There is a general belief that large corporations pay taxes… that taxing a business is a way of getting revenue without taxing an individual… business and corporations don’t pay taxes… the people who buy their products and services pay the taxes… if you wonder why business leave and set up in other places it is because it is less expensive to operate in those places… understanding this simple principle makes it easy to focus on what is important… that is employment of individuals… if you make your environment business friendly so that jobs are created in your community… that the people who have those jobs live in your community… send their children to school there… buy clothes… food… etc… then the community flourishes… all these taxes… on everything get to a point where they defeat the basic principle… people need to work… jobs need to be available… having said that the fairest tax is often seen as the most offensive tax… the fairest tax is an income tax and the second one is the user tax… income is self explanatory… the more you make the more you pay… the sliding scale in place helps the poor pay less the richer pay more butt the limit should be so that it drives people to make more… so they get to keep more… the user tax is another simple tax… for example… a tax on gasoline that is used to repair roads and bridges… the people that use it… pay for it… what gets crazy is that while we can create non-government jobs to take on the tasks of helping the poor… dealing with welfare situations we tend to give those tasks to the government… politics and money never do well… there is corruption and the people who truly need the help never get it… less government is a better government… butt there is a place where less is not so good… so we need to be careful and find the right amount of government so that the truly very wealthy and powerful individuals don’t dictate policy either… when ever one side of the scale gets too much control the balance is upset… and that balance is necessary… it takes all of us to balance the ledgers… in our business there is more or less a small microcosm of society… people of many different nationalities and backgrounds… there are the corporate people like myself and the workers… who do the routine daily tasks of producing the products we sell… each job has its perks… and there are differences between the staffs… and I know some people feel above others because of their job titles… that is human nature… when it happens though I like to remind them… that the job of making the product is as critical and in some cases more so then the job of say answering a phone of doing computer work… witch is also important… the tasks are equally critical… and equally measured… I also know that human nature being what it is people think they are taking advantage of the company… we have our amount of missing material… tools… people cheating on their time cards… the world is not perfect… we are not perfect… governments are not perfect… so it is my feeling that if I have to deal with imperfections I wish the imperfection to be on a scale I can deal with… not some huge government agency filled with people who could care less about the true nature of their job… if you have ever had to deal with that situation you know what I mean… you get know where at all…

On a much more general sort of thought process… the weather has turned to the place where going outside before the sun rises is painful… the dip has been uncomfortable butt thankfully the storm that raged across the country passed south of us and the snow and ice and other nastiness did not add to the misery… deep set in cold is not enjoyable… I love the winter for the snow and the cold that we can get out in and play… when it gets this cold… forget about going outside… ones nose will freeze off…

Sleep captivated me last night… perhaps it was the day yesterday… busy as it was with home things… cleaning mostly… it has been awhile and I took the opportunity to get some things organized while the home was empty as everyone was out working or with friends… it takes time after the holidays to settle back into the routine of work… home… school… what ever the routine is… and it takes a moment now and again to refresh the soul… as I have gathered time to me through experience I find that sleep often tells me more about my general mood than anything else… when I sleep more I am not as happy or content as when I am awake early and moving… perhaps that is just me…

Body art is all in the eye of the beholder… I know people with them and without… it does not change my opinion in any way at all… we do things when we are young that well perhaps we would rethink in later years… butt that is what youth is for… to learn by the trials and experience of what works and what does not for us… to each their own… I am the person I am because of the road I traveled… without going down that way I would be some one else… have different opinions… likes dislikes… attitudes… butt here I am me at this place in life and this is what I sense in things… I find when wondering about life it is good to ask… what is on this road that I needed to experience… or what is the importance of this struggle that I am having… very philosophical yes butt they lead to some interesting answers… of course only we can answer them… an outsiders view of our struggles and choices does not help us one bit… we have to come to the conclusions that fit our puzzle… the same is true of the body art… a moments desire turns into a life time of wondering just what was I thinking when I did this… oh yea it was going to look cool… of piecing my lip was going to get me that job where exactly… society has a different view of rebellion when we are parents we see that… butt before we have no concept…

The home is quiet this morning… a particularly serine quiet… the cold frigid air outside has a bit to do with that… so much easier to just stay in bed when the cold outside is way below frosty… the warm blankets and the pulled shades make for a nice cocoon to snuggle up inside of… I over sleep my time and got up a bit later that usual… a signal that my mood is not the best… I am aware of my imbalance… the tide rises in me to speak… butt no good will come of what I say or do so it is best to allow the river to find its own path… some times we do need to step out of the way and allow another to make their own mistakes… nothing we can do… just support them… I am troubled by the process not by the philosophical questions… we follow paths because we need to learn what is down them… some times what we ask for is beyond our ability to reach… and we have to learn that… some times what we ask for requires a step in a direction we never anticipated so we are prepared for the changes yet to come… it is not what we planned on doing it is however what we need to do to be in the position we desire… and some times we cannot see for the frustration that surrounds us and we need to learn how to deal with the most common of learning situations… being frustrated by tasks given without proper thought… in life we learn all these lessons… in teaching we some times use these methods to see who will pursue the results in spite of the barriers… and who will fall to the way side… who is of the mind to go beyond… and who is the one that allows the wall to stop them… it is a quiet home this morning… filled with the sounds of silence… I am enjoying the solitude…

I am wondering in mind… at certain times my mind wanders inward… the path leads me home… a circular transgression from one place to another… the road is not unique… it has been well traveled I believe… no way to be sure… the path is worn… over the ages I suspect… who am I really… do I exist in the fabric of time… have I been here before in another face behind another set of eyes… is this all there is or do we cycle back around again and again until we get it right or is this the one chance we have to figure out the questions that run within us… potential I have… we all have the potential some realize it others never reach the verge of it… I am wondering if the fabric of my being has rendered me immune to the cuts…

All have walked away in silence… the connections made they follow their path and it diverges from the others… they are unaware of where it leads them… happy to be free of the past they move on toward a much brighter future… there will come a time when they stop and for a moment wonder just what happened… but the magic is so good and weaved so well that they will not give it more than a moment before moving on… it is about the art of self connecting to the art of this time… once they snap into place it is impossible to disconnect them… they seem as if they were in all ways together… that is the magic… the pulse of change so subtle and so powerful that the mind is from that point in time unaware of ever being without… the sound of deafening silence… the roar of it on this morning… it is hardest for me at about this time in the process… a few days or weeks out of the forest… in the cold dead of winter… where my mind wanders to the past… present and future and seeks the soul friends… the paths they are on… the places they are in and the journeys they are taking… I know the clarity of soul spins me wide and far… I am aware that I am unaware and that is critical to my sanity… connection made… silence ensues… task done… the veil moves in… the fabric of my time peels me back and away from the other path for mine is a different one that requires an alternative series of steps… one does not keep in time with the past they are wishing to forget… they move on…

An endless circle surrounds me… a pulsating sort of energy… all life… all intuitive… all the places I have been and lessons learned… all the magic that is life is mixed in and out… touch it and it moves out of your way… there butt not… felt butt not tangible to the touch… the peace that makes one complete or whole is a shadow on the horizon… once touched by it… once it enters your life… once you held it… it permeates your sense of being… all souls connect in a stream of consciousness… what sense is there in connecting if the connection will fade and fold onto itself at some place in the future of time and disappear into the fabric of time for one and be remembered forever by the other… what sense is there in that… none and all I assume… for to expect nothing one has to give up the need to be remembered… in fact the elusive force that adjust a course is the most powerful of all… a simple hand that says this way… a nudge to step out of the road… a hand that holds you just for a split second… a thought to go left instead of right… a sense that your destiny leads down this way… a bit of liquid luck not in a bottle that is drunk butt in the hand of souls watching out from the distance… a slight pull or push… a whisper… a deep breath taken in and exhaled into the night and the need passes… I have become comfortable numb… the scream has subsided… the drugs work well… the drugs that release inside me when I sit in the zone of my own art… to let go the high that follows the setting down… I don’t hear what you are saying I feel it in fleeting glimpses… my eyes closed I see better… my hearing shut off I hear more… numb I feel so intensely that a single finger tip sets of waves of emotions… one can captivate me in silence and wrap me in the fabric of the time and I will melt into their being in peaces of solitude and illusion… the figment awash in the passionate heat of the moment… an illusion drenched in the sweat of the art unfolding…

I have learned to trust immediately… to assume that the pattern will connect to a like mind and at least a mind that over stands the passion that flows beneath… it scares a few… terrifies a lot more… many have wandered past and left quietly seeking a better island to wander upon… I am that rock in the middle of the stream that most step over that few find a need to connect with… and some that do just move on… and every so often one finds the beating heart beneath the rough surface and connects… it takes a unique sense to get it… I have learned to trust immediately and not to worry about the running footsteps and the hurried voices that ask just what the hell was that… mysteries are every where within the forest… the rivers that meander toward the sea… the bridges that move one across the open spaces and spans of time… I have learned to leap with faith and land softly in the fabric of time… I trust that those who get it… over stand…

Green grass sleeps beneath the white blanket… silently waiting for the first touch of spring… but for now they sleep… nature has that art of slumber… the art of rest for the weary… the patience to know that everything has a time and it is important to wait until the time is ripe before picking… soon enough the spring time will air its breath upon the white blanket and melt it way… soon enough the tasks of spring time will find me… to enjoy today is the wonder that captivates me… some times I succeed and some times I reach less than I know I am capable of… others influence my joy more and more…

I am wandering today on the dark side of the moon… across the center from the middle out of sight and mind… the lunatic roams my head… folding my face to the floor boards… arranging my head till I am insane with my sanity… funny how some lyrics find their way to reality in the moment… we all meet at one time or another when the bands were in starts playing the same tunes… the gateway opens… the threshold crossed the art becomes the reality for a moment in the imagination… melodies sing… the falling rain… the sounds of chirping morning… the slow soft ripple of water across the stream filled with rocks… the call of the crow… a hawk gliding across the sky… all music is relative to the moment… all has its place… a bit of fascination… I see the natural falls… the pageantry of time… the crack in the fabric… the seam sewed up… the ledger marked… the moment assigned… and the escaped blocked… one way in and one way out… one ahs to find their own method to dance… to put on the shoes and hold the floor for at least one series of moments… the joy is life unfolding… and I trust you over stand the lyrics better than I do…

