freedom and responsibility, human values and compassion, and the need for tolerance and cooperation.

Building a better world - A conviction that with reason, an open exchange of ideas, good will, and tolerance, progress can be made in building a better world for ourselves and our children.

Secular humanism is a broad philosophic position and not simply a statement about belief or non-belief in God. Accordingly, it is inaccurate to identify secular humanism as being the same thing as nontheism, atheism, or agnosticism

source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Secular_humanism

The Affirmations of Humanism:
A Statement of Principles

• We are committed to the application of reason and science to the understanding of the universe and to the solving of human problems.
• We deplore efforts to denigrate human intelligence, to seek to explain the world in supernatural terms, and to look outside nature for salvation.
• We believe that scientific discovery and technology can contribute to the betterment of human life.
• We believe in an open and pluralistic society and that democracy is the best guarantee of protecting human rights from authoritarian elites and repressive majorities.
• We are committed to the principle of the separation of church and state.
• We cultivate the arts of negotiation and compromise as a means of resolving differences and achieving mutual understanding.
• We are concerned with securing justice and fairness in society and with eliminating discrimination and intolerance.
• We believe in supporting the disadvantaged and the handicapped so that they will be able to help themselves.
• We attempt to transcend divisive parochial loyalties based on race, religion, gender, nationality, creed, class, sexual orientation, or ethnicity, and strive to work together for the common good of humanity.
• We want to protect and enhance the earth, to preserve it for future generations, and to avoid inflicting needless suffering on other species.
• We believe in enjoying life here and now and in developing our creative talents to their fullest.
• We believe in the cultivation of moral excellence.
• We respect the right to privacy. Mature adults should be allowed to fulfill their aspirations, to express their sexual preferences, to exercise reproductive freedom, to have access to comprehensive and informed health-care, and to die with dignity.
• We believe in the common moral decencies: altruism, integrity, honesty, truthfulness, responsibility. Humanist ethics is amenable to critical, rational guidance. There are normative standards that we discover together. Moral principles are tested by their consequences.
• We are deeply concerned with the moral education of our children. We want to nourish reason and compassion.
• We are engaged by the arts no less than by the sciences.
• We are citizens of the universe and are excited by discoveries still to be made in the cosmos.
• We are skeptical of untested claims to knowledge, and we are open to novel ideas and seek new departures in our thinking.
• We affirm humanism as a realistic alternative to theologies of despair and ideologies of violence and as a source of rich personal significance and genuine satisfaction in the service to others.
• We believe in optimism rather than pessimism, hope rather than despair, learning in the place of dogma, truth instead of ignorance, joy rather than guilt or sin, tolerance in the place of fear, love instead of hatred, compassion over selfishness, beauty instead of ugliness, and reason rather than blind faith or irrationality.
• We believe in the fullest realization of the best and noblest that we are capable of as human beings.

source: http://www.secularhumanism.org/index.php?section=main&page=affirmations

My daughters - the witches

Off to see the wizard, on the .. uh, . grey and red brick road.

"Glenda", The witch of the North.

The Wicked Witch of the West

It will all start with Fido

On my way home from Ogden the other night, I saw this sign:

Fido is first.
...and then Grandpa. (more here) (and more here).
... and then the military. This might include you. (click here to read more)
... and then....

Where will the line be drawn?

All of this will be done in the name of "home land security" and "the war on terror" and personal safety.
Truly, we have nothing to fear MORE than fear, itself.

chicken private parts

Sunday afternoon finds me playing daddy chef. Today's specials are chicken nuggets with a delicious tomato reduction sauce, and pan seared cheddar sandwiches, featuring the finest bleached white flour bread.

Makelle orders her usual: 6 nuggets. Makinley opts for the pan seared cheddar & white flour cake delicacy (sans crust, of course).

You would think that in her 8 years, (a handful of which she has been literate), she would have made this discover by now. Alas, today will go down in infamy: the day when the grand mystery was laid open: "Daddy, where do chicken nuggets come from?"

"Chicken.... breast .... nuggets", she slowly read from the bag, her face contorting more with each word.

Makinley looked toward me in disgust and cupped her hands in front of her chest. This was no ordinary gesture. It was that universal, inborn sign language typically only seen exhibited by men. You know what I'm talking about - the way you see men gesturing in Victoria's Secret in embarrassing efforts to describe their beloved's bosoms to quietly amused bra sales girls.

"Chicken boobs? THAT's where they come from? EEEWWWW!!!!!"

(kind of reminds me of a favorite prank call I would regularly make to the local KFC when I was a kid, but that's a story for another day)

A discussion about why chickens don't wear bras eventually calmed her down.

I love my kids. I'll never be able to order McNuggets without a good laugh from now on. And thus, my world is forever a happier place. :-)

warm fuzzies for geeks

I helped search for a cure for AIDS today. Read on...

I've got two computers, a desktop and laptop. My desktop is used primarily for heavy duty image editing. My laptop is there to help me communicate; email, IM, blogging, word processing, music, etc.Typically my attention is directed to one computer or the other, sometimes switching back and forth every 10 minutes. While I use one, the other sits idle. At night, I turn off the monitors, but leave the CPU's running, as I don't want to close out all the things I was in the middle of when I quit working the day prior. Also, my laptop plugs into my stereo and plays music to me while I sleep at night. At any rate, these faithful companions of mine do spend a lot of time... waiting.... waiting... waiting.... for me to give them something to do.

I found the coolest thing, and I have to tell you about it. When a computer is idle, or doing very little (like playing music), there is a lot of wasted CPU processing potential. There is a recent development called "distributed computing" that pools the resources of thousands of computers like yours mine - unused minutes and hours of CPU time - into a conglomeration of CPU time that amounts to massive supercomputing power.

Modern scientific research is dependent upon gargantuan amounts of computer power to crunch through massive amounts of data. In years past, researchers would have to apply for time on a very expensive super computer. In "distributed computing", your computer's unused minutes and hours are donated to a project of your choice. The cumulative effect of donated computer time amounts to supercomputer power available for researchers. It's very simple, you download a small program that politely runs in the background. When it detects your computer is idle (you have full control of these settings), it begins working on small chunks of the larger number crunching job that you've volunteered to work on - all of this coordinated via your internet connection.

For instance, when my laptop's screen saver kicks on, my computer works on a protein sequencing research being done by the University of Washington. The results of these computations are used in the fight against HIV, Alzheimer's, and cancer. While I write this blog on my laptop, my formerly-idle desktop PC is crunching numbers for researchers at Oxford University. They are studying global climate change, which requires massive amounts of computational power.

Would you like knowing your own computer is helping to help save the world and your fellow man? Join a research project today:
Berkeley Open Infrastructure for Network Computing

http://boinc.berkeley.edu

Please See Cashier For Details

The war on gasoline... uh, I mean... terror, is alive and well at the Flying J truckstop in Brigham City, Utah!


I'm kind of laughing, I'm kind of incensed.

Yet another example of how the governmental elite are trying to scare us a little bit every day, carefully coaxing us to sign away our individual liberties all in the name of security, one piece at a time, until that awful day...

It doesn't matter what book you read

"If there is light on this earth
Let us use it
Let us see it
Starting right now
Can we be down with ourselves?
Respectful and mindful of one
One another,
Your significant other,
Your sister or brother?
Peace
Love
More tolerance
Faith
Hope
Trust in the same name of God
In whose name we die for,
Take an innocent life for
Well that's not what He means
And it doesn't matter what Book you read"

- "What He Means", Just Jinjer
www.justjinjer.com

a 2112 prayer for my girls

"What can this strange device be?
When I touch it, it gives forth a sound
It's got wires that vibrate and give music
What can this thing be that I found?

