Lindsey's parents left us this afternoon following a two-day visit. We had a nice time fishing, showing them more of the sites, and devoting a lot of time simply talking. One of the last things we did was gather for a cookout at my uncle James' house. Many of my days and nights were spent in that house—it almost makes me sad that things have changed so much. I still look forward to our get-togethers there.

One of my favorite and most remembered times there happened when I was fourteen. Justin and I stayed up late to watch the end of a Rocky marathon on television. Rocky IV was the last to be shown. I had always liked boxing even though I knew hardly anything about it (just like today). It's simple, but being up late in that living room—the curtains hiding the dark, everyone else asleep upstairs—seeing Rocky avenge his best friend was "awesome." It made me want to box even more.

Watching Rocky Balboa (Rocky VI) was like revisiting memories, much more than just the one above. Plus, I like characters, plain and simple. Rocky movies are full of cheesy, dramatic ones, but characters none the less. I grew attached to them over the years and it was great to see them again. (At one point I thought Clubber Lang said something and I gasped.) I enjoy listening to Rocky's blubbering logic that always turns out to be something greatly philosophical and solid. A sentimental, nostalgic, very biased score: 10/10. A more reasonable view: 8/10.

I never thought it would be possible for one person to say two things of this magnitude in the same day.

Lindsey was sitting in the recliner, blinking furiously.

"Lindsey, what's the matter?"

"I opened my eyes too hard."

Later that night in bed she was rubbing and batting her eyes. I stared at her for about 60 seconds until she said, "My eyes are easy to open. They're slippery."

Most of the events that compose her childhood memories were contained in a spot of land far too small for even a football match. Growing up, she quickly learned that the methods of harmony were hard to find. The rocks and rivers of the remote mountains were unreachable dreams. The squawking ocean a hot nuisance. Here, in her green square she invented the peace everything beyond seemed to protest. The white stripes guarded against vandals and villains she had seen on television and in the cities. The great green tree shaded and hid her. The yard became her world. It was still, and she was safe.

She is an adult now, and the yard is gone, something else—a slab of asphalt or the concrete bed of a new and better house. But the yard still provides her with comfort though it no longer exists. There is hope that other children have green squares as nice as hers.

I will be in Dr. Chance's office in two hours. My headache hasn't gone away. I've had it for a month now with no other symptoms except for the new lump on my left eyebrow. My money is on sinus tumor.

So, last night while in bed I attempted to cheer myself up by asking Lindsey, "What do you like?" I expected to hear things like puppies and pink things. Without hesitation, however, she began her list by saying, quite seriously, "Smooth surfaces—" Of course she was unable to continue due to my thunderous laughter.

Looks best on black

I've always been a very solitary person, you know, like those oysters. I grew up in a little country place and no other kids lived very close until I was about twelve. I was born shy anyway, so I don't know if it would've made much difference. While growing up I kept to myself whenever I could, save for family times, church, and stuff like that. I painted imaginary worlds in my head, drew, played in the dirt.

I haven't changed a great deal. I'm still socially inept at times, but not so completely dunderheaded anymore—I can speak to someone without stumbling into a wall or down stairs.

Still, I'm a loner. I think taking pictures helps me a great deal. Whatever I mean to say, I can show it with a photo.

In this image I mean to say: I'm awful lonely at times. I often think about the past, and whenever I do, I miss everybody. Some things have changed so much after just a little time. Although I'm trying to teach myself to avoid missing the good things in the present, I can't help but long for the past. I miss it.

Another good reason to take pictures.

For the Utata Collections project.

I was a big Star Wars fan as a kid, so when a new series of figures began release in 1995, I jumped at them. My Star Wars addiction lasted another couple years after that. I think I have around a hundred of these figures still in the packages. I'm not sure how much they're worth. If anyone has a clue, let me know.

I'm a huge nerd. Just wait to see my banana sticker and comic book collection. Oh yeah.

My first sunset of 2007. Not bad.

Lindsey and I had spent the day leisurely. I'm presently consumed by lengthy research project and she accompanied me during an interview in the morning. The rest of the day was dedicated fishing, taking photos, and just being together.

This one was taken near my parents' house, right beside the Steel Bridge, as everyone around here calls it (guess why!). A flock of geese were coming in for a quick landing and was able to pull off the cap and snap two shots. Three to four seconds after this, they splashed down. Don't you love nature?

Large and on black recommended