Why is a question that focuses blame… that looks for specific reason… in some cases a specific cause or reason can be assembled from the facts… in most situations related to people… there is not a specific why… more a series of causes left unanswered… a series of times left unfulfilled… days… months or even years of ignorance… of the other… eventually the mind wanders… but wandering is not a crime… nor is the wish to wander… nor I believe is the actual wandering… in fact in all such things related to people there is not a crime in anything they do… in most cases people are searching a place to fit in…

Passion speaks… in the words shared… in the expression of one in the art they choose to be… deep is the expression of ones soul in the paint they brush… the letters they place together… the swirling of inspiration about them… passion speaks… in the person they are… in the choices they make… in the dreams they consider bring forth into reality… the passion becomes the every day delight to witch they awaken…

Why knot is in all ways a valid answer for some one that asks why… who cares comes to mind as another value added way of responding to a question laced with a tone of accusation… butt then sarcasm is just one of the many things offered here…

He is knot dead… he is just peacefully asleep… in the middle of the road… where ever sleep catches hold of him… he just looks dead because of the tire marks… butt I assure you… he is very much alive… never mind…

Oh look there’s a dead donkey… Scarlet just loves dead donkey… what ever floats your boat says the man… butt this hear donkey is beyond reviving…

The smoldering effects linger in the air… the fire hot to the touch of ones hand… the desire for more washes over in gentle waves… a sigh escapes… acknowledging the other… two once… one… a single entity for a moment… for some time captured in a memory… simmering in the ashes… a shudder… a blink of the eye… from the flames a rise of the new day… a phoenix… a rebirth…

Substitutes… made me think of how one could put aside one idea and replace it with another one that is more delicious to the mind… that drives the heart and soul to drip with anticipation… I am a person who loves to switch the cakes around… for I believe one can have their cake and the eating of it… what is a cake for if one is not allowed to savor it… embrace its effect on your being… the substitute for one has to be better then the original… of course it could be some thing as simple as a sinsation… a tingle that runs up ones spine… that electrifies you to move in another direction due to the wonder of the feeling that spins inside you… I wonder what would happen if we took the craving and built a new one… a lust… a passion for life… that made you sweat… that made your creative juices boil to the surface and explode in a rainbow of ideas… I wonder how fast you can place a feeling within that craving that will wet your appetite for more… more time to embrace your creativity… more time to read… to write… to settle in with new and wonderful ideas… more sinsations… more desire to feel good for know reason… more passion for the dawn… more lust for the darkness of knight… more dreams to fill… more fantasies to imagine… Substitute… a feeling of passion for one of craving… one of creativity for one of craving… if you must crave… crave the endless… boundless… effortless… passion of dawn…

Color defines us… a splash across our horizon… a draw to express the ends… the middles… the beginnings… Each one an experience… the rich… deep… dark… hues to the light… transparent… invisible tones… experience the wave of color that surrounds you… the separation of the dark into its singular components… your rainbow has all the colors… all the possibilities you are willing to express in your art… in the beauty of your perspectives… each color has meaning for you… each hue delights in you a reaction… some play filled… some other… experience the colors of your rainbow as you awaken each day… let the hues dance across your mind… opening you to the possibilities… to the ever widening stretch of your imagination… experience the color as you encapsulate moments in time… as you put to rest each page of a day in the book of your life times… let the colors express hue… let the words you speak be tinged with the colors of your rainbow… let the lightness of your imagination be painted in the music of your art… in the pictures you describe… in the ones you create from the vivid colors of your imagination… let the pallet of opportunity grow as the colors and tones expand… give yourself the opportunity to succeed by experiencing the colors you delight in… cover yourself with delight… with the colors of your rainbow… the ones that define your state of peace filled being… embrace the day… the night… the life you lead with all the color your imagination can generate… let the colors of your rainbow be the definition of hue…

Impossible is a barrier to the imagination… impossible is a false restriction… the impossible wall of today is the opportunity to be different in ones approach… in ones view of the barrier placed… strategy is the willingness to go in a direction the defender refused to consider… once there the barrier falls away… the alternative view crumbled the monument to stagnant defense… nothing is impossible… it is an opportunity to be different in the ways we use… the diversity of ones mind opens the world to less of the impossibilities life and others wish to force upon us…difference… a stone often stepped over must a times be the one thrown in the face of an impossible task… are we willing participants in the search for such gems..? Are we fearless in the face of barriers that require us to jump outside the frame work..? Impossible is a word that strikes me as being on the edge of some thing new and different… the very fine line where new and different are created with each step one takes… the impossible is where the imagination takes on the wonder of doing… of experimenting with an endless supply of twists and turns… the impossible is an avenue of opportunity that requires unlike minds to conquer… unique ideas to bring that witch once was believed to be unreal into the reality of daily life…

