Lockland's Blog

We have missed you!

2011-12-28T12:12:00.000-05:00

Millie Wilford

Two years ago today, Millie Wilford left this world to spend the rest of eternity with God. Millie or as I called her Grandma, was 91 years old when she left us. She had a full life though. She was the mother of 16 that wouldn't let you get away with swearing. She was the grandmother who loved and cherished her grandchildren each the same as the other, even though there was over a hundred of us to love. I know that today she is there in heaven with Epp giving him hell. We miss you Grandma. We Love You.

Untitled 1994

2011-12-05T12:12:00.000-05:00

This is another one of those painting that I was just piling the paint onto the canvas. This painting is so much more about the brush strokes that I don't really believe that the picture does it any justice.

Cabin In The Mountains

2011-12-02T12:12:00.000-05:00

I painted this cabin that actually belongs to friends of my mother. It is nestled on a mountain side in North Carolina. I have never been myself but my mother sent me photos and I put it to canvas. I wish I had a better picture of it, but it is no longer in my possession, it now belongs to the owners of the cabin. I like the chill that this painting gives off only being in black and white. It was a fun painting to work on.

The Days Lengthen

2011-11-30T12:12:00.000-05:00

The days lengthen with each moment I am without you.

My heart hungers for your love, comfort, and presence.

The distance between us is unfathomable.

How will we survive this happening in our lives?

Undoubtedly you will meet someone else.

But will he be the same as I?

I can only pray to God above to keep us together.

Even though we are apart.

They say patience is a virtue

But how can we be patient when our love is so far away.

Depuis la première fois

2011-11-28T12:12:00.000-05:00

Depuis la premièrefois

Que nous avonsrencontre

D’un jour sanstoi

C’était difficilede penser.

J’ai us de camoment

Qu’une vie sanstoi

Sera si vided’amusement.

Sens-tu le mêmede moi ?

Je sais que jet’aime

Mais je veuxsavoir

Si de moi, tu sentirasle même.

Oui ! Hélas !Je peux relâcher ce soir.

Chateau Azay-Le-Rideau

2011-11-23T12:12:00.000-05:00

In a previous post about an Untitled Painting, I mentioned I was practicing with the sunlight through the trees effect. The practice was for this painting from a photo I had taken at the Chateau Azay-Le-Rideau back in 2007.

Longing

2011-11-21T12:12:00.000-05:00

I lie dreaming of him as the waves

Crashin the distance.

I dream of his blonde hair, blowing

Wildlyin the wind.

I can see his face, his smile spread

Acrosshis visage.

The way he patiently listened to my every

Word,understanding my thoughts.

How could I have blown it? Never thinking

Itwould ruin our relationship.

At one point we had so much, yet now

Allwe have left is miniscule.

Love is all I have left, all I can

Clingto; hoping to make it through.

So I dream of that future time when Love

Willbring us back together again.

Spring

2011-11-18T12:12:00.000-05:00

The flowers bloom

The birds sing

The ice thaws

The Sun warms

The butterfly emerges

The nectar gathered

The pollen spread

We make love.

Untitled Painting

2011-11-16T12:12:00.000-05:00

This is another painting of a place that doesn't truly exist. I simply was playing with the light of the sun coming through the trees. It was a piece I actually painted twice. My youngest brother has a copy as does my father.

This Is Not Me

2011-11-14T12:12:00.000-05:00

This is not me. I amliving a lie.

I am different than what I say.

I say I am like any other man.

But I say not, I am gay.

I am betrayal and I am a falsehood.

Can people not discern that?

Yes there are ones I have told.

But only by mistake or by mishap.

I know God loves me for who I am.

Yet others find me weird.

Is it that they are afraid?

Or could it be that I am queer?

I ask you to love me.

Not to say that I am right

Why you cannot see this is beyond me.

Understanding! That is what I pray for at night.

Fountain Pens

2011-11-11T12:12:00.000-05:00

There are few things I appreciate in life as much as I appreciate a great writing fountain pen. It's a guilty pleasure I picked up while attending school in France. I even sometimes believe that my writing is better when I use a fountain pen versus a roller-ball pen. I don't mean my penmanship either. Something about a fountain pen makes a connection with my soul and my brain that allows my thoughts and words to flow just like the ink through the nib. I haven't put this theory to a true scientific test, but it seems to be the case with me.

Self Portrait - Circa 1999

2011-11-09T12:12:00.000-05:00

This is a self portrait I drew around 1999-2000, not quite sure. Thought it was odd that I drew a pack of cigarettes next to me. Or not so much odd as interesting if you know me.

Maggie

2011-11-07T12:12:00.000-05:00

I miss being with you.

I miss everything about you.

I miss your joyous laugh, and your many smiles.

I wish I could be there with you.

We must continue to love across these miles.

I enjoyed our times together.

Those days I’ll not forget. Never.

Do you remember the promise we made;

To be friends forever and ever.