One step… one step… one step… two steps… the cross over… a walk in the recesses of the mind… a pageantry of steps… be careful of the feet side to side… the room imagined… the rain soft across the fields… the fabric of the time melting… the road rising up to meet the steps… the feet falls short and lively… the trumpet sounds the call to home and the hounds turn… a mystery that shrouds the mind… yet open the doors become to the cold wintry gusts… one step… two steps… back and forth… a kindred silence… the legendary trace of time and space… final and yet un-tethered we move… a step in time… a long silence… speechless whisperings… the door closes to the four winds of change and the sounds of silence brings one home again… one step… two steps… three steps four… and then silence… as the opus begins… sit and reflect upon the open shore… the fabric tight around ones waist… not the moment nor thy fate…

We do tend to rationalize things from our point of view… the truth is at times dependant on how we look at it or the direction we see it… that is why it is so very important that we express our opinions and our ideas and come to a compromise… or at least we have our say about what direction we wish to go in… nothing ever works perfectly… the imperfections are some times what makes the system unique and interesting… mist takes are the portals of discovery… I believe that is so very true… I forget who said it… it was not me… butt I believe it… when we reach for a worth while goal it is important to set our goals high and strive to reach it… that way even if we only get half way there we have managed to move the stick a good distance… we may not be perfect… but we are all we have…

We do tend to go full circle… from children to adults to children once more… there is a certain purity in that… the circle of life so to speak… we go from being the child that needs direction and help to the parent that provides the direction and help to being the old one in need of direction and help of another kind… life has a way of teaching us that we best be kind to those we meet on the way… for we will meet them again on our way around… and around we do go… we find that we can make mistakes and step outside ourselves and still manage to do all that inside one day… we are better at being the provider when we have the need… in fact I believe we rise up to meet the expectations that are placed upon us… at some point we get what we need… not all ways what we want… that is the child within talking… and perhaps we all need a bit of the child within talking to us and getting us to play a bit more… it is very easy as adults to lose the sense of the ridiculous that children see in each and every day…

I am a very philosophical writer… in that when I sit to write I tend to pick out some thing of what is said to me and allow myself the privilege of painting what comes to mind on paper… what that means is that I tend to take my particular unique style of writing and think of it as an art form… or I allow myself to ramble on and see what comes out…

In my world most things are very orderly… there is that sense of responsibility and focus that every parent has toward their children and home… job… the world at large… there is another aspect of my life that I grasp differently… that is what is going on here and now… the give and the take… and while I am a bit of a unique adventure… it is usually more smiles than serious…

I find that I leave when the door close on me… not that I haven’t caused the door to close… people leave and they arrive… the time they are with us deepens on where we are in our lives… I remember finding one soul and watching them go and then a few years later they walked into my life and stayed for a look time… ten or twelve years before our paths diverged once more… and while it is some what sad… it is also wondrous to know that they found their way… some times we are with people we know are seeking some thing we can knot provide butt they are so hurt by the world that they have difficulty moving on… they like the routine of their life and they have forgotten what it is like to live… while it saddens me I over stand the concept of fear that locks a soul in place… the fear of being turned away again… of having some one turn away from them in a intimate moment… my friends are all diverse and different and they tend to be unique in their thoughts about life… I appreciate that more than I think they realize at times… for it is for me the canvas of my tapestry…

Leaving are thresholds for me… the song dweller on a threshold by Van Morrison lingers in my mind at times… for I can see myself as that soul… on the edge of reality… moving back and forth teetering on the edge… the song speaks to me of times past and present fitting together… the bells ring and the tolling at times is for me… when I sit to read a book I often hear the words singing to me… that is they speak to me not as I am reading them butt as songs being played… a dream some what…

The wizard in the light calls to me… this is not so much a dream as a reality… on my desk sits on… and it calls out to me at times to move along or move on… I can get stuck in a time or series of thoughts… it is good at times to have that saintly old wise man push me toward some thing else… I tend not to talk politics or religion unless asked… I find the subjects deeply interesting butt highly emotional ones and my views especially on religion are some what unique… spiritual I am… religious I am not and those two elements cause people to wonder about me… it is however easy for me to be deeply spiritual and have a strong belief and still find the structure of religion the cause of most diversity in the world… the wizard says move on… the same is true of politics… I simply trust neither… so I suspect both sides of the spectrum of being thieves and blood suckers… the wizard says move on… then there is love… a most interesting subject for it exists all around us in many forms… and yet people ignore it… day after day… fearful… some arrogant of it… some expect from it… and very few know the true touch of love… it saddens me at times to know of people who live their lives in that blindness… butt whom am I to show them anything… it is not some thing one can talk about really… it is some thing that flows from within your soul… and how do you explain that…

We come home… home is not a place so much as a state of mind… a situation where we find ourselves… home is some what of an enigma that we long for when we are away and struggle to get out from under when we are home until we have one of our own… in that respect home is where we are… where we feel most at peace… centered… alive… we can search for our entire lives for that elusive sense of home… in truth we carry it inside us…

If we are not careful a lot of words will be placed in the politically incorrect shelf… eventually there will be a rebellion of sorts… personally I like all the nick names that are so outrageous that it makes people stop and think… being Irish I was always referred to as a mick or a drunkard… witch always made me laugh… because well my name is not mick and I was never drunk in public… in private I have had my moments mind you… nothing more that youthful exuberance… it is difficult to argue a point without being labeled some thing… if you are against gay marriage you are homophobic… if you are antiabortion you are anti-feminist… if you are not left wing you are a right winged conservative… well that is not how things go really… we have opinions on a great many things and some are specific to situations… some times people have to step away from the labels to get a better description of whom they are dealing with… what perplexes me though is the double standard of thought… if I smoke and I get cancer from it… do I have a right to say to anyone butt myself this is your fault because you didn’t stop me from doing it… the answer is no… butt people do… and that is what is so humorous… they do and they expect to be helped… it reminds me of the laws about motorcycle riders… helmet required… why would anyone fight that… butt they did and in some states of mind they are not required…personal freedom and all that… on the very next page… there was an article about insurance premiums for motorcycle riders in these states being four times as high as states that require helmets… the people who rode motorcycles in these states did not comprehend why their rates were so radically different than riders in states that required helmets and they were petitioning the government to find out… are you kidding me… duh… you are more likely to be killed or have permanent lasting damaged to your melon head you idiots if you are not wearing a helmet… so insurance wise… probability is you will cost them a lot… even I can tell you that… butt that is the essence of things… we want full freedom… butt we don’t wish to pay the cost of it… and some laws are reasonable and correct and others are just plain stupid… so when we call a spade a spade… or an idiot and idiot or a mic a mic… it is just who we are… personally I am more like Don Rickels the comedian… I take them all on… to me they are all morons… anyone who says you can’t use that word… I like to use that word until they scream know more… Jesus it is only a word… get over it… words don’t hurt the meaning we put behind them do… so call me a bigot or politically incorrect… and I will agree… care to smoke some of that rock candy… now there was a person on a trip… don’t you think?

My stages of rebellion were mild in comparisons to some… I had the long hair the wild jeans the some what old style of the times in witch I grew up… my rebellion was toward edgy some times strange music… I had my time with drugs… still remember those… though they did say I would have flash backs because of some of the things I did… I would not know the difference between a flash back or a memory of a previous time and thank fully I survived… some didn’t as we know… some fell to the way side… butt I learned how to take the good and to use it more and more and refine its elements and therefore I can use the tool as it was intended… though I would not like to go back there… there were moments when time and space did stand still… my true rebellion came much later in life… when faced with a choice to change my focus and attitude I twisted a bit too far over the edge and stepped out of the suit and the tie and the façade and became the me that I am now… much easier going… much more relaxed… and much happier… though I think my it’s all good attitude has not had the best effect on my family… it has worked very well for me… piercings are not for me… though most of my friends have them in some unusual places… as well as tattoos… the not cleaning oneself is not my thing… never liked that… you can look like you don’t… butt you need to… believe me you need to… I have stressed this particular fascination to the male population on a number of occasions… and I do point out… ladies don’t like odorous men… they turn their noses up… it does take a while before the guys get it… butt they do eventually… rebellion is in all of us… and as rebellions go most of us do it mildly…

All things have there place… seasons for sure have a wondrous effect on us… winter with all its wonder makes me long for the first hints of sprint time… the green grass… the scent of the earth once more coming around to rebuild the forests… the slow gradual movement of the temperature upwards to warm the earth… the cool mornings and evenings… the need within to escape to the out of doors… time to get things in order… to begin the repairs that winter necessitates… to make a list of tasks to go through… summer follows with its wonderful plants and flowers in bloom… the colors of the rainbow play out on the landscape… and heat… wonderful glorious heat that makes me sweat… there are always chores to do in the summer… the grass to cut the bushes to maintain… the garden to tend to… the dogs to clean up after… weeding… weeding… and more weeding… there never seems to be enough time during the warmth of summer… it is the time of vacations and holidays… to rush off to the seas once more… to stroll southward to relax and get away from it all for a week or two… to get ready for the next year at school… to prepare for the next great adventure on the horizon… and then there is the fall… autumn… the culmination of all seasons… it is an enigma fall is… a wonderful colorful time when the tasks of spring and summer come to bear fruit… and we rejoice in the plenty of the harvests as we prepare for the cold months ahead… autumn has its own scent on the wind… one of success and promise… it is a time for counting ones blessings and giving thanks… and a time for beginning anew… and we come full circle…

