So here is the story behind Angels Await: It began at the beginning of the day when I noticed a Full moon would rise that night. Automatically, my plans were immediately canceled leaving me with work for half the day and a dedication to photography for the rest of the day. After work I got home and was ecstatic to go take photos at the top of San Diego's Cowles Mountain. So I got in the car and realized it was very early in the day so I thought I could go do some rock climbing and once Im finished I could just drive over to the Mountain. well two hours later after rock climbing I realized I had forgotten my camera bag. (not good) and so back home I went. In a rush I ran into the house. Thew down my keys, ran into my room, grabbed my bag, then proceeded out locking the door from the inside before it closed. And that's when all of this rush came to a holt. I had forgotten to grab my keys on the way out. So there I was, locked out of my own house with the sun setting behind me. When I sat down… read more

To start with, I'd like to offer a few fixed points, and draw some lines between them. Sitting in a planetarium a year or so ago, I was thinking about evolution and literature, and the relationship between constellations and memory. Using imaginary shapes as a key to the stars' relative location, early civilizations rendered a random pattern of birght points in the sky part of a legible, predictable system. The planetarium show, which combined views of the night sky with animated laser-like cartoons of Persues, Orion, etc, explained how the constellations, when combined with mythological narrative, created a iconographic calendar, with the rise and fall of constellations marking important agricultural events or festivals for the Ancient Greeks. It might be a stretch, but applying the logic of evolutionary psychology, humans who could see things in the stars might have been more likely to survive because they would remember to plant their crops, expect rain, or whatever other pragmatic knowledge was encoded in the night sky. More directly, making sense of the stars, no matter how opportunistically, would have helped migratory tribes of human ancestors in navigating the African savannahs. The North Star, the narrator of the show went on, was… read more

    The apple is perfect. Every detail of it, perfect, I could tell you about the way apples date back to the Garden of Eden, or the way they are immortalized in American folklore… but I won’t. If a dog is man’s best friend, I would argue that an apple tree is an equally loyal companion to the human race.  An apple tree isn’t often thought of as loyal, but a look through agricultural history reveals a lasting and happy relationship. Ask yourself: is it a coincidence that an apple fits perfectly in your palm? Bright red and green ornaments hang from the gnarled branches begging you to jump up and feast. Is that a mere twist of fate? An apple is a giving tree. The relationship between man and fruit has only strengthened through time. Apples are grown all year now, but little of the orchard novelty remains. In an attempt to utilize the apple, distributors wax the apples. They pretend it was their creation by branding the pocket sized fruit with cheap fingernail stickers. The orchard connection is gone, in your hand at the grocery store remains the detached result of a giving tree. Aesthetically, the apples continue to do their… read more

 So today, I had a dream that i was being chased.  In fact, Trying to recall the scene I think I was surfing on a wave while i was being chased. Yet truthfully that wasn't even the strange part. As it turns out I was being chase by a mysterious individual, while surfing a wave, with a tortilla. weird huh?   When I got up the next morning, I sat wondering. Now how on earth did my brain conjure up the idea that one could surf a wave with a tortilla, and not even a big tortilla either, just a regular old mission tortilla. Making sure I didn't forget the dream, I got up and did what any artsy person would do... wrote it down. As I was writing it struck me on just how imaginative the brain can be, and made me think of what exactly happens when a person dreams.   Before a person goes to bed they generally participate in various activities that requires thought, memory, and processes that push the brain. For example, Eating. The consumption of food if you think about it, is a huge neurological activity. It involves sight, smell, taste, touch, and for those who… read more

So I get all the scientific stuff like Gravitational Potential Energy is like magic as it can't be explained by our very simple minds. And the theories and big numbers all make sense and that there are allot more galaxies out there BLAH BLAH BLAH!Life... The "right" distance from the sun, the elements on our planets... and somehow a cosmic vagina gave birth to life... Is there a purpose or a meaning or are "purpose" and "meaning" just words that we use to make sense out of it all?If there is a  "purpose" of our placement in the cosmic mess ,we call "the universe", then what is it? Are we supposed to do something... (Apart from ruin the earth with our carbon emissions) And is the word "meaning" saying that everything needs to be explained or are we just hungry for answers? Another thing, the so called "balance of the universe". Is there one? or has the human race been living upon the theory "For every action there is an opposite reaction" from newton. Are we even heading in the right way of understanding "the cosmic mess" or have we taken a wrong turn.The question "what is the meaning of life" (42, yeah...); Is there an answer? Do we need an answer? Or… read more

Can Human hand create the wonder of nature in a concrete plot?Can colours run true, through the wrong angles that dig into the senses?Dull, grey, sharp, precise. Blocks, blocks of being. Before man there were no blocks. Nothing stood in the way of wild wild abyss. Mass explosions of sensation, pulsing tendrils, veins, leaves splashes, pushing their wonky sprawling.Strange we call a city a sprawl, with its equal measured lengths and spaces. Harmony? Yet harmony has many tones, each one a call to a different way. A way not found in the uniform flats, the matching maisonettes. Clean, hygenic, empty. Where are the myriads of colour? Where the boundless energy of light, exploding from all angles? The mirror up to nature. Ours is lost. No rambling hairy ancient trees, no weedling tiny saplings, wild weeds, unkempt greens and yellows. No...heritage! Old is bad, young is good. Innovation, cauterisation, newly neutered and cleanly censored.Where do right angles naturally occur? Our bodies don't carry such strict regimes...the beauty of mammalian life is fur, hair, the travelling lively dead mess attached to all but scales and amphibians. An organically and undeniably uncontrollable and busy mess. All different lengths, all different strengths and colours… read more

"You cannot slander human nature, its worse than words can paint." I hate you, for the clothes you wear, for the haircut that cost you £40. I hate you. You are repugnant, so vile, you have encircled yourself with your attituide of, "How does this effect me?" I resent you for your ignorance, I detest you for your lack of consience, you're just an ape in clothing, but heaven knows much worse. You've spent more on shoes today, than over a billion people worldwide, spend to feed their families. You laugh when you hear quotes, "One of the great things about books is sometimes there are fantastic pictures." George W. Bush because if you actually dealt with the terrifying truth of this, you'd be depressed beyond words. I hate you! I can't look at your face, I can't talk to you! Your smile and laugh with your friends! Every second someone dies, every minuite an acre of forest is destroyed. No matter, you are having a night out! It'll be great. No culpability, no responcability. Ignorance and forgetfullness. Perhaps a subconsious defence mechanism, to protect you from guilt. I hate you for what you've done. I hate you for what… read more

TIDES Quietly I slip from the warmth and comfort of bed,  your arms, making my way silently down the hall on a cool and foot worn wood floor.  From the kitchen comes a friendly and familiar sound of my Labrador’s tail swishing to and fro in anticipation of my company.  Coffee waits in the auto brew and the world, my world is still cloaked in a heavenly navy blue.“Are you ready?” I whisper as I pull on a sweater over my nightgown and reach to pat my dogs head.  It’s all I can do to catch her tail in hand before it thuds against the doorframe.  “Shhh!” I scold but her sorrowful look makes me cave instantly. “It’s okay Cassie” I whisper reassuringly, trying not to giggle at her enthusiasm.  She knows.We scamper down the cottage steps together in a race to the sands which slip beneath my bare feet as I struggle to keep pace with my companion who is much better equipped than I for our adventure.  The predawn breeze lifts my hair high behind my shoulders twisting it into strands as tight as a sailor’s rope.  My gown flows like water about my legs.  Cassie barks in the… read more