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I love you.

35

I made a huge mess at the house before I left. I over-watered a couple of plants and flooded some spots there shouldn't be wet. I had to fly to Monroe, LA on Wednesday afternoon to meet a client. Airports are interesting places to people watch. I'm surprised at how big this "camo" crazy is with kids these days. It seems every third kid has camo attire on... usually frayed. Every 10th kid has pink camo... /boggle. The flight out was uneventful, but the flight back (post terrorist plot foiling) was a pain in the ass. I read in the in-flight magazine about this little GPS gizmo that plugs into your cars onboard computer and records streaming data on acceleration/deceleration, speeds, locations, etc. and pushes them to a USB flash drive that can later be imported into software that parents can use to track their child's driving history and where they've been. Big Mother is always watching! There was a shirt at the airport that read "Beer! Now cheaper than gas." It cost $70.74 to fill my truck up the other day. Ridiculous. The night I landed in Monroe, we met our client for drinks after work. I hadn't eaten and the beer, Crown, and Makers on an empty stomach was brutal. Eventually we ended up at this place called The Waterfront Grill on the banks of Bayou DeSiard. I had their specialty: Catfish DeSiard with Shrimp Rakhee topping. Crack sauce. Mostly business on Thursday and the highlight of my day was really the struggle with airport procedures getting back. I met a man in Louisiana that told stories of hitting a shotgun shell with his lawnmower blade and blowing the side of his mower off while grooming the yard. He told another story about him and his girlfriend drinking beers near the river and tossing a handful of .22 caliber bullets into the campfire, realizing while they were in mid air what he'd done, and having to run and hide behind trees so as to not be shot when they went off a few seconds later. Oddly, it wasn't until he was done with those stories that I noticed the missing end of his index finger. Every year, Erin would plan for months in advance to make my birthday special. She would give me a luau every year as a tradition with all sorts of activities for the guests and keen decorations. She really put a lot of work into it and it was always special. Tomorrow is my birthday and I couldn't stand the thought of being home alone for it. I miss her. I drove to Corpus Christi last night to see some old friends and get away. Rob and Beth I've known for most of my life... easily since I was a single digit youth. Rob and I were inseparable when we were kids... two peas in a pod. I arrived at Beth's house just before dusk and we caught up. Rob showed up a little later on his new Buell (which I of course had to test drive around the block) and we headed to The Pelican Club where Rob's wife, Tammy, joined us momentarily. Keep the mind busy. If I stop, it all catches up with me. Having to shelf my Rocky Mountain panoramic project for a while, I came up with something else to kill time as I wait to get old and die. I'm going to rework some of my color landscapes into black and whites. I did a couple already and put them on my Flickr page, but I'm not sure I'm happy with the work yet. I'm been using a single RAW file (the digital negative) and reexposing it into multiple frames and then using the bits I like from each to extend the dynamic range of the shot a little on either side of the original exposure. I dodge and burn manually and use a lot of layers as I work toward the final result. Anyway, that's that. I am headed to City Tortilla Factory to eat a few taquitos in Sean's honor and then I'm going to my mom's to see my handsome little boy. More time passes.

I've been travelling with work. I'm so tired I feel as though I'll collapse. I wasn't going to write at all, 'cept today is my brother Sean's birthday and I needed to tell him I love him. Happy birthday bish. I'm going to try to sleep. I'll write more tomorrow.

typical Texas scene

After work tonight, I drove to Hallettsville, TX... and back. Barrett rode along to keep me company. I had to take Sir Henry and Éclair to my mother for some pet sitting due to my hectic work schedule this week. Being a single dad is difficult. We stopped on the way back at Red's Grocery for a beer and directions to the nearest down home chicken fried steak in the county. By the time I finally got back home, it was late and I was once again exhausted. I can't sleep. The house is especially quiet and empty without The Peanut. We saw this neat wooden windmill on the way cross country to I-10 from alternate 90. I stopped for a snapshot despite the incredible need to find a restroom. Nothing else really happened today of note other than I shaved off my beard. It was spontaneous. I was giving Éclair a scissor cut and just went inside and did it. I look about 10 years younger (again). I feel about 20 years older.

of course... The Windy City would have windmills

"Even though the journey's long And I know the road is hard Well, the One who's gone before me He will help me carry on After all that I've been through Now I realize the truth That I must go through the valley To stand upon the mountain of God"

I can't sleep. I just lay in bed... and cry.

