A trip begins… a slow walk along the edge… the sun glows at one’s back sending shadows forward in time… the longer one walks the longer the shadows become… what direction is home… in time the shadows fade… a peace settles in… the moon ascends in the seventh house of gravity pulling light from the hidden sun and shining it along the lane… the walk does not stop nor does the trip… nor do the shadows fade with the sun for the moon is as bright as a morning sun rising… a easy reference to and from the lapse of frame comes wonders cast to the side… a dance begins in the fire light… feet set to the rhythm of the beat of the distant drums pondering the next step in time with time… a frayed page so used it bleeds fibers with every touch… the story book settles in and falls away as eyes tired and worn from reading give in… sleep comes with the steps… until then… until the next time…

The page turns over… a series of them… it takes a lot of preparation to get the peaces together… each has alternative motive for being where they are… some find the castle piercing… others find the stories elusive… each keeps the progress to themselves… as nobles or priestly pageantry parades across the pages the forest becomes the single stone sentinel that we are capable of holding onto… what we don’t know fills volumes in comparison to what we do know more of…

In some situations less is more… the less we wonder the more we can allow our minds to fill the void we believe to be there with some thing else… it is true a picture does tell a story and a picture is worth a thousand words… butt what of imagination… what of the illusion that one sparks with words… thoughts… what of the value of being elusive to the eyes so they begin to create an image… a lot can be said for the tease… it is not the strip that is important… it is the tease that makes all the time worth while…

One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small and the ones that Mother gives you don’t do anything at all… go ask Alice when she is ten feet tall… those lyrics make sense to me… they never did as a kid makes sense… Alice and the looking glass was just after all a fantasy… it has turned over in my mind over time and it is more a metaphor for life… some times you are tall… others small… and some lessons taught no longer have meaning as life changes… there are some stories that are like acid tests for the imagination… can you create in your mind a ten foot tall rabbit… a purple pentagram… a chocolate slide… a door ajar… can we truly fall down a rabbit’s hole… can we climb out and find ourselves tiny and insignificant only to grow so large we burst the seams of the box we are in… a temporal fix… the mind gone wild… the acid test… a drop or two across the mind and let the colors flow in the kaleidoscope… an adventure tripped by the thought of Alice… she of the looking glass mind and mirror held to the world wondering just where do the heads go when they come off… is it the green of hearts of the jack of all trades that we pursue headily… can the worms be tempted to squirm a bit more so the fish are enticed by the movement… life is some times an acid test of questions…

The parade came to town… a single slip danced… she bore witness to the ritual as they walked down the avenue and through the tunnel to the bigger city across the way… a festival parade… it happens in the dark of night as the cities sleep… and everyone who is not aware lingers in their dreams… butt for those who are… one can see the acid does work… and in the midst of a city there are large animals parading down the street…

She sings… the wind… of a plausible alternative… she sings of the tide of change… of the north wind… of southern comforts… or the wisp of some thing cooking… the wind… a breath of Godde that sweeps over the hills to both chill and wrap… she whispers in my ears… the wind… she cries silent tears… she dies and is born again… she moves with a whim… the wind… a silent mover of the air… born of the air… a string… a tumbleweed… a feather lifted… a hammer slammed… a violent streak of light… a whip that frees the hands to hold on tight… for nothing stands before the wind…

The ground holds firm… the earth moves in passing time but holds firm to the challenge of the wind… a shift in the sands does not matter for the earth is not at all fragile or held to one side or another… the wind may move things butt what comes of the earth returns to the earth… what is taken finds its way back in time… that is the cycle the earth rides… a seed grows to a plant blooms and dies returning to the soil from witch it came… all that reside on the earth are of the earth and will feed the earth eventually…

The sign hangs on the edge… a declaration of where we are… a polite way… a manner of invitation… this way… a direction perhaps to walk this way… or just a statement of simple fact… this is whom we are and where you stand… a crossing of the road with your path and nothing more nor less than a fact…

