Standing Alone In The Sky

Living is dying.

2012-01-22T19:16:00.002-05:00

Living is dying.

When we are young we see endless opportunity, we dream of being special. We are going to be astronauts, or scientists, or maybe even president.

Maybe by junior high or sooner we start to see that fall apart.

We see kids treating others with cruelty.

We see people who are badly handicapped.

As we age, we get to see those we love, die.

We get to learn words like "cancer", "heart disease" or "Auto accident".

And then they are gone.

We get to learn about corruption and crime, about violence and prejudice, about poverty and horrible illnesses.

Life is not this wonderous journey filled with flowers and butterflies.

It is a journey of learning to live with crushing pain. Loss. Betrayal. Death.

We only get to enjoy those butterflies and flowers by knowing the pain.

We can't really appreciate them without it.

Life is a scale we teter on. On one side is the beauty, the hugs, the laughs, the loves.

On the other side is the ache, the pain, the loss, the tears, the broken heart.

And that is the glory of being human.

We know we are here but for a short time. We are blessed with the ability to feel and empathize and hurt, and to help those we love.

We know we will die someday.

That the journey is going to hurt. A lot.

And maybe through that pain, we can find and appreciate that which we otherwise would take for granted.

You only get one shot at a sunrise. You best watch the next one. Because the day after that? You may not be here to see another.

I've lost friends, loved ones, and my own mother. I've seen them all pass on. I've watched them die. I've lost a lot, but others have lost even more.

Tomorrow, I will find a bird, or a flower, or a plant, or a gorgeous sunrise, and I will take it all in.

Life is about pain and suffering.

And that is the price we pay for joy.

Trial by fire.

2012-01-20T17:18:00.002-05:00

Well, all of my money is gone.

No more unemployment.

No job.

Because I have an alcohol addiction, in a few days I will get to go through withdrawl. This will be the second time. The first was in October, when I nearly froze to death at the cabin.

I should have learned then. I made it 25 days. Then I drank again.

I also smoke. Because of 35 years of doing that, I now have COPD. I can't imagine having to go cold turkey on both alcohol and cigarettes at the same time, but that is what I am facing.

In all these years. The last six at least....

Nobody came to my aid.

My ex who divorced me....

My former coworkers...

Nobody.

They all let me fucking rot and die here.

With all the talent, experience and ability I have, nobody stood up for me. Not one person went the extra mile to help.

So, when I lost my last job, 2 years ago, I moved back in with my father.

All of my shit still lies in boxes here. A life totally destroyed. On hold. No place to go. No home.
No job. No money. Nothing left at all.

And still, I get calls from my ex and kids..."Can you help..."

No, I can't help.

See, the last few years, I needed your help. I needed REAL help.

I needed people who would reach out to me, help me, maybe cook me a dinner, or help me find work.

When all was said and done.

I was alone.

I gave my entire life to a marriage and to raise children.

I worked for 30 years.

Drove over 1 million miles commuting.

Risked my life.

Gave all I had.

And when it counted...

I was left here to rot and die.

I would have given anything for my family. I would have sacrificed anything at all.

But when it came down to me.

They let me go.

So.

I am gone.

I am leaving you all behind.

I am moving on to a new life. I will do as I please.

But you?

You are on your own.

This is my goodbye. No, I am not dying. I am moving on.

This is life number 2.

And it starts today.

Life's Hardest Moments.

2012-01-05T13:16:00.001-05:00

Someone posted the most amazing moments in life. In response,
I would like to post the hardest moments in life.

Finding out your mother has died.
Having you children sexually abused by their grandparents.
Having your daughter raped and assaulted by a boyfriend.
Watching your father go through open heart surgery.
Watching your friends die from cancer and disease.
Losing a career that spanned 30 years.
Going bankrupt.
Being cheated on, betrayed, lied to and tossed into the street by
the woman who swore to love you forever.
Being backstabbed by coworkers.
Losing your home and the place you built for your family.
Losing all of your worldly possessions, and every dime you ever had.
Having shotguns pointed at your head for "your own safety".
Being dragged from your own home by police.
Having friends abandon you when you needed them most.
Being told you are worthless, and who would ever want you?

All of these. Are my life.

But here I stand. I have hope for a bright future with a wonderful woman who I adore. I have yet to meet her.

But she held my hand through the worst of it. Always there for me.

That is what it takes. To overcome hell.

Love.

Ok, what it's all about.

2011-12-12T09:58:00.002-05:00

I was betrayed. Lied to. Cheated on. Utterly destroyed.

I fell in love again, and I learned a lot. I also lost a lot.

Life is very fucking simple.

If you are not loved and cherished, you wither and die.

You can amuse yourself with hobbies, work and other pursuits.

But at the end of the day, if you are alone and unloved you have fucking nothing.

There is no amount of money on this earth that could make me happy.

It takes a hug and loving arms to do that.

That is all I want. All I need.

Anything else is the bonus round.

Finding God.

2011-11-25T18:18:00.005-05:00

On a cold and hellish night in October, I sat at the computer in the cabin. Freezing from the cold, no space heater could get my body temperature to where it needed to be. It was 29 degrees outside. It was 29 degrees inside.

I was also suffering from withdrawal from alcohol. I shivered. I shook. I heaved.

I went to the bedroom and wrapped myself in a comforter and blankets. I was shivering. Shaking. I was convulsing. I could not stop the involuntary muscle contractions that my withdrawal was causing. I could not stop from being so cold.

With the very last bit of consciousness I had, I dialed 911.

I told them where I was. Deep in the woods, in the wilderness.
That I was suffering from hypotermia.

To please come get me.

40 minutes later, an ambulance was there. They took me on a ride. Put warming blankets on me. Took my vital signs. Gave me IV fluids.

It was a 45 minute ride.

I was heading up Route 17, in the dark. From Hancock NY to Binghamton.

A town that had just a month before had been devastated with floods.

The backed me into the hospital ER loading dock. They wheeled me in.

"I have no insurance" I told them.

The wheeled me to a room, in the ER.

The doctors monitored my vital signs, my levels. For many hours.

They informed me they had no detox unit anymore, that it was closed a year ago.

So, they let me sit there.

And go through the rest of it. Alone.

So I heaved, convulsed, shook and fucking died.

For hours.

My vital signs were good.

So, they gave me an Ativan.

Let me try to rest for a bit.

Then at 3AM, said they are discharging me.

"Do you have any way of getting home"

Uh, no.

I rode here from a mountain cabin for 40 miles in an ambulance. It is is now 3AM

"You can stay in our waiting area if you want" they told me.

So I did. For almost 2 hours.

There was a storm coming. A huge snowstorm. The were warning everyone to prepare for over a foot of snow. Starting this very morning.

My 2 dogs, and the last of the things I had, were still at the cabin.

So, I hired a cab.

To drive me in the pitch black. Back to the cabin. I was fortunate to have my wallet and cash, It cost me over 100 dollars.

Still shaking from the DT's, I arrived an hour before sunrise.

I got inside, packed the last of my things.

Waited for the beginning of daylight, because one of my headlights was out.

It was still 29 degrees in there. I kept moving. Kept active. Did all I could.

I got the car packed, somehow. I got the dogs in the back seat.

I got into the car. Praying to God to let me make it home.

With no sleep. Up for over 30 hours. After hours and hours of pure hell. Going through detox, with no aid.

I got behind the wheel.

And drove the 245 miles home.

Safe and sound. Calm and alert.

That is when God was there.

And that is when my faith returned.

I never would have made it. Without Him.

In a few hours, the storm came. And dumped 15 inches of snow at the cabin.

I would have died there.

Were it not for God. And a couple of His angels.

For the record. The hospital I was sent to, was the very same place my mother was born in, 85 years ago. She rode with me to the hospital. Even though she is gone almost 3 years now.

My Dream

2011-11-21T13:51:00.003-05:00

In less than 20 months, I get a very nice pension from my former employer.

What will I do with that money?

Well, first off, 40 percent or so will go to my ex wife. She is hurting now, with serious medical issues. It will help her to have a life, a place to live and medical care.

The rest will go to the cabin property, and God willing, the property next door. I will preserve the cabin and land for my children and my brother's children.

I will hire someone to cut some paths through the spacious property (close to 20 acres, with a pond, swamp, woods and lakefront), for nature observation.

I will put out feeders, plant flowers and plants to attract birds and butterflies, and have a garden to grow crops and food for us who live there.

I will put out pathway lights, so we can search for the incredible moths who inhabit the dark, and the forest.

The Deer, Racoons, Black Bear and others will call this home. There will be food enough for the Herons, the songbirds, the migrants. Those just passing through.

And those of us, in our family, lucky enough to spend time there, will get to see it all.

We won't be spending our time on Jet Skis and power boats. We'll be savoring the wonder of nature. On our own private preserve. Our own refuge.

That is my dream.

I want to make that my reality.

I have 19 months to go.

Then.

It becomes real.

Out.

2011-11-13T06:59:00.001-05:00

Of money.

Of a home.

Of a job.

Of luck.

Of happiness.

Of hope.

Of time.

Sweet Darkness

2011-10-15T21:20:00.000-04:00

Sweet Darkness

When your eyes are tired

the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone

no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark

where the night has eyes

to recognize its own.

There you can be sure

you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb

tonight.

The night will give you a horizon

further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:

the world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds

except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet

confinement of your aloneness

to learn

anything or anyone

that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

David Whyte

For Grief

2011-10-08T18:43:00.000-04:00

When you lose someone you love,

Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence
Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.

-John O'Donohue

Butterfly Lane

2011-10-01T21:26:00.000-04:00

Butterfly Lane

The first sound you hear is that of a rolling stream, just below this coarse dirt and gravel road, surrounded on both sides by steep hills, and populated by enormous Hemlock trees. Sitting high in the Catskill Mountains of NY, it is barely noted on maps, yet is has been the source of incredible beauty, wonderful adventures, and painful memories for me.

Butterfly Lane. Its real name is Peas Eddy Road, and it originates in the small village of Hancock, NY. At first it courses along the East Branch of the Delaware River, but then becomes a dirt road, and cuts into the mountains, as it meanders past a working maple farm, and then, towards…nowhere. There are perhaps a few homes along its entire length, owned by those who either wanted a spectacular view, or those who wanted to not be bothered by this modern world. Tucked away in a remote area, away from cars, people, and noise.

When you are there, you realize that there are folks who do not want to be bothered by your presence. That is why they are there. So, you tread carefully and respectfully as you go. They came here and built a home for a reason. To be far removed from society and the hustle and bustle of suburban life. Or perhaps they and their families always lived in these mountains, so it is natural for them. Either way, you respect their privacy. So when I go, I go with careful steps, consideration and quiet, if I am near any of their homes. There are “POSTED” signs everywhere, ignoring those is at your own peril. Most people here are armed, and trespassing isn’t a “misdemeanor” for them.

I’ve met a few of them. They are curious about what this old guy with a huge camera is doing. As far as I know, I am the only one who has ever gone here to photograph the wildlife and butterflies. Most of them are very nice. I had one man say, “Do you want me to kill them for you so they stop moving so much?” I told him “No thanks! I really want them alive!” He was a nice man, just joking with me. Then he asked me what I was doing. I told him that there are very rare butterflies here, and explained a little about what I was shooting and observing. He seemed mildly interested. After talking a while, we discovered we knew some of the same people from the area, and from Somerset Lake, where I have my cabin. A very nice man, he wished me well.

Then, I met a totally different kind of person. They have a gorgeous, huge log home on the river. I stopped just past their home to get a shot of a Canadian Tiger Swallowtail. They saw me out of my car, and yelled over to me. “What are you doing?” “What are you taking pictures of?” They clearly seemed concerned that someone was near their property with a camera. I yelled “Taking a photo of a BUTTERFLY, and I am a NATURE PHOTOGRAPHER” That seemed to put them at a bit more ease. They have a sign by their house telling people to please not stop there. (There is a spectacular river view from where their house is) I was well past their home, but still made them uncomfortable. They want their privacy. A man with a 400mm lens makes them nervous. Why they think I would care about them or their house is beyond me, but this is how people are. I finished taking my shots of this gorgeous butterfly, and went on my way.

In my travels, I have discovered something. People are often afraid of photographers. And I have learned never to point my lens at them. It’s like pointing a gun to some people. Like you are going to steal their soul, or worse, put their photo on Facebook. You have to be very respectful and circumspect when walking around with a camera and a monster lens. Makes people very nervous. When I am out there, I carry a U.S. Marines K-Bar fighting knife. If I could legally carry a sidearm, I would, because you just never know. Nature photography takes you into unusual and often very wild places. I figure being armed is prudent. And carrying a camera with a long lens makes people doing bad things, nervous. And there are people out there doing bad things. Like logging areas they aren’t supposed to.

I ran into one such man last year. He stopped his huge truck (Filled with logs) next to my car. Asked me if I was lost. (I have out of state license plates, so everyone assumes I have no idea where I am). I explained no, that I have been up here for the last 50 years, and own property here. He wanted to know what I was doing. I lifted my camera to show him, and said “Nature Photography”. He repeated what I said back to me with as a question. I said “Yeah, I take pictures of the butterflies and birds here”. He then went on to tell me that you can never be too careful, and you never know who you may run into in these parts. To which I replied, “That is why I am always ARMED”. At that point, he decided to leave. He was obviously worried that I might be some reporter or agent for the Forestry Service trying to catch people doing bad things. You never can be too careful when out in the wilderness. Either the Bears will get you, or some asshole with a chainsaw will think you’re from the government trying to catch them on camera.

If I get the chance to talk to curious strangers, I explain what I do. And that often breaks the ice and they turn from being wary of an invader, to being curious about the photos I take, and what I see in their area.

I am en explorer by nature. And nature is what is so evident here, on this winding little road, in the middle of nowhere. I come here for the butterflies. To photograph them. And what a treasure trove it is, on Butterfly Lane.

White Admirals, Eastern Commas, Question Marks, Common Ringlet, Hoary Comma, Red Spotted Purples, Meadow and Great Spangled Fritillaries, Baltimore and Harris’s Checkerspots, Monarchs, Sulphurs, Tiger Swallowtails, Hummingbird Moths, the list goes on.

The unique environment there makes for an amazing assortment. The woodland butterflies, the ones who love moist areas, those who prefer meadows with all sorts of flowers. It is a convergence of habitat, and in summer, it is beyond spectacular.

This place has special meaning to me. It is one of those places where the memories of your past live. And the long shattered dreams are brought back to you like a tidal wave. When my kids were small, my former wife and I would bring them here. To catch some butterflies for study. We would take them back to the cabin at the lake, and after a while, release them. I would sketch them before letting them go. Those days were filled with smiles and laughter. A happy family, on vacation in this beautiful locale, enjoying nature. And then, it all ended. Today, I am divorced 6 years. My children are grown. Our house, our future, our planned retirement, our marriage, all gone.

When I pull onto that road now…every single time. I see our minivan parked there. My kids still young running around with butterfly nets, my wife there with me. It is the price I pay now to see and photograph the gorgeous butterflies that live here. I get to face a past that is long gone, and a future that will never be. And truth be told, that is why I do what I do now with such vigor and energy. It is a search for peace and beauty in the midst of a very painful and shattered life.

I stopped using a net a long time ago. Now, I capture them in all their glory with a camera, and an incredible piece of glass. The things I have seen and photographed astonish even me.

I can’t not go there. With all the pain of the past, it is still the place where the butterflies live. So, each time I go, I push through the tears, dry my eyes and my viewfinder, and look for those amazing butterflies. Every time I pull over, and turn off the engine in my car, I hear the rolling stream. I feel the cool air on my face as I step out of the car. I look over at the hillside, and there they are. Fluttering from flower to flower, landing on the dirt to soak up moisture, or nectaring on the salts of the earth.

I place the camera to my eye, and the journey of discovery begins again. The excitement builds. What will I see today? What new rarity might I find? I walk over anxiously to a flower where I see some action…and there he is. A gorgeous Baltimore Checkerspot! I focus, I fire. I’ve captured him!

These are the moments of not only my past, but of a lifetime of exploration and discovery, observing the incredible life that flourishes here. Working hard to get that shot and to see those incredible creatures, and to capture forever the image of one of God’s amazing creations.

On a road hardly traveled, tucked away in ancient mountains, with thousands of butterflies hardly noticed by anyone. I go there to see and admire them and take their picture.

The hardest part is wiping the water from my eyes, before I fire that first shot.

