I always forget about blogger.

 I always forget about blogger. Probably a good thing is to keep up posting and so forth. 

Here is a swan picture from 2022. It was not easy, as you might know, because the swan was always on the move and all the angles had to be right. Later.

 The world is a big toy. Wherever the world goes, people kick it around, and think there are many more toys at the store.

10 years. Or 8.

Long time no see. Or anything. Eight years? Well, well. I've almost forgotten about this old blog thing with google.

Everyone's life changes a lot every 10 years. I think every person is almost a another new person every 10 years. I never thought I'd be where I am now, and so forth, no doubt much like you, reading this, if anyone does read this.

thomasjardine.com is the better place to see info. I've been making poetry videos. Lots of fun.

Here is a photo because I don't know what else to say right now.

Looking for you.

What do you do when you have a great secret?
You keep it secret, right?

Eternity is a long time.

The man in the picture is not me.

He is looking for you.

People like sunsets. People like to look at sunsets together. Every sunset is a sort of dawn to other people on the other side of the earth. All we have are moments. And nice people. I certainly had to stop and take this picture.

A picture of the old Alamo in San Antonio, TX

John Keats. Death Mask. Always drop judgement from your world. Who are you to judge? Well, we all need to judge. But just to cause a ruffle: who could possibly stand up and yell, hey, this picture couldn't possibly be a poet!? Certainly looks like a poet to me. Do you look like a poet?

Beware the searchers, trust only the finders.

This is a funny "old style" picture, the static, wistful, balanced green on both sides, found as is, subtle interior window light and tiny frame on the other side of the building. An easy picture to take, but still fun.

Some people change and some people don't.

A vacation to me is to go where there are no crowds; not desolation, a few people, but never where I have to stand in line.

And when I write, I never write to belong: most people write to belong, they are belongers, they must belong, they wear t-shirts with designs, logos, ads. They "express themselves" Facebook.

A landmark in Ruidoso, NM, and I don't know the story behind the bike. But we don't often see a bike in the snow.

A bike in the snow, chained to the sidewalk, not free.

Which objects attract us is endlessly interesting. Half of beauty is order. Does anyone make the effort to see what you see? Hell, sometimes you can't give beauty away.