Archive for the 'People' Category
The past few posts have been rather heavy, so I figured I’d lighten things up a tad by welcoming you to my bedroom door. It isn’t a particularly special door other than the fact that behind it lies the most comfortable bed ever created. Queen. Pillow top. You know, the good stuff. That whole movement that says that stiffer beds are better for your back is wrong, by the way - my back feels phenomenal, and so does the rest of me. But that’s besides the point, this post is about my door, not my bed. The door itself is made of some heavy duty steel, probably the heaviest duty steel i’ve seen on a door save for that of a bank vault. But, unlike a bank vault, my bedroom door has no lock. I’m not sure why that is, but my roommate and I have come to a mutual understanding that when the door is closed, you always knock first before entering - and that’s a good thing for reasons I won’t get into here (think sock). All joking aside, this door means business. It shuts with authority and opens with valor, exemplifying human virtues I only wish I could emulate. And when I try and fail, my door laughs at me and kicks me in the shins and punches me in the head… usually at around 3 in the morning when I’m either too drunk or tired to acknowledge its presence - vindictive piece of crap door.
I love it nonetheless though, for it always brings me home. When I’ve had a shitty day and all I want is to be in my room and to get lost in a book or my bed, my door is the one who takes me there. And when I’m down on the ground and can barely muster the energy to open it, I can rest assured knowing that it will never lock me out, because it can’t. Like a beacon of light it guides me true, and I will open its passage home until I move elsewhere or am evicted. I love you door.
Creative name, I know. This shot is from a while ago - the composition is sort of poor, but I like it for some reason. I think because this is usually how I look when I’m trying to figure out what to shoot. I do smile, but only once I’ve figured it out. 
Next, for fear of my roommate killing me, I must say here that it is him who took this shot with his Canon XTI. I did the post processing because he had no idea what he was doing with the white balance. That being said, I suppose he’s a pretty ok photographer (sorry buddy that’s all the credit I can give 
). You can find his work here.
Since it was pouring and there was a tornado warning outside today I figured I’d get a little creative indoors… DISCLAIMER, this gets a bit deep.
Divided Memories
Memories have their way of trickling into our dreams when we least expect them, slowly transforming our interpretation of reality. The bad ones sometimes serve as warnings of the past about to manifest in the present, while at other times they serve only to torment our every thought with no tangible purpose whatsoever. But the memories we cherish most are as much in our hearts as they are in our minds, for without the heart a memory is nothing more than a remembrance of what was with no impact on what is. The heart is what allows us to transcend the fleeting moments of life and carefully sew the frayed threads together into the very fabric of who we are. A fabric which, although far from perfect upon close inspection, is the only thing we have that makes us all unique… the only thing that makes us all human.
This fabric is ever changing and ever lasting, continuously torn, divided, and sewn back together by the hard-won lessons of life’s less pleasurable, but oh so necessary experiences. A conglomerate of dos and don’ts, should haves and could haves. Those who spend their lives dwelling on these things will become prisoners of their own shortcomings, brooding incessantly about the human condition. But those who give these imperfections no more power than they deserve, and use them only to improve their craft, will create a life whose potential for greatness is limited only by the number of threads left in their time on this earth. And even when they are gone, their souls will be sewn into the fabric of generations to come, repeating the cycle that is and always will be, life.