"When you depart from me sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave." - William Shakespeare

fading away

"Courageous - that’s how you see me; successful - that’s how you believe in me; happy - that’s what you expect of me; but... emptiness - that’s what is inside of me." - Unknown Emptiness.

"Trust in the LORD, and do good..." I am disconnected. I really dislike sitting down to write some of my thoughts down here and it being repetitively dark and hopeless sounding. Is the soundtrack of my life skipping on the scratch? I don't intend it to be so, but it is just the way it comes out. I live in this limbo between normalcy and personal torture. I think there is some healthiness in acknowledgement, but healthy doesn't make it hurt less. I really had a hard time this weekend despite Sean's visit. His presence help immensely, but I can tell I'm dysfunctional. I cry a lot still... a lot. I suppose I'm impatient and am expecting too much. I try so hard to just let it come. Breath in. Breath out. Wait. Let the days pass and see how things are presented in my life. I'm been standing on my faith quite a lot recently and question my own strength. I'm thankful for the friends that I have and the life I've led to date. I am thankful for Erin. I have lived. I'm just scared... more so than I have ever been. Faith. "Never measure the height of a mountain until you have reached the top. Then you will see how low it was." Sean must have been on New Zealand time yesterday. I finally woke him up at 3:00 pee emm to eat. I'd been up all day with Sir Henry and the 'ole tummy was grumbling. I didn't really care about any of the bands on the bill other than Deftones, so I asked Sean if he would mind us forgoing the other sets. We agreed and arrived at Cynthia Woods Pavilion about 10 minutes before they took the stage. Chino and his boys put on a fabulous show. I prefer the detuned and darker stuff ala Team Sleep, but from a live performance aspect, it was all good. They finished it up with Change and when we saw they were breaking down for whoever was next, we quietly left. It's an artifact of adulthood I appreciate more than most... selectivity. We stopped at El Palenque for some last-night-in-Texas Mexican food for Sean before catching the late showing of Clerks 2 at The Movie Tavern. Hilarious and very typical Kevin Smith, it will probably offend more than not, but a great follow up to the original. By the time we got home and played some late night video games over caffeinated conversation, it was late... or early depending on how you look at it. I was feeling my age and headed for bed while sleeping beauty stayed up through the night. Hopefully he slept on the plane. I got him to the airport by 7:00 and made it back to the home office in time for back to back conference calls that basically filled my morning. I have this overwhelming wave of sadness washing over me at the moment and I just want the day to pass as quickly as possible so I can sleep. These days, not being awake is the best thing I have to look forward to... that and waking up with Henry snuggled up against me.

The pets have had their breakfast. Sean is still asleep. The house is quiet and I'm still coming out of sleep. Guy Forsyth, as he usually does, performed a great show last night. I wept in the shadows during a few heartfelt lovesongs, but overall I was in good spirits the rest of the time. I didn't drink too much and tried to stay engaged in conversation. I was already weary from the too little sleep I've been getting recently, but all the effort to act normal in public wears me down. By the end of the evening, I was so exhausted I couldn't think of much but sleep or the promise of it. My life without EL is very difficult to explain. There is so much time throughout my waking moments where I feel completely disconnected... like I'm reaching for something that I can't see to grasp. Even my memories of her are moving targets. When I see her things in the house, I know somewhere inside my mind that those are my wife's things and what that means to see them, but it is far away behind a wall, inside a room, and muffled. It's is far enough away that I have time to shift my thoughts to something else before the gravity takes hold and I'm trapped. I feel a little guilty for dealing with some of this in that fashion, but reconcile my guilt by acknowledging it's there for me to deal with someday and I can't run forever. Maybe I'm just justifying. I miss her so much. I have come to realize that it isn't just her I miss, but I miss being loved by her, being the man in her life, being her husband. All those things will sculpt a man into something greater than he is as a singularity. Naysayers may never understand, but to be the shining light in a woman's life and to give that love in return is one of the greatest gifts we can experience here. It is living that only in memory that contributes to my depression. I believe my wife is happy and safe with God. I selfishly want her, but know she is better with Him than I. Having everything a man could wish for in a lifetime, then losing it in an instant, leaves me to wonder how mending is possible much less how to accomplish it. Patience and time. It just hurts so much.

