tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34847053395071095252024-03-13T09:32:12.829-07:00HEY THANKS BENJAMINMy Backyard is Always Full of These ThingsBJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-13498629850525573902012-04-26T13:16:00.001-07:002012-04-26T13:16:57.569-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gRFRk13fS74/T5ms5FQc8VI/AAAAAAAAAQI/ukptfRfveg8/s1600/STRANGCAGE2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gRFRk13fS74/T5ms5FQc8VI/AAAAAAAAAQI/ukptfRfveg8/s320/STRANGCAGE2.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a3LZQ2zelrY/T5msrL_I6kI/AAAAAAAAAQA/71vfLU7_qQs/s1600/STRANGCAGE2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-7997360529629926242012-04-04T20:47:00.002-07:002012-04-04T21:17:59.857-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RqNxqIS2Uzg/T30W3rL0V2I/AAAAAAAAAPs/a7akMs9WDIE/s1600/IMG_1490.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RqNxqIS2Uzg/T30W3rL0V2I/AAAAAAAAAPs/a7akMs9WDIE/s400/IMG_1490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727759446826047330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lSqkoXDhU-8/T30W3Bn0QTI/AAAAAAAAAPg/TTEHMn-1Wko/s1600/IMG_1475.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lSqkoXDhU-8/T30W3Bn0QTI/AAAAAAAAAPg/TTEHMn-1Wko/s400/IMG_1475.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727759435669193010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kKYAmYaK4So/T30W2vqx67I/AAAAAAAAAPU/9ufj4LFdc7I/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kKYAmYaK4So/T30W2vqx67I/AAAAAAAAAPU/9ufj4LFdc7I/s400/IMG_1462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727759430849784754" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fMlL4-Cg8go/T30W4di3d0I/AAAAAAAAAP4/XeWUUOic6I4/s1600/IMG_1499.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fMlL4-Cg8go/T30W4di3d0I/AAAAAAAAAP4/XeWUUOic6I4/s400/IMG_1499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727759460344493890" border="0" /></a>This is a time for walking without coats, but keeping them still near. I sense new patterns in traffic, and so am trying to dress accordingly. We love Benjamin as directed. We love these small detours to the sun. Once again I have drunk too much and so the rain is driving. This is what makes me an accurate motorologist. Gas is a matter of days, and that is an interesting revelation regardless of our cycling. I have cans for this. I also keep some for dew. The rest I sit out back on my porch as a thank you gift to everyone who walks by. There are, in fact, many ways you can go, so I'm grateful you came this way.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-38699855318785794732012-01-31T13:57:00.000-08:002012-01-31T15:21:50.996-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yJoK8gCsZM0/Tyhkdde8TTI/AAAAAAAAAO8/BRWgrqseuqk/s1600/IMG_1351.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yJoK8gCsZM0/Tyhkdde8TTI/AAAAAAAAAO8/BRWgrqseuqk/s400/IMG_1351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703919385358126386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nMrxSKUGFMo/TyhkcmXOd7I/AAAAAAAAAOw/INZez87Y8kk/s1600/IMG_1345.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nMrxSKUGFMo/TyhkcmXOd7I/AAAAAAAAAOw/INZez87Y8kk/s400/IMG_1345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703919370561812402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jY2Ekz28xkg/TyhkcWFlFoI/AAAAAAAAAOg/dKufibyn4K8/s1600/IMG_1344.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jY2Ekz28xkg/TyhkcWFlFoI/AAAAAAAAAOg/dKufibyn4K8/s400/IMG_1344.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703919366192830082" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GywF-BHT9qc/TyhkcWRzQ-I/AAAAAAAAAOY/elxUhijcoqU/s1600/IMG_1329.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GywF-BHT9qc/TyhkcWRzQ-I/AAAAAAAAAOY/elxUhijcoqU/s400/IMG_1329.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703919366244090850" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1ma3YVdlnwI/TyhkeDaA7eI/AAAAAAAAAPI/CrvvWXcS_p8/s1600/IMG_1353.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1ma3YVdlnwI/TyhkeDaA7eI/AAAAAAAAAPI/CrvvWXcS_p8/s400/IMG_1353.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703919395538005474" border="0" /></a>I'm from Iowa. So, winter is a weird time to feel warm. But here we are with all these things; Iowa, warmness, winter, weirdness. On the upside? Walking. I'm walking a lot more. And bumping into people I know, and giving away more donuts than I ever have. I only really mean one of those things.<br /><br />Do you have a dog? I want a dog. My landlord, though, he doesn't think I should have a dog. My landlord isn't going to get a donut. Do you remember when we were kids and we used to find dogs and make them come home with us? How it worried our mothers? How it worried the dogs? We, though, for those glorious few hours, owned our own dogs. But then our dads would come home and untie them and let our dogs run back to where ever it was they came from. And that night, after our baths, we would dream about what kind of dog we would own tomorrow. Mine was medium-sized with brown hair just like mine. Yours you kept a secret, like some kind of birthday wish that had a real chance of coming true if it was only you who knew about it.<br /><br />The sun is setting and, in a too-long parade of cars, drivers and passengers are either singing or fighting. I've never been too good at telling those things apart. I mean, the orange helps me with the sunset, but the rest is just faces gathered clumsily around some feelings. They are like apples to me, these faces; without the proper labeling, anyone could be sweet and crunchy, or mealy and full of regret.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-88868205687715462252012-01-11T17:56:00.000-08:002012-01-11T18:38:32.909-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JpbD5m4m2E4/Tw4-sGPArRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/gOcNgYEkF6M/s1600/IMG_1319.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JpbD5m4m2E4/Tw4-sGPArRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/gOcNgYEkF6M/s400/IMG_1319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696559505978993938" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YZ3K3VYLyr4/Tw4-rsn1YfI/AAAAAAAAANw/coT-aZnxdRQ/s1600/IMG_1289.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YZ3K3VYLyr4/Tw4-rsn1YfI/AAAAAAAAANw/coT-aZnxdRQ/s400/IMG_1289.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696559499103789554" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pxwp8Cvd80g/Tw4-rf-qwRI/AAAAAAAAANk/KDNJqLb3jTc/s1600/IMG_1286.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pxwp8Cvd80g/Tw4-rf-qwRI/AAAAAAAAANk/KDNJqLb3jTc/s400/IMG_1286.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696559495709901074" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tVP6-_bR7N4/Tw4-rLxoMsI/AAAAAAAAANY/w3fVe_ED6_M/s1600/IMG_1325.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tVP6-_bR7N4/Tw4-rLxoMsI/AAAAAAAAANY/w3fVe_ED6_M/s400/IMG_1325.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696559490286498498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Aps3zvrPQo/Tw4-s6paQwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/2pql-ECr1z8/s1600/IMG_1290.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2Aps3zvrPQo/Tw4-s6paQwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/2pql-ECr1z8/s400/IMG_1290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696559520048366338" border="0" /></a>New York City is a good city to go to when you love someone who loves New York City. I'm relatively certain that's a song lyric, so there's no sense dwelling on it. In it. Though 8,008,278 do. And they all know where the light needs to be in order to walk around naked. I had hoped they would include that in the dweller's welcome packet. You see, my knowledge of your runofthemill city nudity is extremely limited. Or maybe you don't. Are you indoors too? I think that makes a difference.<br /><br />There was a time when I was looking for a job. Then there was a time when I had a job. But this was to be a temporary situation. For I am looking for a job again. Looking for a job is like being the world's worst treasure hunter. I'm relatively certain that goes for anyone looking for a job, so I try not to worry too much over all the X's. Besides, I've seen the Goonies enough times to know how this all works out.