Living With a Stranger: self portrait





This blog is an extension of my A Total Solid Waste blog at: It had reached a good stopping spot to break into a new venue in  The first blog is filled with my published work from various sources and the first book of poetry, For the Love of Death: the early years, that I pulled together. I will now be moving into the second book titled Living With a Stranger: self portrait.  There will also be other art forms that have, and continue to, flesh out my life.

To begin with: a story.  You hopefully have noticed the photos above.

Once upon a time, not so very long ago it seems to me, but it was the early 70’s.  I guess we can call that the late 20th century. I fell in love with the light and darkness of the area in which I still live.  I was shooting slides when I first started trying to capture that transient place between the two.  Somehow these fell into some closet only to resurface after somebody’s death along the way.

As a child, I knew about ghosts, monsters, maybe the elementals on some level.  But I did not know about the people and things that might come from other worlds.  After I learned about them from years of stories and movies, I spent a long time looking up at those stars, and have seen l lot of interesting things: but no alien space craft.

I guess it is like looking for mushrooms or peyote buttons out in the forests and deserts of the world.  Once you stop looking, they are everywhere.  When I finally got around to digitizing this slide, I enlarged the right hand quadrant.  Huh!  It is probably just a light flare for from something behind the camera in the room.  It was taken in some tower along the line.

Still, given the talk of inter-dimensional beings these days, maybe there is a reason I feel in love with this area.  Given the way the people are moving into this area and sucking the water table dry, destroying the view with buildings, and light pollution in the name of security, I will not hold my breath in actually finding something a little more tactile in the sky, besides, this old body needs to keep the heart pumping as much oxygen around in it as possible.  The path between Malkuth and Kether is a long one.

About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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