Click above to see a fake commercial that these guys
I've been working with and learning a little bit about
video production just made. It's pretty darned funny.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Friday, May 04, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
House Hunting
The market is down, and there's lots of frowns. But we keep on looking. Looking for a house that's affordable, adorable and almost livable.
American dream, apple pie, white picket fence, and all. For all. Their are open houses all around town. Everywhere you look, homes are for sale. Balloons are a flyin. The reports have started tricklin. About adjustable mortgages adjusting thousands of incomes and weighing heavily on their outcomes of life, liberty, and the pursuit of their realities.
As the flag keeps on flying, as our kids keep on dying in the same old foreign lands. While walking on the same old burning sands. As their oil stained caskets get shipped back across the ocean. Back to their mother's land.
Even with all this confusion, a fusion, I'm still wanting in. I'm still wanting to have a place where we can plant our own seed. Where the children grow like weeds. Where I can plant my family crest and do my very best to be an honorable man. And try my very best to be a good example for the little ones around. But for now, I'll just keep looking in town.
American dream, apple pie, white picket fence, and all. For all. Their are open houses all around town. Everywhere you look, homes are for sale. Balloons are a flyin. The reports have started tricklin. About adjustable mortgages adjusting thousands of incomes and weighing heavily on their outcomes of life, liberty, and the pursuit of their realities.
As the flag keeps on flying, as our kids keep on dying in the same old foreign lands. While walking on the same old burning sands. As their oil stained caskets get shipped back across the ocean. Back to their mother's land.
Even with all this confusion, a fusion, I'm still wanting in. I'm still wanting to have a place where we can plant our own seed. Where the children grow like weeds. Where I can plant my family crest and do my very best to be an honorable man. And try my very best to be a good example for the little ones around. But for now, I'll just keep looking in town.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Blackbird Hour
They performed at Proud Larry's in Oxford last night
and I took a few photos . . .
Listen to "Careful Love" and "The Last Time"
on their MySpace profile.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Apology
Clean eating. Clean drinking. Water. I apologize for my past behavior. I apologize for my rants and negativity. Into thee. I have such passion. A lasting. It keeps me motivated, and associated. Competitive in nature. I have become a bully. Praying on the week. And dishing out judgement and I'm tired of such activity with it's ferocity.
Teacher, I apologize for my outburst in class. I apologize for not raising my hand before speaking. I apologize for looking at you and silently judging. I apologize for talking about you behind your back. I apologize for looking at your life's work and snickering inside. I apologize for I have no right to. No fight to. And I give up.
What step am I on? The step where I wake up and realize I have been an asshole many times and have not known it. I have left dirty messages. Wondered why things couldn't be better. Why? Everyone is trying their best. Who am I to judge? Who am I to fudge on common courtesy? I am tired of dishing out negative synergy. I am tired of thinking I know best. I am tired of forming an opinion on everything. I am tired of trying to back it up.
I want to be involved in flow. Surround myself with those who are not struggling against the current. Surround myself with those who have given up and have let the stream take them. Surround myself with positivity. With friends who are not out to get anything from me. And in return be that friend to thee. This is my apology.
Teacher, I apologize for my outburst in class. I apologize for not raising my hand before speaking. I apologize for looking at you and silently judging. I apologize for talking about you behind your back. I apologize for looking at your life's work and snickering inside. I apologize for I have no right to. No fight to. And I give up.
What step am I on? The step where I wake up and realize I have been an asshole many times and have not known it. I have left dirty messages. Wondered why things couldn't be better. Why? Everyone is trying their best. Who am I to judge? Who am I to fudge on common courtesy? I am tired of dishing out negative synergy. I am tired of thinking I know best. I am tired of forming an opinion on everything. I am tired of trying to back it up.
I want to be involved in flow. Surround myself with those who are not struggling against the current. Surround myself with those who have given up and have let the stream take them. Surround myself with positivity. With friends who are not out to get anything from me. And in return be that friend to thee. This is my apology.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Post-Katrina Photography Series
On Friday, June 9, 2006, I posted a series of photographs taken along the Mississippi Gulf Coast. At that time, it had been nine months since Hurricane Katrina made landfall in Waveland, Mississippi, laying waste to the homes and communities in her path.
It has now been sixteen months since that destruction and, lest we forget, much remains to be done. Recovery from a disaster of this magnitude does not occur in a matter of months or, possibly, even years. Will it take decades? An entire generation? Who can say for certain?
These photographs are installment two in this on-going series.
It has now been sixteen months since that destruction and, lest we forget, much remains to be done. Recovery from a disaster of this magnitude does not occur in a matter of months or, possibly, even years. Will it take decades? An entire generation? Who can say for certain?
These photographs are installment two in this on-going series.
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