Little hardhats, shrugging off the debris around them, holding hands in the face of the world's constant need for chaos.

They won't let the world tear them down.

Never, ever.

Photo - S
Words - S

N: The winds started first. A breeze blew the red curtain and the wind chimes reminded me of the beach. You could hear the children scattering running of the field before the storm, then a flash of light, a crash of thunder. Stella scurried into the house.  The sky opened up. Screams from the little kids who hadn't made it from the car, followed by giggles. A sheet of rain and then the earth of fresh again. 
 
I love rain storms.

S; I love when i lie in bed and hear the thump thump thump of rain. The drum beat of the wet beads slapping against roof, lying so close to it, wishing it was beading all over my skin.

I love the feel of wet grass and rain in my hair. When my glasses wash over and I can't see a thing and just raise my head to the clouds and feel the way the air feels mid storm and enjoy every blessed drop.

I love rain storms.

Photo - N
Words - Both

Boldly stalk the woods, proud beast. For someday, you will end up somewhere else. Covered in dust, in front of a barely functional radio, forced to listen to Molly Hatchet all day long. Sad, fake eyes staring out at what once was and could have been. Now, a curiousity.

Photo - S
Words - S

I hate disease so much, I will hit you in the face with a cream pie.

Photo - S
Words - S

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is known for Sherlock Holmes.

But to me, he's known for so much more.

He was a major Spiritualist. After the death of his wife, his son, his brother, his two brothers-in-law and his two nephews, he fell into a deep depression. The fact that life existed beyond death gave him hope.

He was friends with Houdini, believing him to have great magical powers, but Houdini refuted him, leading to a public end to their friendship.

The Cottingly Fairy hoax totally took him. He believed that the fairies were real and a gift for the other world, so that people would see that imaginary things could become real. That this world was not everything it seemed.

His last words were to his wife: "You are wonderful."

Photo - S
Words - S

Uranophobia

I never told anyone before, but when I was a kid, I would lie in bed and contemplate heaven. The idea that I would be in a perfect place forever, surrounded by love and happiness, terrified me. I would think it over and over until my stomach began to hurt and I would yell and cry out the first thing on my mind. It would be easy to think it was night terrors or a simple inability to sleep. But it was more than that. It was a rejection of what should be everyone's goal. What was everyone's perfect, eternal Heaven was my biggest nightmare.

When asked what I saw heaven as, I would often say a sleeping bag, comic books and a Dr. Pepper. Maybe that's what heaven really is. I don't even think it exists, if you'd ask me today. It seems like such a silly concept.

I think life is like this. As a child, you think of heaven and believe. As you grow older, you get too intelligent to believe. And as you get older, you get closer to the end and hope that heaven is true.

Do you believe in heaven?

Photo - N
Words - S

Sometimes you break and crash and tear the asphalt, hoping to find flowers growing in the cracks. And all that turns up is cigarettes.

Photo - S
Words - S

I think someone should make a cookbook someday. It should be filled with recipes like, The What Came First, the Buffalo Chicken or the Egg Omelette. The Buffalo Chicken Pot Pie. The Bacon Bacon Sandwich Made with Bacon.

Really, someone should. There is a market.

Photo - N
Words - S

Beer comes up a lot.

This is what I grew up on.

Pabst in a small glass.

Served with pizza.

While watching a horror movie.

Whenever I need to remember the Saturdays of my youth, it's always Hee-Haw, Laurence Welk and something scary.

I need one of those Saturdays.

Photo - S
Words - S

Beer girls, I don't find you sexual.

You don't make the beer taste better.

And your bodies?

Made from plastic and chemicals.

You aren't sirens.

Go sing in some other 14 year old boy's ear.

Photo - S
Words - S

DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE DRIVE
every day that's all I do
I think too much
and I spend too much time by myself
I just want someone else to ride with

Photo - S
Words - S

Happiness now.

Not in the possible future. Not someday.

Right here.

Right now.

Make it happen.

It's the only thing you should do.

