Organs, bird, cartoon head, mutant doll, duck-billed dinosaur, body parts, shape-shifting monster caught mid-transformation. All very close, without quite getting there maybe... But isn't that the point?
Xenolithic
Tuesday, February 24, 2026
Monday, February 23, 2026
A Peculiar Experience
This happened long ago, when I was in high school. I was alone at home. I had just lain down on my bed to take an afternoon nap, so this must have happened on a weekend (or during summer vacation -- why, oh why did I not write down everything then!).
Suddenly I found myself standing in the hallway. I did not remember how I got to be there, but the oddness of the situation did not bother me so much at the time as the fact that my vision was somehow impaired (in retrospect, it was as if my brain were operating on autopilot, with the critical faculty turned down) -- I could see, but the whole environment seemed steeped in a shadowy sort of gloom.
What did I experience? Was it some unusual semi-lucid dream? "Traveling consciousness"? A partially-conscious astral projection?
Oliver Fox, a pioneering writer in occult literature of the early 20th century pertaining to lucid dreaming and astral projection, set out four stages in the journey of dream-to-full consciousness in his writings. It lists, at its base level, to put it very simply, just accepting everything in your dream unquestioningly, just as you would with any other ordinary dream, then only after waking, realizing there was something strange or odd about the dream; then the next level is where you do notice something odd, but excuse it with your dream-logic as something that could normally exist within the dream. Then, in the next level of awareness, the critical faculty comes into play, and you compare things in the dream with the waking world versions, and realize it really is odd, but still justify it somehow, using loose logic (like "It could happen!"). The last stage is a fully lucid dream -- you see something in a dream that's just absurd, realize it could not possibly happen in real life, and therefore you must be dreaming.
Sunday, February 22, 2026
Saturday, February 21, 2026
Friday, February 20, 2026
I Must Have Been Really Pissed off
to have done this to my hand. Most likely I punched a wall in anger/frustration.
Luckily though, nothing seems to have been broken. Supposedly it happened in 2022, but as is so often the case with these things, I have no memory at all of this injury or what led up to it.
Related post: Speaking Of Knives
Thursday, February 19, 2026
Wednesday, February 18, 2026
Tuesday, February 17, 2026
Monday, February 16, 2026
Errant Broom
Somewhere out there there's a witch who's lost her broom. Can witches fly without brooms? I do recall some flew to the Sabbath riding on the back of goats, but I don't know if that was standard practice.
Gloves Set Out To Dry
outside a fried chicken place.
I could be overthinking it, but this could be a subtle form of rodomontade: "See, we run a hygenic joint here -- we always wear gloves when handling our chicken!"
Or maybe I AM overthinking it.
Sunday, February 15, 2026
Plugged
Made me think of medical illustrations -- like cross sections showing foreign objects embedded in tissue, for example.
One In Every Class
That one clown that just has to stand out from the bunch.
Be it a curly tree in a parkful of arrow-straight trees
Saturday, February 14, 2026
Yet Another Mirror In An Absurd Setting
Unlike most other out-of-place mirrors, this one looked classy and expensive. That lacquer frame with mother-of-pearl inlay surely must have cost its original owner a considerable sum. It actually looks like there might be an interesting backstory to its present unusual circumstance -- perhaps one that involves a misfortunate Victorian-style romance between star-crossed lovers that led to some tragic incident and the mirror becoming haunted (which could explain why it's placed behind the banister -- to keep it "behind bars")...? Ooh!
Friday, February 13, 2026
Thursday, February 12, 2026
Meat
hanging in a restaurant window. I understand about dry-aging, but I wished they'd chosen a more visually appealing way to show it off somehow. This particiular display didn't look appetizing so much as zombie-eaten. And I'm not sure about the sun exposure.
Wednesday, February 11, 2026
For Once,
an image of aloneness that is actually kind of humorous. At least, it so seems to my eyes. But as to why it should seem humorous, I'm not sure. Maybe it's the mural in the back? But I think the image would still be... well, let's say not lacking in some mysterious kind of humor even without the mural. Hah, "mysterious humor"! Good one.
Maybe it's because the lone figure here somehow manages to convey a feeling not of loneliness so much as of... aloofness(?), as if alone by conscious choice...
(Click to enlarge)
Tuesday, February 10, 2026
Monday, February 9, 2026
Sunday, February 8, 2026
Anonymous Chunk Of Ice
Thanks to the streak of subzero temps it's survived on the sidewalk long enough to be immortalized by moi^


























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