SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

I was invited to a Halloween Party and decided not to go. What if all choices were predicated upon qualifying for a beautiful companion. On the bright side, we chose to face the window rather than having the light at our back.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

Julez expresses his views on people who enjoy hot tubs, and/or taking baths.

SHELTER COVE, CALIFORNIA

BLACK DOG ON THE LOST COAST // Canon EOS 5D Mark IV. EF24-70mm ƒ4L IS USM. ISO 100. 24 mm. 0 ev. ƒ7.1. 1/125 s.

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We drove from San Francisco to Shelter Cove to see if we wanted to move there. I experienced physiological manifestations of mental illness in the form of elevated heart rate and shortness of breath. This photograph was taken after I had successfully beaten those symptoms into submission by running through the forest and the whole town with Ramona. We saw a bear shit and I felt better and Ramona had lots of fun running behind me formed up like a wolf. She got tired eventually and we went back to where we were staying to drink some water and we drove the truck back down to the beach so I could take a swim.

While we were in Shelter Cove a man at the general store told me how his bobcat broke and his portable milling business was on hold. A lady told me that the seaside air cured her asthma and that you should never go swimming here or you will die and I said don’t worry I’m a professional and the ocean is the least of my problems which she did not like but it’s true and swimming in the ocean was a brilliant part of our stay.

There was an airstrip, a house by the beach road with drawn curtains and “fuck rik” painted on the outside of the window. There was small fish processing station. There was a man who had an artistic garden and chickens who I complimented. There was lots of boats, some broken, some not, one with a statue of a shark driving it through someone’s front lawn.

The way the coastal range, covered in dark green forest slants into the grey rocks of the beach is quite magnificent. I could live there, but right now I don’t want to leave where I am. I feel that I’m being uprooted by force and cast to the wind. I hear the voices of people that scorn me for having these feelings, and thinking these thoughts. I am a failure, and an embarrassment and now I have the audacity to write about it.

I am writing into the void though dumbass. And the standards at which these accusations are rendered are not my own, any more than I am anything more or less than some mysterious, happenstance confluence of matter and energy. Now, finally the radio broadcasts, which pleases God. Does God desire an editor. I suspect so, but trust that position will be filled at the appropriate time and plac.e

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

This journal is a record and you record what you record, which creates a pathway. I like reptiles and snakes. Furthermore I would like to live a good life and be a source of positivity so I tried to steer the sailboat more in that direction here.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

I remember that I thought the summer light in the room was pleasant and I should use the camera instrument. You can’t justify yourself in the name of art or psychology. There was a forest witch named Franky who made the movie Aquaman and people all over the world pay extra for the privilege of drinking coffee in front of strangers.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

KITCHEN THAT LOOKS LIKE A SPACESHIP PHOTOGRAPHED WITH POOR UNDERSTANDING OF LIGHT AND FOCUS // Canon EOS 5D Mark IV.    EF24-70mm ƒ4L IS USM.    ISO 1600.    24 mm.    0 ev.    ƒ4.5.   1/800 s.

BEDROOM ON A NORMAL DAY ON THE EVE OF A STRANGE PERIOD IN LIFE //  EOS 5D Mark IV.    EF24-70mm ƒ4L IS USM.    ISO 6400.     24 mm.    0 ev.    ƒ4.5.     1/800 s.

A WELL EXECUTED PHOTOGRAPH OF RAMONA RESTING  //  EOS 5D Mark IV.    EF24-70mm ƒ4L IS USM.    ISO 6400.    24 mm.      0 0 ev.    ƒ4.5.    1/800 s.

This was a time in life wherein I was stuck between worlds. I wanted to finish art projects but felt there was not enough time to do so. The house was relatively organized. The dog was healthy. The plants were healthy. I was not. I smoked cigarettes. I felt as if something was always somehow missing, and that whatever I did was never enough. There was a constant feeling of time running out and the world closing in around us. And yet the photographs are so still and quiet. Was it the loneliness that was getting us down, or rather, the feeling of being cloistered and constrained by signing up for agreements subconsciously that could never be fulfilled?