So much and so little… the divide grows… a shift in the tide… a little bit more and the lips will over flow… where do we go if the levee breaks… where do the boats go when the tide goes out and they remain tied to the hitching post… she smiled at my questions… the smile of a learned teacher to a child… butt I am know child… butt I feel like one some times… there are good ways to see the ocean for the trees… butt the forest is lost to me… until I am found nestled in the sands of time… wandering the pathways of my imagination… a frantic journey to some where other than here… who is the adventure for if not for me… never leave the course for another to sail for they must sail their very own… rapid fires wander across the forest… igniting each tree in turn… leaving a burned and soiled ground… until the flames reach the divide and no leaps can reach the other side of the valley as hard as the raging bull tries…

One step closer to the edge of another month… one more step to go and the first quarter page is turned and we enter the warming trend in earnest… there are stages of boredom that come and go with me… places where the same old routine grasps me and I feel trapped in the fluid motion of time… there is peace in my mind butt angst in my soul… as each page turns over to the larger page of weeks and months and finally years it seems that there is change and yet the change I sense in me is less and less… when I step back and take a glimpse over a longer period of time I can sense larger change than perhaps in the moment… a trial of perspectives… a chance to take broader scopes of degrees… the wider the angle of the lens the more scope we take in and perhaps that is the danger of routine… while we are focused to the task at hand we tend to ignore the broader surrounding we could be taking in… though at some point there is over load… butt what is that point… where is the threshold of the reality and the dream and the amount that we can balance before we implode into lunacy of mind… how much is just enough and how much is the over load…

Water seems to quench the thirst butt nothing else will do… after a time the cool is more satisfying than the quantity… the presence is natural… a flow within… more of one substance than another we are… tangible yet we are fluid in that tangibility…

Always knew the time would come around the corner… the notion of forever and always is fleeting in certain kinds of relationships… conduits are aware of the nature butt still we fall prey to the thresholds… we are not immune to feeling as some would take us to be… we are not heartless or soulless or cold stones… we are in fact quite the opposite of all of that… a certain attitude prevails in those of us who connect one to another… much like a seamstress we thread one to another… there always comes a time when the thread is no longer required to hold the two as one… and slowly the page turns over and each goes their own way… it begins with sporadic silence… followed by a rhythm of solitude that eventually leads to silence of an uncomfortable nature… having words to say that will not cross the open divide… until the veil descends… it is not always necessary butt mostly it is not easy to handle more than one desire at a time in any ones life… so choices are made and promises tendered and souls mated to one another… those bonds are respected… and the veil falls darker and more distant… each day a silence… each week a void… each month a cavern… until the space between is a pleasant occasion of what once was butt could never be… and reality moves us on… happiness becomes the point… happiness is the core of what happens… and so it goes… that happiness is the true measure of what direction one should go… some times we have to love what is good for us and forget the rest… that is a very important concept to have and hold onto… love what is good for you and let go of the rest… that is perhaps some times easier said than done… we are incapable of choosing whom we love… it happens… we find and we fall… and while we may wish to love another because they are more suitable or more available to us that does not lesson the love we have for the other… what separates us is the other forces that exist in the world… distance… time… that are insurmountable challenges even in a world as small as ours is today… the fabric of my being is loose and tossed across a chair… we speak with silence more easily at times than we do with words… so much more eloquent silence is… at times a void… at times a shout across the emptiness of one’s soul… at all times it is a signal of choice… of a change in the road ahead… silence is a means to separate the paths that must be taken… it is the realization that one’s way is not the others and the sooner the better… conduits are aware of the connections they help make and maintain… we are aware of the choices that are required and of the patterns of change that flow like water in a river toward a greater good or better state of mind… the search for happiness never ends with hands that makes you aware butt with the connection to the one that makes you glow with the fire within…

