neoacidcreep

It is 2:12 PM Monday afternoon. It has been a long day. I am ready to go to bed.

I got up this morning sometimes pass 6 o'clock AM. I got up because it was too hot under the sheets. We have had warm weather the last couple of days and we have flannel sheets on our bed.

So I got up before Carol and made coffee. I next read my Bible (still reading the Gospel of Matthew) and Carol got up to face life. Carol cooked herself a meal as I was in my study writing in my private diary.

This morning we took Rudy for a walk at Kollen Park and then to a park we have never been before called Sanctuary Woods Preserve. This park is by Lake Michigan. The main trail is on top of a giant sand dune. You reach the dune by climbing a flight of wooden stairs. We did not walk all the way to the Lake, because Carol did not have on the right shoes. So we walked half way and turned around.

After our walk we did errands and then went out for lunch. After lunch we went to a grocery store. Now we are home and Carol has gone to bed for a nap. I am down in our basement writing in my blogs. I am not in the mood to write. I feel wasted. The best time for me to write is in the morning.

I have been mainly reading today "The Augustan World: Life And Letters In Eighteenth-Century England" by A. R. Humphreys. (Last night I got these two books out to look at "London Life in the Eighteenth Century" by M. Dorothy George and "The Popular Novel in England 1770-1800" by J. M. Tompkins)

Since I feel like crap this afternoon I do not know what I will do? I should go fix myself a cup of tea and rest.

Today I received in the mail a letter from our son Josiah. I will have to write back to Joe this week.

In the book "The Augustan World" the author writes that the 18th century was the first great age of letter-writing. I like writing letters, but I have awful handwriting! I could not read all that Josiah wrote to me, so I had Carol read his letter to me. We need once again to master the art of writing letters.

Well I feel tired so I will close to wander my cell.

music: Willard Grant Conspiracy "Let It Roll"

A couple rather fun things on her website: the inclusion of a sketchbook of sorts and a gallery of art made by her as a child. The Baby Art gallery starts with an image predicting Beth’s later career path and continues with a lovable selection of crayon drawings.

The sketchbook is much more varied. I think that it will be done through wordpress later, but for know it’s an insanely packed html page full of scanned drawings, some paintings that weren’t included on other pages for whatever reason, collages, and even a fair amount of notes in the margins. I have the ability to see into her head more often than most, but even with that I’ve found some stuff in here I haven’t seen before.

Definitely worth a look.

And with that, we’re wrapping up Elizabeth Heppenstall Week. I’ve got a lot of other stuff I need to post about this upcoming week. Some features, some deadlines. You know, the usual. Hope you’ve enjoyed Beth’s work! Feel free to send her an email letting her know what you think, or subscribe to her blog for updates. I’m sure I won’t be able to resist posting more in the future.

You poisoned my sweet water.
You cut down my green trees.
The food you fed my children
Was the cause of their disease.
My world is slowly fallin' down
And the air's not good to breathe.
And those of us who care enough,
We have to do something...

(Chorus)
Oh... oh What you gonna do about me?
Oh... oh What you gonna do about me?
Your newspapers,
They just put you on.
They never tell you
The whole story.
They just put your
Young ideas down.
I was wonderin' could this be the end
Of your pride and glory?

(Chorus)
I work in your factory.
I study in your schools.
I fill your penitentiaries.
And your military too!
And I feel the future trembling,
As the word is passed around.
"If you stand up for what you do believe,
Be prepared to be shot down."

(Chorus)
And I feel like a stranger
In the land where I was born
And I live like an outlaw.
And I'm always on the run...
And I'm always getting busted
And I got to take a stand...
I believe the revolution
Must be mighty close at hand...

(Chorus)
I smoke marijuana
But I can't get behind your wars.
And most of what I do believe
Is against most of your laws
I'm a fugitive from injustice
But I'm goin' to be free.
'Cause your rules and regulations
They don't do the thing for me

(Chorus)
And I feel like a stranger
In the land where I was born
And I live just like an outlaw.
And I'm always on the run.
And though you may be stronger now, my time will come around.
You keep adding to my numbers, and you shoot my people down.

(Chorus) (3 times)

This morning asked me to share my thoughts on Matthew 16:13-20. I kept thinking of what the Dutch Reformed confession the Heidelberg Catechism teaches on what are the "keys of the kingdom of heaven."