Routines… programs the mind uses… a series of reactions… patterns followed in blind movement… it appears at times to be mindless activity… things we do each and everyday… our minds so programmed we can accomplish the tasks at hand better in an unconscious mode or manner… there is potential to be outrageous in the use of such patterns… to take what the mind does so well and place different ideas within them… pull the routine apart and reassemble its components so that all the while the mind is working on the rout9ne function of life it is also generating more ideas… more ways to live exquisitely… see the routine as a potential process for the outrageous… use the time set before you to create feelings of such intensity that each day jumps forth… that each moment is a pleasure to step into… that you look forward to the small twists and turns of the routine to see how many outrageous ideas you can come up with… if we are going to have a routine at all… they should provide the wonder of being outrageous as well as getting us up and out of bed in the morning…

A long conversation written on a short peace of paper… says it all…

A short conversation spread out over an eternity of time covering thousands of pages never seems to grasp the point completely…

The point is in the making… the rest is just the opening of the orifice… and the application of the lubricant before insertion…

Wants versus the need… we can’t always get what we want… butt if we try some times… we just might find… we get what we need… all that… and then some jazz to spice it up… time takes its sweet time to savor the best of what we have… come on in she says… strange she says… seems to want… seems to know… seems to know what she wants… confused and left to wonder… places to go from and two… a leisurely pace driven hard to a frenzy know one knows…a want… is but a wish… a need a necessity to have… to hold… to bridge the gap of ideas… to make the possibilities endless… seems are created in the fabric so we can peace them together… a little bit of hue… a little bit of the me that was once… a magical expression of purity of mind while the dirt of the moment is pushed aside sow one can see the while soft under belly wiggle a bit in the unsure… if we knew exactly what we needed our wants would be that… we never truly know until we have them…

Keep it simple stupid… Godde you must hate reading my stuff… all that mushy feel good crap… must make you want two vomit… but then I am Irish… and as any one nose the Irish believe in the saying what needs to be said with as many words as one is capable of spinning around any topic what so ever as long as it is worthy of discussion it is worthy of a voice to be heard in the darkness of an open mind awaiting the wondrous eloquence of the words one can in the blink of an eye can conjure forth from the expressive soul we all have within us a way at witch we find words scattered in letter form about and out the ways of interest sow that in time we can at a moments notice pull from the wave of our hands another… and another and soon when one word would have been the expression of the man of a few words we have woven a color filled pattern of pure wonder that lines the sides of any road… small or large… east or west we are the carries of the imagination we harbor as ships in the port during the raging storm of our confusion… comes to rest in the gentle winds of the cove that shelters us from the storm… the sea… the lands refuge calls out to walk this way or that and while we wish and dream for what we want the need gets in the way… and hammers us… until we spring forth a new bud… sown in the fabric of our life time… much of it is gibberish… until hue see the beauty in the expression… the participation in the art… of letting go… of setting your self free…

The body is a vast expanse of receptors… an ocean of senses… waiting to explore… stretching out beyond the real to the imaginary… seeking the touch that lingers in the air between… as clean as the wind that drives the air… pure… invisible…

Some thrive on the edge of the blade… on the cutting… the fiery pleasure of arresting responses… of tripping the buttons… that send rockets to glare and sights to be hold… the chop for them never comes two soon or two late… the chop is what is sought after all… what is the pleasure of the edge… if at times they miss getting cut in two..?

The hugs are special… the licks a taste of what is forbidden… the grope a knead to feel with ones finger tips the desire realized… the tingling of the outstretched arm… the anticipation of the fruit forbidden… a need… an awakening of the spirit of another time… a swirling of waters… of endless skies held in memory… of warm nights in the summers warmth wrapped tightly around a path found in the depths of ones imagination… opened finally to reveal a power full magic… that one dances with… feels within the very core of who they are… the taste of witch lingers in the air… sweet to the lips… leaving a desire for more… a craving to savor it all…

We all at times try our patience… try the patience of others… try the situations on… act the part… play the role… try… try… try… the words play out in endless repetitions… of being meaning full to reach a place we strive to get at… the process is not in the trying for to try is an indication that we are willing to accept less of ourselves… to hold back some thing… some zing… some part of us that we refuse with all that is sacred to us to give up…so we try… believing that the effort is what is important… the journey… so much we still have yet to learn… the pile of effort means little as to the result… the outcome… the experiment is a success when we do… when we are flexible enough to allow the strings to break… the bindings upon our books to burst wide open… when we are entranced enough to just explode inside out… with the magic of touch we can feel… the magic of speech we can speak… the magic of sight we can see… the magic of imagination we can dream… and from that dream create a way… our way to the climax of our desire… or we can try… and accept that we may never climb the maximum height…

A repetitious thought spoken on and over… still rings uniqueness into a day… the changes of time when reviewed in the light of what we now know alters our perspective on a thought or group of thoughts… what we once believed to be changes as we experience more… as we learn… really learn…

One communicates with all senses… with each and every movement… learn to use what is before you to convey the message that is in your heart… our actions speak as reinforcements to our words… our words an explanation of our eyes… our intent… our steps taken… our thoughts expressed in our dreams a illusion of what life can be… use the art of your hands… the art of your expression to put forth before others the meaning of your life… we communicate with our tongues… our tastes… out sense of purpose and of life… as each page is turned… we learn the small nuances of expression that help… that aid us in our journey to know more and communicate better still… using all the ways available to us… the art of the dance… the notes played on the unstrung harp… all are expressions of the magic communicated… use them all…

