Rat's Alley

Ready for the CHAOS homebrew event tonight.

Sat, 04 May 2013 15:52:21 -0500

Ready for the CHAOS homebrew event tonight.

This is what I woke up to this morning. Perfect.

Sat, 08 Dec 2012 07:15:53 -0600

This is what I woke up to this morning. Perfect.

Audrey slaved over a hot oven partially for my visit! ;) (Taken...

Tue, 28 Aug 2012 19:18:53 -0500

Audrey slaved over a hot oven partially for my visit! ;) (Taken with Instagram)

Breakfast. +madmen (Taken with Instagram)

Sun, 15 Jul 2012 11:38:49 -0500

Breakfast. +madmen (Taken with Instagram)

Going to see mewithoutYou right now. Cannot wait.

Sat, 14 Jul 2012 19:30:44 -0500

Going to see mewithoutYou right now. Cannot wait.

Hindsight is 20/20

Mon, 09 Jul 2012 00:43:36 -0500

After a long pondering and contemplation of what has been going on in my life I have found myself at a place of peace and tranquility. I feel like I am on the brink of inspiration and I need to get my creative facets working again. I’m brimming with so much creativity and I just haven’t found the correct way to get this out, naturally I resort to writing.

I wrote this today in my journal,

“It was a balmy afternoon. I stared out to a lonely lake while having a conversation with a very close friend. This friend means a lot to me, I wouldn’t trade him for anything, he’s been consistently a good friend and a help to me over the past few years. My past two days have been riddled with thoughts of an ethereal nature, he’s been there to listen and give advice accordingly. I’m not sure what to do. My heart wants to give itself away, but the fear is an inhibiting factor. I’m not sure how to handle this. I need to figure out whats going on. [This] is all I think about. [It’s] all I want, but ultimately I want what is best for her, but I need to do what is best for me also.”

I talked to my room mates today and they gave me their advice. I’ve realized that life is one big risk in itself, nothing is ever learned from holding yourself back. How can one give themselves away if you are never taking risks and you are allowing fear to control your life. Fear is such a crippling factor in every facet of life and I still haven’t figured out why. In my quest of understanding the human mind and understanding people as arbitrary units, I have found fear to be a governing piece of every single person’s life. No one can say that they aren’t afraid of something, and that that fear hasn’t held them back from pursuing something, or from being themselves truly.

I’m doing my damndest to rid fear from my life and to move forward allowing myself to be vulnerable and weak. There is strength in that ironically. Another chapter in my life closed and I’m on to writing the new masterpiece. A few pages in, it’s already looking good and I can honestly say that I am scared. But I can also honestly say that it’s worth it.

Cycling at It's Finest

Tue, 26 Jun 2012 00:23:54 -0500

I remember being a little kid. I came into Chicago and I was in awe at the amazement of the city and how big it was. I always knew that I wanted to live in a place that was so busy and that seemed so fun and cool!

Little did I know in a few years time that I would be entertaining a life of vagrancy and adventure in this city. Let alone, with some of the best lifelong friends that I have ever had.

Aside from living in this city and broadening my horizons, I remember one thing specifically. When I was little, coming into the city, I remember seeing everyone on their bikes. I automatically assumed that they were delivery people, putting very secret and important things on their backs and sending them on their way through the city. My mind immediately dismissed any mail service that may potentially exist, and considered them being like the ponies of old. Riding their steeds across a concrete desert sending people important and necessary mailed goods and packages. I remember looking up to these guys. Seeing them and saying to mother, “Those guys are so cool!”.

She would dismiss it as a childish ambition, taking to the likes of whatever was around me and fast paced and fun looking. Perhaps I was molding my future seeing those guys ride around the city, because I never would have imagined becoming a serious biker/delivery boy myself. I didn’t have this realization or correlation until the other day as I was zipping up Michigan Ave on my bike. I had become something that was a childhood dream of mine, in a city that also seemed like a farfetched fantasy life.

Biking has become such an integral part of my life that I can’t see myself not being on a bike. It’s so invigorating and freeing, zooming through the various neighborhoods on my cruiser.

They tell you that you can be whatever you want to be when you grow up, well it’s true, even if that idea is a subconscious thought or process. Even if this lifestyle is for a season, it’s still great. I have learned a lot about myself in the past few months or so, that I wouldn’t have traded them for the biggest opportunities in the world. Drink in the streets, next time you are out there just take a big gulp of air and say to yourself, “It’s good to be alive.”

A Balmy Saturday Afternoon

Thu, 14 Jun 2012 22:04:13 -0500

I witnessed one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life the other day. Saturday to be exact. I was riding my bike through one of Chicago’s beautiful parks. Enjoying the surroundings and taking in the scenery that is all too hard to come across in a place like this. I found myself enthralled.

