Camera Eye

This was not what was expected to happen. This is not what we stayed up dreaming for every night. This was never supposed to be the plan. So why is this happening to me at this very moment?

 As the sticky humid air created some sort of dry breeze thoughts in my head were screaming negatives so loud that the birds singing in the trees could hear them roar.

“Why do this to yourself?” “This is going to be a disappointment!” “You’re going to be a disappointment!” “Is this really worth all the time that you have?”

All the conversations remained the same. Nothing changed. Every second of every hour of ever day it was the same questions… “What is your major?” As if they actually cared… “What is your favorite hobby?” As if they were actually interested… “What is your favorite thing to do?” As if they were not listening to the question before. Was the problem not they, but I? Which one of us had the power to fix it?

This was the last stop for the day. Everything else was done and over with. Making it through this house would be an unspoken accomplishment in the eyes of a weak, terrified, young freshman. As the first terrifying monster stepped up, a friendly “Hello” escaped from her lips with ease and pride. She was prideful of who she was. She was at ease taking to newbies. Is it possible... She actually could be nice?

Being made to feel at home is precious and courteous gesture that no one has to ever extend. Knowing you are at home when leaving a place that is a special feeling that you very rarely every experience…And in that moment I knew where my new home would be. It would be with my new-formed sisters.

AOII till we die!

Camera Eye (1)

get out of the rental car.                  this is it. the license plate says Florida, but we aren’t in Florida. the Kentucky wind blows through my hair. Its hot in august here. I’m from where the heat f o r e v e r flourishes, this setting was nothing new. right? it was new, new like the latest apple product, or BMW. so exciting and unexplored.

registration. man, i hate this. never had to deal with being unfamiliar to so many people. it was new. opened my mouth only to find words just wouldn’t come out. SPEAK!

LOUDER!

my name came out, in a mousy voice but, it came out. W E L C O M E! greetings came out, in a southern twang but, it came out. look over at my parents, this a big step. would i disappoint them? i wouldn’t dream of it.

heavy luggage being pulled around by parents frantic, calm, happy, and sad about sending their once little girls and boys in diapers and watching sesame street off to a foreign place. it was time for some, it was not time for others. was it time for me?

BING! the sound of the elevator as the doors swung open. sweat dribbled down our backs as we were cooling down from the blistering sun. moving also took a toll on us physically. barge in the room, throw my clothes everywhere. it was only right that i treated my new room as my own at home. after all, this was my new home.

lights? picture frames? pictures of people I used to know to go in those frames? Where would they hang on the wall? Oh, I would just forget about them months down the road. it was a harsh truth i failed to realize. i would not be the same, i would be new. in a good way? maybe. in a bad way? most likely.

Freedom

we had nowhere to go but anywhere we wanted to and nobody to stop us but ourselves we were finally on our own

(how do i cope how do i get by what am i supposed to do)

this world is my oyster and i can take it in my hands and do with it what i please

maybe ill be a doctor or a lawyer or a chef or a banker or a construction worker or a professional athlete or a goddamn two-headed dragon if i want to

(im scared im lost im confused where do i go)

maybe ill move to china to teach english or maybe ill move to the middle east and strike oil and hey i heard its a great time to invest in apple

im tired though i just need sleep

(drink some coffee maybe an energy drink youll sleep when youre dead)

this space we occupy is so mundane that maybe ill just slip off the face of consciousness

(this world we live in is so intricate i cannot help but to lose myself in all of it)

to be something or to be nothing at all is being decided

i want to be something, i just cant decide between a knight in shining armor or the first man to walk on the face of the sun

(or maybe i want to be nothing and slip into a profound state of indifference)

heads or tails

(ill decide tomorrow)

isnt there somebody i can call who will tell me

is there an answer or a reason

(i am the answer i am the reason)

this world is my oyster, remember 

i think being a doctor sounds nice

or maybe a lawyer

being a chef would be fun

nothing would be better than being a dragon though

i think ill decide tomorrow

This pretty much just describes my general sense of confusion about life right now.

Camera Eye

Walk
     down
            the
              stairs
You can hear the roar of the crowd as you enter the double door. It has never been this crowded before. Need to stay close so we don't lose each other. The line snakes through the building. Finally get to the box, hand over the cash in exchange for a hand stamp and a good time.

Another set of double doors. Pull them open and the sound EXPLODES! Yelling and chanting mixed with the indescribable scent of excitement, sweat, and feet.