I am quite aware of the trails of my style of correspondence… I am very much a free rambler… I fail in a lot of ways and times to hold the fluid forces in check… the water flows weather I choose to hold my fingers or knot… the choice is not mine it seems… the fire breathes within me and the inferno rages… the cold rain is vaporized… the winter skies have changed to spring time blue and grey… clouds wade past… the tunnels fill and the voices of past times speak to the solitude… turn the colors on… the choice is yours mine and ours… and each has a say… or so they say…

Moonlight… a nickname… a means to shadow… to wander in the dark butt still see… a saying that speaks of alternatives… of another task one takes on after the principle one they have… moonlight is the sun shining in darkness… a candle in the shade of time… or a promise that not even death can take away a chance to do some thing we desire with all our hearts… some time the moonlight is not only alight butt a promise that we can… I have been struck by the light of the moon and fallen prey to its rise and fall… and in the stillness of the night played with the colors as they danced across my pillow… the fabric of my desire is not simple… it is sliced with threads and while it may seem as one thing it is quite another… hope is not an easy state to pass on or to grant another… it is a slow some times impossible path… some times life sucks the hope out of us… voids us of the chance to breathe… and yet we find glimmers of it… all sliced or threaded by single kindnesses… that we wrap ourselves within…

The hills are in the eyes of the beholder… what one sees as a hill to a plains dweller is a mountain… the difference is one’s perspective… my knowledge of height speaks to me of hills more than mountains… though they are called mountains I suspect in comparison they are more hills than anything else… truth be told the definition does not matter much at all… what matters is the change from smooth shore to rocky peaks in a matter of a few miles… a forest of pine barren and desolate to the bogs filled with berries to fields of corn shimmering in the warm summer breeze to the calls of the cows to come in from the pastures… all condensed within a few square miles and moments…

Some find a moment each day… others multiple times during the day… others an occasional note every day or so… and than there are those that flit in and out like the wind… my preference is to share with those who would like to share the moments in what ever way they choose… no worries at all… if the fields are fertile the seeds sown will grow to be harvested at some point in time…

The time we have moves on with or without us… we can sit aside the road and watch as time goes by or we can choose to participate in the days as they unfold… the filed of any dream is tended by the hand that wishes to prosper the most from the harvest of the dreams some day… we all want to be with another at some time… funny how often we find ourselves alone… and even within a crowded home that fact can be so very true and pertinent…

Cause stirs effect… the hand opens… the hand closes… the door rings and stands ajar… the lid slaps closed… once inside the world changes… for once inside we are trapped within our own perspective of things and how they should be… if you truly wish to reach beyond you need only reach beyond yourself for a glimpse of the world as another senses it… what is the cause… for it will have effects of one kind or another… for each step there is an action… then a reaction… and so on… one word leads to another… and so on…

When you read closer you begin to extract from any one peace the core of one’s beliefs about life… anything a person writes or commits to their mind defines them if for only a second in time before they realize they need to move on… some times the forces in play take a person on a wave and they are incapable of extracting themselves from the popular thought of the day… many lives have been lost over history due to popular thought… the dark ages were notorious for trends in popular thought that removed life from the souls for reason that was not reason at all… when the realization finds you move on… butt be aware that moving on can be as hazardous to one’s health as standing still in the face of an oncoming wave…

We find places in our lives… we find the proper place for all thought eventually… the older we get the easier it becomes to let go… to let the memories fall away into their proper place… we can have what if thoughts as long as we put them away when the time comes to move on… at some point we all have to move on and take up the yoke of our own existence and dance with the demons we create… all that is ever asked of us is to live to the fullest we can… the only true sin is to ignore this and to live less than we are capable of… to knot share… to knot enjoy our existence… life is for living we have heard that time and time again… and it is true… life is for living… not for regretting that witch we did not do when we had the opportunity to do so…