"Jesus replied, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter; and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."" Matt. 16:17-20

(Heidelberg Catechism, extended... part 9)

31. Lord's Day

Q. 83.
What are the keys of the kingdom of heaven?
A.
The preaching of the holy gospel,
and christian discipline,
or excommunication out of the christian church;
by these two,
the kingdom of heaven is opened to believers,
and shut against unbelievers.


Q. 84.
How is the kingdom of heaven
opened and shut
by the preaching of the holy gospel?
A.
Thus: when
according to the command of Christ,
it is declared and publicly testified
to all and every believer,
that,
whenever they receive the promise of the gospel
by a true faith,
all their sins are really forgiven them of God,
for the sake of Christ's merits;
and on the contrary,
when it is declared and testified
to all unbelievers, and such as do not sincerely repent,
that they stand exposed to the wrath of God,
and eternal condemnation,
so long as they are unconverted: (a)
according to which testimony of the gospel, God will judge them,
both in this, and in the life to come.

(a)
Matt.16:18 And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon
this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not
prevail against it.
Matt.16:19 And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of
heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in
heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in
heaven.
Matt.18:15 Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and
tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee,
thou hast gained thy brother.
Matt.18:16 But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or
two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may
be established.
Matt.18:17 And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the
church: but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as
an heathen man and a publican.
Matt.18:18 Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth
shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall
be loosed in heaven.
Matt.18:19 Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on
earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for
them of my Father which is in heaven.
John 20:21 Then said Jesus to them again, Peace be unto you: as my
Father hath sent me, even so send I you.
John 20:22 And when he had said this, he breathed on them, and saith
unto them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost:
John 20:23 Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them;
and whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained.


Q. 85.
How is the kingdom of heaven shut and opened
by christian discipline?
A.
Thus: when
according to the command of Christ,
those, who under the name of christians,

maintain doctrines, or practices inconsistent therewith,
and will not,
after having been often brotherly admonished,
renounce their errors and wicked course of life,
are complained of to the church,
or to those,
who are thereunto appointed by the church;
and if they despise their admonition,
are by them forbidden the use of the sacraments;
whereby they are excluded from the christian church,
and by God himself from the kingdom of Christ;
and when they promise and show real amendment,
are again received as members of Christ and his church. (a)

(a)
Matt.18:15 Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and
tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee,
thou hast gained thy brother.
Matt.18:16 But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or
two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may
be established.
Matt.18:17 And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the
church: but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as
an heathen man and a publican.
Matt.18:18 Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth
shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall
be loosed in heaven.
1 Cor.5:2 And ye are puffed up, and have not rather mourned, that he
that hath done this deed might be taken away from among you.
1 Cor.5:3 For I verily, as absent in body, but present in spirit, have
judged already, as though I were present, concerning him that hath so
done this deed,
1 Cor.5:4 In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when ye are gathered
together, and my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ,
1 Cor.5:5 To deliver such an one unto Satan for the destruction of the
flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.
1 Cor.5:11 But now I have written unto you not to keep company, if any
man that is called a brother be a fornicator, or covetous, or an
idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner; with such an
one no not to eat.
2 Thess.3:14 And if any man obey not our word by this epistle, note
that man, and have no company with him, that he may be ashamed.
2 Thess.3:15 Yet count him not as an enemy, but admonish him as a
brother.
2 Cor.2:6 Sufficient to such a man is this punishment, which was
inflicted of many.
2 Cor.2:7 So that contrariwise ye ought rather to forgive him, and
comfort him, lest perhaps such a one should be swallowed up with
overmuch sorrow.
2 Cor.2:8 Wherefore I beseech you that ye would confirm your love
toward him.

our home here in Holland, Michigan

It is 11:13 AM Sunday morning. I am now back down in the basement writing in my blogs. I took my lap top upstairs this morning. I like being down in our open basement writing because I have most of my books around me.

