Sunday, December 30, 2007

open sesame

Oh God, Here are my hands, they are broken, bloody, and scarred. Here's my heart wrinkled and black, I know not what it means to hear those words God, after all I am just human, and I am the one saying them.. But i would like to think they are a spell, a sort of open sesame, a magical phrase, a sort of incantation where when my lips close, everything suddenly changes, when I am done speaking it all somehow turns to my liking. I would like to think life was just that easy, that there were such things as keys and bullet points to changing life, to solving catastrophic miseries, to mending one's weakness and braking one's demons but its not like that, so i'll continue to say my magical phrases hoping that after sometime they'll mean something to you God, not that they don't; I am just too blind to notice the smallest of changes, I speak them hoping that somewhere in time, i'll change the wording.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

A new Year. A New Start.



So Its A new Year Next Tuesday.
2007 was quite The Year, I learned A lot this past year about life, About God, About myself. I saw People come and go. I read books, saw films, ate food, drank lattes, Signed up for Children International and got a little picture of a little boy half the globe away and Even if i never see his little brown face I know that he had something to eat, I realized Life is not about ourselves but about everyone else. So the other day I slapped myself, I realize how stupid this sounds. But I thought about how if someone hits you your animal instinct is to hit that person back, but if you slap yourself its kinda stupid to hit yourself back... and then it hit me that its not until we feel that slap that we realize we are damaging ourselves with our apathy, procrastination, or sense of nothingness... we are corroding ourselves and only then can we stop our animal instincts and begin to change, to let the great one work start his work on us.

So In this new year I hope to take my dreams and make them true, So In this Blog I will post everything that i find interesting, Amusing, or helpful I will try to write down everything and give you an update of my year...Of my goals

1. Volunteer at the Soup Kitchen Once a Week
2. Start Writing A book, A non-fiction set of essays on life.
3. Begin Silk-screening T-shirts "CagedPedals Inc."
4. Make and Sell Top-tube pads to Bike Shops.
5. Join A Bicycle Club
6. Go back To School: SF State
7. Start An art Co-op
8. Start "The Fixed Image Project"
9. Learn to play an instrument.
Go to a Broadway show......and so many more.
10. Find God

So 'til Tomorrow... I'll Post some Images From Critical Mass


Wednesday, December 26, 2007

trail

“Fer what’s that red dots on the floor” …”What red dots?” “all those following us”, My eyes turned down and I noticed red small splatters of red all stretching out in a path, the path I take every Tuesday morning around 7:30 am, as I clutch my fist holding tight that little hand that holds a treasure known as my littlest sibling, her eyes are affixed on the red. I begin to wonder is it oil, paint, and then I notice its dark red resemblance to drip up blood, it’s a blood trail. To no surprise it comes, after all its been about every other day that I hear that loud rumbling, the dogs screeching and barking as the sprits roam the streets, you know they say that animals can see the angel of death. So as I walk my little angel I tell her is blood, I mean I wanted to say it was paint, that some great painter spilled his paint, that some known cook was running with oil and spilled it trying to put it on his sauté, But no this isn’t small America in the suburbs, I say its blood. She says why? I tell her do you remember the gunshots, she nods and says did someone die. I tell her maybe no, that someone managed to run and bled a little that they got home on time. I would like to think that I can walk that path at all times at never see the blue and reds lighting the streets like fourth of July, or I can walk and never hear the sound of a nine millimeter sealing someone’s death note. But no, this is my home…