Photo - S
Words - S

Stanley Mack was my grandfather. He ate Penrose sausages. Drank PBR before it became ironic to drink it. We drove in his El Camino listening to Johnny Cash while he drank and drove down crazy back roads. He told me, before he died, that I should be happy. He hugged me the last time I saw him and said that. Everything I do is to be the man he was. I will never live up to it, but that's doesn't mean I don't try.

Photo - S
Words - S

I feel like a haunted house in an old Vincent Price movie. You are a ghost lurking in my darkened hallway. Creaky steps and shadowy basements, I hear you at every turn. Sometimes I am going about my day and a memory of you pops out of a secret passageway and frightens me. I often think that maybe I should have a priest or a ghost buster come and exorcise you from me. Would I miss you? Would the silence be deafening? Is it better to be alone and driven crazy by a memory? Or just alone?

Photo - N
Words - N

A house is just a house.

Unless you breathe life into it.

Some houses seem made to live in. Like they have become extensions of the person who occupies it.

Even though your roof is leaking and your tiles are falling down, it doesn't mean that you aren't happy.

Photo - N
Words - S

Sometimes, it seems so dark that we only allow light a small window into our worlds.

Today is the day that i want to open that window and allow brightness to invade my world. Your world. Everyone's world.

Photo - N
Words - S

My parent's yard was made from slag. I would dig up metal when I was a kid. Playing in the slag. My neighbor built a rock garden and to save money, he used slag too. All his plants and children grew up in the destris of a dead factory. It's a metaphor for home - closed mills and small flowers of hope.

Photo - N
Words - S

In the past, the public was entertained with train wrecks. Crowds would watch as two trains were deliberately sent speeding toward one another. Today, I looked at someone's tranwreck site, all dedicated to a loved one who died in one, and only updated to celebrate his passing on anniversaries. The chugging whoo whoo and smelling metallic crashing coal furnace powered slam bam pow of it all - romance, bloody romance.

Photo - N
Words - S

I will never burn anything I swear. I will build shrines. I will
make monuments.

Photo - N
Words - S

All these mysteries. Even the small ones. My brain wants to know all the answers. I wish they could come like a river. But I know that they will trickle down and I will learn things as I should. One at a time.

Photo - N
Words - S

There's something about your eyes
And the curve of your thighs
That makes me crazy

I watch you shimmy and shake
Leaving boys in your wake
As your ship rolls on by.

You're a creature of fire
Burning with desire
That threatens to consume me.

A mixture of sugar and cream
Girl you're a dream
And I want to drink you up.

Words - N
Photo - N

And I sat there and I didn't get up. I didn't clean. I didn't fret. I didn't leave all of a sudden.

It didn't feel wrong being where I was. I was home, after all.

Photo - N
Words - S

I love this road.

Filled with seedy motels, bars, bowling alleys and the only adult book store in town.

Every morning, it heralds my return to my hometown.

"Good morning," it says, reminding me of days gone by when I would meet my uncle as he finished his league night.

Every night, I drive past the motels again and make my way home.

And it makes me sad, but I know tomorrow, I will be back.

Photo - S
Words - S

Thursday I have to go to a funeral.

It's for someone who shouldn't be there.

All funerals are like that, in a way.

Photo - N
Words - S

You and I have the same sink.

Does yours have a hungry white cat in it, licking the sides for a last piece of food?

Mine does.

I'm happy he's there. He knows all my problems and listens intently, then runs away, hoping for another piece of tuna.

Photo - N
Words - S

Your heaven is a K-Mart that never closes and always has beer. Where dogs run through the aisles, waiting for the next Blue Light Special on bacon. And every song on the Muzak is one of your favorites. You can open whatever you want and every piece of clothing fits you perfectly.

Photo - N
Words - S

This is my favorite time. 4:30 AM.

No cars on the road.

Everyone, except very few people, is asleep.

It's as dark as it gets before the dawn comes back.

This is when I roll over, look at the clock and grin.

I still have a few hours to go back to sleep.

4:30, I love you.

Photo - N
Words - S

The women sat and told wedding day stories. Neither of them particularly had a happy one to tell.

The men sat at picnic benches talking about the new bride and groom. The groom said that it had been great, so far, but it had only been a month. The men said that by the law of averages, it wouldn't last. They laughed about that. The way the men talked, it all made me uncomfortable. They seemed so sure of themselves.

