While I was driving north to Oregon last August I started taking pictures of my rear view mirror and the side view mirror to kill time and see if I could see anything interesting in them.

So I have a lot of pictures that look like this,

and this,

Last night I rewatched the Jarmusch movie Broken Flowers and remembered what I had seen back when I first saw it in Oregon (by the way, there’s a great little short on the DVD of the slates of the shots, it’s strangely funny despite being nothing but quick clips of a slate).

There’s a running motif in the movie of using the image from the sideview mirrors that is nearly identical to what I was doing before I saw the movie. Here’s a capture,

My whole life has been filled with moments of insight that take place a year or so after someone else has had them and captalized on them and, quite frankly, I’m just a little sick of it.

What the hell is wrong with my consciousness that I can’t plug into the universe just a bit sooner. Nooooo…I’ve got to wait for everyone else to do it first so I can run behind like the cultural world’s little brother yelling about how I can play too.

Frustrating to be ever so close but never far enough ahead.