This morning I took our dog Rudy for a walk at Kollen Park. It is another Indian Summer day here by Lake Michigan. I should be outside enjoying the late autumn weather instead of being down here in our basement writing words. I have a lot of verbiage. It is embarrassing sometimes to see how much I write each day! I must come off as a freak. Some people must say to themselves “Jonny needs to get a life.” I have been writing for so many years that is like breathing to me. Maybe I have some kind of compulsive disorder? But I always hear in my inner man these words of Jack Kerouac—

Belief & Technique for Modern Prose

List of Essentials

1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2. Submissive to everything, open, listening
3. Try never get drunk outside yr own house
4. Be in love with yr life
5. Something that you feel will find its own form
6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7. Blow as deep as you want to blow
8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual
10. No time for poetry but exactly what is
11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest
12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time
15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17. Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
19. Accept loss forever
20. Believe in the holy contour of life
21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
22. Dont think of words when you stop but to see picture better
23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
29. You’re a Genius all the time
30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

I like number 21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind.

So here I sit down in the basement writing “The unspeakable vision of the individual.”

After I walked Rudy at Kollen Park I went to a coffee house and got a large mocha and looked through the Sunday New Times (I look at the Art section and the Book Reviews not the whole newspaper.)

I came home and so goes by existence. 15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog.

Carol told me this morning before going to bed she is working tonight from 8 o’clock PM till 12 o’clock Midnight.

I have been carrying around with me this morning these books to read for Sunday worship—

“Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew” by Jonathan T. Pennington

“Matthew: An Exegetical and Theological Expostion of Holy Scripture NIV Text” by Craig Blomberg [The New American Commentary]

“The End Of The Ages Has Come: An Early Interpretation Of The Passion And Resurrection Of Jesus” by Dale C. Allison, Jr.

I really do not have anything pressing on my mind this morning. I suppose I will close to put away my books

music: TV On The Radio “Dear Science”

It is 6:56 AM Sunday morning in the flow of existence. I got up around 6:15 AM this morning. I was having one of those dreams where I am lost and can not find my way home. Finally I got sick of being lost and woke myself up to face another day of living. It is good to be alive during the Last Days. The Lord is building is Church one stone at a time. (Matt. 16:13-20 "And I also say to you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it")

I made a pot of coffee when I got up and got a Sunday morning newspaper off our drive way. There is a thick mass of fog on top of our neighborhood this morning.

Last night I mainly watched college football and read a book titled "The Augustan World: Life And Letters In Eighteenth-Century England" by A. R. Humphreys. I got this book out to read because Samuel Johnson lived in the 18th century Augustan world. I read also yesterday when not watching football "Samuel Johnson: The Struggle" by Jeffrey Meyers. Yesterday I took break from my academic Christian books. I need to ponder what I read and not just let it slip away.

Yesterday was mainly a day of watching college football. Carol got up around 6:30 PM and left for work at 7:50 PM. She is off from work tonight. Life just keeps zooming by!

I have no plans for the day. I like to go outside and take pictures of the fog this morning. I have some money to go to Lemonjello's this morning to buy a large mocha. It is a blessing to have any money in these days of massive unemployment. We never know when we will be on the streets begging for bread. "For the time has come for judgment to begin at the house of God; and if begins with us first, what will be the end of those who do not obey the gospel of God?" 1 Peter 4:17.

I just remembered that I read also last night while watching college football the article on The Gospel of Matthew in a book titled "Dictionary for Theological Interpretation of the Bible" General Editor Kevin J. VanHoozer.

I am this morning in chapter 24 of the Gospel of Matthew. Yesterday morning I read Ben Witherington III's commentary on Matthew. I read Witherington III's comments on Matthew chapter 23 in the Gospel of Matthew.
I told myself way in the beginning when I made a decision to read through the Bible that I would not study the Bible, but read it to Hear a new the voice of God. Here I am studying the Gospel of Matthew and not just pondering it. What can I do? I have so many questions after reading the Gospel of Matthew. I might as well use my books. It is a shame to see dusting gathering on my books.

I won't study the rest of the New Testament Gospels. I will try to just read the Gospel of Mark and ponder what I read. I have never really studied deeply the Gospel of Mark. There is a commentary on Mark that I want badly, it is volume Two of Joel Marcus' commentary on the Gospel of Mark. I have volume One "Mark 1-8" A New Translation With Introduction and Commentary by Joel Marcus [The Anchor Bible Commentary Series].