There are books that change lives… books that guide us through the caverns of our experiences… while music has been my major artery of expression of the angst of growing up… there have been books that I remember… catcher in the rye… on Walden’s pond… the prince… Huckleberry Finn… Tom Sawyer… the poems of Edgar Allen Poe… All Quiet on the Western Front… Macbeth… taming of the shrew… A Man for All Seasons… some poetry… snippets of lines here and there… some comedy that struck a chord in me… lines filled the air from movies and theatre… being so close to theatre it was not difficult to seize a moment and find oneself in a room with others listening to the words flow out and the laughter tumble down… I found that I liked to laugh more than I wished to be moved painfully… drama’s have not been my thing… adventure… yes… the more the merrier… the dream can last a long time if you allow it room to flourish… recently some one gave me the book… the shack… I read it and found it to be unusual… it is a spiritual sort of book that uses certain imagery… butt it is centered around a very painful experience… witch reminds me of the spiritual books that surround me… lots of female oriented ones… related to my own Christian religion… books on the knights templar… old scriptures and tales that have historical pieces within them… when I read Dan Brown’s books I knew it was a story with a series of ideas and concepts… butt it also brought to mind and made me think of all the possibilities that befall a series of changes… any type of change… we make adjustments to get the core of things across… we leave out things that ruffle feathers a bit too harshly… woman have been through history regarded as second class… so is it hard to imagine what the possibilities could have been if different… how much more could the world be… it is interesting that when you open your mind to the feminine possibilities that some things change… and some only mellow… not all are the same… all that from a book… funny how a story about one thing opens the mind to others… I am fascinated at times with fantasy books… the stories of tales told in dreams about lands never seen… lord of the rings… wizards and witches and dark creatures that stalk our imagination… the fate of the world hinged on the unlikely hero… anything is possible in a dream… and I believe that is an important concept and idea… that if you set your mind upon a destination that you can reach it despite the obstacles life places before you… the need to persevere in the face of life’s challenges is what separates us… greatness is never thrust upon some one… it is earned… by the sweat of their brow and the determination in their soul…

Funny how the talk of books spurs the mind to wander in many different direction all at the same time… so much so that only a small amount of what comes up actually gets pour out onto the page… a flutter of a wing… and the winds change toward another direction… the heat of summer is longed for in the cold of winter time… as the thermostat struggles to get above the freezing mark I long for the heat of summer… the reverse is true in the depth of summer where the heat boils the ground I will long for the cool temperatures of winter time… it is in my nature not to be completely satisfied with the current present… always a bit more to ask for and to long for… perfection is not a state but an attitude we strive to reach butt know we never shall… it is a pure illusion…

At some point in the day… the technology all goes to hell… it is a consistent theme… what would we do without it… survive… perhaps life would be much easier if we stepped back and did some things as they were intended… butt the shrinking of the world because of the technology does allow us to bond a bit better and get to know one another in spite of the rhetoric that tries to pull us apart… we are not really all that different… only when we listen to the extremes do we fall prey to the prejudice…

I am a fan of snow… and I hate it… I love it when I am able to enjoy the wonder of it falling… to play in it… sleigh rides and snow ball fights… and walks along snow covered roads… on the other hand I hate it when I have to travel to work in it over roads filled with others who do unnecessary things… we get snow here pretty regularly during the winter months… it is not unusual to have snow but it takes a few storms to get everyone in the proper mode of caution… we have not had a lot of snow this winter so far… a storm here and there and that makes for laziness on our parts… we are not in the focus of dealing with it… I do so love to sit by the fire and watch it fall outside… our previous house had a nice fireplace and we would sit there with the kids and drink hot chocolate and watch the snow fall… now they are all older… and those days are gone… and we have moved from the old house to this new one and it does not have a fireplace… still I remember… silly what we remember at times isn’t it?

The pressures of life exist for all of us… teenage angst is an ever growing thought process… what is so important about fitting in anyway… as teenagers all we want to do is fit in some how to a group and then for the rest of our lives we want to be seen as an individual… those two seem to me to be at opposite ends… having survived the teens myself and having children one witch is still in the raging hormones of those years I over stand a bit about the anger… the fears… the general uncomfortable in ones own skin times… where is my place… no one loves me… who will take care of me… not to mention the relationship issues that are so the focus of their lives… so in the snow it was enjoyable to see some of them just having a good time playing like they did when they were young children… some thing happens in the snow that takes us all back to the day off from school mind set of getting out in the weather and just sliding down a hill… why do they miss it as teenagers… well my theory is that their heads are up there ass listening to all this crap about social hierarchy… being dressed the same… having a group to fit into… perhaps that is where I was different… I was a very square peg… in a time of very round holes… and I just never fit the mold… in fact I still refuse to come to terms with it… I am me… unique different… with some similar traits but mostly I am who I am… and if you try to label me… well you will be disappointed at some point or another… that is what I have learned along the way… and yet when ever it snows… the child in me comes out to play…

My world is a fragment of the real world… a peace sliced off the whole… surrounded I am by the particles of delight that spark my sense or inspire me to play…in a very real sense it is not real at all… it is part of my illusion and partly of the perception of me that is reflected back on those who look in… each of us I believe has a certain arrangement in witch they perceive the world around them… what we actually see is not the real world at all butt our interpretation of the real world… there in is the thought that believing is seeing… if we believe some thing to be so we can see it as being so… that is a very powerful state of mind to over come… we see it manifest itself in religion and politics all the time… where a person or persons believes what they wish to believe… all the while ignoring important sensory information that is not supporting their state of mind… yet the state of mind still exists… we have also seen it do wondrous things… a person who believes they can walk on hot coals… or survive cancer… and they do… because they believe it is with them to do so… the opposite side of the same sword… the fragment that is mine is perhaps a little better than another’s butt it is what I created… and I am sure mine is not as perfect for another as it is for me… you can’t be another person and you can’t live in their world for a long period of time… all you can ever do or should ever do is live in your own… my universe is whole… complete… it lacks nothing and every thing… that is the nature of the universe within the soul… the soul contains all that we require… all we need to do is access it in a way that grows out… all that I am or will ever be is attached to the inner peace that is me…

We have things we do… some are worthy of our time others fade as we do them because they are not worthy of the time we spend… as a child I could ride the hills on a piece of cardboard for hours upon hours… it does not take special clothes and expensive equipment to enjoy the snow fall… all it takes is imagination… an old tire tube… and the fun explodes inside my mind… the less we have some times the more inventive we need to be to accomplish the fun that swims within our hearts… a walk in the woods on a snowy day… leaving footprints… a white landscape to look out over… a trail to find… an adventure in exploring the purity of being blinded by the white… how things fade into uniformity when draped in white and how much better they are in their natural colors… how much more do we appreciate the green after we have felt the touch of the frost… give me the snow… the white blindness for a time and I can erase nay thought… it is easier to hide in the fullness of light than in the darkest cave in the depths of your soul… where a single candle can illuminate the darkness…

Sing to me of songs long gone… a whisper to the winds to play… lately I am being sentimental as I convert my old recordings into digital files… they are so old and some what fragile that they are not copying very well… butt the sentimental journey is fascinating… the songs trip the delights fantastic at times… and at others settle me in to a mood as I remember being a teenager in love… of a particular summer… or person long lost or gone from the fabric of my reality butt still very much alive in my memories… I know we all have that fiber in us… the one that glows when we hear a certain song or breathe in a certain scent… trips down along the past are trippy… in that drug induced sort of way… for the drug is the past… the good times and the bad… the trials and journeys we took along the way… magic is not always of the magician… some times we practice wonderful magic and slight of hand on ourselves… perhaps we should take note of it now and again…

We approach the corner with caution and the straight away with reckless abandon… that is the normal concept of who one should deal with the road before them… to do the opposite would be unwise… so it is not by chance that change occurs and we grow… because we are moving along the road… we see the corner or the twist coming and we slow down enough to gain a perspective before we step around the bend… and when we view the open road ahead we press the accelerator to the floor and get moving… progress is measurable… even in small movements… motions… getting up and taking on the simple tasks… the mind wanders when we are at rest too long… we forget the mundane everyday things… names are the labels that escape me more often that anything else… simply terrible… to know you know some thing and not be able to recall it… scary really…

The mystery will remain a mystery for it is fleeting… what is change but a alternative tow hat was there before… time comes and goes in ones life and we need to take advantage of it… what I am doing is taking advantage of the time granted to me… how it progresses well that remains to be seen… butt for now this day at present I am where I am… know more nor less… with all the wonder and worry in the world we need only to accept what is there and use it… for time is plentiful until time runs out the door and we are left holding the bag wanting just one more minute and not having even that… the measures we use are not of my liking… certain elements of me have not changed… there is action and reaction… it is more timely now… that is because there is time in winter to be inside nestled close to the window and to let go… come spring time when the out of doors calls that time is less… and in summer even less still… why… where… with whom are not questions I indulge for it tends to smart a bit to the personalities involved… no one wishes to be the second… and in my mind each is unique butt I also know from the harsh reality that each has a limit to what they will listen to… so I am taking care to keep the mystery within myself… perhaps it would be easier to speak of it… butt arrivals and departures are the same in my mind… when ever one leaves… one arrives… when one connects to their must another wanders in search of one… when ever the sentimental journey slips into my mind it is because and why and with whom are you concerned about and the answer is I am concerned about time so I am taking advantage of the time granted to me… we all wish to have answers direct and solid that we can put our feet upon and know we will knot be pulled out from under… the problem is to do that requires a degree of truth fullness that I don’t possess… I can’t say because I don’t know when the peaces will snap in place and it will be your turn… and what you want to know is when will it be my turn… when will the song be mine… the dance be mine… it is the question everyone asks of the other… what begins as a journey of exploration of time becomes a need… a passion… a desire to share… when will it be mine… when will the peaces all fall into place so that the picture framed is to my wonder and desire… I know enough to know that I don’t have that answer… only time does and he does not confide in me… I will know when the words stop… when the sounds of silence filter in and the words fall upon deaf ears… for departures are always silent…

I enjoy the last minute alterations that come in winter… a flurry that turns into a bit more… rain that turns to snow… snow to rain… the cold… the bitter wind… the need to snuggle up to a fire and just warm the bones for they are chilled to the very core… this morning we are experiencing one of those fickle winter days… flurries predicted… snow is falling… snow is gathering… it is not a flurry that is happening… a shower perhaps… butt snow is never good when you have to move through it… not me by myself mind you… I am well versed at dealing with snow and slippery travel… it is all the others who lack the patience to drive as they should when the road is covered…