The difference is quality… one media provides nostalgia… the other a superior quality of sound… the nostalgia cannot be over looked for its pure joy and flash back to other times and places… times do change and with it the quality of the product we are using… so there fore it is advantageous to move forward in time and get that witch was on one media to another… some by purchasing duplicates… others by converting the old to the new format… this is what is a daunting task… for the old has collected for some time over many years a variety of possibilities… and these possibilities are varied… or them seem to as the process of conversion begins… I know the more I do the more I will learn how to do it better and better… so that some that I do at first will be of a lesser quality than the ones I do later after I master the process by witch the product is cleaned up and stored away… it is a labor of love for sure… and one in witch the memories will flow like a raging river at times…

There must be time set aside for the delight and the necessary… there is that talk of balance once more… time to just do some thing because we wish to and time set aside to take care of the necessary tasks at hand… a delicate balance that is for sure butt a very positive one… progress is made by giving ourselves the benefit of the doubt… time is fleeting as we have learned… anyone who has lived into adulthood and has children and watched them grow knows that time is butt a wisp of a scent on the air it is gone that quickly if we fail to take moments to grasp and hold onto them… so when time allows take the deep breath relax and sip a cup of tea… collect your thoughts and then set a course and go…

The moments have been slow of late… slow to move… slow to respond… slow to lift my head off the comfortable pillow… too much comfort does not make for a good day… too much of any one thing distorts the meters by witch we measure… so I am aware of the slight over the line enjoyment I am having… once some one settles into the pattern they feel relaxed in true progress is made as they can now focus and set their course… this is evolving in my life… knot so much for me butt for those in class around me… my course is the one that has taken up the tasks left hanging around… more domestic than anything else… I take enjoyment out of the small elements that life brings along my way… so the moments slow down and if I take care to accomplish things each day I find that I am less hassled on the weekends to get it all taken care of… this weekend being a holiday one will certainly be a trial in some ways… in others we have to just put our minds to getting the tasks done early and effectively…

All thoughts have an expression or spark that can ignite the imagination… sparks are flashes of light that when struck in the correct kindling will produce light… what kind of light depends on ones desire and inclination… that is the ambiguous nature of words and what syntax they will follow in our minds… simple words can twist or turn a conversation to the alluring nature easily at certain moments while at others they defy the same inclination to do so… being in the mood is critical to the threads we weave… enticed we can be butt only if we are in the correct frame of mind to be so enticed… the fire can burn for some thing and we can be hot for some thing else entirely… so what fire do we bring to the kindling… the fire to burn it completely… or the fire to nourish it…

If I was to describe it… I would say that the most difficult part is to started… after that one just lets out the clutch and coasts and worries about the road ahead not about the speed or the brakes or anything other than steering along the road that comes up to meet you… turns… paths… interstate highways… road signs up ahead… drifts off into the twilight zone are all part and parcel of the experience once one has gotten started and moving… what pieces are thrown away… or left on the editing room floor can be debated over and over… there are a select few that for the grace of their patience get an unedited version… while others require due to their limited abilities a strictly edited version… and then there are all varieties in the between… so perhaps what this is… is more of a running dialogue than a rambling letter… I do write to the person sitting across from me… so some times when silence is a pervasive element it is more like two like souls enjoying one another’s company so deeply that words need knot be shared… it does not make sense to say that across time butt in time with another we have all felt the perfect moment where words are not necessary… all that is required is the presence that comforts the soul…

The dialogue of time changes at the scent or wisp of some thing in the air… each breath we take aligns the fabric of my soul in certain directions… I feel the words more than I think them… in fact I rarely design a layout of a page even when I should… I trust in the natural progression of my thoughts to get me where I need to be… perhaps I should study more and process more butt than it would not be as much fun and relaxing as it is… though more people would probably enjoy reading what I write… or at least listening to what I write… for there are many outside the walls that express momentary interest in what is inside before running away screaming madness… knot their own mind you butt mine… for to them I am as mad as a hatter… because I fail to structure and dot as they were instructed and use words they are used to using for the quality of their enjoyment… butt what I keep saying is that it is not for the quality of their judgment that I express… it is because it is there… what is worse to have some thing linger in doubt or to bring it from the dark to the light and at least at the very minimum say… this is what lingers in my mind and my heart… just so you know… there will in all ways be those who fail to grasp the joy of release… that one can take an art form and use it to relieve the stress that occurs from moment to moment… day after day the world takes on the attitude of spirals… tight and clenched between the teeth… and then the spring happens and we release ourselves from the winter of planning and discontent… we know summer and fall wait us so we read Joyce and swim amidst the words with vigor and relish the thoughts that come to mind… trip me oh lance that I may be impaled on the sword that holds me… a target is employed… set into motion and destroyed or captured… where does the ship go then… to sea for all ships go to sea eventually…

