In the Hot Seat

I stumbled upon this scene of a burning truck seat several years ago at a dump in the Canadian Arctic, outside a small village, far north of tree line. I stopped to watch the orange ball of fire and black smoke and took a few photos.

Let It Speak

Basement moisture strangulation, food belly situation, it’s time to smile. Instead of grumbling about the situation, welcome the experience. Let it speak. Don’t turn away from insistent sensations, muttering apparitions, weeping spirits, jealous demons, hungry ghosts, you’re in one of those realms.

Art as Catalyst

Art could act as a catalyst to help one overcome deterministic imprisonment within one’s conditioned circumstances. Art, in so far as it involves opening of the heart and mind, embodies freedom. This type of art often presents unique or unusual images, which at first could baffle the viewer. Often the baffled viewer reacts with frustration and irritation, spurning the possibility to open up to something new.

Myth of the Golden Age

Sometimes, when I sit here with a heap of aches and pains and the usual problems, I start fantasizing about another world, in another time, when things were fine, where everything was better than the present world. I dream about a time when things were not so difficult and it was easier to be happy, when air was pure and water unpolluted.

Desert Rats

Rock Hill, famous for his role as Detective Grant Ratofski in the under ground film classic The Purple Fingers of Moriah Pussburger, after being stranded in the desert of Arizona for eight hours in sweltering heat, returned to the land of the living after Lyle Pymples, a desert rat, vagabond type of middle-aged man staged an unspectacular rescue.

Forgiveness

This man is being way too hard on himself. Nobody is perfect. Everybody makes mistakes. I don't know what he did, but yesterday a man got caught shoplifting in a pharmacy. Was it worth it? Read more and find out.

The Art of Happiness

I'm reading The Art of Happiness, by The Dalai Lama and Howard Cutler. A couple weeks ago, somebody dumped about twenty books on the curb. A friend gathered them up and brought some home. When I dropped over for a visit, the smiling face of the Dalai Lama caught my eye. I picked up the book and started reading.