Today is a good day… a pleasant sort of day as we all get down to doing what we do… Thursdays are slower days here… one day off the center… one day before the end… they are a limbo sort of day…. A day we can put things off until tomorrow if we need to… also a day to get the slow things taken care of… the last of this month approaches and all sings are up from the past months… a good feeling for sure… optimistic I am… careful I will be… not all things are the same for all of us… some things are just unique… so today I will have a good day…

We need to be conscious to remember to remember… those who have walked before us have placed the stones beneath our feet and given us the opportunity to feel the wind beneath our wings… western society does not pay the correct homage to the wisdom that age brings… we push aside the old and want the new and latest versions… sad to me really as I think the lessons learned from mentors who are older holds more promise that we will avoid the current dilemmas we find ourselves facing…

Some cook… some bake… some are chefs and some are just providers… I am a cook… I love the kitchen and the activity… and this time of year I am at my best… comfort foods… hearty meals… soups and stews and pasta dishes… things that stick to your stomach and make you feel warm and satisfied… I am more challenged in the heat of summer… when one wishes to cook light and airy to deal with the weather… I am not a baker… a baker is a person who feels the ingredients more than measures them… they love to have their hands in the mix and to taste with finger tips the texture… the batter… I love to watch it being done… the measure by eye… the creative flow of the mixtures… it is a joy to watch…

Today the path seems wilted in comparison to yesterday… the turn of cold a twist in the forecast… snow flakes falling and roads white with beauty become a haunting experience as daunting as climbing a mountain… or forging a raging river… people lose themselves in the river because they forget it has a path that is different from theirs… they are at cross points one flowing eat to west the other crossing north to south… nature will take what you give her and if you slip and fall you will be farther down from where you need to be… taken away suddenly and without purpose except as a reminder of the power that nature brings… a small thing a snow flake is… each unique until they pile up and meld into a uniform shape…

Styles are unique until others pick them up… as mine is so unique I doubt anyone would pick it up as a means to communicate… butt you never know what can happen… there is freedom in being one of a kind or one character… the difficulty is as has been said being some one of a particular thread or taste… it does take some one with a bit of an open mind to exchange ideas with another who does not conform to standards of any sort… we each do have a style that is our own… it comes from the words we choose and the expressions we find comfort in… for me I wished more… to be more outside the normal range of things… it is some what of a rebellion I am sure… some one would anal eyes it and come up with some crazy idea about some childhood suffering that ahs caused it… and perhaps there was… or perhaps it is just me rebelling finally… in a quiet sort of way… a silent rebellion…

Many daze have been spent wondering where the footprints fade away to… running along the edge of the shore line teasing the water… watching the traces etched in the sand get wiped away and folded back into a smooth surface… a slate wiped clean from one minute to the next… how does one keep track of where they have been in regards to the shore… by feel… by the experience and feel of the water’s edge upon your being…

The turbulent morning has mellowed as the day moves toward noon… the cold blast has echoed a cold wind and a cold shower of snow… just enough to be annoying… and just enough to make the world look clean and neat… snow is soft and silent… pleasant to look out on and walk in on a cold night… it reminds me of winter’s past… of sleigh rides and toboggan runs… of slopes and ice… of sweating inside the suit on a day so cold your nose half froze off and still you needed to be outside… is there anything so wonderful as snow… light and fluffy… a summer’s rain… the light drizzle that sticks to your skin and cools you off from a very hot day… is probably the closet I would come to it… it has the same effect on me… I want to walk in the slow falling snow… and get wrapped in a warm blanket and drink hot chocolate by the fire… what trips such memories…

Youth is wasted on the young… when we are young we do so feel we know it all… it is laughable once you take your head out of your arse… butt than we are young and we have energy and stamina for all things… what we don’t know we make up for in durability… as we grow… that takes its toll and the world puts things into perspective for us… we miss a few opportunities we really want… we get what we need instead and find that all that we want is not good for us… some times we do get what we ask for and we regret it over and over… time ticks away until suddenly we are on the others side of the age curve… and our children are doing what we did and we wonder… will they ever learn… will they ever get past the need to know it all and believe they have the world in the palm of their hands… did we… did we ever get over having the world at our finger tips… did we ever get past being present in the moment… of course we did… but it took a lot of time… loss and frustration to pull us into the reality… and know one did it for us… so they will find their way… and we will find ours…

Who doesn’t love to enjoy the baking… the final results are in all ways enjoyed by the many… the younger the more they seem to enjoy the treat… critics they may be for they know what they like and they don’t mixed words… you know for they are that honest about who they are… it is what makes them children… they have not yet learned the fine art of the white lie… I love that about kids… they are direct and to the point… so refreshing to know where you stand… especially when you are feeding them…

The early evening finds us once more in the quiet mode of study and relaxing before the keys… I am beginning to enjoy this time more and more… though I prefer the morning delight of dawn more than the evening sunsets… I am beginning to enjoy this time… an after dinner stop off on the road to relaxing and unwinding… though I am finding that I am making a lot more typing mistakes at this time of the day… I wonder what that is all about…

I have been wandering about trying to find the right book to read… I tried a few and they don’t seem to spark me in the right direction… that happens to me some times… I fall prey to my own limited sight of line… I want some thing to enjoy and yet I can’t enjoy the some things I have… frustrating that is… butt who knows… the next good story could be just there around the bend…

The day meandered down and around the tasks I had… the snow settled into flurries eventually… lasting only a couple of hours and leaving just enough to cause accidents and falls… the snow was that heavy spring time snow… wet with moisture that falls and immediately begins to melt… a slushy white mess it turned into… and then the sun came out… and melted most of it away… so it was the perfect storm… a brief period of havoc followed by the sun to melt it all away…

Tonight is an off day… meaning there is not a lot to do other than be around… no classes or meetings or appointments to be taken care of… just be home… witch does make for an interesting time… for home has its tasks to take care as well… so tonight we are taking care of the tasks at hand at home… a very different experience for us… mostly we are running around taking care of this… butt who knows it could in a drop of a hat… and then we will be off again… patience and time… and it comes to you…

The fairies will take to the clouds or knot… they tend to do as fairies do… what they wish most of the time… the sin of fascination I am guilty of… I do tend to like to imagine them fluttering about… butt often forget that they have minds of their own and they are not controlled by what I sense or believe… they dance in the air and tempt me to walk this way… or sit right here only to capture my imagination… they are some times captivating and some times cruel in their joy… butt always they are fascinating…

I paddled across the tidewaters… a steady stroke in rhythm with the hour of the day… a some what purposeful direction towards some place… and yet I am unaware of just exactly where… some where on the horizon where the water meets the edge of land… a possibility of slipping inside and finding… just what I am not sure… butt I am sure enough to be unsure and that opens my eyes to what is around me… a gentle stroke of the paddles… a swift movement of the boat… adrift possibly I am… dreaming… most certainly I am… butt then who knows really what is real and what is a dream… some times life is a carnival… some times it is a series of routines… and some times when the time is ripe it is a series of dreams we had a long time ago and set into motion with every breath we have taken… believing is seeing… not the other way around as so many like to quote… it takes a strong belief in oneself to see with the inner eye… to be fascinated by the very nature of things… to feel the centuries in the stone you are holding… to listen to the wind blow and hear the whisper of the forest on its tongue as it licks at your ear…

When the words flow there is never a need to stop them… let the opportunity be what it is and take hold… for there will be times otherwise when the words scramble to come out and nothing seems to fit the paper but scraps of this and that… a laundry listing of tasks to do… so I take heart in the rambling flow of things and wish that it never ends… that is flows continuously on and on and on… butt I am also a realist and I know that there will be times when moods swing one way or another and the fire dims a bit… then patience is required to stoke the fire and add just the right kindling to get the wood burning as it should…

Heat is such an interesting metaphor for action… for being in the art… it is a sense of being on fire for me… of being drenched in a cool crisp white hot flux… that burns until the moment is gone and it can be gone in an instant or remain for days on end… but it is hot… and it burns and it calls to me to be consumed within its passion… to sweat the art out of me and into the world… so that with each passing hour the pages fill and the lines explode with details and where it leads I am not the organizer to know… I just follow the passion… the desire… the frenzy of warmth that says this way…

There is a place in my dream that consists of a forest made up of one singular tree… many have wandered past and seen only the singular… the one stand and never dreamed of looking beyond the reflection… for to hide one does so in plain sight… and so it is with this forest hidden in the shadow of this one singular tree… and that speaks to me of the façade we place before us in the world… that behind it we are many things… that stay hidden in the reflection and shadow of the one singular individual we are… each person sees the one element of us that reflects on them… and never really goes beyond that… butt dreams are so much more than simple imagery… they take on the meaning we wish to give them… the signs are ours… and the passion for them ours… so when I dream this dream I often think it means to open the door a bit more so that whom ever is looking in gets a better perspective of the real hue…

A pebble dropped… a series of ripples moves out from the center… be they of sound or liquid matters not… the effect is exactly the same… a small ripple in the fabric of time… can and often does build into a raging wave or storm… what causes it to build one way or another is a series of actions and reactions… if we add energy to it… it builds… if we take energy away it dwindles… the physical earth requires a balance of the energy that is associated with it… heat off set by cold… rain by dry… each action has an equal reaction… the pebble ripples a reaction that we can add to or take away from…

Knowledge helps to stem the tide a bit… knowing is not always a deterrent for reaching or stretching beyond ones means… a child has an excuse… butt a fairy is not a child… they have shoes that are older than I am… well at least that is the rumor… so while they are child like… they are not children in any stretch of the imagination… so as fairies go… be aware of them… and be wary of them… they do things as they see fit to do… and human logic does not work in trying to explain a fairies mind…

The hour dictates the response I will make… the later in the day the more chance there is that I may respond with less patience or with fatigue as opposed to what I would do earlier butt that is not in all ways true… there are daze when I do get up all wrong and out of myself… being human does have its drawbacks… being me has a few more… and being responsible adds items to the list that perhaps we should do without…