Welcome.

To Butterfly Lane.

Facing Death

2011-09-29T08:21:00.002-04:00

The last car ride.

I take my faithful and loving best friend.

I put her in the back of my car.

My wife is with me.

She has no idea where we are going.

We are going to the vet.

To end her life.

The tears pour from the moment I get in the car.

We bring her inside the office.

I carry her.

In my loving arms.

We go into the room with the doctor.

The man I have known for 20 years.

He says we are doing the right thing.

I hold her in my arms.

The doctor gets out a syringe.

I hold her tight.

I tell her I love her. That I am so sorry.

And watch her die.

The Positive and the Negative.

2011-09-18T23:17:00.003-04:00

What will win?

Will the pain of loss and crisis crush us. Or will our spirit prevail.

Can we overcome any obstacle?

Can we. Can I.

Have a real life, where happiness dominates misery?

I don't have the answer yet.

What I will say is this.

Of late I have rededicated myself to the good. To be optimistic, to work at something productive. To share good tidings. To look at the good.

While at the same time, virtually everything around me. Every person I loved. Everything. Falls apart in a smoldering ash heap.

When I look at just the facts.

My father now in debt to the IRS for an insane amount of money. The risk is the loss of his home, and the cabin and lake property I and my family hold so dear.

My ex wife. No matter the strife she caused me.

With a degenerative disease that will slowly rob her of the ability to have a normal life. Taking from her the motor skills to write. To walk. To speak properly. And eventually, to breathe.

I am almost out of unemployment insurance.

I am going to beg my company for a hardship release of money that I would normally be able to collect in 20 months.

I am working with all I have to try to stay positive.

I keep up the fight.

What I want more than anything on this Earth.

What I miss more than all I can say.

Is to one day again be able to come HOME.

Rest my weary body.

Hang my hat.

In a place where...

The bills are all paid.

We are all healthy.

There are smiles a plenty

There is a hot meal coming.

The house is ours.

And there is love, and happiness.

Where the positive outweighs the negative.

Where hope is finally realized.

And not crushed under foot. Or burned on a funeral pyre.

My Manifesto.

2011-09-15T07:15:00.004-04:00

To my daughter, Jenni - Stop choosing fucking losers for boyfriends, stop feeling bad about yourself and realize your potential. You are gorgeous, sharp, incredibly intelligent and talented. Stop selling short. LIVE your fucking life and stop hanging on to assholes and losers who bring you down.

To my son, Billie - Keep working hard and striving to do great things. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't. Just keep on kicking ass. Nothing made me swell with pride more than to see you perform with the Caballeros and go to the championship finals with that world class corps. You are world class. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

To my ex-wife - I am sorry for your pain, loss and and the things you endure now. I loved you with all my heart, even though I wasn't always the best husband. I am sorry that you turned to others for attention, when you could have saved what we had. With just a little love and tenderness and understanding. I pleaded with you until the end, to save what we had, and to be able to have a life together. It was not to be.

To my father - You are a mixed bag. On one hand, the helper. The man who always comes through. The guy who never quits. The only problem is, you took control in return. Enough said.

To my brother - After seeing what infidelity did to my family, you go and do the same to yours. You will be forgiven when you do right, and make amends. Not before. I do not hold out any hope for this, because you are weak and selfish. Our mother would fucking hate you for what you have done. You live with that shame.

To my other brother - You are wise and you have shown me so much. When I was young, I thought you were the wild one. As I have aged, I have seen your love, kindness and wisdom. Thank you for that. You're crazy, but you're my kind of crazy. I will never forget the time we spent in San Francisco. What a ride!

To my mother - I miss you more than I can ever say.

To my friends - Thank you for standing by me. Those who have. Even though I have not always behaved well. The fact that you are still here for me speaks volumes.

To those who left - it was for a reason. I may not have been the nicest person. But I spoke from my heart. You didn't want to hear it. But in the end, it was the truth. I never lied. I told you what I felt and thought. It was harsh at times. But it was what you needed to hear.

To those I have hurt - I am profoundly sorry. I will do what I can to make amends if you let me. If you won't, then I will bear the burden of my actions.

To me.

I am above all else, a passionate, emotional and creative man. My love is in nature and the birds, and I will be true to that person. I won't go to my grave as some computer expert who had a good job. I am worth more than that.

Time to move on.

2011-09-14T16:04:00.002-04:00

I just sent my last 60 dollars to my daughter, Express mail. She moved in with some loser in Brooklyn, NY, in the slums. No job for either of them, living in a shit hole. Why? I have no clue.

My ex wife keeps contacting me and wanting to know when the money will be coming for the rent for her.

She's suffering from a degenerative neurological condition now, that threatens her motor skills. I feel bad about that, and about what she is facing. But am I the knight in shining armor who is going to save her?

No.

I am an unemployed older man with no resources. (thanks in great part to her).

My father sends me an email yesterday.

Tells me that I need to survive to 55 (when I can get my pension), because he and I and the ex need that money.

That pretty much sealed it for me.

I'm moving on.

I have new birds to photograph, and a new life to build.

I won't be sticking around to see how that fucking disaster plays out.

You know, sometimes, you just have to leave it all behind.

And I am.

New photos and new birds await. I can't wait to post about them here.

It's time I started living.

Instead of dying.

Where I live.

2011-09-02T15:31:00.003-04:00

You will find me in the quiet.

The woods before sunrise.

The edge of the marsh, with just the wind blowing gently,
The birds calling.

You'll not hear me

But you may see me there.

Should you venture into my world.

If you come, do so with soft steps, and hushed voices.

For it is here that I live.

And here that I train my cameras on the inhabitants of this beautiful world.

I wish to take nothing but their picture.

To be privilege and heir to millions of years of life and evolution.

For me it is a blessing most kind. To see the lives of these incredible creatures.

The birds.

They soar past me without effort, held aloft by their will and strength and the force of wind and air I cannot see.

What it must be like for them to see me standing here, anchored to the ground. Wishing I could so much as join them for a day. To see what they see. To feel the wind under my wings. To make an effortless turn and reach for the heavens, or dive swiftly like a missile towards the ground, only to pull up at the last second.

Sometimes I swear, I can see them smile at their own prowess.

This is where I live.

Among them.

I can never join them in the air. Though I dearly wish I could.

What I hope to do is to learn more about them.

To witness their amazing lives.

I have seen so much. So many incredible things.

My legacy, should I be so bold as to even proclaim that I have one...

Is to show you their world. Show you just how amazing and at times, awe inspiring it is.

I live there.

I'll show you.

Reflection on this life.

2011-09-01T16:34:00.002-04:00

I have spent the last 5 days without power. No running water. Alone. Quiet beyond quiet, here in the mountains of New York State.

A beautiful setting to be sure.

Ravaged by a hurricane and over a dozen inches of rain, entire towns were wiped off the map.

I have 3 downed trees. One hit the garage. No damage thankfully. Could have been much worse.

I lost some food I had in the fridge. Not a lot, but for me, any loss hurts. I have so little money.

I spent 5 nights in total quiet. Not a sound. Not a voice. Pitch black except for a small oil lamp and a candle.

I learned a lot.

I learned who my friends are.

And who are not.

I learned that my father would rather have me STAY here in the dark, than return to his house.

I learned that my ex-wife's biggest concern is still whether or not I will have the rent money.

I won't.

I will have maybe half.

Why?

Because I needed food. Water. Ice.

So sorry. I have to survive. I guess I should just starve to death to pay.

To pay

and pay

and pay

and pay

So when does it become enough?

Now.

I have changed in these last 5 days.

I am angry.

And there are those among you say that anger is not the answer.

Well, yes it is.

You're wrong.

And I will tell you why you are wrong.

Because your life is comfy. Because you have not lost on this scale or even fucking close to it.

You think I need to be calm, cool and collected.

Nope.

I need to be angry, vitriolic, and violent.

Because that is what this situation demands.

It has come down to my survival.

Something NONE of my friends can speak to. For none of you have this experience, save for those of you who went to war. (for which I will be forever grateful).

But the rest?

You live in your homes, with your jobs and your kids.

You have comfort and security. You have a life. Even a basic life, but still.

Am I bitter? Oh fucking hell yes.

I was taken to the cleaners by a woman and the courts of this state, and laid to waste. I was destroyed.

The stress killed everything I had. My job, career and future.

I spent 5 days in the dark up here in the middle of nowhere.

And I come back from that with a vengeance.

I will not yield.

An not one soul will take one more thing from me.

I am done.

If you have issue with me, bring arms.

Because I will be loaded for bear.

The normal way never leads home.

2011-08-20T19:58:00.003-04:00

If you could imagine the most incredible story ever, it would be less incredible than the story of being here. And the ironic thing is that story is not a story, it is true.

It takes us so long to see where we are. It takes us even longer to see who we are. This is why the greatest gift you could ever dream is a gift that you can only receive from one person. And that person is you yourself.

Therefore, the most subversive invitation you could ever accept is the invitation to awaken to who you are and where you have landed.

When your soul awakens, you begin to truly inherit your life. You leave the kingdom of fake surfaces, repetitive talk and weary roles and slip deeper into the true adventure of who you are and who you are called to become.

The greatest friend of the soul is the unknown. Yet we are afraid of the unknown because it lies outside our vision and our control. We avoid it or quell it by filtering it through our protective barriers of domestication and control.

The normal way never leads home.

Once you start to awaken, no one can ever claim you again for the old patterns. Now you realise how precious your time here is. You are no longer willing to squander your essence on undertakings that do not nourish your true self; your patience grows thin with tired talk and dead language.

You see through the rosters of expectation which promise you safety and the confirmation of your outer identity. Now you are impatient for growth, willing to put yourself in the way of change. You want your work to become an expression of your gift.

You want your relationship to voyage beyond the pallid frontiers to where the danger of transformation dwells. You want your God to be wild and to call you to where your destiny awaits.

The journey shows you that from this inner dedication you can reconstruct your own values and action. You develop from your own self-compassion a great compassion for others.

You are no longer caught in the false game of judgement, comparison and assumption.

More naked now than ever, you begin to feel truly alive. You begin to trust the music of your own soul; you have inherited treasure that no one will ever be able to take from you.

At the deepest level, this adventure of growth is in fact a transfigurative conversation with your own death.

And when the time comes for you to leave, the view from your death bed will show a life of growth that gladdens the heart and takes away all fear.

- John O'Donahue -

To the heart.

2011-08-14T12:10:00.003-04:00

My mother died from COPD and lung cancer, complicated by years of alcoholism and of course, smoking.

People say...she should have taken better care of herself.

When in reality.

People should have taken better care of her.

Just what is life?

2011-08-08T09:22:00.002-04:00

Today I did some research on my physical condition. Severe edema of the legs.

Alcohol abuse for 3 straight years.

Hepatitis when I was 13...adding to the issues.

My liver is failing.

If I don't do something now, I will die. As sure as the sun will rise tomorrow.

I can see all the signs.

Nobody is here to help me.

They all NEED me.

They can't help.

So I am heading back to the cabin.

With a plan.

And one last ditch effort to save myself.

It's just God and Me.

I pray for the strength to reclaim my life, and to heal.

Waiting

2011-08-06T20:55:00.001-04:00

Waiting

by..Leza Lowitz

You keep waiting for something to happen,
the thing that lifts you out of yourself,

catapults you into doing all the things you've put off
the great things you're meant to do in your life,

but somehow never quite get to.
You keep waiting for the planets to shift

the new moon to bring news,
the universe to align, something to give.

Meanwhile, the pile of papers, the laundry, the dishes the job --
it all stacks up while you keep hoping

for some miracle to blast down upon you,
scattering the piles to the winds.

Sometimes you lie in bed, terrified of your life.
Sometimes you laugh at the privilege of waking.

But all the while, life goes on in its messy way.
And then you turn forty. Or fifty. Or sixty...

and some part of you realizes you are not alone
and you find signs of this in the animal kingdom --

when a snake sheds its skin its eyes glaze over,
it slinks under a rock, not wanting to be touched,

and when caterpillar turns to butterfly
if the pupa is brushed, it will die --

and when the bird taps its beak hungrily against the egg
it's because the thing is too small, too small,

and it needs to break out.
And midlife walks you into that wisdom

that this is what transformation looks like --
the mess of it, the tapping at the walls of your life,

the yearning and writhing and pushing,
until one day, one day

you emerge from the wreck
embracing both the immense dawn

and the dusk of the body,
glistening, beautiful

just as you are.

Especially Pogniant

2011-07-30T23:33:00.004-04:00

The predominant silence in which the animal world lives is very touching. As children on the farm, we were taught to respect animals. We were told that the dumb animals are blessed. They cannot say what they are feeling and we should have great compassion for them. They were tended to and looked after and people became upset if something happened to them. There was a great sense of solidarity between us and our older brothers and sisters, the animals. One of the tragedies in Western religion is the way that we have been so elitist in reserving the spiritual exclusively for the human. That is an awful, barbaric crime. When you subtract the notion of self from a presence, you objectify it and then that presence can be used and abused. It is a sin and blasphemy to say that animals have no spirits and souls. One of the cornerstones of contemplative life is going below the surface of the external and the negativity. The contemplative attends to the roots of wrong and violence. Because the animals live essentially what I call the contemplative life, maybe the most sacred prayer of the world actually happens within animal consciousness. Secondly, sometimes when you look into an animal's eyes, you see incredible pain. I think there are levels of suffering for which humans are not refined enough, and maybe our older, ancient brothers and sisters, the animals, carry some of that for us.

We recognize compassion in the willingness of someone to imagine himself into the life of another person. We recognize its presence in the withholding of huge negative moralistic judgment. We see compassion in the expression of mercy, in the refusal to label someone with a short-circuiting terminology that condemns her, even though her actions may be awkward. We see compassion in an openness to the greater mystery of the other person. The present situation, deed or misdeed is not the full story of the individual, there is a greater presence behind the deed or the person than society usually acknowledges.

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight,

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.

The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken for the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.

- John O'Donahue -

To live the life I would love.

2011-07-23T12:04:00.002-04:00

I bless the night that nourished my heart

To set the ghosts of longing free

Into the flow and figure of dream

That went to harvest from the dark

Bread for the hunger no one sees.

All that is eternal in me

Welcome the wonder of this day,

The field of brightness it creates

Offering time for each thing

To arise and illuminate.

I place on the altar of dawn:

The quiet loyalty of breath,

The tent of thought where I shelter,

Wave of desire I am shore to

And all beauty drawn to the eye.

May my mind come alive today

To the invisible geography

That invites me to new frontiers,

To break the dead shell of yesterdays,

To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today

To live the life that I would love,

To postpone my dream no longer

But do at last what I came here for

And waste my heart on fear no more.

The Journey

2011-07-03T21:07:00.000-04:00

Every time you leave home,
Another road takes you
Into a world you were never in.

New strangers on other paths await.
New places that have never seen you
Will startle a little at your entry.
Old places that know you well
Will pretend nothing
Changed since your last visit.

When you travel, you find yourself
Alone in a different way,
More attentive now
To the self you bring along,
Your more subtle eye watching
You abroad; and how what meets you
Touches that part of the heart
That lies low at home:

How you unexpectedly attune
To the timbre in some voice,
Opening in conversation
You want to take in
To where your longing
Has pressed hard enough
Inward, on some unsaid dark,
To create a crystal of insight
You could not have known
You needed
To illuminate
Your way.

When you travel,
A new silence
Goes with you,
And if you listen,
You will hear
What your heart would
Love to say.

A journey can become a sacred thing:
Make sure, before you go,
To take the time
To bless your going forth,
To free your heart of ballast
So that the compass of your soul
Might direct you toward
The territories of spirit
Where you will discover
More of your hidden life,
And the urgencies
That deserve to claim you.

May you travel in an awakened way,
Gathered wisely into your inner ground;
That you may not waste the invitations
Which wait along the way to transform you.

May you travel safely, arrive refreshed,
And live your time away to its fullest;
Return home more enriched, and free
To balance the gift of days which call you.

~ John O'Donohue ~

From a dear friend.

2011-06-24T20:46:00.001-04:00

So much of what delights and troubles you
Happens on a surface
You take for ground.
Your mind thinks your life alone,
Your eyes consider air your nearest neighbor,
Yet it seems that a little below your heart
There houses in you an unknown self
Who prefers the patterns of the dark
And is not persuaded by the eye's affection
Or caught by the flash of thought.