When it is knot possible to find your own niche… carve out one of your own…

I worry about very little… accepting of change as it happens… I ponder not the smell but the joy of filling ones home with such a diversity… a love of all things tends to do more for others… living where I do… there are a fair number of animals free to roam… the deer… raccoons… possums… the everyday squirrel and birds… hawks… then there are the occasional passers by… a vulture of some sort… a wild turkey… a bear… witch all seems so strange for a place as densely populated… the range is wide… I worry little about the smell more I like to ponder the richness of the world that surrounds me… spring time lends a hand to wonder…to open the mind to alternatives as the earth blooms from under the cold rain and snows of winter’s grip…

A place to carve upon… to leave a mark etched in the stone of time… a desire to be remembered… to find the flash of fame… to be famous for a moment… it was interesting to me that some one would send others to filter the responses they get to select for them… reminds me of the old traditions of fathers selecting the perfect suitor for their daughters… this one is acceptable to me… the niches we carve… some are within sands… that when the tides roll in we are washed away… erased by the forces of nature… quickly… completely as if we never walked there… others find ways to create within the stones of the earth surfaces images that linger for centuries… a message for future generations to gaze upon… some times those messages are held in high esteem… others are destroyed for their suggestive nature… their reminders of past times that power filled people with short sights dislike for its free thinking idealism… a place carved in the earth… in times dwindles to the earth… nature reclaims all created from her ground… it just takes time… and the earth has a multitude of time… our niche is forever in the genetics of our families… in the history of our legacy passed from generation to generation… a tree of family growth… our lessons carved upon the fabric of our children… that is our niche… famous of not… celebrated or knot… busy or knot… pity I do those so entrapped by their lives of impression they fail to leave a personal one… success is a drug as powerful as any mind altering substance… for it robs us of our other lives if we so allow it to… a place is carved each day with dawn and put to rest with sleep… the crest of the wave will wipe out a lot of who we are… unless who we are is engraved in our passion for life and passed on to those around us… rich and famous I shall never find myself being… I have no time for its forces upon my enjoyment of the time I have… I revel in the joy of being every day… this is the niche I carve… this is the lesson I write… these are the words that I place in time… in joy…

The passion of the day… begins… as dreams slip away… before dawn delights my eyes… before the fabric of night is erased… passion begins… it swirls in my sleep… as a thread of gold… bringing together the ends and the beginnings… a connection from one to the next… passion lights the torches that burn inside my mind as I sleep… as I dream… to set a way with in… to add a beacon of hope to my wishes as they spark… as they inspire me to continue…to move beyond the surface to the depths of soul beneath… passion allows me to slip in to go in joy filled wonder… to write… to paint… to dance across time in endless circles of desire… the passion begins with the awakening before the dawn of my day and settles in with me to rest as sleep catches up with me at some time when my pace can no longer keep him at bay… a race it is… at times I win… at times I am lost in the fabric of sleep… tossed and turning as words fight to find the outlet they so passionately crave… another niche is carved… another letter to the life… another mark placed upon the wall of time… the meaning of witch is yet to be known… the passion begins as my eyes close… as my dreams capture my imagination…

In the process of learning… actions are seen… the telling of the tale is in the motion one follows… experiment with change and find many avenues to use… and many will do as you have done… often we follow an off road that leads us to an end that deadens… we are amazed when others wander down the same way… doing as we have done as we scream out to go back to follow another way to do knot as we have done… it seems impossible that they follow us… are led by us… the lesson comes through… not for them as much as for us… people do as you do… not as you say… they follow the lead you place before them… the rules you make for your life… for the routine of your family… must be examples… for the words fall short… if they are left unsupported by truths in action… as much as we wish not to be as our parents… we are a lot like them… even when they told us not to do what they did we still took upon ourselves some of those very same similarities… for they showed us the way… and we were witnesses to it… we learned by watching the actions of those around us… and now as we become the leaders… the awareness of knowing that we must be examples not in words… but in actions falls upon our shoulders… each day we are reminded that people do as you do… style… dress… speech… language… slang… they do what they believe lets them fit in to the whole of society… the world calls out for uniqueness of ideas and we seem to want to follow the so called leaders… they know we will do as they do… until we decide to be the setter of trends… and stand in the wake of the flood of followers… to direct others… to become the example in life of how to live… shouldering the image of being the image others repeat… others look towards being… people do as you do… knot as you say… so if you say it… you must live it… or some day the lie of your life will come to light… and in that light you will be remembered…

Friends are a huggable commodity…embrace it… cherish the thought of the warmth exchanged in hearts and souls mingling in color… distance does not make colors fade nor does it limit the intensity of ones passion for the souls we know… hug your friends closely when you meet… embrace their lives and gifts within yours… each time you get the opportunity to touch… joy fully accept the warmth of the others message upon your life… we follow different ways… paths… the lesson of witch is that diversity is important… to the creative mind… the passion of each day swirls in the embrace of friendship… hug those who enter and exit your day… they are the balance of your life… the hands that will lift and separate you from the mass of others… they are the voices that will ring out till your ears hear them… shoulder you… stand before you… hug them each day… for the joy they bring…

