When I'm not at work, I spend time with my wife, read many books, try to write the kind of stuff I want to read, and stomp around old, dusty places to shoot photos I want to see.
“I’ve seen that things find their void when they search for direction.” - Federico Garcia Lorca
photos by Jay Halsey
“I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.” - Charles Bukowski
photos by Jay Halsey
“We live in a world where there is more and more information, and less and less meaning.”
― Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation
photos by Jay Halsey
“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”
― Edgar Allan Poe
photos by Jay Halsey
mosaic skull by Matthew Alexander
“I wore black because I liked it. I still do, and wearing it still means something to me. It’s still my symbol of rebellion — against a stagnant status quo, against our hypocritical houses of God, against people whose minds are closed to others’ ideas.” - Johnny Cash
photos by Jay Halsey
…with a voice such as autumn leaves scratching across blacktop. The sun dull and gray, but showing all the same. Puddles shrank, leaving black scree at their edges.
words and photos by Jay Halsey
“The people wait. Sweltering in the glare, roasting in their cars bright as beetles under the soft roar of the sun.” – Edward Abbey, The Monkey Wrench Gang
photos by Jay Halsey
Raging water, raging water
Won’t you wash my soul in Jesus
Won’t you take away the demons that have gathered round my bed
Burning fire, burning fire
All I feel as they approach me
Oh the gates of hell have opened I am now among the dead
We are those bottom feeders
Full of lies and a race of cheaters
Oh, we’re men
We are men
Sweet Mother, we’re men
Black suit stocking on my headboard and I see my demon rising
We are grinding bone upon the bone and up around my head
It walks in my true redeemer and she stares at me so coldly
Yeah so the gates of hell have opened I am now among the dead
Up in heaven learned my lesson you must work to find salvation
But old Mother Mary smiles and she looks to me and says
You may know him, you may love him, you may want to be among him
But I tell you I’m no virgin there’s room within my bed
“This country will kill you in a heartbeat and still people love it.” - Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men
photos by Jay Halsey
“On this road there are no godspoke men. They are gone and I am left and they have taken with them the world.” - Cormac McCarthy, The Road
photos by Jay Halsey
i woke up today. the Earth was dry windblown and brittle. cars in parking lots reduced to dust-covered, monochromatic shapes.
glaciers did not melt.
evaporation was the new trend.
creeks became thirsty.
rivers no longer flowed.
the great basins and reservoirs formed enormous scabs:
land bridges for emaciated minds; congregations of narrow-eyed mosquitoes lapped at delicate coffees.
robots of convention declared absolutely, “300 days of sunshine a year!” amidst a record-breaking drought.
all vermin thrived with no place left to drown. and everything was the same as yesterday.
words and photos by Jay Halsey
“It’s not money, it’s feeling—you don’t feel anything, and we feel too violently.” - Ponyboy Curtis
photos by Jay Halsey
needle eyes in the
strange cracks of a slow
yellow morning.
i’m off to destroy
everything tasteful and sane.
last night delivered more flashes of
easy bombs that never happened
and never will.
I think of you,
the man of men and mothers,
resting still and quiet
in the seams of worms and fossils
for a month now,
knowing so much more
than I do
and even more than
you did before.
curb litter fades
beneath a carbon sun,
and the slow drip
of the bathroom sink
keeps time.
the cottonwoods weep
the creeks weep
the stray cats weep,
as do the crows
and mountains,
and finally everything
weeps.
I don’t.
words and photos by Jay Halsey
“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we are reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for? …we need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.”— Franz Kafka
photos by Jay Halsey
My wife just made a joke about having a hot date at work after I complimented her looks when she arrived home.
Me: Does he have enough money to pay our bills?
Her: No. He lost his savings of 100 dollars at the horse tracks.
Turns out she’s got a student whose dad is a rancher, and let him bet his 100 bucks on the track. Kid lost it all. Lessons are learned in all ways.
words and photos by Jay Halsey