My Favorite Vacation

Hi again,

I am writing this from my work computer today. It seems that there is not enough time in the day after work to do much with this blog right now, so I'll just do some entries over my lunch hours. Work itself is hard right now though with the shear amount I am doing. Last night my work load kept me here till almost 7 pm, which means I missed the Wednesday night dinner this week. It seems that most people in our group missed it as well. Hopefully I will switch departments soon. Wherever I end up going at this company, it will be a difficult transition. That being said I do look forward to the challenge.

I included this picture of the Chinese Garen of Friendship in Sydney Australia because I need some tranquility today. I spent hours in this garden just wandering around one day. There are more pictures, but this one is a favorite of mine. There is a second reason I included this picture, and it deals with my work. Recently I received an email asking me if I wanted to immigrate to Australia. A long time ago I was set on moving there. Australia is a great country, as is America where I live. I really enjoyed my vacation there, and have friends who live in Australia. I want to go back, but for how long? Yes I still look at companies there to see if they need a skilled engineer, and I could probably immigrate there with my degree and experience but I cannot go there blind. It is just not how my life works. I was conditionally accepted at one of the colleges there in Sydney awhile back. I didn't do all the formal paperwork, but from talking to the department there, they would have more than welcomed my admission as a graduate student, but would not have assited me financially.

Does this mean I dislike my job? It is a job, not a career, so yes I somewhat dislike my job. Who doesn't? There are places here in Houston that I can go to try and find some tranquility, but I keep these pictures from Sydney to remind me of the time years ago that I was there. If I end up over there, then this blog will have to change somewhat, but not too much.

My lunch is getting cold, and I only get 1 hour for lunch.

till later,

Nate

Sunday Falling Down

Sundays are always quiet at the house. Usually I wake up late and eat either breakfast or lunch, depending on when I get up. This morning I woke up a little after 10 am. Breakfast consisted of a fried egg sandwich and some V8 juice stuff. Not the straight tomato juice, as I cannot stand the stuff, but the fusion stuff with blended berries in it. The rest of the morning was spent listening to music and watching some tv. I downloaded a few photos from the last few days in my spare time. I had a few from the drive home. Taking pictures from a moving vehicle at night has peaked my interest for a long time. There were a few of the moon as well. I need to determine how to get a slightly clearer picture because the pictures are good, but not great. The clarity is not good enough. It will be better.

It is slightly before 1 pm now. I should get back in the kitchen to fix a sandwich or light snack. I needed to write some first though. It's been a few years now that I have been writing, both overall and here on writing.com. There are some older poems, or prose, that I look at and wonder what i was going through or thinking at the time I wrote them.

Sorry I had to turn the tv off of a movie, and onto one of the cable channels myriad of music channels. I lose some concentration when a movie is on, it draws my attention away. It was a good movie, in my opinion, The Wedding Singer. Is it wrong to like Adam Sandler movies? Billy Madison was on earlier today. Maybe it is an Adam Sandler movie weekend.

Back to writing now. The Verve - Love is Noise is playing on the tv. It leads me back to my earlier writings. Some of them stick in my head to never leave, while others seem just noise that escaped me. Truth is I started writing on here for a friend that I love dearly. Some of those loving feelings were true and deep, while others were just writings. Not all of the poems/prose were about love, but the majority of them were. It was a difficult relationship, at times it was painful, but most of the difficulty arose from my own insecurities. Maybe love just naturally tests those deep seated insecurities that we all have.

I say all this now, because I have been wondering about my feelings that I expressed through those writings. The relationship never really ended, but it has dimmed quite low on the candle wick. There have been friends who have read what I write, and really like them saying I have some gift inside of me. That leads me back to why I wrote those feelings down. If I am gifted, which I have serious doubts about, then why am I still here alone? My friend was my first real fan of what I wrote, of my feelings. Why am here, and she is there far away? My insecurities rise up and try to block what is in my heart, playing on the weaknesses that reside within my soul. I feel lost and alone sometimes.

A friend of mine told me once how much I really meant to them. It was quite touching and dear, one of those moments you never forget. My friends are as good as my family at pulling me away from the quiet murmurs that my soul puts on my heart. But I do miss one of my best friends, my first fan, and best muse. She knows what she will always mean to me, and I know what I mean to her.

I need to write
to get this away

I need to think
to get this straight

I need you today
to set my heart right

I need you tonight
to set my candle alit.

Everything we are
and all we do

is but a prelude
to what our souls house

waiting for the opening
standing by your side

for this world is ours
and life is the beginning.

A new song is playing Gavin Rossdale - Love Remains the Same.

The world revolves around, walls fall down, and people die, but love remains the same.

