Monday, October 31, 2005

Relic


Relic
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Forget all rules, forget all restrictions, as to taste, as to what ought to be said, write for the pleasure of it -- whether slowly or fast -- every form of resistance to a complete release should be abandoned.
~ William Carlos Williams, in New Directions in Prose and Poetry, No. 1 (1936). How to Write

Hiltscher Park Trail Fullerton

Shed


Shed
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
The condition of being forgiven is self-abandonment. The proud man prefers self-reproach, however painful - because the reproached self isn't abandoned; it remains intact.
Aldous Huxley +

Hiltscher Park Trail Fullerton

Sunday, October 30, 2005

The poet stayed awake thinking:

If Loki and Brier rabbit had a child who would it be?

Thursday, October 27, 2005

The best minds of our generation:

I am going to open up a coin operated think tank

A new sports team?


A new sports team?
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
He went out by the open porch and down the gravel path under the trees, hearing the cries of voices and crack of sticks from the playfield. The lions couchant on the pillars as he passed out through the gate; toothless terrors. Still I will help him in his fight. Mulligan will dub me a new name: the bullockbefriending bard.
James Joyce Ulysses

Cutting Art from the School System

Are they trying to say that Graffiti is what spreads crime and drugs?

Six Word Story:
Cutting Art from the School System.

"But when the restraining influence of the school was at a distance I began to hunger again for wild sensations, for the escape which those chronicles of disorder alone seemed to offer me. The mimic warfare of the evening became at last as wearisome to me as the routine of school in the morning because I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad." (from Dubliners)
James Joyce

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Trail Head


Trail Head
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Yesterday I laced up my hiking boots and took a long walk down Two of my city's trails. I was out on the trail for about 2 1 / 2 hours and had a great time. I took tons of pictures and had tons of photo glitches. Must everything that I wanted to take a picture of was directly in front of the sun. The trail has a lot of over grown and was often way to dark to take hand held pictures. I also was limited by the lack of zoom on my lens.

I did have fun and plan on going back out as soon as possible.

Here are some of the pictures I took: There are more-- Just click on a picture to go to Flickr and see the rest.

Hiltscher Park
Fullerton

Dogs on the lam


Dogs on the lam
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Large dogs are always welcome. The small dogs do not seem to last long.
===============================

So we turned into Barney Kiernan's and there sure enough was the citizen up in the corner having a great confab with himself and that bloody mangy mongrel, Garryowen, and he waiting for what the sky would drop in the way of drink.
-- There he is, says I, in his gloryhole, with his cruiskeen lawn and his load of papers, working for the cause.
The bloody mongrel let a grouse out of him would give you the creeps. Be a corporal work of mercy if someone would take the life of that bloody dog. I'm told for a fact he ate a good part of the breeches off a constabulary man in Santry that came round one time with a blue paper about a licence.
James Joyce Ulysses


Hiltscher Park Trail Fullerton

Pull up a chair


Pull up a chair
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Found these chairs on the side of the trail. Looks like a nice place to hang out and enjoy the peace and tranquility.
Juanita Cooke Greenbelt & Trail
--------=----------=-----------=---------

-- Sit down or by the law Harry I'll knock you down.

Walter squints vainly for a chair.

-- He has nothing to sit down on, sir.

-- He has nowhere to put it, you mug. Bring in our Chippendale chair. Would you like a bite of something? None of your damned lawdeedaw air here; the rich of a rasher fried with a herring? Sure? So much the better. We have nothing in the house but backache pills.
James Joyce Ulysses

Wait


Wait
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Some nice person left a arrow as a perch for Tweety bird. I wonder if they have a second arrow ready for her return?

Pause


Pause
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
“Going to the woods is going home, for I suppose we came from the woods originally.”
-John Muir

“The Garden of Weeden”


“The Garden of Weeden”
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Where the Juanita Cooke Greenbelt & Trail and the Hiltscher Park Trail collide.
A way station for dogs. Along the side of the trail we come across a garden and water spout for dogs. I believe the garden is called
“The Garden of Weeden”

solitude


solitude
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
"It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinions;
it is easy in solitude to live after your own;
but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd
keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Lost Bridge


Lost Bridge
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
“all that is not given is lost”
Found at Hiltscher Park Trail in Fullerton on a foot bridge.
A quick search on the Internet shows that everyone in the world has said this.