Far and away… difference is the central theme… to surround myself with sameness would not an interesting day be…I suspect it is more comforting to have a lot of the same… a lot of what we are familiar with to fall back upon… the purpose then becomes lost in the familiar… what is shared is a knowledge that we all possess… an affirmation more then anything else…

The way for us is the one we are most comforted upon… knowing… is knowledge transferred… how we relate to it and use what we have acquired speaks to our heart… I am unsure how I would take such information… real or knot… the words of the passed on are not as valid to me as the words of the present… the words that can help me in this day… to me the unresolved issues should stay that way until we meet again… and then we can work it all out when we are both on the same level… so to speak…

The circle grows smaller… an ever increasing decrease of choices… I reach out to push the possibilities wider… connect to a number… few liken the response… even less stay beyond a moment or two… I have passed on the opportunity… my words will find a way to get me there… to free my soul… freedom being the choice I have taken… the plan is to roam the shore for possibilities… not so much to bather in… rather to be bathed in…

A trip of the imagination is sought after… trip me… so that I may live…

Angels exist… they rest upon our shoulders… guardians for our souls… open your mind to their voice and befriend them… talk to them in your mind and listen for the gentle sound of their voice… at times we feel their tug… their hand upon our shoulder to push or prod us in a direction… often some thing just misses us… or we avoid a situation… or fall upon an opportunity that fits us perfectly… when we listen we hear them… our guardians never sleep… nr do they rest as we do… they stand over us and watch us with true patience… the voice of reason… of peace… of balance that directs us to our way… they are our spiritual comfort… directing us to the spirit that dwells within us… they share the knowledge of the divine and how we should follow it best within the frame work of our life… grasp hold off this wealth of knowledge and listen to their soft and grace filled tones…

Humor is the skew you place on the day… humor is the language others use in ambiguous form… humor is the tendency for others to appear as one thing when actually they are completely another… the language of humor is every day language… the joy of each day can be found in allowing the humor of life to strike you…let the language and expressions of each one you meet open as many avenues of thought within your mind… sea knot only the massage they intend… butt all the other possibilities the words can generate with inn your mine…

The ambiguous nature of language allows for a multitude of possibilities… our sense can be tuned to pick up the talking points… the running on… the passing words that express a alternative idea… that generation of humor within us such that as we listen and hear the language of the every day we can be tuned to the ever increasing opportunities to smile and let the humor strike us… openly to laughter… openly to enjoy the time we have… share the skewed possibilities with others… as they are coming around to your sense of humor related to life they themselves will sea the letters form the words in mine… and suddenly what seemed so real… becomes an exercise in endless possibilities to smile… to laugh… to encourage the smiles of others…let the humor of life strike you… stoke your mind awake…and your body to jump with joy…

When ever we set out to accomplish a task… we must consider all the possibilities that can be fall such a journey… for every action there are reactions… perspectives… specific points of view that will come to our mind… as we turn our view of the word over we will fall upon a view that is short sighted… in other words the view fails to grasp the end result… in preparation for an adventure in learning or exercise in creativity… it is important to find this point… for it allows for us to be prepared for the perspective… As foreign as it seems to us… as shallow or as far fetched as it appears… it exists… just because we can see the result of our journey… of the way we are traveling does not mean that others can… that others are willing to open their minds to such an adventure within themselves… we must allow for their short sightedness… we must compensate for their inability to see beyond the limits they believe exist… this view allows us to see the limits and possibly to move them… to alter their avenue or path of sight… so that they may see… the fact that we allow for it is often the opening of the door within them… an acceptance of their point of view… for even in disagreement we can agree to see life differently… and some times that simple agreement bridges a gap… breaks a wall… opens a door… allow for another’s shortsightedness and you will move effortlessly from one adventure to another…

Listen… turn off the internal sounds and listen… without question listening is an art form to be sought after…hear what the person is saying… without filtering in what you believe of desire them to say… listen to their words… their language of movement… their body of words as they form… learn to be a great listener… seeing the hidden meaning in the language that is spoken… lend your ear silently to the one speaking… lend your ear to those around you that feel a desire… a passion to speak what is in their hearts… remain silent in mind as they speak… remain curious in focus as they unfold their tapestry of language before you… listen to every word as it is crafted… surrounded… put forth into the air of sound… sight and sense of touch… allow the words to touch you… listen to the tones they set… the ringing of each note… as it is orchestrated in their speak… learn the lesson of listening… of hearing what is said… what is in the heart of the speaker…

Each thought is a single run on sentence of mind activity… later on I may wander back over and expand on the process… typically I leave it as is… for in the rambling nature of the art is an allowance for others to add to the open ends… to complete the uncompleted thought… to color the image they create differently… the running on of the words allows me to let my mind go off on endless tangents and skews… to pierce the fabric… rip and tear… toss the letters about and settle on new images that are created… how it happens… matters less then the fact that it does…