<br /><br />I have things you can buy if you are into buying things. First, a collection of dinosaur related poems written in collaboration with Friedrich Kerksieck and called, "FOSSIL," is available <a href="http://smallfirespress.com/chapbooks.html">here</a>. Second, a chapbook called, "BASTARDS," edited by Aaron McNally, is available <a href="http://abstrusermusings.blogspot.com/2011/12/bastard-questions.html">here</a>. I like these things very much, I hope you like them too.<br /><br />Have you ever listened to Lou Reed's "Live in Italy?" Even though he sings, "and the colored girls go..." Nobody goes. I mean, Lou Reed goes a little bit, but for the most part...nothing.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-37232920245714528112011-11-13T19:44:00.000-08:002011-11-13T21:31:44.585-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQKASooTT5g/TsCPZttw9_I/AAAAAAAAANA/aiwLI_E0z6o/s1600/IMG_1139.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQKASooTT5g/TsCPZttw9_I/AAAAAAAAANA/aiwLI_E0z6o/s400/IMG_1139.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674693202417874930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fytFWjo7IMs/TsCPZPzdrGI/AAAAAAAAAM0/1L9GRL1d3-o/s1600/IMG_1158.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fytFWjo7IMs/TsCPZPzdrGI/AAAAAAAAAM0/1L9GRL1d3-o/s400/IMG_1158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674693194388712546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fn5vNHq9EOs/TsCPYxHDO3I/AAAAAAAAAMk/2I7l2JgmiU0/s1600/IMG_1182.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fn5vNHq9EOs/TsCPYxHDO3I/AAAAAAAAAMk/2I7l2JgmiU0/s400/IMG_1182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674693186149366642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zGBg66WnAM8/TsCPYhdUj8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/xIS6MCtgRsY/s1600/IMG_1183.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zGBg66WnAM8/TsCPYhdUj8I/AAAAAAAAAMc/xIS6MCtgRsY/s400/IMG_1183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674693181947809730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uTqUj1vZn9c/TsCPZ94poHI/AAAAAAAAANI/fEMmUVrIs1I/s1600/IMG_1135.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uTqUj1vZn9c/TsCPZ94poHI/AAAAAAAAANI/fEMmUVrIs1I/s400/IMG_1135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674693206758498418" border="0" /></a>Winter is approaching. We know this because the turkeys are desiring community. We know this because of our new methods for reaching into the sky. There was a time for tweezers. There was a time for forks as well. These are no longer those times. Our skies are testing our grasp on skies. How we are able to get a hold. Be gotten a hold. Turkeys increase their tail size. You see they want to be held. Even that way.<br /><br />We have reached our dream center. Our ability to question our abilities. What lights do we look best under? Do we look best under anything at all? I don't know.<br /><br />The turkeys are swarming now and we are beginning to feel a part of something bigger. We may not look best under these lights, but we do believe we look warm. We look warm and therefore have something to offer. To proffer. Turkeys, we say, our arms are long and appropriately hinged. We can hold all sorts of things, even if the sky escapes us.<br /><br />The turkeys look at us queerly. They warble a few pleasantries and like you opening the jar I've struggled with for so long, they take the sky. We are intrigued and incapable of hiding and realizing it's time to edit that page in Wikipedia. The one that says nothing about what has just happened. This is stuff, we agree, the world needs to know.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-42785778378924378502011-10-23T20:54:00.000-07:002011-10-23T21:20:18.230-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mWDTERCNDUA/TqTi8hjGaiI/AAAAAAAAAMA/YdVu7MrIwHk/s1600/IMG_1050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mWDTERCNDUA/TqTi8hjGaiI/AAAAAAAAAMA/YdVu7MrIwHk/s400/IMG_1050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666903760564546082" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U1Fyj4S1zyg/TqTi8anePtI/AAAAAAAAAL0/79E1G2jNTgY/s1600/IMG_1016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U1Fyj4S1zyg/TqTi8anePtI/AAAAAAAAAL0/79E1G2jNTgY/s400/IMG_1016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666903758703836882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2gM-y6ZdoQ/TqTi8DY-mhI/AAAAAAAAALs/46O-5T4a_BM/s1600/IMG_1007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2gM-y6ZdoQ/TqTi8DY-mhI/AAAAAAAAALs/46O-5T4a_BM/s400/IMG_1007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666903752469027346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ag_Ql2KpPuE/TqTi76xaQ8I/AAAAAAAAALg/MQqGuNpAbUs/s1600/IMG_0799.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ag_Ql2KpPuE/TqTi76xaQ8I/AAAAAAAAALg/MQqGuNpAbUs/s400/IMG_0799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666903750155584450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPLNIGfbuxw/TqTi8_Qz2DI/AAAAAAAAAMM/7-vA9-NSdu4/s1600/IMG_1070.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPLNIGfbuxw/TqTi8_Qz2DI/AAAAAAAAAMM/7-vA9-NSdu4/s400/IMG_1070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666903768540895282" border="0" /></a>Our eyes can distinguish 2.3 million different shades of color. We've only named a handful of these. There is red in the sun and red in the shade. They are different reds, but we don't bother to name them differently. That's just how we are.<br /><br />When you have red cheeks I like you. When you have red cheeks that you let me kiss I like you more.<br /><br />Let us leave here and be healthy. Let us leave here and get some color. Leave the bulk of the 2.3 million for everyone else. My eyes are busy taking in so much that I'm afraid I don't have the time for every purple.<br /><br />I'm sorry, purple. If it makes you feel better.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-23054538692178304322011-09-26T17:06:00.000-07:002011-10-19T16:12:59.939-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nRl_mgMb1zU/ToESL_SO3ZI/AAAAAAAAALM/ivNzivMEZJo/s1600/IMG_0748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nRl_mgMb1zU/ToESL_SO3ZI/AAAAAAAAALM/ivNzivMEZJo/s320/IMG_0748.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FrMQsPzvGo8/ToESRAjLFjI/AAAAAAAAALQ/M2ptNHjHpXA/s1600/IMG_0749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FrMQsPzvGo8/ToESRAjLFjI/AAAAAAAAALQ/M2ptNHjHpXA/s320/IMG_0749.JPG" border="0" height="212" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7eaJC3UDERU/ToESXJ8YGqI/AAAAAAAAALU/FkUHAs9RHjU/s1600/IMG_0750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7eaJC3UDERU/ToESXJ8YGqI/AAAAAAAAALU/FkUHAs9RHjU/s320/IMG_0750.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylM_Y-wykZ0/ToESclEecWI/AAAAAAAAALY/bA524o2zviM/s1600/IMG_0751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylM_Y-wykZ0/ToESclEecWI/AAAAAAAAALY/bA524o2zviM/s320/IMG_0751.jpg" border="0" height="320" width="239" /></a></div><div color="black">Orleans is a city in north-central France, about 81 miles southwest of Paris. I'm sure it's a lovely place, but I'm not going to old crappy Orleans. No. I'm going to New Orleans.<br /><br />I went to New Orleans, I mean. This is what I get for not paying attention. A lack of retention. Some slack in the tension. Tense Ions. Tense I am. I am making logical leaps. Do you follow?<br /></div>BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-44687290084816930012011-09-11T18:22:00.000-07:002011-09-11T19:54:31.107-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sx5aMY2pHEM/Tm1fgfI4lBI/AAAAAAAAALA/P4ztx0uSyxM/s1600/IMG_0682.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sx5aMY2pHEM/Tm1fgfI4lBI/AAAAAAAAALA/P4ztx0uSyxM/s400/IMG_0682.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651278119139054610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hL9UTlkCDUI/Tm1fgMsiHoI/AAAAAAAAAK4/srrcdh_xs6g/s1600/IMG_0680.