Time to push your way to the front, get as close as you can without actually stepping onto the ice yourself even though you wish you could. Watching in amazement as the players skate around doing drills effortlessly. They line up and call seniors, its their time to shine as the receive roses and take pictures with families who have bravely stepped onto the ice followed by the National Anthem, all stand, remove their hats and join in together before we start the game of the year.

Cute stuff is over, now its game time! 20:00 on the clock for the first period and the puck is dropped. Hitting, checking, tripping. Always fair when penalties are called on the opponent, never fair when its called on your own team, but we're winning anyway. Every time we score we cheer in unison to let the opponent know who the better team is. The clock is winding down and two players clad in BLUE are thrown out. They walk back out of the locker room. I am standing so close to them I can feel the steam coming off of their skin. Clearly angry at the refs call they stand there and watch the remaining 5:00 of the game and you can see on their face that what ever happens they are proud of their boys.

It's over, 5-2! Time for the other team to HANG THEIR HEADS.Time to warm up the bus and go back to Louisville boys.

We were at the Louisville vs UK hockey games this weekend. It was the last home game of the season and it was crazy.

Camera Eye

Moving on and forgetting letting go of what I thought I truly wanted realizing that happiness is more important than the unlikely fulfillment of false hopes never was worth it to wait and hope never was worth it to deal with all the heartache hard to see at first so clear now easier to see

fog lifted

no smog

poisonous fumes in the air clouding mind obfuscating heart foolishness should have known before no good could come from that from insecurity from distrust from lies and deception never believing not knowing how long my name would even be remembered kept going back still don’t know why never wanted always returned pestering gadfly lonely moon

confess heart broke once

forgive heart broke twice

again heart broke thrice

hot chocolate heart broke the last time

recovery must be chosen but it’s a difficult choice to make to say that I never want this no matter what to fall back blindly into the unknown abyss that is a hopeless future in a hopeless world full of helpless souls who cry out for help from one another and often those calls go unanswered

no Sex and the City dreams just cold harsh reality that sometime things don’t work out what you want there is no storybook ending maybe not even a beginning never took off four books only twelve pages among them shared no plot only pathetic

time to keep moving

don’t look back

fullsteamahead

choice is made have to follow through find the light find the help find what is needed not what is wanted hopefully the same thing but who knows happiness have to have it happiness for once happiness and joy trump card to lonely nights and crying fits trading known for unknown when known is a lost cause is a never-ending cycle of hope and hopelessness

mountains and chasms climbing only to fall to emotional death bleeding heart poisonous touch poisonous plants poisonous people all the same stare at from afar never touch or consume fated to wilt and wither away to dirt once more enticing deadly

let the nightshade die

be happy tonight

Explanation: This camera eye describes making the conscious decision to move on from someone who I had mad multiple attempts to pursue a relationship. Although it was something I originally wanted the endless ups and down did nothing but fill my life with sadness and insecurity. It was hard to accept that sometimes things just don't work out like we want, but once I finally decided to give up on the possibility of anything existing there, my life became much more enjoyable. 

The Camera Eye (1)

(gaze turns outward) shadows shift, planet rotates, while all
v i b ra tes to that eternal song:
(the flies eyes don't lie, my eyes don't lie)
the dancing branches, the rocks infinitely BIG & small,
the coasting bird sailing in all directions known

the     s   p   a  c  e         vacant
of matter,
              matter vacant of $ymbol and title
ALL GOD, all mysteriously near
(but far from comprehension)
penning the last word in place; emotions soar
((quietly)) above and beyond anything tangible.

i love love.

walking slowly, composed and compiled
from the same stuff around me,
playing mind games
for the same sake kids play; excitement, adventure
is what the young know.

curiously feeling for the first time, making new from same;
what same? boredom and lack of imagination creates the same,
isolating intervals (to reach a goal, to solve puzzles, to reduce
conduce, contrive) no time...
"i've been here before."
i say false, "here" is a concept of specific focuses in a relative location;
no moment the same, (no moment) constant flux, gradual decay,
coming, going, everything a little less or a little more here than before.
             nothing repeats
             nothing repeats
             no-thing repeats

meditation takes over,
eyes OPEN glossed over by the infinite;
(time isn't here)
come to, only moments passed in eternity.
(deep) in the sense of unrecognizable,
ALL leaves titles behind, declaration of specifics
creates inevitable bias-ness by the subject,

when i meditate...

