Author: Danny De La Cruz

I am photographer out of San Diego, CA I love to shoot film in all formats and post the work along with audio commentary. The Common Rule and Red House Podcasts are available on most major podcasting apps including Google Podcasts, iTunes Apple Casts, and Spotify. IG: @TheCommonRule and @RedHousePacific Twitter: @TacosyPlayas and @RedHousePacific Have a great day and enjoy your youth! -Danny

The problem with writing is the problem with anything else.

The problem with writing is the problem with anything else.

I’ve read almost 2,000 pages the past two weeks and written about 5,000 words the past seven days or so.

I write this not to brag but as a cautionary tale to consumption and creation. If what you consume and what you create are garbage, then there is no real artistic contribution to the world.

The books I’ve read the last couple of weeks are not great works of literature by any means. They are works of fantastical fiction which are meant to kill time and not exactly change your life or make one a better person for having read the works. While the books, like any decent novel, portray normal things in life like emotions and situations, there is no real zing or epiphany in the conclusion of each book. On the contrary the books leave you with an unresolved cliff hanger to ready you for purchase of the next volume. Nothing life changing for sure.

As far as writing so many words, the only real thing I have gotten good at is typing on a laptop. I’ve never really typed for extended periods of time and at first the keyboard seemed really awkward but I am starting to get the hang of it now.

The words I’ve written lately are out of frustration and despair with nothing really productive or insightful to leave any reader engaged or transformed. Maybe a little informed but nothing really transformative.

There are writers that can make a walk into a novel or the process of trying to catch a fish into a religious experience. I am not one of those writers and probably never will be.

The words I have written so far are probably not meant for mass consumption but that probably won’t stop me from publicly sharing the garbage.

I had a coach that preached that practice does not make perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. This applies to just about anything you do.

I can practice writing all the words in the world but that is never going to make me a great writer. This is a direct translation from me being a photographer.

Just because you take a thousand pictures does not in any way make you a photographer.

We have to learn properly how to convey ideas if you want to become an artist of any type. You do, in a way, have to study magic to move mountains or an X-Wing Fighter from a swamp.

And while I have known this for sometime, it has resurfaced again with my attempt to kill time by writing out my frustrations which I’d like to add has not done much to make me feel better.

I’ve written so many words but it really hasn’t done much to clear my head, or alleviate my current mental anguish if you will.

What I have is a current frustrated journal of the last few weeks in a hellish place.

Maybe once I’m out of here, look back, reflect, and process what has happened, I can take all this imperfect practice and convert it into something that can be processed by someone who could not care less about my life at the moment.

Tim Lowman

Dec 29, 2025 7:00 PM PST

I am in a strange place both literally and emotionally.

A friend died last night in a motorcycle accident and I found out about it while I’m in what is basically a glorified nursing home.

I am not stuck on writing this. I just want to be careful in the way I write because of the fear of making this about me somehow.

I’ve known Tim Lowman since 2005 while he played for a band that opened for Transfer once (I mention this to note I was not there to see his band). I caught a few more shows before there were personnel changes then eventual break up of that band. This is around the time I started taking photos while he played which then turned into proper portraits later on down the line. I mention the photos only to make the point of an artistic collaboration that lasted a long time.

While we were not exactly the bestest of friends over the last 20 years, we never really lost touch but sadly the last time I had a short conversation with him was at a show at the Whistle Stop in the Summer of 2022. I followed his posts online and meant to reach out and hang out and shoot again. But there was always time for that, right?

I’ve been through something like this before. I think maybe some of us have been through this before. A great person with so many friends and even closer family makes us feel like we might be something more like an acquaintance instead of a friend.

But he was a friend.

When I was living away from our little San Diego artist circle, he made it a point to reach out to me while I was living in Arizona.

One time while on one of his visits to Phoenix, we went out to one of my favorite low key bars. We were winding down a day of hanging out and shooting at different places.

When we arrived, we saw this amazing 1970s van parked outside the bar. Soon enough we found the owner and Tim asked if he wouldn’t mind us taking some photos using his van as a backdrop. The owner for some reason could not be happier and opened up the van to allow us to shoot inside as well shag carpet and all.

A long while back we found ourselves at the Brick by Brick (I believe) and watched this band from LA open the night. They weren’t half bad if I remember and the singer was a little adventurous. He stepped off the stage, found Tim, and jumped on him out of the blue. Seemed so surreal to me and I was just this side of sober to take photos of it unfolding.

Little moments like these are something I share with someone who I only saw occasionally but yet somehow marked a specific point in time in my life.
While grieving and mourning a friend may seem obvious to some, it was something that I struggled with the last time a friend like Tim passed.

Was I allowed to grief? If so, how much? Or not at all? Was I close enough as a friend? Certainly there were people closer to him that deserve the heavy burden of grief and loss.
Who am I to be allowed to mourn a friend I did not see for years let alone daily? Can I express this grief somehow?