See how it sings like a sad heart
And joyously screams out its pain
Sounds that build high like a mountain
Or notes that fall gently like rain

I can't wait to share this new wonder
The people will all see its light
Let them all make their own music
The Priests praise my name on this night"

- 2112, by RUSH

good night

It's my weekend to have my daughters visiting. I don't know why exactly, but I've been looking forward to this visit unusually so.

As I tucked them into bed tonight, I helped them get drinks of water... I put on a CD of lullabies and primary songs on repeat to softly serenade them through the night. Lastly, I hunched over the bed to tell each one goodnight. I leaned over and hugged Kinley through her blankets, and whispered to her, "You are my favorite big girl in the whole wide world, Kinley-kinley-bo-binley". She hunkered down even deeper into the blankets and pillow, clearly feeling wonderfully cozy and uniquely satisfied. I then moved over to Makelle's side of the bed, similarly hugged her through the blankets, whispered sweet-daddy-nothings into her drowsy ears, kissed her on the cheek, and softly caressed her pony-tailed brown locks. As I cupped the better part of her little head in my expansive hand, softly scratching and massaging the back of her scalp, I could see a smile emerge on her sleepy face that told me a hundred bedtime stories...

...this is the moment she has been living for, all week long.


If there is a God in heaven, I'm sure I just tasted the bittersweet nature of a diety father in the most miniscule of microcosm - the pain of separation from my dear children, layered with the unspeakable sweetness of witnessing thier satisfaction and almost visceral joy at our occasional reuniting. God, I don't really know if you are there - I think you understand why I wonder.

But if you are...

I don't know how you do it.

Lipstick Covered Latte

Sunday morning laziness
in a bed of rumpled sheets
warm breath upon skin
hearts that gently beat
newspaper across the bed
gentle breeze upon the pane
loosely entwined fingers
you softly call her name
My unexpected presence
A tear you cannot see
A lipstick covered latte
that doesn't belong to me

poem by Crystal Shearer
photo by Paul Duane

The pills that I've been taking confuse me

Do you know someone diagnosed with ADD or ADHD? Do you know of a child that struggles in school, under the guise of having this "disorder"? Are you and adult, like me, that struggles with these symptoms... resulting only in confusion and unhappiness? Read on...

"The use of antipsychotic medication in children has increased fivefold between 1995 and 2002. More than 2.5 million children are now taking these medications, and many children are taking multiple drugs at one time.

The symptoms of ADHD are strikingly similar to indications that a child is gifted, and bored in an unchallenging classroom."

From Dr. Ron Paul's 1 october issue of "Texas Straight Talk" (see more Ron Paul: www.pauljensen.net/ronpaul)

Porcupine Tree's latest album, "Fear Of A Blank Planet" addresses this same concern... check out the music video and lyrics below:




Sunlight coming through the haze
Don't try engaging me
The vaguest of shrugs
The prescription drugs
You'll never find a person inside

How can I be sure I'm here?
The pills that I've been taking confuse me
I need to know that someone sees that
There's nothing left, I simply am not here

In school I don't concentrate
And sex is kinda fun, but just another one
Of all the empty ways of using up the day

How can I be sure I'm here?
The pills that I've been taking confuse me
I need to know that someone sees that
There's nothing left, I simply am not here

Bipolar disorder
Can't deal with this boredom
Bipolar disorder
Can't deal with this boredom

You don't try to be liked
You don't mind
You feel no sun
You steal a gun
To kill time

oh, wow....

This has to be the coolest thing ever. I love the guitar playing, the filming is so, so, cooool.... this makes me want to learn guitar, take up music video filming, and move to south America.

Moab Musings

The beginning of this week was spent in Moab photographing a wedding of a couple who traveled from Germany to be married in Moab. Much magic and wonder was in the air. Do you ever have days that are so full of awe, wonder, and power, that it's difficult to summarize it into anything intelligible? I stood at the edge of every cliff I encountered. I was awestruck at the juxtaposition of the ancient silence that coated the awesome structures that mother nature has created of red rock.

8:00am, Arches National Park: I have never seen or met my wedding clients before... I stepped out of the car to meet them for the first time. They had traveled from Germany to have their wedding in Moab, and I was their photographer of choice. I was greeted by a most charming and picturesque couple, David and Anna. We proceeded up to a few predetermined shooting sites within Arches National Park. Aside from being a strikingly beautiful couple, they were amazingly easy to shoot, on a personal level. Every shot came naturally and quickly. This very positive photo session certainly was an omen for the rest of the day.

My story would not be complete without mention of the soundtrack of my trip. I discovered a group called "Blackfield" (which is a side project of Stephen Wilson, founder of Porcupine Tree). Specifically, the song "Blackfield" must have been played 487 times during my trip. Wilson's musical vision is as grand and breathtaking as the red rock country I was playing in. (you can check it out on the playlist that is here on the blog)

Following lunch, I was able to squeeze in time for a bike ride at Slickrock. There are places in Southern Utah that have the unique gift of reminding you that you're ALIVE. Slickrock was one such place. After arrving at the trail head parking lot, I found a sign and map station. The sign at the trail head included warnings about wearing a helmet, bringing twice the water you think you'll need, blah blah blah... be careful, blah blah... to some extent, I wrote it off just like I do when my well intentioned mother tells me to be careful. I was there with no helmet, very little water, and a lot of bravado.

It's too bad you can't drink bravado.

At Slickrock, there is a main trail (about 12 miles) and a "practice loop" (about 2 miles). Normally, I would ride 12 miles without giving it a second thought. I'm grateful I was on a schedule, as my time constraints may be the only thing that kept me from perishing on the 12 mile route. I took the 2 mile loop for the sake of time concerns. As I said before, Moab has a way of reminding you that you're alive...and did so, piece at a time:

• Quads... check.
• calfs... check.
• wrists... check.
• manhood...check. Yep. Lower the seat. This is rough riding.
• lungs... oh yeah.
• eyes... check. Wish I had 2 more so I could watch the scenery pass by AND the trail.
• parched tongue.... check.

Half way through my ride, I came upon a box canyon composed of magnificent red rock. I situated my bike and proceeded by foot down to the edge of the cliff. I sat for a while, dangling my feet off the edge, contemplating the forces that have sculpted such a masterpiece... pondering the various men and animals that have wandered these ways, wondering how they have experienced it. I began feeling slightly dizzy (likely attributable to the million degree temps and shortage of water). Questionable equilibrium is not your friend when sitting on the precipice of a 200 foot cliff. Back to the bike, onward on the "little trail"... 30 minutes, 1 crash, and a billion expended calories later... I arrived back at my car. I've never been so happy to see that old beast.

...a quick stop at my hotel to shower up...
Next stop... Castle Rock Winery.

This is a shot of the syrah vines at the Castlerock vineyard.

Who knew that Utah had "wine country"? And who would have guessed that it would be in southeastern Utah? Turns out, this is the only place in Utah with suitable wine grape growing conditions. Last night's dinner provided the opportunity to try their Chenin Blanc, (very fruit forward, I recall flavors of apple, citrus, and perhaps a slight floral hint, with subdued alcohol and a very clean simple finish) which paired wonderfully with a roasted tomato cream based chicken "pasta milano" dish. If you are ever in the mood for a cheerful, fruity, umcomplicated white, but find pinot grigio to be lacking in personality, Castlerock's chenin blanc is just the ticket. They also produce pinot noir, merlot, cabernet sauvingnon, and chardonnay. I enjoyed a quick self "mini tour" of the wine making facility and vineyard before shooting David and Anna's ceremony, also held at Castlerock / Redcliff Lodge.

Me at Castlerock / Red Cliffs Lodge in Moab. It's been a great day so far... Great photography, beautiful bride and groom, amazing music, breathtaking biking, business networking, great scenery, good wine, and open road to come...

