A community for sharing the dustbloom arts and cultural aesthetic.
Keep telling myself to pick up my guitar.
It just sits there, looking at me, asking why I don’t blare a power chord. And it’s been years since I gave it an attempt.
I do, though, have an acoustic bass right by my bed. Sometimes I play a few licks. And that’s fun.
But I really should start writing songs again.
Photo credit: artist unknown
The past is the past, and we can't have it back.
More to the point, however you feel about the present -- whether good or bad -- we wouldn't have what we have now without the past. Whatever else you might say, the past is the reason we are here.
I know the past was far from perfect. The so-called "good old days" were not good. And yet, I mourn what we lost.
I was there, at my friend's house, playing his Super Nintendo on a TV -- what we called a TV, because back then, we didn't call them CRTs. And those cartridges, those 16-bit cartridges -- at the time, they felt like the future. We didn't think about the broader world, its consequences, or what might come later. We were full of optimism, convinced that things could only get better from here.
It's not that time itself that I miss. Truth be told, my life back then was pretty miserable.
But what I do miss are the visions of a radiant future.
Train set.
I remember playing this when I was a child. Glad to see that it’s still being made. Simple, but good times.
We’ve seen better days.
Overripe banana I found at a grocery store about to be put out to pasture. This is the end.
A&W.
The Canadian fast food franchise, not the American one. Similar but different.
A hazy night.
Where you’re tired and tipsy, just want to get home, and all the lights are blaring by at you.
At a park near new condos.
This is over near the Fraser River, right in Richmond, BC, Canada. Lots of rabbits live here and they’re voracious.
River logs.
A little spot where boats park wood before they transport them further.
