So I wrote a whole post and ended up getting an error when adding a photo and in turn trying to fix it Lost the entire post... SO FUCKING ANNOYING.
Finding out this platform is very limited and as it's kinks. Sadly BMAC creators don't seem to want to fix or improve much. Thant being said I will attempt again but just start fresh. Some loose similar ideas or thoughts but not going to try and recreate.
So what is new with me? Not too much. Been struggling with depression and feeling like I am not getting done what I wanted to here or in life. Had to clear my head yesterday and along with Bud, we went on one of our walks in an old Cemetery. They seem to be nice place to reflect on things and well this one has been on our list for sometime. Rosedale is one of those old cemeteries that reviews are people complaining about upkeep and brown lawns and sinking graves. In all honesty it is the exact reason I love places such as this! I don't need the golf course Botox facelift burial grounds that so many seem to think the dead want or need. Or maybe it is them and the realization that once buried or interned most are soon forgotten and usually only visited by strangers in passing. Curiosity seekers and those , like me who actually find peace and solace in such a place. Beauty in decay.
We went over to the Angelus Rosedale Cemetery for a walk about and to visit the graves or Anna May Wong and Hattie McDaniel. Two amazing women of color who faced a lot in life and yet shined like the mother fucking sun! There is one of those fake graves (Cenotaphs) in Hollywood Forever Cemetery for Hattie McDaniel but due to us living with racism people of color where not allowed to be buried there in the 1950's. I am unsure about Anna May Wong and Asians being interned there but she passed in 1962 not that long after Hattie and well I don't know the history as well as I should regarding who was and was not allowed to be buried there. Anyhow we went and paid our respects to these two legendary woman and explored other amazing markers and crypts all the things one sees in these quite spaces. And took time to reflect.
I find I am drawn to the disregarded and toppled markers ones that show age and wear or disregard by assholes who break or topple stones chip away bits for whatever reason. I find the odd placements something to wonder about or the chaos of the layouts at times perplexing.
The graves of children and short lives gone too soon all somewhat sad yet not as this is how nature is.
I worry my time is running out all too often yet inside this old man body I still feel like that teenage punk kid who wanted to see it all, consume life with gusto like my beer and later many drugs of choice all the good and bad of it. What the fuck am I rambling on about here?
I am spending a lot of time thinking about what or how I want this part of my life to look like and be for. What to focus one and get the most pleasure and joy from. Writing more only not this steam of thought crazy in all directions chaos writing but actually something I am proud to put out there into the world. It will never be good writing, proper writing or correct. I want to produce the painting stored in my head and get them out into the world if that only means my bedroom. The garden of course because all if it is interlocked and connected. From the boots one puts on to the books one needs to devour and bad words layered out in ruins on pages and walls all of it is important and tells the story. 
Anyhow we got that one off the bucket list. Saw what we could and tried to document the little parts that make up a part of the whole.
