soothing escape into happiness,
with brighter skies on brand new time.

no harsh confinement in loneliness,
or brooding storms obscuring ominous lies.

in a flash of the mind,
new awareness.
in windswept horizons of primeval terrain,
new consciousness.

like a blossom of omnipotence.
the infinity of finite time.

© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing

My Desert Island Movies

Here’s a menu of Desert Island Movies:




01 The Godfather Francis Ford Coppola
02 Lawrence of Arabia David Lean
03 Bridge on the River Kwai David Lean
04 Ben Hur William Wyler
05 Man on Fire Tony Scott
06 Shadowlands Richard Attenborough
07 The Royal Tenenbaums Wes Anderson
08 Big Fish Tim Burton
09 Saving Private Ryan Steven Spielberg
10 Stranger Than Fiction Marc Forster

Top heavy with epics and a couple you may not have even seen.

My Desert Island Books

Here are some Desert Island Books:




01 The Bible
02 The Heart of the Matter Graham Greene
03 The Sun Also Rises Ernest Hemingway
04 Samson Agonistes John Milton
05 Martin Eden Jack London
06 The Beggar Naguib Mahfouz
07 100 Years of Solitude Gabriel Garcia Marquez
08 Dune Frank Herbert
09 Mere Christianity C.S. Lewis
10 The Lord of the Rings J.R.R. Tolkien

Black & White World

A snack and a drink of water.

Putting it down on paper.

H.A. Stolz Groceries

Faces of Africa

Numbers on a Country Road

All my baby pictures are in black & white. That’s how what we saw in the viewfinder came out in the lost world of our pasts. My mind sees them in high contrast, blacks and whites and not much grey, maybe a little blurry or at least grainy. Then came Kodachrome (remember the Paul Simon song: “It give us the nice, bright colors. Give us the greens of summer.”), and the world was awash in color. And if we wanted black & white we had to buy special black & white film. Now, with digital photography, any color photograph can become black & white with a couple of simple clicks. But it doesn’t look like those old black & white photos I remember. They are all shades of grey, not the stark icons of my memory. These images are just a few examples of how I remember the black & white world.



Trajan may be the perfect headline font. It is strong, but subtle and elegant as well. It seems to connote mastery, or even supremacy. Perhaps that is because it is derived from Roman capital letters used during the reign of Trajan – one of the few rulers whose reputation has survived nineteen centuries. Every new emperor after him was honored by the Senate with the prayer felicior Augusto, melior Traiano, meaning “may he be luckier than Augustus and better than Trajan”.

The font is an old style serif typefaces designed in 1989 by Carol Twombly for Adobe. The design is based on the letterforms of capitalis monumentalis or Roman square capitals, as used for the inscription at the base of Trajan’s Column. Since lower case forms were not in use in Roman times, Trajan is an all-capitals typeface. Instead, small caps are commonly used. A number of interpretations predate Trajan, particularly Emil Rudolf Weiss’ “Weiss” of 1926, Frederic Goudy’s 1930 “Goudy Trajan,” and Warren Chappell’s “Trajanus” of 1939. There are also numerous prominent typefaces that are not revivals, but owe a very clear debt to the Trajan letterforms, most notably Hermann Zapf’s 1955 Optima.

Twombly’s cut of Trajan has become very popular, as seen in its nearly constant presence on American movies, television shows and books. For example, the font was used for the film poster of Titanic, for the credits of several films like Interview with the Vampire, the titles and captions for The West Wing and the covers of many John Grisham paperbacks. Trajan is also the official font of Columbia University, Rice University,  University of Kansas and many other institutions and political groups.

Out of the Eternal Sea

“He who was wounded by the sword and yet lived…whose fatal wound had been healed.”
– The Revelation

A stranger knocked on the front door. The little boy of almost eight could see him in the porch light.

“Well, open the door, Stephen,” Mother said as she came to the front door from the kitchen.

The boy pulled open the door, and Mother asked, “Can I help you?”

“I have to stay at your house tonight,” the man answered.

Mother started to laugh and shut the door. She was almost scared. Then she hesitated, and looked at the man again. “Come in,” she heard herself say.

“Your husband will not mind,” the stranger assured her.

“You know my husband?” Mother asked, a little relieved.

But the stranger didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped into the house. The entry light fell on his straight black hair and his chiseled features, deepened in the shadow. The little boy shied away, and then ran. “Will you show me where I can prepare for the night?” was all the stranger said.

“Of course,” Mother said. “You can stay outside in the game room. Follow me.”
She led the stranger through the kitchen to the back door. “My husband is at the church, at a committee meeting,” she said. “He should be home soon, though,” she added quickly.

“This used to be the garage,” Mother explained as she opened the door to the game room and switched on the lights, “but there was a fire and we rebuilt. The sofa over there makes into a bed. I’ll get my husband to bring you some blankets.”

She looked at the man for a response or even for a question, but got no answer. He just crossed the room and sat at the table. “If there is anything you need, come to the back,” Mother said as she closed the door behind her.

“What are you getting so upset about?” Mother asked Father after she told him about the stranger. “I thought you knew him.”

“Well I don’t know him,” Father answered. “I can’t believe you let some strange man come in and stay in the game room. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Mother confessed. “I just couldn’t tell him no. I felt like we would know what to do. Anyway, I’ve already done it.”

“I know exactly what to do,” Father started.

