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    A story in 31 Scenarios, Utilizing a Long Strand of Shadows. In an effort to get creative discipline into my schedule I decided to create one ne… Read More
    A story in 31 Scenarios, Utilizing a Long Strand of Shadows. In an effort to get creative discipline into my schedule I decided to create one new photo-montage per day for the month of October 2012. With a full-time job, and also a full-time life, this quickly became a bit of a stressful endeavor. I persevered and even amidst the additional whirlwind (sic) of a monster storm hitting New York City I completed the project only one day behind. The driving idea was to try and create a story-line to go along with the images. I work exclusively with my own photography, so daily I would take more photos to extend the visual possibilities. Every day I would attempt to compose the next episode in the story – with no planned direction for the narrative. There were many days I just floated the story on top of the images (suggesting mid-point that all of what was happening was as a result of the subject of the narrative ingesting a hallucinogenic drug). Within the last week I chose to attempt a link between the end of the story and the beginning ~ the end , the beginning; a mobius strip loop of a tale. Hop aboard ~ the Trip is Nigh. Read Less
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Nigh Trip in 31 parts
A Story in 31 Scenarios, Utilizing a Long Strand of Shadows and Text.
A digital collage a day, with a fragment of story-text to go with each image created, to move it along. October 2012.  

Part 1 of 31
Perhaps it was Lady Luck, his favored Muse, who pushed the button that signaled for the bus to stop ~ prompting his decision to step out into the street, in hopes of regaining his Momentum, emerging from his Expansive state of mind.

Part 2 of 31
Street corners are always more illuminated because they come with options. Stop or Go ~ and if the latter: turn, or cross?
Multiple tines to this Fork, and pocket fumbling reveals no coin to flip.
The kitty-corner diagonal, with it's temptation of breaking the rules of The Box, its whispered danger zones, wins out; foot forward.

Part 3 of 31
Too late in this day, this night, to walk the streets in search for coffee, or is it just too early for tomorrow? Almost smell it brewing. Perhaps it would shake Time out of this quiet Suspension.

Part 4 of 31
Romantic as the end of Casablanca, this casual strolling of deserted early-morning streets with a cup of coffee.
Anxiety arrives like film flapping loose at the end of a reel: the need for a bathroom. 
Patrons of a bus station public bathroom at 4am are an assorted lot.

Part 5 of 31
Morning has broken. Like a plastic fork. The Magic has not worn off. Shards of light sharp to the eye. Another day is gifted. What to make of this one?!

Part 6 of 31
Autumn leaves stick to the wet street, a chill is in the air.  
The mind has a way of tapping into song lyrics: "Why does it seem so inviting?". 
Won't be so long before the white gloves of snow applaud the coming of Winter.
Where to now?

Part 7 of 31
A few moments shelter in here.
No rhyme for Orange, but Azure compliments it all the same.
But what rhymes with Labyrinths, an orange one let's say? Hyacinths - and those can be Azure.
These kinds of thoughts can tumble down your mind's stairs ~ when you stumble onto carrot colored hallways, after a night with no sleep.

Part 8 of 31
The man on the other end of bench explained: That's Mr and Mrs Botero. Retired couple. They're up with the birds almost every day, walking all around the neighborhood, exploring, examining ~ like two architect students. I asked them about it once, they said they call it "window shopping".

Part 9 of 31
The hunger for a three-egg omelet gives way to tiredness ~ but the Desire salmons up bloodstream (no longer aflutter with caffeine), and constructs dreamworlds high above this bench, up among the clouds, to satisfy the hunger, until waking.

Part 10 of 31
There is a number ~ in the whole history of Metropolis ~ that someone has been awakened from dreams on a bench due to a bird alighting on their leg.
The sharp bird claws force the artifacts of the dream to fade behind the buildings, and questions to rise to the surface: How long have I slept? What time is it?

Part 11 of 31
Morning has disappeared in wandering the neighborhood unfamiliar ~ and dreaming on a bench.
Time for food.
The carrot at the end of the stick remains an omelet, even though the choices seem endless.

Part 12 of 31
Reflecting over eggs ~ which came first? 
Oh yes recalls memory - that flight (fetal silhouette)! 
Something happened in the haze. There was a falling figure, and then a jump edit to the bus, the night.
Wet streets, coffee and a bathroom. Autumn leaves, anticipation of snow.
Will the linear emerge? Which came first - the chicken or these eggs?

