An afternoon writing exercise turned blog post. It’s good to practice this one. No stops allowed. Little to no word repetition. It’s fun, if you're in the right mood. Originally I was going to ask a guy from Houston, who does mostly night photography, if I could use one of the photos off his Instagram to illustrate this blog post. But once sitting with it, I didn’t feel like going through the extra trouble, and my mood was “a little pissy”… Instead, you’ll have to be guided by my own picture. It’s not from Houston, it’s from Santa Fe. It doesn’t have shiny leaf palm trees, or polished asphalt, but it has multicolored windows radiating at night. As good as it gets...

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My father died in a hospital strategically placed together with the same buildings that make out the toxic city in which you photograph houses that have differently colored neon light radiating windows shining out into the dark onto the heat and humidity polished streets blending with the green hew of streetlights fusing fading to the sound of a long outdrawn audible vibration held by a special type of cicada species living in the south that fills my nocturnal heart with waves of repeated chorus over and over and over into the night.