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hL9UTlkCDUI/Tm1fgMsiHoI/AAAAAAAAAK4/srrcdh_xs6g/s400/IMG_0680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651278114188304002" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AhltvJd8BgM/Tm1ffv-CFcI/AAAAAAAAAKw/bcguG1IB7eQ/s1600/IMG_0673.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AhltvJd8BgM/Tm1ffv-CFcI/AAAAAAAAAKw/bcguG1IB7eQ/s400/IMG_0673.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651278106477073858" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m1-qijkNeO4/Tm1ffU914qI/AAAAAAAAAKo/UVBLeMUXw44/s1600/IMG_0670.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m1-qijkNeO4/Tm1ffU914qI/AAAAAAAAAKo/UVBLeMUXw44/s400/IMG_0670.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651278099228517026" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eh9ldrj7c5c/Tm1fgZ97lzI/AAAAAAAAALI/6LE9imBBqDc/s1600/IMG_0693.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eh9ldrj7c5c/Tm1fgZ97lzI/AAAAAAAAALI/6LE9imBBqDc/s400/IMG_0693.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651278117750937394" border="0" /></a>I've involved myself in a fantasy. There are rainbows there. In fact, there are multiple kinds of water, all reflecting multiple kinds of multiplicity. This leads to a multitude of hard but ultimately satisfying lessons. I'm told there are numerous methods of counting. Of places we can put our numerals. Of how this fortifies us.<br /><br />How can we ever truly know our own pleasantries? you ask. You must watch the exchange program, I say. Yes, I am going away soon, but until then there are many good nights to bid you on. Good night, I say. Night, you answer.<br /><br />There is spite. There is despite. There is respite. There is also in spite, but that's just where our questions begin. It's a locator, you see, and I'm actually looking for something more in the interlocutor market. We should talk soon, you and I. Of course, this will all depend on where we finally decide to place our vowels. What's really worrisome though, is my inferior design of our interiors...but I'm reading up on the internet.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-24579832944608681332011-08-29T19:26:00.000-07:002011-08-29T20:16:34.621-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CuxZr98wRB4/TlxLI-mzHiI/AAAAAAAAAKY/HqQTBYb09_4/s1600/IMG_0625.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CuxZr98wRB4/TlxLI-mzHiI/AAAAAAAAAKY/HqQTBYb09_4/s400/IMG_0625.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646470650432527906" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y3UI2Q1wRcc/TlxLI6HLPlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/vNXec6o-90g/s1600/IMG_0656.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y3UI2Q1wRcc/TlxLI6HLPlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/vNXec6o-90g/s400/IMG_0656.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646470649226149458" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--cibzpzKaXQ/TlxLIqIg92I/AAAAAAAAAKI/OoeD90nTtFk/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--cibzpzKaXQ/TlxLIqIg92I/AAAAAAAAAKI/OoeD90nTtFk/s400/IMG_0624.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646470644936800098" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vjc8VraDcvM/TlxLIc4gZMI/AAAAAAAAAKA/YS66OppLVaI/s1600/IMG_0620.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vjc8VraDcvM/TlxLIc4gZMI/AAAAAAAAAKA/YS66OppLVaI/s400/IMG_0620.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646470641379992770" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yhh-Bb2f-M/TlxLJdpG5JI/AAAAAAAAAKg/HaXBkfEHr_s/s1600/IMG_0645.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yhh-Bb2f-M/TlxLJdpG5JI/AAAAAAAAAKg/HaXBkfEHr_s/s400/IMG_0645.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646470658763711634" border="0" /></a>Do you remember that time in 1987 when you held soul music up to your ear and heard Billy Ocean? Do you remember a few years later when you held Billy Ocean to your ear and heard the Fresh Prince? Do you remember how this is really how you got into hip-hop? Do you want to come over to my house and say marina to each other again and again until we do?
<br />
<br />Marina. Now you go. Marina. My turn. Marina.
<br />
<br />Yesterday I went the broken bird zoo. Do you know what happens when birds who eat flesh break? They keep trying to eat your face and you get real glad there are signs that say "Do NOT Put Hands and Face Into Cages." You normally aren't that good with signs, but the weather was just right today and so your face was always safe. Still, you can't help but be startled.
<br />
<br />Startled. Try that one. Startled. Today you startled me. She has a startling present. She startles with presents. But you can never promise to startle. I will startle you. Being startled comes from a lack of expectations. If you expect a startling, it will never come.
<br />
<br />They have no starlings at the broken bird zoo. Because they are passerines and have strong feet. Eagles eat passerines. I eat nectarines, but not like an eagle eating a passerine because I don't eat anything the way an eagle eats passerines.
<br />
<br />Do you remember when I was looking for a job? Turns out I was really good at that. I have two jobs now.
<br />
<br />I like that...
<br />
<br />BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-63089270921267979242011-08-17T21:52:00.000-07:002011-08-17T22:16:59.377-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E1wtQAEJk7o/TkybP8ZmDtI/AAAAAAAAAJw/LshwtfTXuq0/s1600/IMG_0600.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E1wtQAEJk7o/TkybP8ZmDtI/AAAAAAAAAJw/LshwtfTXuq0/s400/IMG_0600.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642055131402211026" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UhKiwqHlpFs/TkybPWzN_3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/GaTxjeMeM4U/s1600/IMG_0593.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UhKiwqHlpFs/TkybPWzN_3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/GaTxjeMeM4U/s400/IMG_0593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642055121309138802" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K00kXa0thLA/TkybOz2lzxI/AAAAAAAAAJg/-yt4NPff6X0/s1600/IMG_0586.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K00kXa0thLA/TkybOz2lzxI/AAAAAAAAAJg/-yt4NPff6X0/s400/IMG_0586.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642055111928041234" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O15KyzHJig0/TkybOX2rAQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/zDI9QXX7oO8/s1600/IMG_0569.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O15KyzHJig0/TkybOX2rAQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/zDI9QXX7oO8/s400/IMG_0569.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642055104412188930" border="0" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SRBRydFe304/TkybQXLhCQI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/xf6KpVL5YcU/s1600/IMG_0603.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SRBRydFe304/TkybQXLhCQI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/xf6KpVL5YcU/s400/IMG_0603.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642055138590918914" border="0" /></a>
<br />Jobs are busy things. I'm new to this bustling and I like it. Sometimes I try to be cute when I should be more smart. My body is frequently more busy because of it. There is much to be doing, but I'm still waiting for paychecks. In the meantime, I busy myself with bike riding.
<br />
<br />Last week was pleasant in all the best lunarways. The moon was almost full. The moon was full. The moon rose and I smelled the best apple smells ever. I had a birthday party and the moon waned the whole time. It was still a very good party.
<br />
<br />Right now, I kind of want to go to bed, but that is an involved process and so, it seems, I am not going to bed just yet.
<br />
<br />These are things I ate at the State Fair: a turkey leg, a funnel cake, fried Oreo cookies, fried pickle spears, more turkey that had a stick added to it after the fact, a few bites of ice cream and a gross slushy that didn't taste like what I thought strawberry lemonade should taste like. There were many other things I was going to try, but instead, I didn't. I feel good about a lot of decisions. That remains one of them.
