Thursday, May 1, 2008

BACON


> No comment ….’’

Maybe I am not just trying just hard enough …. Or perhaps maybe I am just stupid ….

There are so many things in front of me so vague
….. which makes me either stride or step back …. Thoughts which make you not know whether to speak or to keep silent…..

To do anything or just nothing at all …

And all of which is because you fear to commit anything which may aggravate things
…… to say anything which may be misunderstood …. Or misconstrued


And so I ….


Stayed in the sideways for a while …..

…..just looking on my windows .... trying hard to absorb and understand ... learn
but not ventilating any signs of what runs inside

Feeling tired …. Caught up in a space and state of motionless action …

Sometimes it just feels god to keep in silent ….


To watch the world …. . move …. Cloudy blue …. Red orange … then at dusk turns to grey then black …

…. absorbing all the rage … I deem to deserve ….

As if standing with open arms in the middle of a winter night… naked

…closed eyes

Waiting for the cold to get me

....waiting for all of the pricking needle that sinks in the skin that it gives a chilly sensation ... an excruciating pain…..

True

it is painful … humbling experience …. But every sting of cold ….every blow in the head gives a certain kind of wisdom ….

Wisdom that have been clouded by selfishness and pride ….. (I did not see)

And in the end little by little though it may not be clear ..... a whole picture seen

And realize
And you only have yourself to be blamed …..



But really it is difficult … especially when there are things in front of you that no matter how hard you decipher … of understand … you cannot …. excuse my ignorance
Is the issue still about you …. Or is it something else…..
What could the world want …what does a person want?

Self absorbed ….. to just know what you want and not others …..
TO MY FRIENDS I APOLOGIZE FOR MY LONG ABSENCE I PROMISE TO UPDATE AND CATCH UP ON YOU SOON....

Monday, March 3, 2008

A PIECE OF IT ...

(Sean Connery on the Voice)
> There comes a point of time that we stop a while to seek some piece of mind ….

Did it ever occur to you …. That you remain blank and could do anything amidst piles of papers waiting on your desk …. Numbers of voice messages on your answering machine waiting to be called back …deadlines nearing but then nothing has been started?

When all there is in the mind …are wandering thoughts …unuttered … not immortalized. Even how hard you try to squeeze it nothing comes out but then again there are these thoughts … screaming to get out.

And you seek for some peace … just a day … or even hours or minutes?

When the mind is aware that there are tons of tasks to be accomplished it tends to slack down influencing the whole of the body. It flies through spaces and time to a one serene place to seek it’s asylum.

As for myself … my mind soars … lightly these pass few days …. it’s mission rebels to what reality seeks … to move … work … run. But it goes the other way around.

Lately… at night …when Hypnos is at work it … my unconscious mind captures pictures of people … places … events …some known …some unknown. The latter …created by my mind to picture the peace it searches.

This field is the meadow where I spend to have my sweet serenity … of my past. The horse is Black Rain … who died just last year …. The exact scene where I always see him and before he gives me great rides.

Black Rain is not a person … he is a horse. And time and a gain I have told t myself not to attach myself to animals …ever since Peanut, my toy poodle died when I was in High School. But I guess one cannot avoid the inevitable … I am but human with a heart and soul.

The point of my write is …. when a lot of things bother us, we tend to search what has been missing. People … entity … things … events that has made us feel so good.

And although sometimes we might not be aware and we think all has been forgotten … but then again it was only in the conscious state…subconsciously nothing is erased …. And it remains there until we admit that it is deep within the heart and soul.

Whoever came … whatever had been felt … however it has been done … how much has been given … in one’s life it is always there.

The loss of my dog Peanut … my horse Black Rain no matter how painful would always be there … they are not people … what more to people … these phenomena I guess will always come back again and again to remind me I am human … I have loved … I have been affected … and there are effects.


Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.


Monday, February 25, 2008

Rolfe's Gallery
















>
In my previous post …. I have mentioned about my Swiss Friend … Dianne … the widow who is living in an apartment at Bethune St. …..

Well in this post I have decided to write something about it …..



They call it WESTBETH …. short for West of Bethune. It is located at the corner of Washington St. and Bethune St. and on the other side of it lays the Hudson River where the chilly breeze welcoming anyone approaching comes from.

