here's a couple before i head out for the night.

they were both taken on campus. obviously.

here's Pontiak with Honey:


i suck

this camera is simple; brutally simple, even. here's a gag reel of sorts.

too dark:

way too dark:

horribly out of focus:

3 wasted shots. UGHHHHHHHHHH.

here's the Radio Dept. with Your Father:


a little buk

it was just a little while ago

almost dawn
blackbirds on the telephone wire
as I eat yesterday's
forgotten sandwich
at 6 a.m.
on a quiet Sunday morning.

one shoe in the corner
standing upright
the other laying on it's

yes, some lives were made to be

welp. that about says it all.

here's Bill Evans playing My Foolish Heart:


last night was fun. me and the guys made some punch, invited some people over, and headbanged to Grim Reaper all night long.

here's a song from Grim Reaper called Rock You to Hell:


broke and tired

i've had some technical difficulties with my camera, but all is well. somehow the mechanism that feeds the photo up and through the top side of the camera jammed, breaking some fragile inner bits in the process. the good ol' folks at Mel Pierce Camera & Digital have decided to help me swap out my busted junk for a new one, though. anywho, here's a photo:

i spotted this gnarly guy out near my usual walking path. it looked so lonesome and weary just sitting there with it's neck curled up and under itself.

just a farther was this lonely, lonely bridge.

and then this happened. looks like some light crept in and spoiled my photo. or did it?

here's a song from Tamaryn called Dawning:


can't sleep

it's 3 am and i can't sleep.

i know what's wrong, but i don't want to admit it.

there's nothing i can do.

here's Asobi Seksu with a song called It's Too Late:


st. valentine

two very different pieces from Pablo Neruda's "Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair" as translated by WS Merwin:

Here I love you
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
sometimes a sail. High, high stars.

Oh the black cross of a ship.
Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.
Here I love you.

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.
The moon turns its clockwork dream.

The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


PS. here's one of my favorite love songs of all time. enjoy.


a weekend

it's been a weird one, but i wouldn't have it any other way. after a few hours buried under reading assignments, i finally ventured out to take a few photographs of my friends in various states of sobriety.

two hours and twenty-four dollars later i'm back at home, my nose buried in a book once again. only this time i'm not reading, just sleeping.

here's Mono performing a song called Sabbath:



just a quick post today.

i spent most of the day at the campus library poring over a textbook full of Spanish-American literature. time to wander around in search of interesting things is sparse for me these days, so here's a tree i saw:

and here's another tree, replete with a bench (take not of the hollowed-out sun):

a visit to the bar with my favorite guys is in order. there's a bourbon there with my name in it.

catch you on the flippy.

PS. here's a new little song from Tyler the Creator called Yonkers:


went for a walk

it was still plenty cold out, but the pretty, golden sheen that the sun threw over everything made it hard to resist a stroll.

i must have spent a good hour just walking, not taking a single picture, but thinking about what changes the past few months had brought. thankfully, i ran into these guys before my mind went totally adrift:

i heard them before i saw them. they were laughing hard. one of them had just sideswiped a tree while hurrying down the pitch in their makeshift sled. i asked to take a snapshot and the smallest of the two instantly stamped up the cant, wisps of warm air pluming from his face. he waited at the top for a few seconds - brimming with all the pluck that comes natural to boys his age - before casually shoving himself down. i took two shots, kept this one and gave them the other.

it's hard to remember what worry felt like at that age. it's a shame. the pains of being stalwart in the face of responsibility and emotion can so easily overshadow the wonderful nothingness of adolescence. the trick to feeling young forever (i think) is to be foolhardy with both your words and affection. fall hard and fall often.

here's a song from The Pains of Being Pure at Heart called Teenager in Love.


50-cent wells

this is what they do to your bedroom:

not one of my finest nights; getting blitzed and ambling around with a gaggle of ladies is always nice, though.

on a better note, as soon as i woke up i saw this:

the sun's a welcome change from the snowy hell that's been dragging across northern Texas recently.

Here's a song from Girls called Carolina:



my name is josh.

i like taking photos of things.

other things i like: watching bands writhe around on-stage, reading early in the morning, stumbling into small bars, and eating at hole-in-the-walls.

hopefully, i'll be able to document all of the above with my trusty instax.