Maggie, I now make a new promise.

I will always be there for you.

At least in spirit if not in person.

No matter what troubles ensue.

Who Is It?

2011-11-04T12:12:00.000-04:00

I was flipping through a desk drawer the other day and found this drawing I had done probably a good tens years ago by now. It has gotten a good crease in it but I moved it to my portfolio of drawings so hopefully in time the crease will settle. Anyhow, it was a sketch I did of a particular person see if you can guess who it is?

The Breeze Was Salty and Cleansing

2011-11-02T12:12:00.000-04:00

The breeze was salty and cleansing. I’ve alwaysthought the sea’s breeze and the smell of my cigarettes have always mixedwell. As if they were made for eachother just like peanut butter and jelly. The sound of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World!” was loud enoughto drown out the waves of the Atlantic. I’ve always loved this song although I don’tknow why it goes against all I believe about this world. But I guess Louis was one of the greatoptimist of our times.

I've been thinking morethan usual lately about my life and what I've come to stand for I've askedmyself all the normal questions. What is the first thing someone thinks of whenthey hear my name? Is it my sexualorientation? Is it my worthlessness? What? Why? Would anyone even bothershowing for my funeral? I've tried to conjure the answers to these questionsbut none are forthcoming.

I believe the reason formy loneliness is my own fault. I don’tlove myself. If I can’t love me how the fuck can I expect other to? And due to this discovery I’ve made a choicethat is irreversible.

I rose out of my chair Ihad been sitting on for the past 2 hours. The chair on my 20 story porch. Iwalked to the CD player and pressed the repeat button as well as turned up thevolume. Louis started again. I walked tothe rail that held people, pets, and things in. I placed my right foot on thebottom rail and pulled my left foot and myself to the top rail. I balanced myself. Then spent a moment to take in and savor thesea breeze for one last time. Then I leaned forward into nothingness.

Untitled Painting - October 2011

2011-10-31T12:12:00.001-04:00

This weekend was dreary. All day Saturday was overcast and even though I opened all the windows to let the cool breeze through it was down right depressing. Of course, it could be the Chantix, but I'll blame it on the clouds. Anyhow, it was so dreary I went to the room in our house that plays multiple duties as an office, studio, guest room, you name it. I turned on all the lights and filled my palette with paint and didn't get up till I had finished this. I guess the lack of color in the skies outside inspired a canvas full of colors inside.

WWTJD

2011-10-28T12:12:00.001-04:00

Remember the bracelet people were wearing with the initials WWJD standing for What Would Jesus Do. Well I think we should one up it and add a T to it, making it What Would Thomas Jefferson Do. Then we make it law that our congressmen must wear them. Perhaps then they will get off of their asses and actually accomplish something good for this country.

Although I don't believe a bracelet alone would work. Of course to insure it works we could have them made like a dogs shock collar and have it set up to shock them each time they try to leave the Capitol Building before the job is done. After all, they have a job to do, and they were hired to do this job. But, I am afraid the majority of them don't have a clue what their job is. If anything Thomas Jefferson understood the job. He knew what was required and expected of him.

But statesmen today don't even qualify to be called statesmen. They fit the bill as politicians. They stay politico all the time. They never lose the campaign face, and don the hat of the statesman. They don't deserve to be called statesman; nor do they deserve re-election. They need to take a few lessons from Thomas Jefferson and we could help them remember these lessons by making them wear a WWTJD bracelet that shocks their asses until they earn the respect of the title statesman.

Paris in April of 1994

2011-10-26T12:12:00.000-04:00

Eiffel Tower From The Seine - April 1994

I was flipping through some old photos the other day and came across this photo. I took it on the last day of my very first trip to France. I had been on a whirlwind trip through France. From Paris we - a bus load of students - had gone to the Loire Valley, through Tours and onto Le Mans, to Normandy and back to Paris over the course of two weeks. On the final night of our stay we took a dinner cruise on the Bateaux Mouches. And on the Seine that night I snapped the above picture. Although it is digital now. What I really like about this picture is that I have the original that as you can tell from the scanned image above is quite worn, it has that antique feel to it. It brings back memories more than an image on a screen does. This isn't my best photo of the Eiffel Tower, but it is by far my favorite.

Tomoka State Park

2011-10-24T12:12:00.000-04:00

Tomoka State Park

I enjoyed taking this panorama of Tomoka State Park. The entire process was fun and relaxing. It started with a slow drive up A1A on a Sunday afternoon. I went to this trail that I like visiting there. It is so secluded and calm. There is a nice wooden deck that extends over the marsh and beside the deck lies this dead tree. It is a relaxing spot to visit. The birds chirp, the leaves rustle, the frogs croak, it is nature at it's best. I had remember to bring my digital camera with me on this particular day and I filled a memory card with pictures. I then spent the evening with the pictures and my computer until I had assembled this panorama. I was really impressed with the detail that came out in this picture. I also have painted this panorama on six 12" x 12" canvases. I tell myself I am done with the painting yet I still seem to put them on the easel and add more details. I don't know that I will ever truly be happy with the painting. Probably because I vested so much into the photo and canvas will never show it in it's truest details. You can view a photo of the painting here.

