stark ranting

I have fond memories of playing croquet in our neighbors yard when I was growing up in Ashfield. It was a different world there. Our neighbors lived in a log cabin without electricity. I would walk a path through the forest every day to play with my friend Jonas. The world seemed so vast and unimaginable back then. The unexplored regions between our two houses mysterious and a little frightening. Everything was a new experience back then. Every day a new adventure. We had to grow up eventually though. It didn't seem all that bad at the time. Making the transition into adulthood brought a new sense of freedom. You're direction in life is completely up to you - but maybe it's not really freedom after all. Maturity brought new responsibility and countless rules forced upon us by society. Adventure was replaced by interminable rigidity; all of our energy spent in an effort to stay between the lines. Maybe the cost of modern day living isn't worth the price. Maybe our neighbors had the right idea. The thought occurs to me that if I could go back to the place and time, I would.

Posted by stark at 02:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Trees reach toward the sky in a powerful upward form, rooted in the earth below. Soft green leaves extending from their branches. The pale blue sky is barely visible through small gaps in the canopy above, pierced by delicate shafts of light that cut through the surrounding mist. This is the forest in which we find ourselves. We are these proud, majestic trees. Given form and the paradox of time, our growth extends beyond known limits. The beauty of our collective is singular. Weak and imperfect when taken in isolation, together we have the capacity to become something sublime, to achieve the implausible. Remember this and stand tall among your brothers and sisters as you find your way. Contribute your individuality and never stop reaching for the sky.

Posted by stark at 01:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In retrospect I realize how badly I was in need of a vacation. A break from work. From life. Even from myself. I feel much better about everything now. I remember how to appreciate life again.

Posted by stark at 04:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

[Written in a train station in Italy.]

You hold it in your hands, running your fingers over the taught, unyielding fibers. The knot is one of man in a series. Some small. Some large. Some intertwined in a confusing mesh of loops and twists. You've held each knot in your hand a thousand times before. They've been there for as long as you can remember. You even have a certain fondness for them. For their familiarity. But you know that each one is an aberration, an anomaly. They don't belong there. So you hold each one in your hand. Pulling. Poking. Twisting. Desperately trying to loosten the strands. But the knots have stood the test of time. Each one getting pulled a little tighter every passing day.

There are however rare occasions when you get a temporary break from the strain. A fleeting moment of relief from the constant tug of war that prevents you from making any progress on the knots. If you're lucky, you may find during that brief moment that one of the knots starts to give a little. The twists and turns bend slightly as you tug on them. Soon you may find that you have enough play to loosten and ultimately untie the knot. In doing so you can achieve some small amount of satisfaction that the strands are not quite as twisted as they were before. Perhaps you feel better about yourself as well.

Posted by stark at 04:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Check 'em out using the link on the left.

Posted by stark at 12:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I'm slacking on getting my pictures up. The problem is I haven't been able to stay awake later than 10pm any night this week. Hopefully I will have them up by the end of the weekend.

Posted by stark at 09:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)