Best friends that pee on you - part I

owning and caring for a dog teaches you a lot about life.

to me, dogs arent just objects of responsibility. they deserve and mean so much more. there's something about holding it close to your chest as a fragile puppy, laughing when it runs into the screen door, yelling when it pees in the corner of the living room, cuddling up with it on a cold night under the sheets, and grieving slowly when it passes on; they frame life in a way that no book or story could without ever saying a single word. just meaningful little barks and grunts here and there.

you could do much worse than to be called a dog. i'll take that compliment anyday.

thank you googly-eyed dog. i love waking up to your bad breath every morning. without the slightest clue, you teach me so richly of life. you oblivious brat.

silhouettes - part I

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as a kid, i used to subscribe to a children's magazine called "Highlights." (i loved getting any kind of mail with MY name on. didnt matter if it was a letter from a friend or an freakin invitation to open a mortgage). dont act like you're too cool to know what im talking about. all you 90's kids will know what im talking about: those magazines with all sorts of cool articles on animal rescues, outerspace, and shel silverstine poems. in the back of every issue, there was a "guess the object" section where they show you a zoomed in picture of something like lizard scales or zebra skin, and you'd have to guess what it was. i never peeked at the answers.

i think it was then that knew that i loved silhouettes, hiddenness, and even their shadows. even today, half the pictures that i save when im wasting time on deviantart.com are of outlines or the backs of heads or something else obscure.  

they make you anticipate, guess, imagine, and sometimes hope. even as formless nothings, there's a forbidden clarity: sometimes you have to trust that the things you cannot see or understand are truly there.

a good friend of mine asked me if i would rather choose a famous michelangelo over an uncut slab of marble. like most sane people, i said that i'd rather choose the michelangelo sculpture, but he met me with this response:

"i'd choose the uncut chunk of marble. it holds so much potential and room for creativity. it could be an utter failure, but it could also be the greatest masterpiece of its kind"

i love silhouettes. they are the taste of what has yet to come. 

God is kind of like a silhouette. a daringly, exciting silhouette.

homecoming and shaved heads

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How to fix a haircut gone wrong:

1) chop it off.

2) reassure yourself by saying aloud, "that is bold, you bold person, you."

-- "that is bold... you bald person. you."

its never felt so good to be home! the smell of kimchee and sesame oil never gets old. mmm, delish. i think i'll take my time stretching out on the sofa and spend aimless hours watching dry day-time dramas that nobody likes (thats some high-quality laziness right there).  just the type of break i needed...

here's to a some great winter adventures :)

art. humanness. souls. creativity. robots. algorithms. the impossible. God.

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i was commenting on a friend's blog and i decided to carry it over to a post.


can robots be creative? this post isnt about robots, but answering this questions might have some pretty solid implications on God, life, and the human soul. im writing a paper on how the soul is what makes humans human. the soul validates itself through algorithm*-less choices, creativity, and the possibility of failure - all of which are shown through expressive art (keyword expressive) because the art is a product of choices, evolving ideas, and subjectivity (not everyone will like it or deem it a "success"). expressive art in itself does not mean anything unless it points to the person/artist/creator. therefore, a printer cannot be an artist because though it creates, it cannot creatively create; it is merely a conduit of the creativity obeying a programmed, linear, and un-evolving algorithm to print an image. so can we ever create something that creatively creates? can we create non-linear algorithms that disobey themselves and evolve into other algorithms? is AI even possible or is it like trying to create life?


God is God because he can do the impossible by creating evolving algorithms. He is also an artist because He can creatively create. if the essence of life is to have breath and creativity, then He is the author of Life. He creates, therefore He is. -deep silence-

*(an algorithm is a step-by-step procedure that guarantees an output. for example, a math equation like 4x=8 is programmed to yield x=2 every time because it follows a uniform set of procedures. a calculator is programmed with algorithms to do arithmetic and also complicated equations to follow a procedure that will consistently yield a output. boom.)

remembering the year...

Transitory Season

Autumn, autumn, fading fast
Autumn, autumn, make it last
Sprinkling leaves on glassy lakes
Stillborn hush glaze hazel scapes

Autumn, autumn, crispy air
Autumn, autumn, in my hair
Comb the breeze in zephyr blues
Breathe out breath in silky plumes

its coming too soon...
far too soon.theend.

