Pictures

A second post about pictures? is he running out've things to talk about? answer:yes. for now at least. im kind of in a transition for a few days. a proverbial crossroad if you may. i had a thought about pictures as i was going through mine. the sad thing about taking pictures, is that most of the time, you're never in them. i know, "self timer", but its different. its different than standing there, posed, versus stealing a moment. photography for me is all about stealing moments. sinister, i know, but if i want a moment, its mine, as long as i have my camera. it can never fade from memory, or become unpopular to talk about, or be glazed over with the excuse of "too much to drink". that moment is mine, save if i lose my memory card. that picture is there, and obviously, so was i, if i took it. thats the only proof that you were there, is that its on your memory card, or your roll of film. side note: i would like to get into film photography, i like the idea of not knowing your mistakes until you develop the film. digital seems so cold and precise, what is the world without a few mistakes? i've learned they make the best pictures. back on track, if someone were to, say, take your camera and take pictures with it, they could, in theory, lie about being there. so really, unless you sneak a picture of yourself in the album, who knows who is taking the pictures. talk about mistaken identity.

Photographs.

I love to take pictures. if someone asked me what my passion is, i would say photography. I took up photography when i was in the 9th grade, on a whim, when i needed an elective to take sophomore year. i was going to take journalism, but i wanted to get out of class one day, so i walked down to my guidance counselor and changed to photo-journalism. taking pictures after that began as something to do that was different. i have a rebellious subconscious. on the surface, i like to go with the flow, but underneath, i have an innate need to stand out, do something that most people dont do. no other guy at school took pictures, so i'd be "that" guy. alot of times, people want to be "that" guy, but only for the right reasons. they want to be "that" person with the nice car, or "that" person who always gets good grades. it'd suck to have a bad "that" though, like "that" guy who peed his pants junior year, but i digress. i've always tried to figure out why i chose photography to be different, instead of, well, anything else. i like photography because it captures that one single moment, forever, and as corny as it sounds, nothing can diminish that one moment, that one memory, which is now set forever. a picture is one of the art forms that can lie. a person can be smiling and happy in a picture, but be sad and lonely on the inside. camera's capture the superficial, and alot of times, thats what people want to see. if only a camera could capture what the moment felt like, what was in the air at that split second someone closed the shutter, see inside that person to see if they were lying to themselves, like a lot of us do. i hate to think of how photography would change if the human condition was imprinted on a piece of kodak 8x11 glossy printer paper.

Dirt Roads

I love dirt roads. i love the complexity of dirt roads. i love the simplicity of dirt roads. One of my favorite things to do is drive down them, not knowing where im going, in hopes of finding something. it usually ends up ending in a driveway, so i have to awkwardly turn around, or at an intersection of a paved or dirt road. maybe thats why i like dirt roads, they're alot like life. full of forced greetings, some swearing, some scraping by, and the occasional flooring it. you never know what'll be around that next corner. you hope its not another car going as fast as you, or you're fucked. usually you're in luck, but then there's the other time when you both slam on the brakes, take a deep breath, and vow to slow down on the next curve. thats what we do in life. we fly towards a situation with open hearts and hopeful minds, until we almost get hit head on, so we put our guard up for the next few curves. the guard never stays up though. eventually we forget about the past curve, the past hurt, and hit that skinny pedal on the right. who knows if we'll make it, but it sure is fun in the mean time.

Xanga

I found my Xanga the other day. for the youngins', that was the precursor to Myspace. heres one of the quizzes i took, but with answers from today.

Currently Playing: John Mayer-Comfortable, just came on
Name: Brady
Birthdate: 2/6
Birthplace: Fresno, California
Current Location: Hamilton
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blonde
Righty or Lefty: both
Zodiac Sign: aquarius
Your Heritage: Swedish, irish, german
Shoes You Wore Today: flip flops
Your Weakness: Monster Energy Drinks and sweettarts
Your Fears: spiders
Your Most Overused Word on AIM: Do not use it anymore
Your Thoughts Waking Up: can i sleep any longer?
Your Bedtime: usually around midnight
Your Most Missed Memory: last summer
Pepsi or Coke: Pepsi
McDonald's or Burger King: Bk
Single or Group Dates: mixture of both
Adidas or Nike: nike
Lipton Iced Tea or Nestea:
Chocolate or Vanilla: chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee: Coffee with lots of sugar and cream
Smoke: no
Curse: trying to cut back
Have a Significant Other: no
Take a Shower Every Day: haha i try
Think You've Been in Love: No
Like High School: it had its moments
Want to Get Married: someday, someday not soon
Believe in Yourself: most of the time
Get Motion Sickness: nope
Think You're Attractive: absolutely haha
Think You're a Health Freak: good lord no!
Get Along with Your Parents: nowdays? not so much
Like Thunderstorms: love ‘em!
Play an Instrument: none anymore
In the Past Month Have You...
Drank Alcohol: yup
Done a Drug: nope
Gone on a Date: yes
Gone to The Mall: yes
Been on Stage: no
Eaten an Entire Box of Oreos: no
Eaten Sushi: nope
Been Dumped: yes
Gone Skating: nope
Gone Skinny Dipping: ha i wish
Dyed Your Hair: nope
Stolen Anything: not that i remember?
Have You Ever...
Played a Game That Required the Removal of Clothing: haha kings!
Been Trashed or Extremely Intoxicated: yup
Been Caught 'Doing Something': ehh not "something" too bad
Been Called a Tease: haha yes
Beat Up: back in the day by my sister
Shoplifted: no
Who You Were to Fit in: who knows
In The Numbers...
Number of People I Could Trust With My Life: not sure
Number of CD's I own: not very many nowdays
Number of Piercings: none
Number of Tattoos: 0
Number of Times My Name Has Appeared in the News Paper: 3 or 4 times
Number of Scars on My Body: more and more everyday it seems
Number of Things in My Past I Regret: regret nothing

Risk.