I don't think anybody's wedding day is perfect. Unless Jaws jumps out at just the right moment, that is.

Photo - N
Words - S

I'm looking for you. Maybe you're in a barn you pretend is your sailing ship. Maybe you're dancing with the faeries and fawns in the homes you built for them. Or you're riding the swings again.

I close my eyes and always find you.

Photo - N
Words - S

This is me at 3:48 AM on July 16, 2007.

Barely holding myself up.

Filled only with sleeping pills and orange juice.

This is me, sitting on a green couch, under a leaky roof, with a silver cat by my side, silent.

I keep waking up elated.

And then, I forget why.

Photo - N
Words - S

Here, you'll find nothing more than skeletons and metal. This is where even the rust has colored the rocks. The light barely makes it beneath the bridge. We crawled down the sticks and leaves, taking time to evade the posion ivy. We didn't fall, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

Photo - N
Words - S

Once upon a time, this was a huge park. Rock Point Park. It had thousands of vistors and people swam, danced, road a ride that plunged into the water and generally relaxed around 1900. Now, nothing is left. Except for some rocks and a boat dock, not much.

I imagine life is like a videotape. You can only tape over it so many times before things get left behind. Some people might call them ghosts. That's what I felt like here, that so much psychic energy was given and so much happiness in this place, that you can't help but marvel at the wonder and fun of it.

I stared out at the water for a long time. Just the way it flowed, went around and pooled in different sections. I wondered what it would be like to swim in the water. Wondered what it was like for the people who came here and swam and frolicked so many years ago. They're all gone now. So is Rock Point. And the stories are all gone, too.

This weekend, I thought a lot about stories. Telling them, hearing them. Wondering what kind of stories I will have to tell. I know that some people need to hear all their stories now, before they go away, before they whisper into the air and never come back down again. And I think, what kind of stories would you like to write?

So...farewell Rock Point. For 30 some odd years, I've dreamed of finding you. I will always hold what you could be in my heart.

Photo - N
Words - S

"No matter what you do, don't walk along the high trestle, OK?" said the mom.

"Sure, why would we do that?" said N and S.

Of course they were going to walk along the high trestle. This was an adventure, after all. The way across was somewhat scary, with S in front, checking each board like Indiana Jones on a rope bridge, but not as dangerous, handsome or roguish. N took the rear, walking with Stella the dog, asking if he was sure a tran wasn't coming.

"Old Indian trick, I put my hand on the rails and didn't feel any vibration." S said confidentally. She seemed assured and calm with his expert analysis.

Of course, on the way back, what did they hear?

A train.

They started running. As fast as they could run on the rickety boards. N had Stella in her arms, Sam ran in front. He felt kind of bad, really, he wanted her in front, but she just wanted to get off the bridge as soon as possible. He made it off and ran back for her, to grab Stella, to do whatever. She may have said "I don't want to die." He's not sure. Probably not.

Safety was reached. Dog walked around in her dog way. And the train?

All the way on the other side of the tracks. Far way, actually. S laughed really deep and hard. And neither of them felt dumb.

Photo - N
Words - S

Here's to Heaven

It's where you find it.

I found it in a store I've passed a million times and never stopped in.

If that's heaven, and I think it is, it's run by a little old lady and her 8 year old granddaughter runs the cash reigster and takes your money. It's where they keep board games in an old freezer. And the mirror of your dreams sits outside, half price, just waiting for you to pick it up.

Photo - N
Words - S

There's a house made for you out there.

It floats in the clouds. And every room has a different set of animals that all love you. And you can extend your anchor and climb up into another room, filled with paint and canvases aching to be made into art.

There's no blackness under your house. Because you can take it anywhere. Go wherever you want to go. Take your dreams to the stars.

And really.

It doesn't matter if your house doesn't float.

Or if you don't have any air conditioning.

Just make your home happy.

Somewhere just for you.

Paint the walls a million colors.

Make your garden grow.

Photo - N
Words - S

I can't boil it down.

There is no formula.

No X + Y = Z.

There is no reason behind it.

There is no explanation.

There is no problem to be solved.