i return with a smile, seeing things for the first time     again,
rejuvenation of senses, a point of departure, a feeling of stillness, (time-less)
(to meditate long isn't the goal, but to see GOD in ALL.

mind                       quiet
eyes       piercing                 forward   (through eye-lids)
spine straight, belly breathing  D
                                                eep
nostrils flare, belly e  x  p  a  n  d  ssss
(seeking a forever point just above my being).                 STILLNESS
diaphragm retracts, nostrils slow ly
re leasing warm life into the everything,
body sinks down-
                          ward  into (its self), soil, oneness
repeat: until
ALL IS.
forgotten

Explanation: This is a moment I had while I was sitting and walking at the Henry Clay Estate. The significance is relayed in the piece by revealing the extraordinary in the ordinary day to day activity of walking and being outside.

The Struggles at Life

This is a biography poem on rapper T.I. that shows his bravery and strength.

Clifford Joseph Harris, Jr.

Tip

Alter ego T.I.P

T.I

Hip Hop Recording Artist

Record producer

Actor

Film producer

Published author

Fashion designer

Diseased Father

Rapper at 8

Drug dealer

Atlanta, Georgia

RUBBER BAND MAN

TRAP MUZIK

Grand Hustle Records

Probation violation

Drug conviction

Firearm possession

U.S. federal weapon charges

Threats

Prison

Urban Legend

“Bring Em Out”

Whatever You Like

Dead and Gone

Castle Walls

No Matter What

Mixed Blessings

One of the mixed
blessings 
of being
twenty and twenty-one and even twenty-three 
is the conviction
that nothing like this
all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding
has ever happened
to anyone before.

A passage from Joan Didion's collection of essays Slouching Towards Bethlehem, with a feeling that I can relate to.

Proper Breakdown

A biography about singer Kate Nash following the idea that if someone doesn't believe you can do something, you should show them that you can.


Nash was born, was raised, learned to play the piano; was also taught guitar.
She auditioned, but was rejected.

f ell
d o wn
a  f l i ght
o f  s t a i r s.

Write Some New Songs.
Book A Gig.
UPloaded.

Made of Bricks (2007-2009) was leaked, received mixed reviews; in “pole position for
worst album of the year.”
Made of Bricks (2007-2009) reached Number 1, certified Gold.

Inspire.
Spread The Word.
Collect Donations.

proper breakdown.
isn’t good enough, is it?

Best Female Artist.

Not Afraid

A biography on Eminem who represents courage

one of the best-selling artists in the world
My Dad's Gone Crazy
father abandoned the family

high school
escape
freestyle battles
approval of underground hip-hop audiences
 minimum-wage job
growing stage

personal struggles
abuse of drugs and alcohol
struggles with raising his newborn daughter Hailie Jade Mathers
musical ambitions were the only way
escape
unhappy life

breaking records
10x platinum
rise to fame
Relapse
Refill
RECOVERY
Not Afraid

What then is truth?

Biography on Frederick Nietzsche: this is a passage from "On truth and lie in an extra-moral sense" which i feel encompasses his overall philosophy/person.

what then is truth... 

a mobile army of metaphors?

a SUM of HUMAN RELATIONS, 

which have been enhanced, transposed and embellished 

poetically and rhetorically

and which after long use seem FirM,

canonical, obligatory to a people

:truths are illusions 

about which one has     forgotten

that is what they are;

((metaphors)) 

which are worn out 

& without sensuous power

we do not kNOw 

where the urge 

     for truth     comes from;

for as yet, we have heard

only    of the obligation

imposed by society

that it should exist.

to be truthful: means

"using the customary metaphors"

in moral terms: the obligation

to lie

according to fixed convention,

to lie     herd-like

ina style 

obligatory for all

Portrait of Ella Watson

Here we see a portrait of Ella Watson. Ms. Watson worked on the cleaning crew of the FSA building, solemnly standing in front of an American flag hanging on the wall, a broom in one hand and a mop in the background. Parks had been inspired to create the image after encountering racism repeatedly in restaurants and shops in the segregated Washington D.C. This photo is one of Parks first majorly publicized photos and received much recognition as a true portrayal of a black working woman in the 1940's. She became a focal point in many of his photos in his series of bringing light to the reality racism.
The placement of Ella in front of the flag with obvious distance between her and the flag portrays a sense of isolation from this iconic symbol. The "American dream" of freedom and equality is demonstrated as just that, a dream. Ella is represented as unhappy and stiff, the cleaning tools surrounding her, almost hiding her, or better yet, allowing her to appear as just another object to be used as a means to some other end symbolizes the reality of a black woman in the 40's. At first glance, the subject almost appears to be fading into the flag being lost between the lines. Ella worked nights, which could be speculated that the employers may not have wanted her seen in a public space during business hours. Overall this photo captures a dichotomy of both the victim and survivor of racism and segregation, showing the strength of perseverance to overcome and work with the given in order to sustain life.
 

