A little something something.

Typical, really.

A fuller type of circle.

My Dad bought himself a (new to him) car. It's a delightful 1960 MGA 1600 which, when being restored was fitted with an 1800 motor. From some of my youngest momories spent driving around with Terry (Dad), I can recall him telling stories of cars he'd owned through the years, and the pieces of crap he'd bought as a young man. The point of the majority of these stories was that cars are a money-pit and rather a poor investment. This is of course, true, but I always thought that the freedom and enjoyment of driving was worth the cost, and a big part of growing up and learning responsibility.

Seeing my Dad's face light up when explaining the lustre of the British Racing Green paint, the quality of the tan interior, the finish to the chromed luggage rack, and witnessing his enjoyment at blipping the accelerator while working down the gears into a corner tells me that He hasn't lost his youth; it just got buried by all that shit you have to do when you grow up. It also reminds me of the similarities in our personalities. So, if I grow up and become as He is, that'll suit me just fine.

It's all good.

Nothing really compares to a good time spent with good friends in the pursuit of happiness.

The Return of My Perspective

One thing I can never get enough of is perspective. Every now and then you lose it, or perhaps it loses you. All you've got to do is tilt your head a little to make the scenery change.

What's beyond the flash?

There comes a time.

I'm headed to "The States" for 5 weeks, so I'll not have a chance to update this with photos. Perhaps a few words might interject, but probably not.

I thought I might leave something special that I toiled over. It's about time and place and those things that matter most when they matter.

"A" Poem.

A meeting of chance: A chanced autumn night.
A rush of the rouge to my head at your sight.
A whirlwind.
A tightrope.
A pressure-point pressed.
A gift of good-grace one couldn't reject.
A sense of sensation.
A spring in my stride.
A floating.
A tingling.
A focus.
Alive!
A promise from me, to me, all for you.
A notion of love to forever ring true.
A future so bright; my own sun and stars.
A large chunk of space for you in my heart.
A life, lived living a dream of delight.
A reality now: A chanced autumn night.

Never a dull...

A day in the sun offers many a ponderance. To each their own.

The Apogee.

I saw my good friend get married last week. The gravity of someone pledging themselves to another was sensational. I can see myself doing the same thing one day, but I can't imagine the who, what, when and where of it. It'll be one of the few times in my life that the why and how are the first to be understood.

So simple yet...

There's meaning in my life.

I just need to remember where I put it.

Zilch.

I've lost myself in a swathe of disillusionment. Life can get seemingly ordinary at times, maybe this is why we are sentimental: Desire. We're always wanting for things though not necessarily new things. Just a return to the old can be enough of a new feeling.

These are the last photos I have of my grandmother before she succumbed to cancer. She's holding her first, great-grandchild.

Revelations.

I've decided that looking for beauty in everything is inutile. If I just accept everything for what it is then I'll have found the beauty without having to look. Besides, if you have to focus on one point then you might miss the big picture, and humanity is constantly about the bigger picture.

Almost...

The entrance.

There are times in my life when I desire silence and company at the same time. Only certain people I know can provide me this. Sometimes I can barely deal with myself and my own thoughts, let alone humor someone else's sense of self. It's still too early to tell whether or not I'm ok with my selfish tendencies.



She held on and wouldn't let go. It was probably nothing more to her than a reflex.