It is a self that enjoys contemplative patience
With all your unfolding expression,
Is never drawn to break into light
Though you entangle yourself in unworthiness
And misjudge what you do and who you are.

It presides within like an evening freedom
That will often see you enchanted by twilight
Without ever recognizing the falling night,
It resembles the under-earth of your visible life:
All you do and say and think is fostered
Deep in its opaque and prevenient clay.

It dwells in a strange, yet rhythmic ease
That is not ruffled by disappointment;
It presides in a deeper current of time
Free from the force of cause and sequence
That otherwise shapes your life.

Were it to break forth into day,
Its dark light might quench your mind,
For it knows how your primeval heart
Sisters every cell of your life
To all your known mind would avoid,

Thus it knows to dwell in you gently,
Offering you only discrete glimpses
Of how you construct your life.

At times, it will lead you strangely,
Magnetized by some resonance
That ambushes your vigilance.

It works most resolutely at night
As the poet who draws your dreams,
Creating for you many secret doors,
Decorated with pictures of your hunger;

It has the dignity of the angelic
That knows you to your roots,
Always awaiting your deeper befriending
To take you beyond the threshold of want,
Where all your diverse strainings
Can come to wholesome ease.

John O'Donohue

Averted Vision

2011-06-18T21:34:00.002-04:00

It's a technique you can use with your eyes, to intentionally focus slightly aside of the thing you want to see. What it does is allow the more light sensitive areas of your retina to capture more of the scene. Especially good when looking at stars, or dim objects.

For me, for the last few years...

I have been using this.

To see the better parts of life more clearly. To look away from the center. To be able to see things that otherwise would not have been as clear.

One thing about averted vision.

You have to look away from what you want to see. Just by a hair.

In the process, you have to look away from those things that can distract you.

For me, that means.

My father.

My ex wife.

They have their needs.

And they are not in line with mine.

Let me make this abundantly clear.

I do not care about your needs, Dad. Not at all.

I do not care about your needs, my ex wife. Not at all.

I have born the burden for too many years.

I am averting my vision.

To see what I need to see.

And neither of you are in view.

Good versus Evil

2011-06-11T21:35:00.002-04:00

Been pondering and discussing this subject a lot lately, with close friends.

And it has been the definition of my life.

Some of the evil I battled was within myself at one time. Ferreting out demons that plagued me.

But now, it has grown to be so much larger than that.

I am at the center of a circle.

With an encroaching horde of barbarians. Looking to lay me low. And not just me. Attacking those who have befriended me. Those who support me. Those who love me.

In the last few months and weeks my eyes have been opened to it.

And they are ramping up their efforts. Becoming bolder. Attacking. Openly.

Trying to take all the good. And destroy it. For their selfish ends

In the last few years, I have been painfully looking for the right path.

When I make a mistake in judgment, or try to take control, the universe kicks my ass. Of late, in a huge, unmistakable way.

I am still waking up to what this is all about. Trying to learn to see what the right choices are

For me and my life. My future. And how that relates to the people I love.

Clearly now there are signs everywhere. I am picking up on them. Understanding what is going on. What people are doing and why.

And inevitably, my conclusion is very simple.

There is a battle being waged. A test of wills, but more than that.

A test of faith and of love, and of the combined power of loving friends.

I am now aware.

And I now see.

And my answer to evil is simple.

Dead silence.

The People I have Met

2011-06-08T17:52:00.004-04:00

During this journey.

The best among them. All wounded souls. All people with great loss, heartache and obstacles.

So very many

So incredibly talented.

They have turned to nature for their peace. For their calm. For their life.

Some are photographers like me.

Others bring birds to life by carving them from wood, to the point where you swear they could take flight at any moment.

Some write beautiful poems. Inspiring words. Heartfelt.

Some just close their eyes, and listen. And connect.

All of us. My friends.

Have lost.

Almost everything.

Marriages.

Jobs.

Their health.

But we all share one thing.

We connect.

With nature. With the outdoors.

With our soul.

With each other.

I love you all.

Of Black Skimmers and Thunderstorms.

2011-06-05T21:10:00.003-04:00

After a grueling day at the job from hell, two Summers ago...

I made the 80 mile drive after work to the refuge.

The sun was getting low. The light was wonderful.

I drove down Wildlife drive, to the first gate. And to my surprise, not another soul was there. Nobody but me at this beautiful place.

The wind was cool and the breeze was light...thanks to a thunderstorm that was creeping in from the west.

I shut off my car, and got out.

I stood at the gate....took a deep breath. And just soaked it all in.

The sounds of distant thunder were echoing.

The Black Skimmers were skimming and barking their adorable calls.

And I was alone with them. And all of this. Just me.

It was a magical moment. One I will treasure forever.

I got no good photos. The light was on the wrong side.

But it didn't matter.

It was just me and the splendor of nature.

There is nothing on Earth like this.

I heard the Skimmers call. The thunder rolled. The wind on my face and arms.

Caressing me.

I was home.

To be held

2011-05-29T18:01:00.002-04:00

Loneliness has been a part of my life now for years. I have had no one to hold, and no one to hold me. For a very long time.

You start to starve for it. You weaken without it.

For the longest time now, I have found solace in my photography. In being out there. In talking with my friends, online.

And no matter what. Nothing takes the place of simple human touch. Of arms around me. Of a gentle stroking of my skin.

The hardest part of the last few years is not the stresses of alimony, my lack of a job or a home.

It is the silence.

And the absence of a hug.

To be held.

My Birthday

2011-05-21T22:13:00.003-04:00

Was today.

53 years old.

Today, I got to see the dreams I once had in the form of another family. What I could have had. What I always wanted. A gorgeous yard filled with plants and gardens and bird feeders. Nature. Beauty. A beautiful loving family, with incredible children. All living that life I so wanted. In every way. It was like looking at the parallel universe. The one where I got to have all I wanted from life, instead of losing everything I had.

I almost lost it there. I almost just broke down. At one point, when their teenage son was showing me around with his back to me, the tears started coming. Took all I had to not go there.

I saw all that I had ever dreamed of. Love, affection, family, harmony. The love of nature, and the birds.

That same family treated me with love and incredible generosity. Just fantastic people, with big hearts. They are all cherished friends.

It was an incredibly emotional day.

Dozens upon dozens of birthday wishes came in from friends on Facebook. Many kind words, hugs, and I love you's.

I spent the afternoon at the refuge, with my cameras. It was a tough day there. Lots of ignorant, stupid and arrogant people. Stressing the birds. (and me). They don't belong there. It's a refuge. Not a playground. That is why the government should not be in the business of managing them. They believe they have to be public recreation lands.

So cyclists, joggers, and complete assholes who could not care less about the wildlife there, use the drive and the trails as their "park".

All in all...it was the generosity of my friends who saved the day for me.

I have one hell of a hard road ahead. They made it just a little easier.

And for that I am grateful.

My birthday has been a source of pain for a number of years now. Associated with the worst betrayal and duplicity I have ever experienced.

While I saw today all that could have been, and it nearly broke me.

It also gave me hope.

As the world races by....

2011-05-02T11:12:00.004-04:00

Bin Laden is dead. The US got him after 10 years.

Hundreds of thousands of lives lost. Trillions of dollars spent on war.

For what?

I am not sad to see him gone. But I have to wonder.

We are racing by. We are careening ahead like a runaway train.

Not only in our country's pursuit of terrorists, and of securing an oil supply.

But for most Americans, in their everyday lives.

I have opted out of the "system".

I won't ever again slave for a corporate master.

I won't every again race down the Garden State Parkway at insane, death-defying speeds to get to work.

I don't care about a big house. A great car, or the two week vacation in Belize.

But almost everyone does.

They toil, they rush, they race. To work. To home. Get the kids to practice for one of 13 programs they are enrolled in.

Run! Go! Get there! This is life, right? Go for it. Move, move, move!! Gotta get home. Gotta get to work. Gotta get the kids out to wherever the fuck they have to go.

Let me see, I have 3.25 hours free on Sunday! Lets go to the park, or the zoo. Then lets make sure to get home, because we need to be there in time to watch American Idol!

Fuck this world.

This is not living. This is a race to the end. And nobody gets to take anything with them.

I've checked out.

You can all race by me. I will be the one in the right lane, doing the speed limit, trying to be safe from all of you insane assholes.

Instead.

I am going to walk through the rest of my life.

With a camera in my hands. With my eyes and ears open to the living world around me.

And I will reach down and feel the moist earth beneath me.

And maybe if I am lucky, I will coax a butterfly to crawl onto my finger. So that I might marvel at the inredible beauty of God's creation.

While the rest of you race home. Race to work. Race to wherever the hell you think you need to be.

I will stop.

And take it all in.

Because life is worth more than to see who gets to the finish line first.

We only get one shot at this.

I choose the road less traveled.

Somewhere....

2011-04-24T08:34:00.002-04:00

Somewhere in my many sealed boxes that sit in this house is a fossil I collected as a child.

Somewhere in that pile are all of my clothes.

Somewhere in there, I might be able to find that hummingbird feeder that needs to be put out for my feathered friends.

Somewhere, at the Cabin in the still frozen garage sits the kitchen table I used to have dinners at with my daughter.

Somewhere in my boxes, are all the cards my kids gave me for my birthdays.

Somewhere.

Somewhere in the carted up, boxed up and stored remnants of the years past is my life.

The few precious things I have left are sealed and stored. Waiting for their owner to open up and fill a home, a yard and a life that sits on hold.

They have been in boxes and storage sheds for far too long.

My wind chimes need to feel the breeze and sing their song.

My bird feeders need to be hung so that my friends can enjoy their seed.

My gorgeous rocks and minerals need to be on shelves so that others can marvel at their beauty and the millions of years it took for their creation.

My life needs to be opened up, and set free.

Home for the Holidays.

2011-04-23T20:21:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.

It used to mean a lot. But, I am no longer a Christian, and I do not follow the ordained or organized religions. So, that meaning to me is no longer relevant.

But the holiday times used to be one of family. We'd all get together and feast. Talk. Laugh, and enjoy.

It seems as if that was another lifetime now.

My mom is gone more than two years. How I miss her. More than I can ever explain.

My dad has a girlfriend. He will be spending the holiday with her, her kids, and grandkids, at her immaculate, impossibly clean house.

I am sitting here in my father's (and formerly my mom's) house. It is a mess. And it is cluttered to the point that those house cleaning shows like "Hoarders" would have a seizure over if they saw it.

My ex has her own home, and lives with my son. She has a sort-a boyfriend that may be a part of her holiday celebrations.

My daughter has moved in with a friend, 3 states away.

So, I will do this.

I am cooking a great meal.

I will spend Easter with my mom.

She deserves to not be left alone.

For my mom.

2011-04-08T11:39:00.002-04:00

A number of years ago.

There was a Daily News radio show on WOR radio in NYC. They were the editors and others from the Newspaper. They had a talk radio show late in the day.

I used to listen on the way home from work.

One day.

The primary topic was about a Whale that was stranded near Point Barrow, Alaska.

The editors and the newspaper gurus were all decrying how we were spending money and effort to save this Whale.

They decried that this is nature, and this is the way life goes.

So, as I drove home from work, I listened to the callers to the show.

And then.

I hear my mother's voice.

She got up the guts to call the station. To voice her opinion.

They were hard on her.

The ridiculed her.

But what she said echoed in my brain to this day.

She said.

We are the most intelligent species on this planet.

And what we do to save other life forms from disaster.............

Is because we were cast with being stewards of the life on Earth.

Not dominion.

The bible tells us we have dominion over the other creatures on this Earth.

But it was lost in translation.

There is a world of difference.

Dominion is for rulers and Kings.

Stewardship is an obligation to keep the lives of those we cherish as paramount. To keep them well. To help them. To bring them to safety.

She understood this.

The radio personalities denigrated her, as I listened.

But my mom held fast.

She said, we are blessed with the grace of God. We are obligated to reach out an help those less than we.

For in that, we are more Godlike.

God Bless you mom.

You knew. You understood.

And so do I.

Butterfly Lane.

2011-04-07T20:49:00.004-04:00

There is a road.

Barely a road.

It courses through the Catskill mountains, near Hancock, NY. It has a few names. Peas Eddy Road. Newman Road.

It's made of dirt and gravel. Very few people ever drive it. It is barren, and cuts through some of the most beautiful country you have ever seen.

On one side of the road is a mountain stream. At some points it is 40 or more feet below the road. There are no guardrails. On the other side are hillsides. Rising at times almost sheer, 60 feet about the road.

In many areas, the hillsides are ripe with flowers.

And that brings the butterflies.

Basking in the sun, the flit from one flower to another.

In days gone by.

My young children, my former wife and I would visit there, when we vacationed at the cabin and the lake. Just a few short miles away.

We'd park at an intersection. Not that you would really know it as such. Two roads meeting where nobody ever drove. In the middle of nowhere.

The hillside was wet with spring water that flowed from the mountain. The plants were in bloom. And my children and I would marvel at the butterflies. The dragonflies.

We'd chase them with makeshift nets. Trying to capture the Great Spangled Fritillaries. The Sulphurs. The Monarchs. We'd get a few, take them back to the cabin. Examine them. I'd sketch them. Then we would let them free.

That was almost 20 years ago now.

Since then, my marriage is long over. The kids are grown.

In the last couple of years, I finally returned to the cabin I called home.

And I went to Butterfly Lane.

This time, armed with cameras. Ready to capture the scenes and the gorgeous insects we enjoyed there as a family, so long ago.

I pull my car to the side, and get out. I close the door.

The only sounds I hear are those of the wind. The water running past me in the creek below.

No children. No loving wife.

Just me. My cameras. And a lifetime of memories.

It almost brings me to my knees.

To see this place we all so loved.

When hope was still alive. When the future lay out before us with promise.

The fun. The laughter. The love of a family, sharing the beauty of nature.

I struggle to my feet.

The tears stream down my cheeks.

And I point my camera at the butterflies. The dragonflies. The flowers.

My heart breaks.

And I hit the shutter. I capture what I see. Gorgeous butterflies. Beautiful scenes.

And with every shot I take, I yearn for that future that was not to be.

I stand there sobbing with the best pictures I have ever taken.

With my gut wrenching from the memories.

Because I just cannot yield.

Those days are long gone. And the hope that was went with them.

I stand in this place, alone.

And I scream at the top of my lungs.

Without making a sound.

Dealing with "Triggers"

2011-03-30T11:09:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, a friend who shared a similar past, and who was also a member of the infidelity support board we used to belong to, contacted me on Facebook.

She wanted to talk about a few things, including a family member she discovered was cheating on her husband.

So we got to talking about it. And through the course of the rather lengthy chat session, she went on to talk at length about her own experiences.

Which started bringing back memories of mine. And one after another, each thing she said would trigger another set of memories.

And I felt myself reliving it. Feeling the pain again. The despair.

I have worked very, very hard at trying to put all of that away. There is nothing I can do to undo it. Nothing I will ever be able to do to change what was.

I have been in a long process of moving on. The greater the distance, the more time that passes, the easier it becomes.

But every once in a while, something can set you reeling. It's like hitting "rewind" at full speed.

I'm better about it today.

But after that conversation yesterday, I was spiraling down fast. A mess of emotions and bad memories all swirling in my head.

I am not sure how to deal with these kinds of "triggering" events, except to do all I can to deflect them.

I don't really want to talk about infidelity anymore. I don't want to know. While I can certainly empathize with those who are there, or who have been there.

I'm DONE with it.

I spent 5 years helping others deal with the issues, the pain, the lies, the heartbreak. And in turn, I was helped by them.

But you reach a point where dipping your foot anywhere in that water is to have your whole body sucked in and under the surface.

This is another part of my learning process.

A selfishness, perhaps...born of necessity.

I can ill afford to revisit that place. To wallow anymore. To allow myself to get wrapped around my painful past, and live there.

And these kinds of issues and things are ripe with the ability to drag me back down.

I'm back on my feet today.

But yesterday was a visit back to hell.

I'm not going back there. I did my time.

Awakening....and beginning to understand.

2011-03-29T10:13:00.003-04:00

For what seems like an endless amount of time.

I have allowed myself to wallow in self pity. To lament. To look backwards.

I am starting to understand. What and why. And what to do.

I am coming to grips with pain and loss. I am finally starting to put it in the box labeled "do not open".

But I have to respect it.

And I have to thank it.

Because without it, I would not be on the path I am now.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. A law of physics.

And in my case, a law of nature.

