somtimes that notion of respect is lost.the attention to detail,the fine tuning of life is ignored.that pulse of the earth you only notice when the cell phone and all the worlds electronics are powered down.dis connected from the everyday hum of what we fear the most.. our boredom and silence.




i woke up this morning again,to the racing heartbeat of my own body and those cold sweats.that same annoying, freightning ,reoccurring dream of my motorcycle on fire.

in the middle of the street this work i spilled my own blood on and toiled over is 2000 degress of melting wiring and hand pounded metal,burning rubber.
as i look from what feels like a culvert or ditch , ten to fifteen yards away i lay there covered in earth and stare hopelessly at this pile of my winter efforts up in flames.im sure its symbolic of somthing but right now, the thought of this dream is somthing that hasnt fully processed in my brain,im sure.
real zen and the art of......