Suffering Families

            In this photograph we see five children standing at the door of their home. The old screen door is ripped with some of the children sticking their heads out through the holes. It appears that the hinges are barely holding the door up. A piece of the siding next to the door is splitting, further demonstrating the house’s somewhat decayed state. The children are all dressed very plainly, but all seem to be wearing jackets; perhaps this is to ward off the cold air.

            The children are all crowded near the door, practically on top of one another. This is likely a way of showing their cramped living conditions in what is possibly a small home. As the children vary in height, the vantage point of the picture is eye-level with some of the children, while being above or below the others. Perhaps this is to show that just as white people range in status and character the same can be said of African Americans.

            Most of the children have a look of sadness or disappointment on their face. It is possible that they are upset because of their living conditions. The lighting causes the faces of the children behind the screen to be cast in shadow. Their shadowed expressions add to the overall gloomy and depressing mood of this photo.

            As a whole the photographer seems to be portraying a scene of poor living conditions. He is attempting to highlight the economic and social injustice that has befallen this family. The five children are crowded in a home that is quite nearly in shambles and they all seem to be quite unhappy with the cards that they have been dealt by society. The photographer likely intended this photo to represent all of the families who were suffering during the rough economic times of the 1930s.

Sweat

Muhammad Ali by Gordon Parks was among a series a photographs shot during the late 1960’s/ early 1970’s. This particular photograph, shot by Gordon Parks, was captured in Miami, Florida in 1966 and later, became the Life magazine cover in 1970. This image captures a sweat stained Muhammad Ali just moments after he exited the ring. During this period, he was training for an upcoming match against Henry Cooper, a British boxer. At first glance, you can tell that this photograph is harsh by the lighting and the black and white contrast. By the sweat dripping off of Muhammad Ali’s chin as well as the rest of the body, you can gather that he is fatigued and thinking about his training and what the future holds for him. Gordon Parks displayed a constant them of racial segregation, poverty, black urban life as well as freedom through out his career. He captured African-American experiences that really put you at the scene of the photograph and I think that this is definitely the case when it comes to this photograph of Muhammad Ali.  Gordon Park’s use of harsh light in the front illuminates not only his chest but also his eyes that are staring off into the distance. This gives the viewer a strong feeling of what the mood is, uncertainty and vulnerability. Ali is looking away from us and you can gather that he is caught in a moment of indecision and confusion. The face that his whole body takes up the entire frame shows that he is the only focus of this photograph. This melts away all stereotypes and cockiness of a young athlete and puts him on a level with everyone else, as he is just trying to regain his place and confidence. This photograph of Muhammad Ali allows us to view him as a regular person instead of a sports icon or a higher figure. 

One Day Equal

This is an image of a young black boy standing in front of a sign. In the background you can see that on the sign it says "American." The frame cuts off the top of the sign so that you really focus just on the word American. The young boy is smiling and the sun is shining on his face, there are very few shadows in this picture. The first thing I noticed was the little boy and the large grin on his face, the looks so happy and he has a nice outfit on, he looks well taken care of. The little boy is placed under the word American but the photo is taken in such a way that it gives the illusion that we are looking up to him, like he is above us. This symbolizes that he is rising and the higher view, us looking up to him, symbolizes him having power. To me this is showing that blacks are rising up and are becoming equal to the white people. Since this boy is young it is showing that maybe the black people aren't equal to the white people at that point but in this young boys lifetime they will be. Also the detail of this boy being dressed well points to him having power in the future. He does not have raggedy clothes on, he is wearing a nice new coat and a clean shirt and hat. But at the same time the sign that he is standing in front of is a little run down and the word America has scratches on it and the paint is chipping in the right of the picture. This shows that America is a little run down at the time the picture is taken, with the segregation of blacks and whites, but the little boy dressed up foreshadows that this isn't the way is has to be, America can change. In this photo the photographer wants you to see that change is coming and that it is going to be bright.