I usually frequent myself there if I have spare time to visit my friend Dianne …. And as I have mentioned in my earlier post entitled BETHUNE ST. she remains the sweet old lady that she is.

WESTBETH is mostly inhabited by painter, actors, musician and other artist. The waiting list to get a door would take years …..

In the lobby just beside the mail boxes you could see walls turned into bulletin boards …for announcements and ads or self expressions posted by residents. It is really a place conducive to enrich someone who is passionate about art ….


In there is where Rolfe’s (her deceased husband) den is located ….

Could an artist’s passion for the arts transcend death?

Although I only met Dianne when Rolfe had already passed away.... ....aside from Dianne’s stories ….
....just by seeing their apartment and the things that had been left untouched (Rolfe’s things), just the way they were when the man was still alive … gives away the person of this man to me.

The walls are bare white and the ceilings are high … I could tell that much enough space and air were preferred by the people living there … and to my mind it had to be Rolfe’s preference.



.The apartment is bare … as ever and according to Dianne it was bare as it was when Rolfe was still alive. All one could see are the big working table ...brushes ....the oil paints … piles of bare canvas those that were still waiting to be touched by Rolfe’s magic brushes…

.Rolfe’s works are neatly wrapped in Manila paper and piled on customized shelves where Dianne had kept them. I tried to ask her to let me see them but there was sadness in her face and would say …THEY ARE ALL PACKED AND I WOULD RATHER NOT OPEN THEM … READY FOR THE SWISS BENEVOLENT SOCIETY TO PICKED THEM UP JUST IN CASE ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME.

I understand her and respect her choice … and I am sure there is more to it than her reason for not unpacking and seeing it once again.... what her husband once had made. She probably does not want to look back and remember…. I guess when it comes to her heart she will never forget the details….

It may sound weird …I did loved drawing when I was a kid and a teen ager … but then I ended up with a very different line of profession. But ever since I entered Rolfe’s den I felt more passionate about art …. Something I have never felt it before… I myself would be surprised and every time I go there … there is some urge to pick up my chalks or charcoals and my drawing pad and would come up with something neat. I would tell Dianne that it as if Rolfe’s spirit would want to see me draw and would teach me something.

Some techniques that I never figure out before … or inadvertent stokes that would come up with a good form … thus becoming an art. I have never felt such enthusiasm to draw until I have gone there.

The place kept in calm silence …solemn by the memories shared by my old friend with her husband …. Gives me a certain kind of atmosphere .....although melancholic gives out an air of optimism …. Optimism that has been emitted from Dianne’s aura.

I could see her as a woman of simplicity … wisdom and courage. If one could see her an Old widow …childless … living by herself and yet full of life and hope … one could infer that this old lady lives life as it is and had bowed down to the fate of acceptance .. about life ….

She would often tell me how she and Rolfe met … that she was already engaged to some other man … but she met Rolfe in the Art School where she attended in Berns. They arranged to meet up one day but she was about to cancel it and tell him to forget everything about them in a phone call but fortunately Rolfe had already left.. on his way to the venue of their meeting place … Dianne was not left a choice but to meet him …and the rest was history. Just one missed phone call …a fortunate miss … I see her eyes light up whenever she tells me that story…..

Often I would hear her utter “Well that is life … and there is nothing we can do about it … everyone would go …”

Dianne would always feed me with her words of wisdom and courage as she tells me stories (though she repeats her stories a lot of times something to do with her loss of memory) about her youth that as a child she was a dreamer, often her mind would wander… … she would tell me a lot with pride about Switzerland particularly Berns …

A Toyland is to a child … its paradise as much as WESBETH is to me … my passion …. Not only do I get the solitude that I experience inside Rolfe’s den. I also get to talk with a lot of artist living there and would unselfishly teach me a thing or two about drawing …and stuff… who became my friends meeting up at Chelsea every once in a while.

Rolfe’s gallery is not only a repository of his paintings ..of his art works but is a repository of memories he and Dianne shared over the years of their lives. An art school for me as well as a spiritual oasis.
Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

TURCO


>
Two little ears heard:

That Turco..Turcs for short was the name he was called …..that was the name he was known by his siblings ( oh no his mother would not call him that name) … relatives … friends and that some whom he might not know would know that he was Turco.

