Genes

My dad was a coach.
My dad was a Marine.
My dad fought in Korea.

My dad made a difference.
He taught kids to never give up.
To keep on trying.

My dad was a man.
He believed in God.
He believed in morality.

My dad is dead.
I am alive.
I will never give up.

Mickey King Park

Work Space

I was really poor back then.

I lived out of my car for a few days to get my bearings. I had to go. I was young, and you only live once. Right? New York. Brooklyn. It gets under your skin. There is something about that city. And there is something about moving there with nothing and knowing that anything could come true. There is something about being on the train and seeing all of that humanity. All of that culture. And know they are all doing it. Making it happen one day at a time.

I lived in a warehouse in Williamsburg. I didn't have any heat and it was a cold winter. I rented a work space and I wasn't really allowed to live there so the whole thing was sort of sneaky and adventurous. The landlord would knock on my door at 2:00 AM because he saw the lights on and wondered if anyone was there. I would have to wake up and rush to the door and act like I was in the middle of some large project and was pulling an all nighter. He knew what was up. I was really poor back then.

There was no shower, and the toilet was down the hallway. I showered at the Metropolitan gym ten blocks away. So needless to say I didn't shower every day. As I said earlier it got cold that winter. In the teens. I had plastic wrap for window pains. My dad had given me an old military sleeping bag, and that was the only thing that kept me from freezing to death that winter. Literally. I had all of my kitchen supplies in a big blue plastic Rubbermaid box. It doubled as my only piece of furniture. I could sit on it, and use it as a table. I had a hot plate in it, and ate noodles and tuna almost every meal.

Sometimes I was so broke that I walked around the block looking for change in order to get something to eat. I had such faith in my purpose and reason for being that I felt that I would always be taken care of. And I was. When I looked for change I always found it. Always enough to get by. Always enough to make it through to the next day. I was really poor back then.

I was so alive back then.

My New York Photos

Landscaping

I grew up in a house in Mississippi. A year or so ago I went by it, and the present owners had cut all of the trees down that I used to play in when I was a kid. All of the trees. The whole yard had trees. Oak trees, and pine trees. They are all gone now.

I used to climb this old Magnolia tree that my folks planted when I was around two years old. It grew like wild fire and by the time I was able to climb it, it was thirty feet high with strong thick branches. I would climb it and swing from it like a damn monkey. When I was up there I would pretend that no one could see me. That I was the look out. That I was a soldier, or lion, or something hiding. Something ferocious. It made me feel like I had a place to go that was mine.

My dad also built us a fort that went up three stories, with bunk beds and electricity in those same trees. There was even a working phone, and a cable swing that ran a hundred feet or so to another tree. It allowed me to be full of dreams. It allowed me to live in a fantasy world.

There were also some bushes that ran along the fence on the side yard that were thick and you could just disappear in them. I used to hide in there and make believe I was a hunter as I tried fruitlessly, to kill birds with my Daisy pump pellet rifle. All of this happened in those trees.

All of those trees are gone now.

Burnt Apple Pie

You can see the apple pie cooling off in the window. Your clothes are out to dry on the clothes line outside. A smooth breeze blows over the hillside and through your house and rattles the front screen door. You can hear your kids playing in the backyard. The bark of a dog off in the distance. No sounds of automobiles. No sounds of anything or anyone but people you wish to surround yourself with.

Humble. Peaceful. Your birth right. All in this simple ideal. Land. Liberty. Space. Having a secure area to raise your children and grow your vegetables. I dream of this. I dream of having enough money to afford a home with a porch with a yard. I dream of finding this ideal and making it true. Of having my little piece of Americana that I can call my own. Apple Pie. White Picket Fence and all.

I dream of an economy that pays its workers enough to afford the simple pleasures of its ancestors. This is my birth right. This is your birth right. Seize it.

Mornings

Setting elaborate traps to fill in the gaps of I want to walk on water, of I want to wake up with a smile. Hating mornings. Hating the mundane transfer of energy on an exaggerated repetitive stance. Standing in morning formation. Standing up tall and straight in uniform with your boots shined waiting for inspection. Waiting for your turn.

Waiting to find it. Looking for it everywhere. In the clouds. In other's input and output. That something that makes it all worth while for a while. Can't put it into words. Can't describe it. But when you see it, when you feel it, you know it. I see it in my baby girl's eyes. I feel it in my love for my wife. I want to be surrounded by it. Bath in it. Drink it in.

Another morning.

tick tock

Time constant. Elaborate on time. Time on my heels. Time a ticking. Clicking away the hours of productive input and output. Love thy neighbor. Love thy family. Love all around. Time is the enemy and living one moment at a time is constant, fixed and necessary. Focus. Focus on your family. On your health. On your now. It's fleeting. Hold on to it. Grab it. Don't let it get away.

Organize time. Chart it. List it. Fold it up and put it in your pocket. So you don't lose track of it. So you don't lose track of your child growing up before your eyes. So you don't lose track of your partner's needs, wishes, and desires. So you don't lose track of your needs, wishes, and desires.

Guaranteed, if you lose track of time it will lose track of you.

Time. Time. Time. Is not on your side. Yes it is.

Time. Time. Time. Is not on your side. Yes it is.