“Don’t,” Mother chided him. “Here are the blankets for his bed. You’re late, so he might already be asleep. And please don’t make a fuss. I’ll go ahead and put Stephen to bed.” Mother turned rapidly away from her husband and picked their son up from in front of the TV. The boy was already falling asleep as she carried him to his room.

“Don’t make a fuss,” Father mumbled, folding the blankets under his arm. “He might be asleep she says. Too bad.”

When Father was outside, he could see a light in the game room. He’s up, Father thought. I’ll give him money for a hotel or something and get him out of here.

He looked in through the window of the game room.

The stranger was kneeling in the middle of the room. The light was a dark presence around him. It was a malevolent light, one that welled up from his body. A body of blackness, radiating a dark aura. What sounded like thunder roared through the night and grew louder before subsiding altogether. The stranger convulsed violently as he struggled to answer.

“They accepted me,” he spat out in a voice that grew from everywhere like the thunder. “They cannot refuse me,” he finished as his lips writhed in pain with the words that echoed into silence.

Father dropped the blankets and stepped back, staring at the stranger. He moved with purpose then, back into the house. He clutched for a knife inside a kitchen drawer and stumbled back through the house and outside. The light was still shimmering from the game room, casting shadows with the movements of its creator. Suddenly fear grabbed Father by the throat; his resolution was crushed by it. He fell back against the door, gasping for breath.

“Let me do this thing,” he moaned.

His hand tightened on the knife. His steps strengthened as he crossed to the game room. He did not look inside. He put his shoulder against the door and the lock gave. Father could see only the stranger’s demon face. He drove the knife through the darkness of its body, the blood running blacker than the darkness. The dying presence forced Father back out of the room. Father staggered into the house to find his wife charging into the den. The knife was still clutched in his hand.

“Oh my God!” Mother screamed. Father fell to his knees. “What have you done?”

Stephen came from out of the dark hall, rubbing his eyes. “I have killed the Beast,” he heard Father say.

“You did what?” Mother couldn’t believe it. She fled past Father, drawing him and her son in her wake. Outside the blankets blew towards them in the wind.

There was still a light on in the game room. Mother rushed on, Father groaned, and Stephen hurried to catch up. They reached the door together and looked in on the stranger, who returned their stares with the distant rumble of a laugh.

© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing

Desert Island Authors

There are certain authors that strike a chord with me. Their works have probably formed my world view as much as anything, other than my faith. Strangely, only three from this list are Americans. Is that because I am drawn to things other than what I already know? Perhaps that sort of sedentary wanderlust has informed my taste in literature, but regardless, I would be perfectly happy with works from any of these authors on my desert island.

Graham Greene
Ernest Hemingway
Jack London
Joseph Conrad
C. S. Lewis
Gabriel Garcia-Marquez
J.R.R. Tolkein
Naguib Mafouz
Milan Kundera
Paul Theroux

DIR : Nick Drake

Song Time Artist Album
Northen Sky 3:46 Nick Drake Bryter Layter
One of These Things First 4:52 Nick Drake Bryter Layter
Fly 3:01 Nick Drake Bryter Layter
Poor Boy 6:09 Nick Drake Bryter Layter
Hazy Jane II 3:47 Nick Drake Bryter Layter
Hazy Jane I 4:29 Nick Drake Bryter Layter
Time Has Told Me 4:28 Nick Drake Five Leaves Left
Way to Blue 3:12 Nick Drake Five Leaves Left
Day is Done 2:30 Nick Drake Five Leaves Left
Fruit Tree 4:51 Nick Drake Five Leaves Left
Pink Moon 2:07 Nick Drake Pink Moon
Place to Be 2:43 Nick Drake Pink Moon
From the Morning 2:32 Nick Drake Pink Moon
Which Will 2:58 Nick Drake Pink Moon
Which Will 3:50 Lucinda Williams Sweet Old World
They’re Leaving Me Behind 3:17 Nick Drake Family Tree
Tomorrow is a Long Time 3:40 Nick Drake Family Tree
Milk and Honey 3:00 Nick Drake Family Tree
Bird Flew By 2:55 Nick Drake Family Tree
Strange Meeting II 4:27 Nick Drake Family Tree
20 Songs/1.2 Hours

DIR : Joe Strummer

Song Time Artist Album
Should I Stay or Should I Go 3:09 The Clash Combat Rock
Armagideon Time 3:47 The Clash The Future is Unwritten
Lost in the Supermarket 3:47 The Clash London Calling
I’m Not Down 3:06 The Clash London Calling
Train in Vain 3:08 The Clash London Calling
Up in Heaven (Not Only Here) 4:32 The Clash Sandanista!
Charlie Don’t Surf 4:54 The Clash Sandanista!
King of the Bayou 2:52 Joe Strummer Earthquake Weather
Island Hopping 2:37 Joe Strummer Earthquake Weather
Sikorsky Parts 3:36 Joe Strummer Earthquake Weather
Trash City 4:12 Joe Strummer & The Latino Rockabilly War The Future is Unwritten
Get Down Moses 5:05 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Streetcore
Ramshackle Day Parade 4:03 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Streetcore
Burning Streets (London is Burning) 4:32 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Streetcore
Midnight Jam 5:50 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Streetcore
Global a Go-Go 5:55 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Global a Go-Go
Mega Bottle Ride 3:33 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Global a Go-Go
Tony Adams 6:33 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Rock Art and the X-Ray Style
Diggin’ the New 3:08 Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros Rock Art and the X-Ray Style
Keys to Your Heart 3:39 The 101ers The Future is Unwritten

20 Songs/1.3 Hours