It has taken me years to get to this point. Years. Maybe a lifetime.

The universe has tried to guide me throughout my life.

It took me half a century to start to see.

Since I was a very young child. All I wanted was to be outside. To lay in the grass and look up at the sky. To look at the butterflies, the moths, the birds. The fish. The animals that lived all around me.

When I look back. I realize. I was happiest when I was there. When I was part of it.

Nature and I are inexorably intertwined.

This is so hard to put into words. Because it exists on a level that is felt and experienced, not easily described with mere text.

All the events of my life served to show me.

That what we do, echoes in eternity. Not just in how we live our lives, but that we live our lives doing what we are meant to do.

To be free to be the person we are supposed to be, means we are obligated to be the person we are supposed to be. (nod to Kris Kristofferson for that line).

When we step aside from that, and think we know better. When we make decisions that go against it. We suffer. We are unhappy.

I believe we all have a reason, a purpose, and a mission in our lives. It is not predestined, but it is most definitely guided.

We fit into this ancient and incredible, living world, in ways we don't often comprehend.

The other denizens of this planet, who have been here far longer than we can even comprehend, all know this.

We are so advanced, we have lost touch with it. We cannot see.

But when we start to open our hearts and our minds and our soul, we can start to. And we can begin the process.

For me, it took adversity and loss and pain. Because I was not following the path I was meant to be on.

I did what I thought I should do. What everyone does.

And it was the wrong choice.

The universe tried to show me, as a young child, and then at many times during my life, what I should do. What I could be, to give the most and best of myself back to this world, to other people, to the creatures I share this world with.

There are hundreds of times now in my memories, where I can NOW, finally see that influence.

If you are truly blessed. You finally reach a point in your life when you know what you are supposed to be. What you are supposed to do. And when you do.

You can finally be happy. Even if the rest of the world will never understand.

All that matters, is that you do.

Get Busy Living, or Get Busy Dying

2011-03-27T09:16:00.001-04:00

I'm unemployed.

Looking for a job still, one that I may actually be able to do, and survive. With no insane commute, no over the top pressure and stress.

I can't take that kind of thing anymore.

After 30 years of commuting, and well over a million miles, my body and my soul cannot withstand it anymore.

I've taken all sorts of hits. Some are because of the actions of others. Some are because of bad choices on my part.

I've lived inside of a bottle. I've known depression on a massive scale.

I've cried "woe is me" way too many times.

But I always seem to be able to somehow...pull myself up from my knees.

I don't have anything.

But I do have spirit. I do have a drive inside of me.

And I remember that line in "Shawshank Redemption", as told by Morgan Freeman's character.

So, while I am still sitting here, still unemployed. With obligations surrounding me. Pay the alimony. Pay the cell phone bill. Lets not forget the car insurance.

So, what am I going to do?

I'll tell you.

I am going to get busy living.

I am hopping a plane with a friend to spend 4 days in Florida and going to shoot at one of the most gorgeous wildlife refuges on the planet.

Yeah.

Gonna live.

And all you can see are the years passing by....

2011-03-23T10:04:00.002-04:00

I've come to see a common pattern among many of the friends I run into, who are out in the field, photographing or observing the birds.

While there is a smattering of young people...

So many of us are older.

Some of that has to do with the fact that when we are older, many are retired and have time to get out and enjoy the hobby.

But there is more.

What I have run into, more often than not.

Are shattered lives.

People who lost it all. Who have nothing left. Who lost their marriages, their jobs, and their fortunes.

Who find peace and happiness in nature.

So many.

And there is a huge difference in the way we look at things and pursue or love and our passion, from those who have not had the hardship.

I have seen many people with great jobs, or great pensions and tons of money, tons of great gear I will never be able to afford. They are impatient. They want the shots. They want their gear to do the work for them. After all, they spent the 50 grand on the lenses and cameras, so they deserve it, right?

The best photographs of nature and the birds I have ever seen come from people with no wealth, no fortune, no wives. No family left. The ones who have lost everything in their life.

Because what they do comes from the heart. With a sense of great pain to overcome. We will sit for 6 hours in one spot to wait for the perfect shot. We will learn about and appreciate and love the birds we photograph.

Because we aren't there to win some award for having the best gear. To show off. To pretend we work for National Geographic.

We will brave the freezing winds, and the insane heat and biting flies of Summer.

Why?

Because when you have lost everything in your life. You are stronger and more determined, and the chance to see that one scene. To capture that one shot. Is what finding heaven is all about.

It's about heart. It's about what is in your soul.

The best of us out there are not the ones who live large.

The best of us are the ones who have lost all.

When do you know?

2011-03-19T20:21:00.003-04:00

If your life is worth working for, worth living.

Or worth giving up on.

So many mixed emotions.

I have been struggling for so long now, I don't seem to know any other way.

There are things that give me hope and promise.

Then, there are realities, which make me realize I may never be able to break the shackles the hold me to the ground.

I am tired of this.

I have paid every bit of the dues I owe.

In work. In life.

I will not settle for a life of hellish bullshit just to pay the bills, to pay those I owe.

Because I owe no one.

I paid that price, in sweat, tears and blood.

Time for me and for my life.

It's been nearly 53 years.

I've done my time in hell.

No more.

Convergence

2011-03-13T19:43:00.004-04:00

At a time in my life when the future beckons, while filled with sacrifices and loss, in order to have what I require....

It all comes together at once.

After nearly 15 months without work, I start a new job in 48 hours. A hellish commute. A huge challenge. A monumental change.

And as it all comes to the fore, the remnants of my family are in turmoil and disarray.

My ex wife is falling apart emotionally, dealing with our son, and with her injury and her condition.

My daughter, having had enough, moved out of my ex's home a month ago, to live with a friend 3 states away.

The whole thing crumbles before my eyes.

And I can do nothing.

Nor should I.

This is the result of decisions and events long past.

But for me to sit here this evening and look upon this is gut wrenching.

I could no more hold that family together than I could hoist the world on my shoulders. Powerless. I watch it dissolve.

What once was a dream. Of a husband and wife growing older, with children moving on in their lives and starting new ones for themselves...

Becomes a lost pipe dream. Something that will never happen. No matter how much my heart wishes it would have been possible.

I scratch and claw and work towards a future for me. So that I can be self sufficient. Pay my bills. Be able to keep a roof over my head.

And I stand and watch as all the dreams I once had burn.

This is beyond painful.

This is like standing witness to an apocalypse.

I know I cannot prevent it.

I know I cannot save it.

It is long gone.

But the pain is not.

And it never will be.

I cannot stand anymore to be witness to the death of my hopes and dreams.

Rip the heart from my chest.

It would be merciful, compared to what I feel now.

Good enough,

2011-03-10T19:14:00.003-05:00

Yeah, I am.

After years. Decades even. Of being told I wasn't. Of watching so many walk away.

I am good enough.

In business. After a long hard slog, I finally have a new job. A new gig. Good rate. Great income. A new chance at a life.

But what resounds in my head through all of this, is how I go it alone.

So many. SO many women who have either flirted with me or admired me from afar were and are unable to be my partner.

They just can't do it. They have a million excuses. They have other men, more convenient to them. Better suited.

Your loss.

I am going to make it. In a little over 2 years, I get a great pension. I will be living in God's territory, doing what I love.

And so many will have passed on the opportunity.

To be a part of my future.

I go it alone.

As it was meant to be.

For what could have been, I will hold a funeral pyre.

For those dreams left to be someone else's, I will burn it down.

But in the end I will be free.

And alone.

Not because I chose this path.

But because you did.

Oh, you want to join me? Really?

Willing to go the distance?

Willing to risk it all to win?

Nah, you won't.

Because nobody out there has either the guts or the vision to see what could be theirs.

What a shame.

What you could have had. ..

Just watch and listen.

2011-03-07T10:56:00.001-05:00

I grew up with CSN. This song was and is one of my all time favorites. It says everything I need to. So, I won't type anymore...

Watch and listen here.

The Right Path

2011-03-05T13:01:00.004-05:00

For nights so long that they darkened the day to follow,

For the toll of a bell, ringing clear and sharp,

Defining with each ring, a loss. A cutting wound.

Until the ringing remained after the bell fell silent.

Tears fell without sobbing. As if from a river within me, with no other course to follow.

From my knees, the heavens look impossibly far.

But their beauty is unyielding.

Time slowed to an anguishing crawl. As if locked in place, chained to my feet.

The rest of the world raced on.

But for me.

At the very last, with no resolve left to summon.

With no battle cry to be heard.

I gave up the fight. And I succumbed. I surrendered.

And at that moment,

My life was returned to me.

For when you lay down your arms and your shield, you can grab hold with both hands.

Of the people you love. Who love you.

You can hold onto hope.

And you can reach out your hands, and let those who love you, help you to your feet.

So that you may walk again.

And my tears became a smile.

For what life gives us, it also takes away...

2011-03-03T14:29:00.003-05:00

The last few weeks have been a time of monumental change in my life.

After over a year without work, I am about to embark on a new job, a new chance. A great paying gig as a consultant, with a fantastic company.

That brings with it challenges all their own. Relocation. Moving things. Preparing.

But those are mostly logistical in nature. Stressful to be sure, but it's just a matter of getting things done.

And during the same time that I got this new lease on life, the past and the dreams of a life long gone arise to tear at my heart, and my soul.

I will never have that family life that some enjoy. A long marriage, the kids growing older and getting out on their own, as we bask in the glow of nearing retirement, and having the quintessential happy American family.

Does it even exist?

For some, I guess it does.

For me, it is on the ash heap of shattered dreams, and scorched earth.

The whole world around me seems to crumble.

My daughter has moved out of the home she shared with my ex-wife. After a huge argument, she left. She's living with a friend. And doing well. I am happy for that.

My son is busy and doing what he enjoys. Working hard, and spending many long days out. He still lives with my ex-wife, but for how long? Probably not a lot longer.

Today, I dutifully picked up some cigarettes and delivered them to my ex-wife, as a favor for her.

When I got there, she was sobbing. She sits in a leg cast in a wheelchair with a broken knee, alone in her house. Afraid and hurting. Her boyfriend and her are done, and she has nobody to help her. She desperately wants and needs someone to help her.

And it will not be me.

A long time ago, she was the love of my life. The mother of my children. I felt her pain and anguish, over the decisions she has made, and the things that have fallen against her.

6 years ago, she stood powerful and defiant. She threw me out of our home, divorced me, and thought the future was hers to have. With an affair partner that had money and means, and who was going to take care of everything.

She cast me to the winds, after almost 30 years of dating and marriage.

And in the end.

I stand here ready to chart a new life. Unable to accept quitting as an option, I am on the brink of a new beginning.

And she is suffering and alone, and our children are moving on.

I do not revel in this. I take no delight.

I can only hang my head.

Nothing I can do will change what is.

But the pain and loss that has ensued from the decisions she made all those years ago, has ripped through my life and hers. And there is no joy here. There is no victory. There is no celebration.

There is only the awareness of a life that is lost. A life that could have been.

And all that remains are ashes.

And I pick myself up from those. And spread my wings.

With tears streaming from my cheeks, I head to the skies.

Life in a Hurricane.

2011-02-28T19:14:00.004-05:00

Today was filled with the building winds of change. That gathering storm.

All at once, I am planning on a new job, a new career. Getting things in order. Forms and documents, now to a point that only a DNA sample is missing from what they need to know from me.

At the same time, I am researching properties to rent, 100 miles from here.

I have boxes here. Clutter, and belongings. Never unpacked.

I have furniture sitting at the lake cabin, in the garage, frozen.

I am blasting ahead at warp speed. Trying to control the hurricane.

Life is on fast forward.

Getting ready to say goodbye to the refuge and my photography, at least as it has been, for now.

Getting ready to say goodbye to my father, with whom I have lived now for over a year.

Getting ready.

To say goodbye to all I have known.

My friends.

My family.

Swept up in the storm, the violent winds of change.

I have no other real choice.

And so few see it.

It is overwhelming. Life is moving so fast, I half expect to go back in time.

But that is what my life has been.

Fast, sudden, immense changes.

In order for me to live, survive, have a roof over my head, and a decent commute to work, I need to pull up stakes, and move. Quickly and efficiently.

And in that process, so much gets laid to waste.

I have never gotten anything without losing so much in the process.

This is no different.

But there is no choice here. I either do what I must, or I perish.

What I would give for a helping hand. What I would give, to have a partner by my side, helping me out, and supporting me through this tough time.

But as always.

I go it alone.

As I fear, it will forever be.

Change

2011-02-26T06:37:00.003-05:00

In my life, it never seems to come in gentle waves.

No time to adjust gradually, or to ease into something new, or different.

It is always comes at me like a freight train.

Either I leap and hang on and try to get control of it, or I get plowed under.

Just yesterday I found out that I will be working again. Got a job offer.

In a place I've never been. In a big city. A long way from the refuge. A long way from here.

It's fast, it's noisy, it's crowded and congested. The drive to get there is insanely long.

The job itself? High pressure. Results expected, quickly. Lots of learning to do to be able to be an effective consultant for them.

I will go from being home most of the time, and visiting wildlife refuges with my cameras, to a 5 day a week long commute to an intense IT job in a big city. Overnight.

I am sure I will be exhausted every night.

But this is not something that is an option. I needed this job, desperately. Without income, on unemployment, living with my father, in a house than needs to be sold soon. The pressure and worry of that was bearing down on me.

For 14 months I have been unemployed.

In that time, I have worked on my photography, made many new friends, had hours upon hours out in nature and exploring what I could.

But you can't have a place to live, food on the table, or even a chance at a life, by doing that.

At this point in my life, having undergone so many disastrous events....so many life altering changes. So many huge losses. I don't like sudden change.

It scares the shit out of me. I never know what's coming. And I have to try to adapt, and often, overcome.

This has conditioned me to be so very gun-shy. Instead of excitement over something new and potentially wonderful, I have to fight back the ugly doubts and fears of what could go wrong. How will I do? Will I be up to the task? Will I be miserable? Can I handle this?

I'm all out of choices. No more options. This is the path I must follow.

My world has been rocked so many times, that what my soul craves is peace and calm. A steady stream. A gentle wind.

Now, I must protect that desire and the dream of that life, by taking on a new challenge. I can get to that life, someday. Maybe not all that far down the road.

But I have to gather all my strength, push back all the fear. Work like hell.

And accept,

Change.

How to say this.....

2011-02-23T21:23:00.001-05:00

I really don't know.

Today, I drove to Newark, NJ for an interview, for a contract job that might be my ticket out of hell. I did really well. The feedback was very positive. I may have this gig. I will know very soon.

At the same time, I get a message from my daughter that her mother has freaked out. Went into a full blown manic episode. And that my daughter is moving in with a friend for while to get away.

Then, almost immediately, I get a call from my ex. Tear filled and sobbing, she says how sorry she is for what she did to me. How she cannot get over that she was so cruel, so mean.

I try with all I have to chart a new life. And I watch as my children and my ex suffer. And they ache. And they reach out to me, as if I can somehow make it all better.

And I can't.

I have to take care of me. For without that, I cannot be anything to anyone.

It seems to happen like this a lot. I am in the battle of my life, trying to get ahead. Trying to find a way out.

And at that very moment, when I need to be at the top of my game, I am thrown these other challenges. People need me. People want me. People so desperately want my help. My understanding.

And I listen. And I counsel them.

But I make it very plain.

I cannot rescue you.

I cannot save you.

You are the product of the decisions you have made.

And so am I.

But I am trying to reclaim my life.

And that comes before you.

Because you are responsible for your own life.

And although I care. And though you have my love.

You do not have my life.

That is mine.

And mine alone.

You can reach a point...

2011-02-15T23:51:00.002-05:00

Where fighting to survive become an effort in futility.

As of today.

I have no income. Other than unemployment insurance, which will run out sooner or later.

I have no home.

I have been out of work for over a year. And every interview I have, every application I submit is met with disinterest.

I have nothing left to stand on.

I will declare this. Loud and clear.

If it is the same by next year, I will no longer be here.

I guess it is time to face facts.

I cannot persist in this battle so that others may gain strength from my fortitude.

I am growing now to no longer care.

I don't care what inspiration you get from me as someone who never quits.

I want peace in my life. I want love. I want some measure of security. I want to be cared for, and cared about.

I want and need help.

And barring that, I will take matters into my own hand.

I have had enough pain.

It has been now, over a decade of loss and of a broken heart.

I do not wish to live this life any longer. I will give it a year.

