Living in Frames, by meshing the lyrical moments of life with the captured images of experience. This is a reverie, a journey, the fork in the road, and the never-ending story....

Monday, November 26, 2012

Some ghosts have a lot to say about real things:


Tuesday, November 20, 2012

I’m thankful for my health, and for how far modern medicine has come to help some of my loved ones this year. For my safety and the safety of others, in this ever-changing world. For being able to keep my head above water, when there are those who are facing tougher times. For the beauty all around us; the kind that makes us stop and look and know the feeling of bliss. For the reminders that tell us we aren’t alone in this life. The laughter around the corner. The joy yet to come. How this day smells different than the day before, and how tomorrow I will be looking for another—scent, taste, sound, and sight—to appreciate. That there exist these things called mountains and trees, rivers and oceans—that I know different names to call them, and that there are words I still have time to learn. I’m thankful for my last year of my twenties; how far I have come, and how much more confidence I have gained, as I embrace womanhood. I’m thankful to know love and to be loved. The gift of life, and having been born out of the purest kind of love. I’m thankful for loss, because it has strengthened me, and because it has shown me to never take anyone or anything for granted. For my friends, new and old. I’m thankful for the simpliest of things, like: Willie Nelson’s music and the crescent moon. How the salt water tastes different here, and how bare feet sink into cold sand. The sound the shutter makes in a camera, and how light moves in mysterious ways. For coffee-talk and philosophy-talk. For things that are green, like me. For my belief in God. For my belief in Man. I’m thankful for my hopes and my dreams. I’m thankful for having something to say, but I’m also thankful for the moments when I don’t; when I can just listen. I’m thankful that I don’t have all the answers—that I’m curious enough to go looking—that I’m not afraid if I never find them. Happy enough to keep sharing. I’m thankful for “what is”. I’m thankful of the possibility of something more.

Bottom line: I want to be thankful, always.

Monday, November 5, 2012


It was one of those nights, living in the heat of the the moment, a mixed pinata of emotions ready to burst out of me---swinging, swinging, swinging with the pendulum of time. I had accomplished a goal--a big one--but I was both elated and sad, as I stared out the steamy car windows and took long drags from my cigarette. I could already see this city behind me in the rearview, I was blue thinking about when the day will soon come.
Art by Teun Hocks
"It's like jazz," you say. "Always chasing 'it' with your own interpretations." It made a lot sense why I still didn't feel fulfilled, even after coming so far.
There is something rather absurd about art, and I guess life too. It's hard to imagine that no matter what you accomplish, we will all eventually meet the same fate and there is the possibility that there is "nothing" at the other end.
Are we rushing to get it all in? Or are we rushing towards a larger emptiness?