Frêsh Fish

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Yellow Splendor

And with his best colors he was happy. Bristled brush to paint he put. It eased his heart and soul and his spirit soared. The scent of the paints and the ease with which it spread. A rose, a rose, he must paint a rose, a rose with each petal perfect.

And I won't forget to put dead roses on your grave

Yellow Bliss

His hand shook just a bit. He knew he was near something good, something twixt. It had taken him a while to get here, but he sensed that here is where he would make his stand. Each beat of his heart told him that now was the time. He walked among the gods and was feeling very proud. Inhale, exhale, breathing, all the while heart pounding, and in his brain he heard the songs of angels cooing.

© 2005 big box industires

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Snap Dragon

My nephew, KR, was over at the house today, so much life, so much potential energy. We did a slide show of some of my most recent snaps and then as a ruse, a canard, a pallor trick, I showed him how you can alter a snap in many ways. He liked this one. We did this and that and whatever to it. All the while KR was saying, “Do it again.”

This year I had the most wondrous snap dragons.  Yes i was enchanted.

Snapped Out

No this is not how far we went, this is where we started.

© 2005 big box industries

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Beau Rivage

Last week I did the Beau Rivage in Biloxi, MS. I did get spanked for about $500 but I was doing it big and having a good time.

Plum did a wonderful job of snapping me out here.  She has innate photographic skills and one day, if she practices, is going to do great things.

All This & Heaven Too

This is actually a composite of two different snaps.

Where The Big Dogs Play

© 2005 big box industries

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Frêsh Fish

I try to keep it fly. I try to keep it frêsh. No last weeks or the year before. There is always a stench to that which has aged and I don’t want to be stinking up the place. But the real reason I don’t go back and dig through yesterday’s shit isn’t the smell, the real reason is that I am so memento, I really can’t remember. The intensity of the moment is gone, the vividness, the energy, the frêsh, now sucked a little dry, vapid and limp.

Shiny and quick but now to forgotten.


But every now and then you are going to have to cut me a little slack. Every now and then I will have to step back and conjure, bringing up something from the past. Every now and then I will have to bring forth something that is past its prime. I need to do it not for you but for me. I need to do it because I am so memento. I need to do it because I need help remembering.

© 2005 big box industries

Monday, May 09, 2005


For some reason Foxfire does not support alt tags.

Some Think it White But We Know it Red

"Excellently observed," answered Candide; "but let us cultivate our garden."

And one of the queries always asked the initiate into the 3rd circle – inner order is, “What was Voltaire’s first name?”

I was up early with the chirping of the birds and the dancing, dancing, dancing so prutty, beams of the sun. I was up early this morning cultivating my garden.

I feed my roses coffee grounds and they love me.

And From the Darkness Beauty

© 2005 big box industries