Dreamer


Dreamer
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
John Lennon Quote found on a Fullerton hiking trail foot bridge at
Hiltscher Park Trail

Plank


Plank
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
If love is surrender
Then whose war is it anyway?
Frou Frou

Found on foot bridge
On a Fullerton hiking trail at
Hiltscher Park Trail

Mar


Mar
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Will you mar me?
Other than the “Giving Tree” I am not sure how often a tree asks to be cut down.

Hiltscher Park Trail

Friday, October 21, 2005

X



Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
"I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience."
( William Shakespeare )

C



Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Be not dumb, obedient slaves in an army of destruction! Be heroes in an army of construction!
Helen Keller

B



Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
It is almost as if you were frantically constructing another world while the world that you live in dissolves beneath your feet, and that your survival depends on completing this construction at least one second before the old habitation collapses.
Tennessee Williams

A



Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
I am an enthusiast, but not a crank in the sense that I have some pet theories as to the proper construction of a flying machine. I wish to avail myself of all that is already known and then, if possible, add my mite to help on the future worker who will attain final success.
Wilbur Wright


Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
The whole difference between construction and creation is exactly this: that a thing constructed can only be loved after it is constructed; but a thing created is loved before it exists.
Charles Dickens

the giving tree


the giving tree
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
JL Blue thinks we should call this the "giving tree". It is such a sad and tragic poem. But, I guess I have taken a lot from this plant-- So from now on this picture will be called "the giving tree."

Linen. And sleep. Sleep and linen.

He nodded curtly at this memory and lowered his head stiffly back on to the firmly plumped up pillows and ran the back of his finely freckled hand over the folded-back linen sheet. Quite simply he was in love with linen. Clean, lightly starched, white Irish linen, pressed, folded, tucked - the words themselves were almost a litany of desire for him. In centuries nothing had obsessed him or moved him so much as linen now did. He could not for the life of him understand how he could ever have cared for anything else. Linen. And sleep. Sleep and linen.
long dark tea time of the soul-- --- Douglas Adams

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Between jobs and with out a work identity

One should never tie themselves and their identity to a job. Luckily I have never fallen to that trap. But, now after about 18 years I am officially not working and between jobs---- I can not envision my next job. I can not see myself going to work in a different place. I feel lost.

Nothing to worry about. I have a job lined up. I start several weeks of paid training next Monday and have money coming from my last job. I have a new wardrobe of business casual clothing and a fresh haircut.
(The cheep non leather vinyl shoes may kill me)

My new job will have set Monday-Friday hours. This should be a step up from my old jobs chaotic hours. But, this means I will no longer be able to take Mquest Jr. to preschool. I will be forced to miss out on all the cool things in his life that he does during the week. :(

But, I will be able to get my sleep patterns back to a more normal pattern.

Sadly- I will not get any medical benefits for the first 90 days. To keep the family insured I will have to pay for Cobra at $660 a month. :(

Overheard:

“When he finds a way to get a few years older than me I might listen to him.”

Up Up



Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.
Henry David Thoreau

End


End
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
I am passing out. O bitter ending! I'll slip away before they're up. They'll never see. Nor know. Nor miss me. And it's old and old it's sad and old it's sad and weary I go back to you, my cold father, my cold mad father, my cold mad feary father, till the near sight of the mere size of him, the moyles and moyles of it, moananoaning, makes me seasilt saltsick and I rush, my only, into your arms, I see them rising! Save me from those therrble prongs! Two more. Onetwo moremens more. So. Avelaval. My leaves have drifted from me. All. But one clings still. I'll bear it to me. To remind me of. Lff! So soft this morning, ours. Yes. Carry me along, taddy, like you done through the toy fair! If I seen him bearing down on me now under whitespread wings like he'd come from Arkangels, I sink I'd die down over his feet, humbly dumbly, only to washup. Yes, tid. There's where. First. We pass through grass behush the bush to. Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thousendsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone at last a loved a long the
James Joyce, Finnegans Wake

words



Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.