Next stop, Deadhorse point...
I arrived at dusk. My initial hope was to capture shots with the evening sun casting orange glow on the east facing facets of the canyon. Despite my best efforts to speed my way there, the sun had already set. I was tempted to turn back... I tried to maintain a zen attitude about the whole thing. I proceeded past the closed ranger station, past a few exiting cars, and into the park alone. There were many times that I had the distinct sense of walking on holy ground. I almost felt to remove my shoes. That may sound odd. It does as I write it... and yet, I clearly remember the impressions. I took each step deliberately and quietly as I explored this otherworldly place.

I don't claim to be a landscape photographer. This is just a simple snapshot that I hope at least communicates the locale of my story.

In soul stretching solitude, I gazed out over the expansive view of Deadhorse point. Somehow, you expect something as large and awesome as this to generate sound. It was as quiet as a painting, and almost too magnificent to NOT be a painting. There were moments I questioned the reality of the muddy river below. I could not shake the feeling that despite my utter aloneness, there was a discernible, multitudinous presence that seemed to be hiding in this place. I felt like a guest in the grand ballroom of the the world of spirits. I was in the place for a party reserved only for those of another realm - whose party could only start without me. I was the last mortal guest to arrive, and although anxious for me to leave, my spirit guests were graciously tolerating my reluctance to go home. In my mind's eye I could imagine that every nook and cranny held the ghosts who were politely yet anxiously waiting for me to leave. I am convinced that as I turned my back and departed, the canyons below became ablaze with the spirits of men and horses... jubilantly communing, making music, riding the range, dancing, celebrating the memories of mortal joy and the exuberance of eternity.

Standing on the edge of the cliff in near darkness, I was compelled to whisper a prayer, as It was obvious he who listens to prayers was very, very near.

The problem

Watch these videos. This will make you think:

A possible Solution

Dr. Ron Paul, congressman from Texas... an underdog, yet revolutionary thinker in the Presidential Campaign race.

Brief Overview of Congressman Paul’s Record:

He has never voted to raise taxes.
He has never voted for an unbalanced budget.
He has never voted for a federal restriction on gun ownership.
He has never voted to raise congressional pay.
He has never taken a government-paid junket.
He has never voted to increase the power of the executive branch.

He voted against the Patriot Act.
He voted against regulating the Internet.
He voted against the Iraq war.

He does not participate in the lucrative congressional pension program.
He returns a portion of his annual congressional office budget to the U.S. treasury every year.


Click here to hear what Dr. Ron Paul has to say about some of the most potent issues facing our nation:
http://www.ronpaul2008.com/snippets/7/

RUSH!

Finally, I have photos from the Rush concert posted! As you can imagine, it was a glorious evening. As many of you know, I have been working on getting a photo pass for the show, which would have allowed me stage access to get shots. Sadly, all of my efforts failed. I brought a little point and shoot camera with me to snap a few shots of the evening. Click here to see my report from the 6 August Rush concert at USANA Amphitheater.

I ate too many fortune cookies

I ate a whole bag of fortune cookies to bring you the following wisdom. :-P hahaha... nah. I just stole them from some dude's page. Many of these struck a poignant note with me. How about you?

• The biggest lie you can tell yourself is, "When I get what I want I will be happy."
• Creativity is great but plagiarism is faster.
• You dont win silver, you lose gold.
• Stop earning the right to be, you won the day you were born.
• If you dont know what direction you should take, you don't know where you are.
• Success is a matter of luck, ask any failure.
• Never let a fool kiss you, or a kiss fool you.
• We are born naked, wet, and hungry, then things get worse.
• Your success is measured by your ability to finish things.
• Skepticism is the beginning of faith.
• Forgive your enemies but never forget their names.
• There is no such thing as right or wrong, only consequences.
• All men are born equal but quite a few of them eventually get over it.
• We are the people our parents warned us about.
• Somtimes I think the surest sign of intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe, is that none of them have tried to contact us.
• Be nice to nerds, chances are you'll end up working for one.
• Do not get mad with others because they know more than you, it is not their fault.
• If you do not change your beliefs, your life will always be like this.
• Fantasy is as important as wisdom.
• Do not try to satisfy everyone.
• Don't take life too seriously... you wont get out alive.
• It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.
• Life is shorter than expected, What you are willing to accept is exactly what you will get.
• You can't control, without being controlled.
• You are the very reason for everything that happens to you.
• Someone said to Voltaire, "life is hard", Voltaire replied, "Compared to what?"

I wish he were one of my friends

I happened upon some quotations by Ray Bradbury. This is a guy that I wish I could have hung out with. Wow. What a beautiful mind:

"Love. Fall in love and stay in love. Write only what you love, and love what you write. The key word is love. You have to get up in the morning and write something you love, something to live for."

"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down."

"If you don't like what you're doing, then don't do it."

"Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things."

(all quotations by Ray Bradbury)

The Holy Vacation

Okay. I think I really have, truly, got it figured out now.
Life can be crazy, but I think I'm finally understanding.

SERIOUSLY.

I think this is it.

Ever have those times when you ask God for help with something, and ... it seems as it has fallen on deaf ears?

Nietzsche says "God is Dead".

I disagree. I absolutely believe God is around somewhere... but...




GOD is....






on.....






Vacation!



Here's how I figure... We all know that God is a big fan of the number 7. Every 7 days, He rests. Well, it turns out, he also rests 1/7th of the year, too... on the Holy Vacation! Makes sense, right? And furthermore, I think I've nailed down when the Sacred Surfing takes place... First of all, God LOVES a great Summer Equinox party! (I mean, why not? He created the summer equinox, which happens in June...) You see, God really knows how to party. This equinox party is truly celestial in scale. The party / Holy Vacation extends through most of June and the better part of July... which, if you do the math, works out to the said 1/7th of the year spent in "resting".
(The word on the street is that the Holy Vacation took place in the Bahamas this year)

SEE??!!! I told you I was on to something. It gets better.

How do I know this?
Well, you see, last June, I had major problems in pretty much every area of my life. I was at an all time low, and I needed help, desperately. I tried to get some help by visiting one of His local branches... just like the snooty teller at my bank, the representatives there were none too anxious to assist. So on top of my original dilemmas, I had a bone to pick with him about some of his "staff".

I made many, many calls to His personal office last June. I kept leaving messages on His voicemail. In times past, that has worked out okay... within a reasonable amount of time, God, or one of his interns would respond to my request.

But last June... nada. No answer. No return calls. ...[chirping crickets].... [the dry, dusty wind blowing].... That was all I coud hear. Although, I did get a few "courtesy letters" from God's office several months ago.. but only enough to get my hopes up.

SO.... this June rolls around, all hell starts breaking loose in my life again...and.... *poof*... not only is God not answering again, but, it looks like this year's intern is even worse than last year's. Things have really gone to hell around here! I mean, you would think that, considering how high-and-dry He and His staff left me last year... one might think that, being all powerful, (and probably all-considerate and all thoughtful, too) that he would have given that silly new intern some directions to really, really take care of me this year while he's out on vacation. You know - just to make up for all the trouble last June... just for the sake of customer satisfaction... would that have been too much to ask? Even my cell phone company did that for me once.


I'm guessing, by the shape of things... that this intern tried to do a "work from home" kind of thing... I can see it now. A week before the Holy Vacation is scheduled to start, Saint Intern calls in... "So, God, I've got this idea that will save us all a lot of time and gas.. I'll just work from home while you are out, how about that? I've got a great office here, I'm all set up.... hey, I even bought A NEW FAX machine JUST for this! So whaddaya think??" I'm guessing that phone call was made from the beach in Tahiti. I'll bet it was a scene JUST LIKE you would see on the Corona beer commercials, where the guy throws his cell phone into the ocean, and kicks back a cold one...

