The following photos are from different days and times of Lake Superior along the North Shore.

I watch the sun rise from
distant cold moving water.

White-capped waves emerge from the horizon
and over time they will arrive at my feet

standing on the rock strewn shoreline
covered in clear ice.

I imagine staying here through the passing months
when the deep winter takes hold of this

land and my body becomes one with the
water and the earth and from this

connection I am transformed back to
my birth state when I emerged from the horizon.



When the nearest stars are observed
and the furthest ancient light is discovered
we see what became the past far removed
from the beginning.

If we remove ourselves from physical bonds
and trivial thoughts, what used to be feeling
transforms into knowing that what is felt and tasted
is no different than the first particle sent into the void.

If we allow the light and dark matter
to return back to us, to remind us
of our own beginning we see and
hear the music of energy and motion.

If we extend our imagination
and slow the waves of energy
we see infinite colors and
and the building blocks

of a concept still mystifying
the child standing in awe in the empty fields.

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An article that examines and discusses the historical origination of Quantum Mechanics from ancient Hinduism philosophy and texts – the Vedic texts.



Swimming through dark, through water, through
the concept of time that is lost when we lose hope.

Searching for what else is out there,
searching for what we think we need.

Events happen, points in life surface that
take over our focus and force a look inward.

In those moments we can find meaning,
we can find ourselves, we can find truth.


I lost years of life to false words
and shadow filling the valleys I walked within.

I turned from people, I turned from myself.


In the turbulent water marching
to the dark horizon

a strong hand reached through the
waves and left me on the shoreline.

When I awoke I hoped what I saw
was only a dream, but after the

funeral, after goodbyes and tears,
the life known previously

became a distant memory and the
path forward became a dedication,

became a quest for betterment
to live up to his image and words.

Testing out some new gear and setting up a tent in preparation for the next trip to Alaska.  Of course, being on the big lake and my need to be close to the water, I always get wet and nothing like the sun to take care of the drying.

Another beautiful fall day on the lake with constant waves crashing on the pebble and rocky shoreline. We spent hours combing for rocks to take home. In the end it usually turns into a competition for the largest agate. I am on a 3-year losing streak for that one.

Time always seems to slip by quickly and before we know it we emerge from the dream here and it is time to return home. On the last evening, we made a bonfire under the blanket of stars and paid homage to nature and all of its wonders.

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No words
No words

Sometimes word just get in the way of the image.  The image speaks everything we want to say and everything we are afraid to say, and everything we are unable to say.

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Camarón que se duerme se lo lleva la corriente.

It was one of the first sayings in Spanish that I ever learned, though, if I’m being honest, I had to write it down to remember it.  I wish I could remember the person’s name who taught me, too.  It escapes me. But not the message.  The message is clear.

Translated, the above proverb means “The sleeping shrimp goes out with the tide.”

I’ve always remembered the meaning.  The call to action, in such beautiful language that just rolls from the tongue.  It is a message that the tide is almost always against us.  Not personally, mind you, but just as a matter of nature.  The tide rises and recedes.  And as shrimp we are pulled by the forces that at times seem, well…Sometimes the forces seem to be against us personally.

The tide can be a challenge to overcome.


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In a dream
the sea stopped
calm and clear
the ocean floor
of seashells
reflecting the
morning sun
and we walked
along the shoreline
hand and hand
the last day

Senzing Zen_01Listening to Hildur Gudnadottir
as winter makes a last stand and we retreat indoors
to watch this spectacle and hear the pine trees
bending against the cabin roof.

Liquid dreams caught in rabid waves
the grayish sea with green and blue
deep undertones blends into the sky.

Seagulls and ravens aloft squint
as ice pellets materialize from misty air.

I let my mind and visions
drift upon the rolling waves

in and out of present consciousness
the music soon becomes one
with the whitecaps and what seems
chaotic, random, restrictive
becomes calming and sublime.

stripped of all I know
and all that I think I am
I fall to me knees naked
beneath the warming sun
soon too hot to touch the baking rocks
and I lie down among them.