"I'm about to come at you like a spider monkey." Dinner last night was fabulous. Between the 7 finger pork chop, delicious libations, and tableside flambé deserts, I was ready for the siesta. We stayed up for a little bit when we got to the house, but my consciousness seemed fleeting. Ironically, I didn't sleep through the night yet again. I was up at 2:30 and again around 4:00. At 6:00, I went and tried to sleep on the couch thinking it may make a difference. It didn't. I'm exhausted. Sean and I met Ted at The Movie Tavern for lunch. We watched the new Will Ferrell movie... very funny stuff. When we got home after the movie I wanted to continue my DIY Mythbusters on the wine transparency argument. Drawing upon the lessons learned during the Guinness pseudo-control group, we set up a single glass of merlot on the stone table in the yard. The camera angle was low and in visible light, the curvature of the glass reflected the table, the plants upon it, the ground (and sitting on the ground)... all things lower than the glass in the horizontal plane. Without changing any positioning, I made another frame in infrared only to discover all the reflections were of things above the horizontal plane the glass sat in... the reflections were from the inside curvature of the glass on the opposite side... through the merlot. Freaky.

Visible: 100mm, f/10.0, ASA50, 1/15sec Infrared: 100mm, f/10.0, ASA50, 152sec

Lunch turned out to be a "tasty sangwich" from Blimpie... to go and eaten at my desk while working. Sufficient drugs were consumed to eradicate the headache and my afternoon was looking better. Sean called me from LAX with the unexpected and wonderful news that his flight was landing two hours earlier than I thought, so I left to work the rest of the afternoon from the home office. When letting Henry out to potty and verify the yard was squirrel free, I paused for a moment thinking about our chiminea. I pass it everyday and never think about how many cold nights were spent watching the fire while holding each other in the company of friends. Countless stories told, debates fought, and laughter shared over a bottle of wine near that simple Mexican gift from my mother and step-father. They drove down to the border and brought it back for us the year we were married. I remember EL gently scolding me and rolling her eyes when I would stuff it full of dried Cypress and nearly catch the eve of the house on fire when it erupted in flame. I remember her smile and the sparkle in her eyes dimly lit by the glowing amber coals. It is cracked and worn now, but full of memories taken for granted. It is hard to hold back the tears knowing it will never again warm her skin and my heart the same way.

more IR tinkering... 100mm, f/11, ASA3200, 6sec

Percy Shelley was born today in 1792, at Field Place, near Horsham in Sussex. I heard this poem this morning as recited by one of my favorite modern literary enthusiasts, cowboy poet laureate, and heroes of entertainment... Garrison Keillor. I thought I would share.

One Word is Too Often Profaned - Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) One word is too often profaned For me to profane it; One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair For prudence to smother; And pity from thee more dear Than that from another. I can give not what men call love; But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the heavens reject not, - The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?

I slept miserably last night. I remember waking multiple times before the light and a few more before the banshee wail of my alarm clock. My unrest triggered Henry's unrest which reminded him he was hungry for breakfast and thus prompted his badgering me to get up and provide. Sean's plane lands in eight hours. It'll be so good to have him back in the land of big chickens. He may even get down and kiss the dirt. I'll let you know. My morning was consumed by a big 'ole meeting that left a headache and a grumbling tummy. I am off to lunch just after I find some OTC meds to numb this...