Sometimes you have to fall back on what faith should be.

The willingness to take at face value things that are and leave them at that.

Photo - N
Words - S

Anyone who doesn't believe animals have souls has never woken up to the feeling of being held by a puppy.

Photo - N
Words - S

It's 90 miles from Florida to Cuba. And I don't know if they'd let us in.

But this is what I imagine the boat would look like.

And I like to imagine the pre-revolution Cuba, with sugarcane and casinos.

Maybe they'd give me a gun and say, viva Cuba, and I'd fire it up in the air.

And then you'd laugh and laugh.

Smoke a big cigar.

And find a moped.

Picture - N
Words - S

My eyes stung the whole way down the road.
I couldn't even see.
My eyes hurt.
I wanted to live within the feedback.
Within those drones of guitar.
I wanted to go thin and disappear inside the music.
Go away. Leave my body behind.
My eyes were filling up so fast.
And I couldn't run.
Couldn't hide inside those beats.
Inside that fuzz.
Inside the guitars.
I just had to go back driving.
Hands on the wheel.
Wipe my eyes.
And try and stay on the road.

Photo - N
Words - S

I am sick of words that inherently have been built to ask questions.
Why. How. Where. When.
Fuck these words.
They need to know too much.

Picture - N
Words - S

My windchimes don't make noise any more.
Their heart isn't into it.
Do your windchimes?
Do they still make the sound of tiny bells?
Late at night, are you comforted to hear them?

Picture - N
Words - S

I just watched an ant climb the wall many times

He would get so high, then fall. Or jump. Then he would do it all over again.

Some people would just smash the ant.

Me, I see him as someone who has some goals.

I don't wad up toilet paper and smash people with goals.

Picture - N
Words - S

The strange old woman rang up the purchases, looked at them and said "I see some sex in your future." Then she nudged me. Then she winked at you.

All we spent was 60 cents.

Imagine if we spent a whole dollar.

Picture - N
Words - S

You're my patron saint. Of drunkness. Of falling down laughing. Of long car rides wih great mix tapes. Of firecrackers. Of street corner goodbyes.

You can be the one I pray to before every dollar store purchase. Any time I read a good novel. Or watch a bad movie on TV.

You say, I'm alive, I can't be a saint. Open your mind up, snookums. You're my saint of thrift store socks. Of aisles of bowling balls. Of art made from crayons.

Laughter for no reason. Or good reason. Whatever people pray to you for, say, I will take the sainthood you have bestowed on me and do what I can with it.

Picture - N
Words - S

At night, the fortune teller said, you both will have exactly 21 minutes to talk to one another.

Only 21 minutes?

Sleep is infinite, she told us. 21 minutes will be all you need.

Picture - N
Words - S

I don't think you really know someone until you know their car.

Sit inside it.

See all the garbage, soda cans, McDonald's wrappers.

Dust on the windows.

See their car pull in.

Watch their car drive away.

I don't think you really know someone until you can recognize them by their car.

Picture - N
Words - S

She's going to the doctor to see what they can do
to keep her young.
She's going to inject poisons into her face
to keep her pretty.
She's going to ask them to life things, pull things
to keep her elastic.

You, I can see growing old.
I could never see her as someone old.
She'd never allow it.

You, I can see your eyes.
Between wrinkles and spots.
Age won't take away your spark.

Picture - N
Words - S

I'm the John the Baptist of your heart
Someday someone's gonna come along
And make all my words even more true
Make them all mean something real

Picture - N
Words - S

Wouldn't it be great if there were tools to fix our heads and hearts as easily as we fix cars and dryers?

Then again, my dryer broke hours after they fixed it.

My brain would always be at the garage.

Maybe we should just be happy with the stock parts we got, flawed as they are.

Picture - N
Words - S

Making things happen since 1980

"I was productive, even at birth," she said. "I rolled out of the womb saying 'Let's make some shit happen. Don't slap me. There's no need for violence. Be cool, doctor.' I got shit to solve. I've been waiting 9 months to make it all happen. So let's take a deep breath, give me a bottle, take a nap and let's get to working on fixing some stuff."

Photo - N
Words - N (as transcribed by S)