In this life choose many lifestyles.
When one gets boring, flip the script.
Don’t pigeonhole yourself.
As many lifestyles as there are,
there are just as many lives to live.
In this life choose many lifestyles
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Portrait of my own Unique Beauty
If what you see in the mirror is ugly, then consider this: chances are you’re comparing your own unique beauty to what, for your entire life, you’ve been programmed to believe is beautiful.
And what is beauty anyways?
Margaret Wolfe Hungerford said, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
And isn’t that true? Yes or no, in more instances than not beauty is subjective. In fact, I’d go even further to say that beauty manifests itself in infinite ways other than what the eye can see.
As a photographer with a fond admiration for women and men alike I can honestly say that I have taken countless photographs and manipulated them to appeal to the mass collective of what is to be considered quote on quote “beautiful.”
Hypocrite. No, I think not. I never claimed they were beautiful but simply did my job in a way that my superior agreed was aesthetically pleasing.
A wrinkle here, a crows foot there, deleted.
Nobody has ever died from a portrayal of beauty, right?
Wrong. Though I’m not an extremist so there are many factors to consider, all of which yes, I agree, may seem like a bit of a cop out or excuse not to hold oneself accountable for taking what is and transforming it into something less natural.
But this isn’t about my career choice or eye in which I behold.
This is about you and that “ugly” reflection in the mirror.
You are not ugly, you simply aren’t. You are you, and you are beautiful.
Those who claim to seek perfection, well, they’re only trying to fill a void. And it’s a bottomless pit because like beauty, perfection is ultimately subjective.
While I sit here and delve deeper into thought, I watch a mother and daughter walk by my window. The mother is flapping her arms as graceful as she can. The child looks to her mother and understands she is trying her best.
In the end all that we can do is try our best to love ourselves enough to fully accept the unique beauty of another.
Any other judgement is of which we have been programmed to believe.
It’s taken a very long while to believe in myself and I willingly admit that each day is a slow progression to further acceptance of my own unique beauty.
If someone tells you you’re not beautiful, that’s their loss.
And I hope the next mirror that you face looks back in your direction as the child looks with grace and marvels at the perfection of her mother’s love.
(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)
wasted days
I remember all my wasted days
so vividly now and always
because for all my wasted days
tallied together, I’m that much more
thankful for the good ones
and the people I shared them with,
who made them great and who I miss dearly
upon all these abundant, wasted days.
Leaves they fall in autumn
Everyone has problems
More elaborate than my own
Like these they fall in autumn
Their limbs are all exposed
I want to tell them something
Assure they’re not alone
Still leaves they fall in autumn
Sometimes to live you’ve got to die.
Some say the world’s worth saving
Some say we’ll never know
Like a corn cob pipe and button
Left in the melting snow
A fireplace can warm you
For a while from the cold
Still a child holds his coal eyes
And now he knows.
It’s not his fault that his friend must go
Either way he’s gonna cry
You’re beautiful so it’s logical
This season’s just a state of mind
If I could save you, you know I would
But even I know that’s a lie
See summers change and then grow cold
It’s no longer up to me to decide
it’s dark living in shadows
Living in the present
got you long lost in the past
now there are only memories
but how long will they last?
Like waiting for a moment
that since already’s passed
it’s dark living in shadows
of those which fear has cast.
Do spells exist you wonder
indeed I’ve seen a few
that stranger in the mirror
the stranger he is you.
So tell me of your sorrow
belief is up to you
you just grow older darling
regardless of the truth.
It’s all understandable. (for every no one who ever was)
To be honest
and be open
put yourself in
her hands like you’re a toy.
There’s a reason
for each season
pollen eaten
her wind cradles a boy.
They know nothing of us,
and we
know nothing of them.
We all
just sort of pretend.
We’re bitter still.
In the air there’s a bitter chill.
Like a car crash
I tell you that
it’s not too bad
we both just try not to stare.
In the glove box
there’s a snuff box
full of coupons
I keep in case that you cared.
The leaves on the ground,
remind me
how powerless that I am.
It’s natural to fall down,
we all
just sort of try to fit in.
Leave me alone, no don’t
leave me alone.
Memories fill my head
like waves
crashing down on the shore.
Just as soon as they hit
cast away
back to the ocean once more.
To be bitter
or be broken
understand that
this is for no one who ever was.
This Adam’s apple is proof of Eve
Did you think it would be that easy
just to walk away.
Like we were the 30th of April
now it’s the 1st of May.
The sun here is always shining
yet I still see rain.