Abortion

2011-10-23T12:12:00.000-04:00

I have finally reached a decision on where I stand on abortion. I have batted it around in my head for years, never really being able to say whether I was pro-life or pro-choice. Well, I am proud to say I have decided I am both. I am pro-life in the case of prenatal abortions except when the mothers life is in danger. I am pro-choice in the case of postnatal abortions up to the age of 18 when the little fuckers just can't figure out English grammar and spelling.

Plane Trees

2011-10-21T12:12:00.086-04:00

Just a couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the painting I had done of the Chateau Chenonceau. I had written about the plane tree lined avenue approaching the chateau (Pictured Above) and how much that inspired me. I also wrote on how the tree's really take up the painting and not the chateau; and I wrote more in general which you can read here. Lest I digress, I shall get to my point. I was reading just the other night this story on the BBC about the Plane Trees in Europe having a fungal disease. Ironically, the disease was introduced in France by the wooden munition boxes carried over by the United States' soldiers during WWII.

The article really saddened me in a way. It bothers me that the planet is losing more trees but also that these are trees hundreds of years old. When I read stories like this one I tend to wish that there was something that I could do to change it. Often, though that is a task too large for one man. They often seem to need the power of God to change. I really don't have the time to sit here and pontificate on what we should do, to me it is just sad that we are not already doing more to stop it. After all this is our only planet, we have not found another planet close enough to be our second chance, yet.

The bright side of the story though, is that they are replanting them with, even more ironically, Plane trees from Mississippi that are immune to the disease. So, at least I know that the next I make it across the pond the streets and avenues of Europe will still be lined with beautiful trees.

Occupy Protests

2011-10-19T12:12:00.023-04:00

I can't say that I necessarily agree with everything this group of protesters stand for, but what I can say is that I am happy to see people getting off their asses and doing something about what they believe in. It has been quite a while since any group has stood up like they have, kudos to them. It is truly refreshing to see Americans taking to the streets and speaking their heart, souls, and minds.

Each generation of Americans it seems has had their movements, there were the Civil Rights Movement, for those older than I. But for my generation, there hasn't been a true movement to define it. Not that a movement is needed to define a generation, it's just that without it we seem like do-nothings.

I can't remember a time I have been to Europe when some group wasn't protesting something. I not saying that we should be as quick as the Europeans are to take to the streets, but if we don't do it at some point, what purpose does it serve.

Cathedrale Notre Dame de Chartres

2011-10-17T12:12:00.002-04:00

The first time I visited France, I had the luck of being able to visit one of the most beautiful cathedrals in Europe, La Cathedrale Notre Dame de Chartres. And the last time I was in France, I made it a point to revisit this monument. Driving along the A11 from Paris, my heart raced with anticipation as the spires of this masterpiece rose on the horizon. It is such a sight to see the Cathedral up close and personal, but to me it is the view of it from afar, that is remarkable. That is why I chose a picture I had taken of the Cathedral from road as the model for the painting below.

The cathedral's construction started in the 1100's, although on the site of other cathedrals dating back to the 300's, it was completed in 1260. It is a bigger than life representation of Gothic architecture. It is best seen on a bright sunny day. The light illuminates the original stained glass windows, windows so priceless the resistance removed them during World War II and hid them away and re-installed them afterwards. But more than the stained glass, this cathedral is adorned with countless religious sculptures. It also home to the Sancta Camisa, believed to the tunic of the Virgin Mary at the time of Christ's Birth.

Structures like this, hold a special place in my memory. Sure it is cool to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, or visit the newest, biggest aquarium, but something that was built over 700 years ago and still standing is to me the truest testament to the will of man. If only we had these types of monuments in the US, we as a people would realize how brief our lives truly are and how little or much we can really impact this world.

Priceless

2011-10-16T12:12:00.001-04:00

Round-trip Tickets from Orlando to Paris - $2400.00

Rental Car for Two Weeks - $500.00

Eating-Out each night - $1500.00

Museum Pass - $150.00

Picture of me in the Louvre (4700 miles from home) with my eyes shut - Priceless

Republican or Democrat?

2011-10-14T12:12:00.011-04:00

What a hard choice it must be for some people to chose a side. Are you a Republican? Are you a Democrat? Are you that way because your Dad is? Or perhaps your Mom is? Or is because as Lady Gaga says you "were born this way"? I have personally never chosen a side. Just recently when asked this question though I came to a very clear and concise decision - so I responded, "I am American." This response ignited a conversation between my friend and I that I think we all should have this upcoming year. My friend, who shall remain nameless, asked, "So is it un-American to be a Democrat or for that matter a Republican?"