Nice intern, God.

sailing with the captain

DID YOU KNOW that the term, "3 sheets to the wind", a common euphemism for inebriation, has nautical origins? The good folks at www.WhatDoesThatMean.com offer this explanation:

"Taken from sailing a square-rigged sailboat; square sails had four sheets (the ropes attached to the corners of the sail) to control them. If one or even two sheets went "to the wind" (meaning flapping in the breeze and hard to retrieve) the boat was still quasi-controllable. However, if a third sheet was lost to the wind, you had no way to fill your sail and were essentially out of control."

Now you know! Aaaarrrhhhgg!

- captain paul

3 Feet from Gold

An excerpt from Napoleon Hill's classic, "Think And Grow Rich".

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

THREE FEET FROM GOLD

One of the most common causes of failure is the habit of quitting when one is overtaken by temporary defeat. Every person is guilty of this mistake at one time or another.

An uncle of R. U. Darby was caught by the "gold fever" in the gold-rush days, and went west to DIG AND GROW RICH. He had never heard that more gold has been mined from the brains of men than has ever been taken from the earth. He staked a claim and went to work with pick and shovel. The going was hard, but his lust for gold was definite.

After weeks of labor, he was rewarded by the discovery of the shining ore. He needed machinery to bring the ore to the surface. Quietly, he covered up the mine, retraced his footsteps to his home in Williamsburg, Maryland, told his relatives and a few neighbors of the "strike." They got together money for the needed machinery, had it shipped. The uncle and Darby went back to work the mine.

The first car of ore was mined, and shipped to a smelter. The returns proved they had one of the richest mines in Colorado! A few more cars of that ore would clear the debts. Then would come the big killing in profits.

Down went the drills! Up went the hopes of Darby and Uncle! Then something happened! The vein of gold ore disappeared! They had come to the end of the rainbow, and the pot of gold was no longer there! They drilled on, desperately trying to pick up the vein again--all to no avail.

Finally, they decided to QUIT.

They sold the machinery to a junk man for a few hundred dollars, and took the train back home. Some "junk" men are dumb, but not this one! He called in a mining engineer to look at the mine and do a little calculating. The engineer advised that the project had failed, because the owners were not familiar with "fault lines." His calculations showed that the vein would be found JUST THREE FEET FROM WHERE THE DARBYS HAD STOPPED DRILLING! That is exactly where it was found!

The "Junk" man took millions of dollars in ore from the mine, because he knew enough to seek expert counsel before giving up.

Most of the money which went into the machinery was procured through the efforts of R. U. Darby, who was then a very young man. The money came from his relatives and neighbors, because of their faith in him. He paid back every dollar of it, although he was years in doing so.

Long afterward, Mr. Darby recouped his loss many times over, when he made the discovery that DESIRE can be transmuted into gold. The discovery came after he went into the business of selling life insurance.

Remembering that he lost a huge fortune, because he STOPPED three feet from gold, Darby profited by the experience in his chosen work, by the simple method of saying to himself, "I stopped three feet from gold, but I will never stop because men say 'no' when I ask them to buy insurance."

Who would have guessed that Utah is so cool?

"Utah, is the only state in the union that has a full-time wine taster on the payroll. Brett Clifford, 53, is Utah's wine ambassador, a job that requires him to taste every vintage sold in Utah. Due to Clifford's efforts to bring the best wines to the state, the wine specialty store at 255 South 300 East has become a Mecca for grape aficionados. It stocks more than 2200 kinds of wine, every one of them taste tested by Clifford." - USA TODAY

Quote of the week

"It is wrong to criticize church leaders, even if the criticism is true."

- Dallin H. Oaks; interview given in PBS special "The Mormons"


Hmmmm..... am I the only one that feels uneasy about this?

New Rush Album

9:30am... wake up. Pace around the house like a kid waiting to see what Santa brought.
10:00am - the record store is finaly open!
10:04am - I'm the proud new owner of "Snakes and Arrows", the new Rush release.

I'm not even done with a first listen, and I'm already finding gems throughout this album. WOW. There are 3 instrumentals on this album! WOW! Count 'em.. 1, 2, 3. Yep. Talk about ear candy.
I don't know how, but Neil, Geddy, and Alex seem to somehow write music that tracks the story of my life.

Track 1, "Far Cry"

"Pariah dogs and wandering madmen
barking at strangers and speaking in tongues
The ebb and flow of tidal fortune
Electrical changes are charging up the young

It's a far cry from the world we thought we'd inherit
It's a far cry from the way we thought we'd share it
You can almost feel the current flowing
You can almost see the circuits blowing

One day I feel I'm on top of the world
and the next it's falling in on me
I can get back on, I can get back on
One day I feel I'm ahead of the wheel
And the next it's rolling over me
I can get back on, I can get back on"

An excerpt from track 9, "Faithless"

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in Love
And that's faith enough for me

I've got my own spirit level for balance
To tell if my choice is leading up or down
All the shouting voices Try to thow me off my course
Some by sermons, some by force

Killswitch Engage: "my curse"

"I watched you walk away • Hopeless, with nothing to say • I screen my eyes • Hoping to see you again

This is my curse (the longing)
This is my curse (time)
This is my curse (the yearning)
This is my curse

There is love burning to find you • Will you wait for me? • Will you be here? •
Your silence haunts me • But I still hunger for you

This is my curse (the wanting)
This is my curse (time)
This is my curse (the needing)
This is my curse

There is love burning to find you • Will you wait for me?

And still I want
And still I ache
But still I wait
To see you again

Sade: Lovers Live

uuhhh.... wow.

Rush: Wine Geeks

By James Suckling
From Wine Spectator magazine, April 30, 2007 issue

Rush guitarist Alex Lifeson, 53, was born in British Columbia. Lifeson, Geddy Lee and John Rutsey formed the rock band in 1968. (Rutsey, the drummer, was replaced by Neil Peart in 1974.) Lifeson has been the composer and guitarist on each of Rush's 23 albums; a 24th is due for release in April. The band's sound has evolved with the times, and so has Lifeson's taste in wine. When Rush started out, the band members drank cheap wine and malt liquor backstage; now they prefer Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Along with collecting, Lifeson enjoys pitching in now and then to help make wine, but what he likes most of all is sharing great bottles with friends. Alex Lifeson was recently interviewed by European bureau chief James Suckling.

Wine Spectator: How did you first get into wine?
Alex Lifeson: I think I started looking for wines to buy in 1975. Before that, the wines we drank were like Mateus. Two bottles of Blue Nun and Night Train is what we used to get in the dressing room in the early days. [Then] we had a gig in Milwaukee, and the promoter there had an interest in wine. He asked, "Do you guys like wine?" We said, "Oh yeah, we love it. We drink Blue Nun all the time." He took us to this restaurant and said, "Now you're going to drink a bottle of Latour and a bottle of Margaux." I was blown away. The wines had so much depth and evolved over the course of the dinner. I had no idea that wine could be like that.

WS: You've collected about 1,200 bottles. Any favorites?
AL: I really like the Rhône. All the Guigals have been my favorites, particularly the single-vineyard wines. I had access to them about 10 or 12 years ago when they really weren't that popular. I bought as much as I could at the time, so I ended up with probably five cases or so, a mix going back to '78. I kind of got pissed off at the prices of wine. It really bothered me that to get some of these great wines you spend 100, 200, 300 bucks on a bottle. I just can't justify that. I don't care about the prestige of the wine.

WS: Do you buy California wines?
AL: [I buy] Joseph Phelps, [because] I worked at Phelps for one week in 1990. We played in San Francisco, and the promoters sent us to Phelps. We just fell in love with everyone there. They were so nice. We were sitting outside eating and drinking every wine they ever made—Backus, Insignia. We also drank some of their Johannisberg Rieslings. And Délice. In fact, I was drinking Délice out of barrel every morning that week. That was like my orange juice.