I was California dreaming
just to numb the pain.
Awake
or asleep
It doesn’t really make a difference
Blue
or green
The ocean looks the same
Black
or white
Just pictures on a TV screen
You
and I
We’re searching for significance
I guess…
You had to make your move
like we were playing chess.
Across from one another
we are at our best.
Stuck between the sun and moon
like all the rest.
Before my Confirmation
I never did confess.
Up
or down
The world’s full of extremes
Then
or now
The choices never change
Commit
or don’t
Either way there’s so much pain
You
and I
We’re just finger painting our esteem
I guess…
Then a baby’s born
Then another one and then some more
While a preemie dies
It’s not her fault that he’s premature
Grief
or guilt
Both come in due time
Live
or die
Flip a coin put it aside
Bitter
or sweet
This Adam’s apple is proof of Eve
You
and I
Banished from that Garden
we couldn’t find.
Still, did you think it would be that easy
just to walk away?
It was cold that year I remember well
I fell in love with her smile
like I had a choice?
She looked me over hell
felt like a little boy
It was cold that year
I remember well
Tangled blankets and sheets
that old apartment smell.
I fell in love with her mind
like an Etch A Sketch
She threw so many bones
like we were playing fetch
It was cold that year
smoke on the fire escape
I drew her in black lines
then shook but couldn’t erase.
I fell in love with her body
like it was a toy
We’d make love for hours
then a little more
It was cold that year
with Manhattan in view
We counted down from 10
New Years on Pia’s roof.
Ain’t it a trip life
you work just to get away
She fell so many times
I’d pick her up and say
You choose the road anywhere
let’s take a drive
Coast to coast man
we died to feel alive.
There’s a scrapbook somewhere
it’s unfinished but proof
That true love exists
and it’s in me and you
A crazy beautiful thing now
baby that’s the truth
I’ll finish it one day
till then this’ll have to do.
I fell in love with her eyes
bewitched under spell
At the flick of a switch
I could turn heaven to hell
If looks could kill honey
stare come on I’m your guy
I never loved her more
than when I wanted to die.
I fell in love with her soul
as she burned the sage
Expelling demons like a shaman
she was young and brave
It was cold that year
at the Macy’s parade
Her face covered in scarf
a perfect picture to take.
I fell in love with her frown
just to turn it around
I fell in love with her ups
just to carry her downs
It was cold that year
I remember now
The first night she slept
next to me safe and sound.
Ain’t life a gas man
you work just to get away
You get away then go home
wishing that you’d stayed
One more day in a motel
somewhere new
They’re always coming man
those damn check out blues.
There’s a memory somewhere
to take me back
Always underdressed and upset
baby that’s a wrap
I remember it all like it was yesterday
That’s why I wake up in love
with each and every day.
Nonsense
I was thinking how peculiar
right before I made a U turn
It was early Sunday morning
flashing sirens without warning
Looking both ways like a child
crossing with chicken on the road
there is this man who looks me up
and down as I begin to sigh
Then I look in both direction
turn the wheel with cruel intention
In the distance there’s this woman
picket signs read save the children
I am half way home before I know
exactly what I’m doing though I
stop the car unlock the door
and let the woman in
She sits criss-cross like a virgin
while I drive off she is urgent
I don’t know what you are thinking
she speaks softly without blinking
I was waiting for the bus when you
rolled up I must confess I recognized
your eyes from times gone by
like strangers on a train
It is awkward for a second
can I interest you in breakfast
She says sure she knows a diner
while she applies her eye liner
There’s a group of old men standing
with dead babies and demanding
that a women’s right is not all right
unless they’re in control
I’ll have coffee she’ll have coffee
yes please thank you two black coffee’s
In her teeth stuck there’s a poppy
seed my breath smells quite like onion
As the man from earlier walks by
the window just in time to see
again with no expression just a
long tedious sigh
He must think of me how boring
flashing sirens without warning
I feel seasick like a sailor
hey can you do me a favor
And that’s when she asks
to take her back in time for
her divorce of course she’d
first prefer some pie
On the drive home I was thinking
how peculiar she left winking
Shut the door then started walking
while I drove off she was talking
To the man who looked familiar
from the corner of my eye though
when I looked away then back again
they both just sort of sighed
Passing by the old cathedral
doors open releasing people
From their suffering they’re smiling
shaking hands exchanging sighs and
Across the street there’s signs
that read like jokes inside my mind
there’s men and women who protest
the earth is flat next to another group
who all claim there is no God.
Words Of An Average White Male 