photog course: blur

teeny tale: north, south, east and west

she walked outside, noticing it was the time of year for new beginnings; color was returning to the ground. damp leaves, left covered by winter’s snowfall, crisped in the spring sunshine & took to life—snapping this way, then that way, lead by quick bouts of confident breeze. if the leaves could change direction so easily, why couldn’t she? but it was easy to realize why: with no mind of their own to second guess, and no sense of reason to weigh out the pros & cons, they just go where the wind directs them. i suppose i’ll have to lose my mind before i can go wherever the wind may take me, she thought. & then she noticed a leaf that had been blown upon a near by pond. it rode along, smoothly, but still in a direction not of its own. she decided then, that she liked having her mind, & even more so, she liked that it could take her in any direction that she chose.

playmobil.

                             

spotted beauty.

take with water.

I'm sure you could take these down with sun as well; however, it's raining here and these tunes seem to be a favorable complement to the damp exterior. Enjoy.

teeny tale: buttercream

she dressed in only shades close to that of buttercream, because she wanted others to think she was sweet & her accessories to display like thoughtfully placed sprinkles. it worked for a while, until she realized that the sweet stuff is what people test their appetites on first & when it's all gone the part that's beneath has to hold its own: it has to be just as appetizing as its sugary coating. a cupcake without its frosting is just naked cake & that doesn't do much for most. & so she decided she must be more than just some spongy avenue for others to take frosting from.

winter jacks.

see you next time?

First it was Fleet Foxes, now it's Joe Pug. Another workweek down, another missed opportunity had. It doesn't happen often, but every now and then being the copywriter at my job requires that I stick around when large proposals come swinging through the door last minute. I accept the responsibility and welcome the opportunity to show my worth. Even the 8 a.m. to 1 a.m. workday I can handle. There's usually giddy laughter, Chinese food and coffee runs--all of the above I can do. At the same time, these proposals no doubt, tend to come around when a band I'm interested to see perform comes around, too.

This week: Justin Towns Earle with Joe Pug. The former I'm not so crazy about, but the latter has been on my queue. Missing the chance to see him live, means missing the chance to really get to know him. There's nothing like filtering into a dark bar, a glass of whatever's on tap in your glass, and a cozy footing next to that guy you don't know and some chic he knows; you never get to know names, just recognize faces. And then the band takes the stage--it's no larger than the full-size bed you'll crash in later that night. The music starts, feet start tapping, hips start swaying. Those who know the words, sing; those who know some, mumble; while the one's with virgin ears stare--dry-eyed and buzzed they've reached a slice of personal euphoria. All of them, the dedicated follower, the almost fan and the new kid on the block, they've all gotten to know him, her, them, whomever is performing: they now know something the rest of us don't.

That's what I missed. But I've got others coming to town that will get me there in due time. For now, a glass of wine and computer-caged tunes will get me close, but hardly touching what could have been.

teeny tale: flannel friend

she looked to see a slightly weathered face, sprinkled with stubble, sitting to her left. & then noticed he, too, decided upon awakening this morning that it would be a checkered flannel that would cover his back for the day. The only difference was that his was black and red, while hers was gray and red—boyfriend cut.

“My mind is filled with silvery stars. Honey kisses, clouds of fluff…”

& she began to wonder what tunes, if any, were bouncing off those six windows & plastic frame, to be absorbed by the tattered upholstery he sat on, the ball cap set high atop his crown & layers stacked under those black & red checkers. maybe beyond that dented panel he, too, was wearing red chuck tailors. although she thought not likely. & it was then that she wondered whether the two, sitting contained in their individual metal confines—with clearly more than two doors & air separating them—had anything in common other than what they each pulled from a hanger or off the floor this morning. she was sure he carried more inside that car than just a heavy head, but the details she would never know. just as he would never know about the sleeping bag in her back seat, the owl necklace hung around her neck or the story behind the circles that hung beneath her eyes. but they had more than one thing in common on that day, at that very moment, which is more than some have…ever. & as she turned right & he rolled forward, she realized she did learn one thing about him: he was a man that dressed for comfort & who confirmed that checkered flannel will never go out of style.

sweet disposition.

here's to moments. moments of all kind. those had. those to be had. those longed for. those we wish we could forget. and for the simple ones. like when you think it's friday when it's really thursday.

The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition (Music Video) from Moop Jaw on Vimeo.

cheers.
j