<br />BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-44586222604068823882011-08-03T20:54:00.000-07:002011-08-03T21:49:41.051-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h9rJ3ynIO94/TjoYeivK4xI/AAAAAAAAAJI/toAroTFXASE/s1600/IMG_0538.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h9rJ3ynIO94/TjoYeivK4xI/AAAAAAAAAJI/toAroTFXASE/s400/IMG_0538.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636844796607390482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PVe85JUKyVQ/TjoYd3kPNTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8UE3_8KyWik/s1600/IMG_0546.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PVe85JUKyVQ/TjoYd3kPNTI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8UE3_8KyWik/s400/IMG_0546.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636844785018811698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RlcVi69svFY/TjoYddNga1I/AAAAAAAAAI4/euZ0e4qaiYo/s1600/IMG_0558.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RlcVi69svFY/TjoYddNga1I/AAAAAAAAAI4/euZ0e4qaiYo/s400/IMG_0558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636844777944148818" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKcbsD5MV1A/TjoYfFHXaPI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/ZZ3AAcYsOZU/s1600/IMG_0537.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKcbsD5MV1A/TjoYfFHXaPI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/ZZ3AAcYsOZU/s400/IMG_0537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636844805835679986" border="0" /></a>The most important question you may ever face: Why not get an airbrushed tattoo of 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pac</span>? As in, congratulations, Poet, here is your airbrushed tattoo of 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pac</span>! Or, if that doesn't tickle you, what about 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">pocahontas</span>? That tickles me. Also, saying the word, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Okoboji</span>. It's like saying, Okay <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">BJ</span>, but different.<br /><br />I started a new job today. Actually, if you ask the federal government, I started <span style="font-style: italic;">a</span> job today, having had no former job (in the last 18 months). You can't be unemployed if you are believed to have never been employed to begin with. I wasn't unemployed, no, I was simply not employed. But that's over now. I'm totally ambient.<br /><br />Today I cut myself twice on the same door. There is less of me now than there once was. I have less Benjamin to speak of. However, the door has a tiny bit more. Or, I guess, since it didn't have any before, it has some. Some Benjamin. The door, it seems, is basking in my newly found ambiance.<br /><br />Ohio is the worst. I've said it before, but feel a more permanent record is needed. Anyway, as I've said before, Ohio is the worst. Driving through Ohio is like driving through a Larry The Cable Guy album. You don't mind it at first, but by track 2, man, you can't wait for this shit to be over. That's when you realize you're only in Cleveland and the CD player is broke and the only way to get to the next disc to let it play. But then, just before the last track is over, it stops and charges you $20 for having listened to the CD all the way through. Ohio...you're the worst.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-76993984065135403152011-07-20T07:53:00.000-07:002011-07-20T08:48:47.019-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NW-R5h04oes/Tibsi65ovKI/AAAAAAAAAIo/a4fmE_Drq8w/s1600/IMG_0530.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NW-R5h04oes/Tibsi65ovKI/AAAAAAAAAIo/a4fmE_Drq8w/s400/IMG_0530.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631448468744092834" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gnQXk5Y7DMs/Tibsim_I3qI/AAAAAAAAAIg/wXn4eqmW_E4/s1600/IMG_0529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gnQXk5Y7DMs/Tibsim_I3qI/AAAAAAAAAIg/wXn4eqmW_E4/s400/IMG_0529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631448463398461090" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W904h377zSg/TibsiT9RuDI/AAAAAAAAAIY/y-IT07-FY44/s1600/IMG_0526.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W904h377zSg/TibsiT9RuDI/AAAAAAAAAIY/y-IT07-FY44/s400/IMG_0526.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631448458290378802" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-leQXHx1Tzj8/TibsjKvM7YI/AAAAAAAAAIw/nSIpDQJVYWA/s1600/IMG_0532.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-leQXHx1Tzj8/TibsjKvM7YI/AAAAAAAAAIw/nSIpDQJVYWA/s400/IMG_0532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631448472995294594" border="0" /></a>Of all the problems we deal with, I can't believe we so readily overlook "places to keep our dog while we shower at the rec center." It's also easy to forget that sometimes the best possible solution to this problem is a combination of solutions...like an I.V. drip or a bombpop. The dog goes on the clothes on top of the locker next to the backpack just below the sign that says no camera phones. This is a perfect solution. I think we can all agree.<br /><br />Have you noticed how every time "Kung Fu Fighting" comes on, it always seems to be the perfect time for "Kung Fu Fighting" to be on? Phenomenology, maybe, but I have to believe in something more sound. Something like, "Kung Fu Fighting."<br /><br />When I was a kid I loved the Foucault pendulum at the science center. As I grew up, it never occurred to me that Pendulum Foucault wasn't Phenomenology Foucault. How great was this guy, I'd say to myself, with all his ways of existing. But I know a lot more now than I did this morning. Leon Foucault was not Michel Foucault and was pretty rad in his own right. Eddy currents, gyroscopes, pendulums and light speeds. He did those things! I often wish I lived in world where swinging weights and playing with tops were still science experiments. Alas, they are nothing more now than office decoration and bad birthday presents.<br /><br />It's hot. I wish it were less hot. But then I think of how wishes are usually limited in quantity and I take it back. I'm saving my wishes for something better.<br /><br />But I do kind of wish it were less hot.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-47841640769740601532011-07-13T14:57:00.000-07:002011-07-13T15:29:57.113-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CHDDuuRNItU/Th4V76bW25I/AAAAAAAAAII/QvVranATq8M/s1600/IMG_0515.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CHDDuuRNItU/Th4V76bW25I/AAAAAAAAAII/QvVranATq8M/s400/IMG_0515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628960703300164498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MdkbmmTEW6Q/Th4V7LYYSMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/aWTpYSKvYyA/s1600/IMG_0511.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MdkbmmTEW6Q/Th4V7LYYSMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/aWTpYSKvYyA/s400/IMG_0511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628960690671208642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s1o2aRkxyrM/Th4V6QjiU_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/UwWjuALc-lw/s1600/IMG_0508.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s1o2aRkxyrM/Th4V6QjiU_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/UwWjuALc-lw/s400/IMG_0508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628960674880312306" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPX1h0IDrr4/Th4V8jJ_K-I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/KsWWuwh4Szo/s1600/IMG_0516.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPX1h0IDrr4/Th4V8jJ_K-I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/KsWWuwh4Szo/s400/IMG_0516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628960714233162722" border="0" /></a>Walks. I've been on some. One day I came across a camp of migrant workers. I would have felt sad, but they were all so happy. I went back there a few days later to see them again. They were gone and my assumptions were correct. All there was was a pillow, a few t-shirts and little ways down the path, a blanket. These things aren't sad in a dresser or on a bed, or, even when someone is using them under the bridge the trail goes under, but they are sad here.<br /><br />The clouds are all moving the wrong way today, but my typing is progressing as expected. So time travel, my initial and gut-based conclusion, is most likely not the answer why. What ever is going on, these clouds are going to be pissed when they see the Rocky Mountains again...<br /><br />Hey Thanks Benjamin is the name of this blog. HEY THANKS BENJAMIN is the name of my manuscript. I used them both to try and score a job today. I hope it worked. I did make them sound very interesting.<br /><br />Further Adventures will have a small but noticeable presence this Saturday, July 16th at the <a href="http://www.iowacitybookfestival.org/">Iowa City Book Festival</a>. 