The psilocybin skateboard
He said
he was bored
and, the day being hot and slow,
I understood that.
And he said
he was on mushrooms
and, being a recovering alcoholic,
I smiled quietly at that.
(Photographed in Brisbane, California in September, 2020. See my other work here.)
And, lo, there was a bird
And, lo, there was a bird
outside the picture window
of the living room
where my father-in-law died.
It was a day of peace
and happiness.
I was entertaining a friend
with dinner in the living room,
and the bird was
just being its bird self.
It had nothing to do
with what happened
to my father-in-law
in that living room,
but being there
made me think of him
and whether in some way
he was in the bird
and looking in
on the home of the life
he left behind.
(Photographed in Brisbane, California in September, 2020. See my other work here.)
Tokyo likes you
I’ve got another book for you, something I’ve been thinking about for a couple of years but only managed to construct in the past couple of months during the COVID-19 stay-at-home orders my wife and I are living under here in California.
And as you’ve likely guessed from the title above my book is about Tokyo, my favorite city in the world and a warmer, friendlier town than one might think. At least it has been for me. Maybe I’ve just been lucky or haven’t pissed off the right people, who knows?
Anyway, the book is full of (mostly) black and white photographs of (mostly) happy, smiling people in various street locations around the city. And like my last book, it’s free. But unlike my last book, there’s very little text in it (beyond captions) and the overall message of the work isn’t a heavy downer.
- So download “Tokyo Likes You”. The cover is here and the book is here, both totaling just under 30MB.
- And donate (if you’re so inclined) to my “getting ‘Tokyo Likes You’ printed” fund here.
I’d love to hear your comments or criticisms. You can unload on me about “Tokyo Likes You” by leaving a comment on this post, or by contacting me via Facebook, or Twitter.
Thanks for having a look, and I hope you enjoy “Tokyo Likes You”.
(Brisbane, California, April 30, 2020. See my other work here.)
To Michele on our 20th anniversary
After 20 years
I don’t have it
in me anymore
to not love you
more than my life
more than mankind
more than any life
but yours.
You have saved me
so many times
from myself
I’m pretty sure
you hold the mortgage
on my soul.
If I believed in souls.
If I did
you would be one,
an immense, timeless
born-before-god-and-sin
holy, anti-entropy soul.
And I love you
more than
any version of god
anyone ever invented
and sold by the pound
to the poor, needy,
and helpless.
You are better than all of that, ever.
You are beyond that
in my uneasy mind,
a mind troubled by
literally every fucking thing
but you.
I want to hold on to you
to love you
and have you
near me
for 100 years more.
Alive, I mean.
I know you knew that.
There’s no sin
in the simplicity
of hoping for
an impossible wish.
I already got one: you.
And I want
another 100 years of you,
because the 20
we’ve been married
just doesn’t
seem like enough.
(In California in 1991, 2005, and 2019. See my other work here and here.)
How we get to the snacks
So, the coronavirus, yeah. How are you holding up? It’s crazy out there, right? Not like ‘violence in the streets’ crazy, not yet, but nutty enough. I really hope you’ve got enough savings and food and family support and job security to get though this as painlessly as possible.
I’ve been going out every day, mostly just to my local grocery store a few blocks from my house to get Dr Pepper and cigarettes. And I started a little project photographing people wearing masks, at food stores and elsewhere, to protect themselves from viral infection. It’s not a world-changing project, but it’s something to keep me occupied while we’re all mostly stuck at home all day.
So I hope you enjoy the photos here, and the growing number of photographs I’m compiling here. Thanks for having a look.
At a Grocery Outlet in San Francisco
Waiting in line outside a Nijiya Market in San Francisco
At Midtown Market here in Brisbane, California
(San Francisco and Brisbane, California, March, 2020. See my other work here and here.)
She took a moment to compose herself…
During the coronavirus panic I’ve been going out every day, mostly to my local grocery bodega here in Brisbane, California for cigarettes and Dr Pepper. And even though my town is literally right next to San Francisco, sharing a city and county line, folks here have been nice, calm, and collected. No freaking out or hysterical behavior, at least not that I’ve seen.
The lady in my photographs here is a good example. It was sunny and in the high 60s on March 19th when she came walking up the street while I was loitering in front of the grocery store having a smoke. I loved her lace dress and her glittery sandals, and asked her for a few photos.
And she cheerfully agreed. But as you can see in these photos and the complete sequence here, she took a moment to compose herself. But she looked kind of great doing it…
(Brisbane, California, March, 2020. See my other work here and here.)
Convenience
I’ve shopped in a lot of 7-11s in my life.
Maybe you have too.
I only started photographing people I’d encounter at 7-11 a few years ago. I was a public school substitute teacher in 2016 and 2017, and I used to stop by whatever store was on my way to work for a Dr Pepper and some kind of donut for breakfast.
I’m not a school teacher any longer, but I still treasure my 7-11 adventures. See more of the people I met at the convenience store here. I hope you enjoy them.
(Photographed in South San Francisco, California in September and November, 2016 and in May, 2017. See my other work here and here.)
On New Year’s Eve, 2019
On New Year’s Eve
I always get weird.
I think about my failures,
for there’ve been more of those
than successes.
I think about my wife,
her gentle, enduring beauty,
and about my life
and how it’s going to unfold
in the next 20 or 30 years.
If I have that long.
I’m closer to death now
than I ever have been before.
So are you.
You know that, right?
Every little day
closer to the big sleep.
And when mine comes
I hope you’ll be at the party,
a big party,
for I will have raged against dying.
Raged hard, obstinate, and fiercely.
Hell, I’m fighting death now.
I mean, aren’t we all?
I’m fighting it all the time.
Because it’s going to be 2020 in about 12 hours,
and, you know, I have shit to do.
(Brisbane, California, November and December, 2019. See my other work here and here.)
“Tokyo Panic Stories” is free, and so am I
I’ve just completed my first photography book, a major (meaning ‘large’) work called “Tokyo Panic Stories” which presents Tokyo street life in pictures and words. And I want you to have a copy.
For free.
Seriously.
I’ve been working on this book for almost eight years, though prolonged bouts of writer’s block, chronic depression, alcoholism, self-doubt, massive anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder (from a heart attack on New Year’s Eve, 2003), low self esteem, poor fashion sense, and general malaise. And now that it’s finally done, I want to share it with as many people as possible.
I’ve tried finding a publisher, but nobody’s interested. I don’t have the money to publish proper hardcopies of it myself, and I don’t want to wait until I do. So I’m just going to give it away. For now, at least.
- So download “Tokyo Panic Stories”. The cover is here and the book is here, both totaling 58MB.
- And donate (if you’re so inclined) to my “getting ‘Tokyo Panic Stories’ printed” fund here.
I’d love to hear your comments or criticisms. You can unload on me about “Tokyo Panic Stories” by leaving a comment on this post, or by contacting me via e-mail, Facebook, or Twitter.
Thanks for having a look, and I hope you enjoy my book.
Christmas Eve, 2019
The blade runner time
didn’t start this year,
no flying cars,
but we have more artificial people than ever.
Many of them are running our supposed country,
for example.
So I’m sitting here, smoking,
waiting for the demons and imps,
the ones I usually hold at bay,
to come beating down
the walls of my mind
and demand their Christmas presents.
The bastards, they think
because they have a place in my head
they’ve earned a place in my head.
They think
it’s all about me,
but it’s all about them,
and how I’m going to try again
this year
to evict them by drowning them in eggnog.
(Brisbane, California, November and December, 2019. See my other work here and here.)