oh catalina...

She laughed because she knew she couldn't take it with her. Some things are too immense to drag around by the wrists and some things are cemented like the sword in the stone. Her laugh echoed off the high hills and bounced back against the bay, chasing the sunlight out to the horizon. The day was fleeting and the eucalyptus trees hung around just to hold everyone in place. She thought she could dance the night away and watched the stage lights bounce across every ones eager faces. Things always looked best from the side line and when it was all finished she fell asleep on the floor of the boat to the rocking of the waves taking her home.

more love

how do you love?

         I met a man who was only interested in keeping the company of women who always left. Always tethered to some sort of time line, the end always in sight, they leave a day a week a month or so later, inevitably they would leave. I wondered while I watched him what it was that drew him so near to these women. Was it the blueprinted lack of commitment or the passionate fight against fate that forced him to love them so dearly? And love them he did. He loved these women in a way I have never witnessed someone love before. He loved them like these were their last days on earth together.
         A part of me envied his ability to love so truly so deeply so madly, if only for a moment of time. Was it the hurt he was after? He sat there in the summer light sipping hot coffee on a hot June day and everything about him made me question the way I had lived my life thus far. The women he kept company with all held the same virtues, they were frighteningly similar mirrored and distorted images of each other where traits seemed to bleed from one to the next. I wondered which came first, whom had inspired the selection of the rest, or if these women without knowing naturally gravitated toward him.
       They were all painfully bright to a fault and remarkably self aware and yet all seemed to be blindsided by his network of touches and glances, late nights and star gazing. They were all inspired and inspiring on a daily moment and he seemed to draw something from that. She was a dancer and the other a thinker, one was a designer and the other a writer, one was a model and the other a photographer. I am sure there are more I hadn't had the pleasure of sharing a breakfast table with over the summer.
       For whatever reason I became convinced that he had in one way figured out something that the rest of day after day were completely blind of, or he was cursed to love in the most painful way possible. So I ask you, is it better to love fiercely and fleetingly or to love steadily and constantly?

eleven isn't unlucky

For all the things I have ever seen only twice
and once has it since been
a quick look or a subtle smile that I haven't kept
you let everything go far to easily, allow it roll out with the tide
But where will you keep her when they coming looking?
What will you say when they ask you to please, please lie?
You say you're afraid but I could never imagine of what
you have traveled this far on a wish and bad luck
every time you meet you look at something that is not there
but every time you leave you still want once more.
Nothing of something is never enough
and something of her is more than you want.

Can't Move

Against The Bottom

Love the song, Love the video, Love all the fine ladies... well done boys, well done.

A Fine End

I find myself staring down the last week of July and wondering where this summer has gone. Days seem to slip through my fingers like water, quick but beautiful. These days have been filled with yoga lessons, records, beach days, song writing, long lunches, mid day cocktails, sweaty night at La Cave, early morning beach runs, concerts, photos, and endless afternoons of imaginary stories. When I am slaving away this year working two jobs and putting myself through yet another degree I hope I can remember how slow, how sweet, and how simple life will be again come next summer. Some well deserved time off wil be followed up by some honest hard work and while I assume August will flash by as well, I have to remember: it's not over yet. Close, but not quite. We still have some serious havoc to wreek on the fine city of San Francisco and another weekend spent celebrating true love. To the sun that has come and to the horizon beckoning us all onward. I bid you all a fine end of July...

This is what I look like late July, just shy of twenty five. For more Love and Photographs CLICK

If I Didn't Know