(This was me, 2:25pm, August 31, 2020—happy, and holy, and released)

It’s become abundantly clear through time and misfortune, not to be confused with the physical form such as money or objects, but rather with the exploration of self, the embodiment of peace, and the idea that expression can or should be limited or contained due of a value system built out of fear and intolerance.

Most of our lives we are given what can be thought of as a safety net of ideals—paths to follow, standards to meet—to make life “easier” or conducive to the perception of others.

Rather than present ourselves the way we deem fit, the general standard is to be as the chameleon—to do whatever it takes to fit in—who blends into its surroundings for survival.

Well, for myself, I’ve learned to accept and reject that pattern as it does not allow for growth.

I’ve grown everywhere from upside down to sideways and still have come to the conclusion that no matter how hard you try, there will always be a group, a banner, many men and signs who will make it their duty to mock one’s freedom of self.

I accept myself.

Further more, I applaud myself.

I look in the mirror and examine an ever changing life force composed of trial and error, love and appreciation, a life force who has exhausted himself to live his truth, that is…well…hell if I know!

I’m still figuring that out, one moment, one step, and one portrait at a time.

Thankfully enough, I’ve been blessed by an equal partner, a beautiful guiding spirit of light and love to help nurture my venture to freedom of self—Ariel Rachel—who does not judge but embraces my eccentricities as I honor and trust full heartedly in hers.

I highly recommend letting go of inhibition, being open and honest with yourself, others, and showcasing who you are, each and every day.

Be well my friends. I look forward to seeing you for everything that you are, today, tomorrow, and in future discoveries.

(This was me, 2:25pm, August 31, 2020—happy, and holy, and released)

2:25pm, August 31, 2020—happy, and holy, and released

the air of my ancestors

I fill my lungs

with the air of my ancestors

knowing my purpose

is their peace.

In your passing: for Alvaro

Listening to Rob Zombie.

You dug his artistry.

I bob my head compulsively.

Go figure.

And in this moment, I’m reminded.

Of your grace.

Some people have it,
you had it.

Though I never told you, it was clear
you had no intention of being graceful.

It’s just something we’re born with.

No matter the number of tattoo
that cover our skin.

No matter the loony stories
we tell ourselves to get by.

It’s sort of an unspoken connection.

And when you smiled you meant it.

When you frowned, it was for just reason.

In retrospect, our time knowing one another
was shorter than most.

And after College, we only spoke via
likes and shares.

But nonetheless, your spirit breathes on.

Like the orchestral breakdown in, The Man Who Laughs.

You did and still do inspire me.

I see this now.

So in my thanks, I know you’d just laugh
and say,

“Ah Dave! I love you, you crazy bastard!”

That Kurt Cobain.

He had his finger on the pulse of a generation.

And another on the trigger of a shotgun.

Depending on who you believe,

a conspiracy theory won’t bring back the dead.

A corpse doesn’t lie, it sings.

It sings all the beautiful things it couldn’t see alive.

Through sentiment.

Remembrance.

And praise.

Shedding it’s form.

It becomes an idol.

He was a slick cat, that Kurt Cobain.

If he hadn’t wanted fame, Aberdeen would have gladly laid his grave.

And if not for boredom, then how could one know joy?

He was a slick cat, that Kurt Cobain.

A sly dog, indeed.