Writing.

blue, like a crayon, like a wet paint brush, like spilled food coloring on the counter. Except none of those can compare because all of those are feeble attempts to recreate the deep, vast, blue expanse that is the sky. no matter how concentrated you stare at the sky you never really see its true color. which can probably be said about many things.

its weird, how superficial everything can feel when you have no required set of commitments to live up to. instead, just on the outside of everything, you can observe and learn just by simply watching.

scatter shot, its how my brain is working.

its hard to comprehend how people can get so bent out of shape over simple things. like witnessing a person throw a 400 dollar cell phone on the asphalt of a parking lot because there was no 4G reception.

or similarly, that 'i-just-peed-my-pants' feeling after yelling at a store clerk cause they double charged you on a $1.99 item. all this pent up aggression, its like a looming cloud ready to unleash its fury of lightning.  What For?

i dont know if it is a twenty something-year-old phase, but i wish i lived in a utopia. where there was a general understanding that if you didn't die that day, from the millions of ways a person could randomly die, then there isnt really anything else to get upset about. like having the understanding that living for the experience not the expectation is the much better of the two.

it all seems superfluous if a person cant truly feel that moment of tantrum during a midnight shopping spree, racing to get the last tickle me elmo and instead is only concentrated on what their receipt tells them in the morning. because when they walk away, all they really have are bags full of shit that will eventually get thrown out. but they will always have that experience.

i guess im just tired of being a part of the never-ending cycle that is paycheck-->spend-->work-->paycheck. i wanna go build a log cabin in some unexplored mountain range with a beautiful woman and become the epitome of what would happen if a mountain man and a tye-dye hippie fusioned like Vegeta and Goku in Dragon Ball Z to form Gogeta.

A Salty road trip

Four Corners

Sunset

Sunrise

More rising

La Grande Canyon

the sky is also grand

I love lamp

Dear oh deer

what fatty mcfattersons

rocks

neat tree

how does it grow?

Colorado River

wild purple flowers

green bush

twisty wood

the illusive big horn

Zion National Park

tis super pretty

turing red at night

little river

big canyon

Great Salt Lake Salt flats

salty sunset

Salty Vastness

(untitled)

yrteop

its hits like 
an egg on cement
from 30 stories up
takes your breath away 
slowly
like a house fire
it cuts deep
not like a knife
but a deafening cold
chilling you 
in the depths of bone
when it strikes
like lightening
you can't help 
but to wait
for it to strike again
holding your breath
you wait
to take the plunge
like a free fall
but not to the unknown
you fall in to a trance 
of hope 
that you can capture 
and loop that single moment
into a forever 
existence
as if an immovable object 
and unstoppable force
agreed that 
gravity 
never existed, 
a blink
a second glance 
leaves a wonder 
if they felt the
same

Smokey Sunset

 Red spot

 No Clouds, all smoke

 creep on creepin'

 S'more smokey

 way to smokey

 Artsy fartsy editing

 bye

Oregon on Fire

 Brake Lights

 Lightning

 On a Hill

Grainy 

pretty close

Lost Oregon

 Missed sunset

 Sunrise Highway

 Never ending train

 Oregon Farms

Rafting River 

 Old Bridge 

 Sky

 Canyon

 Arches

 Long Fall

New Bridge

Bacon

Seeing people you once knew but dont really know anymore is kind of a weird experience. but then again so can seeing people you see everyday. its really just context. 

so i am back to living where i did a while ago. its pretty much the same. but the people are different. same with me. but to an extent i guess that doesnt really matter. it's just the kind of effect how changed a person is that determines if it truly means anything. like a person could leave home to a restaurant with out their family eat and come home and not need dinner anymore, but their family still would. in the end though, they all ate.  

its kind of that for me. learning how to be sensitive to how hungry people are is the hard part. 

~ just a point of interest for anyone who smokes wishes to smoke or has smoked, it is very hard to quit. its not just the nicotine either. its more of the habit that makes it difficult. i guess they could make a new mental disease like restless leg syndrome and call it restless smoker hand syndrome and make up some crazy drug that is really just a placebo. make billions while helping people quit. ... oh, wait. 

bacon and eggs are really good. i probably cook that the most. but my menu is a sparse two item list so thats not saying much. but what is so amazing about bacon and eggs is that you can't exactly screw it up. even if you cant crack an egg properly, you never really notice if there is shell in an egg. and its not even that bacon and eggs taste that good, its the simple salty, burnt, meaty smell that engulfs the whole house after a plate of bacon is cooked up. I'm not totally sure how Mr. Bacon invented bacon, but i thank him. 

job hunting is kind of an adventure. there are times when your stressed, times when your happy, times when you seem kind of lost and times when nothing really makes sense. which doesnt make sense because you always end up with the same thing, even if you don't get the job you want, you end up with a group of people you tolerate doing something you can tolerate doing for ten hours a day for a tolerable amount of compensation. it would make more sense if a person could be more tolerable of their emotions when seeking employment. 

coming home also has this other aspect which has confounded me, and that is loneliness. not a bad kind of loneliness, but the kind of feeling you get when you start hanging out with a new group of people and you still dont quite know anyone but they still want you around. but your still lonely cause they are still pretty much strangers. 

i miss music, i miss doing something during the day, i miss the friends i made, i miss the beach, but im back in a place that i missed when i had all of those things. one thing i still miss  from home is the mountains, the forest, the solitude of listening to wind sing through pine needle twenty feet above your head, how fresh the air feels, how crisp everything operates. but that is a simple fix, one that takes a couple hours to fix. i just need my car. 

i think what brought me back to oregon hasn't shown itself to me. but all i know is that i can say i feel joyful to be back. which makes everything good. i dont really know what it is either. 

Central Oregonian

It's Good to be home. 

Now, all i need is a job.

 Jakey

 Sprinkles

 Sailor Man

Home 

 Hammock

 Sunny Rocks

 Bendy River

 White Sky

 Rough wood

Smith's Rocks