As dawn rises… as the sun sets… the time we have is limited… by each moment we have lived… our place is a balance of use of the limited supplies the earth can grant us… from her we are enriched and supplied with shelter… food and clothing… her beauty surrounds us… nurtures us and inspires us to be who we are… the balance is to defend the process that nature uses… to hold sacred the cycles of life… the inhabitants we share the world with… the earth does not defend itself against our greed… our passion for destruction in the name of technological advancement… the earth in time heals itself… recovers… moves on… we are the borrowers of the earth… we are responsible for its shape and ability to support the future generations that are to come after us… we are the stewards of the land… the sea and the air that we use to live… balance what you do in these regards… for the earth will long survive our passing… to the dust we once were…

The moment of thought must be captured in that instant or it is lost to the four winds… left scattered in an instant of indecision… what is there is there for a second before it is gone… moved over… so that another thought can take its place… the capturing of ideas is as creative a journey as the use of these ideas… each thing we have in our lives is a concept or idea created by some one… contributed to by others… encouraged by others… built upon by others… until the contribution of many produced the perfect image of the original idea… a single captured thought produces magical results… in the open creative mind…

Life is for adventuring out… for mingling in amongst the other fellow travelers… easy it is at times to shelter ourselves from the storm and chaos of life by settling in two a routine… to nestle ourselves comfortably on the side lines… as spectator… venture forth among the others… that inhabit your space and time… listen to their songs… sing them… let the feeling of the words settle inside you… share your expressions of joy… peace… happiness with each soul you touch… each soul that touches upon you… walk out in the sun… delight in the light of the day… venture forth in the darkness of night… holding the light of your inspiration before you to light the passage way… sample the foods of thought that others are willing to share… open your world to theirs… become engaged in the words they use… the language of their art… the passion of their cultures… the music that moves them to tears of pure joy… venture out to the far stretches of your imagination… return home singing… your soul filled with new expressions inspired by the people you have met along your way…

To judge is to put forth your life to be judged… your actions to be placed before the same court of judgment as you place another’s… in a religious sense we have guideline… in the sense of the real world we have a need to consider the possibilities and decide what we shall do with our lives… we must decide and in a way judge what we will do… we can judge for ourselves what is correct and appropriate… and as a society we must have laws… outside of those… we must allow others to live in a way that best allows them the expression of their true selves… their clothes… their music… their culture… religions… these are not areas for us to pas judgment on other then to decide for ourselves… our way… our need… judge not less I be judged…

Enough of the script to follow the words inspired in action of my reading of another time and place and expressed as a desire to place words in some semblance of an idea…curious I am as to the endless circles one can create in mind as well as soul… in the hopes of reaching the end… some end… logical or knot… the best of who we are is often lost in the chaos of the situation we are witness to… enough for now… there is work to be done… so it goes…

We are who we are… when we are true to the spirit of ourselves we are at peace with the world… often we are sure we know… it is in these times when we miss… when we are off our way… certainty breeds exclusion of alternatives…

Findings one spiritual place is important… we get off track by structure… separate from it for a time and return to one that allows us the freedom to be close to the spirit… the Godde we choose… so many of us accept the Godde of our parents… questioning knot a thing… we just accept as they did the lessons… some… question and after a time find a place to call home within that initial structure… others push outside the frame work and create their own spiritual place… knowing that Godde is within… they are at home any where and every where… a specific location is not as important as a specific set of values… of lessons to live by… of kindness of heart and spirit…

One misses by knowing… then ignoring what they know… spiritual people fail to see the obvious that is before them a great deal… the application of the spirit to themselves… of doing what they themselves tell others to do… many times the lessons we send out to others are lessons we ourselves are in need of accepting within our own lives…

Women and chocolate… I have never under stood the equation… I am told rather emphatically that it is a sensual reality and that either I should get with it or just avoid the location when there is chocolate… or chocolate is called for… witch in my home seems to be on a rather cyclic set of wheels in constant exchange from one to the other one… to the next one who happens to venture in… or around the table… While I in joy a peace… a box is beyond my needs or desire… no rest until the package bottom is seen… emptied of its contents… wrappers scattered… a deep sigh of total depression… of being… indulged in decadence… of feeling aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa… yea I am totally mystified by the need…

There are for me a number of possibilities or may bees fluttering about… The progression of any art is in the practice… perfection when it occurs is strictly by accident… a combination of factors that happen to collide at some point in time… if it works in a way to inspire or bring some sort of knowing to your mind I am grateful… at times I am just responding to a thought… captured within the limits of my mind… I wish I was conscious of the weaving of these threads… unfortunately I have to trust my unconscious mind for that… when aware I screw up… when unaware I am attentive to the needs of others more acutely…

Lets take that chance and find a way to unravel the mystery of each other… lets consider our ideas… expressions… source of our wisdom that we gathered as we lived each and every day… lets wander along a road or two and see if the company suits us… today is an opportunity to consider the possibility… a hand stretched out… taken… thoughts fill the air and suddenly the day seems just that small bit different now… all for the sound of a letter… dawn is pushing her delight over the eastern sky… possibilities float endlessly with her… lets grasp hold of just one of the many that catch our eye and fill a day with discussion… within allowing the mystery of each life to unfold…lets take a chance…

