Prodigal Son Is Dead

http://www.volcom.com/flash/new_futures/0509_denim/main/main3.html

Click on the ‘Copeland-photo’ link.

Feels like one big.

Really long.

Bad Day.

I would love for someone.

To speak up.

And let everyone know its over.

————–

Anyone out there?

Not one.

The Wait.

Is so exhausting.

So I obsess.

On the brighter moments.

————-

And.

Until.

Someone chooses.

To speak up.

We have no other choice.

But.

To leave the Old.

And.

Find.

The.

New.

———–

Kill the weekend. Everyone. Everywhere.

Lately.

Its one big pattern.

Almost predictably.

From one emotive reaction.

To another.

Base.

Even caustic.

—————

And i always thought.

With the complications of age.

Would come.

The calm of wisdom.

————–

Damn.

Why not me?

Or.

Should I ask.

When?

—————

I’m turning a new leaf.

No doubt.

But Lately it just seems better.

To throw the brick.

Rather than.

Try to catch it.

—————
Kill the weekend all of you.

Valient Thorr Photographed by Gary Copeland 2009 from Gary Copeland on Vimeo.

With time.

I’m beginning to learn.

The sanctity.

Of quiet.

Not just in myself.

But. In others.

The World is so noisy.

———–
I’d rather.

Leave images.

That speak for me.

————
So.

Today.

In the biggest sense of the word.

I’m curious.

What they say to you.

About. Me.

————

I’m confident.

Without doubt.

The images will always.

Say more.

(Even) Mean more.

Than i ever.

Will.
————-

Sneak up.

Quietly.

(and)

Kill.

The weekend.

All of you.

I don’t dream much when I sleep.

Never have.

I think it’s because.

I’ve always spent so much of my day.

Dreaming.

————

I lived some of those dreams.

These past few weeks.

Traveling great distances.

By car.

And.

In mind.

————

I’m starting to think.

That.

The surreal nature.

Of my journey.

Our journey.

Only means as much.

As the connections we keep.

And the dreams.

We have.

While awake.

————

Kill your weekend.

Everyone.

G

This is a long journey.

We all take.

Together.

And.

Apart.

————–

Lately I’ve grown increasingly amazed.

How linear.

This all seems.

One path interrupted.

Another.

Quietly.

Begun.

————-

They all take us somewhere.

But. Lately.

This idea.

Destination.

Seems a little less defined.

—————

Tomorrow.

Marks the beginning.

Of.

A new Journey.

The connecting of many paths in my life.

And. Dare I say.

Even a few.

Detours.

—————

Because in some ways.

Looking back.

Those.

Have made all the difference.

—————

Kill the weekend.

All of you.

G

A lot on my mind lately.

A lot on everyone’s mind lately.

I moved into my first studio a few months ago.

I try to take walks in the neighborhood.

Seems like.

I’ve introduced myself to everyone.

Starting to feel.

Like community.

Almost.
—————–

My grandfather’s greatest contribution.

(can i call it that?)

Was his unique ability.

To create community.

Out of the most.

Unlikely of characters.

In.

The most.

Unlikely of places.

—————–

I think.

That’s what i am trying to do.

In this life.

But.

Sometimes it is so easy.

To be alone.
————-

Nothing good is easy.

Ever.

Never has been.

Never will.

————-

So I do my best.

To connect.

To create.

Community.

Moving together.

Stronger together.

Than apart.

Always.

————-

So.

To this community.

Of which i am part.

And proud.

Kill the weekend.

G

Patience.

Is.

A virtue.

I’m not so sure.

Anymore.
————-
Recently I’ve noticed.

The people who give me advice.

Who care.

About that advice.

Never say such things.

But.

The people who speak the virtues of.

Unending.

Patience.

Don’t have much.

To look forward to.
—————
Lately.

It just seems like all this waiting.

Is accelerating.

Some not so great.

Outcomes.

————–
I’m not into.

Waiting.

Anymore.

I’m determined.

To grab.

The mic.

The camera.

The pen.

The board.

(This Life)

And.

Lighting.

Shit.

Up.
————–
So.

Let’s agree.

This weekend.

Patience.

Is

Done.

————-

Kill it.

All of you.

Gary

2009. Already. In it.

There seems to be a lot of fear in the air recently.

I can see it in myself.

Much of it justified.

Much of  it not.

———————

Shooting makes it stop.

Each of us have a way out.

An Escape.

——————

There was a time when that escape was my grandparents house.

Or a punk rock show.

But that was a different time.

Long ago.

Today.

I have fear.

I went through my grandfather’s closets.

I erased 50 years.

In 4 hours.

——————

He would no longer recognize his street.

His neighborhood.

The wrong parking lots.

Seem a lot more full.

——————–

As I grow older. I realize.

That.

My grandfather must have had many fears.

But.

He never let me know it.

It was all good.

Always.

Maybe that’s what we all need now?

Control.

Over our fears.

——————-

One day.

Soon.

The fear will subside.

Collectively.

Individually.

When it does.

I will be ready.

We will be ready.

—————–

Have a killer weekend all of you.

My friends.

I’m gonna have a Budweiser.

Or few.

Gary