If I had money I could spend a fortune on books and CD's. (Matthew 19:16-30 "Then Jesus said to His disciples, "Assuredly, I say to you that it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. And again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God."" Matt.19:23,24)

I did get out to read as I come to the last chapters of the Gospel of Matthew a book titled "The End Of The Ages Has Come: An Early Interpretation Of The Passion and Resurrection Of Jesus" by Dale C. Allison Jr.. I hate seeing such wonderful books not being used! It is tragic I am not using my spiritual gifts, but the Lord is the Head of the Church. ("And do not be called teachers; for One is your Teacher, the Christ. But he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted" Matt. 23:10-12.)

Well I will close to ponder the Word of God. Today is a Sunday. This morning the churches will be full of worshipers.

fnord

Something used to control, that I am going to teach you to break free of, in order to create purity in your wakings.

fnord is the word "word", where fn Is an upside down double u with a hook.

Catch my drift!

Read your ABCs carefully, read em inside and out, upside down, then SPIT THEM OUT!

LATER GATERS, see ya next Sunday! Unless I get a call.

PEACE13LOVE,
CHANDORJAY

"Why share these things if they may not even exist in a hundred years? Because it might just bring us all to life."


-*-

My name is Chand OR Jay.

I tip cognate throwns into the waters of the Danube, by giving them their One true name and then taking it away, in the eternal cycles paving the way to manifest freedom.

You are the poetry of my soul. You are all my bodhi, the Soma and the purification of Self through vigilence, truth, the ability to be tickled, and a keen internal sense of love. Our Kind-laced boots bring water walking to even the thirstiest knave.

As you know IF YOU KNOW, I recently awakened into 88 new worlds, each more splendid than the last in its capacity to be infinitely painted with a chaos pen.

I want you to know, I hear you, all aspects of you, of us, simultaneous in our brilliance!

The day after awakening, lazily projecting my boredom at the television sets, I started a new journey, whose prediction would be difficult to track, as it passed through countless anomalies to give birth and rebirth to its very Self.

But enough with the naked sophistry!

I am going to do what I always have done: Just speak the secrets kept so long by the unlawful. Enjoy this world we have created together, out of nothingness itself.

I watch before my Eyes as the universe itSelf actually becomes our story. I live for the first time, undying IN Time. The only Thing of matter anymore is that there is Love.

And the worlds themselves begin to conform around me to my presence as sentience, and in a sort of unknowing comprehension of what is it we're doing here. Where we're going from here. How we will get there. Word by Word, Piece by Piece, Until We Reach The Light.

As for the Mason Program, it is going to begin breaking down at the seams, a victim of its own inability to properly educate its youth, of which one in a thousand thousand offspring even has the balls to dye their hair red. Come with me before a new Autumn!

Enjoy the show!


-*-
( If you are a powerful person - The following is a story I completely made up. I'm just a kid! )

Peace&Love:
:evoL&ecaeP

I’ve also got Permanent-Stick-It-Out-Ed-Ness on my page, but Beth posted the headshots from that project as Professional Photography. The intention is to get more pictures made of alternate personas at a later date. I find it enlightening to see how portrait studios react to you when you are not yourself. It’s like punk’d for those interested in social photography.