Maybe because of his prominent Mestizo feature and with his toughie moustache trademark and often with rosie cheeks …a Turkish looking guy which he had inherited from his Spanish-Argentine parentage.


6 decades and 36 months ago Turco was born. He was born in a decade when the World War II begun and ended …between the transition of the radical 30’s to the conservative 50’s … the decade of the Hiroshima bombing … the fateful Holocaust and when amity of nations resulted to the establishment of the United nations.

At that time when his mother had probably been taking the labor pains to bring young Turks to this world … Joe D’Magio was probably making a hit on the baseball field or …. when he had his first steps Fred Astaire must’ve been shooting somewhere in the West … Humphrey Boggart would have been saying his “Honestly-My-Dear-I –Don’t-Give –A-Damn” line to some chick.

He is the 4th child in a sibling of 8. A middle child but he was the favorite of all. He was born from a family where his dad was not doing well on his job and his mom was just a plain housewife.

So he started early in life. He started to earn a living when he was 16 … started to put up small business some of which failed ..some were a success. Eventually he had mastered the trade of a well learned business man… a self made man. Perhaps they say that he has the vision of a businessman and the wits of a lawyer and the heart of a child .

Two little eyes saw …

That he is a loving husband and a loving father of 3 girls. The colorful kites he would teach his kids to fly on windy days of November …on how patiently he thought them how to drive a car at an early age on a summer on country roads ….His good taste for clothes and fashion.

The spirit of this man is unbreakable that amidst darkest days he would always seem to find a rainbow along his way. There will always be a sunshine that soars upon his conviction in life.

A little sooul felt …

The tenderness on the hands of this man ….how compassionate he is... not only to his family or friends but to strangers … the needy who would need help. A selfless act he would often perform.


The ever forgiving heart that this man possess … every time someone would bring him a hurting heart. The passion he has for his life … for the life and health of his loved ones …. The youthful spirit that is infectious to everyone he encounters….


Now those 2 little ears …those 2 little eyes…the little soul are no longer little but too little to be that of the person that Turcs is and will always be … all she can do is to write this post for him.

TO MY DAD
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
For teaching me how to fly kites
For teaching how to drive at age 9
THANK YOU

Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Friday Illo Theory: Bouyancy

THEORY:

the force of gravity and the bouyant force are almost the same ... ergo, human body just floats ... what causes drowning is the panic which mostly results to a force which aggravates the law of gravity


____________________________________________________________________



I learned how to swim early in life ... I have a couple of drowning experinces.



At 6 ... I did not know how to swim ... was in a pool with a life saver but it slipped over ... I almost drowend were if not for my friend ... who knew how to wim. She saved my life.



I then learned by myself to synchronice my hands with my feet with and against the waters ....





Next...



It was new Year's Day ... I was 11 .... my friend and i went to the shore to pick up some sea shells but for some reason or another we went swimming....



I knew how to swim already at this time ... but my friend did not. Next thing i knew the current of water was pullingas away from the shallow sea. My friend did not know what to do ... in other words she panicked. She tried to exercise the first law of man ... that of self preservation. the next thing I knew she had grabbed me and tried pulling me beneath the waters to go into the surface over to grasped some air.... good thing an adult nearby walking the shore came to the rescue. We were saved.



In other words ...



The human body as the theory points out floats if you do not panic ... otherwise you create unnecessary force to aggravate the gravity that will pull you down. When all you have to do is go with the flow of the waters sync it with your hands and limbs ... be relaxed.



The human body they say is the smallest body of water ....hence it should not collide with the waters of the sea. After all the only thing which seperates them is the skin ..... that which sense the panic.



When panic attacks everything shuts off. The mind can only think of fear .... and forgets to think.... the nose enroaches the mouth and forgets that it should be the mouth that should be breathing ... and next .... the hands and feet loses their coordination to perform the right moves ... the body goes stiff ... and go against instead of going with the flow....



One loses balances and agility to swim back instead sulk ... succumb beneath instead of flowing with and going on the surface ... inorder to breath.



In life ... life is like that ... we were built to face this world. And the waves of life ... we should go with it and not against it.... a movement that sways and not go against a you feel yourself soar amidst the waves.



The resilience were scattered when it was so ... everything had a piece but most of us forget ... or maybe do remember but ought not to.



For if we were not built to be bouyant in this world ... then a lot of death certificate would have made the primary cause of death as that of otherwise ... and you know what i mean.