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"the brevity teaches us to enjoy it."
thank you, creator, for a great fall season.

so worth it

"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field.


When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field."

I love the outdoors

The great thing about nature is that it makes you feel so small.


i grew up loving the outdoors. i remember hiking through mountains, the heaviness of waterfall mist in the air, looking up at the giant sequoias, crawling across huge boulders, struggling up fresh trails, and when i surveyed it all, i felt a little helpless. I felt like an outsider in God's playground.


you can almost hear the faintness of stolen breaths from others who had seen the same sights hundreds and even thousands of years before. it takes you back to a place before nature-being became sight-seeing. in your gut, you can feel it.

and when i look back at myself, my achievements, my pride, and my problems, they seem so irrelevant and small. the trees that have seen so much over hundreds or even thousands of years, continue to live on past the lives of men who have staked their legacies on fashioning glory and achieving impressive works. but even the greatest men in history in perish. and as if the cedars should pay tribute and the stars weep- no - life goes on and the earth continues to spin. quiet as ever.

Nature remains a beautiful overseer through time.


what building exists that is more beautiful than the gentle ebbs of the tide? what piece of art is more beautiful than the snow falling on forest tops? there is no man-made thing that can compare to the surpassing beauty of a simple wave of natures hand.


i wish we were more spiritual. in a simpler times, men all over the earth recognized that somewhere out there in the mystery of the universe, there was a God, and i believe it was because they felt overwhelmed at the sight of nature. it inspired them, challenged them, and awakened their souls in a way that art or any man-made thing could not. it was God's letter to us: "I am here, near you. I am your God." but now, the concrete jungles have replaced the wilderness until all that remains are monoliths that pay tribute to man and his glory. we've drowned out the call of God with the clamor of men.

come near to God, and He will come near to you.
James 4:8

I'm a PC.

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feat. billionaires, Deepak, Pharrell, Tony Parker, and selvedge denim masterminds.

dance like no one's watching...?

Get down with yo bad self little man.

big willie style

hahaha the memories...

good riddance pain and suffering

.a
a glimpse back at friday/saturday madness...




night falls



the calm before the storm


finally...sweet sunday. summer, it's good to have you back

haha

I just had the most freaking stupid dream ever haha

I dreamed that I got a new roommate and he looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who he was.

I was like "who are you? can't you just tell me your name?"
but he just looked at me, smiled, and said "guess."

and then I completely freaked out because I realized that he was Kobe Bryant. lol.

So after wards, I ran around telling all my friends stuff like "DUDE! GUESS WHO MY ROOMMATE IS!! KOBE BRYANT!!!!!" and "THIS IS SOOOO COOL! I CANT BELIEVE I'M ROOMING WITH KOBE BRYANT!!!"

crazy dream, but it felt so real! some day. maybe...

a great evening on an empty beach

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The beach is a place rightfully cliched and loved. Every time I see it, there's nothing that needs to be said to announce the first glimpse of the endless horizon. You don't have to describe the enveloping panorama of the coastline wrapping around the fragile skyline. It's all there waiting for you to enjoy it.







It's the feeling of helplessness you get when you stand before a beauty that silences every thought and pierces the proudest spirit: nature in all of its unbridled wilderness... In every contour and every wrinkle, the beauty of God's fine workmanship speaks proud and beautiful volumes over concrete jungles. Suddenly, the line between reality and Eden begins to blur, and the weeping water washing over my feet welcomes me home. I feel like I'm home. I wish I were. Home is kind of like the ocean.










A lot of my shots are blurry, kind of like these sweet moments. Too often I'll try to capture a thousand moments hoping to re-live one half-hearted memory. But maybe that's the beauty of the present - sweet because its only here for a grain of time; it couldn't be captured if we wanted to. Life is too fast to be enjoyed through a lens. If I could relinquish my spectatorship and put my camera down for a second, I might take the palette and hues in with my eyes, the salty sea foam with my nose, and the gentle beating with my ears. I would swear on moments like this.







I think I will take my time today to enjoy this idleness.