Success is a yard stick of a degree… a way to measure ones achievements… the degree of ones success is centered within the limits they provide… a success to one is a starting point for another… the opportunity before us is one of connection… of sharing the time in between successes… I believe that when words fall before ones eyes that fate plays a part in such dynamics for a reason… they are written for a reason… they are seen by certain individuals for a reason… time… the seconds we allow ourselves… the avenues of our success… our art… a balancing of situations we are willing to consider as possibilities to add to our already busy agendas… I am more of a wanderer… then a planner… more of a come as you are… then a get prepared and go out… I like the gentle words of people unfolding the mystery of who they are versus the list of who they are… the list in all ways leaves out the important factors… time tells us all that we need to know and we reach a place where time becomes the currency we desire most… the success we have is measured in the time we take to in joy the wonder we have achieved else where… Maybe there is something in words… in posting words for others to fall upon and consider… maybe there is some thing to know more about… or maybe it is just two ships passing… one meandering… the other on a specific course… either way… some thing seems appropriate for me to open the door further and peek inside…

Busy we are at times… so busy that we put others in place to filter the information… we ask for an idea of compatibility… we want a range or listing from those interested…we are so busy we have not the time to sit and read… is it a wonder that we are lonely where it matters most… at the end of the day all the powers that one has in being famous or professional or success full land at ones doorstep… being so busy one has to have another filter their mail is sort of interesting when one is that busy how do they have time be alone..? at the end of the day… when they are without the trappings of famous… professional… success… when they are just who they are… they simply have no clue… of who the true connections are… what they are seeking is a true friend uninterested in the façade of success or notoriety… unfortunately what they will receive is people of like mind… who will never challenge them… to be real… for they themselves are trapped within the realm of such busy nests that they have knot the time to seek… only the time for the convenience…

If we know… then we are capable of accomplishing what we have before us… opportunity comes to mind… a teasing… a challenge to put to the test those abilities we have gained in the lessons of our life time… survival teaches us… the experiment of living each day allows us endless possibilities to twist and turn to small degrees the responses we allow ourselves to consider… the best of who we are is often left in the imagination… closed off in our mind while some program runs wild… responding to the external forces surrounding us… at times we are unsure who this person is… the button was pushed and we went off track into some wild place… and when it is over… instead of learning the process and removing the button that some other pushed we leave it there to be manipulated again and again… insanity is the belief that things will change while we do the same exact things over and over… if we change us the world must change to accommodate us… if we change our reaction they must change theirs… in truth we can only control us… our state… of being… others… well they have to deal with themselves… and it is certainly the song of the day to place the baggage of ones life on the shoulders of another… at what point do we take responsibility for our own actions… and stop the endless prattle… there arrives in every ones life a moment when they have to shoulder the yoke… feel the burden of what life is… now they can allow that to crush them… of simply find ways to make the load less…the truth is they have to do it…

What we know we have to do and what we do is often opposites… easier to fall into the routine of what we have in all ways done… then to consider the alternatives… until some one calls us out… reminds us that we have a talent for being better… a strength within that stirs… a tireless spirit of adventure that longs to be free of the responsibilities of others… yet we shoulder them… for those who refuse to accept it… and in turn we enable them… like others did to us… until we fell so deep and so low there was nothing left but a single light of hope we could cling to… we know the way… yet we follow another way… an easier road… that will lead us some place… but knot to the place we desire so deeply to be going towards… the filtering of words… of placing before us avenues or barriers to the wishes we have… so that we can vent or strike out at the world… when in reality it is us… we are the them that holds us… chained to the routine of our day… our life… stuck in the mud filled cycle of scream to scream…

People of a spiritual nature miss the spirit of their nature… for themselves… for others it is a basic element they can capture… see… feel… but for them… it is elusive… and fleeting…some thing they struggle to apply within the realm of their own life times…

That certain thing… is sought after by the imagination… the knowing that our creativity insists is there in the world around us some where… the existence of a special entity that allows for us that certain bit of thing… the tale is that it is just there… a first sight awakening… a first touch knowing… a first time crash that lingers for a life time… in truth for a few it happens in just that way… for others… it builds over time… the some thing to talk about appears to their eyes as they grow together… inspired by the attention each gives to the other… the freedom and encouragement to be that special some one… friend… lover… soul mate… a kind of loving energy that speaks to the heart of the matter…that certain thing that is sought after is a reaction we allow ourselves to have… with some one we feel open enough with… safe are the movie stars… the pen pals… the faces we see on bill boards and advertisements… we can feel the certain some thing within us stir as we look into the cold eyes of a picture…or the imagined eyes of a fantasy… forgetting that we are some ones fantasy… that we are some ones dream person… that we are some ones interest and love… that we are being dreamed of… that certain thing is within our ability to trip… within our ability to let out… to seek out the ones who are interested in the attention to the details that spark us… that awaken our desire… our passion… our lust for life in such a way as to make us drip with anticipation of the next word… they keep us on the edge… such that a single touch will full fill our every dream… we are that person to others… we are the object of their desire and affection… we are the culmination of their dreams…