10am in front of the UI Main Library/Gibson Square. I walk/ride through that park everyday. I'm looking forward to spending a bit more time there and maybe talking to you. I'll have free stuff. Mostly free stuff, actually. I'm down to only a few books. You should say stop by and say hi. I'll say hi too. It will be a pleasant exchange.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-41687813962909666182011-07-10T14:09:00.000-07:002011-07-10T14:48:52.488-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOIAP-TW8CA/ThodCPhE4tI/AAAAAAAAAHw/C9Oykrflrwo/s1600/IMG_0507.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vC4tJm1wEgw/ThoWYKbbGqI/AAAAAAAAAHg/MkFmycrNGyE/s1600/IMG_0494.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vC4tJm1wEgw/ThoWYKbbGqI/AAAAAAAAAHg/MkFmycrNGyE/s400/IMG_0494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627835288724904610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-56qXuFnRYYI/ThoWXvql66I/AAAAAAAAAHY/V6CjNRSipRs/s1600/IMG_0481.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-56qXuFnRYYI/ThoWXvql66I/AAAAAAAAAHY/V6CjNRSipRs/s400/IMG_0481.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627835281540770722" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MqrRMf9-PUk/ThoWXfux9-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/zDlI5TdIXqQ/s1600/IMG_0489.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MqrRMf9-PUk/ThoWXfux9-I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/zDlI5TdIXqQ/s400/IMG_0489.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627835277263370210" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pa_7OWrwsEg/ThoWXKSQ-YI/AAAAAAAAAHI/n51AHXz3N24/s1600/IMG_0468.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pa_7OWrwsEg/ThoWXKSQ-YI/AAAAAAAAAHI/n51AHXz3N24/s400/IMG_0468.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627835271506622850" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T7yYd-OLnBU/ThoWYWxH1iI/AAAAAAAAAHo/fwFlAO6NoKs/s1600/IMG_0484.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T7yYd-OLnBU/ThoWYWxH1iI/AAAAAAAAAHo/fwFlAO6NoKs/s400/IMG_0484.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627835292037142050" border="0" /></a><br />I was recently at a place that looked like this. I went to see the Mississippi River, but found it less interesting than the place I was looking at it from. Alfred Caldwell designed this place. Alfred Caldwell designed other places too. Namely, the Alfred Caldwell Lily Pool in Chicago. I've seen that too. Do you know about the Prairie School aesthetic? I do. Natural landscapes using native materials in an effort to mimic local ecosystems. Ecosystems take care of themselves. But we're not building ecosystems, we're building structures. Upkeep becomes necessary. We know this because we take showers and get haircuts. Most of Alfred Caldwell's parks have recently taken showers and gotten haircuts. And they're all pretty again. Hey, that's a fact!<br /><br />And here's another one: Caldwell was hired by Mies van der Rohe to teach at IIT. This blog started with me being in a place called Mies van der Rohe's Farnsworth House.<br /><br />Harold "Duke" Dejan used to tell you that "everything is lovely." You were often hesitant to believe this, but then, somehow, it just became true.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOIAP-TW8CA/ThodCPhE4tI/AAAAAAAAAHw/C9Oykrflrwo/s1600/IMG_0507.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOIAP-TW8CA/ThodCPhE4tI/AAAAAAAAAHw/C9Oykrflrwo/s400/IMG_0507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627842608715064018" border="0" /></a>Sunsets like this definitely helped in that.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-58101242778984492962011-07-06T10:21:00.000-07:002011-07-06T11:27:13.797-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_uiznOv8oqM/ThSbDvkCHwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ze3-P1zm9KY/s1600/IMG_0437.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_uiznOv8oqM/ThSbDvkCHwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ze3-P1zm9KY/s400/IMG_0437.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626292323102105346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jInbWTnH7M8/ThSbDRetEYI/AAAAAAAAAGw/R9myUP5VtgI/s1600/IMG_0432.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jInbWTnH7M8/ThSbDRetEYI/AAAAAAAAAGw/R9myUP5VtgI/s400/IMG_0432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626292315026690434" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDrSU7AsoCc/ThSbC_Clb1I/AAAAAAAAAGo/t7VmtbBBQ5Y/s1600/IMG_0431.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yDrSU7AsoCc/ThSbC_Clb1I/AAAAAAAAAGo/t7VmtbBBQ5Y/s400/IMG_0431.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626292310076911442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Nf676TkSqKs/ThSbCkjO8rI/AAAAAAAAAGg/7tnv7C7jYqM/s1600/IMG_0414.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Nf676TkSqKs/ThSbCkjO8rI/AAAAAAAAAGg/7tnv7C7jYqM/s400/IMG_0414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626292302966092466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1B_eax6IPFs/ThSbEdwWUNI/AAAAAAAAAHA/vBGvnmbyEHs/s1600/IMG_0444.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1B_eax6IPFs/ThSbEdwWUNI/AAAAAAAAAHA/vBGvnmbyEHs/s400/IMG_0444.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626292335501791442" border="0" /></a>Kansas City A Go Go! Kansas City I Went Went! I'm sure there are many, many things to do in Kansas City, but I only did these things; ate BBQ at <a href="http://www.oklahomajoesbbq.com/">Oklahoma Joe's</a>, saw many great things at the <a href="http://www.nelson-atkins.org/">Nelson-Atkins Museum</a>, including the museum itself, spent time with good people, and fell in love with condensed milk.<br /><br />On the way home I stopped and looked at a bridge of Madison County. It was romantic as shit.<br /><br />A haboob is a dust storm. A dust storm is really fucking <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Haboob2.jpg">scary</a>. A haboob is a funny word to be scared of.<br /><br />I drove around in the country yesterday. I picked some wild flowers. I walked in corn. I saw a huge fire. There was also a sunset and an unhitched trailer rolled over in a ditch that said "Funnel Cake" on its side. That's a funny way to make a funnel cake, I thought.<br /><br />I also heard this really great song:<br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CkNFnh7AR2w" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="560"></iframe><br /><br />Do you know the reason why iced coffee costs more than regular coffee? I don't, but whatever it is, I bet it's stupid.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-29379363352693231182011-06-30T10:52:00.000-07:002011-06-30T11:30:05.571-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KDR5DsyxVn0/Tgy42-7yhqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/Pzm8ESa_Mg0/s1600/IMG_0394.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KDR5DsyxVn0/Tgy42-7yhqI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/Pzm8ESa_Mg0/s400/IMG_0394.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624073289425127074" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lP16prcsG3g/Tgy42ay4yhI/AAAAAAAAAGI/K7hXgBCdRQU/s1600/IMG_0381.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lP16prcsG3g/Tgy42ay4yhI/AAAAAAAAAGI/K7hXgBCdRQU/s400/IMG_0381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624073279724112402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TiuKysqpBJk/Tgy41zNodlI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Y1b6dLl8dIc/s1600/IMG_0378.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TiuKysqpBJk/Tgy41zNodlI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Y1b6dLl8dIc/s400/IMG_0378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624073269098870354" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ohOBD9e7TV0/Tgy41U7Wj3I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mP0RtS9XfwU/s1600/IMG_0377.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ohOBD9e7TV0/Tgy41U7Wj3I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mP0RtS9XfwU/s400/IMG_0377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624073260969135986" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l8wLJMjduas/Tgy43XTOuAI/AAAAAAAAAGY/IqVBHTldNTw/s1600/IMG_0396.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l8wLJMjduas/Tgy43XTOuAI/AAAAAAAAAGY/IqVBHTldNTw/s400/IMG_0396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624073295965894658" border="0" /></a>Do you like hanging out at the beach? I used to not. But now I kind of do. In fact, I will be there shortly, trying my best to distract myself while I wait to hear about a job. It's a good job. A job I want pretty bad. If I get it, I'll tell you more, but for now I'll tell you that I'm out of clean underwear and will probably buy more before I wash what I already have. I'm 32, by the way.