And that is all.

While the world sleeps

2011-02-14T05:24:00.002-05:00

This morning is not unlike so many that I have begun in the past. Up long before the sun, I prepare myself and my camera equipment for the wonders that await in a few hours.

I will again be taking my trusty old pickup truck to the refuge that has become my second home.

But what strikes me the most during these very early hours is how much my soul and my heart are vulnerable.

I walk downstairs in this empty house, to put on a small pot of coffee. The dogs wake as I approach, and look at me as if to wonder why on earth daddy is getting up in the middle of the night.

And it is ghostly quiet.

Outside the windows is the black of night. And nothing stirs. No one is awake. But me.

There is a peace in this solitary life, but a loneliness that is at times overwhelming.

I am the only human being here.

I do not hear the voices of my children. Now grown, they no longer live with me.

I do not hear the voice of my wife, as we have been divorced for years.

I do not hear the voice of my lover, for I have none.

I do not hear the voice of my father, as he lives with his girlfriend.

I do not hear the voice of my mother, nor will I ever again.

In my head and in my heart, she does still speak to me. She used to live here. And in some ways, she still does.

I can gaze at her photo on the mantle. And still see her smile, and imagine her voice, and her laugh, and our wonderful conversations. The silly puns she used to love to sling, and we'd go back and forth and chuckle over how bad they were, between us.

She was the one who inspired my love of nature, and why I am up at this ungodly hour.

But this life is one of stark and often brutal silence.

I am glad she still speaks to me. Because at times, she is the only company I ever have.

While the world sleeps, I arise to see what I can capture with my cameras.

And I weep.

People have advised me...

2011-02-07T22:13:00.003-05:00

Not to share my heart.

Employers might find this blog and run away in fear, because I am so emotional and "unbalanced".

Fuck them.

I will share what I feel tonight.

My mom. How I miss her so. The only person to stand by me no matter what. She understood me. She cared as nobody else ever has. Right now, she and I could have a conversation, where we both understood where we are, and why we are, and what we feel, and what we hoped, and what we dreamed.

I am surrounded by some well meaning friends. They want to help me, by chastising. By admonishing. Telling me to "just get over it". To "move on". To not allow the past to bring me down.

It must be great to sit on that lofty perch, with your life going great guns. With you having a great job, a loving boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife. Money in the bank. A nice, comfy home. Makes it easy to look down at the downtrodden and tell them to just get over it. To just pull themselves up from the abyss, and make a new life.

Never having had to do that themselves, they speak with such authority.

The clueless.

They find their inner arrogance and declare that since their lives are working and that they have it all going on, that I simply need to do the same.

After all. Follow their example. If they can do it, anyone can. Right?

I want, fervently.

For those who have it all.

To lose it all.

I want to stand in front of them, toe to toe, once they have lived this life, and stood in these shoes, to look me in the eye.

And then preach to me.

Go ahead. Tell me.

Try.

When you finally reach hell, you will understand.

It is not that I don't want a better life. It is not that I don't try.

But you have no concept. No frame of reference.

But I can bring you here. So that you can see.

Let me take all you have. Everything.

Let me strip your life of everything you held dear.

Then stand in front of me and tell me to suck it up.

Oh, you can't?

That is because you are on your knees.

Once you can stand, then you can talk to me.

Not before.

I no longer celebrate holidays.

2011-02-05T11:29:00.004-05:00

Holidays.

To me they are dead.

Christmas.

Easter.

Valentines Day.

They lost their meaning over the last few years. When I came to the realization that people's expectations of the meaning of these days far exceeded their importance.

To me, I try to celebrate every day I breathe.

That means I have a chance to see something beautiful and amazing, especially if I get out with my cameras.

It means I may get a chance to talk to a good friend and just share some laughs.

Or some tears.

And in the daily living. The humanity. The life we lead.

There is cause for celebration.

Of just our life and existence. Of the beauty and wonder of nature.

We don't need a day on a calendar to tell us it is time to celebrate something.

And I reject them all. Because they are all artificial. And to me, they represent dreams and expectations that crashed and burned like a train wreck.

Who needs them?

Not me.

I plan on celebrating the small things in life. The friendships I have. The smiles. The laughs. The hugs. The good times. And the sad times that we share that bring us closer.

Because even in the worst of times, the bonds of friendship are something to cherish and celebrate.

I will never be anyone's valentine.

I will not celebrate the birth or resurrection of the savior. But I do love Jesus for the man he was, and what he showed us.

I will not welcome "Santa Claus" to my house.

I will not stand up and salute the flag on Independence day, though I do cherish those who sacrificed for us.

I will not swill beer and party on a day off, in celebration of some date on a calendar.

I will however celebrate this life, and the people in it, and the glory of nature.

Because that. And they. Are all that matter.

Live

2011-02-05T10:50:00.001-05:00

Wake up. Day calls you
to your life: your duty.
And to live, nothing more.
Root it out of the glum
night and the darkness
that covered your body
for which light waited
on tiptoe in the dawn.
Stand up, affirm the straight
simple will to be
a pure slender virgin.
Test your body's metal.
Cold, heat? Your blood
will tell against the snow,
or behind the window.
The colour
in your cheeks will tell.
And look at people. Rest
doing no more than adding
your perfection to another
day. Your task
is to carry your life high,
and play with it, hurl it
like a voice to the clouds
so it may retrieve the light
already gone from us.
That is your fate: to live.
Do nothing.
Your work is you, nothing more.

What it means to survive.

2011-02-02T17:56:00.003-05:00

My family seems to have a hard time with this concept.

I am seeing very clearly, that they have no frame of reference. No comprehension at all. Clueless.

Totally clueless in fact.

I won't belabor the point any more.

I have to make this very clear.

I aim to survive.

And that means, I will do what I have to.

And YOUR needs will come a distant second. A very distant second.

I once had this very optimistic perception that the people who are your flesh and blood would be the ones to stand by you and help you through hard times.

What I have come to learn is that when the shit really gets bad, they all hope that they don't have to deal with it at all.

I've learned to not trust or count on employers, coworkers, and at times, people who claim to be friends. And now I have learned not to trust or count on family.

Because all they want is for the discomfort of having me here with my issues to go away, so they don't have to deal with it.

Well, I will make it simple for all of you.

Read my fucking lips.

You don't have to worry about me, or how I will impact your lives, or your finances, or your vacation plans.

I will take care of myself.

In exchange for living here with my father, and him having to spend a lot of money to help me, what I get is guilt. Doom and gloom. Foreboding. I am made to feel like a lesser person. Not someone who is respected or cared for, but more of a nuisance, and a drain on their lives.

So, what is the most important thing in your life?

Your flesh and blood?

Your children?

Oh no. Not really. What is most important to people is themselves.

I have taken more hits, and more unfair treatment, and more losses than almost anyone I ever knew. Yet I keep trying. I keep looking for work. I keep trying to break into photography and sell what I can where I can. I keep pushing. I keep hope alive.

And all they can talk of is their situation, their life, how things impact them. Lay on the guilt. Lay on the fact that my situation really impacts them.

Well you know what?

Live a year in my fucking shoes.

I am SO angry.

Everyone has relied on me for decades. And now, I cannot help those people. I cannot give the money. I cannot make it all better. I cannot provide for my kids and my ex wife. I cannot give money to my father to help him.

Because I am fucking DYING here.

And all you do is worry about yourselves. Your life. Your future.

So, you know what?

I am worrying about mine.

You have no idea what I have lived.

And you should fucking pray on your knees that you never have to.

From a dear friend...

2011-01-29T21:12:00.001-05:00

When I face what has left my life,
I bow.
I walk outside into the cold,
rain nesting in my hair.
All the houses near me
have their lights on.
Somewhere,
there is a deep listening.

I stand in the dark for a long time
under the walnut tree,

unable to tell anyone,
not even the night,
what I know.

I feel the darkness
rush towards me,

and I open my arms.

(Lynn Martin)

I went West, but I was not a young man.

2011-01-27T19:38:00.002-05:00

This past weekend was the first time in my life I ever saw the Pacific Ocean. I gazed upon an incredible city. An amazing bridge. I was in San Francisco.

I left the frozen tundra that was New Jersey, and stepped into a world of sun and warm temperatures, gorgeous mountains, trees and green grass and plants.

And what did I see as I walked there.

The young and the beautiful.

I went to the coast in hopes of a job.

When I got to their offices, I was dressed better and sharper than any of them. And I was also 10-20 or more years older than all of them.

Ahh, California.

Gorgeous weather. Beautiful people.

And no place for an old man like me.

I have grown up in the gritty and cold Northeast. A veteran of snow and ice, and long, cold, dark Winter days.

The warm sun and gorgeous scenery was like a reprieve from yet another hellish Winter in New Jersey. It felt good to feel the rays, and to watch the wildlife there, as if Summer never ends.

I went to see if my long years of experience, ability and knowledge would be something that this small young company wanted. They seemed to.

But when they saw my crisp suit and tie, my gray beard and head empty of hair, my face filled with the lines of a hard life....

I knew that I wouldn't end up with the job.

They walked around in socks and t-shirts, and fiddled with their iPhones and Blackberrys. Indulging in the technology. Children of machines, they noticed nothing around them. Just the job. The technology.

Then I stepped outside to wait for my cab.

The sun was beginning to set.

And then, I saw, for the first time in my life, a Rufous Hummingbird looking for nectar in a flowering tree.

Nobody else was there to see it.

But I did. And I watched it in awe as I do all the birds..wishing I had my camera with me.

And at that moment, I knew what I was, and what I am meant to be.

Hand me my camera, friend.

I have wonders to capture, and miracles to behold.

I didn't get the job.

2011-01-26T21:13:00.001-05:00

What else is new, right?

Who knows why, but I suspect it was because of my age (I was the oldest one in the building) and the fact that I was the only one there in a suit.

But this has just made me realize.

I am done with this bullshit. I am done with IT. With corporate America.

I don't give a shit about computers. I don't give a shit about the bottom line.

I am a photographer. A writer. A teacher.

And so shall my life be focused, from now on. No matter what.

The Future...

2011-01-20T11:17:00.001-05:00

Is in my hands.

On Sunday, I fly to California for a second round of job interviews.

If I nail this one, I get a great job with a good company.

Only thing is, I have to relocate. I have to move 900 miles South of here.

And in so doing, I have to leave behind all that I love.

Friends, Family. The refuge. The other places I go with my cameras.

It's freedom. Independence. The ability to live on my own again, self sufficient.

As with everything in my life..

The price.

Is to be paid in blood and tears.

Someday. It is my hope, that I can stop giving all I have to get what I need.

Standing.

2011-01-17T19:39:00.001-05:00

All through my life.

There was never a coach, an opposing player. A fellow student. A boss. A coworker that could bring me to my knees.

I defied them all. No matter the challenge. No matter the betrayal.

Because I did not love them. They were just a part of my life I had to deal with.

The ones who sent me to my knees?

Were those I loved.

And I will never be on my knees again.

I stand.

And that is all there is to it.

Tired of being fucked over.

2011-01-14T22:23:00.003-05:00

I waffle sometimes into the black of the abyss. I bend and yield under the strain.

I look back at a series of blows and losses that would bring the strongest person to their knees.

And I have been there.

And the view from down there SUCKS.

I've been fucked over in almost every aspect of life. But nothing approaching what my ex-wife did to me.

And I am fucking sick of it.

In a week, I fly to California for a job interview. And I WILL fucking nail it.

And I will stand up once again and take my fucking life back.

Because I am SO fucking tired of eating the dirt.

I may have to leave so much that I love dearly behind.

But I cannot stay here with the chains of indentured servitude and poverty around my neck, taking from me the very life force I have.

I will get the fuck out of here. No matter the price.

Looking back.

2011-01-13T16:45:00.002-05:00

It was a hot and sweltering night. July 23, 1998.

My dad and I had just finished the 3rd trip with the boxes and furniture. We were exhausted. We placed the rest in the garage.

We sat outside on the front steps. It was now close to 2AM. We felt good. We both smiled. Thanks to my good fortune in my career, and a little help from him, my new home was finished being built. I watched it every day for the months it took. Documented the whole process in photos from foundation to finished.

It was a gorgeous place. Not a monster of a home, but large enough. With oak wood flooring, ceramic tile. Beautiful carpets. Spacious rooms. A finished basement with an office and even a bathroom.

An acre of property. Plenty of room to put in wonderful gardens, trees and a pond. In a cul-de-sac. Quiet. Private. No through traffic.

We sat on the porch, and listened as the sprinkler system kicked in, and gentle sound of the water made it complete. I was starting a new chapter. My wife and my 2 young kids, would have this wonderful place to call home.

Tomorrow,

I will leave the loft bedroom of my father's house, and head to Trenton. To Federal bankruptcy court.

The house? Gone.

The marriage? Gone.

The career. Gone.

The money. Gone.

The boxes now sit in my father's living room and dining room. And my furniture and other belongings are stored in a frozen garage at the lake property.

In just under 5 years time.

I lost all I had.

Including the dreams.

So, tomorrow I get to go before the creditors and the judge.

There will be no doubt that this will be approved.

After all, I have nothing left to give.

Why AM I still here?

2011-01-12T09:25:00.002-05:00

A question I have asked a few times. Mostly shaking my head in amazement.

My father. The strongest, toughest man I know.

Looked me in the eyes a few months ago and said, tearing up.....

"Son, I do not know how you have survived. I cannot imagine. After all you have been through. I would not have made it. I would have drank myself to death, and ended up in a ditch".

Yeah, dad. It's kind of like that.

I don't know how or why.

But I am still here.

We are told by well meaning friends that our future and our success and happiness is in our hands. That we control our destiny. If we work hard enough. If we keep a positive attitude. After all.

They did it. They made it. So can you!!

The man who told me these things.

Survived poverty growing up in Brooklyn NY, working like hell to get out.
Survived the Korean War.
Survived hardship and difficulties throughout his life.
Survived 30 years of dealing with my mother's alcoholism.
Survived open heart surgery, that saved his life.

And he tells me that what I have faced would have killed him.

I take little solace in that revelation.

I have to ask myself. Why am I still here?

Why didn't I quit and just toss it all in?

I don't know the answer.

Maybe I just fucking hate to lose.

Intensly personal.

2011-01-07T17:30:00.004-05:00

Yeah, sometimes I just have to air it out. And you can read and leave, or comment or do what you will. But this just just me. Being me.

I have live through it all. There is almost nothing I haven't experienced.

And it's all the very worst of life. It's all about loss, pain, abuse and sadness.

For so many years.

Some things I cannot even talk about here, so that I do not embarrass my darling daughter. Who has suffered as I have. In some ways, far worse than anything I have endured. God, I love her so.

The only thing I have not lost in this life is my children. Something I cannot endure even the thought of.

But I have lost everything else.

I am not saying this because I want your sympathy.

I am saying it because you NEED to know this shit if you want half a fucking chance to know who I am.

I have taken it all.

There is nothing on this Earth that I have not felt the pain of.

Cheating. Divorce. Physical, mental and emotional abuse. Loss of home and fortune. Loss of my job and career. Of my dignity.

And so much of it was outside of my control. Powerless. Helpless.

The courts, the police, the prosecutors. They came for me. They took all I had.

The hardest part of this life has been watching my dreams die. The dreams of a lifelong marriage, a comfortable retirement. A future that was bright and promising.

Instead, I sit here tonight writing this from the loft bedroom of my father's home. Unemployed, and heading to Federal bankruptcy court next week to declare to the world that I do indeed have nothing left.

And I simply do not know how to quit.

How easy it would be.

And so many would expect it.

But I just cannot.

I've taken it all. More than I can ever describe. For years, and years. And years.

I wake up every day and fight it.

I don't have anything left of the life I planned. Of the dreams I once had.

But every time I put that camera to my eye.

My heart races. And I smile.

Because for those moments, I am alive. And it is good to be.

And as long as there exists the promise that there will be times like that, I will persist.

Even as the bill collectors beckon. As the world closes in on me. As the obligations to pay a lifetime of support to my ex wife crush me.

I will never quit.

It's like this.

2011-01-06T23:06:00.002-05:00

I've often wondered.

Many women have dated me. A few have been in long term relationships with me.

None worked out.

I am now 52.

Here's how it goes.

You want a great man?

You want someone who will love you forever?

Who will hold you close?

Who gives the best hugs?

Who can cook like a master chef?

Intelligent. Funny. And yes, even still able to perform very well in the bedroom.