I learned to be a fool… to let out that certain some thing… to spread it around so that every day I fall in love all over again… so sure I am willing to be unsure and walk in places that have many falls… many avenues of distraction… I will take the hope of the fool and place it in the hearts of each one who is willing to grasp a peace… hold on to its possibility and live life with that hope… that desire… that special some thing… that gives their day… a thing… some thing to consider within them…

I am not one song… I am many… I am not a single note but an orchestral movement… I am knot one word but a novel filled with scenes being played out effortlessly… I am not one discovery but a thousand… I am knot one day… but a life time of days molded into the present… the history of me is not of one lifetime but of a thousand life times stretched back to the awakening of time… I am knot a single entity of life but a culmination of entities… I carry with me the genetic code of my ancestors… and pass on the wonder of that to my children so they may in joy discover the endless possibilities I just touched upon… I am all the avenues ever built… exploding in all direction at once… I am endless creativity… boundless energy… desire and passion… I am everything and knot one thing… the end and the beginning… a series of beginning and of endings that are my life line to the world in witch I live each day… I am all things… I choose to consider… being…

Language while a powerful form of communication pales in comparison to actions… actions speak as screams against words that counter them… the response to any communication is the meaning… the effect of the force of ones ability to communicate to another is judged in the responses they receive… intent is a paving stone… that may lead to where you desire or to the opposite of what your heart wished… be sure enough to be unsure… watch how the combination of body… sound and heart effect the blend of your communication… remembering in all ways that others will do as you do… knot as you say… example is the model emulated… repeated… practiced…

Some thing… that special some thing… that is an undefined nothing… a word we in desperate attempt to name slips away… elusive to our minds… felt deeply in our souls… a some thing or another that provides the magic in our minds to glow… to lean in… smiling at the wonder… that know thing that is unique to the expression of what we desire… some have that for us and others lack the special ingredients… the mixture of scent… soul and heart… that blends in our imagination… that special some thing… undefined… all the while we unconsciously know exactly who fills the criteria…

Double is the edge… therapeutic the time can be… a refreshing step back away from the chaos of each day… a happy place to sort out the many avenues of opportunity… to position ourselves along our way… to take stock of the possibilities… resources… what the future holds… an affirmation of body… mind… and soul… when used in this delight… it is a magical and creative tool…

Frustrating it is… to be hue in the light of others concern and wonder… the creation of life holds so much magic… so much joy is reflected in your eyes… your being that it draws everyone in… the human need to connect… to touch… is so powerful… they reach out… total strangers at times to touch you… to connect to that magic of creation… as frustrating as it is… they are just touching the life force generating so powerfully within you… around you…

War stories come as witness to the process… it is human nature to concentrate on the down side of things… never having to experience the process in the first person… I am a poor person to say… being a witness and a partner to the joy of birth… well… the process is magical… a journey of wonder and all forgotten once you hold them in your arms… once you look into their eyes… the culmination of the bonds of love expand instantly to include this new life… all the war stories will fade in the delight of holding them… listening to their breathing… and the sound of their voice… from that moment on… you fully over stand the love a parent has… so complete… so all encompassing…

We are capable of only controlling our response… our reactions… a program runs in a pattern… and we use that pattern to achieve the desired output… a successful routine of input… output… One day the program is applied and the results are less then optimum… in this situation we are faced with conscious choice of an unconscious process… we are thrown into confusion… frustration… ahhhhh… as we apply and reapply the same data in hopes of achieving a different result… achieving only a definition of insanity… doing the same thing over and over again in the hope of getting different results… if we stop for a moment in time… step back… in a most disassociated way… and begin now to see the process as more of an experiment in communication… then a practiced routine… or strict method… our eyes widen to grasp alternatives… alternatives in language… in listening… in body movements… we notice how the words strike… how they are received… we consider all adjustments… one can say ooooo in such a way as to send shudders of what was that down your spine in a not so wonderful sense… or one can say oooo… is a way that those shudders vibrate your soul in a way that opens your mind to thoughts in a totally different direction… it all begins with a feeling… so as dawn rises up to meet you… let him… stroke your mind… your shoulders… your imagination to play…

There are many levels to the spiritual dimension… if we are lucky we touch upon two… the dream world is a level we are all familiar with… astral traveling… in a state of awareness is another… there are more… as many as we are enlightened to reach for…

I looked upon the pane… stepped into it… the crash… the splintering of the image shattered… a reflection of me scattered in all directions…the stirring of the voice… the voice of me… a hand reached out and took mine… expressions are necessary… the idol mind traps reasons… where there are none… some places people go because they wish two… and having only themselves… they wish to pull another in… old ways… patterns will play out until we change them… go left today instead of right… walk instead of ride… take the side roads… instead of the direct route… in joy the stroll in the sun… the warmth upon your hand… the artist cries out… release me… follow the lead of those kindred to your soul… biology is only the attachment to the physical you… find the ones that make your imagination grow… that encourage the other hue… for in the end… the ones who matter are those that make you feel worthy of living each and every day…

