Thursday, July 1, 2010


We are fucking particles. A collective feast. The magic we made is a portrait, not technology, it's a portrait. Some things never change. Try finding a bathroom in Hollywood. Scoring mercy on La Brea. Opening inspiration in the Valley. After longer than expected, I've seen them all, outliers. With any luck, so are we, along with particles. Along with a ride in a van. A conversation in a cafe. Hangover on the bus. The days blend into one. The way our bodies twist and turn together is the exciting part. The unsuspecting moments where friends discover liveliness turns the colors worthwhile. Underwater is good. So is that old-fashioned unconditional love. How lucky to be so loved. How lucky for the feelings to be normal, assumed, granted. It's valuable to take notice. My gratitude lights up the sky. A moment of reverence is fine too. In fact it's more honest than a metaphor in this case. Breathe in the gratitude. Let it go, carry it somewhere with the rest of the invisible. Life goes on, you've got life to live, precious life, so subtle sometimes.