I believe it is in fact un-American in this day and age. Look at what our country's party system has brought us. We are in the midst of very trying times economically and philosophically. Our elected Representatives and Senators are failing "We The People", by letting the party line rule the roost. They aren't working towards what's best for America. They are working for what's best for them. The first question that our leaders should be asking themselves is, "Is this legislation right for these United States of America and its People?" If the answer is a resounding "Yes," then vote for it. I, for one am sick and tired of watching the same elected talking heads repeating the party line year after year as our beloved country slides deeper and deeper into debt, recession, and God knows what other perils.

It is time that Congress and the President, hold up their end of the deal. If Our Founding Fathers were in office today, I would have the utmost confidence that within a few months all our major problems would be addressed and solved. Hell, it only took them 116 days of Convention to write Our Constitution! I doubt our leaders today could draft such a beautiful piece of legislation in their entire lifespan. And they have lifespans twice as long as Our Founding Fathers did. The real reason I would have complete confidence in the Founding Fathers versus our current government is that they were ordinary, hard working, men.

I can picture it in my mind. I can see Thomas Jefferson addressing an assembly of Our Founding Fathers. "Gentlemen, the country that we have so proudly built and fought for is in debt, it's citizens can't find work, and it's government has failed them." Jefferson goes on to list the many problems facing our country, while outside the sun sets. Those men would stay in that building day and night until the problems were resolved. They would have food brought to them, they would only nap for a few hours, and only when they had drafted the best piece of legislation that addressed our problems would they present it to the nation. If today's leaders were given this piece of legislation though I doubt it would get passed. It would die like all other good legislation does in this country because it would not follow a party line.

So what do I think we should do, I think we should force our leaders to do what Our Founding Fathers would do. They need to get their asses in session, and not leave the building be it 116 days or longer, until they have drafted legislation that addresses our country's problems. It would not be as beautiful as something Our Founding Fathers would draft, but even their constitution is still a work in process.

Memories of Yesterdays.

2011-10-12T12:12:00.004-04:00

The passings of the hourhand I spent sitting, laughing, crying

With you

Enjoying your being; memories of yesterdays.

The nights out on the town eating and

Drinking at restaurants new and old.

Soothing our hunger; memories of yesterdays.

Your performances onstage always putting my

Acting to shame.

Doing your best; memories of yesterdays.

Celebrating birthdays, holidays, or just

Our good lives.

Partying with you; memories of yesterdays.

Untitled Painting 1995

2011-10-10T12:12:00.000-04:00

I painted this in 1995. It isn't some place that really exists. It exists solely on canvas. I really was just experimenting with the sun and ocean interaction.

I guess growing up in Florida has impacted the many sunrises and sets I have enjoyed viewing over water. Though this painting is definitely no beach in Florida. I really am quite fond of this small painting. Unlike many of my others I would rather hold onto it for myself. This isn't the first painting I have done either there are others I did before this one, but of all my earlier paintings this is the one I like the best.

Sharp Dressed Man

2011-10-05T19:11:00.000-04:00

I may be wrong…but, there are times that I wish we all would dress up again. I don’t mean like superheros or divas. I mean like they used to in the 40s, 50’s, and even some of the 60’s. Ralph Cramden in The Honeymooners sitcom drove a bus for a living yet he still wore a suit and tie to work. I never really experienced that myself, being born in the 70s and growing up in the 80s and finally going to work in the 90s. By that time, only Wall Street workers wore suits and ties. I tell you I envy them. There was a time in my life when I hated wearing a tie. Having gone to a private school I had to wear a tie each and every Friday for Chapel and I hated it then. Now, however, I wish we all would dress up like they used to. There is just something about it that is empowering to my self esteem. I feel ten feet tall and like I could conquer the world when I wear a tie. I am almost completely sure it is the same for everyone else, again I may be wrong. I surmise that if we all started dressing up like they used to we would see our world around us change for the better. People of all walks of life should be given the freedom to dress up. If a bus driver in the 50’s went to work in a suit and tie why don’t bus drivers today. Please don’t get me wrong. I am not picking on just bus drivers. We all should. We have gotten away from dressing up and it has set us back. Just my opinion and I may be wrong…

I Dreamt I Was a Cloud

2011-10-05T12:12:00.002-04:00

I dreamt I was a cloud

Floating, wandering, lonesome.

From up so high I could

See the happenings below;

People going hither-tither,

And playing in the snow.

There were iceskaters and

Slopeskiers, walkers and dancers.

Everyone in the world

Was busy not caring.

Morosely I continued on

My eyes frantically searching.

Not one being did I see

Without another by his side.

Where I saw one there were

Always two. Yet up above was I

The lonesome voyager of the sky.

Chateau Chenonceau

2011-10-03T12:12:00.000-04:00

I visited Chenonceau for the first time back in the early 90s, but it was on my last visit that Curtis captured this picture of the plane tree lined avenue leading to the forecourt that inspired my painting at the end of this post.