To be we must also allow others to be… to have the freedom we desire we must in all ways allow those who wish to share in that freedom… to provide for them an avenue of encouragement to be the artist they are… my talents fall along many avenues… the less I try… to define them… the more they are apparent to me… the way the words flow has a direct relationship to the words sent to me… a bouncing back and forth within a conversation… a song for today… words by the bee gees… for they are all we ever have in letters… in conversations across time and space… we plant seeds in the words and surround them with the energy to grow… and we stretch them out to another… we hope that they set them free… free to float along the avenues of their dreams… maybe a word will spark a response or trip their imagination in a most fantastic way… as th4e artist grows they rekindle the inspiration within… and it flows out… to rest in others… as our pallet grows… sow two the seeds we plant in endless colors… soon the spring time air will warm and the snows of yesterday will melt away to reveal all the wonder that was resting beneath… and we will sit in awe of natures beauty once more… and for a moment we will see the same within ourselves… as we blossom forth… as our art… comes to delight in each day…

A moment captured… a complete awareness of another’s present… of another’s warmth about us… we sense them… capture the scent of them upon the wind… our minds aware of the touch upon our skin… in an instant the world spins slowly… enough for us to step in between the seconds of clock time… to drift up to another plain…another avenue… another level of consciousness… wrapped in the moment we close our eyes… letting go the final threads of reality… to dance in this moment of time… to let go… to feel the free drums beat in our hearts… to swim… to dive… to plunge… to feel the fires of passion… and desire… to walk slowly the path that pulls us… our artistry working its magic… words and pictures… awakened…

Made a statement in response to some words sent to me… silence incurs… the message being..? Imagine if you will a question that when answered quiets the questioner..? Is the point well taken or has the point fallen upon deaf ears..? I take it to mean… what silence in all ways means to me… I used to get really upset at silence… it hurt… bothered me… I felt I did some thing wrong to incur its bite… came to find out that most of the time… there was nothing the recipient wanted to say… they were content to have said their peace and leave it at that…so it goes… I am content to leave it as it is…

The point is taken and manipulated to get the best for both… the one pointed at as well as the one pointing… a balance of the give and the take… a lesson to learn and to teach…

Silence is a sword… double edged… it pierces the realm around one… opening them to questions… that fall in cascades of thought… the mind open to the many without answer… a response would soothe… there is the silence of words not needed… the perfect moment when one is at peace… and then there is the silence of disagreement… or of anger… when words need to be spoken… when compromise is longed for… silence in my world is a tool used to punish… except for the times one uses silence to clear ones mind and cultivate new and interesting thought…

The touch of a scent…upon ones nose… response… turns heads to see with closed eyes the image of the imagination come to life… busy we are in the daily trials… the setting up… the closing down… the care… the refreshing mint of content… yet pulled in all directions at once we flee to hold the hands that once held us… the trials we are… the recognition of who they have become… the logical mind screams… the peace filled mind sharpens the brushes… to dream is to dance upon the canvas… body encased in colors… a pallet itself… each step a transformation… a shimmering of hope… the scent fills the nose… and we step up to the take… charge write in… and put the place to those who are riding the last of the waves… it may be ages… or just long enough that it saps all of our sanity… or at least enough that we are capable of seeing the dance as one long passionate recipe for laughter… roll me in the pallet and let us play on the canvas… and I wonder what the portrait would be..?

Facts of the moment have a way of changing over time… the comfort one finds in a conversation leads to comforts of another sort… of another variety… the person we are this day turns and is suddenly captivated by the expressiveness of another’s eyes thought to be blind we are awakened to the new delight… obvious and elusive… facts change… the more we say know way… the more the mind finds ways to bring the forces to bare…

Know zing… to be… or knot to be… faith full to the old way of wishing for a sudden something in the air that plays across ones mind… attention to the detail of hue… a criteria missing from times past… presents itself… safe is the friend that provides benefits for they go home… they have their own way… their own criteria… separate… providing an incentive… encouraging a spark to fly into the embers… to heat up the mind… the heart… the soul… stirring the old youth filled ideas… pushing ones imagination further…know zing… interesting that even in that there is some thing…

At what point is medical technology prolonging the course of a life…? There must be a balance given… I am in favor of allowing decisions to be made by individuals… laws never seems to get it right… they are postured for and against… the ones closest to the situation know what is best… for all concerned… the answer is not a cut and dry statement of what is allowed… or knot… the answer is within the hearts of those involved… within reason they should be allowed to deal with tragedy as they can… as a society we should be providing encouragement and aid to them so that they can make the decision that is best for the patient… in this day and age we are capable of prolonging the cycle of life maybe even beyond what was intended… as witnesses to the unfolding tragedy… instead of providing the comfort and space required by the families we become participants… pushing our way inside what to me is a very private and personal matter… in life we learn to consider all that is possible and then make the best decisions we can… hope fully it is the decision that is best for all those involved…