I'm in a funk. I find myself avoiding things... nothing in particular, just things that I know will hurt me to deal with now. I know that it isn't healthy. I know that I need to keep trudging through this, but I just can't. I need a break from the intensity of the pain. I think that is why I booked up the weekend with all sorts of things to keep my mind busy. I just need a rest. I am exhausted all the time. I don't sleep well. I don't wake well. I am not well in general. I've never worn facial hair other than the occasional goatee brought on by a lazy weekend... or perhaps the "soul patch" that has a special place in my heart. I really dislike having a beard. It is high maintenance and uncomfortable. I don't like the way it looks... specifically on me. I want to shave it all off, but can't. I haven't been clean shaven since the week EL died and every time I look in the mirror, the face of the shell of a man before me is a reminder... so I don't forget to be respectful of her memory... to cherish it. It's a quirk I need to get through, but it stays for now. I just thought I'd clarify why I look wooly and ridiculous. So anyhoo, some years ago, I ran across a still life photograph on Photo.net depicting a table scene of red wine lit by candlelight and captured on infrared film. The thing that stood out in my memory of this shot was that the red wine rendered transparent in the infrared spectrum. I thought it would be a cool experiment to DIY Mythbusters that shot, so I went looking for a glass of red wine. As it turns out, the only red wine I have in the house are a couple bottles of Cabernet and Merlot that Erin bought shortly before her accident. I can't bring myself to open them, so I modified the experiment and substituted Guinness. Shooting with film sensitive to the infrared spectrum is quite different than shooting IR using a digital capture medium without special modifications. The main reason is because CCD and CMOS sensors are generally as sensitive to the infrared spectrum as they are to visible light, so in order to prevent IR exposure adding to the light gathered in what most people want to be a capture of the humanly registered spectrum, manufacturers add IR blocking glass or coatings to the sensor plate that attenuates the infrared wavelengths before they hit the sensor plane. The result of this attenuation is the requirement for much longer (ie. not hand-holdable) exposures when shooting infrared. You must use a filter that blocks visible wavelength and allows the higher frequency IR light to pass. The more popular filters allow "near infrared" as well because they are less expensive than the true IR filters (those that approach a 900 nanometer cutoff). One way around this is to have the attenuation glass replaced with regular glass inside the camera by a specialty chop-shop. This down sides are: it's expensive, it forever ruins your camera for anything but infrared photography, and not all cameras are capable of being modified (some manufactures sandwich the IR blocker on with glue or simply integrate it into the sensor build). In my case, I live with the long exposure for now as my interest in IR photography overall is sporadic at best. So I pour my pint of G-sauce and head for the yard. This is an experiment to see if Guinness is not as chocolaty black in infrared light, so think of these as documentary photos... not artistically composed and interestingly lit, etc. The verdict: Guinness is just as dark under the scrutiny of higher wavelength light! We can all sleep safely tonight.

100mm, f/2.8, ASA100, 26sec

100mm, f/16, ASA100, 221sec

I turned my back for an instant and those squirrels swooped in for the pirate's booty!! Where is Sir Henry the Peanut squirrel police when you need him!?

Noooooooooo!

I barely finished the little photo test before the sky opened up again. I suppose it is fitting that it constantly rain outside when it rains in my heart. Another interesting tidbit about IR photography is how lens manufacturing process can vary the result you get shooting infrared. Some lens elements are coated or infused with chemicals that alter the way light passes through the lens. Certain lenses have more of an effect on infrared passing through the elements than others. This aberration is usually identified by a center "hot spot" in IR imagery. A large percentage of the lenses I own are known to exhibit this issue and that fact largely contributes to my limited tinkering with IR in my landscape photography when I travel. This list is for Canon mount lenses only and not compiled by me personally, so I apologize in advance if inaccurate. The lenses listed under "Good" are alleged to not have the problem with hotspots in exposure due to lens element coating. The "Bad" list are those shown to exhibit the unflattering exposure gradient due to element coating. Good Canon EF-S 10-22mm f/3.5-4.5 Canon EF 17-40mm f/4 L Canon EF-S 17-85 f/4-5.6 IS USM Canon EF 24-70mm f/2.8 L Canon EF 28-135mm/3.5-5.6 IS Canon EF 28mm f/2.8 Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 MKI Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 MKII Canon EF 70-200mm f/4 L Canon EF 75-300mm f/4-5.6 IS Canon EF 135mm f/2 L Canon EF 100-400mm f/4-5.6 L IS Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro MTO 500mm f/8 Sigma 400mm f/5.6 Tamron 28-300mm XR Bad Canon EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 Canon EF 16-35mm f/2.8 L Canon EF 20mm f/2.8 Canon EF 35mm f/2 Canon EF 24-85mm f/3.5-4.5 Canon EF 28-70mm f/2.8 L Canon EF 28-105mm f/3.5-4.5 Canon EF 35-80mm f/4-5.6 Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 Canon EF 50mm f/2.5 Macro Canon EF 70-200mm f/2.8 L IS Canon EF 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6 DO Canon EF 85mm f/1.8 Tamron 17-35mm Tamron 19-35mm Tamron 70-300mm Macro Tokina 12-24mm