Nate

Life On The Road

Good morning. It is August 20th, 2008. I am on break at work and thought I would expound on yesterday's blog. To the left is the picture I was talking about in New Mexico. It looks good framed on my parent's wall. I used a small 4.3 megapixel camera, a far cry from what I now use to take photos. There was an aloneness in that photo maybe foreshadowing the days ahead, who knows. Any how the past is just that, the past. I am working hard both at my day job, and at advancing what little photography skills I might possess. My ideal job? If money were not an object I would travel the world taking pictures of whatever was around me. Maybe I would keep a journal of my travels and write a few travel books, with pictures as well. There has always been a solitary aspect to my life. For a long while I just thought myself to be self-centered. Quite possibly I am, but too many times I let myself worry about what others think of me. There are a few poems where I question who I am and why I do what I do. There isn't too much time on this break but I'll post one here before someone comes in and I have to work again. It is a poem I wrote less than a year ago. I have slowed down in my writing. One of my muses has stepped out of my life, and it seems some of my inspiration has left. I have known her for close to 5 years now. She makes me question what I think and feel, and is really one of my best friends. I wish her well. Here is the poem. It has been edited.


Ask Me Again


Ask me again where my mind is,
trapped here and now, caught between times
of innocence and devils' calls.

Ask me again where my heart lies,
beating inside this tattered chest
set with the scars that I've earned.

Ask me again how my soul is,
free from my mind and misgivings
of this old heart, broke but mending.

Ask me again and I'll tell you
This mind is whole, strong, and my own,
guarding against my weaknesses.

Now can you understand where my mind is?
My heart holds love for those it chooses,
even when they are never near.

Now do you see how my heart feels always?
This soul dances to it's own voice,
a quiet, slow waltz through this life.

And now will you dance along with me?


Nate

Houston fountain

My new adopted home - Houston. I have come to appreciate the town that is Houston, TX. I moved here over a year ago thinking that maybe I wouldn't stay here that long. My mind and heart were torn as to where I wanted to be. Still really a big part of me doesn't want to be here, but each day shows me some more of this city. I took this photo from the Museum District of the city. I had spent most of the morning in the Houston Museum of Fine Art. I had thought possibly I would meet some of my friends there to hang out, but as what happens most of the time I spent the morning exploring the area. As I was walking around I saw the fountains at the traffic circle of Montrose and Main. The fountains are cool, but the time of day and sky were not perfect for the picture. I don't know too much about the 'perfect picture' but I seem to take some decent pictures. I am working on a portfolio, but I do not know much about making one. This computer is not great, but has some editing software.
I planned on getting a new computer but I am actual trying to save money. I don't go on a lot of dates, so that is a bonus for saving money. But I still hang out with all my friends a few times a week. Maybe if I stayed home more then I would save it faster, or it I actually tried to sell some of the photos I take I could make more money. Seriously though, are my photographs money worthy? Do I have an eye for what makes a good photo? It is one thing to take nice pictures, but will someone pay for them? I had a thought of a poetry/photo book but that seems so cliche to me, and everything I write seems not good enough for putting in a book. Most of what I write is from a skewed perspective. It is from the same mind, and eye that takes the pictures that I think represent life. I remember a picture I took on the way to Vegas. It was late afternoon at a roadside in New Mexico with the sun past the horizon. The abandoned roadside vegetable stand in the picture seemed as if from another time. I took the picture in black and white for an extra effect. It is a good picture, but I have taken better now. An Olympus E510 is my new camera. I have to buy some new lenses, but I am waiting till I get a new car. A car it seems I will not be getting right now.

Maybe I'll get one this week. Bye.

For a Breath

For a breath I tarry. There is a writer I discovered as a young child. He wrote about a make believe land where you followed the life of a noble prince wrongly thrown out of his world to live in ours. I escaped from my childhood life reading those books. It helped me get through each day in a world I did not want to live in. Later in my life I discovered that yes my world was not that bad as a child. I also discovered that there was more to this author, Roger Zelazny, than just the Amber series. I have read everything that has been published from his works. There may be more works published, but as he has been dead for some time now I don't imagine there is much more unpublished.

I started writing a few years ago. This poem is a small homage to Zelazny. I hope you enjoy.

For A Breath I Tarry


For a breath I tarry,
nor yet disperse apart.
Take my hand quick, tell me
what have you, in your heart.


Lead me to your secrets,
show me all of you, whole.
So that we may live
as two people, one soul.


For your breath I do wait
till the day this feeling
passes from waking thoughts
to leave my mind reeling.


Until that time I sit
with quiet, muted voice.
Afraid of losing you
I have only one choice.


For your breath I tarry,
nor yet disperse apart.
Take my hand quick, tell me
what you have in your heart.