Cheer up and good eve.....





>

Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

ABSTRACT


>
In this post I will not use any words which is obviously mushy or associated with anything mushy…use your imagination… your comprehension and your wits.

Yesterday

….they say … there was something to celebrate for….but I hardly say a word about it…. Well just some words describing it to greet some friends and loved ones… but not actually such word.

Two united arcs linked with a pointed V on the bottom or a triangle lacking with a base that was the shape I see all around….I wonder who invented this shape

… maybe it is because it is more likened to the shape of a vital organ in the core one’s cardiovascular system…which is always associated to a feeling that some gets to feel giddy… some say it’s like being a fool… or a wisdom they say that comes not from the head but within… pick your choice….

Every where I walked there were red … someone dressed as such…shops decorated as such with the aforementioned shape….almost all in the corner I see someone with something in bundle wrapped in a bouquet….and or a bottle which entraps a scarlet liquid in it or a clear white depends on the buds of their tongue… one that is an elixir as they say for the moment….

In the shops… I see this darked brown sweets in different molds packed in red…stuffed animals… mostly of bears stacked on shelves ready to be purchased …eventually given to someone thus will be owned by someone…..hersheys and hallmark stock owners being happy to make a handsome profit…even just for a day…..

And in the night…. Restaurants were crowded with diners…. Some had reservations weeks or even months or a year ahead to some posh ones… lacking of which…good luck… the snobbish guy in the reception won’t give you a chance …better go get some pizza or burger then go to some quite place…..

Well it was all in a day…. There might have been vivid shapes… illustrations… symbols … to pin point the significance of emotions…the hype of the moment… but when we try to size up what is really felt … or what has been felt …. It’s all mixed up…maybe the summation of all the joy…of the pain… of all the excitement… of all the contentment or still maybe the longing….

And when all of these are sauted in a pan it sizzles… like a gourmet dish….a fusion cuisine served to you…and when you taste it….there is a good flavor but you cannot explain whether the sweetness…the sourness… the crisp….the pinch of salt …or the cooking wine which makes up the flavor that defines the meat of the dish…. It is good …. Very good but it is vague.

Even when there is no precise words to describe it… even if there are no gestures done or symbols to visualize whatever it is… it can be found in the abstract….and it is a universal language….one that transcends all….

I hope you all had a good one the other day….

Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

'WAS A FRIEND



> i USED TO HAVE A FRIEND...
a good one

with whom....


....I shared an eye to look at the sky and the sunsets


...I enjoyed my childhood memories and dreams


....I stopped the hands of the clock


....I breathe the same misty air of night and at the that of the early morn's fresh air


... I see that the moon and the sun has no difference


... I understand the language of ambiguity
i USED TO BE ONE


but then


I DIED...
_______________________________________________________________
Friendship is like the blending of the medium I have used in this piece. You may get the perfect hue but it is on the blending of this chalk that matters to come up with the harmony of the images one would want to project.

What if a mistake in stroking the chalk is made do we put the started sketch on the waste basket and try to start anew one or do we try to do something about it … do we get the eraser or use the fingers to smear the blackened shade to lighten it up… about the shade and the stroke so as to rehabilitate the defect in the ensuing art that we are making?

Likewise in friendship if the balance and harmony of the existence of both and it becomes a suffocating world to breath for two friends… Do we try to forget such bond and find new ones to start with?


Does friendship end? If so when? Is the bond curtailed by the fact of death?
Is the severance necessarily be mutual to put it to an end?

Can one be tired of being a friend? Or do we stick to the saying : once a true friend will always be a friend? Do we stop being a friend because our friend stopped being so towards us?

They say the vision of an artist when drawn or painted in a canvas or a piece … written in black and white or the lyrics rhymed with music is immortalized. So when can be friendship be immortalized?

In a friendship assuming arguendo that it goes into fade …exactly what is it that withers…. Is it the friend …. Is it the memories… or the totality of which?

Can our best friend be our best enemies….? What happens if like an art work the color blending is destroyed by a splat of water …. or the whole piece is burned by fire can you still envision it like an art work…. What happens… to friendship? What happens to the art work?


When do we give up explaining? When do we stop understanding? Do we succumb for its death after all?

Well all was is will be a friend to another….but a few will always be to another…..even after death.