The forecourt opens up into this magnificent view of Chenonceau. Curtis also captured that with the following picture and yes that's me in the lower left corner.

The Chateau Chenonceau built in the 16th Century is a great place to visit when passing through the Loire Valley and not just for the wine. Though the wine too is great. The Chateau is in incredible condition. My favorite part is the two-story Gallery that bridges the river. And there I am again in the first story of the gallery. Though it would really be awesome to be have been in that gallery when there was a royal ball wouldn't you agree?

Chenonceau is one of the best examples of what us humans can do. It amazes me to think that these structures were built without the aid of the heavy machinery we have now. They were built by callus covered hands. Hands that worked endlessly shaping the stones and mixing the mortar. Yet these hand built structures are still standing hundreds of years later. Chenonceau doesn't really need me to immortalize it's buildings on paint and canvas, but those plane trees that line the avenue just really inspired me. I think it is the awesome feeling one gets when they near the end of that peaceful walk and that beautiful Chateau opens it's courtyard to your amazement. The gardens and mazes all add the beauty but it all starts on this simple path.

October 2, 2011 - Not Summer Has Begun.

2011-10-02T16:38:00.000-04:00

Today has been one of the best days of the year. I had turned off the ac and opened the windows last night and when I awoke this morning the temperature was down to the mid-fifties. What a relief. Summer is finally breaking here in Florida and we are starting our second season of the year or as the rest of you call it (Autumn, Winter, and Spring). I truly believe we in Florida need to come up with another name for this second season. Yeah, I know it is three seasons everywhere else above the tropics but, we really only have two seasons here - Summer and Not Summer. And Not Summer has finally begun.

It is so nice to be able to open the house and let the sea breeze drift through. It was nice enough that I even started cleaning out my garage after a summer of unbearable heat. It was so nice outside that I haven't picked up a paint brush all day. And I really need to paint some. I have ten or so paintings just lying around half way completed. Perhaps later this week I will get to paint, but for right now I am going to enjoy this nice weather with a few drinks on the front porch.

Attention all spammers...

2011-09-29T22:05:00.000-04:00

If you are a spammer please read this. Please read it with your undivided attention. The type of attention that you wish I would (or by the time your done reading this) wish I wouldn't read your junk email with. To begin, I do Not need to purchase Viagra. I really don't. I am in a seven year relationship and can barely get satisfaction as it is, me taking Viagra would be like feeding Zantrex to the poor children of Somolia. So please don't send me your emails advertising cheap Viagra. This actually goes to any of you spammers filling my inbox with offers of cheap medications of any type.

As for you foreign ignoramus that think you can fool me into sending you money to claim more money in return to help your poorly departed loved ones estate. I have a couple of things to say to you, first off if you are going to ask for American Dollars learn to speak proper American English. I know we as Americans - especially the younger generation - don't give you very good examples here on the net; but, it really truly pisses me off that you won't even set you spell check to English when emailing me. The second thing I have to say to you is F*@K OFF! Our economy is up shit's creek with out a paddle, and I know most of you are in a literal shit's creek, but when our economy is like it is we tighten up and become even greedier than you ever thought we could be.

In conclusion, I would like to just add a couple of comments to anyone who thinks that they may be able to fool a few people with a scam email. Know this you won't fool me. Also, know that you are far better off buying your email list based on demographics. Forget about hacking email addressing and instead find a marketing firm that will sell you email addresses of men over 50 to pitch your Viagra to. Buy an email list of blonds and tell them all kinds of crazy shit they'll beleive - I won't - but they will. And finally, set your spell checker software to English. Follow these few words of advice and odds are you'll become a more successful spammer.

I f**king love science...

2011-09-24T19:41:00.003-04:00

I was sitting here earlier this evening going through some old writings and journals and came to a few conclusions about myself. First, I must really fucking love science. I have outlined an entire anthology of some of the greatest scientific minds this world has ever known. I really do like the outline, introduction, and first few chapters I have written thus far. Of course they were written, a few years back. I had been searching for something to work on and this is the one I chose. Mind you that is one of the many unfinished documents I have stored on my hard-drive. Which brings me tangentially to another one of my other conclusions; I have written some really dark shit in the past. I mean really dark. So dark, it is reminiscent of a black hole in that it draws you in. It also makes one think what could possibly happen next. Not saying that is necessarily a bad thing. There is a large amount of it and I really am not in the mood to write something so dark. Which brings me to final conclusion; if it isn't about science, if it isn't dark, it is gay. Not gay in a bad way. Just really gay. The characters are gay, the theme is gay, or the sex is gay... with the exception of one other book that I had started, but it is my memories of the 2004 Hurricane Season and as it is told from my point of view it is also gay. Therefore after I finish writing some more of my science anthology which I have titled Roll On, Thou Ball, Roll On! I am going to start yet another story about a homosexual podiatrist whose foot fetish causes him to recommend and amputate many feet for his own satisfaction.