WS: Do you guys have good wine when you are on tour?
AL: Are you kidding? We play the gig and then the dressing room is quiet for maybe half an hour after the show. We have a chef with us, and he cooks according to what we are going to drink that night. We bring stemless Riedels with us on the road.

2 wires

I am online.

I communicate with my friends online. I shop online. I pay bills online. I read the news online. I recieve spiritual guidance online. I find and communicate with clients online. I met the love of my life online. I buy music online. I tell jokes online. I meet new friends online. I share glimpses into my inner life through my blog, online. Much of my communication with my best friend and soul mate occurs online. I share family photos online. I offend people online. I make ammends online. I attend business meetings online. I get recipes online. I deliver finished goods - photographs - online. I watch movies online. I give up on God online. I balance my checkbook online. I rediscover God online. I gather information for important life events online. I obtain new tools for my business online. I meet demons online. I encounter angels online. I lose money online. I make money online. I have reunions with long lost friends online. I pontificate online. I quarrel online. I laugh online. I cry online. I accomplish my dreams online.

My computer is attatched to a router with a cable - there are 10 very thin strands of copper in this cable. The router is connected to the modem; 10 strands as well.. only 4 of them actually are used to transmit data. The modem connects to the phone jack. The phone wiring has 4 strands of copper. Only 2 of those tiny strands are used to transmit a signal, connecting me, inside the house, to the phone company network... and the rest of the world.

And thus...
my life
exists

on
two

very thin,

very long

strands


of



copper.

Where were the heros today?

I've been watching the news today regarding the shooting massacre at Virginia Tech. Somehow this demon was able to carry out killings in 2 locations, hours apart, on a college campus.

I'm reminded of the hero who brought an end to the massacre-in-progress at the recent the Trolley Square shooting. (For those of you unfamiliar with the story, a gunman killed 6 in a shopping mall in down town SLC... The shooting was brought to an end by a man who was legally carrying a concealed weapon. He was having dinner with his wife at the mall; because he was prepared, we was able to step up to the challenge - he shot the gunman, saving countless lives.)

On the news tonight, Blacksburg and VA Tech students repeated the phrase "things don't happen like that in our town". "Understanding the motivation of America's latest shooter will be a harder task", says the news anchor.

Understanding the prevention of 30 deaths today is not a hard task. All it would have taken is one hero. One person lawfully carrying a firearm, one person willing to step up to defend the lives of innocent students. One person willing to save some lives. Someone who would be willing and prepared to stop the mad man from carrying on the rest of the slaughter. One brave bullet from one lawful concealed weapon holder - would have saved dozens of lives.

Why was nobody prepared to defend their fellow man from the senseless, lawless rage of the gunman?

I live in a town where "things like that don't happen". This tradgedy strengthens my personal resolve to become a concealed weapons permit holder - to make sure that "things like this don't happen".

Today, in Blacksburg Virginia, there were no heros.

reflections on the Tao Te Ching

When the Tao is lost, there is goodness.
When goodness is lost, there is morality.
When morality is lost, there is ritual.
Ritual is the husk of true faith,
the beginning of chaos.

(#38, S. Mitchel translation of Tao Te Ching)

When they lose their sense of awe, 
people turn to religion. 
When they no longer trust themselves, 
they begin to depend upon authority.

(#72;  s. mitchel translation of Tao Te Ching)

and another take on #38, but from a different translation
(translation by Gia-fu Feng and Jane English)

"A truly good man is not aware of his goodness
And is therefore good
A foolish man tries to be good
And is therefore not good"

Stunt Double

Check me out in Stargate... hahahaha
Thanks to the guys in Katagory 5 for pointing this out...
SO, James Spader... if you are reading this, if you ever need an understudy, you know who to call!

Sauce

So, I've been doing a lot of thinking about sauce.

Isn't it kind of funny that we add strongly flavored substances... sauces... to other prepared foods, in order to alter the flavor of the food?

For instance - chicken nuggets. Why not make the nuggets taste good in the first place, thus making sauce unneccessary?

(FYI - Wendy's chicken nuggets *need* sauce.)

Check this out:
"The word "sauce" is a French word that means a relish to make our food more appetizing.... Because of the lack of refrigeration in the early days of cooking, meat, poultry, fish, and seafood didn't last long. Sauces and gravies were used to mask the flavor of tainted foods." (source: www.whatscookingamerica.net)

mmmm.... Pass the A-1, please.

must read "The Alchemist"

Here are some of my fav excerpts from "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho - click here.

dreams would have no meaning

"It was the pure Language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels through endless time. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than of anything in the world. He had been told by his parents and grandparents that he must fall in love and really know a person before becoming committed. But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language. Because, when you know that language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning."
"... the boy sat there by the well for a long time, remembering that one day in Tarifa the [wind] had brought to him the perfume of that woman, and realizing that he had loved her before he even knew she existed. He knkew that his love for her would enable him to discover every treasure in the world."

- The Alchemist

The dangling carrot

Have you ever noticed that it's human nature to want what you can't have?

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you could free yourself from this paradigm... and just want *what you want*, because it's good, NOT because you can't have it?

What things in your life would you lose interest in? What things would you become more devoted to?

If service is so sanctifying to the soul, why do church leaders cut repenting persons off from opportunities to serve?

Nowhere in scripture does the Lord dictate that repenting persons should be denied the sacrament. It is said that people should not take it unworthily, but there is no quantification of what makes one worthy or unworthy. Furthermore, does it make sense to say that the person who committed a sin, and humbly confessed it, and is making all amends, is less worthy than the bitter, gossiping, envy ridden people who are giving talks in sacrament meeting?

Does this not feel like a ploy of social punishment by modern church leaders?

sunday morning irony

8:59 am this morning, I missed a call. 9:16, I discover this, and return it. It's my ex-wife's number. She picks up, and is quite perturbed, and is yelling at me:
"WE ARE MISSING SACRAMENT MEETING RIGHT NOW BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T BOTHER TO SEND KINLEY'S SHOES BACK WITH HER LAST WEEK!!"

I then find out that they subsequently called my dear mother (who is very sick right now), and somehow the situation ended up that my mom drove the sunday shoes up to my ex's house.

Yep.

So that she could make it to sacrament meeting, dammit.

Now hold on a second here... where was she going? To a meeting at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. WHOSE meeting? WHOSE name did she take upon her at baptism? WHAT is the purpose of going to said meeting?

Oh yeah... to learn about Jesus. To learn to be more like him.

And so in the mean time, tempers run high, people get yelled at, a sick saintly woman is pulled out of bed early, into the extreme cold of a deep winter freeze... and made to deliver shoes. (It should be pointed out that my ex wife owns a perfectly functioning car, and lives approximately 1.7 miles from my mom's house.)

All in the name of making it to sacrament meeting.

The irony is stinky and suffocating.

I don't say this to pick on my ex. She's trying to do what she has been conditioned to think is right. Kudos to her, I guess. Nevertheless... The ironies of sunday morning should not be ignored.

Seriously folks. First things first. Let's first concern ourselves with treating each other like Jesus would. Then let's worry about relatively trivial things like showing up to the neighborhood fashion show... er... I mean, Sacrament meeting.

And bless my Mother's heart.

The Secret

Incubus - Drive video

This song is extremely signficant to me lately. Just had to share.

lately I'm beginning to find...

INCUBUS - Drive

Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can't help but ask myself how much
I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer.
It's driven me before, and it seems to have a vague,
haunting mass appeal.
But lately I'm beginning to find that I
should be the one behind the wheel.

Whatever tomorrow brings,
I'll be there with open arms and open eyes, Yeah
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there..I'll be there.

So, if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive
Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive?

It's driven me before and it seems to be the way
that everyone else gets around.
But lately I'm beginning to find that when
I drive myself my light is found.

Whatever tomorrow brings,
I'll be there with open arms and open eyes, Yeahhh
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there...I'll be there.

