lillian delsie boyer

this is my new neice lillian, a fourth reason i wish i went home more. she is so beautiful. also, will, mary, and libby, the other 3 reasons.
and my sis kate.

2 things.
1. yesterday i called kate to say congrats, and got her voicemail. after a strange and awkward message, i ended it wih an excited "enjoy the baby!" is it a blockbuster movie? a rented car? (return with full tank please) a twix candy bar? no josh, no. what a wierd thing to say.

2. i must say my first reaction to this picture(and i think the reason i chose to post it). is the look on marys face. correct me if im wrong, but does that face not say, "hey you, ya you, wanna buy a baby?" i think so.

oh universe....your like my interweb yoda.

"And to think that every single one of them have forks in the road of life, just up ahead, that even now swiftly approach. Adventures and choices that will take them, at least temporarily, out of sight, beyond reach, and eventually, closer to "home." Yet until then, they're so incredibly near, you have so much in common, and there are still stories to tell.

Treasure every beautiful second."

so most of you know, last year was not the best year for me. and by that i mean last year may have ben the worst of my life. and to thoes of you who were there druing that time. i hope you know what it ment to me. but besides that small group of beautiful people. i had sigur ros. a group of the most talented and inspierd artists iv ever heard.
i had to work kinda hard to repair myself, my new-found trust issues, my complete anguish over school, the plain ol'loneliness of a small, cold apartment(that i never left).
they were the soundtrack to my repairs. my peace, my solitude.

its hard to articulate(ha!), so lets just say, i would not be the person im happy to be right now, without them.

i think even for the biggest music lover/listener/"nerd", its impossible to fully understand the awesome power music has. but every once in a while you will put on that song, one you'v heard a million times. and somthings diffrent, you can feel the tingle of tears in your belly, as they work their way up. sit back close your eyes, and for a brief moment...nothing...but you and this devine power.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who NEVER YAWN or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." -Jack Kerouac

i think i have finally decided on my own street art idea. 

im kinda excited.

street art from rio

this is work from a guy named JR. thats all i know. his work is beautiful. go here for the website.

i would highly suggest going to the site and checking out his "women are heros" stuff in africa. its amazing.

this kind of work is amazing to me. our citys "graff" laws are so ridiculous, to think that this kind of work would be a nuisance to the people around it is just sad.

go here and listen to "as tall as cliffs"

it makes my skin crawl with excitment. 

the arrangements are beautiful, and so are you.

listen to "bookworm" too.

my thoughts after reading lindseys post today. btw shes a much better writer-obviously.

after spending a good part of last year burrowing, crawling...crying. i realized, that yes, every day forces are out there working against you. and they will destroy you. and yes, it happens to the best of people. inevitably you will walk around as a shell of a person, ruined. its what you do with your shell that makes all the diffrence. and removing it is a painful process.

new, unexposed skin will burn, shiver, and bruise. but you "decide to wake up" again and again. wake up and fight, not in the traditional sense of "battling the destroyer". but you fight for the people who's shells are still around them. and the best weapon you have is the thing that broke yours.

my sword is a place, love, smiles, ridiculous conversations behind a bar, caffeine, comunity.

im gett'en better at this latte art thing......

my new best friend.

i set out to write about how wonderful things have been the past few weeks. but everything i typed out didnt feel right. so...........



......i feel like this every day.

again with the post secret.

yesterday i put on an old pair of pants. i havent worn them in like 4-5 months. i reach in the pocket and "hey theres a dollar in here" not quite. it was a 50!!!!! and on it, in MY hand writing was writen "sushi" hahaha. so tonight i took my lovely friend jaime out for sushi. it was wonderful, and delicious, and fun. i just find it funny that this "secret" was on here this week.

"rosemary: well...you pulled it off.

max: yea, it went ok...

...at least no body got hurt.

rosemary: except you.

max: na.......i didnt get hurt that bad."

as much as i like the writing in his other movies. the acting in rushmore is AMAZING, i never realized.

am i.m. conversation with my friend nathan.

Joshua
come party dude

we like to party

Nathan

because I like to party?... (Talledega Nights)

Joshua

yes!!!

Nathan

wait.

Joshua

i use that word to much

Nathan

i DO like to party

Joshua

i know

Nathan

you can not use the word YES too much

just as Kerourac

Joshua

god............party.party.party!!!!!

Nathan

oh.

that

yeah. you do

Joshua

i know

Nathan

I would substitute the YES for the word Party

Joshua

i told a lady the other day that we were out of bagels at the shop b/c "we like to party?"
best conversation ever

Nathan

as in... we like to YES?

see how you confused you can get people before they catch on

Joshua

party

party i do

Nathan

see i'll come over for the yes, Party?

Joshua

now youv got it!!!!

Nathan

i like where this is going

Joshua

me too

Nathan

next we'll switch the words "Existentialism" and "Dookie"

beautiful losers. a new film. i must see.


Beautiful Losers film trailer from beautifullosersfilm on Vimeo.

so....like, 8th post in 2 days.

great lighting storm tonight. and alot of rain.....................................................................

i just went downstairs to the first floor. water was pouring in under our front door. and water was cascading(sp?) (as if i care about spelling) down the stairs into the basement. we have about 8inches of standing water. amps, drums, detergent bottles floating around, alot of stuff. under water. no good. as i was walking around getting stuff off the floor. i look over and one of the amps was plugged into the wall, with the cord resting UNDER WATER. oops.......

its a bad scene.

srry no pictures, camera phone sucks.

hahahahahahaha

alot of saying goodby this weekend. 

my friend andy is going back to afganastan on the 20th. "for the money". i worry for him. hes a very old friend(i met him at 5).  we sat around and talked about climbing trees and playing with legos over a couple beers. it was nice. andy was always this funny goofy guy, and still is. but hearing him talk about what he dose was such a escape from the guy i thought i knew. he took so much pride in it. it feels wierd to say this, but im extreamly proud of my old friend.

in chi we got to make friends with two people from austin texas. they were here for the last month. they just left. and maby its because of all the other goodbys said this week. but i was very sad to see them go.

my dear friend kayla is moving to nashville this week. we have a complicated past, but we became great friends because of it. i got to watch her grow into an amazing woman. but her leaving champaign will have a huge impact on me(even though i left a year ago). she was a part of my champaign, my past that i hold so dear to me.  i wish her all the luck in the world. and i hope her going away party(that im gonna miss) truly shows her just how much she is loved. the thought of it alone chokes me up.

and the last goodby this weekend was to champaign itself. going back and seeing all the change was a shock at first. the feeling of family is still there. but so much has changed i could not help but feel the place that was our safe-haven, our best kept secret, our own private clubhouse, my home. is gone. and im struggling to accept that. it is reduced to ghost's of memories. familiar sights that somehow lost their magic. we are now a memorial to the years that changed so many lives. walking blueprints, the "how to" of how the world shoud be, imprinted in our dna, our smiles, our memories. 

the only comfort i can find, is that here, now, on chicago avenue i have a direct influence in recreating my former home. to love as i have ben loved in the past. and to not mourn a time come and gone. because it is not gone. it is me.

somthing floats above my head. looming dark as if to be a rain cloud. and at the same time, bright and holding the potential for somthing great. 

but the fear takes hold once again. a knee jerk reaction, my animal instincs, the forseen thought of that same mistake. it seems almost ritualistic now. 

but could it be diffrent? lying on the floor. a slow melody. a euphoric haze of recovery from to much cold medicine.

somthing is diffrent. this time. but this time hasent even come yet. and that is were it all goes dark. do i enter this unknown abyss?

or should i just go out and buy a flashlight and a beer. like every saturday.