Je Promenais Dans La Foret

2011-09-22T22:00:00.001-04:00

Wrote this one long ago...

Je promenais dansle foret,

Mes yeux sur les étoiles.

En marchant, je pensais

Qu’il y apersonne pour moi.

Je rêve del’amoureux,

Que je ne peuxpas trouver.

Il est amusant etsérieux,

Mais il est toutcache.

En la distance jevois

Une forme sur laterre,

Dormait dans lebois.

Est-ce qu’il étaitmon cher?

Je l’approchaisavec retrait.

A chaque pas, jepenser

Et tous me doigtstremblait.

Ma vie avec luije veux passer.

Parisian Awakening

2011-09-21T22:11:00.002-04:00

Found this on my hard drive - can't remember when I wrote it....

If ever I could relive any one moment in time, I would choose to relive my first awakening in Paris. The excitement, the strangeness, and the smells were all new to me. This was my first trip out of the country. I had never really ventured far away from Florida. I had always dreamed of setting foot on French soil and now I finally was.

I had landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport the morning before with fifteen of my classmates. We were spending Spring Break in France. I was ecstatic! We spent the first day getting situated at our hotel and exploring the neighborhood around it.

Of all the sights and all the events that I experienced, the one that clearly sticks in my mind is that first morning I awoke. I was completely refreshed, unmindful of the long flight the day before. I had chosen to sleep with my hotel room window open, and to this very day, I can still smell the air of that spring morning. The scent of the freshly baked baguettes and pastries from the patisserie across the street wafted into the room. The scent of the bakery was followed by the aroma of ripe bananas, apples, and oranges, being sold in the fruit stand below my window, and topping these off the perfumed air of the early blooms of the impatiens found their way to my room.

I lay in bed inhaling their fragrance and savoring the joy of know I was finally in the city I had desired to visit at least once in my lifetime. I read the time on my travel clock and saw I had enough time to make it to the complimentary breakfast. After getting dressed, I approached my open window for a quick look at the city outside. The view was one that I have never experienced and will forever remain imprinted in my mind. The Old World ambiance was painted orange by the early morning sun. In the distance, the New World skyscrapers contrasted sharply with the historical architecture. The Old World melting into new is a sight never witnessed by most Americans, only those who have voyaged to Europe. My eyes controlled me. They held me firmly planted, but my stomach protested and won over my feet. So, to the dining room I headed. When I arrived in the dining room I found most of my friends with the same sheepish smirks on their faces as the one I wore. We dined on hot, flaky, buttery croissants and raspberry preserves, with steaming mugs of café chocolats.

What happened after awakening that morning? My memories escape me. I would have to consult my journal to be sure. All the events and sights have been lost to my mind. Although, I have since returned to the City of Lights many times and spent many mornings, none of them can compare to the first. In my mind’s eye, there will only be that first morning.

I wish all the people of the New World could have the chance to awaken to a Parisian Spring Morning. For only then would everyone have at least one truly joyous memory, a memory they too could wish to relive, as I do.

Not So Stranger

2011-09-21T21:57:00.003-04:00

Short-story I wrote many moons ago...

The day had begun just like any other day of my miserable existence. Awaken at 6:00 be at work by 7:30. But little did I know this was the day my world would crumble as Napoleon’s had at Waterloo.

When I thought my life was shitty I found out it could get worse. I had arrived at work in my normal pessimistic, screw-the-world attitude and all seemed on pace. That was until my pointy-nosed employer informed me of my immediate dismissal without a dime of severance pay. Apparently I didn’t have the most winning attitude in the firm and there isn’t space for a realistic failure amongst them. Well, fuck them.

That is my feelings for everybody. So now I find myself seated in this smoke and clatter filled bar. Drinking away my life’s savings on Early Times Whiskey. The establishment isn’t all that bad. It’s like any other hole-in-the-wall joint owned by another fatuous Irishman. I don’t have a clue as to how long I’ve been seated here. But it’s two in the morning now. Last call won’t be for another couple hours and thankfully I’ll be able to run a tab.

The door opposite the bar opens and washes the most odiferous feces from the cesspool we call the world. And where does this protein-based shit decide to sit? Next to me of course. I can smell the vagaries of life upon him, the odors of rigor mortis on his breath. As if my day wasn’t bad enough I have to smell this, the poorest example of sentience known to man.

The bartender ignores him. How? I don’t know, but the why, I am sure I have figured out. As I look around I see everyone’s ignoring him, all but me. I chose to talk to him, “So, how’s life fucking you?”

He replies with nothing more than a malodorous sigh. I should stop now but being more stubborn than a lobotomized ass, I press on. “Do you have a name?” I ask.

Amazingly he speaks, “I am not. So therefore I have no name. When I was, I did.”