Would you choose water over wine....hold the wheel and drive?

Whatever tomorrow brings,
I'll be there with open arms and open eyes, Yeah
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there..I'll be there.

my resolve

I have resolved to live, as best as I can, such that I will have no regrets (or as few as possible) when I die.

Every day there are forks in the road. Some major, some minor. I resolve to choose the path that I feel compelled to take, according to the dictates of my own conscience.

I resolve to eschew making decisions to appease others.

I accept that along the way, I will make mistakes. I will get hurt. All of these will be made in process of making decisions that ring truest to my heart in that hour. The satisfaction of this integrity to self will be a salve which will heal any bruise or cut I sustain during my triumphant journey.

Spiders On Drugs

the origins of artistic creation

Rick Rubin had more interesting things to say...
"I have a theory: what seems in balance to us, wherther aurally or visually, comes from a distant , primal memory of something in nature. When something rings true, its because it harkens back to some truth in the universe. You just know it when it happens. With artists, you can see it happen. A band will be playing and something starts happenng and everyone starts looking at each other in a certain way. Its by no means an exact science. its just a feeling that is."
(Rick Rubin, "What Ive Learned", Jan 2007 Esquire)

burden of the artist

"Making art is a mystical process - a lot of people who are artists don't understand it themselves. Especially the young ones. They feel different, but they don't know what it is. They feel more. Everything hurts. Everything. They're supersensitive. They see things that other people don't see. It can be crippling. For some one like Kurt Cobain, it can kill you."

- Rick Rubin

self portrait Dec 2006

Those of you who know me well will understand how much I loathe being in front of the lens. Periodically a masochistic urge happens upon me to train my own lens upon myself and make a self portrait. Perhaps, for a photographer, self portraiture is the ultimate challenge, the pinacle of our art form. It is one thing to make an image of someone else, and to deem it "expressive", for we really know nothing of what a person's expressions mean save for what we suppose them to be. Self portraiture strips us of all such blissfully ignorant buffers. I know how I felt when the shutter clicked. I know the mutterings of my heart that day. I know the vocabulary of my photographic expression of a subject. On a whim I made this portrait. Please pardon this self indulgent moment; I am extremely happy with this image. The stars of my personal sentiments, the visual vocabulary of photographic expression, all aligned. I'm quite excited to have made a true portrait.

a lover's quarrel

Robert Frost's epitaph: "I had a lover's quarrel with the world."

That sentiment leaves me speechless. It would suffice to say that 2006 has been a year when I have discovered my "lover's quarrel", and started to realize just how long I've been at it.

May 2007 be the year that I decide my epitaph should read, "The world and I kissed and made-up."

Success! (an addendum to "inventor of the year"

That damn drain is finaly clear!

The pagan ceremony, complete with sacrificial guppie offered up to the gods of underworld waterways, at the sacred porcelain altar, proved successful. Or perhaps it was the incantation, the exact wording of which I would rather not repeat (my dear mother reads this blog sometimes). Or perhaps it was the extra potent radiation from my cell phone, which was carrying the electrifying, sultry conversation between myself and a very sexy woman tonight...

At any rate... my sink works again. :-)

my philosophy of aesthetics

I've been thinking a lot lately about aesthetics. What is beautiful, and why? What is grand? Why do sights and sounds of epic nature inspire me so? As long as we are talking about awe inspiring beauty, this image is, for me, my highest creative achievement to date. This image possesses a quality that is transcendent. I cannot view it without being deeply moved.

In C.S. Lewis's great discourse, "The Weight Of Glory", he discusses the phonemon of experiencing beauty, of longing. I think of the things in life that are truly transcendent... the things that cause your soul to quake...

"In speaking of this desire for our own far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you – the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence; the secret also which pierces with such sweetness that when, in very intimate conversation, the mention of it becomes imminent, we grow awkward and affect to laugh at ourselves; the secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers and the mention of a name. Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter.

These things - the beauty, the memory of our own past... they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."

I feel to side with Lewis and reverberate my personal feeling that those things of the most profound beauty - wether it be the magical music of the laugh of your own child, the envigorating scent of spring, the cosmic event of meeting and falling in love with your soul mate, the poetic female form, the majestic roar of the guitar, a photograph that captures a rare glimpse into the windows of the soul, the life giving art of a perfectly orchestrated flavors... all these are to me, the "scent", the "echo", the "news" of a place I have not been, yet seem to understand.

Inventor of the Year

So.... I live in this funky little basement apartment. Part of the "charm" of older places apparently is the "personality" that the plumbing exhibits. My plumbing does not just have a personality disorder, it is my sworn mortal enemy.

So, about every 4 weeks, the shower drain decides to go on strike. A little liquid plumber, and all is well. The toilet has a very sophisticated palate, apparently, because depending on what I put in it.... it refuses to let it go down. Reminds me of an 18 month old child being fed squash. Charming. The bathroom sink is actually very well behaved. In my 10 months here, it's drain has gone on haitus only one time. Gosh, I love that sink.

This brings me to the kitchen sink. I have yet to decipher it's schedule of protests, but I'm pretty sure it has to do with the alignment of Mars with one of the stars near the center of Orion. Either that or it is God's way of punnishing me. At any rate... it's hopelessly clogged.

I've gone through a few gallons of liquid plumber, drano, and other related products. I've plunged it for longer than I'd like to admit. NOTHING. After a final session of liquid plumber and plunger love, to no avail, I decided to vist Wal Mart in search for something better. It dawned on me what I was dealing with. Wussy drain openers. Not until I have been faced with unclogging the Bowels of Satan, did I realize what I've been reading on the packaging of these pansy products:

"Safe on all pipes!"
"Safe on septic systems!"
"Safe on all sink surfaces!"
"Safe in most beverages!"
"Great on Chicken or Fish!"
"Whitens teeth!"
"For ages 3 - 6 yrs"
"Wouldn't hurt a fly!"

NO! I need something better! I need a pint of nuke. Liquid hate. I need the most dangerous chemicals known to man. I'm trying to destroy something, not be "safe". I need the very blood of beelzebub in a bottle. I want something so dangerous, so caustic, that if I even look at the bottle too long, I'll go blind. I want something that will make hellish screaming sounds as it oozes it's way into the drain, toward my arch enemy. I want to be ID'ed at the register to buy this stuff... maybe even a quick background check. I want something so God-awful, that environmentalists will stage protests in the front yard in an attempt to keep me from using it.

If I ever get this drain fixed, I'm going to invent and market this stuff. And nowhere on the bottle will you find the word "safe".

Oh, and stay tuned for more on my double plunger technique... wish me luck!

"the middle children of history"

"Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."

- Tyler Durden in "Fight Club"

Makelle says the darndest things.

"I'm a really cute girl. I'm prettier than almost all the other little girls"
(laughing, I ask - ), "Yes Makelle, you are very pretty. Who told you that?"
"My mom".

"I miss my mom. And I miss you too. I wish you could live at my house all the time. But you can't, 'cause you guys aren't married anymore."

This one kills me... it really tears me up. Periodically Makelle will talk about this juxtaposition of missing me, and missing Mireesa, and the frustration of knowing she cannot have both longings solved. But bless her little angellic heart, for every time I see her, at least 4 times, I hear some of the most beautiful words on earth:

"Daddy, I love you. I miss you Daddy."

My upcomming sex change

* * * * I've buried this post way down in the midst of some old posts.... I actually wrote this in 2008, I wrote this from a very real place. I realize that this will be very difficult for a lot of people to read... many of whom are people I love very much. I don't want to offend, necessarily, but I also won't back down from stating the truth as I see it. Thus, I've placed this far from the top of the blog. I figure if you've found this post, you *really* want to know what's up with me... and so... kind of like the 'prize' in the cereal box you've been digging for.... you've found it. * * * *

It turns out that my penis has created this really disadvantageous situation where I've got to actually earn my way back into heaven... unlike those of you who've been blessed to have boobs and ovaries.