The process is not one that has continuity or form nor does it embrace a formula that one can follow or flavor or define as routine other than the dots there are in all ways dots cutting across the page in detail from one wild flash of insight to another and before one can gage what for or how the dots move you… so take a ride with me on this some what magic carpet ride and see where the frayed edges take us for the carpet is old and well worn by many rides into the imagination or not just imagination… rides inside the workings of a often tired and relaxed mine… or is that mind… the theory is that to get from one hat to another one simply has to take off the one and put on the other to be properly sorted out we need only ask… we have free will to go from one place to another… we have the power to choose our destiny at times and not to just blindly accept what is before us as being inevitable… we can and are capable of making progress even when faced with walls not scaled in centuries… progress is determination… we become the force of nature that makes the waves and the ripples that others respond to… each has their own progress… much like a kings ability to wander about with an entourage… we have the force of a rolling stone moving down hill… once put into motion the force picks up speed at a very good rate… every picture tells a story and every force as a reaction some times equal and some times opposite butt it does get your attention when the rock strikes the wall right next to your head because you were looking forward when the stone came from behind… not all the worlds walls are from in front of us… some we grow internally… others follow us and at night sneak up and surround us so that when we wake in the morning we wonder… just where did this wall come from… and we spend the first few minutes opening doors and windows to let the sun shine in so we can get a glance at what lies within… for what lies within distorts what is going on outside doesn’t it…

Sparks fly at times because sharp edges come into contact with flint or stone f the like that send a spark of intense light into the air… it that spark lands in the right kindling it sets a fire… that image reminds me or how art comes into being… the spark set off by the striking of a thought on a surface releasing an intense light that contains all one needs to create a master peace of art if the flame falls into the right mixture of kindling that will nourish the flame and allow it to grow more and more power full and intense with time and patience a roaring inferno develops that feeds the creative fires that we all possess… and sets into motion a passion for creativity and a desire for more each day… sparks fly all the time… jut so very few find the right kindling to burn… most fall on barren ground and fail to ignite…

Does the car drive me or do I drive the car… how do I get from home to here and back again… how does it all unfold without me remembering the travel from point one to point two… a perfect routine it has become because I know longer have to think it through in any detail… the road to unlimited structure is there… we think we want to wander it butt we don’t have the internal focus to travel such a road… that road takes a person of good moral fiber for the temptations are great and the price is one’s soul…

Watch and you will see… a lot can be seen if you watch… many a person should just watch for a moment before they open their mouths… time and again the watch is what is the difference between being where one should be and where they are… they forgot to watch closely what they were doing and remained for to long of a spell… and then they were late because they did not watch where they were going…

The reins fall aside as the night lingers on… the path is followed in the moon light regardless of direct contact between… so let the reins fall away so that the path is a slow and meandering trot… they sort of know where to go… some times we have to trust the road before us to get us there… and when we get there we have to rest for a spell… just sit in the moment for a time… let the heat of the day pass and the cool of the night linger… the press to reach some where fast is not a page in my current book… the slow and measured pace is my tempo at this time and place in my adventure… the fire stands apart and a place… the heat lingers and the thoughts still spark…

