Today, I finally made it out to Michael’s to buy a frame for this delicious print from OptikalBlitz, who graciously supplied it to me. My iPhone camera cannot bring out the luscious detail and color in this print — go check out [ob]’s site to see it in his gallery. It’s truly a stunning shot.

Aerial Power - Airman Dan

Juggling acts are fantastic. Especially if stuff is on fire. Like kerosene-soaked bowling pins. I'm excited, but i'm not. I'm busy but i asked for it. I layered improperly. Time to juggle. One cannot Fred Flintstone it with 30 miles between gigs. I'll have to let a pin burn out before the act. Nullify. There's still a resounding thud if i toss it into the night sky and cannot track by flamelight the pin falling back to earth, clobbering me in the process. [Whew..] And what of this new font? Hookah-induced no doubt. Am i a power user yet? I can't keep up! Even when i dedicate myself to this domain entirely. That's juggling more-still. Crap, i'm drowning. What is it about human nature that causes all of our events of true interest to happen under cover of darkness? It could be argued that we have an inborn nature to work under the sun and play under the stars. But! What of the so-called weekend? We errand and idle during daytime, waiting only for the sun to fall to mischieve and gallivant. Are we, as a civilization, ashamed of our deeds that we do under the sun-less sky? I'm inclined to generalize in the 'yes' direction. Advocacy for the beast tells us: "Everything looks cooler at night." Can't argue with that. Why not? Because my human shame prevails. I see the illness but my own filthy nature makes me powerless to kill it off and party during the waking hours. The closest we've gotten to salvation are cookouts, but you know we're all waiting for the darkness.

They are what they are, people. I'm not just saying that because i'm on the thin end of the curve. I'm saying that because you're wasting time. You're asking and arguing for something you could just as easily earn yourself. Ah, forget it. 'Looking out for number one' should be a mantra of mine. Sometimes i'm too concerned with what is going on in other people's heads. Unfortunately though, what people are thinking comes splashing out of their mouths and starts to do damage in the form of distracting, infuriating phrases. Now i'm left here stuck with a crumpled pile of unfinished checklists--dated weeks ago. Look out for number one...when your list of errands is filled with numbers that aren't one. Right... What to strike from the list to make room for me? What to jam into the list to make that room worth using? I think people call these 'priorities.' This language is far too plain for me to understand without getting bored. Now i've lost the entire point of why i pulled this sheet out. But...i do have some questions that have been bothering me lately:
Why am i always wrong?
Why is every part of me so unrelentingly sore lately?
What's the point of photography? No one seems to care. Why aren't i doing this for myself?

Presidential Celebration 2008
Originally uploaded by optikal.

This is what the world just outside of my apartment door looked like when President Barack Obama was declared the winner of the Presidential Election of 2008. "Where were you when..." comes to mind. I never thought i'd have one of those positive historical nights. We had the moon landing--i wasn't even a thought in the wind. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke, the ground shook as his heavy words fell, and i missed that too. Fast forward a few decades, and here i sit, in my college apartment, having voted for the first black president of these United States of America. Music and horns blared outside my apartment door. People who didn't know one another hugged intensely. I saw a lot of crying faces. I shook alot of hands, gave a lot of hugs, yelled a whole bunch. It was just a relief. You can't work as hard as Barack and his campaign staff AND his family did, and not reap appropriate rewards. He deserves this position of leadership. His vision and politics is unlike anything in recent history. I'm happy for him. I'm happy for the US. I'm happy the world will see who we truly are in the years to come.

And before you get any smart ideas, it's not a circumscribed hole either.  This peg simply will not fit into the hole.  I've finally found validation for the answer i've been giving people all this time.  It's not a matter of career paths, it's a matter of comfort.  Photography is what keeps me centered and placid.  Standing here amid the chaos, i'm not centered; nothing is placid.  It's all just stress and nervousness.  I mean, it takes some acclimation, but i honestly wouldn't do it for a living.  I volunteer my time for the TU newspaper quite readily and i'm proud of my contributions when i can make them, but it takes experience to know what you like and what you don't like.  It feels nice to know i still did an alright job on the assignment(s).