Hold on one second... I'm about to talk frankly about something that happens in the LDS Temple. I believe that any organization that demands at least 10% of your income and countless hours of service for at least 1 year, as a prerequisite for temple attendance, is morally obligated to actually tell you what you are getting in to. Would you ever do business with a company who would not fully disclose the terms of a financial agreement with you? If you are bothered by openness and honesty about spiritual practices, you should stop reading right now.

Here's the deal. When you go to the temple, there is an initial ceremony, aptly called "initiatory". Many of the temple ceremonies are administered differently to men vs. women, this being one of them. Here's the short of it. You are symbolically washed (extremely similar to a catholic baptism), and a blessing is pronounced on you.... this blessing differs according to your gender. Here's the key difference between them:

Women are told : "your sins are forgiven and you are clean every whit."

..and the men are told: " that you may become clean from the blood and sins of this generation"

These ceremonies are notable on several levels, but for now, it will suffice to illustrate the conditional nature of being cleansed for men vs. the de facto free ticket to exaltation given to women.

Is it any wonder that the temple is so much more popular with "the sisters" than it is with "the brethren"?

I know that many of you are extremely offended now, many of you think I'm just being snarky. I'm not. If this REALLY is the way God intended it... I'll be honest, I'm mad at God! This ludicrous!!! Why should I get the short end of the deal, just because the sperm that happened to fertilize my mother's ova happened to be packing around a Y chromosome?

What the hell?

Listen folks... if there really is a God in heaven... he truly does treat us all equally.

THAT,

I

KNOW.

our darkest secrets at 120 decibels

I've been able to photograph some really cool bands lately. I don't know about you, but attending a great concert elicits many responses from me... I really started to tune into the visceral experience of a great rock show. "rock stars" are often the spokesmen of the things we all know but are too afraid to say. It's wonderfully cathartic (albiet vicariously) experience a handful of musicians stand on a stage, and declare at 120 decibels, the pains, angers, sorrows, joys, fears, and triumphs of modern man. It's good for the soul.
Here are images from the recent 30 Seconds to Mars show:

Giving 100% in life

I stumbled upon this gem of wisdom tonight... I just had to share:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This is a strictly mathematical viewpoint...it goes like this:

What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?

Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these questions:

If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.

Then:
H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%

and

K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%

But,

A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

And,

B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%

AND, look how far ass kissing will take you.

A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
1+19+19+11+9+19+19+9+14+7 = 118%

So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Ass kissing that will put you over the top.

Credit: Trevor Somers, mybackalley.com

The Three Nephites

If the term "the 3 nephites" doesn't mean anything to you, no worries. Just bask in the glory of Geddy Lee's magnificent bass tone.... Here they are folks. Little known fact, that the 3 Nephites are currently carrying out thier earthly ministry as a very popular progressive rock band from Canada. Watch them bless the massess...
Posted By:sean andrews

Get this video and more at MySpace.com

I love things that explode

There were no human passengers on this... so it's cool. It would have kicked so much ass to see this in person...

Crazy Explosion

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my eyes have been opened

It's funny what people choose to do for full time jobs, isn't it?

And what's even funnier is how outrageous some people become when veiled by annonymity. People say the darndest things when they don't have to own up to it...

And one other topic that I'll give more in depth treatment to later... but I've just got to say - there are some things that I really hate about being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. There is this cultural thing going on where people who are LDS get slapped with a whole suite of assumptions.... most of them having to do with matters of righteousness. Moving to Salt Lake City has been a huge eye opener for me. Nobody seems to want to allow LDS folks to be imperfect. Members of the church certainly don't allow for anyone to be imperfect. There is a tremendous guilt and shame mechanism that the culture keeps in motion, which, seems really destructive. And non-members, well, there seems to be a common idea out there that if an LDS person does something wrong, they are a hypocrite, liar, bad person, etc etc etc. I heard a story the other day, recounted by a non-LDS person, describing the raucous and riotous behavior of one LDS person on a saturday night... they were disgusted that the said person would have the nerve to go to church the next morning.

HUH???

What??

Excuse me???

(actually, I've heard this dialogue by many an LDS person, too... ludicrous! )
What would YOU suggest they do? NOT go to church? As far as I can tell, church is a place for people to go and try to learn ways to be a better person. Last time I checked, there was no "righetousness requirement" for walking in those doors on Sunday morning. Quite the opposite. It's a place for sinners to go and be inspired to do a little better the next week. And mind you, we are ALL sinners. Horrible sinners. Each of us have a suite of sins that are unique, near, and dear to us. And nobody's collection is the same. He who is without sin, cast the first stone...

And so, I just need to say, Yes, I belong to that church. And hear me now: I'm not perfect. And please don't sit around holding your breath wating for me to become perfect. It's going to be a long, long time before I'm what people would call a "really good person". Please dont' be shocked when I fail to live up to the example of Jesus. I'm not him. I just try (although mostly failingly) to follow him.

But, in the mean time, I'm going to give it the good fight, and do my best to make the most of what I've got. It's going to be a long tale of successes and failures. But what else could be expected? After all, the Lord did make it very clear during his earthly ministry, that in His eyes, our progress is not measured in absolutes - it's not how far you travel, it's how much you make of what you've been given, be it large or small.

I don't know where they get it from

I think they get it from thier mother. :-)

Here are some photos from my most recent visit to see my girls. I just had to share these. Here is the background... we carved pumpkins. We played "mall madness" (an insane board game - a shopping mall board game... bored game... game of boring stuff...) And for an hour, while I got sucked into another terrific episode of "Myth Busters" (I think it might be the new red headed girl they have on the show... she's almost as much fun as the copious explosions, rockets, and other concoctions). But I digress. I let Makinley and Makelle play with my camera for a while... and this is what they came up with. Click on the images below and you can see the whole gallery. All but the first few shots were done by makinley or makelle. Some are self portraits... I think you'll be able to pick them out. Man, I love those girls! These images are priceless.... more than worth the risk of them breaking my camera.

"If you're going to try..."

"If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs. And maybe your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery, isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance. Of how much you really want to do it. And you'll do it, despite rejection in the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods. And the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is."

-Charles Bukowski

Nick Schmitroth

In memory of my friend, client, and subject, Nick... who, upon the discovery of his stage IV melanoma, scurried with his soul mate and fiance, Tai, to move thier wedding up from a summer wedding, to an early spring wedding. Nick and Tai realized that his days were numbered, and wanted to spend the rest of them as a married couple. Luckily time was on their side and they were able to enjoy 6 months of married life together before his struggle ended.
Tai and Nick are both blind. One of Nick's passions was helping other visually impaired people to become more independent through education and training in braile, cane use, etc. Some poingant words were spoken at his funeral. Those thoughts brought a certain Rush lyric to mind, and inspired some additional thoughts on the matter:

“For you the blind
who once could see –
the bell tolls for the..”
but come sweet death,
make sight free.

Brilliant suns no more do set
Majesty of night ever present
Sight on wings of spirit
Do you pity me?
for my horizons numbered in miles?

Cruel World Movie Trailer

Hey everyone - Here is the trailer to the new movie "Cruel World", Starring Edward Furlong and Jamie Presley. The soundtrack to the movie was done by a member of my BurnLounge team, Richie Stites - both with his band "The Circle" and in collaboration with many well known artists. We will be running an exclusive release of the soundtrack on Burnlounge very soon.

Robert Randolph and the Family Band

Okay. These guys are doing the Lord's work playing this music. WOW... gotta check it out.