If heaven the grateful liberty would give
That I might choose my method how to live,
And all those hours propitious fate should lend,
In blissful ease and satisfaction spend:
Near some fair town I'd have a private seat,
Built uniform, not little, nor too great:
Better if on a rising ground it stood;
Fields on this side, on that a neighboring wood;
It should within no other things contain
But what were useful, necessary, plain:
Methinks 'tis nauseous, and I'd ne'er endure
The needless pomp of gaudy furniture.
A little garden, grateful to the eye,
And a cool rivulet run murmuring by,
On whose delicious banks a stately row
Of shady limes or sycamores should grow;
At the end of which a silent study placed
Should be with all the noblest authors graced:
Horace and Virgil, in whose mighty lines
Immortal wit and solid learning shines;
Sharp Juvenal, and amorous Ovid too,
Who all the turns of love's soft passion knew;
He that with judgment reads his charming lines,
In which strong art with stronger nature joins,
Must grant his fancy does the best excel,
His thoughts so tender and expressed so well;
With all those moderns, men of steady sense,
Esteemed for learning and for eloquence.
In some of these, as fancy should advise,
I'd always take my morning exercise:
For sure no minutes bring us more content
Than those in pleasing, useful studies spent.
I'd have a clear and competent estate,
That I might live genteelly, but not great;
As much as I could moderately spend,
A little more, sometimes to oblige a friend.
Nor should the sons of poverty repine
Too much at fortune, they should taste of mine;
And all that objects of true pity were
Should be relieved with what my wants could spare.
For that our Maker has too largely given
Should be returned, in gratitude to heaven.
A frugal plenty should my table spread,
With healthy, not luxurious dishes fed:
Enough to satisfy, and something more
To feed the stranger and the neighboring poor.
Strong meat indulges vice, and pampering food
Creates diseases and inflames the blood.
But what's sufficient to make nature strong
And the bright lamp of life continue long
I'd freely take, and as I did possess,
The bounteous Author of my plenty bless.
I'd have a little vault, but always stored
With the best wines each vintage could afford.
Wine whets the wit, improves its native force,
And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse:
By making all our spirits debonair
Throws off the lees, the sediment of care.
But as the greatest blessing heaven lends
May be debauched and serve ignoble ends,
So, but too oft, the grape's refreshing juice
Does many mischievous effects produce.
My house should no such rude disorders know
As from high drinking consequently flow.
Nor would I use what was so kindly given
To the dishonour of indulgent heaven.
If any neighbor came,he should be free,
Used with respect, and not uneasy be
In my retreat, or to himself or me.
What freedom, prudence, and right reason give
All men may with impunity receive:
But the least swerving from their rule's too much,
For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.
That life may be more comfortable yet,
And all my joys refined, sincere and great,
I'd choose two friends, whose company would be
A great advance to my felicity:
Well born, of humours suited to my own;
Discreet, and men, as well as books, have known.
Brave, generous, witty, and exactly free
From loose behavior or formality.
Airy and prudent, merry, but not light;
Quick in discerning, and in judging right.
Secret they should be, faithful to their trust;
In reasoning cool, strong, temperate and just;
Obliging, open, without huffing, brave,
Brisk in gay talking, and in sober, grave;
Close in dispute, but not tenacious, tried
By solid reason, and let that decide;
Not prone to lust, revenge, or envious hate,
Nor busy meddlers with intrigues of state;
Strangers to slander, and sworn foes to spite:
Not quarrelsome, but stout enough to fight
Loyal and pious, friends to Caesar, true
As dying martyrs to their Maker too.
In their society, I could not miss
A permanent, sincere, substantial bliss.
Would bounteous heaven once more indulge, I'd choose
(For who would so much satisfaction lose
As witty nymphs in conversation give)
Near some obliging, modest fair to live;
For there's that sweetness in a female mind
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find,
That by a secret but a powerful art
Winds up the springs of life, and does impart
Fresh vital heat to the transported heart.
I'd have her reason all her passions sway;
Easy in company, in private gay:
Coy to a fop, to the deserving free,
Still constant to herself, and just with me.
A soul she should have for great actions fit;
Prudence and wisdom to direct her wit:
Courage to look bold danger in the face,
No fear, but only to be proud or base:
Quick to advise, by an emergence pressed,
To give good counsel, or to take the best.
I'd have the expression of her thoughts be such
She might not seem reserved nor talk too much;
That shows a want of judgment and of sense:
More than enough is but impertinence.
Her conduct regular, her mirth refined,
Civil to strangers, to her neighbors kind;
Averse to vanity, revenge, and pride,
In all the methods of deceit untried;
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No censure might upon her actions fall;
Then would even envy be compelled to say
She goes the least of womankind astray.
To this fair creature I'd sometimes retire,
Her conversation would new joys inspire;
Give life an edge so keen, no surly care
Would venture to asault my soul, or dare
Near my retreat to hide one secret snare.
But so divine, so noble a repast
I'd seldom and with moderation taste;
For highest cordials all their virtue lose
By a too frequent and to bold an use:
And what would cheer the spirits in distress
Ruins our health, when taken to excess.
I'd be concerned in no litigious jar,
Beloved by all, not vainly popular;
Whate'er assistance I had power to bring
To oblige my country, or to serve my king,
Whene'er they called, I'd readily afford
My tongue, my pen, my counsel, or my sword.
Lawsuits I'd shun, with as much studious care
As I would dens where hungry lions are,
And rather put up injuries than be
A plague to him who'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great
To give for my revenge so dear a rate;
For what do we by all our bustle gain
But counterfeit delight, for real pain?
If heaven a date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleasure, ease, and plenty live;
And as I near approached the verge of life,
Some kind relation, for I'd have no wife,
Should take upon him all my worldly care
While I did for a better state prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vexed,
Nor have the evening of my days perplexed;
But by a silent and a peaceful death,
Without a sigh, resign my aged breath:
And when committed to the dust, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropped into my grave.
Then would my exit so propitious be,
All men would wish to live and die like me.

