Sitting here.

Sitting here. It's ever so rare that I don't care. I wonder if they notice. But I'm sure they do not. They look but don't see. I want to prove I am like them. But the truth doesn't help those who don't need it. It's a pretty day and cars are driving by with leaves going calmly. I'm seeing many things I once needed but don't anymore. Still it makes me wonder. I truly think I will be forever sitting here.

Just Me Again. and small stuff.

The whole thing, it made me smile. It makes you a part of something open and safe. A belonging that which is real. I now know how they feel. Then they softly drop me into reality. Where I begin to cry, discovering what I had forgotten. Once again. Only this time worse, since every verse is rewritten but with sorrow in every note making me weary and teary eyed. I know it's me. Again.


It's impossible to stay here everyone expecting the unexpectable. He was sitting there, he heard. Heard what she had to say, needed to say. Especially he knew what she was thinking as she stood on that linoleum floor waiting for it to be her turn.


Lately I've been sitting, thinking. What is it? What is it that is right? At the time, it all felt true. Now it's different, a nightmare. Was it make believe? No one much believed me. I could've swore it all occured. But, so long ago, seems as if it were all my screwed imagination. My imagination. With all of it's false contents of things illogical.


Your a doll. A plastic Ken, trapped in a box. Afraid of yourself. Unable to breathe. Your friends "watching" your every move. Don't worry. They won't leave. Will they? You guys have trust. Don't you? Barbie loves you. Or... maybe your stuff? What you got. Your box keeps you alive. There are millions just like you. Fake and handsome.


Don't you see he was just like him? Didn't you see the look in his eyes? The tenseness he held? Don't you care? My eyes were welled with water. Finally I seem unselfish of my thoughts. My mind, seeing you do this to everyone. Now I know, why I am, how I am. Your anger, my carelessness. Your memory, my remembrance. Why don't you see it was just like him? Why didn't you see the look in his eyes? The tenseness he held? Why don't you care?

The Fire Hydrant One Thing Project

This is one of the pictures for my 1 thing project. The pictures would have probably turned out better if the fire hydrant would have been red, like normal fire hydrants. But no, this fire hydrant had to be highlighter yellow. 

Another of My 24 Things.

These are some more pictures from my 24 things project. I wanted it to be a little abstract but not too sure I accomplished that goal. I still think they turned out pretty good though once developed.

24 Things

I really like the picture of some bowls that were sitting in my kitchen cupboard. The picture that is on the left, is some oils and sauces that we for some reason always have and are never without although some of the stuff we ever rarely use.

2nd Project

This picture was my first experience with those big and gruesome machines in the dark room. I think it turned out pretty good but I wish that it would have more grays included, although there are a few..... just a little hard to see.

My Pinhole

This was my first project and I hadn't thought it would turn out as well as it did in the end. I had believed I moved too much and that the picture would turn out super blurry, but instead it is probably my best picture; and not even with a true camera!! :p

While I am creating this blog of my novice photo's, I realize as I am working I am trying to make my blog to have a certain feel to it. I hadn't really thought it would be too important to me, but instead it is. I really like abstract art if it seems they actually did some work on it. (Some of those pictures at the art museum, like the ones with a dot only are just not art in my opinion.) So, obviously I am trying to take abstract photos.