Saturday, September 18, 2010

of time and wax

with as hectic as my life has been in the days of late, ive taken to my dear friend photography for a bit of conversation. i write about my child, the belly monster, my mrs, sugar, and the general state of affairs in my little cosmos. but its what i dont write that is the mass of my being.
its all been peachy.
i can bitch about the mighty dollar, and how mine are rather weak. ive always said i have deep pockets and short arms.
the general state of affairs has me in a whirlwind of love and kindness,whole hearts,and happy minds, i must say though, limited to he confines of my family. the rest of the state takes me dry and deep. yes, i take refuge in my work, and the rare acquaintance, but they are brief.
usually i type of some other other type shit, and a general mumble of the day to express the respect and gratitude i find in my partner and child, i am thankful for what i have been given, and i promise myself daily that i will remain an active participant, for i have created something larger than myself ,for which i now am responsible.
during this conversation with photography, i must say the fellow went for a gut shot.
i took to chronological order with the backlog, and came across what you see below.
five days after the birth of my son, he was admitted to dell childrens hospital. by my own admission, one of the most overwhelming trials of my life.

crying alone in an elevator ,having three floors to compose yourself, when youre going to get snacks, can be a rather humbling experience.
i took care in editing this photo, to make sure that most every time i view it, i will remember that elevator. i lived a lifetime in the illumination of each numbered button, bringing me closer and closer to the present tense, waiting in the east wing, in a plastic box, filled with tears and hope to only be held.
the days pass, without question. some slow, others just blinks.
that day will remain suspended in time, with the touch of every elevator button, the ring of every floor, the weight of a plastic bag in my hand, the scent of filtered oxygen,faux wood paneling,fresh wax,vitamin water,tooth brushes, and every tear that might roll down my cheek.

those three floors told me of the future,my resolve as a father and lover,and the insignificance of time
this so happens to be the image that accompanies them.
i would say to take from it what you will, but to be honest.... there is nothing to take.
be well,
my inspiration for today is photoshop, and gramatical errors due to rushing to bed


  1. you make me cry.

  2. im not sure if thats a bad thing, but given this entry, it shouldnt be