Posted By:Robert Randolph

Get this video and more at MySpace.com

Occupational Hazzards

This is the kind of thing I had to deal with at work last night.

the glass waiting room

Yesterday I met my mom and dad at the state prison in Draper to pick up my brother, who was being released on parole. In some ways, the experience was quite unremarkable. It was unceremonious, it was brief, and devoid of drama or decorum.

The waiting room at the prison is interesting... it is mostly comprised of glass. walls. It is probably the only structure on the premises that does not depend almost entirely on artificial light for illumination. How fitting it is that the final exit from the prison is made of windows to the outside world.

I wondered what that that experience is like for the inmate - to emerge from the concrete and steel of self imposed captivity, to the fresh air, big skies, and open road of state-granted freedom.

One of the first things my brother wanted to do was go to the store and buy a coke. He remarked that it has been a few years since he was able to enjoy such a simple pleasure. His excitement for this simple act was humbling.

His pending appointment with his parole officer made our reunion extremely breif. We discussed some weightier matters, and I soon got a sense of the shape of his newfound freedom.

I fear that his vision has been made as short reaching as his old cell wall.

Ultimately, our freedom is only as far reaching as we perceive it to exist.

Where are the boundaries of your freedom?

Trailer Park Boys - The Movie

I'm pretty sure that this new movie will be inducted into my personal hall of fame:

http://www.tpbmovie.com/

I have the coolest job in the world

Aside from the great fun of making photographs, I love interacting with my subjects / clients. I had a great shoot today with a gentleman whose father is, and is himself, a rather prominent LDS public figure. He's been through divorce, his family life has been full of tragedy and triumph. He's had the good fortune of becoming friends with and spending time with several of the Quorum of the 12. Rather than recite all of the anecdotes, I'll sum it up with a quote from The Prophet Josepht Smith:

"Our heavenly Father is more liberal in His views, and boundless in His mercies and blessings, than we are ready to believe or receive. . . . God does not look on sin with [the least degree of] allowance, but . . . the nearer we get to our heavenly Father, the more we are disposed to look with compassion on perishing souls; we feel that we want to take them upon our shoulders, and cast their sins behind our backs." (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith (1976), 257, 240–41)

For whatever reason, I just wanted to make a semi-public declaration of grattitude for the goodness of life.

Entrepreneurship and Marriage

I recently read a review of the book “If At First You Don’t Succeed”, by Brent Bowers. It was a summation of research he has done in an effort to distill the traits of entrepreneurs into something we can wrap our brains around. He came up with 8 characteristics that are nearly universal among entrepreneurs:

8 Traits of successful entrepreneurs:

1. Seizing opportunities
2. Running your own show
3. Innovative behavior since childhood
4. Turning on a dime
5. Tenacity
6. Self confidence bordering on delusions of grandeur
7. Pragmatism
8. A knack for “falling upward”.

After I read the list and contemplated on the implications of such qualities, I realized that these are qualities I would like in my future spouse as well. Marriage is, after all, only slightly less prone to failure than a new business, and infinitely more important to have success in.

Panic Channel ROCKS

Dave Navarro of The Panic Channel, photo by Paul Duane

Hey folks.... for those of you with a penchant for clear, soaring vocals, atmospheric guitar riffage, earnest songwriting, all done by guys who financed the project on their own dime... ie, HONEST rock and roll.... you must check out The Panic Channel. Here is an unreleased single (and in my opinion, thier best song):
"Go on" (click here to listen / download it)

I'm pretty sure I have the coolest life in the world...

Ever have those moments, where you find yourself thinking, "wow... I doubt that anyone has it better than me. God is GOOD, and apparently, he's feeling saucy with me today".

I had a few days like that. Like the past few days... I was hired by not just any client, but one of my very favorite clients to photograph some performances at the Park City Jazz Festival (Not only are they cool people, but I *love* thier business and product... Cannonball Music)

Backstage with *THE* Marcus Miller, at the Park City Jazz Festival.

Okay, so I guess this will be my "Thankimony"... it being the sabbbath, and all...
Some cool things have started to come together this week. It's been a week of the right people saying the right things at the right time to me, which has helped me make some very good decisions this week. A very big thank you goes out to Gina, in particular, for a much needed wake up call. She saved my bacon in a very profound way this week.

There is much distance to traverse before I'm "out of the woods", but I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I think the only thing I know how to do these days is to hold onto the vision of things as they will be, follow the promptings of my heart, and just hold on really tight for the ride.

Tight as hell.

Somehow, this stuff always works.

God is good.

Evil will always win, because GOOD is DUMB

I love star wars humor. Specifically, I love Darth Vader humor.

Check this stuff out:

"Chad Vader - episode I"

"Chad Vader" is the runt brother, and less famous brother, of "Darth".

"Chad Vader - episode II"




The Emporer gets a phone call....
http://www.digyourowngrave.com/emperor-palpatine-gets-a-phone-call-about-the-death-star/

Alpha & Omega: fan of early punk / glam rock

8/19/2006 3:14 AM

I just finished watching “New York Doll”, the story of Arthur “Killer” Kane, bass player for the pioneering rock band, the New York Dolls.

God is good. That’s about all I have to say after watching this film. There’s not much else to say, or much of any importance, anyway.

And so… on with some unimportant rambling.

Rock and Roll is catharsis for the common man. It is a declaration, a complaint, and often a celebration. Some may call it the devil’s music… but I think God really has the corner on this market. After all, God put in us what becomes rock and roll.

It is modern man’s treatise against the earth… one that he hopes the heavens will overhear. Rock and roll’s chief implement, The venerated electric guitar, has been endowed with the all of the voices of the human experience.

Lullabies gently float from it’s strings and put little ones to sleep.

It cries the blues with us.

Majestic celebrations are declared in electrifying, clear, singing tones.

Soul rending anguish bellows forth, the amplifier becoming one’s only friend that can truly voice the fury, pain, and confusion that so often we mortals are called upon to endure.

The ubiquitous power chord, the open 5^th, is a wonderful metaphor. Lacking the defining 3^rd of a simple triad chord, it is neither major nor minor.

It is intense.

It is awake.

It is that space between fight and flight.

It is a place that those who live life fully and deliberately know all to well. To those with honest and perceptive hearts, so much of life is like the open 5^th power chord – it is big, it is powerful, it could be glorious and triumphant, or it could be tragic and failing. And often both.

I do love rock and its prophets.

integrity to heart and identity

I've found myself in an interesting spot... between mind-bending, ligament-warping uphill ascents, as it were. I've found myself taking pause and inventory.

My dear friend Dave gave me a jewel of wisdom during a very difficult time.

Dave was patiently listening to me spew the raw sewage of my freshly injured heart and mind. I was contemplating various courses of action, most of which were reactionary in nature.

(paraphrasing) "You have to decide what kind of person you want to be, and just be that. You've got to have personal integrity to what you are all about, regardless of how anyone accepts it, rejects it, or other wise reacts to it. "

Dave was probably the only person at that time who could issue such a soft spoken, yet heart-stoppingly bold challenge to me: In my time of most dire hurt, when my whole world seemed to be crashing down around me -

• To resist the urge to react.
• To become deaf to the coaching of my well intentioned loved ones.
• To focus solely on my personal identity - my value system.
• To act in harmony with my personal values, regardless of the cost to my heart and pride.

I don't say this to brag, but only to thank, and to pass along some good wisdom...

Some how, it all worked. Brilliantly.

With the help of some strategically placed friends, placed, it seems, by a loving Father in Heaven...

Changes of heart came, as answers to prayers that I didn't even have the energy to pray...

In some very miraculous way, this week, clarity arrived, and with not a second to spare. I can now see how the trail behind me lead to this excelent vista.

I suppose the reason I am writing about this is to make a public testimony that when you stay focused on the things that you know to be true, the things that only you know in your heart... beautiful outcomes are inevitable.

Thank you, Dave.