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Tuesday, September 16, 2008

the lit in the john


the dreaded place for a book to be.

it is simply meant an exile. the st. helena or the honolulu for a deposed emperor or a dictator. the Goodwill or the Salvation Army for a thing that has no significant use (or was used before, but was rapidly replaced by something more appealing or advanced or brand-spanking-new). like a vacant space for anything that is junk. 

once a book relegated to that cramped cubicle of solitude, it degrades the value. a bathroom read is the "meantime guy/gal" in the perspective of tight-end spines and crease-free pages. its importance is visually secondary; its relevance, obviously shoddy. from that point, is a communal thing for a literature to commit a conspired redemption---not from throwing itself into the murky depths of the ceramic abyss--but from an eventual liberation on the hands of another.

however, becoming a backlog is a salvation of some sort. like an ex- bound for a reconciliation. a hope that will most likely springs eternal. but for the eyes to feast on, is dependent on its ability to goad. or in most cases, of an empty billfold.

admittedly, i have a few of my own. books that found themselves stacked up with magazines of eons ago, carefully balanced on that lid of burnished white ceramic; and even a small tap would send the entire lot on a tumble to litterbox. they have a purpose, i reckon. maybe why i let them cling to that fate.

as far as bathroom reads are concerned, i am a believer. if not, an advocate. concentration belies the demand for sustenance. a current flow of ideas to counter a physical loss. the rationality had perhaps been proven since man discovered the need. a kind of leisure, so to speak. for that particular interval in time. for whatever reason, it endows a sense of entitlement---a nugget of knowledge in that specific moment. 

never a day that my incursions to the john are marred with lack of reading material. they complete the spectrum of it---like biscotti with a cup of coffee. a filler to that minute box of personal space. whether literature complements, or not, still it is always a must.

the queue:

Gallipoli - Alan Moorehead
The Americans at Normandy - John McManus
Film Noir - Alain Silver (a reread)
The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks (another reread)


latest musing of Etchie at 20:12 0 comments

Saturday, September 13, 2008

rhythm of the rain

the sound of rain enhances one's creativity.

well, at least to me, that is.

there is something magical about rain. something about the continuous clatter of water on the roof. something that is inexplicably mind-numbing. something that, for no reason at all, hollers to the muses to come out.

i love watching the raindrops fall. it prompts the creative juices to flow like the stream of water that gushes forth from the rain gutter and into the soil it nourishes. 

i like the cacophony of thunder, the flicker of lightning amidst the unabetting downpour of heaven's lacrimation as if the world have been bestowed with bountiful charities of the deities above. 

it is that Cascadian beat (pun intended) of pitter-patterings, the melodic clack-clacks on the glass windows, that gives rain a sort of mystical label. 



latest musing of Etchie at 23:17 1 comments

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

playing in dreams.

the evening seems like shallow surf where one wades, but could not get his feet wet. a scramble to view yet like a blind on Braille, barely scratching the surface. 

just listening to Coltrane, melancholic and inevitable. the grit on the instrument, on the rough edges of brass, whispers in the twilight with tranquility in constant orbit. in someway, i thought, of both the eternal sadness and joy, in a dose of music bequeaths. 

on the other hand, reminds me of colorful episodes of the years gone. 

without the compunction, i reel forward to what is now. the lookback, merely, a glimpse. i see everything in consistency, an organized stack of presence. what is destined is what is i should be prepared for. but fate is a game of chance and destinies are gambled. 

from a certain perspective one would see, the unending stream of the mind's images--the uncontrollable emissions of the mental camera. a profundity one can try to comprehend. perhaps, there are definitions. literal or introspective. 

probably i was merely indecisive. but why, for all i care, comes in the wee? in the black of sleep, in the reverie of the bed and pillow party, a quiet storm in disguise. i believe there is the stress abetting. yes, could be a byproduct of who/what i am. the strangeness of it, albeit straightforward, and its relevance is purely coincidental. 

but then, i think i'll have Freud explain that. 

for what its worth, i guess i'm merely wallowing in the playground of my subconscious.


latest musing of Etchie at 00:57 0 comments

Thursday, September 04, 2008

chocolate...eh?

everytime Hannah Montana's dad hands her his trademark concoction, loco hot cocoa, it gives his daughter bouts of chocolate-induced nightmares---ranging from maternal hallucinations (which, somehow, vaguely explains the Stewart family's lack of a mother figure) to a reversal of popularity (with Jackson assuming the equally-doubled-life of Bucky Kentucky). 

with Brianne, i concocted a similar nocturnal beverage, which eventually became a daily part of her nighttime routine. Daddy's Hot Cocoa, she said, well dropping the loco thing, but it's relatively the same---sans whipped cream and a Champola-like chocolate wafer sticking out of the ceramic mug. the secret ingredient, i'll spill, is the personal touch---something that Daddies all over the world magically transform the common into a whiff of extraordinary. 

note: click on the image to open lightbox, then use the left/right arrow keys to navigate through. or you can easily click on a Next or Prev icon on the top left/right of the image as well. it's a tricky bugger, but you'll get used to it. 

second note: you can add up chunks of marshmallow on the hot chocolate if you want to....

latest musing of Etchie at 21:26 1 comments

california dreamin'

okay, so i got itchy playing with Lightbox (albeit, i am still in the process of tinkering with it) and i'll be posting what's left of the Sacramento/San Francisco trip we had last July. 

most, i'll be putting without the usual PS post-process, except for maybe, a level/curve adjustment here and there; the usual watermark and image resizing. however, there will be a few that i did some heavy processing primarily because i did not find such images worthy to be posted unless they are adjusted.

so, here goes:


click on the image to open lightbox; left/right arrow keys to navigate

latest musing of Etchie at 12:53 0 comments

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

SFO

click on the image to zoom; left/right arrow keys to scroll through the images

a month ago, we flew to Sacramento to visit friends (and relatives, as well---although the trip was somehow a bit short due to work commitments [i admit that it will take a full week before you can say that you've made the most of it]). 

the second day, they drove us two hours to San Francisco. here are some the photographs.

note: i'm attempting to incorporate lightbox into the post, and if anything buggy transpires while you view the images, it's probably because i have not been able to fix the whole template yet. my apologies. 


latest musing of Etchie at 15:12 0 comments

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Eccentric. Frivolous. Flexible. Tempestuous. Hyperactive. Thinker. Wanderer. Couch Potato. Lethargic. Insensitive. Repressive. Vain.

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