This is what it takes.

Just hold the fuck on.

Wrap your arms around me and stay.

You can have all that I offer. You can have the best man you ever knew.

But you have to commit. You have to go for broke.

If you hold on tight.

I will never let you go.

You may not have riches, or fancy vacations. You may not be driving a Lexus.

But you will be loved like you have never known.

If I had a dollar...

2011-01-06T14:36:00.000-05:00

For every tear I have shed.

I would be a billionaire.

Glory Days

2011-01-05T08:59:00.004-05:00

Just like the old Bruce Springsteen song.

And yeah, this is about baseball. About a young man, many years ago. When he was on top of the world.

I'm not going to wax nostalgic except to take it as a lesson to myself. That I was, and am, capable of accomplishing great things in my life.

If I believe in myself.

Back in the hot summer of 1975, I was selected as one of the starting pitchers for the league's All-Star team.

However, one of the coaches thought I was too risky. That although I had the best fastball in the league (over 95mph on some pitches), that I had at times had problems with control. Not often, but every once in a while I couldn't find the plate for an inning, and I would walk a few batters.

Instead, they had a tried and true pitcher from the head coaches original league team. He was cast with being the head coach for this all-star team, and he brought his best pitcher with him to the team. And of course, he was going to start him for the opening game.

I was put at First Base. I was also an outstanding hitter and fielder, so they wanted me in the game. Just not on the mound.

Well, we won that first game of the tournament. He pitched a good game, giving up only 5 hits and 2 runs. I got 3 hits out of 4 official at bats, drove in 3 runs.

That game was on a Sunday. The next game was the following Saturday. And that was a problem. They could not pitch the same person again, because league rules required a full week before they could do so.

So, my coach, who was the assistant coach for the all-star team, convinced the head coach to start me for the next game. There were one or two other pitchers available, but my coach lobbied for me, and won.

I was to take the mound for the next game.

I asked for and got my catcher. We had 2. One was from my team, who also made the all-stars. Fantastic arm, and an incredible glove. Bobby Glassheim. I will never forget him.

Mostly because he was such an incredible partner with me on the mound. He kept me honest. He knew my strengths. He knew the hitters. He was freaking amazing. We were a fantastic team.

After I blew a blazing fastball past a hitter and cleaned up with 3 straight strikeouts, he'd look at me, give me that big fucking grin, and defiantly toss the ball out to the mound for the unfortunate opposing team that had to take the field.

So, I got on that mound that day, ready. It was so fucking hot, but I loved it. Kept me loose and my arm warm. I intentionally eased way off on the fastballs during all my warmups before the game. The teams we were playing were not ones we played during the year, so they had never batted against me. I wanted that first screaming fastball to be delivered as a complete surprise.

And it was. LOL

I heard someone on the sidelines say "Holy shit".

They said that a lot that day.

I went 9 full innings. 12 strikeouts. 1 hit.

I also drove in a couple more runs at the plate.

The doubting head coach was now a believer. He dumped an entire bucket of ice water over my head at the end of the game. You have NO idea how cold that feels when you have been out on the field in 95 degree weather. LOL

One of the funniest things (for me, not for him) was to watch old Bobby when he took one of my fastballs in the center of his mitt. He learned early on to put padding inside, but it didn't always help. On more than one occasion, when I really let one rip, I would hear the crack as it hit his glove, he would stand up, take off his glove and just shake out his hand, in pain. I am sure he never forgot those. LOL

He usually needed to soak his glove hand in cold water after catching me for a game.

So, we had won the first two rounds.

The next game was on the following Sunday. Which meant...a full week would have passed. They decided to put me back on the mound for the 3rd and final game. If we won this, we won the tournament.

I was nervous now. Had come off a fantastic game the week before, but now the pressure was really on.

We (Bobby and I) decided to take a different psych approach to the warmups. We would show them some of the heat. To intimidate. It worked.

When you are an experienced pitcher, you can see fear in a batter's eyes, and their stance. You can tell when they are off balance. And many of them (the opposing team) were. That's when you show them something they aren't expecting, to really confound them. If they are expecting fastball inside, you start them off with a slow curve low and outside. Maybe another one right after that, if they are really off balance. By that time, they have NO idea what's coming next. So, after showing them two outside curves, I'd throw a monster fastball high and tight, and down they'd go. Strike 3.

It's all about being in control.

I pitched a great game. Went the distance. We won the tournament. I led in hitting, RBI's, home runs, and pitched arguably the best 2 games of my life, allowing only 3 hits in 18 innings, and something like 25 strikeouts across the 2 games.

I was on top of the world. All of my skills, the years of practice, the confidence in myself.

In the big scheme of things, pitching 2 games in a long forgotten baseball tournament at 17 years old doesn't mean much.

But it does to me.

It was me. At my very best.

It's time I put that glove and cap back on. And step onto the mound again.

Look out world. Nobody ever could hit my fastball.

Standing at the crossroads.

2011-01-04T18:50:00.001-05:00

Today, almost out of nowhere, a new job opportunity beckons for me. I nailed the phone interview. I have been invited to fly across the country to meet with the hiring manager and others.

It all looks very good, and very promising.

And I need it. Badly.

A great job. A good company. Something challenging, fun, right up my alley.

And in order to pursue it, means I have to leave my home state behind.

I have to leave my friends. The refuge I have grown to love.

And move 900 miles south of here.

If I get this job, it means a new life for me. Independence, a chance at a future.

And in the process, I have to say goodbye to close friends and the only home I have ever known.

I want someone to answer me this...

Why must I lose on such an enormous scale, in order to have what I need in order to survive?

When you have an answer for that, let me know.

This is bittersweet, as it always seems to be.

I have a great chance for a new job, and a future. A chance to pull up and out of this hell I now live in.

And for that chance, the cost is steep. Painful. And I have shed enough blood already.

But it is what it is.

Guess I have no other choice.

Full speed ahead, and damn the torpedoes.

Not good enough.

2011-01-03T23:58:00.003-05:00

The very story of my life.

For my ex wife. I wasn't enough for her. She needed other men.

For the other women I have known. All moved on to someone better than I.

I am not good enough.

Not good enough to love.

Not good enough to stay with.

Not worth the investment, or the chance.

And I got the message.

For all of you, that have moved on. That have found your "true" love.

For those of you for whom standing in life was more important than character, or who the man really is.

Fuck you all.

For you, combined, have so jaded me. So hurt me. So discarded me.

And I deserve better than that.

For a woman who was willing to commit and give her all, I would have been the most amazing, loving partner.

But you all deemed that there are better men out there.

Thanks for that.

I got the message.

I will do the rest of this journey alone. Enjoy your fun, your dinners out, your nice homes, your comfort, your boyfriends and your new husbands.

What you have lost, you can't imagine. But then again, what I have come to realize, is that you deserve what you have.

And I deserve to live the rest of this life alone and destitute. It's just my place in this world.

Guess I better just suck it down.

Ramblings and Commentary.

2011-01-02T20:12:00.005-05:00

Things I hate the very most..

Someone being condescending toward me or looking down upon me. That ranks up at the very top of what makes me recoil. Fastest way to lose my friendship. Permanently.

Being abused. Spent too many years in hell to ever tolerate that again in any form. Mental, emotional, and especially physical.

Politics and Politicians - They make no positive difference in our lives. They exist to serve themselves. They are (with extremely rare exception) all liars and pretenders, fakes and frauds. The Founding Fathers of this country would not recognize this country today, and they would hang their heads in disgust if they could see it.

Television, Talk Radio, and the mass media. It's all noise. It's all worthless, stress inducing noise. I tuned it all out years ago. Don't miss it, at all. Does anyone really think it makes a positive difference in their life? Wouldn't you rather be taking a walk in the woods, or exploring a tidal salt marsh, or spending time with loved ones and friends?

Things that I love...

Being at the cabin and the lake. There is nowhere else that I can feel at peace and at home. That is, when the Jet Skis and Power Boats are not roaring across the lake all day.

A fine cooked meal, prepared by me. I love to cook, and I love to share my meal with a good friend. There is nothing nicer than good food, and good conversation with friends.

My photography, and being out in nature. This was and is the godsend that saved my life. Were it not for this, I would not have survived the last 3 years.

My mother. God how I miss her so.

My dad. Happy to still have him with me after his open heart surgery.

My friends. Although I rarely get to see many of you, and so many of you I have never even met in person...you are my lifeline. And you bring me incredible joy. I hope that I do the same for you.

The National Rifle Association. They have their faults, but no other organization has protected our rights to protect ourselves, and to uphold the constitution, better or more tenaciously than they have. Once we allow our government to disarm us, we are like cattle waiting for the inevitable slaughter. Either by criminals, or by our own government, someday. Our Founders knew this. Shame that so many are so woefully ignorant of it. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. I'd much rather have the means to defend myself and my loved ones, and never need it, than to face a violent criminal or a tyrannical government without it.

My dogs. Fox and Dana. The most charming and wonderful friends. I love them so dearly. Having raised them since little pups, they are with me now over 9 years.

Things I have learned in my long and difficult life:

The people you trust the most can betray you.

The people you think you can trust need to earn it.

When you think you've endured the very worst, something worse can and often does happen.

When you are on your knees, the world looks much different.

That to never quit may mean you still have to surrender.

That you should never give up your dreams. For without them, life is existence, and not the journey you should be taking.

That you can lose it all, and still live.

That true friends will show you compassion and understanding. Not try to tell you that in order to be happy and successful you need to live as they do.

Things I hope for:

Love and affection.

A home with a roof over my head, that I can call my own.

A career that allows me to do what I love.

A life where the amount of pain and loss are less than the amount of joy and peace.

Time.

My Promise to myself:

I have been told. That for me to pursue what I love, my photography...is a pipe dream. That nobody gets to do what they love. They compromise. They take a good job, doing what they can to pay the bills. They then pursue their "hobby" and try to enjoy what they can, on the side.

Here is my promise.

For over 40 years, I have been told by countless people that I have tremendous potential and ability.

So here's the deal.

I AM going to make it doing what I love. And I am that good at it.

I intend to do something I love for the days I have left here.

No matter how many more of them their are.

I am a nature photographer.

2010-12-31T10:32:00.002-05:00

Yep, that is what I am. And a writer. And maybe even, a teacher.

I have SO much to offer.

So, where are you?

You have an untapped resource here, that could provide you with incredible photos of the birds and other wildlife.

A man of passion and intelligence, who could teach and inspire.

Is there anyone in this world, who will believe in me, and give me that shot?

They say it's all up to us to find our way, to chart the course. To network, make friends, get the "in" so we can find productive work.

But you know, sometimes you just need a fucking helping hand.

So, anyone out there want to give me a shot?

Go for it. You won't be sorry.

You'll have the most kick-ass, motivated, talented person you could have ever imagined, who loves what he does almost more than life itself.

I've got it all. Energy, talent, ability. Experience. Business savvy. Professional experience. Mentoring. Management experience. Incredible intelligence. And a host of skills so many would be envious of.

Try me.

Trying to follow the path...

2010-12-29T20:48:00.002-05:00

A good friend has helped me to see and understand. That the universe, the forces around us, try to show us things. That there is a path we can choose and take, that will lead to happiness and peace in our lives. That it is possible. But sometimes the lessons are to be learned the hard way. Sometimes the way is not clear. Not easy to understand.

I know this.

In my heart, what has always brought me joy was being part of the natural world. Exploring. Learning. Observing. Now, using my cameras, to capture the scenes, the animals, the wildlife that is so captivating to me.

I know also, that being at our lake cabin in the woods and mountains of NY State brings me great peace and joy. I feel as if I belong there.

But this world seemingly, and to this point, has little use for the likes of me.

In order to survive, I need income. A good salary. To meet obligations to my ex wife (alimony) and to be able to afford a place to live.

As of yet, I am unable to see how doing what I love can get me there. But I haven't given up.

I have 2 job interviews next week for positions in my old field. Information Technology.

I worked in that field for 30 years.

I don't enjoy it. I don't even care about it. It brings me no joy. And I could hardly care less. It is just a job. A means toward an end. But it would take all of my time. And my photography, and my joy, would soon disappear.

So I face these apparent choices.

Try like hell to get one of those good jobs. Make money. Afford a place to live.

And give up what I love, what brings me peace and joy. Give up the time at the cabin at the lake.

What a choice.

Sometimes.

2010-12-26T21:03:00.002-05:00

You just have to go for it.

Tonight, I decide that I am.

Enough of waiting around to see what happens.

Sometimes, you have to just go for what you want.

And I am. :)

Broken.

2010-12-24T20:07:00.001-05:00

Lyrics by Lifehouse:

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though i still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain, there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain (in the pain), is there healing
In your name (in your name) I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin')
I'm barely holdin' on to you

I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be OK

The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain(In the pain) there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'),
I'm barely holdin' on to you

I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'),
I'm barely holdin' on to you

It just keeps getting better.

2010-12-24T16:34:00.006-05:00

Well, I have 2 possible job opportunities. That's wonderful.

I have an in person interview on Monday. That's 2 days after Christmas.

We are due to get a snowstorm starting Christmas day, and lasting through Monday morning.

So, I went out today, to get a nice suit for my interview. I need one. I have no clothes left, and the last suit I had is in tatters.

So, I called Frank's Big and Tall. I need a place like this because my sizes aren't available at your run of the mill department store. They were great...they said they could have the pants hemmed and get me in a suit today if I could get to the store early.

So, I drove to the store.

And it was boarded up and closed.

I called them.

The nearest store was 40 miles north of where I was.

No time left. They were closing early.

So, I turned around and went to a local department store. No luck. Jackets that fit, but pants sized for little boys.

I gave up.

This is the story of my life. Nothing comes easy. Nothing happens without extreme effort, or travail. It's like I live to jump over obstacles and climb walls.

It's Christmas eve.

And through the magic of the internet, and FaceBook, I read of my friends and their preparations for Christmas. Mostly joyous, festive, wonderful posts. Baking cookies. Making things for tomorrow's big dinner. Welcoming family to their home. Celebrating the joy of their lives. Their children. Their husband. Their wife. Their new love. The beautiful tree. The lights!

And it's all so wonderful.

For them.

Tonight I sit in this shit hole of a house. My dad's house. The king of hoarders, there is more crap in here than a dozen workers could empty into a 5 ton dumpster in 3 days of solid work.

It's quiet. And it is alone.

And I grow bitter and resentful.

I could make a great Ebenezer Scrooge.

I have a bottle of gin and nice cold tonic water, and all the ice I could need.

So, I sit, and I drink.

And I self medicate.

The way my mother did.

She couldn't stand the pain of her life. Of her marriage. Of the conditions she was in.

She didn't drink because she was a hopeless alcoholic with an addiction problem.

She drank because she gave up. Because to do so was the one thing nobody in her life could control. And because it numbed the pain.

I finally understand her. And why she did what she did. And how sorrowful that was.

She was a woman of incredible talent, intelligence, compassion, empathy and sensitivity.

Driven to her knees by circumstances that crushed her spirit.

Much like this life I now lead, is trying to do to me.

My brother recently came to visit. And he and I agreed. Mom (her ashes) need to be at the cabin and the lake. Currently they sit alone on a mantle in this fucking shit hole of a house surrounded by photos of her, and garbage. She deserves better than that.

So, I will be taking her to the lake this Spring. And I don't care what my father says about that. He may have been her husband...but she gave birth to me and to my brothers. And that gives us the right. She is my blood. And she will be at the cabin. The place she loved more than anything. So help me, God.

Tonight I sit here again at this "wonderful time of year" totally disgusted.

I reach back, and try hard to feel the joy of what my friends and loved ones are enjoying. And wishing them well. Because I truly want them to be happy.

But I yearn for December 26th. When all of the pretense of this holiday are OVER.

I am tired of being reminded that I have no wife, no woman who loves me, no family with me, no job, and no money, no home and no future.

Just damned tired.

And the rage builds.

Sadness and loss turns to anger.

Because I have only two choices. I can sit here and wallow and give up. I can cry and say woe is me. Or I can rage inside at the injustice of it all. And I can build a fire inside, fueled by a deep hatred of the forces and people who have made me suffer.

I choose to strike the match, and light the flame.

And so help me. I will burn this misery to the ground. And nobody will stand in my way.

I have had ALL I will ever take.

ALL.

It's my life. And it may be fucking miserable to the end. But I will not allow anyone to chart that course but me.

I'm angry. I'm tired of sucking it down. I'm tired of losing.