I changed the view on my computer screen… some times bigger is better… I can at least read what is on the screen without pressing my nose to it and that is much easier on my eyes… witch as any one nose is one of the weaker elements of my senses… you learn to compensate… I hear things a feel them a bit more… overly sensitive I think is what it is called… yes I am overly sensitive to what is said and I feel deeply… perhaps it is all because of the eyes not having the best range… so when I changed the view it got larger and easier for me to sit back and get a perspective… it is much easier on the eyes… and the posture… oh the simple things that make us happy… a bigger screen and nice large letters…

The expression I am hot has a number of double meanings associated with it… personally I would never make that statement… it goes without saying why… butt if I was to say why I would say because I never really get to that association… I think when some ones says it the answer is… that goes without saying… so please don’t say it… for it conjures up ideas in my head that I would rather not associate with certain people… now with others I can freely associate it with… I am easy that way… and while I know each of us has their own unique temperature gage… we should keep it to ourselves…

She tripped the light fantastic… it is for me all ways a she who does that… not that he’s can’t do it… and at times have done it… a she is more likely to accomplish the trip… it is the touch… the nature of the touch actually… the essence is unreal… the trial often left me eclipsed… in the dark that is… only to find the light a sliver at a time… the darkness fades in and out… instants are wiped clean of the fountain… she does it the muse or the note… or the fountain of words that flow from a myriad of sources… it is best to have shared a few then to never have shared at all… the perfect opportunity never presents herself… there is all ways a catch to her… a question that sits one on the edge… the answer tips the scales in one direction or another… so the way is easy to see… butt difficult to follow… and silence is usually the deafening sound that ensues… she trips the delights fantastic and walked and talked and sang with me until the day she stopped… and forever more the wisp was in the air and the memory on my heart… that is life she said… a taste and then a snap as the peaces fall into place and just as easily as one enters the threshold… they exit it… such is life she said… and I agree such is the way of the muse… the she that trips the delights… lingers and then vanishes as quickly as she arrived…

What makes sense is what works for you… knowledge come from the experiences we have… we find out what works for us by living it… it does not matter at all what another person says or does or how they dealt with a particular situation… we can learn from them… or by their experience butt until we live an experience we never truly know what will work for us and what won’t… experience is the teacher… life is the lessons we learn… we do so as we grow… and we are never too old or too far along to learn some thing new and different… what I have found out more often than not is how little I do actually know in comparison to what is available to know… I am not an expert on anything at all… not even myself… I sort of leave that to others to figure out… I suspect there is a long list of people who read what I write and try to figure out just who this person is… they would walk tight past me on the street without giving me a second look… so when we make sense… be sure to add plenty of common ingredients… for that is the best sense one can have…

The long and the short of it sliced off in equal measures… are there answers to the questions… are there even questions in the dialogue that spills forth… to whom does the bell now toll… the figment or the fragment… the shard or the mirror… the glass or the wood… the panel or the thread… to where are we going when the tide chases us… is this magic or just an illusion… a whispered wind calls me home… and while I manage all day long the strict and the straight must adhere to the lines that are drawn once free of that limitation the mind does wander a bit… and I miss this… for a long time now there has not been some one to ramble on to… this is the form of my art… butt for a long time the words have been of choices to make and situations to find ones way into or out of… there were stories I wrote that are best left in the past for they were not for the casual to see… even now when I read them I wonder what possessed me… deep recessed… a bit of evil escaping… I can laugh about me some times and wonder about me in others… I know where I am weakest and these snippets are my weakness… they are powerful and passionate and best left enclosed in the mines…

The magic for me is in the give and the take… where you have a logic to your prose… I have this freedom to mine… probably because I have such structure everywhere else in my life… that is what drives the style… one capital letter at the start of a paragraph… no punctuation just dots to separate thoughts as they flow out of me and find their way to the page… my own style of saying things… not encased in a frame that any one can put a label to… I so wish to be only me here… not for any other reason than to have the time and the space to be just that… that is allowed when some one like yourself allows it to be… it may seem like I am free totally… butt there is limitations to what I send out… there are words that some times come out I share in silence only… that is because they are not to be shared I have learned that… the difficult and the hard way… by experience… know matter what a person says… know matter how long you know them… there are limits to what each will allow or be open too… the magic is in the give and the take… to give without expectation… to not measure… to just let the river run… you have no idea how unique this exchange is… most like the proper formulas… the granting of time… the talk of the day… the general water cooler gossip… to spend my time like that… and I have at times… butt to do so all the time… does not suit my perspective of the art… to me the art should direct me…

I knew an artist who said she painted the best late at night in differing degrees of undress… as the paint covered her she discarded cloth… until some times she awakened from her artistic state completely covered in all kinds of paint she had used and completely naked… to me that is a bit extreme butt I over stood the metaphor… to be so free as to not care… to be so passionate as to give all that one has to the moment of creation… what is more daring… I could not see myself in that state ever butt I over stand the passion… the desire to find the muse and hold onto her… I was younger than… and we lost touch… butt I often wonder if she ever reached that inner passion and peace she desired… I hope so… I can be very sentimental at times…

My tendency is to wander… an escape from the routines of the day… butt even this is a routine… even this is a structure… a art without walls is still a structure we follow in kind and in time… the purpose is different… change is the norm… while remaining the same takes such a fast pace set of change skills I often wonder why people go to the trouble… just change with the world around you… be flexible enough to find your way… the distance is not clear… it is not finite… it is truly infinite… so when I wander it is nice to have some one listen… not judge… not expect… butt to just listen… you have no idea how powerful that reflection is to me…

Good or bad is a perspective… the things we do that end up being bad are not in all ways done that way… the intention was probably good when we started it just went astray of the intention… they say the path to hell is paved with good intentions and I believe this to be true… it is rare that some one starts out by saying I am going to screw with this person… it just happens that way… or so it seems to me… the bucket of good comes from the same bucket as the bad… what separates them is how we dealt with it… when the shit hit the fan did we hide… did we refuse to acknowledge or take responsibility… those are the bad… everything else is good in the end… as some one once told me… all things turn out good in the end… and I can see that for some people that is an important function to consider… for if it doesn’t turn out good there they may not wish to consider it at all…

To understand a person requires patience… for time is the messenger and he travels at his own pace… when you allow time and share time you find out things about each other… likes… dislikes… sense of humor… tastes… a certain give and take develops between the two… butt only with patience do we see that… do we achieve that state…

The lambs become silent… not by conscious thought… it is more by the wave… an overwhelming wave of reaction… words can flood a mind when not tempered… the volume of possibilities stretch endlessly in all directions so it is an impossible task at times to choose witch words to use and witch ones to let go… silence is the eerie finality of change… we come… we connect… we find out way… we feel the pang of some emotional wave and we step back to asses the change… we want to be wanted… for the other voice to call out in the darkness for us… and yet we know to follow ones path means that eventually silence is the answer… silence is the means by witch we communicate that we have moved on or taken a detour off the path you are on… it means we are away… stepped back to get a perspective or moved off to find a means by witch to speak… the lambs become silent… the wolves howl at the door butt know one can hear them because the silence is deafening… this bewilders me… and yet I am where I am… many are called few respond… few stay longer than a single exchange of possibilities… what is sought is not what I provide… what is sought is some thing more that I am capable of granting… what we say we wish for and say we want is often at odds to what our true motives are… we truly want to be wanted… and when faced with no expectations we go off in search of a place where we are expected…

Over the past couple of months paths have diverged… necessary… correctly… connections made they move off to find the world a much more enjoyable place… another task taken… another change complete… another moment to reflect upon the avenues and time past… I take a deep breath and close my eyes and the road does not seem that long or that difficult… having walked it takes away some of the anxiety associated with mystery… it is not fear a lot of the times… it is more anxiety than anything else… we simply are not confident in being unsure… when being unsure is what we should enjoy being more of… for being unsure opens our sense to seek out what is before us and explore the possibilities we can take… as I sit here inside my mind I am doing just that… exploring the endless possibilities… and wondering… there will be time at another cross road to take a sentimental journey… now it is time to simply let go and get out of the way…

I am not one to reach out immediately… we all need our space… our solitude to find our way… it is my belief that each of us is a free to do as they wish… no bonds or ties that bind one to another other than the ones we wish to acknowledge… in the light of that we choose to respond or knot… to reach out or knot… to speak or knot… and be that for one day or a thousand does not matter really… people come and they go… as philosophical as I am about it does not take away the pangs… the fears… the disillusionment I have at times… it just means I have learn from experience that you can’t always get what you want… that you get what you need and some times what you need is space and time… solitude of the mind to find your peace… to come to terms with the direction you are taking and the road you are on… I respect that in each and everyone… so I reach and I respond and when the response is silence I wait… until then… until the time is right for some thing more… I have noticed more and more that as one becomes connected to their course they move on quickly and silently… to sample different fruits… to savor different delights… to allow time to distance themselves from the bridge that took them from one aspect of their life to this one witch is much better… we color our world… as we find the light brighten to disappearance… all does not hide in the darkness… the best hides in the light…

Limbo… a place between the worlds… not here nor there… up nor down… right nor left… a suspended sate of an affair or question that cannot be answered… swept away on the crest of the new wave… placed gently on the rocks by the shore lined with the sands of time… a single shard…a peace of glass… transparent to the sun… hidden in the light… a shade… it is limbo I think…

The world spins some what out of control or pushed forward by demands or suspected demands until the popular opinion changes the tide… politics are strange bed fellows they eat you alive and then when you are gone move on to another after waxing the whimsy over hue… the world spins this way and that and until we stop it by not listening to the talking heads and get our own information and then generate our own opinion we will forever be at the mercy of the spin… what can be believed… very little… can we find the truth… yes… butt only by considering that the opposite point of view has some merit… some ground to consider… to totally ignore the opposite idea is counter productive to the argument… be they right or left… or simply wrong… all of one type does not a good component make… leaders are required to balance what with how much and where… to lead takes courage of the deepest kind and a willingness to step away from the safety of ones own group to embrace the other side… unfortunately know one has that type of courage today…

Speak of what comes to mind… render not what you think should be… render what you sense of the moment… trust in your intuition to lead you to the path that unfolds your art… when we stop and think about it… art is more reaction than planned action… it is more spontaneous than detailed organized… at least that is my experience… the best often flows when least expected at times when it is better to be doing some thing else… that is inspiration… the attraction of the muse… the passion of art in all things… speak than or write of what comes to mind when you sit upon the floor… the day… the hour… the minute… say what is necessary for you to say and let it be known… shared… exchanged… leave the rest where it must be and move on… for tomorrow we are afforded the same…

