October 17, 2003

or, How much is too much?

Eric Porcher




I say things here in a dim and close room, that seem strange next week under fluorescent lights in the office.  The silence, space and solitude funnels me into the names of thoughts and feelings ones which are not easy, but which stand in authenticity.  


I long to create some appeal, somewhere on these pages.  I ponder the appealing site, both the photos and other content, here on the web;  

and I weigh that against the things I might desire to have said, from the perspective beyond my death, some day.


These images, these words - they can cause discomfort, boredom or other things that invite rejection.  I know - I often feel that way about them, and in those moments, almost wish these pages didn't exist.


Maybe a solution for the site,

is to put the more palatable stuff near the front, on top,

and leave the weirder, more intimate, quieter, slower stuff,

deeper, to be found if one feels their way there

in an opportune moment.


For when you've exhausted all other alternatives.



How much is 
too much





Because I don't wish to give up exploring.


Brian Eno, Drawn From Life, track 2: Persis
great weirdo music


Bonnie Rait, Silver Lining, title track
great warm-and-inspiring stuff



I want to continue exploring, feeling, finding



and I attempt to offer to you something from it

that maybe you can use?





Welcome to this world here, whatever it is.  

In my imagination, it is a good thing, you being here.

At least it's a pleasing thing to me.

I hope you find something for yourself.


Haven't I said all this somewhere?





Here's one from the Hall window, now, 10:30PM.



That's the Sikh Temple next-door




So now it looks like I'm finished thinking tonight.  Working on one or a few of a collection I took one evening in Royal Oak on my way home from work, September 8, 2003.








Still working.  It's, oh.  6:30AM.  Was exhausted at 11:30PM.  Went to bed with clothes on, thinking I might get up again in the night.  (No kids here this weekend)  Sure enough, up at about 4.


I love the night.









Here's something I scribbled at 11:30


Greetings, you who are alone.

It's not easy sometimes, is it?

For me it's a good thing, for a time.

And then sometimes I desire not to be alone.


People are great.





Sunrises are great!  Wow!

Head off in the truck!       No.    I want to finish something.






Wow!  You morning people sure get some treats!

And all the clouds are really moving too.






Yesterday we had record rainfall 
(roads washed out and water up to roofs)
and now...

No, that's enough weather for here











Ok, I think they're done, this pair.


I travel this road, the Patricia Bay Highway,

ten times each week, as multitudes of us do.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

It feels right to get off and look at it though.










                                                                                                 Highway 17, 1 & 2















I'll return to this shipyard another day.
I wandered around there with the camera
one foggy day, a few weeks ago.

Yes, the harbour is down there -
it's not visible in the picture.





Time to go back to bed!



How much is too much information?

I don't know, but on this page, there isn't enough!

But I can't delete it!

: )






Images too dark?
Life getting you down?
Set your monitor?




Next night... Saturday, October 18, 1:00AM  ok, it's the 19th.

Was uploading and finalizing this page, and thought of checking in my journal for anything I might have written the evening I took the highway pictures above.  I found this note I wrote a few minutes earlier.




To break out of the mold; to feel something.

I feel something  in these pictures.  

I cannot give you that same feeling,

but I can offer the pictures,


wish you well,



wish you well.







Swine Hall

Created October 17, 2003   Last updated September 28, 2004

2003 Eric Porcher - All rights reserved.
Dreams are requested too.