Giacomo Joyce-- James Joyce

Pizza-----Douglas Adams The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Douglas Adams. The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

She enjoyed the notion that New York was home, and that
she missed it, but in fact the only thing she really missed was
pizza. And not just any old pizza, but the sort of pizza they
brought to your door if you phoned them up and asked them to.
That was the only real pizza. Pizza that you had to go out and
sit at a table staring at red paper napkins for wasn't real
pizza however much extra pepperoni and anchovy they put on it.
London was the place she liked living in most, apart, of
course, from the pizza problem, which drove her crazy. Why
would no one deliver pizza? Why did no one understand that it
was fundamental to the whole nature of pizza that it amved at
your front door in a hot cardboard box? That you slithered it
out of greaseproof paper and ate it in folded slices in front
of the TV? What was the fundamental flaw in the stupid,
stuck-up, sluggardly English that they couldn't grasp this
simple principle? For some odd reason it was the one
frustration she could never learn simply to live with and
accept, and about once a month or so she would get very
depressed, phone a pizza restaurant, order the biggest, most
lavish pizza she could describe - pizza with an extra pizza on
it, essentially - and then, sweetly, ask them to deliver it.
"To what?"
"Deliver. Let me give you the address - "
"I don't understand. Aren't you going to come and pick it
up?"
"No. Aren't you going to deliver? My address - "
"Er, we don't do that, miss."
"Don't do what?"
"Er, deliver. . ."
"You don't deliver? Am I hearing you
correctly... ?"
Douglas Adams. The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Food For Thought


Food For Thought
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
"Signs are taken for wonders. “We would see a sign!”
The word within a word, unable to speak a word,
Swaddled with darkness."

Thomas S. Eliot

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Grave Side

FIL's service was yesterday. It was nice to see his brothers and sister together.
Yesterday-a unusual fall storm hit Southern California the rain prevented a real graveside service. We did go out into the rain and rushed through it.
The military color guards farewell salute was punctuated by a large clap of thunder. It was a rather powerful moment.
We will all miss FIL

Monday, October 10, 2005

Ten Ten Oh Five

FIL passed away this morning.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Lesson Learned- (almost learned)

When bringing a child home from preschool DO NOT take off his shoes while he is in his bed.
Sand will end up all over the place.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Sorry Gang

I have been forced to turn on word verification to cut down on automated comment spam.


Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race. Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.
James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

A Painful Case


A Painful Case
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Beyond the river he saw a goods train winding out of Kingsbridge Station, like a worm with a fiery head winding through the darkness, obstinately and laboriously. It passed slowly out of sight; but still he heard in his ears the laborious drone of the engine reiterating the syllables of her name.

He turned back the way he had come, the rhythm of the engine pounding in his ears. He began to doubt the reality of what memory told him. He halted under a tree and allowed the rhythm to die away. He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.
A Painful Case-- James Joyce

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Test Time

One last test, I know the question I know the answer. All I have to do is piss into a jar.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Two Week Notice

It seems as if everything is going nuts right now. Positive things are in the works and I hope to Blog about it when the dust settles.

Monday, October 03, 2005

View from the window of the coffee shop:

Their conversation seems to prove that when science and religion meet a fight will ensue.

Green Magic


Green Magic
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Magic
by Shel Silverstein

Sandra's seen a leprechaun
Eddie touched a troll
Laurie danced with witches once
Charlie found some goblins' gold
Donald heard a mermaid sing
Susy spied an elf
But all the magic I have known
I've had to make myself

Just some random photo of someone waiting for someone

"There is a star for Alaska... One star is for Nebraska… One star is North Dakota… One star is Minnesota… There are lots of other stars, But I forget which ones they are."
Shel Silverstein, Where The Sidewalk Ends

Ourchestra


Ourchestra
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Ourchestra
So you haven't got a drum, just beat your belly.
So I haven't got a horn - I'll just play my nose.
So we haven't any cymbals-
We'll just slap our hands together,
And though there may be orchestras
That sound a little better
With their fancy shiny instruments
That cost and awful lot-
Hey, we're making music twice as good
By playing what we've got!
shel silverstein

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Buddha meditated quietly under the tree

Six word story
Buddha meditated quietly under the tree.