The combination of factors is what generally gets you in the end… it is never just one thing or one bad habit or one trait that spirals one down butt a series of elements that come together… combinations is what makes the spin faster… it is important to over stand how each feeds the other… the way the mood swings to connect with the movement or to balance one side or the other… and there is the key to the kingdom… balance… true balance comes when one element misfires and we adjust to compensate for the misfortune rather then allow it to plunge us into the rabbit hole… easier to do so when one is youth full and the world is thy oyster… more difficult to do as the years roll on and we grow weary of the trials and the fight… it does take fight and grit to live some times… to just tough it out…

There is all ways room for one more… there is never enough time in the day that is for sure butt there is all ways room… we make room… we open the door and we squeeze a bit more in… there is not that need to let one go to allow one in thing that so many espouse… that is not how my logic operates… room there is… what we do with the room… well that is what can be debated back and forth…

A circle is a mystical geometric property… circles are part and parcel of our existence… we move in circles all the time… minutes are circles… hours… days… months… seasons… years… all revolve around… a life is a circle that comes all the way around before ending only then is it a line from one point to another… until then we are circles… we speak of our sphere of influence and coming around to another year… we are all about circles… so it is that time when we sit and debate whether or knot activity is positive or negative or if we are making progress… only time heals those wounds… only time in his time lets us go… the only thing we have control over really is moving forward with the next circle and hoping that time will see fit to soften the sensations as we move though the seasons once more… difficult yes… hard at time… impossible at others… yet the alternative is what… to sit down and stop… to give up… some thing s will work… others will fall short… each has their place in time… time moves in his own sweet time and we have no control over when the day will dawn an we open our eyes and say… now it is done… because now we are done… we are all guilty at time of failing to see beyond the present… time is a cruel taskmaster and does not limit himself to our needs or wants or even desires… time moves when time is right… not before nor after…

Collisions need not be so dramatic as to take one off their course… or to stop them in their tracks… people collide meaning they take notice of each other… sparks to fly at times… and some times there are those collisions of differing attitudes… butt for the most part when people collide they take notice or at least that is the reference I am alluding to… hearts collide… souls collide… these are the collisions that interest me… in all aspects of the adventure… be it private… professional… intimate or social… from the everyday to the once in a life time occasions… there are lives colliding… sharing the same space… bouncing off one another… learning and teaching… when we forget that… we miss a lot of life… so when it gets in the way we need to step back and grasp it with both hands so we can enjoy the moments we have… what ever we do… where ever we are… we collide with whom ever is around us… smile and watch the small sparks ignite…

All we can do is to use the time given to us… there are specific things in life we are unable to change… all we can do is change how we experience them… we can look at life as a series of tasks that we must take on… a list of responsibilities… order to keep… organized… balanced… or we can choose to view the world through another set of eyes… where each day contains opportunities to spend time with those we love to care for them… to care for ourselves… to walk outside in the fresh air… to write… to listen… to curl up with a good book and read to have dinner with some one we love… it truly is all about perspective… isn’t it?

The world moves us with the wind… we are gently persuaded to go this way or that with the touch of a wing… is it real… is it just our imagination… is it some thing more or less… being unsure is an art form we should all get used to playing with… be sure enough to be unsure for a moment and let the possibilities of that sink in… if we were not so sure what else would we be noticing now… one can be inspired to let go of the reins that hold us and float off into the distance… butt then we have to find our way back home… butt can’t home be where we are… so sure we are that it must be a structure… tempting it is to seize control of the frame and miss the peace that resides within… gifts surround us… and yet we see them as part and parcel of the giving of self… they are and they are knot as we seek… we are and we are not as we appear… some times fully wrapped in veils and the façade and others times stripped to the bare nakedness of our souls… at witch place are we more vulnerable… as witch are we more or less in tune… the world moves us…

We are social beings… at the core of us is that need to share… to be together… that element of us is put aside at times to deal with family… or family becomes the focus of our social network… still we have many aspects to us… we are as one singular an individual entity… we have family… friends… coworkers… acquaintances… teachers… ministers… and in this day and age a cyber social network of contacts… yet at the core we are a singular entity and it is from there that we begin… it is from this central place that we blossom out or retreat to… it is who we are… as we have grown up we have taken on the wonder of friendships and some have stayed… some have faded… that is the course of any life time… we come and we go… the old saying that blood is thicker than water is to say that family is always there while friends will wander in and out of your life… still at least for me friends have felt closer to me… I am the odd duck in the family… shy… quiet… some what artistic… the pieces of the puzzle that does not quite fit in to the conversation and who is set aside from the others… as time has gone on I have become closer to some siblings butt have remain distant from others… it is just the way of things… love is there… but friendship is not… strange how that some times goes… we can’t pick our family… so there is that edge to them…

On our journey we find other souls like us… it is some what difficult for me to grasp that… there are moments when I wonder what if this had never happened where would I be in this circle of life… perhaps in a better way butt perhaps not… the hand of fate touched me and touched the hand of another and we found one another… nature provides for the wonder of being together… if you know me… if you know the way… than it is possible to in a second completely grasp the definition… all awareness comes in an instant… an opening of the inner eye… and we see the soul… you don’t even need to be in the same room… we all need the comfort and security of another soul to rest upon… friend… partner… family… and we find them… some times in the most unlikely of places… I was told once that one has to be prepared for a random act of kindness… for a random act of love and caring… to be prepared for love to knock softly at your door… to whisper as a friend… a companion… or a passionate lover… so often in our lives we are so busy with raising the family and taking care of what is before us at the moment we fail to hear the soft knock… perhaps now when we have a bit more time we should tune up our ears and reach out to those whom we have lost touch with and reconnect the threads…

The journey is the lesson… if we take a slip off of this way for a moment in time and sit under a tree some where in a clearing… this tree this particular on with the wide low hanging branches that shades this bench and just sit next to the trunk with backs rested against the wisdom of the ages that resides within her… and it is a her for all life flows from her… life is what is and she is what is of life that mystical force that sparks the mind to awaken one day and open our eyes and then disappears at some other point and we close them… the journey we are taking is a lesson in doing… in wandering as one… as two… as multiples and then to return to two than one… a series of circles we are… rings of fire water… earth and air… ripples we send out in all directions that announce us… invisible they are to the eye butt the mind grasps them firmly in the palm of any hand willing to see… learn we can to see with our hearts… with our hands… with the words we speak… listen we can with the touch of a finger tip to the beat of a heart… to the vibrations of their voice… sing we can in the silence of the darkness as we dream of time past… present and the future yet to be… whisper in the volcanic eruptions of our passion…

Our journey speaks to us… speaks to the skills e possess and the fire we have… we light our own way in the darkness… we light it for others some times when the depth they find themselves is impossible to open… a single small light can burn and light the darkest avenues… some times we are that spark of inspiration that ignites passionate responses… in my life time I have been inspired by a number of people who took the time to answer… the old saying that many are called and few answer is the message I live… many were invited… few responded and even less could over come the acquired taste… life is not all the day in the life… woke up got out of bed… life some times is the falling into dreams that is so much more interesting…

The present opens slowly… a dance of unfolding peaces of paper… a rip or a tare… a fold to hang ones finger upon as the opening is slipped aside… I wish to be… butt I am more not than I am so… butt I still wish to be…

When two souls of like minds meet the door opens to the flow… the flow rages against the river bed and rises and rises… one has to be careful not to get carried away in the opening of the door… the waters will ebb… they will settle down to a more reasonable tempered even series of words… butt for now the ravaging waters are what excites the pallet…

The gate opens… the door becomes a jar and we walk in only to be captured by the closing of the lid… a fire fly trapped in the illusion of a space… a cage like any other has it limits no matter how we try to rationalize the capture… we all become beasts within the walls of our confinement… walking… pacing… needing to be free of the rope around us… pull we do at the strings that hold us,,, and even more… the gate opens and we leap for to be free is more than the security of the cage…

I prefer the off day to the on day… a day to relax and sigh to the day of nose to the grindstone focus… in fact I focus poorly at times… like now… the day opens… a Monday… a day when my focus should be one place it is in another… typical of a Monday and yet it bothers me because I know it will take longer to reach the end when the mind is twisting in the wind… certain things can twist in the wind… your mind should not… breathe deep the gathering cool… the rain falls softly upon the earth… the gentle patter reminds me of spring… the scent son the air are those of spring butt the calendar surely says winter is still here… it must be Monday… for that is what Mondays do… twist the mind in the wind…

We are all good looking out… or stepping back and seeing the bigger picture when that picture is of another… our picture is usually framed in a very tight perspective… that is not to say that we can’t find the bigger picture when we need to… it just means we have to pull our heads out of our own arses at time to get that view… it is exceptionally easy to tell another how they should navigate their life through the difficult waters… when it comes to us we get side tracked…

My usual thought is that it takes time to take time for oneself… until time takes it from us… what does it take to grant yourself fifteen minutes in the morning… midday… and evening… to just close your eyes and let all thought drip away… a few moments to step back and give yourself the bigger picture… to take a deep breath… fill your lungs… hold it and then let it out slowly and purposefully… for the purpose is to give yourself a few moments to relax… to feel at ease… to just be… there are others times that are yours during the day… the time you are writing… the times you are moving from one place to the other… in fact if we think about it we do spend a lot of time in between things… I wonder what would happen if we used those in between moments for ourselves… to just take a deep breath and let it out…
When we feed the mind we feed the soul… when we feed the heart we feed the mind… when we take a few moments for ourselves we connect with the hue when we are centered and have purpose… some times in the chaos of everyday living we forget that we are a singular hue at the core… taking care of hue allows you to take care of others… a healthy hue is a person with the ability to do for others… it is not selfish to consider your health first and foremost… in that way you are able to be there for another when they will most need you… it does not take a lot to take care of hue… physically… emotionally and spiritually… three fifteen minute moments each day…

