Above.

"Above." is a series of photos taken to inspire people to explore their surroundings. Also included are aerial views of the locations. Not well received by initial audiences.

Cigars and wine.

Cigars and wine. I live with classy folk.

That old barn.

Ever since I saw it I've wanted to go and explore it. For years it's called to me in a weird sort of way. I think it's a leftover from before the urbanization of this area. It's beautiful.

It's kind of unsettling...

that "House of Leaves" is actually kind of getting to me. I can't sleep, and I can't be awake. It's odd. I keep thinking about the book, looking things up that it references. Thinking about what some of the passages are talking about. Refusing to skip over the more annoying bits of text to get to the meatier discussions of the actual house.

I find myself wondering about my old ideas of "___________". I used to write bits of fiction on that idea. That there is ___________________________. And that _______________________________________. _________________________________________. ____________________________________________. It is actually hard for me to write this down and publish it. This idea of mine is really one of the things I truly cherish. Not many people know about it. In fact, I am sorry to tell you (you already know this by now), I'm going to replace my idea with a big blank space to protect it.

But yes. This book is seriously getting to me. Hell, who knows, maybe It's not "getting to me" maybe I'm just letting something that's been lurking inside finally show itself.

What is this thing? Me being a bit crazier than I let on? Probably. Maybe not.

Ah well. Maybe I'll take up writing again. Finish that short story about "________________". In fact maybe I'll pick up that other story and finish it. If it's bad it's bad you know? The worst that could happen is that it gets passed over and forgotten. The best? Someone likes it, I suppose that'd be the best. Simply having it out of my head and on paper in concrete form would be good. (Mostly because I don't trust my own mind to hold onto ideas forever. In fact I have the unsettling belief that my mind will lose it soon if I don't get it down.)

Hell, maybe I could put a book together. Some photography. Those old short stories. Maybe even a poem. It wouldn't get published. Something that abstract and, (What's the word?) experimental needs a big name to actually draw a moderately sized crowd. However. If anyone knows a publisher willing to put out an experimental style publication direct them my way. Or direct me their way. Whichever.

It's 4:30. I need to stop doing this.