dear deer

this is neat.

Ride the Snake

This last weekend we took a trip to the dunes. It was a surreal place. The wind was a'whippin' and the sand a'blowin'. 

Upon arrival we headed to the flats for a round of Bocce Ball. Real good time.

The next morning we set out to summit the dunes. No small task.

Played Bocce Ball all the way up and down those things.

Made it to the top and celebrated with a cold beverage. Rode the snake back down.

Mad Love from Back East

The Chronicles on Reason Clothing. Word. Check the rest of their site out here.

Pools & Dragging: The Life Cycle Trip

When I was last in California, I took a look through some of my parent's old stuff, like scrap books, photo albums, and boxes of slides. That set me off on this week-long existential crisis on aging, life and death, perspectivism, the mechanization of art, the digital takeover, and the dying out of physical-personal-artifacts. In my little black book I scribbled, "Now, kids have files. And with one crash of the hard drive (an event far more likely than the house fire) it's all gone." I worry that one day, not long from now, kids will look at the disposable camera with the same sense of nostalgia I have for the Polaroid Instamatic, or look at a CD the way I do a record. It's already going on, I guess.

Homie Abroad

I just got this Facebook message today from a good friend. I'll leave him anonymous:

dude, i was sitting on the main plaza minding my own business and this columbian sits down and we start chatting and he asks me if i want to go for a cerveza so we go.
dude´s older with a family and a drugdealer, found it wayyyy tooo intriguing apparently-.
went to some bar in the middle of nowhere, afternoon, had a drink and the guy gave me a half a joint to smoke. the beers were expensive, and he said it is because you can smoke there without a problem.
he offered me some columbian coke and it was rediculous, apparently completely pure.
he left because he wanted to give me a weed sack and when he came back, he gave it to me and i put it in my pocket.
moments later, police man walks in.
shit´s way tense, searches us, columbian has coke and hash and i just put a bunch of pot in my pocket.
shows us a document saying: you are fucked for at least 4 years in prison.
offers us a bribe and i was nervous as hell as bribing is illegal here.
we take a taxi with the cop to my hostal, i have 2 minutes to grab my credit card, all the cash i have and my passport.
go to the bank, can only get 320 dollars out, he wanted a g.
columbian says he´ll cover me the rest of the way, thank god, the cop hands me my shit and lets me get out of the car.
im currently nervous as hell, seeing as the cop knows where im staying and my name, and the columbian does as well and i sure as hell dont want to pay him back 7 hundo for spotting me.
too bad i maxed my card out and policeman took all my cash.
i cant stop looking over my shoulder and i feel like absolute shit physically and mentally. im such an asshole, but i learned the most intense lesson ever.
by far the most intense experience ever. ever.

i´m sticking it out in the hostal, fuck it. shits crazy.l i´ll let you know when i get out of cuzco

Stay safe, homie! 

The OFFICIAL Tenderloin Post

Danny was put in charge of Tyler's apartment for the weekend and instructed to care for the cats. There was poop everywhere.



We sat around and had some drinks then went out for the night. This was on New Year's eve.

time in yosemite

Big props to young Scott Cooper for lining it up with a sweet header for my site. Said header has refurbished my blog-life with a fresh breath of air. I'd been having dark thoughts concerning my blog, but I'm getting over them. 

Here is a piece of art I did. It wasn't until after the fact that I recognized the surfacing of subconscious desires.