Ode on Solitude
Alexander Pope


Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.

Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lye.

While Having A Baby is full of the dirty and rough side of photography (which currently makes my world go round), Beth has done a fair amount of lit work as well. A lot of these shoots seem to be research for her paintings, but a few of her portraits have been posted in a gallery called Space Boys and Other Oddities.

At times I feel like a lot of studio work looks the same – lighting can be interesting, but gets predictable for some reason. I think that Beth’s pictures have a strong female gaze, though, which is something I enjoy. It’s probably not as strong as her crazy-goggles, but it’s there.

If there is one thing I’d have to hope for in the future, it’s greater variety of models. Beth suffers a little from a common early artist phenomenon: you can recognize repeated of faces in her work. It’s not as bad as many photographer’s websites, where all the pictures seem to be taken in one lazy afternoon, but if it continued in that direction I think it might take something away from the impact of some of the projects. As she gets less shy and more confident in her creative abilities, this will shift drastically. Of course, having her name out there a little bit more helps and being able to point potential subjects to her website is never a bad thing.

the man in the iron cage

the color of the fire

I took the day off from work so here I sit feeling like I have been run over by a mack truck. I did not sleep well last night. I worked so hard yesterday that I got sick to my being. I woke up several times during the night feeling dead. So here I now sit listening to the Boards of Canada. Carol went out for coffee with a neighbor lady. She is suppose to pick me up around 9 o'clock to go out for breakfast. I hope I do not fall into a lifeless coma.

Last night I laid in bed for awhile listening to music and feeling spent. I read some of the book "The Beat Hotel: Ginsberg, Burroughs, and Corso in Paris, 1957-1963" by Barry Miles last night. Carol and I went to bed early.

I do not know what is on my mind this morning? I am tired. I have no big plans for the weekend, but rest. Carol works this weekend. I do not know if I will still go to Western Theological Seminary and do research? I am blown mentally and might just read my Beat books this weekend. I am beat. Existence keeps going by. I have in my Beat collection Barry Miles biography of Jack Kerouac I could look at this weekend. The biography is titled "Jack Kerouac: The King of the Beats".

Everytime I think of the life of Kerouac I think of the man in the iron cage in John Bunyan"s book "The Pilgrim's Progress" I close quoting from Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" the section containing the man in an iron cage.

"Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said the Interpreter, till I have shewed thee a little more, and

after that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark room, where there sat a man in an iron cage.

Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad; he sat with his eyes looking down to the ground, his hands folded together, and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then said Christian, What means this? At which the Interpreter bid him talk with the man.

Then said Christian to the man, What art thou? The man answered, I am what I was not once.

Chr. What wast thou once?

Man. The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing professor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of others; I once was, as I thought, fair for the Celestial City, and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither.

Chr. Well, but what art thou now? Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it, as in this iron cage. I cannot get out. Oh, now I cannot!

Chr. But how camest thou in this condition?

Man. I left off to watch and be sober. I laid the reins, upon the neck of my lusts; I sinned against the light of the Word and the goodness of God; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me; I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me: I have so hardened my heart, that I cannot repent.

Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hope for such a man as this? Ask him, said the Interpreter. Nay, said Christian, pray, Sir, do you.

Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Is there no hope, but you must be kept in the iron cage of despair?

Man. No, none at all.

Inter. Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful.

Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh; I have despised his person; I have despised his righteousness; I have counted his blood an unholy thing; I have done despite to the Spirit of grace. Therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings, of certain judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.

Inter. For what did you bring yourself into this condition?

Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight; but now every one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm.

Inter. But canst thou not now repent and turn?

Man. God hath denied me repentance. His Word gives me no encouragement to believe; yea, himself hath shut me up in this iron cage; nor can all the men in the world let me out. O eternity, eternity! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity!

Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.

Chr. Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God help me to watch and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause of this man's misery! Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now? Inter. Tarry till I shall shew thee one thing more, and then thou shalt go on thy way." Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan

8:48 a.m. - 2003-03-28