Gud Eve

Sunday, February 10, 2008

definition by contrast


> Today….

Was a chilly and breezy Sunday morning… went to mass then hang out with some friends at IHOP (international house of pancakes) to grab some brunch. Some chitchats this and that. Then I went home at 3 pm.

Right after I got home I went to the kitchen to get me a glass of water from the fridge… and guess what I noticed? The dried trees beneath my window slightly covered with white. Hallelujah… at long last the heavens again poured out its white… though again conservatively and I would still wait till tonight if it’ll be generous of its pouring.

Most of these days has been sunny days but chilly. Sometimes I could see the tip of the trees or plans with some signs of life again as if spring would by pass winter this time. I wonder if this is all part of the change of weather… and the global warming stuff.

_________________________________________________________

But one thing caught my attention from the sight I had witnessed …the tree highlighted with the snow … must be a good one to draw … I said to myself a good one to experiment a new medium. And perhaps a good write will do

In comparison ….

The light colors highlight the darkness and emphasizes the solid form of a matter. For if it was only the dark pigment then it would only be a dull subject.

What defines light? Is it the light itself or is it the presence of shade? And vise versa…What defines the shade? Is it the shade in itself or is it the presence of light?

Can a white be white if there is not the contrast of black? And the same is asked the other way around can a black be black if there is no ivory but alone ebony?

I think the contour of each of the above is intensified by the presence of the other.

Exactly my next question would be? Can we say that a day would be tiring if there is no night to rest and refresh our vitality? And can we sleep throughout the night if there is no active day to go through...all but darkness… can we still call it a calm one if no tiring and noisy day to compare with.

Do we know what the difference if we don’t have a basis of comparison? Of our lives compared to others or that we might have lived or we might have become?

Complimentary leading to a conclusion…..

Like life the light and shade compliment each other with the way we live. A life illustrated with just the shade is a miserable and grim one…. And a life illuminated by too much light does not show the real image and its form…in both ways the vision is impaired… the appreciation is not authentic in the veracity of the essence of things… of people… of this thing we call… life.

Good Sunday…….

Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

L'Age Cassant



(I have experimented another medium... compressed chalk pastel)
by: Rene' Char

Ju suis ne’ comme le rocher, avec mes blessures.

I’ai de naissance la respiration aggressive





Translated by: Mary Ann Caws

I was born like a rock, with my wounds.

From birth I have had an aggressive breathing.


___________________________________________________________


A person’s courage is innate… one not only acquires the attributes he has thru experience and interaction but thru birth.

And latter on imbued with these attributes as if part of one self …. tantamount as the oxygen we have partaken from the cord our mothers shared with us inside their wombs and of the first air that was inhaled … as soon as the lungs begun to function.

We think that we don’t have the guts to face trials ahead and to confront the long but narrow road we call life but then again little do we know that there is this certain potential force that runs in our veins like the verloin blood.

Of who we are … we are not made as we age but we were born to be who we are. The only differences would lie on the choice of whether to manifest these innate qualities we have through our convictions or we divert it to some other way.

Earlier I had made a comment about a post of Journeytime one of the blogs I usually visit and I was delighted with my comment that I did not want to let it pass without sharing my thought. It was about a response to his post entitled “The Persistence of Memory” and the main guise of my response was about the courage of letting go … and my thought goes: ( only an excerpt of the whole… just as those in connection with my post)



“Being stuck in a barb (wire) we must make a decision either... to have courage to pull the fangs of the barb deep within our skin... see our very skin bleed hence momentarily grief...
OR
manifest cowardice just as to let the barb be pegged deep within our skin but forever be in pain…
… like a tooth ache which we procrastinate to leave it to the pliers of the dentist...

Letting go ...is hard and painful but it is better than to hold on but be resentful.

Hard as it is to use a great part of our subconscious mind for it is a higher form of intelligence than the usual and true it takes a lot of trial and error ...but then again no one leads to perfection because it always yields to a perfect circle not a straight line”


Nota Bene:
Rene Char is a modern French poet. He was known for his profound poetic philosophy , most of it was his aphorisms. Aphorism like the French phrase above is a concise set of words leading into a thought and resolved with such tension unlike a poem or an essay which may be a bit lengthy expounding more the flow of thoughts.