I'm tired of hurting.

Done. Time to kick some ass. And I don't even care about taking the names.

Although I know better...

2010-12-23T20:34:00.004-05:00

There are times when I want to say I have had enough.

Where I want to wave the white flag and just surrender.

Throw in the towel.

I am so exhausted.

So drained from this struggle. So forlorn with my circumstances.

Many tell me that the best is yet to come.

That "next year" will be the year.

They have been telling me this for 5 years now.

And each year is worse than the last.

Forgive me, for self indulgence.

But I hate this life.

More than you can imagine.

Every day is filled with raw emotion. Filled with the pain of loss and of loneliness.

I got up this morning and looked in the mirror. Huge bags under my eyes. Wrinkles everywhere. My hair and beard fully gray...now that I am allergic to hair dye, I can't even fool myself.

I look like nine miles of bad road, and like I've been through a fucking war.

And I live in a house full of utter shit that I cannot possibly clean out by myself.

And hell, it isn't even my house. It's my father's.

Of course he doesn't live here any more.

He left me here, to go live with his girlfriend.

So, it's just me, a couple dozen boxes still sealed, sitting in the living and dining room, and even on the stairs, with the last remnants of my life inside of them. Still packed.

And the furniture and other belongings from my past life, sit in a frozen garage at the lake cabin.

I am just existing here.

Month after month. Year after endless year.

I keep trying to work a way out of this. To find good employment, and to somehow make enough money to pay my ex wife her alimony every month, and to afford a place to live.

I have determined that it is all but impossible.

I have a very small ray of hope left. But it's fading.

My photography is great. I do wonderful work.

And who cares?

Nobody.

Nobody willing to hire me or pay me for that skill, to the point where I could survive.

I've got the towel in my hand.

I am ready to throw it in the ring.

I hate this life.

More than anything I could ever express.

I cannot stand the pain, the loneliness, and the hopelessness.

I exist.

I persevere.

And I do it because others rely on me.

My kids for instance.

But that brings me no solace, and no comfort.

And almost no hope.

I hate this life.

And those who helped to put me here.

Because I could have been so much more.

Mixed emotions.

2010-12-23T08:00:00.002-05:00

Christmas is just 2 days away.

And my emotions are all over the place.

For me, Christmas has been a time of great pain and loss over the last few years. I now associate it with broken dreams, failed romances. Broken family. The loss of my mother. And the loss of all my worldly possessions and of my home.

I see others smiling and happy. Together with their partners and those they love.

Festive. Parties. Presents. A warm fire. A nice home.

And it just points out even more to me, how far I have fallen. How much I have lost.

I would love to trade places. But I dare not wish my fate on any of the friends I love.

I am strong enough to survive this.

Not so sure many of my friends could.

And I would not wish it on them.

I don't resent them, or their happiness. I am happy to see my friends happy and enjoying their life.

But I also see myself, and by comparison, my life...

Is so much less than what I wish it were.

I no longer celebrate this holiday. I no longer observe it. Nor will I, probably ever.

You reach a point where the memories of Christmas past become those that overshadow any pretense of what they could have, or should have been.

I am very content to just look at this as another day.

The buildup to this holiday is over the top. The music of the season on every radio station, in the malls, at the gas station!, and just about everywhere. The lights are out on every home. On the street light poles in town. It's over the top, and it's everywhere.

I read stories from people about the thousands of dollars they are spending on gifts, and just shake my head.

I used to be like that. My ex and I used to spend insane amounts on the kids, on gifts.

I have a very different perspective now.

All of that?

Means absolutely nothing.

Being in the position where I can barely afford to give anyone anything has depressed me. I don't want to spend thousands on worthless junk. But I did want to be able to just give something to those I care about. I can't.

Like I said, the emotions are mixed.

Part of me feels like I am "missing out".

The other part feels that it was never really meaningful anyway. It was all superficial.

I'm not a Christian. I'm not an atheist, either.

So, I look at this through a very peculiar set of eyes.

What is left wanting in me is the love and closeness of a partner and of family, together. To be with someone I love and who loves me, and to have my family and children close.

Not because I want to celebrate a religious (and commercial) holiday.

But just that at this time of year, the lack of it seems especially acute.

Shining the light of day on cruelty and viciousness

2010-12-22T16:15:00.002-05:00

This was sent to a friend of mine. A former member of the infidelity board we both belonged to. The message came from the administrators of that site. And I quote:

"Your scorned BW side is coming out. It never takes long with you, does it? Your envy over solid, happy marriages is very apparent. It’s sad that you’ll never experience it."

For a site that preaches forgiveness and reconciliation as the hallmarks of their support network, that comment reveals a lot, doesn't it?

Disgusting, disgraceful, hateful, vicious, and designed to be hurtful.

When you chance upon me.

2010-12-21T14:46:00.003-05:00

Be kind.

Be gentle in your ways.

Do not confront me.

Don't raise your hand, or your voice.

Because I have had all of that I will ever endure.

My heart is soft, and my spirit open.

My emotions are often on my sleeve.

My words and the photographs I take, tell the story of who I am, what I feel, what I experience, and what I have lived. They show you my dreams, my sorrows.

So, when you by chance meet me.

When you want to talk with me. Or ask something of me.

Be kind.

Be gentle.

Or be forewarned.

In my dreams...

2010-12-20T21:17:00.002-05:00

I wake up, at the lake.

She is with me.

The woman I love.

We...the two of us and our dogs, are anxious to start the day.

It looks to be a good one.

Lets make sure those camera batteries are charged!

Oh, and breakfast....

The most incredible omelettes. Asparagus, Cheddar Cheese, Onions. A thick delicious toast spread with Maple Cream from a local grower.

It's going to be a good day.

It took over 50 years to get here. We can celebrate life now. We can celebrate nature.

The birds.

The Butterflies.

The dragonflies.

The aroma of those incredible pines.

We will greet the new day. The birds are already all over the many feeders we have.

The lake is covered with a fine mist and gentle fog. Ready to relent in favor of a rising sun.

And we are ready to go.

What will we see today? What wonderful new things?

And when we come home...a hot lunch of soup and sandwiches. And maybe we'll steal a few Peanut M&M's from the bowl on the kitchen table.

Then, we will head out again. To see what we can see. To capture what we can, with our cameras and lenses. And share those sights with our friends, and the rest of the world.

And as they day winds down. We'll light a fire in the fireplace. We'll bask in the warmth, and the glow and the light.

Then we'll head to bed. To make love. To hold each other close. To tell each other how much we love each other. How wonderful it is.

In my dreams.

And only there.

This is my future.

You Are The Result Of Yourself.

2010-12-19T17:49:00.000-05:00

Don't blame anyone, never complain of anyone or anything
Because basically you have made of your life what you wanted.
Accept the difficulties of edifying yourself
...And the worth of starting to correct your character.
The triumph of the true man arises from the ashes of his mistakes.
Never complain of your loneliness or your luck.
Face it with courage and accept it.
Somehow, they are the result of your acts and
It shows that you'll always win.
Don't feel frustrated of your own failures, neither unload them to someone else.
Accept yourself now or you'll go on justifying yourself like a child.
Remember that any time is good to start
And that no time is so good to give up.
Don't forget that the cause of your present is your past,
As the cause of your future will be your present.
Learn from the brave, from the strong,
From who doesn't accept situations
From who will live in spite of everything.
Think less of your problems and more of your work.
Learn to arise from your pain,
And to be greater than the greatest of your obstacles.
Look at the mirror of yourself and you'll be free and strong
And you'll stop being a puppet of circumstances.
For you yourself are your destiny.
Wake up and stare at the sun in the mornings and breathe the sun of dawn.
You're part of the strength of your life now,
Rise up, fight, walk, be sure and you'll win in life.
Don't ever think of 'fate'
For fate is the excuse of failures.

This Christmas Morning.

2010-12-17T23:53:00.003-05:00

I will wake at 4:15.

There is no tree. There are no presents. There is no wife. There are no kids here. They are at their mother's house. And they will have a morning that she has planned.

My father will be fast asleep at his girlfriend's house.

My mother, gone now almost 2 years, will be with me in spirit.

As I sling the camera over my shoulder.

And head to the last home I have.

The refuge.

I will head out Christmas day, with my 1999 Dodge Ram as my trusty steed, and head to Forsythe.

To see what nature has to offer me this day.

And I will be blessed.

And I will be home.

Merry Christmas to all of my friends. May this day be a wonderful one for you.

For me, it will be one where the birds are my family. The sun and the sky my companion.

I will be home.

A place I have longed for, forever.

Sometimes, you only need a few words.

2010-12-17T19:43:00.001-05:00

My dad, from his hospital bed. To me, on the phone. After open heart surgery:

"Son, I am so happy to be here talking with you right now".

Yeah, dad. Me too. :)

Defiance

2010-12-15T20:59:00.004-05:00

My former username, on a board I used to belong to. For over 5 years.

And so fitting. Because I just never quit. And as hard as things get, I will never relent.

At times, just so I can show all the assholes who doubted me in my life can suck it down.

For all of my life. I did what I could in my chosen field, which was IT.

Supercomputing and Scientific Computing, to be exact.

And all during that time, my skills. My ability. Were always overshadowed by my superiors.

Most of them feared me. Because they knew that I was sharper than they were. Able to speak better than they were. Able to write, better than they.

I was an imposing figure. Large of stature, confident, intelligent, sharp, and very well spoken.

They HATED that.

So now, I am a nature photographer. I work with all I have to get the best shots I possibly can.

And my work speaks for itself.

And now, nobody can stand over me and keep me down. They can't say I am not a great performer. They can't stop me from showing what I can do.

My photos speak for themselves.

So, to all of you bosses, superiors, and other insecure assholes who kept me down, all those years.

Fucking SUCK IT DOWN.

Because even if I never make another dime. I have shown what I am capable of. And there is nothing on this Earth you can do to stop me.

Yeah, I am bragging.

In your face, motherfuckers.

You pretenders. With no real talent, just a line of bullshit and a brown nose. You made your way by sucking up.

I made my way by using my talents and ability.

Something you will never have.

I know that I can kick all ass as a photographer. Because I am doing what I love, with an intense passion you will never understand.

You want a paycheck and a life with a great house, a great car, and a wife with DD boobs at your beck and call.

And I want to know what it means to realize my potential. To do what I love. To connect with nature and to show the world what I see, what I feel, and what I experience.

And with any luck at all, to inspire others to do the same.

So, enjoy your nice home, your sexy wife, and the comforts you hold dear.

And I will fight the bitter cold, the wind, and the rain and snow.

To show people what it really means.

To live.

Fumbling for the words...

2010-12-15T19:45:00.001-05:00

My dad survived his heart surgery and is recovering in ICU.

I have no idea how. Or why. I am still here.

I have had SO much to deal with, that there must be someone or something else holding me up.

I cannot even describe how much I have had to endure. Emotionally and otherwise.

Today was the longest day of my life.

I am fighting with all I have to celebrate this life. To be grateful for what I have.

And as of tonight, I still have my dad.

The man who tossed a baseball with me after work, every night in the summer.

40 years ago.

I love you dad.

Thank you for not leaving me here alone. :(

Love,

Your son.

Test me.

2010-12-14T20:51:00.003-05:00

Yeah, go for it.

Is there nothing that I won't have to try to deal with? I sometimes wonder.

While i waver and sometimes flail under the strain, I keep having to rally whatever the hell is inside of me to deal with all sorts of stress. Usually all at once.

Tonight, I visited my dad, who goes for a life-saving quadruple bypass open heart procedure. Tomorrow.

At the same time, I was called upon by my incredible and wonderful daughter, because she needed support and someone to listen to her. There had been an emotional and difficult issue at home with her mom and her brother. And she wanted someone there to just listen to her.

So, I dug down deep and found that reserve. To listen, to care, to advise when I thought it was a good idea.

I am sitting here tonight, dealing with an almost overwhelming sense of emotion, and so little power.

I can do nothing to help my dad. But I love him and worry about him.

I can do some to help my daughter, but her life is in her hands. She is a young woman. An adult. I try to be what I can for her.

My unemployment runs out next week.

There is no job.

There is no more money.

The stress is overwhelming.

I have no idea what I am going to do. Or how I will survive. Or what will come.

I sit here tonight completely at the mercy of the fates. Of god, in whatever form.

Helpless, powerless and alone.

I am hanging on by a thread.

But, make no mistake. I am still holding on.

Whatever comes will come. And I am powerless to stop it.

The Year In Pictures.

2010-12-13T12:56:00.003-05:00

Lots of people do these. I used to.

This year, the pictures are going to be from my mind's eye. While I envision them, I will write about them.

This was the year 2010. Through my eyes.

By the middle of January, it was clear. I was going to be let go from my job. The job for which hell is to tame a word to describe. After enduring 11 months at the hands of a hyperactive, abusive, micromanaging asshole of a boss, and working in the worst job I had ever experienced...the axe came down.

And I knew full well it was coming. I would drive the nearly 2 hours each way, every day. That combined with the work and the job itself...was killing me.

By the fall of the previous year, on the way home from work one day, I said aloud to myself in the car. "I am not going to make it".

My health was suffering. I had severe edema in both lower legs. The stress was over the top. And I decided to just let it all go. I filed for short term disability. Denied. Shortly after that, I was let go.

That was January.

Once I knew of my fate, I notified my landlord of the job loss, and that I would be vacating early, and moving in with my father. A place I had lived just 4 years earlier, when my ex wife threw me out of my home with a restraining order. I thought I was doing them a favor. I could have just not paid rent for a couple months and waited for the eviction notice.

Through the help of my father, I secured a mover. The same mover who had now moved me and my family 4 times previously. He and his company had moved me just 3 years before, to that very townhouse. Now, he was coming to pack me up, and move me to storage, and some things to my father's home.

The place was crowded to begin with. Once everything was packed, it was jammed. Hardly able to move. The things I had to move myself were exhausting. I was already spent from the months of hell preceding this.

I had to relinquish my independence. Yet again.

The day before the trucks came. A Nor'easter hit and dumped 26 inches of snow. We had to move after a blizzard. The roads were barely plowed. Getting things into and out of the trucks was a nightmare. A fitting end, apparently, to my short tenure as a single man, with my own home.

I moved on Valentine's day. A day that has lost any and all meaning to me to begin with. While others were snuggling up or going out with their sweethearts, I was watching yet another dream die. Alone. Box by box.

My mother had been gone a year now, by this time. Going back into that house was heart-wrenching. Instead of her greeting me and giving me a hug, I got to see a box with her ashes, and a photo of her on the mantle.

I had worked hard to get out of the situation I was in. I had been thrown out by a vengeful ex-wife who was in the midst of her second affair. After the divorce was final, and the house was on the market, we figured out a way to get me and my daughter into a townhouse of our own. It was not to last. Before I ended up moving back here, my daughter had moved back in with her mother and brother.

So, on February 15th, 2010, I woke up in the same bedroom in the upstairs loft of my parent's home, now occupied only by my father.

My two dogs came along. Thank goodness, my father was willing to tolerate them. I would have never been able to part with them. To this day, they are my faithful and loving (and silly) companions.

I had to give away the 3 Chinchillas. I adored them. But there was no way for them to come here. Thankfully, some very good friends took them, and they are doing wonderfully in their new home.

Every month, I would send out job applications. And hear nothing. Crickets.

I poured a ton of energy into my photography. Trying to make headway there, to see if there was something I could put together that might raise some income. While I got some incredible shots, I have made nothing in the way of income by doing so.

By August, we could no longer afford to pay for the storage facility. In it was all of my furniture.

So, we hired a friend to load a truck, and take all of my things to the lake cabin, and store them in the garage there.

Half of my life now sits in boxes in this house. And the other half sits in a frozen garage, in the woods of NY State.

I don't know if I will ever see or own a place where I can unpack.

Right now, I live cramped in a room, with far too much crap around, in a house owned by the king of hoarders. There is no room in this entire house. Just walking through it is a chore. And it is a huge house.

Thanksgiving had many bad memories for me. My ex made some terrible scenes in prior years, with my parents in attendance. Other times, my mother was too drunk to have the holiday, and I'd have to go out at the last minute to get something to eat for all of us.

So, this year, my dad was going with his new girlfriend to her kids' house in NY State. I decided to spend the day alone. My ex invited me to her house. I told her that I won't play "happy lets pretend we are a family" for the kids or her or anyone else. We are divorced. Years now. She has a boyfriend who practically lives there. I let the day pass. And I was happy when it was over.