“Well if you don’t exist who or what the fuck are you?” I continue. “And why can I see you?”

“I am the bearer of death. And you shall not see me for much longer.” He says as the works reek of raw meat.

“Why? Are you leaving?”

“Yes, and you shall take my place and you in turn will choose someone to take your place. After which I don’t know what will happen.”

“Well, if I’m to take your place wouldn’t I also have to be dead?” I ponder aloud.

“You are already.” With these words he points with crooked fingers at the floor behind me. I swivel the barstool so as to look at the space he has drawn to my attention.

Lying on the floor is my body. There seems to be more commotion than normal for this hellhole. The bartender is speaking hurriedly and inaudibly to me at this distance into the telephone. Other dregs of society are forming a circle about my lifeless body. I swivel back around to address the Not-So-Stranger only to discover he is gone. The door hadn’t opened so he didn’t leave out the front; but then again it probably never actually opened the door when he entered. He is nowhere to be seen.

The scene is becoming too much to bear so I choose to leave the old Irishmen’s bar. No one has taken notice of me just as they hadn’t taken notice of my visitor. They cannot see me. They are all hypocrites never showing any care for me, not until I died. Well, fuck them.

Outside is deserted. The sole sound is that of the approaching sirens. The ambulance is racing but they are too late. They cannot help me, but there has to be somebody who can. I think as diligently as Einstein, on who my savior may be. There has to be at least one person on this spinning garbage heap called earth, who can help me.

The ambulance has just arrived at the scene giving me hope, but not because of anything they can do. It’s because of what the flasher on top of their vehicle reveals. The red lights expose at an intermittent interval the cross, on the spire, of the Catholic Church, the next block over. If anybody knows about the afterlife, I am sure the priest will.

I hastily make my way to the church. Upon arrival I discover the place is deserted I guess Godly people don’t stay out late. Has something changed since the birth of Christ Jesus, the savior of us despicable, oxygen breathing scum? Wasn’t he born at night? What is it with these people? Why are they always so fucking happy? Are they all taking drugs? It must be something they put in their “blood of Christ” at communion.

I circle to the back of the church, where sets a parsonage. And what do I see? A fucking miracle. A nocturnal Christian is sitting at a desk at 2:30 in the morning. Maybe I should call the paper and inform them of this rare behavior, of this Catholic priest. No, they can’t hear me. I make my way to his door.

Out of habit, I knock on the solid wood door. Surprisingly the priest answers. The light from the foyer shows through the doorway, illuminating my haggard frame. The luminescence blinds me for a few moments, until my brain and eyes adjust to the brightness.

The priest stands before me, in his holier than thou clerical collar. He is a short, dumpy specimen of the Roman Catholic Church. His nose is reddened no doubt by the holy wine of which I am positive he has been imbibing. He crinkles his features as I had at the sight of my fatal visitor. I, myself, can smell nothing amiss, yet he apparently does. He speaks in a slurred speech, with a slight hint of an Eastern European accent. “May I help you my son?”

His noticing me astounds me. My voice stammers, “Y-you c-can see me?”

“Why of course, my son. Now is there some reason for your late night visit?”

“Yes Father, I am afraid I have died,” he starts to speak, but as usual my mouth continues, as if without assistance of my drunken brain, “Please, allow me continue Father, then you can tell me what to do. I lost my job working for an overfed, tight-ass, penny-pinching prick today. So, I went to a local bar to have a few drinks. After being thoroughly soaked to the bone, a smelly man, well, I could say man, but this wasn’t a man this person was a dung heap with arms and legs. Anyway, he entered the bar, sat beside me, and told me I was dead and I would take his place and choose the next person to die. Then, I saw my body lying on the floor, so I left and came here. As to what became of the man who called himself “the bearer of death,” I don’t know, because while I was looking at the death-filled form of myself he disappeared. Father, I don’t want to die you must help me. Can you?”

At my final words, the priest motions me into the house, but as he turns around he becomes stiff like a statue. On the floor, at his feet, lies his own corpse, never to walk again.

Finally, he speaks, “Well son, I’d say you have made you choice. And it’s just my fucking luck that you chose me. I do believe there is nothing I can do to help.”

But Father, you….” My words trail off, never to be uttered. The bright light rapidly dims before my eyes, all around me is becoming blurred, at this moment, I am be surrounded by a thick suffocating blackness. I no longer have feeling in my hands, feet, or for that matter anywhere. My senses are gone.

I tell you now I once believed life was the worst punishment we had to endure, but I tell you now life is great; it is death that is unbearably, unforgivingly fucked up.

New Post's

2011-09-21T21:23:00.002-04:00

So, I just did a little cleaning up of my blog and just updated photos, deleted some posts, and other minor details. Anyhow, I wanted to fill in some content so beginning today I will start posting some journal entries I have made over the years. Note that I will post them by the date they were written not the day I added them to my blog. I hope you enjoy.