In the awakened eye
Mountains and rivers
Completely disappear.
The eye of delusion
Looks out upon
Deep fog and clouds
Alone on my zazen mat
I forget the days
As they pass
The wisteria has grow
Thick over the eaves
Of my hut.

- Muso (1275-1351)

Though one sits in meditation in a particular place, the Self in him can exercise its influence far away. Though still, it moves everywhere... The Self cannot be known by anyone who desists not from unrighteous ways, controls not his senses, stills not his mind, and practices not meditation.
Voltaire

Mquest Jr- First Painting


Mquest Jr- First Painting
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
(He has never shown any desire to paint.)

If you are looking for a good read look for:
A Tour of the Darkling Plain: The Finnegans Wake Letters of Thornton Wilder and
Adaline Glasheen
----------------------------------------------------------
Six Word Story
He painted splashing carefully in circles.
-------------------------------------------------------------

Every evening at lighting up o'clock sharp and until further
notice in Feenichts Playhouse. (Bar and conveniences always
open, Diddlem Club douncestears.) Entrancings: gads, a scrab;
the quality, one large shilling. Newly billed for each wickeday
perfumance. Somndoze massinees. By arraignment, childream's
hours, expercatered. Jampots, rinsed porters, taken in token. With
nightly redistribution of parts and players by the puppetry pro-
ducer and daily dubbing of ghosters, with the benediction of the
Holy Genesius Archimimus and under the distinguished patron-
age of their Elderships the Oldens from the four coroners of
Findrias, Murias, Gorias and Falias, Messoirs the Coarbs, Clive
Sollis, Galorius Kettle, Pobiedo Lancey and Pierre Dusort,
while the Caesar-in-Chief looks. On. Sennet. As played to the
Adelphi by the Brothers Bratislavoff (Hyrcan and Haristobulus),
after humpteen dumpteen revivals. Before all the King's Hoarsers
with all the Queen's Mum. And wordloosed over seven seas
crowdblast in cellelleneteutoslavzendlatinsoundscript. In four
tubbloids. While fern may cald us until firn make cold. The Mime
of Mick, Nick and the Maggies, adopted from the Ballymooney
Bloodriddon Murther by Bluechin Blackdillain (authorways 'Big
Storey'), featuring:
Joyce FW 216.1-20

moocow


moocow
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo
His father told him that story: his father looked at him through a glass: he had a hairy face.
He was baby tuckoo. The moocow came down the road where Betty Byrne lived: she sold lemon platt.
(opening lines)
A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man
James Joyce

our cat


our cat
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
"If animals could speak the dog would be a a blundering outspoken fellow, but the cat would have the rare grace of never saying a word too much."
- Mark Twain

“the washerwomen”


“the washerwomen”
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
“the washerwomen”

How many goes is it I wonder I washed it? I know by heart the places he likes to saale, duddurty devil! Scorching my hand and starving my fa- mine to make his private linen public. Wallop it well with your battle and clean it. My wrists are wrusty rubbing the mouldaw stains. And the dneepers of wet and the gangres of sin in it!
FW 196.13-15
James Joyce

Wring out
the clothes! Wring in the dew!
FW 213.19-20
James Joyce

“Ring out the old, ring in the new”
Tennyson-- In Memorium

And when them two has had a good few there isn't much more dirty clothes to publish.
Fw 620.20
James Joyce

Macbeth


Macbeth
Originally uploaded by mquest foto.
Found in a used copy of Macbeth
Hall pass -- 6/13 Julie Kilpatrick Student of the month reception
Grade Slip-- 6/11/86 Julie Kilpatrick A-

(the binding is still tight and nothing is written in the margins-- I do not think she read it.)

Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets;
More needs she the divine than the physician.
Macbeth, 5. 1