112907, Augusta Maine

Wicked Slick roads had bus drivers pulled over. Had cars running into buses. Had me thinking the ground was wicked alive, trying to take me down.


Birds on the Old Post Office Building in Augusta Maine.


Speak Backwards
sometimes I like to
words
emphasis is placed
upon
"Is it still the
season for shooting
turkeys?"
shooting, is it
still the season
for turkey


My neighbor Derek is a mechanic. He fixed my truck at his garage on the outskirts of Augusta Maine


I have a few photos hanging in this fund-raising 8x10 art sale at Harlow Gallery in Hallowell Maine.

Augusta Maine Diptyches, 112807

Chemtrails(?) Oh.


Wicked clouds (or Sylphs?), wicked puddle.


Unpleasant things along the Rail Trail. Necessary unpleasant things. The waste water treatment plant smells. The oil depot in the woods.


Two discs I found in the lawn in front of the State Capitol yesterday. I kept the golf disc.


In Augusta Maine there are telephone pole shadows, and the earth's shadow.

Augusta Maine Diptyches, 112707

I love my pet: A paper horse.


Kennebec County Jail and the Maine Arts Commission. The Arts Commission is under investigation for giving $4,000 to lobbyists. Big deal, I see tax payer money spent in worse ways than lobbying for art. And those worse ways are considered LEGAL!


A parking light in a shopping plaza in Augusta Maine.


Building a new shopping plaza in Augusta Maine.

112607, Augusta Maine

Walked down to the Augusta Maine Arsenal. It will soon be developed by a company from N.C., using the existing structures - redevelopment, the good kind.


After walking down to the Augusta Maine Arsenal my friend Ben drove back to Portland Maine to catch a flight back to DC.

102507b, Maine

Went to Hallowell Maine to get some food at the Liberal Cup.


Saw Joe, a photographer at the Kennebec Journal, at the Liberal Cup. Played cricket (darts).

102507, Maine

Artwalking, always done with your hands behind your back. Artwalking at Colby College Museum of Art.


A landfill outside of Bangor Maine you can see from I-95. Paul Bunyon, of Bangor Maine.


A dance school above the Greyhound Station in Bangor Maine, and a view looking south in Bangor Maine.

102407, Maine

My neighbor Derek helped me get my truck home.


Showed my friend Ben from DC, what little I know of Camden / Mount Megunticook Maine.


Exodus: From the wilderness into Portland Maine, the city.


Exodus: Also.

Sightseeing Augusta Maine

My friend Ben came up from DC and we walked down to Father Curren Bridge and the old paper mill before I went to work. Betty, a reporter I work with said that she heard we walked down to the bridge on the police scanner. This town is small. People hear you think here. In Augusta Maine here.


Old Mill Park is a pretty cool place to walk to in Augusta Maine. It might be radioactive though.


Went to the Kennebec Market, a place you see in the police log in the Kennebec Journal newspaper pretty frequently. (And a great old style display of pipes.)



Then I walked to work and was inspired by Augusta Maine. There was a full, or close-to-full moon.


No Conspiracy: Satellites are sending messages to people in my neighborhood, I know it.


The moon followed me to work, I know it.


CMP: Central Maine Power.


Hollywood Hills Maine and an interpretive moon cycle.


Black Friday is so big in Augusta Maine because the strip malls are some of the most beautiful in the country.


Truckload of money, a Dead River oil tanker cha-chinging down Western Avenue. And Western Avenue Gas Station, I mean Fire Station.

Thanksgiving Day Events, Augusta Maine

The first people I saw on my way to work today were Ryan and Jake, (of Gardiner Maine) out doing some Thanksgiving Day exercises. Feast pre-gaming, waist-line maintaining, robotic-leg training with Ryan's parents' (who live in Augusta Maine) jumping-stilt-things. Rumpelstiltskins. Metal leggings.


The Healthy Segway: These things are like the healthy Segway. (I wonder what happens to a person if one of those metal pieces snaps?)