Part 13 of 31
It came first, before the eggs. Point A ~ awestruck at dusk, yesterday. The odds of just happening to LOOK UP!! (Lady Luck has her hands in so many games.)
Just close enough to make out the fetal position.
Perhaps from this point on Time had eased into film frames, momentum redirected, another level of Dazzle kicking in. Point B unknown; going with the flow.

Part 14 of 31
Fast > Forward. Slow motion < downward. Whatever it was, made getting there possible. Then ~ standing, watching . . . falling, and a Sense of Falling.

Part 15 of 31
Suspended. Animation. Aviation. Suspending disbelief. Was someone in a fetal position gliding spinning down from a rooftop to the ground below? There were people pointing upward back there, weren't there? Shock and Awe can slow down any process for closer examination. Even gravity?!

Part 16 of 31
Seeing no strings ~ just a figure (looking so very familiar), dangling by some kind of magic. The middle - the tipping space.
Recalling it now, but - was all this in the dream on the bench? No, it was before night came on, before the bus.
The past is present. Stare at it. Be it.

Part 17 of 31
Sometimes things flip in such a way that you can see things from another's perspective.
A balance shift at some median tipping point.
Someone down there had been walking up the street, staring up here.
Down there? Up here? All together now . . .

Part 18 of 31
Snapped together: links in a chain. Separate yet together ~ interlocked like a knee joint; flexible, moving.
One pulling up like a kite, the other down like an anchor. Can you get any closer than that?
Quite obviously One now, but with a long strand of shadows.

Part 19 of 31
An amazing sense of unity. Inside and outside. Standing and falling all at once ~ on a peak looking up at the sky, down at the earth ~ not attached to either. That was where the getting lost began, in the waves of that surging energy.

Part 20 of 31
It was indeed a long journey, centuries in less than a day. Seconds full of eternity. Is this what happens when you eat a Y?

Part 21 of 31
74 years, almost to the day, after LySergic acid Diethylamide was first synthesized by Albert Hofmann, a drop of the chemical was placed on an Newman's Own alphabet (Y) cookie.
Eating the cookie had made the evening and night's events intense and nonlinear.
Now with the new day moving along, the pieces were slowly falling into place, a clearer remembering.
He had run, he had fallen, he had done neither.

Part 22 of 31
It was like a film projection ~ the inner tumbling flight, the fetal nakedness beneath ~ up onto the skyscraper night. A dancing with Chaos, who now slips behind the fence as the street reemerges gradually.

Part 23 of 31
All descending ~ and Time reclaiming the realm. Danger fenced in. Time for a change of scenery.

Part 24 of 31
Aldous Huxley knew of such terrain. And buses too! He wrote: "Sitting on the top of the bus/ I bite my pipe and look at the sky."
No pipe nor double-deckers here ~ but a self in need of transport through these magical lands

Part 25 of 31
Motorcoach Variations 1 of 4. Magic Bus. Magical Mystery Tour. Something about this mode of transportation. Night bends towards the coming day. All aboard.

Part 26 of 31
Motorcoach Variations 2 of 4.  
All aboard the bus, like a human body ~ certainly an organism.

Part 27 of 31
Motorcoach Variations 3 of 4.
The bus, like a human body ~ the unit moves, and the guts move independently.
Three dimensions outside viewed with binoculars ~ two dimensions inside examined with a microscope, a monocle.

Part 28 of 31
Motorcoach Variations 4 of 4.
It will be time to get off soon. To attach the Past to the Present to the Past as Mobius would do.
In the meantime to be tempted by this apple, whose presence in the pocket has suddenly made itself pronounced.

Part 29 of 31
Is that a friend of Gérard de Nerval mixing with Chaos, Lady Luck, and Other Forces masquerading as lobsters?
No matter who has pushed the button to light up the Stop Request sign - it is time to think Outside the Bus.

Part 30 of 31
Getting off. Ah yes - there is that bright street corner. And there will be much walking. A search for coffee. Recalling now a bus station bathroom somewhere ahead. Orange labyrinths ~ and even a Mr. & Mrs. Botero await somewhere. The day awaits. Onward!

Part 31 of 31
Somewhere there is a breakfast of eggs. A naked fetal version of Self, falling from the sky, becoming more translucent.

Memories now, of the More-Than-Nigh Trip of the evening.

Soon it will be time to re-collect the fragments, like scenes of a film on an editing table, to edit into a more linear mode.

And then it will be time to take the experience home and write about it.

Start over.