Another day of meaningless filler is nearing an end and night will soon fall on my empty house. I had lunch with some coworkers that I don't see often (perhaps once a month) at Jimmy G's. I'm sure I've seen it on the feeder returning from Bush Intercontinental, but the name just never registered. Maybe I lumped it in with the Landry's empire stepchild Willie G's (I am not a Landry's fan), but I didn't recognize it and know I've never been before. The food and service was quite good. I had baked oysters on the half shell and crawfish bisque for the prefeeding and an abnormally large poorboy sandwich for the main event. I ordered oyster and crawfish, but received shrimp and crawfish. I didn't really care either way. My afternoon was filled with conference calls and working on configuration assistance for one of my larger clients. Time passed at an acceptable rate I suppose. Now, with my laundry list of tasks looking light, my morning mourning is knocking on the evening door. I'll probably pour myself a drink, find a couch cushion, and avoid analysis. The last week or so has been very difficult considering the general expectation is that time will begin to reveal things becoming easier. This does not appear to be valid in my case. I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm tired of being sad.

EL and I on the glacier at the observatory

our view... millions of years of glacial flow

I cry myself to sleep almost every night. I like my pets to have cool water, so I fill plastic jugs with water and keep them in the refrigerator all the time so when I refill their dish it lowers the average temperature. I'm OCD about items in the middle of restaurant tables when you are sitting across from someone. I have to push everything to a side. I also have this weird thing with spoons left in sauce bowls... things like salsa and queso... leaving a spoon in there really bothers me for some reason. I don't enjoy eating sweets and actually can't handle eating most sweet things even in small quantity. I absolutely adore spice and love spicy foods. Viva la habanero! When I have trouble falling asleep, I rub my feet together without realizing it. A pessimist says the glass is half empty. An optimist says the glass is half full. And an engineer says its a good thing I put half of my water in a redundant glass. I set up a Flickr account the other day so I could view my friends photos. I don't plan on adding more there than the placeholders from my dust bin that are there now, but if you have a Flickr account, add me to you contacts so I can see your shots. I love viewing the photographic work of other more than that of myself. Crown Royal just came out with a new blend... XR. In 1816, Waterloo township (Ontario, Canada) was named after the site of the battle in the previous year which had ended the Napoleonic Wars in Europe. Crown Royal's long running Waterloo Distillery was closed some years ago (some say due to fire) and much of the remaining whiskey stock was moved to storage elsewhere. This new blend of Crown is allegedly the last of the Waterloo stock and hence justifying the "rare" name and retail uplift. I doubt it is any better for consumption than Special Reserve, but I intend to find out first hand (or first liver as it were). TV is not my element. I was channel surfing last night after House and ran across Rockstar:Supernova. I generally am irritated by "Reality TV", but I found it mildly entertaining. The performances were easier to watch than the American Idol potpourri and I found the critiques by the band members to be hilarious in a stereotypical rockstar response kinda way. Of course, there was Shark Week still in progress on Discovery. Discovery is almost always a winner. "time may change me, but I cant trace time..." Guy Forsyth is playing at McGonigel's Mucky Duck this Saturday. Sean is flying in for the weekend and barring unforeseen complication, I'm planning on our attendance. I am hoping to get him from the airport to meatcake before the kitchen closes on Friday. Sunday is Deftones and he flies out on Monday morning. I've tried to fill the time with activities whether I have the motivation or not to follow through... maybe this weekend won't be so sad and lonely. My father-in-law called me this morning. It was so good to hear from him. I derailed. I'm going to lunch and try to clear my head with some fresh air. I need something.

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

- Rudyard Kipling

I returned to the backyard after work and found a few dime sized or smaller critters. The compositions suck, but the real enjoyment of macro is the technical challenge. A well framed photo is icing on the cake. Now where did I put my wine?