I have found that it’s not always about what you can see, but sometimes about what you can infer. Our minds can conjure up amazing stories from not knowing all of the details. The face is indeed a character in this life, but so to is the back of the head. For many we see no form, no expression, no immediate story, no tangible evidence of what lies ahead. Oftentimes we just want to know, with eager anticipation we seek to find out what is waiting for us on the other side. There have been many times I am sure when not knowing kept the dream alive…

RJ

These are the conversations that must be had, the difficult ones, the uncomfortable ones. We take trips to places where the air is fresh, the mood is calm, the scenery is easy, maybe to add some balance to the already unpleasant. But it is a necessary discourse that we should both be engaged in, especially if we are to continue. Our lives, our relationship, practically both one and the same, depend on it. So communicate we must, regardless of the discomfort, we must wear our hearts on our proverbial sleeves and find the strength to throw our egos to the side and engage in unadulterated honesty. Only then can we move forward, only then can hatchets be buried, our private thoughts and the words that we speak should be in cohesion, tempered by love and respect for the other, but  truthful at best.  We are here to talk, to work this out, to do what we do as humans so terribly, communicate. In taking this trip to sit on this rock we have both committed to the importance of this discourse, so part of this battle has already been won. So let’s talk…

- RJ

Smoking makes me think or is it thinking that makes me smoke? As the thoughts swirl haphazardly through my head I sometimes feel the need to grab a smoke and comfort myself in this murky cloud. Time would lull and I would hover there for minutes, hours, sometimes it seems like days, lost in this world of swirls and the so familiar smell of my version of fresh air. Only a fellow smoker would understand this place, a fellow thinker may as well. Here is where the long hard thoughts sometime create so much of a frenzy in the head that smoke emits without me even exhaling. Its an action as natural for me as sleeping, as waking, as breathing. I wallow in this space until there is nothing left to burn, no memories, no regrets, no plans and no trace of a butt. I come out of this needing another smoke but having an empty pack.

- RJ

A series of photos capturing the best sport on earth, in my opinion. The wonderful game of cricket, the second most widely played sport in the world, yet so little is known about it here in the US.

This is a game of the proverbial blood sweat and tears.

Hope you enjoy.
-RJ

For many of us there are no well designed playgrounds. No nice benches for us to sit and rest, no water fountains to cool us in the heat. We sit in our doorway as we take a breather from the games we play in the streets. The proverbial concrete jungle is where we thrive or at least attempt to thrive. We play sometimes amongst litter on dirty sidewalks that just looks normal. It is what we see everyday so to us this is normal. There is nothing odd about sitting in the doorway, we do this all the time. This is just what we do here and there, and over there. We just do this, we make a life out of what we have because this is what we know. Truly there is nothing for us to compare this too, so this is good for us. This is just life for us…

RJ

There are days I feel to be invisible, to glide through a crowd with nary a notice. Those are the days I don my stiff brimmed hat and walk with my head angled slightly downward. I feel the mystery I exude as I glide along calmly.  I just want to be alone amongst the crowd. I listen to the conversations and the noisy background hum of the city, but today I am not a part of that. I am an observer, not interacting or seeking interaction. I am enigmatic today.

If I were to ask you paint a picture of my life, I wonder what’s the first color you would use to illustrate what you see. I imagine you would be a bit stumped, a bit confused at the question or more so at what your answer would be. So you start to think about the sum total of my experiences, the good, the bad and the indifferent. You scan the color spectrum mentally and muse about which would reign supreme, which would be the starting point for this psychedelic explosion of a life obviously in flux. You imagine some dull hues for the times when life was simply simple, vibrant colors for the high flying periods and of course darker tones to represent those darker periods. But where do you begin? The first brush stroke has to be right as it sets the tone for creation of this masterpiece and the direction in which you would like it to go. As you noted, this is a life in flux, with past experiences being catalytic to the path. So the first stroke is as equally important as the tenth or the fiftieth or the one hundredth. Each documenting the past , the present and laying the groundwork for the future. This is in itself a work in flux, alive as I am, with many complexities and varying tones. A work that is never really complete regardless of the passage of time, for even in passing the painting must continue.

RJ

There is nothing like that place, where you can go when the weather is just right. Where you leave the life behind for a short time. The noise of the city, the worries of the day. A place where the wind blows ever so gently and the sun shines through the leaves of the tree above casting perfect shadows on your paper below. Here you sit, relax and write. You spill the contents of your soul, the baggage of your life, the honesty of your feelings. As you shed every tear in every word and hope for new beginnings with hopes that the peace of your surroundings transfer to your life and bring calm there too. You write with fervor as the inspiration floods the mind with ideas and you flow with ease, rapidly darkening the paper with thoughts transformed into words. You come here because it makes it easier to purge, to deal, to write. It makes it easier for you to create.

RJ

Perhaps I will just have a seat right here on the sidewalk and jump on my phone. I know I may be obstructing the pathway, but this call is of supreme importance and anything goes when it’s spring time. Not sure why folks would stare at me as there is nothing odd about my behavior. I have seen people do stranger things than this. That is as if to say I believe this is strange. That last man seemed quite upset though he hardly uttered a word, just brushing by ever so emphatically, without even saying excuse. The nerve of people.