We experience the change… on the turning away… the silence takes over the moments that used to be filled with the sounds of voices… the clicking of keys… the exchange of language both spoken and unspoken… theory never replaces reality… the reality proves or disproves the theory… and nothing is perfect in all aspects… there are and will always be exceptions to every rule… we are exceptions to the rules… relationships are exceptions to the rule… art is an exception to the rule… everything we do outside the lines is an exception to the rule… so is it hard to fathom that emotions can be an exception to the general rule at hand… of course it is easier to assume the rule is a strict limit… there is only so much food for thought that any one mind can hold… so to make space we need to push out or off one to find room for another… when the reverse is true… it takes no more time to embrace one as two… it is different in your mind butt that is where the limitation is… we think we know the answers that control the entire frame… what we know is our space limitations… that is all we can know…

Scraps of paper litter my life… colored… drawings… small bits and peaces of reflections… a mirror to my soul at times and pure outrage at the world at others… the dust settles in on some… not so much on others… the birds of my past fly silently across the horizon… I am at peace with me finally… the many times before when the sea of notes raged high and overcast there was nothing for my soul to do but seek the peace that made my being whole… it was one I never knew butt always knew… as all souls friends are and forever shall be… on the scraps of paper that peace together my life one will find attempts to be the novelist… the journeyman idealist… the lover… the dreamer… the artist at times when I was unprepared to bare my soul… unprepared to strip away the pretense and walk naked on the stage… it is a necessity to accomplish the wonder of expression… so many books and articles and desires of passion are expressed in the libraries of our minds and the collection of pages to our hearts… all scraps of paper… messages we sent… hearts we touched… love letters… papers we have written… notes on births… remembrances on passing… who are we except for the expressions we allow ourselves…

Each of us is reflected in the wanderings of our soul toward a means of expression… mine when I was younger rested purely in the lyrics of songs that floated in the air… time and time again song lyrics would express what was inside my being and I could feel the sense within me… measured against such levels as artists who have honed their skills my words never seemed to be measure up… the shortsightedness of youth… over time the need… the desire… know the passion of expression has found its ways out into the world… butt in this art form more than in the poetry or lyrics or a story… every day is the story… every day the unfolding of the mist from my eyes is the story that I seek… yet it comes out as philosophical expressions of encouragement… as words that ask to seek to find to flourish in the connections of souls…

Who am I is a common question for me… to whom am I nestled in… to whom am I an illusion or a figment of the imagination… to whom does the dawn matter to as much as I and the night liner as long… what is it that I do when I let go and wander in the art of my expression… the answers have come and gone and are different with each soul friend I have touched and has touched me… there is a very common thread to the fabric of me when I sit back and look at the tapestry of my life… the pull and the push… the ebb and the flow… the forest and the trees… the water in streams… in rivers… into the ocean… across the span of time and the limits of my time… there is an element of me that is a peace of consistency… it is different with each… and yet similar… perspective… connections… a means to bring one aspect to another… to bridge the illusion with the reality… to take what is deep within the frame and pull it forward to be the central image one sees in the writing on the wall…

The music lingers as a reminder of those who walked with me before… it is the only trace that binds me to them… except for the scent of memories on the wind… the occasional wisp of times past… so strong are the threads that link us that a single touch of a finger tip across the expanse of the world awakens the memories long dormant in my soul… at night I am stirred by the passion for life… the desire for the art… it is the art of giving without expectation… of granting without asking… of letting go so easily and effortlessly that at times others feel abandoned… of being the shadow that moves… that alters the path before it is a barrier… that wipes away the mountain that stands in ones way that opens alternatives to the steep and dangerous walls… there are many avenues to take to reach our dreams… they are not always the best ones the ones we choose to take… the music lingers as a reminder of all the ones before who have felt the pang of time and walked to the sound of their own drummer… we are free to make the choices we wish to make and free to remember what we wish to remember… it takes a force of will to over stand the steps and the leaps of faith at times that we make and expect nothing at all… at times it grabs one by the core of their being and thrusts them hard to the ground and it takes a sentinel being to touch them to remind them that time passes and hearts heal… souls touch and love is eternal… the earth has that knowledge… it is in the music that nature plays for us… that sparks our passion…
Scarps of paper all of it… bits and peaces of my journey to where I am today… a lyric from a song… a quote from a book… a book or series of books that holds my interest… a journey down an avenue of hope… a history of where we have come from… a novel that has nothing to do with reality and everything to do with reality… a shape shifts in the shadows… a wandering soul comes into the forest of trees and exists changed by the journey home… for we all are on our journey home… we sit in the midst of darkness seeking the light that is our own soul… once we find it… it is the light that guides us… follow it and you never go astray of who you are… the gifts we share are simple and unique and magical and spirited and all contained in hue… nothing is mysterious about that or need be explained beyond a touch of heart to heart or soul to soul…

Life is conversation… the concept came to me one day while I was deep in reflection… during my life there have been times when I felt passionate about things and could never open the door to the volcano or release the floodgates that I held within me… time and time again the swirling torrent would rise within my soul and time and time again the old adage to be seen and not heard rose up to stem the tide… some where in life I changed… I can not remember being other wise butt those close to me are fond of reminding me of the old me… quiet shy reflective silent… in my own world… a hermit of sorts… a loner… it is not a secret that I carry not one friend from my childhood to this day and time… conversations are life and if you never have them you fail to create a series of connections… the fabric of my being is very shy and very silent still… it is through this release that I am different than I once was… those who know me… over stand the passion as a wave… a hot flash… a depth in a single sentence that implodes and takes in the full range of their being from top to bottom… the exploration of life is the conversation… it is what I am most passionate about… the tales of the time… I tell my lyrically… as you are aware… there is no right way or wrong way or singular route… there is what you have within your heart to speak… no rhyme or reason… one day it will be silence… another a thousand words… another a single word… and all the ranges in between and outside any constraints one tries to place upon them… conversations are relationships… relationships are the fabric of our times and places… memories… we don’t just remember the times… we remember the people we had the times with… connections come from the most interesting places… I have learned to walk with them for as long as they and I walk the same path and to embrace and rejoice when the time comes to diverge from our time together… we write and we talk and we gather time to ourselves… we share what we experience and that makes each life better and gives us the opportunity to draw on other’s experience in life… perhaps all we bring is an ear to listen in a time when no one else can or will… or we bring an avenue of escape when reality is overwhelming to the soul… or we stand in the road and refuse to move when the wave is so strong it threatens to pull another away… life is the unfolding conversations… the threads we pull together and weave into the wonder of our days…

Sunday morning settles in… a quiet reflective series of moments… that is Sunday… the day of rest for some… a day of anticipation for others… the beginning… the turning over of another leaf… the present… a day of prayer for some… another day in the life for others… it is as all days are… some thing to everyone and never the same thing to each of us… what makes it so perfect is the solitude I find on Sunday morning… the home remains quiet for a little bit longer… a little more restful… it is truly the day of rest and relaxation… a few moments to sigh… to sit and read… to spend writing… planning… pursuing the effortless meandering avenues of the mind… before the work week enters the picture on Monday morning… Sundays don’t come down hard they land softly on the pillow… and mellow… Sundays are breakfasts… dinners… family and home… Sundays are at times like holidays and perhaps they are arranged that way as times to reflect and be thankful for all we have and can share…

The work is an opus… a direction… a musical litany that transports me to from and back again… Kurt Vonnegut said in Slaughterhouse 5 with one of his characters that he had become unstuck in time… able to move from one peace of his life time to another… to know his birth and death… and all aspects in between… to be so privileged and cursed is a blessing in disguise… to have knowledge of is a great responsibility… the opus of a life time reflected in the pages of my mind mirrored in my expressions… I am off to wander in the pages of some and then to open my own…

Reading was not an active past time for me or at least literature… I read what was required of course… the occasional play… novel… books that were assigned… always more in tune to some thing else… now when I read I find the wonder in the pages more easily than in my youth filled days… then it was history that I adored… the history of war mostly a very male thing… I went from reading the historical perspectives to the propaganda and watching the old film reels… to then finding the personal accounts of struggles from the individual’s perspective… to see the difference was life altering… the glory of battle historically painted on a page is not what the individual remembers… when you get to the one on one you get a much more lucid image of the struggle… it is there where I became engrossed in biographies… a singular person… to see the soul beyond the image of public expression was for me important… and I carry that to this day… so when I see presidents… and generals… and so called important figures I seek to find the person with all their imperfections behind the façade the media paints… not to being them down… butt to make them more human… to make them real… as I have gotten older my reading wove into fantasies… Lord of the Rings… Tolkien… a magical journey across the earth created in a man’s mind… the novels of Terry Brooks… and of course J.K. Rolling… who has not taken those on and found a familiar voice of face in their pages… my wandering into spiritual wonders about astral traveling… knights templar… spiritual as it relates to religion… woman… forces of nature… historical records… the foundation of my own religion… the truths and the untruths are difficult to dissect at times… the more you know the more you wonder sometimes… the novels of Dan Brown that made people minds go wild… I felt some reality in them… and I still wonder why… where do you hide the truth… right in plain sight of course… what we need to know to over stand the entire universe is right before our eyes… the question is can we grasp it and over stand it enough to use what we find…

The work is an opus fed by the many avenues of thought… philosophy has always trip my imagination… I never studied it nor am I inclined to at any time soon… I tend to it as part of who I am… not that I can see wisdom in my rambling concepts… in fact I see more illogic in my words then logic… what I do sense is that it is like an impressionists painting… that whom ever reads it walks away with an impression of what I am saying… some times they capture my thought as I imaged it butt mostly they walk away with an impression… an idea… a concept that works for them… and that strikes me as artistic and wonderful… as a student I hated the question what was the artist thinking… my usual response was how the hell do I know I’m not the artist… go ask him you daft prick… now if you asked me what I thought… what the expression said to me… that was the question that interested me… that was the one that allowed me to enter the frame and peer around inside my mind and travel the artists path and walk away with some thing… the work is an opus and today it is here at this cross road wandering along this way and that… seeking to find its way… the present movement is always a work in process the past is the only music that is playable to the audience… where we are is an experiment in notes and paper and art and laziness and passion and desire… some that will work and some that will fall short of reaching the goal of being part of the song that defines me… each artist stuck a chord… for if there is no music for me there is no art… books sing to me… pictures have soundtracks… moments are incased in the sounds of nature as music and joy… is there any sound in life more beautiful than a human laugh or the sigh of a lover… or the deep moan of relaxation… to me it is all an opus… if that is a philosophy than it is mine…

