-- Early dabbling in photography --

These are my pictures from Dia de los Muertos celebrated at the Centro Cutural de la Raza in Balboa Park.  At the center of it all is of course the Diana Gonzalez mural.  Or, depending on who you ask, the mural for Diana Gonzalez and all victims of domestic violence.  Then, if you ask a few more folks, they might tell you it's just to show support of victims of domestic violence.  Quite the quagmire this mural became over the last few months..

However, I've been dying to share these pics!  And this is just the raw shots right here.  I didn't even weed out the ones that were blurry.  I'm basically also testing the interface between jAlbum and blogspot.

Please, if you have successes or failures while viewing the pics, let me know.  I need a convenient way to share large batches of pictures and FB doesn't always cut it.

Thanks to you all :)

Chris

An Edict From a Lover On the Bench

Hey y'all. I haven't written any poetry in a while. I got thinking about some things tonight and it just came out while cooking some pasta. It's funny where we find inspiration in life.  I can't tell you how these words fell into my mind exactly, but what I can tell you is that I've opened my mind and my heart and my thoughts are flowing freer than ever. Enjoy.


An Edict From a Lover On the Bench

By Chris Handloser

I need a girl who will follow, not lead me
Always believe in me but never try to be me
I know some say "It's my way or the highway"
But that ain't my case. My way IS the highway.
This edict is not a request for indenture
Life is on the arm and we choose our own adventure
I respect those that live on another one's path
Making mole hills out of mountains and turning sand to glass
Though all truth be told, I'm just not that dude.
If you're riding with me, it'll be on my route.

Until days are gone and only nights remain
I am my own passion, my person, my refrain
I look on at love with a calm from the bench
So I'm very well studied and you know where I've been
I'm not at all adverse to a mate at some point
But I'll choose the game while she rolls the joint
Till then, my team motto is "Cautious approach"
Until a sweet, passive voice says, "Put me in coach".

Noise in the Feedback Loop

What's that? The wind....

My thoughts are too abundant for the this one trick brain. I need an expansion of capacity only. Not that I have any misconceptions to the nature of this mystery. The more you become aware, the more you wonder what you should be excluding.

I want to find myself in a desert. I want to be painfully thirsty. Why? It seems like in its desperate agony, it would offer focus. Maybe I'd be good with any legitimately overwhelming struggle. I probably just settled on a desert metaphor, because I live in a city built on a desert.

Focus. What is it? Hold on....nope. I still don't have it. Though I wear this burden with a lighter heart than you may believe, and the lesser of two difficulties is at hand here, I struggle with what is a blessing and what is a curse nowadays. Shouldn't analyzation be the compass to navigate me to the oasis? I find it more of a quicksand then a porthole, though I'm more adept at analyzation than a simple thought. I can focus on none and yet conceive more than all. Now I believe we have a sandstorm folks. Winds blowing interference around what is otherwise a beautiful landscape. (excuse the sentence fragment)

Perfection in example. Contingencies override accepted standards. Your north is my east. My advance is your downfall. Your incapability is my strength. My strength is my downfall.

And so I'm left with a simple dollop of sand. Maybe I'll fashion a glass house and add some ants. The precision and intricacy enthralls me. Though as happens within me often and thus would be expected in any ant farm I preside over, the shakes and sifts would be so frequent, the efforts would be only to maintain movement. Upwards, downwards, backwards, forwards, but never nowheres. Is direction a prerequisite? I feel unqualified to decide. Motion is all I'm willing to invest in.

MIxtures of chemicals and inspirations at indiscernible ratios

Hello friendly friends.  Shit, I'm even feeling good enough tonight to say "Hi" to my not-so-friendly friends.  You see, tonight was a perfect manifestation of expanding my mind instead of watching TV!  Yay!  This is very liberating.  However, I did decide to buzz up tonight.  My wonderful mother bought me a box of wine from Target (that I actually fancy very much, thank you), and tonight I used gravity to insure its yield to my anti-sobriety was effective.  Mission accomplished.

Though, I don't want my cheeky intro to take away from the legitimacy of these lyrics I'm about to share with you.  First and foremost, for most who know me, I've been heavily following news, both national and international, politics, and especially economics.  I've used the term "mind fucked" in regards to attempts at processing these thoughts, though I've found my center and started accurately evaluating my feelings on these topics as of late.  So anyways, even though I don't write political or preachy lyrics all that often, I thought I'd give a stab at it tonight, and it worked out nicely.  It sounds even better with the music.  Now that this particular song is complete, I might start with this one to record to launch my Youtube channel.

Now, I should be leaving the interpretation open to problems with the heart towards the other sex or the somewhat misleading religious tones, but I thought I would just come clean and admit that it's political.  So, I would greatly appreciate comments on it.  Like it or leave it, I'm going to at least ride it through to recording, but criticisms are welcome.  If you do relate to it with matters of the heart or religion, feel free to comment about that too.

The Collection plate (TM)

by Chris Handloser

I’m staring in the eye of Providence in a bill.  It’s all I’ve got.

And if I hold this bill from them, far be it me, to count on support.

And if I let deceit move in, follow me round & choose my friends,

I can kiss my life good bye, fall on my sword, and call it an end.

To your autocratic trite, I throw up an automatic fight.

Cause if I let this take its hold, far be it me, to count on a right.

Belittling Beatitudes, folded in vogue with common words.

If they scare you into trust, with dread in the nouns and fear in the verbs.