Nate

Downtown Adventures

I live in the third largest city in the United States, Houston TX. After graduating college in 2007, a mid size engineering company offered me a good job here. As I have family in this city, and at the same company, it was an easy decision to move here. There were offers in the Midwest, New Orleans, and California, but my life is in Houston right now. There are about a dozen of my friends from college that moved out here to work. Every Wednesday night we meet for dinner at different restaurants. Most weeks only 6 to 7 of us are there, but one time all us met and it was great.

We have been here over a year, some of us leaving and some others coming here. One of my college friends is now my roommate, but he'll move out come December to further his career by working overseas. This post is about some of our downtown adventures. There are a handful of us that go out to bars or clubs in downtown Houston. To better understand what I am talking about, I must first say that all my college friends here are at most 24 years old. Being single still I prefer to go out with them in lieu of staying home on the weekend. I do need a break every once in awhile, but more often than not you can find me out with them on the weekends.

There are other thirty-somethings out on the weekends too, so I am not too much out of place. But I am a shy guy by nature. I get along with my friends, but if I do not know you then I have a hard time starting a conversation. So when we go out I can be a fun guy, but I don't hit on women at bars much. That means usually I am the designated driver, but not always. Last night I was the DD. I was at a friends house just hanging out watching the Olympics and Michael Phelps winning his 8th gold medal. Some of the guys were not from Houston and wanted to go out to a downtown club. Since I was the sober guy, and have been out downtown some, I was elected to drive. Surprisingly the trip there was rather short. I am including a picture of one of the Enron buildings downtown to show what the skyscrapers there look like. I am probably moving downtown to a loft next year if I am here in Houston.

We got downtown about 12:45 am and found a place to park not too far from the club. Now parking in Houston, especially downtown, can be hard to find so we were lucky. Another fact of life of Houston is the year round temperature. It is almost always warm here even in December. That makes it a nice place to live if you don't like the cold. When we parked last night near the club we saw 3 homeless people sleeping next to a small building. This is a lengthy topic fit for another post, soon hopefully. We got to the club to hang out, and to be sociable. It was $10 to get in with expensive drinks, but it is the best place in Houston that is open till 5 am. Most bars close at 2 am, so everyone not ready to go home comes to Rich's. The music is modern, but good and loud. Having a few beers does help my social skills some and loosens me up, but as the DD I stayed clear of anything alcoholic. I did mingle around and had a decent time, but let my friends go out on their own looking for women. I met a few over the 4 hours we were there, but not alot. It was interesting to see the different people out at the club, as it pulls in quite a few people from all walks of life.

When we were leaving at about 4 am or so, the drunk guys got a pizza from a guy on the street. It was one of those pizzas the guy probably made at home then brought there tho sell to drunk people who didn't really know what they were eating. In Austin they actually have pizza mobiles that make the pizza on the spot. As we were walking back to my car we start talking to the girls in front of us and on past us walking to the club are two transvestites. I do not know if this is a regulated blog, but I won't go into what that word means. 'Her' name is Sebastian. I remember the first time I went to Rich's. I was there with my roommate and one of my best friends. My roommate, who shall ever remain nameless, was pretty drunk and talking to Sebastian. They traded phone numbers that night.

I drove back to my friends house and was too tired to drive back to my home so I crashed on the sofa after having most of a beer. This morning I woke up watched some more Olympics on tv, went out to lunch with one of my friends from last night, and then took off for the house to chill some before my weekend is over.

Tomorrow is off to work, and maybe another day closer to my dreams being fulfilled. They are dreams of love, adventure, monetary gains, and some peace or clarity in this life.

Quietness

I was feeling a little morose one day at work, and wrote down a free verse poem. It does have some structure, but no rhyme. I am going to try and find a picture that would go with the poem.

Quietness

There is a quietness inside me

maybe it is like depression.

I fear that word sometimes

afraid that maybe that's where I am.

In this life I am more of a watcher

not really jumping into the fire.

The fire that is this life

consuming, changing, confusing.

There is a quietness inside me

people mistake for wisdom.

When all I am is afraid to say

the right thing at the right time.

In this life I am one who watches

who takes pictures of beauty.

Beauty that lives in this world

living, loving, laughing.

There is a quietness in here

it is my peace of mind and soul.

My place where I pull back to escape

from the questions and challenges.

The questions that I ask everyday

knowing there are no right answers.

For the answers are not within me

fleeting, fleeing, feelings.

There is a quietness inside of me

that might be called depression.

I am afraid to call it that

for fear that I am really alone.

Alone in this world that never stops

until that day when fate plays your hand

The fate that silently awaits you

.............................................

There is nothing more beautiful than what is natural. I can sit and gaze at the sunset for hours if my life allows it. That is where I wish to be, in a peaceful contemplative place sitting next to whomever wishes to be by my side.