Today is December 13th.

My dad sits in a hospital bed. Awaiting open heart surgery.

I sit here in the now familiar loft bedroom of his home.

My mom's voice sometimes echoes in my head.

My dad has been living at his girlfriend's house for many months now, and only comes by to feed the cats.

I have no job. And barely any hope of one.

I have 2 weeks left of unemployment.

The landlord? Fined me over 7000 dollars for early termination.

My bankruptcy petition has just been filed in federal court.

I have no one to hold, or to hold me.

And Christmas is coming.

And I do not care. At all.

Each year now, for the last 5 years, I have said that I hope the next year is a better one. A happier one.

I will not hope any longer. Because to do so is a pipe dream.

I need no one.

2010-12-12T12:14:00.003-05:00

Nope, I don't.

I can exist and persevere without a soul here to be with me.

That doesn't mean I don't want someone by my side. I do.

But what I have found in this hellish life, is that is so fucking rare and nearly impossible as to be a pipe dream.

I am not a successful, handsome man, that attracts women.

I am one hard ass motherfucker, however. That nothing can defeat.

Except me. I can do that pretty readily.

Everyone wants something more than what I am. Or something different.

I have a life that now subsists on unemployment insurance, living in my father's home.

To most, that is a disgrace. A real turn off.

And I just don't give a fuck.

I didn't get here of my own doing.

But it is my life, as of now.

And who the hell knows what is to come.

One thing I have learned about loss.

When you lose the trappings of a life. When you lost the job, the home, the money. When you exist as a person for whom only their soul and their spirit survive.

Nobody wants you.

You are an "undesirable"

What the loss of material wealth and self sufficiency brings, is more loss.

Once you are no longer a person with a decent job, a stable life, and a future?

You may as well be dead to the rest of the world.

Okay, can any of you understand this?

2010-12-10T21:32:00.002-05:00

Let's try, okay?

Here I am. I have nothing. No job, no assets, no savings. No money.

And guess what?

Do I care?

Nope.

I am doing what I love for the first time in 52 years. And each day I am out with my cameras, is a love the likes of which I cannot describe.

The smiles I have are bigger than any I have ever had.

I have met so many new friends. Wonderful people. There is fellowship among us.

Many have lost their jobs. Their marriages. Their lives. But we all get together. We laugh, from deep inside.

We revel in the shots we are able to get of the birds.

We talk with excitement of our most recent sightings and shots.

And we slowly forge bonds that are cemented deep within our souls.

The world around us tries to lay us low. But we will not relent. We WILL go out with our cameras. We will endure the bitter cold. And we will LOVE every minute of it.

So what if our life is crashing down around us?

So what if we have no money?

So what if we have no home of our own?

We have each other.

We have the birds.

We have the refuge.

And if we are to die standing there, camera in hand, we would be happy. We'd have met our end at a place and a time that we love.

And among friends.

Who understand.

The number of years we live does not matter.

It is better to perish now, doing what we love. Than to exist in misery for many more years, and end up in some nursing home, where they rob you blind, and you sit alone every day and night, unable to do anything at all.

When I die. I want to be among my photographer friends. Outside. Attempting to get that last great shot.

And I will die a happy man.

Even if I have not one dollar left to my name.

Lessons

2010-12-10T20:22:00.002-05:00

When I was young, I dreamed of a life among nature. I wanted to be a park ranger, or an explorer, or a biologist, in the field. I would gaze at the heavens through a telescope. One I bought from Edmund Scientific. I saved 5 dollars per week mowing the neighbor's lawn, until I had the $115.00 for the 4.25 inch reflector.

I later bought a Nikkormat FT3 SLR, and took photos with it. Some through the telescope.

I loved nature. I loved to explore and learn.

When I got older, I decided that I needed to get a good paying job.

So I did.

Then I met someone, and I got married.

I worked hard at the good job, and was able to eventually afford to raise a family, and buy a home.

I did not like my job. But I was good at it.

Later on, when I was older, I was making more money. So, we got a better house. And again, I wanted to turn this beautiful home and property into something that was a celebration of nature.

I planted 10's of thousands of dollars worth of gorgeous trees. Thousands of bulbs. 200 different species of perennials. I had 5 different species of flowering Magnolia trees alone. A Koi pond. Beautiful paver walks and patios. I worked as hard as I could to make a nature preserve from my 1 acre lot. And to bring the outdoors in, in our gorgeous new home. I hung wind chimes. Bird feeders. It was heaven...or so I thought it would be.

It was all for nothing.

My heart knew to follow a path, but instead of doing so, I tried to compromise and create that path for myself. And I learned a terrible lesson.

I lost all of it. And in what seemed like a fraction of a second, it was all gone.

My love of nature and the outdoors, of wildlife and the birds, never waned.

What I should have done all along?

Was to follow all the signs I had when I was younger. And forsaken the good paying job. I should have followed my love and my passions.

I had the American dream. An attractive and sexy wife. 2 wonderful kids. A nice home, on a gorgeous lot. A great job with a Fortune 50 company.

And then. All at once.

It was gone.

And I learned.

The trappings of that life mean nothing. And they can be gone in an instant.

What I learned over the next few years, was that the most valuable things in this world are this.

The ones you love and those who love you.

And time.

Time to see. To hear. To feel. Time to learn. Time to slow down and take it all in.

Today I am working to see what path I need to take next. But it is finally understood.

I am not an IT guru who wants to work for some mega corporation.

I am a naturalist. An explorer. A photographer. An observer.

That is where I belong.

It took me over 35 years to realize.

The path I need to follow.

The rest of that world I leave behind was without meaning. It was simply a means toward an end in a world that has forgotten why we are here. And what it means to be part of the living world we share with those creatures that we deem less than we.

If we only knew.

I finally understand who I am, and why I am here.

2010-12-09T21:28:00.002-05:00

My dad, the strongest man I ever knew.

Told me a few months ago.

"Son, if I had lived what you have gone through, I would be dead by now. I do not know how you do it"

This from a man who survived the Korean war, and years of dealing with a wife (my mom) who was a severe alcoholic.

My dad is in the hospital now, awaiting major cardiac surgery. '

He's tough. He's in good spirits.

But he is afraid.

Who wouldn't be?

Well, me for one.

I know now why everything that has happened in my life has come to pass.

It was to prepare me to be the rock.

To be the one person for whom NOTHING could lay him low. Nothing could cripple him.

I am so very hard. So very tough, that nothing on this Earth phases me any more.

Yet I still have a heart filled with love. A warm smile, and the best hugs on the planet.

God, in whatever form he exists, has granted me this strength, and this kind heart.

Thank you, God.

I am so blessed.

I have suffered so much. I have lost so much. I have hurt so badly.

But that was just for you to prepare me for who I needed to be.

A man with a kind and loving heart. Soft warm embraces. A keen mind and insight. Wisdom and knowledge.

So that I could be here to help others. Others who rely on me.

My dad.

My children.

My friends.

You knew that in order for me to become this person that I would have to endure terrible loss and heartache.

But that is only because you needed to cleanse me of all of the worldly desires, and aspirations. So that I could be someone better than what I was before.

For all my failings, all my faults.

And all the tribulations that I have endured.

Nothing.

Could kill my heart.

The Job Interview.

2010-12-08T17:43:00.002-05:00

let me tell you a story. A story that seems very relevant now, as my dad sits in a hospital bed, awaiting major open heart surgery.

Back a couple years ago, after losing my job at the time, I had connections and a second interview lined up.

I was to meet with an old business associate now with Dell Computers, and his boss, at a restaurant in West Jersey.

It seemed like this would seal the deal. If I aced this, I was in.

The day before the interview.

My mother died.

I went to the interview. Tears in my eyes the entire time.

I aced it. I was awesome. Where I found the strength I have no idea.

I drove home. Tears streaming the whole way home.

I never got the job.

They froze hiring the next day, and then it was gone.

I pulled myself up and out, and managed to give my best, under the very worst of circumstances.

And I know now, that I was not meant to have that job.

I sit here tonight, after almost a year of being unemployed.

Suddenly, I have two contacts and leads for possible good jobs.

My dad needs a triple bypass and an oblation.

His surgery is any day now.

I worry about him.

I worry about me.

His future.

My future.

All hanging in the balance.

And under the worst of circumstances, I have to try to be at my best.

I have been tested. Over and over again.

And I am starting to wonder.

Is this the life I must lead? Must I do everything when things are at their worst?

I need to impress prospective employers of my competence and experience.

While my heart is in tatters, while my world falls apart. While the stress level reaches is maximum.

I am SO very tired of this struggle.

If something ever came easy to me, I would faint from the sheer shock of it.

Let me ask you.

2010-12-08T10:07:00.001-05:00

Do you know what it feels like to lose all hope?

Do you know what it feels like to think that dying is preferable to living in hell?

Well, if you have no concept of what that feels like, just fucking ASK me.

I will tell you all about it.

Done

2010-12-07T15:09:00.002-05:00

I have tried to keep my spirits up, and to persevere.

I can do wonderful things with a camera, but nobody gives a shit.

I have been told so many things.

Network. Make connections! Reach out. Apply for jobs. Surely, someone, somewhere will see your talent and your worth. Keep at it! Don't quit! Something great will happen!

No, it won't.

I have finally reached that point.

I quit. The words I thought would never cross my lips. I quit. I surrender. I give up.

Whatever the fuck is coming, will come. And I just don't care anymore.

Have I lost my heart?

2010-12-07T13:18:00.003-05:00

My dad is in the hospital, awaiting major open heart surgery, and possibly other procedures.

And it does not phase me.

Yes, I love him. I care. But am I panicked? Nope. I am forlorn? Nope. Am I wringing my hands with worry. Nope.

Am I crying and worrying, losing sleep? Nope.

I just do whatever I need to.

Nothing phases me anymore. There is no crisis. No calamity. No situation so dire that I so much as skip a beat.

I just keep on doing what I have to. And it never seems to penetrate.

Have I become so fucking hard. So fucking cold. That I can NO longer feel?

There seems to be almost nothing that can touch my heart anymore.

Is this inner strength, or simply the inability to feel so deeply as to be moved emotionally beyond the superficial?

Is it that I have weathered so many horrific events and things out of my control, that I simply accept them as such?

My friends are all very concerned. They ask how I am doing. How am I holding up?

Answer: Fine. No different than any other day.

I can't help but feel as if that part of me is dead.

But if it is dead, it didn't die for lack of care.

It was murdered.

You don't see it...

2010-12-05T09:10:00.009-05:00

But I am dying.

A little every day.

I hesitated in posting this, because it is, on the surface, so self serving.

But then again, this is my blog, isn't it?

I've spent many days wondering why the hell I even get up.

I have no signs of hope.

No job on the horizon. No money. No reserve. No future that is obvious to me.

No money, no means. No way to extricate myself from this hell.

My ex needs at least a couple grand a month from me in alimony to survive.

And I am obligated for life to her.

When my pension comes in 2.5 years, I give 45 percent to her.

I will not make it that long.

Yeah, I'm dying.

The body is still intact. I have no cancer. No heart disease.

But I am dying.

A little more.

Every day.

I don't know how long I can hold out.

I know that to go out with my cameras, and be among nature is the one bright spot in my life.

But the world doesn't care how much I love nature.

It doesn't care how wonderful my photographs are.

It only cares about one thing.

Money.

And how much of it I can give.

And I have nothing left to give.

The well is empty.

And each and every day, I wake up to this reality.

And I fucking hate it.

Everyone NEEDS something from me.

My ex wife.

My adult children.

My father.

News flash to you all.

Dues paid IN FULL.

This is my life.

And it's not looking good.

But, I will live it, in defiance of all of you who NEED me.

Because in that sucking vortex of NEED that you all live in, you forgot about someone.

Me.

You know, soon I will be gone.

And then, what will you say?

Will you then realize that you could have saved me?

Will you then come to the understanding? Something I already see so clearly?

Will you get it?

Will you lament your choices?

Will you finally.

Understand?

I hope so.

I have suffered enough.

This is my life, god fucking damn it.

And I am going to live with all I have, until I breathe my last.

And yes, it is selfish.

Because I have given all I intend to ever give.

Now, it's MY time.

So, suck it down. Deal with it.

There is nothing you can do to change that.

Because I am free.

And I earned my passage.

I don't live FOR you.

I live for me.

And I have done all I can, for YOU.

Now, you can either do for me.

Or watch me die.

And I am here, still waiting....

2010-12-04T07:07:00.003-05:00

Today I pack up my photos, for show and sale, to attend a wonderful event at the Lighthouse Center (The Natural Resource Education Foundation of New Jersey) in Waretown, NJ.

I spent yesterday and early this morning, printing.

I also spent yesterday waiting for word on my father's condition. He is in Deborah hospital, with heart issues.

To say this life has been filled with strange and sudden twists and turns is such a gross understatement.

I hold on.

I hold on to the birds. To my photography. To my love of nature. And my dreams.

This world has become so strange to me that I cannot describe.

5 years ago, I lost my marriage. My wife. My intact family. My house. And everything else.

I have been wandering this world for the last years wondering just where the hell I am going.

And you know, I don't know. I truly don't.

My mother's ashes sit on the mantle in the home I now live in.

My father sits in a hospital bed.

My ex wife prepares for Christmas at her house, with our children, and her boyfriend.

I have not been able to fully wrap my head around all of this.

I used to be someone that thought that I could have power over my destiny and my future.

That to persevere, to work harder, to try harder, meant I stood a better chance at "success".

Whatever the hell that means.

Now, all I can do is surrender.

Whatever comes, will come.

And I have no power over it.

I'm holding on.

With a broken heart.

That's still beating.

The Mirror.

2010-12-03T09:44:00.001-05:00

I get up every morning, unable to fool myself.

I used to dye my hair, and my mustache and beard. Until I became allergic to hair dye products.

So I let it go gray.

I used to be heavier, and I also used to work out all the time.

I lost weight, which is good for me. Down 45 lbs. But I also lost muscle tone and mass in the process.

I see these huge bags under my eyes. New wrinkles. Gray hair.

And I feel my age.

And I can see the miles.

The mirror does not lie.

I am trying hard to embrace this part of my life.

But what I mostly see?

That I am aging. That I am old.

My mind is sharp, and I can still get around with the cameras like a young man.

Climbing the jetty at Barnegat Light, getting up early and spending 13 or more hours in the field.

But it's clear.

This world is for the young. The beautiful.

Neither of which am I.

Walk With Me.

2010-12-01T20:29:00.004-05:00

Let me show you.

Let me take you there.

Let me show you the miracles of nature.

Come along.

Bring with you something to record your visit.

A camera, perhaps.

Walk with me.

Feel the air, and smell it. Inhale the scents of the pines and the water and the earth.

Watch the circle of life, right there in front of you.

Walk with me.

Take the time.

Let me show you.

Come with me.

And lets see the majesty and the magnificence of god's creation.

We'll touch the plants and the earth.

We'll watch the denizens of the forest and the marsh go about their unspoiled lives.

We'll soak it all in.

And learn what it means to be alive.

Walk with me.

It's 1:08 PM, Wednesday, December 1, 2010

2010-12-01T13:08:00.002-05:00

And the wind howls. The rain beats upon my window.

My camera batteries are charging.

Tomorrow, the forecast for Conowingo, MD is sunny.

There are Bald Eagles there.

Waiting for my lens to focus upon, and my camera to capture.

My heart will beat faster.

My eyes will be keen.

I will feel alive.

This is what I live for.

The possibilities. The beauty. The majesty.

Of nature.

To reveal herself to me.

May my sight be keen, and my reflexes quick.

There is no greater love for me.

This is what I was born to do.

The Box

2010-11-30T20:08:00.003-05:00

It sits near the kitchen here, at my dad's house.

It has leaned against the wall since February, when I moved in here.

Before that, the box sat in my townhouse, in the closet.

The box.

Inside of it.

Lies a musical instrument.

A finely crafted set of huge and incredible wind chimes.

It was costly.

It is precious.

Each day I look at it.

Waiting to sing.

It wants to be free.

Like me.

It wants to sing in the wind.

It wants to be out among nature. Singing a song that the birds love.

Along with one human being, who aches to hear it's symphony.

I pray with them every day.

To be free.

To sing out.

At the cabin.

At the lake.

With the birds in attendance.

With the trees, the water and the wind, which gives it life and a voice.

As it does for me.

I live for that day.