<br /><br />Have you listened to Beyonce's new record? I have...7 times. The production is a little scattered, but it still comes together in the way a good mix CD comes together. Thematically, again, much like a good mix, it's pretty consistent falling in and around, "I love you," "I miss you," "I'm glad I don't love you," "I want to love you again," and "this is what love makes me do." I have a few favorite songs, but I want you to guess what they are. Maybe someday I'll put them on a mix for you...<br /><br />Do you think anyone has ever captured on film what it's like to stand in field glittered with lightning bugs? I don't think anyone ever has because that seems like something that really wouldn't make an interesting picture, but is, nonetheless, a totally awesome experience. Kind of like finding a breezy spot in the shade on a really hot day.<br /><br />My therapist is out of town on vacation. I wish she weren't because I've had a really busy week.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-33872382302263145722011-06-26T12:24:00.000-07:002011-06-27T18:41:54.749-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YH_0Xb88-c0/TgeH1AGOH8I/AAAAAAAAAFg/e0vUn82vwcE/s1600/P1010272.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YH_0Xb88-c0/TgeH1AGOH8I/AAAAAAAAAFg/e0vUn82vwcE/s400/P1010272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622612004424261570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qUVmKY4WnIY/TgeH05uAvsI/AAAAAAAAAFY/W1l6o9wQfYI/s1600/IMG_0370.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qUVmKY4WnIY/TgeH05uAvsI/AAAAAAAAAFY/W1l6o9wQfYI/s400/IMG_0370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622612002712108738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BiYBSwhorg0/TgeH0nDcdMI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/kpM4OyxxQ84/s1600/IMG_0369.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BiYBSwhorg0/TgeH0nDcdMI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/kpM4OyxxQ84/s400/IMG_0369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622611997701731522" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_IGKuToZe_4/TgeH1dhPSFI/AAAAAAAAAFo/bLkSeImSi1Y/s1600/P1010273.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_IGKuToZe_4/TgeH1dhPSFI/AAAAAAAAAFo/bLkSeImSi1Y/s400/P1010273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622612012322211922" border="0" /></a>I'm broke as shit. But somehow I still managed to see 2 plays, 1 chamber music performance and 13 Assassins. Have you ever seen a guy use the crook of elbow to squeegee blood from a sword? I have. And it was totally boss.<br /><br />My apartment has spiders. That is why I am not in my apartment right now. I have spider bites. They're rashy and itchy and after a few days they look like bruises. If there are any spiders reading this, be warned. I have seen 13 Assassins and am soon to return to my apartment.<br /><br />The air smells like fried eggs here. I've been here for 2 hours. I'm really hungry for fried eggs. I think I'll make fried eggs for supper tonight.<br /><br />Today I visited my grandma. She fed me goulash, a ham sandwich, green beans, cottage cheese, applesauce, strawberries, watermelon and then asked if I wanted her to make me a hamburger.<br /><br />I almost said yes.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-80792991116271563992011-06-23T11:07:00.000-07:002011-06-23T12:19:18.106-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G5ZsC8V-7aQ/TgOBeaLtfcI/AAAAAAAAAFA/rSoOJW17NXQ/s1600/IMG_0286.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G5ZsC8V-7aQ/TgOBeaLtfcI/AAAAAAAAAFA/rSoOJW17NXQ/s400/IMG_0286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621479119313010114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I3lAQwGoKmQ/TgOBdpXW2RI/AAAAAAAAAE4/hfRyd585HX0/s1600/IMG_0284.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I3lAQwGoKmQ/TgOBdpXW2RI/AAAAAAAAAE4/hfRyd585HX0/s400/IMG_0284.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621479106208520466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BKtlSjWW3-k/TgOBdJpUy3I/AAAAAAAAAEw/jtYA499q2wY/s1600/IMG_0353.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BKtlSjWW3-k/TgOBdJpUy3I/AAAAAAAAAEw/jtYA499q2wY/s400/IMG_0353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621479097693948786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m-PGALKm6_k/TgOBcwFn1gI/AAAAAAAAAEo/yHB3o1QDEc4/s1600/IMG_0354.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m-PGALKm6_k/TgOBcwFn1gI/AAAAAAAAAEo/yHB3o1QDEc4/s400/IMG_0354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621479090833315330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPJiQs1K3Nw/TgOBe5U4edI/AAAAAAAAAFI/U7doeEvDJSc/s1600/IMG_0289.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPJiQs1K3Nw/TgOBe5U4edI/AAAAAAAAAFI/U7doeEvDJSc/s400/IMG_0289.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621479127672977874" border="0" /></a>Rhinoscapes, Eggscapes, Landscapes and Potted Meatscapes. We should all try to scape more things, sometimes. But especially when our chairs can't stop rolling over our donuts.<br /><br />How super-famous are you? I'm not very super-famous. Not super-famous at all, really. But I do write poems, so it's only a matter of time.<br /><br />That is just one feeling I've had. Another is this:<br /><br /><p style="font-style: italic;"><strong>Letter to a Lover</strong></p><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><p style="font-style: italic;">Today I am going to pick you up at the beige airport.<br />My heart feels like a field of calves in the sun.<br />My heart is wired directly to the power source of mediocre songs.<br />I am trying to catch a ray of sunlight in my mouth.</p><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><p style="font-style: italic;">I look forward to showing you my new furniture.<br />I look forward to the telephone ringing, it is not you,<br />you are in the kitchen trying to figure out the coffee maker,<br />you are pouring out the contents of your backpack.</p><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><p style="font-style: italic;">I wonder if you now have golden fur?<br />I wonder if your arsenal of kind remarks is empty?<br />I remember when I met you you were wearing a grey dress,<br />that was also blue, not unlike the water plus the sky.</p><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><p style="font-style: italic;">They say it’s difficult to put a leash on a hummingbird.<br />So let us be no longer the actuary of each other!<br />Let us bow no longer our heads to the tyranny of numbers!<br />Hurry off the plane, with your rhinestone covered bag</p><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><p style="font-style: italic;">full of magazines that check up on the downfall of the stars.<br />I will be waiting for you at the bottom of the moving stairs.</p><p><br /></p><p>Actually, that's a Matthew Zapruder feeling, but I sympathize with it.<br /></p><p>A few months ago MZ told me that the single most efficacious circumstance on his poems was when he read, on camera and at the cameraman's behest, to a single woman at a gas station. Being that close to someone who easily could not care was a revelation in voice and purpose and scope. Poemscope...to keep the poem both practical and mystical without have one devour the other. You want magic, yes, but you want the kind of magic that is putting in change for one soda and having two pop out. That is thinking of a loved one just before they unexpectedly call you. That is Apple Cider Donuts at the Farmer's Market. And yet, none of these things are beyond reason, resting somewhere between hope and expectation. I feel this is a good place for poems to be, somewhere between hope and expectation. A reverie, maybe, but more like the end of that poem...that moment your lover's head crests the horizon of an escalator, and your heart explodes a little.</p><p>A series of tiny heart explosions...<br /></p>BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-50732199479113547542011-06-14T22:08:00.000-07:002011-06-14T22:31:29.372-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0rjEZtnvQko/Tfg_B0pgx1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/UlKCSWisOAE/s1600/IMG_0273.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0rjEZtnvQko/Tfg_B0pgx1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/UlKCSWisOAE/s400/IMG_0273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618309835689871186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pUVMUVGM4YA/Tfg_Bb5Re-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Ze1pckcs_Vk/s1600/IMG_0267.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pUVMUVGM4YA/Tfg_Bb5Re-I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Ze1pckcs_Vk/s400/IMG_0267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618309829045091298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tJHWXemEe6c/Tfg_A5P9G0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/twBdjWwvUpo/s1600/IMG_0271.