I wasn’t alone on this bike ride, nor was I alone in my thoughts either. Engrossed by the beauty. Not the beauty that lay before me, but the beauty that followed behind. There she was, following me as I paved a way through a small oasis in a concrete jungle. Keeping in pace just close enough to feel my presence and still distant enough to read my every move.

Humboldt was our destination, and to Humboldt we went. I found myself nervous and excited about the excursion as a whole. Upon arrival I was cast into a neighborhood culture that not even the likes of Puerto Rico itself could even match. A man stood on the corner with a bike that looked like it had been ridden to the end of it’s life. On the other corner stood a man with a bike that looked like it hadn’t been ridden a day in it’s life. I remember it vividly. It was red, and chrome with streaks of blue. The man wore a white t-shirt tucked into his blue jeans with cowboy boots and a belt with a metal buckle. He didn’t wear a hat, but his mustache spoke louder than any head garment could even shout. I turned to her, I laughed and we rode on. I took her to a spot that I had frequented many times before, until this day I had actually not even explored the rest of the park.

We stopped. She drank in the park. I drank in her presence. We were on a small fishing pier, surrounded by a few teens looking to score the next big catch of the day. We had no lines, we had no poles, we had no bait. We stood. Straddling out mechanical steeds, enjoying the oasis that stretched before us. I remember being simply captivated. The park was beautiful, but it wasn’t even comparable to her.

We rode on. We rode past play grounds, children, trees and bushes. We stopped again, at a place that resonated with her. The boathouse was anything but a disappointment. I do, however, believe that a boat hasn’t left those watery gates for some time now, but the building remains, just as the day it was built. We stood on the shores and pondered the distance of the lake that laid in front of us. “I think that’s about 10 strokes”, she said. I smiled.

We rode along the park a few more times before we headed back toward my stead. Between the baseball teams (they were called “la roca”, the families grilling out and the loud overpowering music my head was full of thoughts. Thoughts so loud that I could hardly hear my own panting from riding. Thoughts that are still swimming as I write.

I remember that day vividly, and I will for a while. Although I never got my horchata, it was still a successful day. I remember it even until the point that it ended. It was a 6:30 train, bound for the northwest reaches of the city. We walked for a good while. Then we rode a bus. By the nick of time we had made it to the train due to fast walking and some jogging. The scenario was delicate. So delicate that I couldn’t even imagine it ending any other way. I stood in the doors of the train, ensuring her boarding, yet guaranteeing one last sign of affection before the doors closed and the metal snake headed off into the distance. We said our goodbyes. I smiled again. Then she was gone. I mounted my bike and rode through the park alone.

A day hasn’t gone by that hasn’t been consumed with thoughts of what could be or what will be. But I can assure you this. This was one of the most significant days I have ever had in my life.

Sincerely,

buriedbeneaththeocean: The Chariot @ The Bottom Lounge...

Fri, 01 Jun 2012 16:16:58 -0500

buriedbeneaththeocean:

The Chariot @ The Bottom Lounge (Chicago), 11/19/11 by krystal.thibault on Flickr.

The Chariot
Bottom Lounge Chicago
11/19/11

I was definitely at this show. Went out with them after the show to Portillo’s, it was amazing.

Dinner with my best good friends. (Taken with instagram)

Mon, 28 May 2012 19:08:41 -0500

Dinner with my best good friends. (Taken with instagram)

Photo

Wed, 23 May 2012 00:30:45 -0500

A canned imperial? Yes please. (Taken with instagram)

Sun, 13 May 2012 22:03:03 -0500

A canned imperial? Yes please. (Taken with instagram)

You’re a wizard Harry! Also I graduated from Slytherin....

Sat, 12 May 2012 13:14:10 -0500

You’re a wizard Harry! Also I graduated from Slytherin. For real though. (Taken with instagram)

The Ballad of James Gladstone, Part 2.

Mon, 07 May 2012 01:39:39 -0500

James sits down at his table and begins to write. His journal is a dark brown leather that is worn well with age. He brings out his favorite pen and presses it towards the paper. He has no structure in his mind, but the ideas flow naturally. Words start to pour out from his heart like a rush of water after a dam has been broken. First from his heart. Second from his mind. Third from his soul. And last but not least, the words pour from his body.

He aches. He sits uncomfortably in his chair knowing that all the while he is solidifying thoughts that nobody would ever care to admit. He realizes the futility in writing down ideas that have swam around his head for weeks. He is seemingly putting things into an eternal mindset, but the paper will pass just like James. He knows this. He continues to write.

As his mind is seemingly numb from scraping back and forth across the paper, he decides it’s time for bed. He meanders upstairs. He climbs into his bed and he pulls his comforter up to his chin. Still alone, in his all to adequate house. The alarm strikes eight AM the next morning and his alarm goes off. He’s got about an hour until he has to get to work. The first day at his new job.

He rolls out of bed, and goes into his normal morning routine. Breakfast, coffee, shower and a shave. Same…old…thing. His mind is ready for a change, hopefully his new job will bring him what he desires. After he brushes his teeth and puts on his favorite tie, he climbs in the driver’s seat of his Subaru and heads to work.

