“Good stuff,” he said, not looking at anyone in particular. “All I want is good stuff. Nothing more, nothing less. I want my little bit of sweet, and to have it more than the bitter. Way more.”

Jeffrey Mistlethorpe had not yet realized the calamity of the situation he was in.

Make believe
cover your eyes and count
to ten

Make believe
open your eyes and look
at me

Show me what you think
I’ll show you what I think

We’ll see each other
in a land of
make believe

So many happy happenings
to find, to have, to be

For make believe
is what we
believe in

My friend Husam got himself a Harley, I got myself a camera, a couple of strobes and a light diffuser that seems to have been a shower cap in a previous life.

I’ve been fiddling around with a hybrid photography/graphic style that’s often referred to as hyper-realism.

They asked what love is
I asked what life is

We looked at each other
like children in a playground
asking questions we couldn’t answer

We giggled
we loved
we lived

That is all we did
that is all we needed
that is all

That is all

Once, there was a moment that surrendered to eternity.

Like all moments before it, this particular moment was not made to last. At least that’s what everyone thought at first.

In a medley of love and hate, defeat and triumph, lies and retribution; the moment came about. It looked at the blue sky patched with fluffy white clouds and asked, “what is it that makes me so…so momentous?”

The sky of course, being a sky, didn’t answer.