Pittsburgh at Night ~ Exhibit

Pittsburgh at Night Photography
Saturday February 1 ~ Artist reception 6pm -9pm
Boulevard Gallery 736 Allegheny River Boulevard,
Verona PA 15147



Current Reading: Hesitation Marks by Nine Inch Nails
Current Music: The Devil and Miss Prym by Paulo Coelho
Mood: Good
Smells: Tomatoes
Sounds: Water
Temperature: 62 degrees
Thoughts: Late night conversation are good.


Photo of the Week

Photo of the week, this week its 9/11....never forget....always remember that prayer works.


Photo Exhibit

Here is the info for my next photo exhibits..... 
Pittsburgh at Night Photography 
Saturday February 1 ~ Artist reception
6pm -9pm
Boulevard Gallery
736 Allegheny RIver Boulevard, Verona PA 15147


Reincarnated Me ~ Short Story ~ Part 2

You can read part 1 (here)

My life has become a true-metaphor. It may be nonsensical yet literally it is meaningful for me to share this story with you. At this point you must re-apply more sunblock before reading further on and I told you to watch out for the spiders.

This would be a good time to fill you in on my backstory of how this all began.  But I will not.  Just know this: there is no normal.

The typewriter calls out to me, my back aches for the sofa. I place my hands of the keys and then it happens, again.

: I listen past the silence.  The din slowly fades away.
: For 40 days I did nothing but listen past the silence.
: "Do not trust angels", this is whispered in my ear.
: 40 days of sitting still in the ever-present silence, this is what arises:
: The Bodhi tree grows from sprout to full blossom to death.
: The ark is built then sailed then abandoned...I watch the ark decay back into the soil.
: 40 days of desert, 40 days of the devil...it's always 40 days.
: "Do not trust angels for they created you", this is whispered in my ear.
: Satan becomes a creator, society names him God.
: The serpent in the garden of Eden was not the devil tempting mankind, it was Jesus the Christ showing us that we have been duped by Satan and that we are now separated from that which created us. 
: The location of the Garden of Eden is in Bellevue Heights in Australia. Google it.
: "Do not trust the Australians", this is whispered in my ear. 
: Angels always have one wing dipped in blood. Nothing good ever happens when they whisper in your ear.
: Life of poverty, life of service, life of strapping a bomb to your chest. This is all due to Angels.
: Do not listen to Angles.
: Truth or fact, which quality outshines the other? You need at least two drinks before this question gets interesting. 
: Truth or fact, which quality outlasts the other? This is the question worth answering.

: The reincarnated me rides past me, still on the back of a horse.
: Reincarnated me yells out “Your heart burns like fire but your eyes are cold as dead ashes.”
: Current-self-embodiment answers, “Ok, ride on apocalyptic-boy, your type of crazy is not needed here."
: “40 more days to go, always think twice before answering me”, reincarnated me yells back at me from atop his horse.

: I listen past the silence to hear my original voice.
: That is love and I’ll be here till the end of time. 

I look down at my finger tips and they are bloody.  I go into the bathroom  and place three squirts of anti-bacterial soap on my tooth brush and place it in my mouth.  24 brush strokes on top and 19 brush strokes on the bottom.  I spit out the bitter soap-goo into my hand then wash my finger tips clean with this concoction of saliva and soap.  My fingers burn.  A billy-goat sits on the toilet smoking a Marlboro cigarette wearing a Boston Celtics t-shirt. He saying something in Spanish as I walk away.


Reincarnated Me ~ Short Story

What follows is a true story for those of you who believe in metaphors.

Beware: before reading this it is recommended to wear sunblock that is SPF 30 or above and also watch out for spiders.

I can not believe that this is happening to me. Again.  All I want to do is lie on the sofa.

I just want writer’s block but the words won’t stop coming. This typewriter that sits in this empty room calls out to me.  If I could only stop these words than I could lay down on that sofa and sleep.

I get up and walk over to this old typewriter.  The keys are white circles with black letters.  The striking hammers make this god-awful sound as it pushed the letter into the paper. The body of this typewriter is made out of wood; it must have been hand-carved, I’m guessing, in the late 1800’s. I place my hands on the keys. I take three deep breaths.  Then it happens….

: "There was no big bang, only witnesses changing the channel." This is whispered in my ear. 
: In an ecstasy of an odyssey a fantasy for all to see.
: In the beginning we all fell to our knees with prayers of hoping to believe.
: In the end we killed each other for our own self-fulfilling greed.

: As for me, I watch myself be reincarnated in front of my own eyes. My soul is ripped out of my body and turned into a giant supernova in the sky. Then explodes into a thousand tiny white butterflies that forms into a body-like figure.  Next it turns into a cocoon then breaks free into the reincarnated-me.
: “You want to know what the sound of one hand clapping is?” the reincarnated-me asks me?
: "It is the reincarnated-self slapping the current-embodiment-of-you right in the face." He says.
: Bam, slapped right in the kisser.  
: Finally, an existential truth that I can understand.
: "You must know the ego before you can kill the ego. Reject all forms of transformation, self included." This is whispered in my ear.
:“How many times are we going to have to go through this?” The reincarnated-me asks? 
: The reincarnated me says to the current-embodiment-self, “Do you want to see the end of the world?”
: The current-embodiment-self (me) replies, “No.” “Too bad.”, reincarnated me answers.
: With his left hand he touches the ground, with his right hand he reaches up into the sky and parts the clouds, then proceeds to pull down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. The reincarnated me jumps up on a white horse screaming something in Spanish as he rides away.

: "Evolution is for losers, creation is for dreamers." This is whispered in my ear.

: As for me, currently I live in the ever-present now.  Sometimes I leave it to visit the future but it's never as good as you would think.

Bourbon, I need bourbon. I get up form my desk and walk into the kitchen.  I grab a small clear glass off the countertop, three ice cubes into the glass and four ounces of bourbon. I sniff my drink, I look deep into the colors and swirl the liquid around and then drink it straight down.  Back to my desk, the typewriter awaits.  I place my hands on the keys….



Current Reading: Springsteen on Springsteen by Jeff Burger 
Current Music: Ella & Oscar
Mood: Headache, foggy, happy
Smells: Coffee
Sounds: Soft hum coign out of the back of my computer.
Temperature: 63 degrees
Thoughts: Getting ready to go back out into the cosmos to sprinkle blessing down on the pre-approved.