Char is a surrealist which later on became a hero of French resistance. He is a good friend to some of the known artists… the likes of Braque, Giacometti and Picasso.
____________________________
I hopee the wind has blown away the ashes of the painful memories...


Kung Hei Fatchoy
Happy Chinese New Year

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

RES GESTAE

Res gestae is an account of things done from one who had just witnessed a startling occurrence fresh from his or her mind
>

Today …..

This morning it started to snow…. after a long while it didn’t, the last time the snow fell was before Christmas. And it was great having coffee and watching the crystals fall down on trees and the paved from afar my window… As if tiny particles of mana from heaven… numerous falling down visible in the eyes.

I tried counting … but I knew it was impossible. And then the crystals started to fall in a few from being numerous. Still it would be impossible. But it was a such a bliss for me today.

Well it only means one thing I still would have to put off the new trainers I just bought for a while for a fine tune in … for a long time the city has been sunny yet chilly so it was a good time for a run but for this morning ….

Continuation of Yesterday’s celebration….

Yesterday was one hell of a day… I was in the city for a shop and dinner with Iris my flat mate then…

We were hurrying to get ourselves home to have a beer and watch the Super Bowl the game between the NY Giants and NE Patriots with a friend, Christian. When Iris and I got home the game already started … Christian was already on the coach helping himself with a Samuel Adams feeling a bit disappointed … the Giants were down to a 3 and the Patriots leading to a 7.

You know what I mean … the possibilities of the Giants losing were greater than that of losing … but still we were hopeful, the 3 of us. So Iris and I got some beers from the ref and joined our friend on the coach. It was a sequence of turning the leads ... the giants managed to take a lead only to put the Patriots again back to the lead.

The Final moment came and it was quite hard for the Giants to win the game …I took a sip from my bottle my 2 friends were losing hope ..our anxious eyes on the big screen .... there all our attentions were focused … heavy breaths….

When the unexpected –but-hoped-for event happened the Giants had a winning touch down by Buress. Wow! Christian and I jumped and hifived …. Matchel (Iris) screamed with glee and all hopes were awakened as if we were also in the field watching the very same game the boob tube was televising live. The coach of the Giants displayed a grin and was awakened from dullness and boredom whereas the Patriots coach… just showed a scratch in the head … and had hoped for something in contrast from me and my 2 friends were hoping for … but the Giants kept on coming …and the patriots never recoverd…. Thus a victory to the former.

Right after the game was finished we held a lot of yelling and noise outside. We thought some people were fighting and the sirens were continuously sounding. We went out to see what was the locomotion all about only to find out that a lot of people were merry making having the same sentiments and moments as me and my 2 friends were having at that moment.

Then we saw fireworks in the sky from a distance. It occurred to us that our eyes and concentration were not the only ones fixated on the screen earlier during the game but perhaps almost all of New York and New England or maybe the whole wide world. We said to ourselves … “Oh and it was not only us … “ then we laughed and went inside.

It was just at one point that we had to enjoy the moment .. aside from the victory that the Giants had … they were able to break the winning streak of the Patriots of having a perfect season of zero defeats or losses. And the game was a perfect picture of pure faith and determination. That really at the last minute of a game or of anything when you put. I admire the spirit ….Marvelous just marvelous

And I remembered what the Altar boy’s talk was earlier yesterday in the church was… he was talking about his life in the Seminary and about life in general connecting it to the Super Bowl that would still have to happen latter.

That in a football there are several players and a long runs to encounter like life … and each and everyone of us are receivers of the ball. That every receipt of the ball passed one should be on guard to see if he is in the open … free of guards and obstacles. And when he is …he receives the ball ...run in his mightiest amidst the obstructions that the other team makes and perform the ultimate … a touch down.

He furthered that in life … THE ALL KNOWING…EVER PRESENT UP THERE throws the ball at each one …as a receiver and the ball is the goal … a direction or a profession … and to go on to perform that goal and fulfilling it not only for the sake of doing so but with dedication.

YOU ...HOW DO YOU ENVISON LIFE OR YOUR GOALS? Is it like a sport too? Or you just see life as life? Any res gestae for you?

Later on today …. Again it stopped snowing in the early afternoon… it didn’t even leave a remnant of white in the streets. Crazy weather I guess….



Copyright Symbol 2006
jbaltazar.