He arrives, walks in, introduces himself and gets shown to his new office. James sits down and relaxes, he looks at his watch, it reads 12:30. As with any charade the time just flew by. He can’t remember anything. Everything was so rushed that he couldn’t even recall where the bathrooms were. He steps outside of his office and proceeds to go to the desk just outside. There is a girl, she has brown hair. The most beautiful blue eyes he has ever seen. She has a fair complexion. Her lips are red with lipstick. James looks at her, then immediately retreats back to his office. The urge to leave again was all to pressing, but he just sat. Alone at his desk. At this point he was just wasting time. But he couldn’t go back out there until he knew what to say. James needed a release, something to comfort him. He pulled out his journal that he wrote in the night before. He read his own words and remembered the way the pen had felt in his hand. He was calmed. All the while, he was thinking of her. Her face ran through his mind like the perfect muse. He was overwhelmed once again.

James stepped over to the window and remembered what he felt the last time he had looked out one. It had been in his own office, just before he had left. He hadn’t spoken to anyone all day. He just remembered looking out his window and seeing only the reflection of his empty office behind him. A stroke of courage his him, or maybe it was stupidity. James rushed out of the office and walked straight to the desk. He looked this girl in the eye, stuck out his hand for a handshake and muttered, “Hi, I’m James. Nice to meet you.” She smiled, recognizing his admonition.

“Emma, you as well”, she said.

“I can’t seem to remember where the bathroom is, could you point me in the right direction?”, James said punctually.

“Yeah, of course, right over there!” Emma said, pointing her french-tipped finger down a hallway immediately behind James.

James turned on his heel and walked in the direction she pointed. Finally he found it. He walked in, embraced the sink as if he were going to be sick and took a deep long breath. As he stared at himself in the mirror he saw his reflection. He splashed water on his face and continued to stare. He stared so long that he could hardly recognize himself. Funny how that works. He left the restroom, gave a passing glance and a smile to Emma, but continued to his office. Once he got back to his desk, he opened his journal and began to write.

Haha oh Elliot! (Taken with instagram)

Fri, 04 May 2012 23:24:44 -0500

Haha oh Elliot! (Taken with instagram)

This is my favorite cat! I love Baileys kitten, I named him...

Fri, 04 May 2012 22:28:36 -0500

This is my favorite cat! I love Baileys kitten, I named him Elliot! (Taken with instagram)

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be..."

Wed, 18 Apr 2012 01:34:30 -0500

““When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.””

- Ansel Adams

landscapepalettes: Staring into the Sun (by IrenaS)

Sat, 14 Apr 2012 15:50:03 -0500

landscapepalettes:

Staring into the Sun (by IrenaS)

My apologies for those who are awaiting my next blog post. Also for those who have forgotten about...

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 16:52:11 -0500

My apologies for those who are awaiting my next blog post. Also for those who have forgotten about me, this is a reminder I suppose. My life has been unexpectedly busy and I am trying to delegate time between my writing, my photography and my career. I’m considering a blending of the last two, however we will see.

On a photography note, I am working on a new series that I will be starting tonight. It’s going to be a horror series and I have a few idea that I am hoping turn out really creepy and eerie. My equipment is subpar at the moment so I’m hoping that they turn out as expected. In an effort to build my portfolio, I am going to put a lot of effort on taking some pictures. I need to have content for my website launch and definitely need to get some clients for weddings booked. Step by step. First, more pictures. Second, better/more equipment. Third, clientele.

Also I am working on a short story that I will have up shortly. So if you are interested look forward to that.
Also Katie, my apologies, I’m writing that letter I promise! I’ve just been so damn busy!
This week, I’ll take some pictures. But in the meantime I have to rehearse for my show that I’m playing next Saturday. If you get a chance check out the sound, it’s rather interesting.
http://www.facebook.com/spasmodiccroup

it0ldyous0: If I’d ask you, who is Joseph Kony, you wouldn’t...

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 10:32:21 -0600

it0ldyous0:

If I’d ask you, who is Joseph Kony, you wouldn’t know. You should. And that’s why I’m going to tell you about him.

Joseph Kony considers himself as a good Christian.
He abducts kids, makes little girls go in prostitution, makes little boys become kid soldiers and force them to do horrible things, things a kid isn’t supposed to do. Neither is an adult, no one is. He started the LRA, Lord’s Resistance Army. 20.000 kids have been kidnapped, this needs to stop. And that’s why we need to MakeKony Famous. Let the world know about the horrible things he does, and the thousands of children and parents suffering.

So come together, at the April the 20th. That is the day, we will cover the night. People in all kind of cities, all over the world meet at sundown & cover the city with posters and stickers of Joseph Kony. To Make Kony Famous. If you want to help these kids and parents, cover the night at 4/20/2012.

Not clear enough? Please watch: http://vimeo.com/37119711