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tJHWXemEe6c/Tfg_A5P9G0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/twBdjWwvUpo/s400/IMG_0271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618309819744983874" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pQkbaQDUnoc/Tfg_AOP6F-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/BnGsw9EnX1s/s1600/IMG_0220.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pQkbaQDUnoc/Tfg_AOP6F-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/BnGsw9EnX1s/s400/IMG_0220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618309808202061794" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GriReNQ75pM/Tfg_C0MGI8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/5Mx7fXaBD54/s1600/IMG_0274.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GriReNQ75pM/Tfg_C0MGI8I/AAAAAAAAAEg/5Mx7fXaBD54/s400/IMG_0274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618309852746359746" border="0" /></a>Today I told a group of 8 year-olds to dream up a list of incongruous things. Like gummi bear toilets. Or Cheez Wiz ears. Or potato skin bears. Towards the end of our sharing though, a young one stood and quite proudly said, vegetarian cookies. I thought for a second and then said, you mean, like cookies made from vegetarians? And she said, no, vegetarian cookies. I said, well, those are real...in fact, most cookies are. To which she replied scoffing, BJ, you can't make cookies without bacon soda.<br /><br />I was taken aback, totally.<br /><br />You know what, I said, I'mma let you have that one.<br /><br />But as the day has worn on, I'm wondering; is that a joke? Did I get played by an 8 year-old?<br /><br />Did I? I mean, that's almost too perfect, right?<br /><br />Help me.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-65806648958577110532011-06-09T09:45:00.000-07:002011-06-09T11:03:18.668-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-57zU-uR_Ge4/TfD6A5CvfQI/AAAAAAAAADw/0WsE60mpmVk/s1600/IMG_0260.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-57zU-uR_Ge4/TfD6A5CvfQI/AAAAAAAAADw/0WsE60mpmVk/s400/IMG_0260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616263628550274306" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KQ8JE1XbT-I/TfD6AaEOsAI/AAAAAAAAADo/qJbQH0eju3s/s1600/IMG_0246.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KQ8JE1XbT-I/TfD6AaEOsAI/AAAAAAAAADo/qJbQH0eju3s/s400/IMG_0246.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616263620235014146" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1mDRyGshJxE/TfD5_n8lxbI/AAAAAAAAADg/7uBAFrLmIIc/s1600/IMG_0245.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1mDRyGshJxE/TfD5_n8lxbI/AAAAAAAAADg/7uBAFrLmIIc/s400/IMG_0245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616263606781199794" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8E_adfxAtVA/TfD5_BzaiDI/AAAAAAAAADY/6yqgNq41JCE/s1600/IMG_0217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8E_adfxAtVA/TfD5_BzaiDI/AAAAAAAAADY/6yqgNq41JCE/s400/IMG_0217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616263596542167090" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gh3SUSEB52o/TfD6BEIL2lI/AAAAAAAAAD4/4TBFP3KnUW0/s1600/IMG_0263.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gh3SUSEB52o/TfD6BEIL2lI/AAAAAAAAAD4/4TBFP3KnUW0/s400/IMG_0263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616263631525894738" border="0" /></a><br />Bike rides are pretty rad.<br /><br />Last night I ate the best pizza I think I've ever had.<br /><br />Finishing books always makes me kind of sad.<br /><br />Today it's rainy and cool and I've decided to do laundry and look through the want ads.<br /><br />But there are spiders everywhere here, even in my mattress pad.<br /><br />Have you ever eaten Woeber's Cranberry Horseradish Sauce? It's not that bad.<br /><br />The last few mixes I've made were named: bad, cad, dad, egad and fad.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-38070632941652336742011-06-07T13:13:00.000-07:002011-06-07T13:46:15.671-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9BhSwsi7Abw/Te6HCcaOHtI/AAAAAAAAADI/SjXpwkVs0wg/s1600/P1010269.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9BhSwsi7Abw/Te6HCcaOHtI/AAAAAAAAADI/SjXpwkVs0wg/s400/P1010269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615574261433245394" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-viiElDGQbKs/Te6HCLdp25I/AAAAAAAAADA/6P6FfXlrVqM/s1600/IMG_0250.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-viiElDGQbKs/Te6HCLdp25I/AAAAAAAAADA/6P6FfXlrVqM/s400/IMG_0250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615574256884243346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ridKL_iOZBQ/Te6HBrzh6oI/AAAAAAAAAC4/H4Fgk7-Pmw0/s1600/IMG_0249.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ridKL_iOZBQ/Te6HBrzh6oI/AAAAAAAAAC4/H4Fgk7-Pmw0/s400/IMG_0249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615574248386062978" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BEEJWh5imig/Te6HC4k7WpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ziIUtqNMAbo/s1600/P1010270.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BEEJWh5imig/Te6HC4k7WpI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ziIUtqNMAbo/s400/P1010270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615574268994345618" border="0" /></a>I don't know that it matters which city you're looking down on, when you're up 10 stories, they all take on some amazing, totally finger point worthy qualities.<br /><br />My therapist said I need to shed my shoulds...and then told me <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>I should write a poem about it.<br /><br />Yes, I should, I said.<br /><br />Then she asked me if I could help her with the tiller in her garden. I hesitated, but then she said that we could keep on talking and that she wouldn't charge me for the session.<br /><br />I did it. I'm cheap. And I have a fucking weird relationship with my therapist...<br /><br />Hey Thanks Benjamin is the name of this blog. HEY THANKS BENJAMIN is the name of my manuscript. I've sent it out to three places, each place receiving a slightly different version. It keeps telling me it's done. I hesitate and then I write another poem that seems to fit.<br /><br />I put them in. I'm obsessive. And I have a fucking weird relationship with my manuscript...BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-24028944260385544812011-06-01T12:29:00.000-07:002011-06-01T13:14:42.670-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ux54froN-IM/TeaTjVbANII/AAAAAAAAACk/c3E2zFVc6-Q/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ux54froN-IM/TeaTjVbANII/AAAAAAAAACk/c3E2zFVc6-Q/s400/IMG_0232.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613336220819010690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Q8F8-uXyPU/TeaTi5TPDlI/AAAAAAAAACc/mL8AyHrHrjc/s1600/IMG_0231.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Q8F8-uXyPU/TeaTi5TPDlI/AAAAAAAAACc/mL8AyHrHrjc/s400/IMG_0231.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613336213270236754" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ga4-SIh3Vg8/TeaTjho70GI/AAAAAAAAACs/BCJBuHkMNac/s1600/IMG_0233.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ga4-SIh3Vg8/TeaTjho70GI/AAAAAAAAACs/BCJBuHkMNac/s400/IMG_0233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613336224098668642" border="0" /></a>I've been reading, off and on, "Your Father on the Train of Ghosts," by GC Waldrep and John Gallaher. It's a testament to a shit-ton.<br /><br />There are so many poems here. Most of them good. But good doesn't seem to be the point.<br /><br />That they are here at all, poems just being poems, that is what this book exists for. And honestly, I don't mind it. Like I said, the poems are good enough, occasionally great, and even more occasionally worthwhile. Which is what makes reading this book really enjoyable. Really, who's to say poetry needs to be worthwhile? Why do I need to feel like a poem hasn't wasted my time?<br /><br />I mean, that's why I read poems...to waste time. When I read the paper, I don't hesitate to jump from one article to the next, so as to not waste time. But when I read poems, I'm happy to waste the time, because somewhere, it feels good to know that that is what I'm doing. I'm just sitting around, reading some fucking poems and this book allowed me that greatest of luxuries without feeling like I owed it more than that.<br /><br />I hate that feeling...like I owe books something. Look, I say, I'm reading you, isn't that good enough?<br /><br />Happily, in this case, it seems to be.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-29568484667787121842011-05-31T13:33:00.000-07:002011-05-31T13:53:14.795-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QlGbgstdhQo/TeVQ5WkScII/AAAAAAAAACM/OUgL_VeZAWs/s1600/IMG_0228.