Hungry Man: I was frickin' hungry today. Nothing was open on my way to work because it was Thanksgiving. (Jerks!) I ate some chips and pretzels from the machine after I contemplated fasting for the day.
Fasting like much of the world is doing unwillingly. Trust me, I really am a thankful bastard. And chances are if you are using a computer to read this message, you should be too. Even if you're homeless in a library in Phoenix. It's warm and you got books, right?
But, I guess not so thankful as to fast today. I finally broke down and went to the Irving gas station next door and grabbed a microwave turkey dinner. It was good. And only $3.49. I bought a Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream bar too ($2.49).


Drove to work but ended up walking home. The transmission, or hopefully clutch, on my truck went out. Luckily it wasn't far from my apartment. Luckily once I got up the hill. Luckily after I just got done filling up the tank. ... ?
I began pushing my truck home. Felt silly and tired pushing my truck home in the middle of the night. Realized I looked silly and tired pushing my truck home in the middle of the night. With the help of a passer-by I was able to get my truck into a vacant lot a couple blocks from my house. I hate owning a vehicle that isn't a pair of jumping-stilt-things.

A Fondness for Augusta Maine

I have been growing fond of Maine. Which has been hard as the days grow shorter and colder. And I grow older and anxious. I respect that gull though. Flying over the parking lot of a store. A store named for the shear capacity of it's own parking lot? I respect that gull. He's looking down at me, laughing.


The herd in flight. (These gulls are way bigger than you think.)


It looks cold across the Water Street roof tops. I am thankful I walked down to Water Street last night. It was empty, nearly. But it reminded me more of a boring European town. It was nice.


A chimney of an old paper mill looms looooms over a downtown area of Augusta Maine. Evidence of a former industrious economy. Evidence of environmental damage. Evidence, like a giant push pin marking the spot on the map of an environmental investigation. (If the company didn't take the structures away what are the chances they've cleaned anything else?)


The Fairmont(?) Fire House sits at the southern end of downtown Augusta Maine's Water Street.

Meeting People in Maine

The more antennas you have the better chance you have of meeting friends in Maine.
1) I looked into online dating. It's about the same as meeting someone on a seedy strip at night, or a truck stop lot along the highway.
2) I was going to go to the camera club meeting, but I had to work.
3) I was going to go to the lecture, the opening, to see the play, the band - but I had to work. Better to have a job than a life. With no job, there can never be a life.
4) When I brush my teeth before going to sleep I imagine a woman killing herself right on the other side of my shower curtain. She disturbs me. Or do I disturb her?
5) As soon as I lie down and shut my eyes, I am awake again.
6) Copy editing is the Dickinsonian job of the dead, a grotesque infant in a cradle called Maine.
7)

Maine: Local Points of Interest

Living in Maine it appears there are a lot of sexual predators. I imagine, linked to the seemingly high population of mentally ill.
A couple days ago the Kennebec Journal ran a story about an increase in Craigslist.org prostitution in the state of Maine.
I forecast a terrible outcome.


Lobsta Roll: Damons all clear meat lobster rolls: lobster, mayo, lettuce, on a hotdog bun. Weird, good, at $10.65 more expensive than a hotdog.
I ate my first lobster roll Monday on my way to work.

Thinking About God in Maine

I forget when I stopped believing in god. It was sometime right after I got back from Afghanistan. (I was Confirmed at sea on the USS Bataan by the ship's chaplain Father Scordo.) Lately I was thinking life is a lot easier when you believe in god. You always have someone to pray to or talk to. (Because, isn't talking to yourself crazy?)
My oldest sister told me that you can see the stories of the bible and other religious book as stories of strength. Replacing the meaning of god with the idea of inner strength. I like that.
Religion also keeps us from the tormenting question, 'Why are we here?'


Soldiers in Maine marching in the armory parking lot for god and country. A life with meaning.


Does god send geese south for the winter?


St Michael Poem
-ake -ide -ike -ole -ube -ute
cake side like mole cube cute
take hide pike pole