The Wilford family of 18 knew Mandarin before it was developed | Jacksonville.com

2010-01-16T08:46:00.000-05:00

The Wilford family of 18 knew Mandarin before it was developed | Jacksonville.com

July 9, 2009

2009-07-29T12:12:00.000-04:00

Why can't we harness lightning? It seems to me that there is a lot of lightning in Central Florida and on a regular basis in a general area. Why can't we harvest the lightning potential from a storm before it becomes a bolt from the sky and power our homes with the electricity God gave us? I am convinced a design could be made to harness the electric charge of Florida's storms to power the entire state.

September 3, 2006

2006-09-03T12:12:00.002-04:00

There has been more on my mind in the past few months than what is normal for me. I have so many things that I want to accomplish however, they all seem so far away. I really need to buckle down and get them done. I just don’t seem to have the free time to do so. I have really enjoyed being with Curtis and hope that that never ends. And if things keep going the way they are it will last for eternity. There are so few in my life that I click with the way he and I do.

Work has been different. I have been in a slump and have been trying to get myself out of it. The past 3 days however have been quite well.

I wish I had time to continue writing tonight but Curtis is due here any minute and there is still a lot to do in the house….

May 15, 1997 - The Forever Journey

1997-05-15T12:12:00.000-04:00

The Forever Journey

I journey through theuninterrupted

Silence of the night.

Slowly calmly walkingtowards

My unknowndestination.

Looking down I amstunned to

See someone elsesfootsteps.

Curiously I followthem,

Unknowing their path

LOOK! Up ahead! There!That

Someone lies,unmoving, undisturbed.

As I approach him, I

Notice he is about myage.

He is beautiful;silence,

Disturbed only by the

Faint sound of ourbreath.

I step, SNAPPING abranch,

He is awakened;brought

Back from his dreams.

He stares unsure, bewildered;

“Who is he thatstands

here looking at me?”

I greet him politely,he the

Same. He commences to

Tell me his lifestory.

Ending on how hearrived

Here, sleeping onthis

Deserted pathway.

I then told him myhistory

Also ending on this

Pathway of strangers.

He arose to his feet,took my

Hand in his, andtogether,

Forever, we continuedour journey.

September 9, 1996

1996-09-09T12:12:00.001-04:00

Ce jour c’etait bien. J’ai fais rien d’importance. J’ai pratique le piece de theatre et j’ai travaille. J’ai aussi joue des billards avec Chris et Brandon. Tous les deux sent mes amis plus important. Sans Brandon, je me suis suicidier. De les deux je crois que Brandon est l’ami que j’aime le plus. J’ai pas fais beaucoup et comme normal j’ai pas mange beaucoup. Mais je vais bien.

July 5, 1995

1995-07-05T12:12:00.003-04:00

Today we arrived in Iceland. We were there for only two hours. The it was off to Luxemburg. We arrived at 1:00 pm. Mrs. Parsons and Mr. Vincourt met us at the airport. We took a bus from Luxemburg to Reims, stopping only twice, once in the city of Luxemburg and again between cities to eat sandwiches made by one of the French parents. We made it to Reims at 5:30 pm. The Muntz were there waiting for me at the school. They were all very welcoming and pleasant. As soon as possible we left for their amazingly large house. Once home, I was given a tour of the house and garden. I was given a while to get settled in. After having showered and putting away my clothes, we ate dinner - a delicious salmon quiche for the main course, followed by salad, cheese, and peaches. We talked about a variety of things. I then went to bed as I was wiped out from jet lag.

March 20, 1994

1994-03-20T21:46:00.001-05:00

Today I went to Tampa with Aunt Kathy, to clean Deanna’s apartment. We had breakfast at Steak and Shake. After eating we went to the bookstore where she bought me this journal, which I plan to write in till out of pages, then I will buy another to fill up. I will do this to the day I die. We then discussed the outline of the children books we plan on writing. Later on, we cleaned Deanna’s and Rene’s filthy bathroom which took us about 2 hours. We took a break about two o’clock and ate a turkey sandwich which we greatly enjoyed. We talked about things we would like to do in the future. Things like I wanting to go to college in France and her getting in computer engineering. After finishing Deanna’s apartment we grilled some steaks and ate them. When finished I started watching Star Trek Deep Space Nine on television while Aunt Kathy started making balloon animals by the of a couple of books we got at the bookstore earlier that day. At 9:00 we left to pick Rene and Deanna up from the airport. 10:16 the flight arrived and we met them and picked up their baggage. We left the airport at ten of eleven and I got home at 11:45. I then read a little then slept.

March 3, 1977

1977-03-03T12:12:00.019-05:00

I must admit I don't remember a thing at all from this day. It was after the day I was born. What I know comes from the book my mother kept. I know I was born weighing in at 7 pounds 8 ounces and a certain Dr. Roberson delivered me.