This is my mailbox. It takes a very small key to open the small lock.
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I try to live in a state of gratitude. When one is regularly incapacitated by circumstances beyond one’s control, it is a path toward enlightenment vs. madness. Admittedly though, they can look rather similar. In my efforts toward this goal, there are moments when the ordinary, objects taken for granted in everyday life, will suddenly strike me as extraordinary, as beautiful even in their humble natures.

A million times I have seen or passed the subjects in these photos, yet it was only recently on a semi-frequent 4 a.m. excursion, far beyond night, a good piece before dawn, that it struck me to photograph them. Perhaps because there were no people about to judge my actions, to wonder why someone would bother to photograph such mundane objects. But they aren’t mundane. They are tiny pieces of my life. Even more, they are fragments of history and bygone eras: relics, anachronisms, proof…of existence. Each scratch or mar only adds to the art; a scared person finds peace through treasuring that. Catharsis.

Nothing had to be.

I love to think of the interconnections of quantum mechanics and astrophysics; to live inside strange wonders like every time we look at the stars, we are actually looking back into time. This is a simple fact, but for a human mind, it is often difficult to grasp and therefore a powerful reminder of just how little we truly understand, of how fragile and illusory our existence is. When I feel especially spiritually connected, I've gotten the sense or message that the most important things occur when we’re barely paying attention. A child, after all, cannot understand the miracle they are while their caretakers gaze upon them with profoundly affectionate smiles. Other times I wonder if we are simply afraid of how meaningful everything really could be?

What I do is perhaps nonsense, these photos are admittedly nothing much, but they are important to me, a way of giving thanks and rebelling against futility, against the meaninglessness insisted upon by modern culture, against the exhausting everyday struggles we face. It can be painful to open one’s self up so much, but there can be no chance of magnificence without it. Really though, I don’t have a choice; I must fight not to view things this way. To me, the visions, the thoughts, are so obvious. How could one not feel it? But maybe not all of us are meant to be gifted in such ways, to be so vulnerable, maybe it is enough that a few stand as reminders.

In the odd hours,
Within the odd thoughts,
Fragmented and quiet,
I draw breath,
I exist,
And everything lives.

IDOL HANDS
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I'm going to add the rest of this set to my Flickr account as I get a chance.

I don't know if any of the others are worth adding to Deviant, but if you'd like to use anything from Flickr, just ask.

If you do choose to use something, give me credit and I'd love it if you sent a note.

I'm happy to pimp, as you can see by my Shoutboard and LiveJournal.
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Other stock images for use:

Stock - Hero or Villain
Crimes Against Humanity
Looks Could Kill
Basement Stock - Red Power Box
Basement Stock - Death Window
Idol Hands - Caution
Basement Stock - Crouch
Idol Hands - Big Bang
The Portal
Stock - Kaleidoscope of Keys
Stock - Trilingual "I Voted"