That’s right, two posts in one night. Let’s talk about taking risks. It seems to be a recurring theme in my life lately. How do you decide which risk to take? How do you weight the consequences? I feel like I’ve been convincing a lot of people to take risks lately, but am I a hypocrite? I know that a lot of times, I wont take the risk unless I know the outcome. In that case, is it even a risk, or just a cleverly hidden…situation? Man I wish I knew when to take the risk or play it safe. But where is the fun in that? I ask a lot of questions in my posts, I just realized that. No one is going to answer the questions, so I guess it makes me feel better to put the questions on something tangible, something concrete, something I can come back to when I need validation that I’m not losing it. Am I losing it? There I go again…I need to do something drastic. I’m going to dwell on that fact for a while, see where it leads me.

End.

as the summer comes to an end, i feel the necessity to have some closure. summer has been, well, somewhat of a dissapointment. we all glamorize summer as some proverbial season of hope and wonder, but really its just hot as shit and somewhat boring. sure i had my fun this summer, but i also had my letdowns, my heartbreak, and some of my biggest life changing events. sure not everything worked out the way i planned, but it all happened. why cant everyone lust for winter? for fall? for spring? why do we always have to wish away what season we're in now. i guess hope, the belief that things will get better when the weather changes. the hope that when the pools open, love will find a way into your life. the hope that when school lets out, you'll have more time for fun to find you. maybe i'm being melodramatic, or maybe i'm just angsty that my summer didnt deliver everything it promised. its hard to believe that at one point, i wanted summer more than i wanted some ice cream right now, and i really want ice cream right now. maybe im falling into my own trap of wishing away the seasons, but only fall will tell. or maybe winter, or possibly spring.

Truck

So I'm sitting on my bed, trying to make the hardest decision of my almost 20 years, do I sell my truck or not. pathetic, i know. But one has to understand my long history with trucks to understand my current conundrum.

I got my first truck when i was four, I should actually say i got my first truck(s) when i was four, because i got about ten of them. There's a great picture of me with all of them lined up in a circle around me. This was the basis for my love of trucks, i used to have them on my sheets, pictures on the wall, and about a million of them all around my room.

When i was nine, we took our first family trip to New York to visit my grandparents, as we currently lived in California. This was quite a turning point in my truck obsession. first off, my grandfather shared my truck love, as he had two great trucks. he had an old blue one, and his crown jewel, a bluish/green truck that he had since it was new. one of my fondest memories is going with my grandfather in the latter to get coffee and donuts or hot chocolates and donuts for me. little did i know this truck would have a greater impact than anything else in my short life so far. i also received one of my most prized possessions that trip, my father's old toy trucks. these metal, horribly unsafe, but cool set of tonka trucks were amazing. i loved them, even though i was phasing out of playing with toys. i brought home the whole ten piece set, and can see my favorite one on my dresser as i type.

after that trip, i started to forge my favorite memories with my father. he had an old 1977 ford f-100 custom, lovingly named "Big Bird", because of its yellow paint job. my dad used to make his short commute in this truck, and when he got transfered, it sat in our driveway, saved for weekend trips to costco. on these trips, i'd jump into the cab, fasten the old seatbelt, fire up the AM radio, and watch in awe as my dad shifted the big, old, four speed transmission. on special days, he'd let me sit in his lap and steer down our street on the way home. i will never forget that feeling, the bond my dad and i shared those days.

when i was 16, it came time to get my license, and my choice of car was far and few inbetween. it was either drive my dad's old chevrolet lumina that i HATED, or work for something else. i chose work, so i worked nine and a half days a week, six days a week for a whole summer. i finally saved up enough, and when it came time to find a car, my grandfather offered to sell me his pride and joy, the '98 as he liked to call it. i was estatic, and quickly bought it, and waited patiently for it to be driven down to me. the feeling of that first ride is irreplaceable. that truck, dubbed "old blue", was a staple in my high school years, always the truck that drew people together. many a memory was shared in that truck, and i wouldnt have changed that for anything.

back to that decision, keep it or sell it. i've been debating about if for over a year, and im no closer to a decision than i ever have been. as of now, im probably going to keep it, im just not done with it yet, and not in the right time of my life to buy a new car. i just dont know what to do, i wish someone could make the decision for me, but as in life, nothing is ever easy. who knows, maybe i'll sell it to my dad and keep it in the family, or drive it till it falls apart. life is a big river, who knows what you'll catch.