What I am trying to say is that despite not having the closest friendship with Tim I am truly affected by this beautiful man’s passing much more than just some sort of John Donne explanation of a connection to all mankind. It goes a little deeper than that for sure.

I think this is what happens to a few of us who were anywhere near Tim’s aura. We all feel the terrible absence.

I think this is the true measure of a life spent being gracious and loving to all who come in contact with you. You can affect even the furthest of friends with your absence and leave a hole one never knew they’d have without your spirit on this plane.

There is tremendous void and sadness I feel with a lot of other people I’ve never met which in turn brings about some sort of alleviation from the sorrow.

Truth is if you knew Tim Lowman even in the slightest, there is no need to ask for whom that gorgeous Silvertone with the amazing tone sings for. It sings for thee.

A New Appreciation for Typing Stuff Out; A Stream of Consciousness…

I have been podcasting for so long or at least recording my thoughts on to some sort of device that it has almost become second hand.

When I drive around, I have a recorder strapped on somewhere and have experimented with a lot of different variations of recording/microphone placement in my car.

I love recording my outings to the supermarket, taco shop, or just about anywhere else.
I don’t do it because I love the sound of my voice but because I think that field recording is pretty cool.

The sounds of everyday life seem very interesting to me even if the recordings are boring to others even as it relates to me. What I mean by this is if Mick Jagger or Paul McCartney walked around all day, that might make an interesting project to some no matter how mundane the outing may be. However, that probably doesn’t work for someone like me no matter how interesting the situation. But I will continue to walk around documenting things with sound and sometimes video which is so much easier now with the small action cameras. Point is that I have relied on audio recording to take down my thoughts and prayers.

Now I find myself in a situation that even with audio recording equipment, I am unable to record myself either because there is way too much background noise or I am not able to project my voice so that it may be fit for publishing.

As a side note i do record myself a lot but only a fraction of those recordings ever make it to the internet for mass consumption. I either just store it away on a hard drive for a later use of some kind or if I do upload it, it goes to my secret podcast that very few people know about.

It’s not that I’m frustrated with not being able to record but more of an inconvenience now for when I have a thought that may warrant preservation.

That brings me to this. I have resorted to writing things down in a sort of documentarian way given my current situation.

I guess it started with me reading an entire fantasy trilogy in a few days due to me not having much to do while I convalesce in a facility that is not quite a hospital but not quite a nursing home. Something in between.

I read about 1,800 pages in about nine days. The books weren’t terribly difficult to read. Fairly easy reading in fact but time was abundant and I was motivated to not be bored out of my fucking mind. It had been a long time since I’ve read anything, let alone finished a set of books.

So with that, I guess I started writing stuff in a more prose like fashion starting with me recounting my stay here at what I call the Bella Vista Social Club.

I write down these stories of what is happening here and share them with my friends and brother. The more I wrote, the longer the messages and the more stylized and detailed the writings became.

I did want to vent but not make it sound like such a drag to my three readers. I wanted to keep it somewhat interesting and short story-like. Doing so did bring me some sort of relief from this place if not just keeping me from being bored to death.

Soon I started writing ideas for podcasts but in more of a blog type document just in case I took too long to record and forgot the details.

I have now written a few things including a short story this morning.

My typing on the laptop has gotten way better as well with a couple of quirks that l still have to work out due to the small and weird shape of the keyboard.

I forgot to count how many words I typed out this morning but time flew by and by the time I was done and read the story a few times for corrections, it was lunch time.

I really appreciated that part of the process. The fact that time just flew by without too much effort and hence why I decided to write about the writing I’ve been doing for the last couple of days. I need to kill time.

I guess I consider the stuff I type out on the laptop a bit more serious but to be honest I was able to type out my thoughts on the phone pretty well albeit not as fast and easily correctable as this.

While my grammar and punctuation may leave something to be desired, I’m okay with a stream of consciousness vibe for the moment while I figure out other things like organized thoughts.

I’ve been keeping somewhat of a journal of this place including transferring what I wrote on my phone to the Google Docs for future rearrangement into what may possibly be a short story about the last couple of months.

At the moment, I’m not ready to share the complete experiences of these last 8 weeks. I really don’t think it would be fair to many people as I have yet to really digest and come to terms with my emotions about certain situations and people. I do not want to lash out at people for doing things that may have been out of their control and there may still be more information that I need before I completely throw them under the bus. But they probably still deserve a lashing.

The short story I wrote this morning is for sure full of frustration and unprocessed emotion but it did feel great in writing that out.

Writing certainly keeps me from scrolling through too much social media since I have nothing to read at the moment. I do have my tablet and I guess I could read on the computer but it really isn’t the same is it? A book in the hand is like happiness and a warm gun.

So I guess this is a sort of call for writing. A sort of slow way to express oneself when one cannot readily speak or record speech. I wonder if this is how the monks felt. Funny.

Also thank the rock gods for noise cancelling headphones.

That’s all for now. The nurse wants to see me for a sec..