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QlGbgstdhQo/TeVQ5WkScII/AAAAAAAAACM/OUgL_VeZAWs/s400/IMG_0228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612981456827740290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Olem09CRndY/TeVQ5CjTv5I/AAAAAAAAACE/ydwJFzZNQMA/s1600/IMG_0227.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Olem09CRndY/TeVQ5CjTv5I/AAAAAAAAACE/ydwJFzZNQMA/s400/IMG_0227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612981451454922642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JHhTtOO1DIQ/TeVQ4ifSxzI/AAAAAAAAAB8/FBLNwbws7TA/s1600/IMG_0226.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JHhTtOO1DIQ/TeVQ4ifSxzI/AAAAAAAAAB8/FBLNwbws7TA/s400/IMG_0226.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612981442848147250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SLsnQDP4uds/TeVQ4LgqscI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Ngxe0QNqgZc/s1600/IMG_0223.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SLsnQDP4uds/TeVQ4LgqscI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Ngxe0QNqgZc/s400/IMG_0223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612981436679893442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n_fNRlThio4/TeVQ5smMTEI/AAAAAAAAACU/DkQGL2KOxEI/s1600/IMG_0229.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n_fNRlThio4/TeVQ5smMTEI/AAAAAAAAACU/DkQGL2KOxEI/s400/IMG_0229.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612981462741306434" border="0" /></a>I think, probably, that when I see dead things, I prefer them to be mangled and grotesque. It just feels less sad that way.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mikemillsweb.com/">Mike Mills</a>, the director and artist, said this in the paper Sunday, "I grew up in not just a family but a town and a culture where sadness is something you’re taught to feel shame about. You end up chronically desiring what can be a very sentimental idea of love and connection. A lot of my work has been about trying to make a space for sadness.” <br /><br />I feel that way.<br /><br />He also said this in a poster I wish I could look at in a more real way, "Then I buried myself in Romantic sentiment and waited for you."<br /><br />I feel that way.<br /><br />I'm still looking for a job. Have you seen one lately? I think I do everyday, but I can't be sure I remember what they actually look like. You should let me look down your arm if we happen across one someday.<br /><br />I appreciate direction.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-71409826285372575072011-05-28T10:50:00.000-07:002011-05-28T12:16:46.253-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mIDszci49Ag/TeE2s98TXRI/AAAAAAAAABk/Vbphao2EKjs/s1600/IMG_0210.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mIDszci49Ag/TeE2s98TXRI/AAAAAAAAABk/Vbphao2EKjs/s400/IMG_0210.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611826756849982738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q8qhIhIcTWc/TeE2stU9jyI/AAAAAAAAABc/DrnmGBwKJc8/s1600/IMG_0209.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q8qhIhIcTWc/TeE2stU9jyI/AAAAAAAAABc/DrnmGBwKJc8/s400/IMG_0209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611826752390008610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-98LAvUOzpYk/TeE2sDNyM8I/AAAAAAAAABU/ThD5lSi0p-k/s1600/IMG_0128.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-98LAvUOzpYk/TeE2sDNyM8I/AAAAAAAAABU/ThD5lSi0p-k/s400/IMG_0128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611826741085615042" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4yYlxLDZerM/TeE2r7pqHYI/AAAAAAAAABM/-qbf9JYmzaQ/s1600/IMG_0125.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4yYlxLDZerM/TeE2r7pqHYI/AAAAAAAAABM/-qbf9JYmzaQ/s400/IMG_0125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611826739055041922" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlIXJVvzLEM/TeE2tLhl76I/AAAAAAAAABs/Ny_bWi4zYl8/s1600/IMG_0211.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlIXJVvzLEM/TeE2tLhl76I/AAAAAAAAABs/Ny_bWi4zYl8/s400/IMG_0211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611826760496050082" border="0" /></a>Looking for a job is the absolute worst. Two months ago I was expecting full-time employment at some kind of school. Now, I'm hoping for a part-time job at the public library...and even that seems like a longshot.<br /><br />In the meantime, though, here are pictures of clouds and other assorted tropospheric curio. These things often amaze me...I mean, to think that phenomenon so beautiful happen by chance, through a series of events that are particular to elemental conditions. Seriously, That shit is crazy! AND, to know that it is so fleeting, changing away from you and this moment before you're brain has even fully processed it. It's totally wicked...<br /><br />I've also been thinking a lot about Mtv Party to Go CDs and Diet Mt. Dew fountain sodas. After some consideration, I've concluded that I'm always in the mood for both these things, all the time. I mean it. ALL. THE. TIME.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484705339507109525.post-3109068001426051512011-05-23T09:16:00.000-07:002011-05-23T12:03:13.292-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eQGxcAUn8Os/TdqH6Nu4yXI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SKGTnRwMkWU/s1600/P1010360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eQGxcAUn8Os/TdqH6Nu4yXI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/SKGTnRwMkWU/s320/P1010360.JPG" border="0" height="219" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ay80X85XikQ/TdqIADsriGI/AAAAAAAAAAU/yIcHWXeXEQA/s1600/P1010365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ay80X85XikQ/TdqIADsriGI/AAAAAAAAAAU/yIcHWXeXEQA/s320/P1010365.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aSfdIpI4DDY/TdqIFDml0VI/AAAAAAAAAAY/yN108mbWmu4/s1600/P1010370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aSfdIpI4DDY/TdqIFDml0VI/AAAAAAAAAAY/yN108mbWmu4/s320/P1010370.JPG" border="0" height="214" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2DQFJYxFeXk/TdqIJ7WNKvI/AAAAAAAAAAc/qpw2Q3ka1hY/s1600/P1010374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2DQFJYxFeXk/TdqIJ7WNKvI/AAAAAAAAAAc/qpw2Q3ka1hY/s320/P1010374.JPG" border="0" height="215" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hPhiktV-AP8/TdqINKnEgzI/AAAAAAAAAAg/9qxkoavkQGE/s1600/P1010397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hPhiktV-AP8/TdqINKnEgzI/AAAAAAAAAAg/9qxkoavkQGE/s320/P1010397.JPG" border="0" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>After months of hype, we finally drove to Plano, IL to see the <a href="http://www.farnsworthhouse.org/">Farnsworth House</a>. I was, in all honesty, not expecting much. It’s a house. In the woods. By a river. But you walk down this path, and gradually the massive swath of green is increasingly interrupted by white lines jutting into and out of your more natural expectations. And yet, the house itself never seems out of place, or foreign from it’s environs.<br /><br />Somehow, it makes sense. As though, this is the perfect house for this place. Which is particularly weird, you think, because you’ve always imagined Modernism being mankind’s ultimate departure from the wilderness, but here you are, in this house that would not work at all if it wasn’t surrounded by these trees, this river, those flowers. Mies van der Rohe, you realize, was never attempting to separate man from nature, rather, he was desiring to put us back into it.<br /><br />Here too, is where, “Less is more,” suddenly makes sense, is made real. You get it. And oddly, or maybe not, it’s quite moving. This house makes its’ environment impossible to ignore, you are drawn out into it, always, and it feels quite romantic, which is also something you’d never before attributed to Modernism. Here, you are feeling a little loved and you begin to wonder where you would put all your stuff. What it would be like to wake up in this bed. To sit in this chair (of which there are only a few in the world) and read. To walk to this kitchen and make yourself a sandwich. To throw open this door and feel that breeze, smell those smells. To host BBQ’s…whoa.<br /><br />You’re way ahead of yourself now, and feeling a little ridiculous. But then you see, that’s the magic of this house. That’s what makes any drive here worth it. It’s not the house you came to see, but yourself in it. The Modernists were genius, you think, and I want to remember this. So, you sadly leave the house, watching it, slowly and over your shoulder, disappear back into the trees (which is what it seemed designed to do from the get), and go and buy yourself a t-shirt, because, you guess, that is as a good way to remember things as any, and you really don’t want to forget this day.BJ Lovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11433923459975044096noreply@blogger.com0