Then you can kiss your mind goodbye.  Take out a spike.  Lobotomize.

Think in a cloud.  Sit in the dark.  Pray to survive.  Wait for a spark.

I’ve acted out the worst case draw.  Nothing has changed, all is wrong.

But I can’t let this take ahold. (I’ve) known of the attack and I’m sold on the cause.

When I’ve surrendered, I’ll be dead.  Life is a means, not an ends.

And though I find myself robust, till I succeed, I call it a must

Taking punches in my strides, feeling the sting behind the eyes

If open minds are cursed to hurt, writhing in pain, will be my demise….be my demise

Be my demise…….be my demise

Here comes the pass….of the collection plate.  Factions pay more costs.

And who can last….through our election daze, and our apathy and fraud.

And groundless faith in god

We fill our glass…..of the expected take of the wines we made from blood

Whatever’s left….the remainder stays in the collection plate and lost

And all our worth is lost

Not all songs can be sunny people!  Sorry!  I hope you enjoyed the wording, at least.  :)

Time and Reflections of latency

I find introspection comforting.  Some would agree with me, though some fear the sheer possibility of being forced out of the canoe and into the jungle of expansive thought.  I have spent most of my time in that mental jungle, swinging from thought to thought with whimsy, searching for that which cannot be found with the determination of finding it anyways.....always planning that when I found it, I would lose it again, on purpose, so I could start looking for it once more.  Lately, I've been rethinking that approach.  Would I consider myself to be well-rounded?  I suppose I would.  However, not to be too painfully analogous, but I'm now thinking that one could be most well-rounded if they were to follow a path through the jungle, where they would still get to view the wonders of life, but also have direction.  I now know that having direction is not synonymous with imposing self-restriction.  I got that wrong for so many years....

Frittered and wasted the hours in off-hand ways:

How many REALLY good drunken conversations can you have anyways?  Did I learn something from everyone one of them?  What did I retain from them?  But worse yet, what profound life's lessons were learned, and forgotten as soon as my eyes widened the following morning?  Character building is paramount in being a successful adult, but I also think it can be a veil for satiating one's need to be liked and accepted.  I just can't be left out of anything.  Though yet, in keeping to that philosophy, I left myself out of so much.  Irony, in it's most cruel, yet compelling form.

I had my cable turned off this week.  I have a malevolent relationship with television.  It is, in it's truest form, an addiction.  I speak only on behalf of myself on this one.  I have strong opinions about what television is or is not doing to or for society, but I strongly believe in letting you decide whether or not it is a poison to you, as it is to me.  I've long lingered confoundedly over whether the time suckage was due to the tv or the pot, so I have began my self-evaluative case study in full force.  So far, I've been quite productive while maintaing medicated levels at usual times, but I can only imagine there will be a honeymoon period that will end and challenge me to stay motivated to avoid sitting in mental stasis for long periods of time.  I believe I will overcome this though.  Why?  Because I grew to be so disgusted with the abundance of mental stasis I let myself succumb to over the past year, growing my lazy ass (and gut) wider in front of the idiot box.  But as a good friend said candidly, "I'm curious to see if you get the result you're looking for out of that move".  I'll keep you posted.

Kicking around on a piece of ground in my hometown:

Thing is, if you're waiting for something or someone to show you the way, you might wait forever.  I came to distrust that waiting game, though I do wish I would have stopped the waiting even earlier, and began looking for the way.  I by no means feel lost currently, if anything, it's the opposite.  I'm overwhelmed with possibility!  However, this seemingly upward facing trend is compromised slightly by my first feeling of regret in quite some time.  I don't hold regrets.  I don't like them.  They're heavy, and they rarely, if ever, serve any purpose to dwell on.  But the truth is, in the rearview mirror, I see a young man that had the world on a string if he wanted it, but in the mirror currently, I see someone struggling to sort things out before time expires on what is left of his youth.  And again, this is meant to be introspective, not overdramatic, and I expect not a bit of sympathy from that dictum.  But as I said, to be able to really see now what amazing things I could've have accomplished if I took to them at 21 instead of 31 years old, is both invigorating and saddening at the same time.  This is only a small mental hurdle though, and I will harness the invigoration and accomplish all that I can from here on out.  Still, there is something to be said for recognizing your capabilities at a young age.  If I could pass on anything to anyone in that 18-22 years old range, that would be it.

Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines:

I realized lately, in my decision to become more well-rounded again, that my writing and music is what keeps my soul asking for more!  Nothing could be more distressing to me that I went two years without writing a song.  But I'm back in gear.  I've been writing music and lyrics again and apparent as it could ever be, I'm writing again.  That's liberation and baby I want it.  I need it.  I'm not sure why I went so long without exploring my right brain.  Inspiration comes in waves, but for me, achieving is the cornerstone of artistic production, and I think I went so long without really achieving anything new, that I never really took to art either.  It's funny to me that I didn't find solace in art, when my chips were gone, but I suppose that's just not how I work.  I realize that I was actually my most productive when I had two jobs, two bands, and a full time girlfriend.  Now that's crazy shit.  Is anyone else like this?  I can think of one friend who could just lock himself in a room and shut out the world for hours in function to improve and study his art, but I can't do that.  If I need to live a fast-paced life style to see my secondary desires come to fruition, so be it.  I hope to start some sort of music project asap and I will definitely be recording my new material this summer in MacTech studios, so stay tuned for that!

The time has come.  The song is over.  Thought I'd something more to say.....