Home is where we are… we travel some times so far away that any step we take is a step toward home… I have gone so far inside away from who I am that I intuitively know that sense of distance… I did not have to travel in the physical world to over stand what being distant is… the logic speaks for itself… depth is the soul… a small element of life yet it contains the universe the entire celestial structure within it… the soul is not within us we are within the soul… and yet the soul is perceived as being inside us… tho0guhts twist a bit when you flip or reverse the perspective… can one be within and without of the same forest… be one with the sentinel being and at the same time be outside the forest… can we be both home and away from home while sitting at home… my mind questions me often as to the logic of such endeavors… butt they never cease to amaze me… I have not the answers to the questions I ask… I only seek to find them for the journey is what delights me…

The joy is the opus as it plays out… ringing in my ears and washing over me… I am the songs that I sing and the records I play… and yet the notes still linger from others and find places in the music that is mine uniquely… if you sing the same songs you are a peace of the history… where will the next not or peace of paper come from that is placed on the wall… what impression will inspire me to write what and where will it come from… I found many a moment in a book… butt mostly I find them in shared exchanges of the open mind…

People see things… at times we are open to them… at others times we close out minds to the possibilities… being of Celtic ancestry I carry with me a belief in the other realm… on both sides of the equation there were those who saw… those who healed… those who knew things… and when we bring in more there are those who still do… if we are open to the thoughts they have possibilities…

Trees are old life forms… the older the more dynamic they speak… you can sit by an old tree and rest your head upon its trunk and if you listen you can hear its life story… feel the energy that pulses through its being…it is not a life form like us… it is more basic butt still the energy is dynamic and very positive… answers to questions are felt more than heard… images appear in the mind’s eye if you are open to the process… a single touch of the trunk or branch… if you have never tried to do so… do… if you have… than you already know what I am speaking of…

People are far from perfect… what matters is if they are perfect for one another and while I have danced with the same partner for going on twenty-seven years and known them for almost thirty-two we are as individuals very different… it is at the core of our beliefs that we are similar… as we see other couples fall apart we are often amazed at how strong our bonds have become… not that life has been easy of effortless… or that we never disagree… we do all the time… it is at the core of our being that we are together… imperfect as we are… that is what love is… she is a soul mate unique and different from the other soul friends and mates I have found… butt I would not be the person I am if not for her and all the rest of them… it is like a mosaic… each small peace is essential to the entire fabric of the image… take any one away and you think it makes no difference… butt in reality it changes the entire wonder of the picture…

Our view is what we make of it… it is not terrible if the view before you is interesting… believe me I could stare at some things for hours and not ever get tired of it… and then there are those views that are just bad… there is no frame you can put around it or near it that will improve the content… some views are best left out of mind and out of sight…

Attitude is a reflection… being from the attitude state of mind… it is not some thing that I find to be a put off… in fact I find it a necessary part of one’s education… or growth… we should never find it necessary to knot hold our ground… people do tend to take offense at it butt they just don’t get it… and for those that don’t get it… who cares… keep the attitude it is worth more than all the gold in the world…

It is difficult to forget where we come from if we are honest souls… we carry all those who came before us in our souls… in our hearts… every fiber of our being is a combination of the paths that have been sewn before… if not for them… we would not be where we are… it is that simple… though some times our society does not see the reverence that time provides… what is new and unique and just coming of age has more sparkle than the older… more refined… think of it as wine… does one desire the newest vintage or the aged smoother variety… I can sit with the older vintage longer and more fruitfully than I can tolerate a new… perhaps it is because I know the new is not listening… some things never change…

One of the many paths we follow turns and dips as easily as the next step… take care to know where you are going some will say while others will run head long and not give a care to the changing landscape of time… I am of the two opinions… there is a time for caution and for throwing caution to the wind… there is a time for all things… when to apply what is the real wisdom of any life… everything in its turn… as the song says and the experience of living provides us with… follow the way of your heart… you may not get where you are going as fast or as directly… butt you will get there in the time you require and you will get there with those who will make your life worth living…

Once gone there are only the words we have put to pen that we can be judged by… once gone our life’s work is etched in some what of a stone case and placed aside… most are gone and forgotten within a generation… some linger in the minds of and hearts for time unmeasured… they are usually artists… not politicians or generals… butt artists… writers… poets… sculptors… painters… musicians… the magic is in the entertainment… the occasional political leader lingers for a time… butt great artistry last eons… what we weave in life is what is left of us… it is all that I am that goes here and what is left plays out on the exterior of my being… Fridays are days of reconciliation… of taking stock of what has been done and planning for what needs to be taken care of when Monday comes around as we know it will… another day rises from the ashes of the previous one and burns bright in the mind’s eye… where we go… what we do… a clear canvas awaits…

Each day is much like an onion… as ogres are like onions so are days like them… as we move though the day we peel back the layers… each one interesting… each one has the potential for some thing magical… or it can be some what distaste full… it depends on how one uses it… that is what we learn as we experience life… as we explore the possibilities… each one single day holds so much potential that if we were to encase it we would have an explosive charge capable of hurling us into deep space… butt they become routine and roll along such that if we are not careful to use them wisely we wake up and wonder just where have all the days gone off to… so peel back a layer of today and savor its potential… make some thing magical happen…

I consider many things… some new… some old… some out in the world… some inside my mind… I ponder a lot of the choices and find my way… I like the road less traveled… or at times making my own way… I once thought in a very strict and organized manner and now I let what comes some and see where it leads me… still cautious though… that is part of me that was learned the hard way… life lessons are the best and some times the worst… they are however what frames us… when we consider things we are opening the door to alternatives that we may knot have considered a possibility… these are the places I wish to explore…

I am a sentimental soul at heart… the world around me is not so easy on that type of personality… on the outside it may appear that I am some what distant at times of illness or death or even births… I am none of that and all of that… to me all aspects are celebrations… where there is room for tears is when there is tragic removal… I can’t over stand the divine plan for me or anyone for that matter… it would be a lesson in futility to attempt it… what I can do is trust and believe that there is rhyme and reason to what happens… and find hope in that… find strength in that… quietly in my own heart and soul…

I am not a religious person as one would define a religious person… my demeanor is more sailor than savior that is for sure… as my wife often will remind me of the appropriateness of language… yet within me there is this element of spiritual focus that transcends a specific religious idealism… I find great comfort in that…

Our peace is standard fare and what one would picture when thinking of typical suburban life… a home surrounded by other homes of similar styles… we are who we are… and we are at home in the place where we live… that may sound strange to say butt it is true… the home picked us more than we picked the home… it felt like ours the first moment we saw it and while we are still struggling with changes and doing the things we need to do… a home is never perfect or finished… a home is always in one state of repair or another… so while it is imperfect so are we imperfect but we share our imperfections for they are what makes is perfect for one another…

Some time ago when my youngest child was in the second grade we were talking about guardian angels… and being my son… his concept of it was not the typical angelic vision… in fact his take was more of a mystical sort of adventure… his question to me was do I have to have a guardian angel… and I said well yes we all have a guardian that looks out for us and directs us unconsciously… he said I know that… with the typical child frown… what I want to know is does it have to look like and angel… to witch I said no… it can take on any form you wish… what ever you are comfortable with…

Now having said that I was fully prepared for what my son would do… or I thought I was… so a few days later I got a call from his teacher and I knew where this had gone… the story goes some thing like this… they had to draw pictures of their guardian angels and put them behind a picture of themselves… so there she was looking down the line of photo with a picture of an angels drawn by the student behind them… until she got to his… as she explained it she was some what taken back… and she said… is that your guardian angel… to witch he replied… “do I look like a kid who has a guardian angel”… he is my son… his picture by the way was a troll… got him down pretty good the little bugger looks just like that…

Speaking of esoteric subjects… when asked about my own… I found that the angel did not work well for me either… being a woods related person… it made sense that my guardian would be more elf like than angel… and this came to mind when my daughter was like 6 or 7 and she said daddy… why do you have an elf with you… now children see things… butt that was freaky… and strange even for me…

There is a peace that resides in me… at the core of who I am and yet still moves out to touch and come back… peace is an internal state of being that transcends the exterior chaos… one can be at peace in the midst of great turmoil… in the face of great injustice and violence… peace is a wonderful desire and wish to behold…

When the dawn rises so shall we to take on the world that lies at our feet… it is fry day… a day for celebration as we turn toward the rest and relaxation of the weekend from the work and toil of the week… I love the potential of Friday as she dawns…

A perfect way to meander… to wander… to let the winds of change blow you in what ever direction comes along… definitely an explorers concept… one I have not tried myself… planning to have no plans… setting aside time to set aside time… some what of a paradox that is… I planned to have no plans so that I can do nothing as planned or some thing unplanned… an unexpected dive into the pool of possibilities is one of the ways I would look at that… a night skinny dip… or a plunge off the high dive… a wild innocent or dream sweep… as long as the plan is one of relaxation and divine wandering within the mind it sounds exquisite…

I am sitting in my office listening the Bee Gees greatest hits… long before there was a Saturday Night Fever mind you… so there is no disco dancing going on here… the slow beat of soft music they really did make some interesting songs… where he words did tell a story… every picture does that I know… for me music does it even better… this particular album is almost thirty years old so it is very nostalgic… I can remember listening to it… almost wore the damn thing out… my music taste span the spectrum… listening to this then to some thing over the top… drive my friends a bit batty… butt that was and is the way I am… a bit out there… songs like wouldn’t I be some one… or don’t forget to remember… how can you mend a broken heart or alive… all have stories associated with them… inside and outside they trace times in my life… they have sentimental values far in excess of the piece of plastic they were taken from… it does not matter to me that the transformation of the files is still a bit off… to be able to listen once again to those lyrics is a trip down memory lane… if must be Friday…