There is this thing about me… that twists and turns and finds the eye of the needle and the cortex of the storm… I don’t sit in the stillness a lot and not speak… I move… I bounce perhaps is a better term… therefore the reason behind the name becomes a parent… my mind does wander a bit with questions… with thoughts that flash in and out… I am erratic and impulsive… and thoughtful… I am not looking for anything or anyone and yet I am seeking some thing in the exchange… the mind can lie… create illusions that don’t exist… and the mind can alter a truth into a lie… a small measure of truth is all it takes… my usual course is to allow the foundation of thought to build over time… and then to open the door a bit… and see what happens… stir the stew so to speak and add this and that until you have some thing tasty that makes sense… one has to walk in life to exhaust themselves… and when a hand reaches out you accept what is there butt there are questions to be asked… mortar to be mixed with the bricks each day upon day so that over time a foundation exists… we build things with words… an existence or a picture of one… where does the road lead… to the future… what is that… tomorrow… it is that easy and that difficult to extract… a ripple swims out from a central point and slowly reduces in force until it vanishes beneath the waves… drop a pebble in and start it all over again… some days the fabric is deep and rich others it falls short… what today is depends on the responses one gets…

Unique observations… a chilling sequence… a tingle up ones spine for a time… the cold winces at the touch of heat… the fabric tears… the ice melts the spring… she dances in the silence of the cavern… a whisper of shadows felt past and present… a single tear drops… a single wave rolls to the shore… a pool aches in response… the quiet solitude of patience wavers… a bridge unfolds from the other side to rest easily across… one need only step on and walk across to get from one side to the other… where does it go… some where over there beyond ones view… the here and the now suffer little by the touch of the future… only the past changes focus as time goes on… the flux of life alters the future at rates we are unable to fathom… single instances send ripples of change we could not anticipate… and yet we wish to hold everything as being in complete focus… we wish to have answers that are solid and held to the highest level of scrutiny and yet we fail to test or be tested for under the same light of truth… after the fact there is always room to blame others for what we fail to recognize ourselves… and who is more qualified to deal with me than me…

A lure is a the promise of a prize… whether it is or not depends on how one is captivated by it… a slight hint of something that allows the mind to wonder or the imagination to stir and create more and more and build up a potential can lead to an explosion sooner than ones would desire this explosion of captivity is both a pull on the lure and a realization of being trapped by the same string that holds one to another… there are many lures or trips to our sense that are alluring… is it bait as one would say… or is it a prize that we seek to gain… this debate has raged since men and women have looked across at one another and wondered… is one captured by the other or lured in and the prize won… is the allure bait that traps the unsuspecting participant or is the allure the prize that one gets by reaching beyond themselves… each will have their ideas about this… love is often described in youth full terms by the degree of capture… they are mine… or my… you belong to me… these affectionate terms only go to underscore that either could be the truth… it is my belief that one does capture the heart… the soul of another before the physical… there are more things involved then the capture and submission… and just because we are aware of them or not does not lesson the degree by witch we participate… be it the promise of a prize of the taking of the bait if we stir the magic and the magic alights than does it matter… what we are aware of being wiser and mature of mind is that many times the allure stirs the magic in an instant that leaves a void… it creates a space… flames some times burn bright hot and dissolve the embers they seek to stir in a blinding flash… what one desires is a simmering… constant rumble of fire that heats one desire and passion that can flare up and scorch the skin to light and then settle back to burn in a slow boil ready to spring forth at a moments turn… that is what lures we set and what prizes we wish to both give and receive…

The pattern for me is sketchy… perhaps I donut have a pattern at all… just strings and illusions… a puppet master of my own making…

Scent two mints are best taken carefully… after all if one is a scent two mental soul they will linger longer in pools or puddles that others with simple wade through and be done with… a time for every thing I am told… so there must be a time for the adventure of sentiment… or perhaps knot at all… dreams… desires… longings… wishes… all fall into play with a sentimental soul… dangerous it is to be one… for the heart strings can be played and if we are not careful they are strummed by others to our disadvantage… so be it… if that be where I am at times then that is a sign to me that life has not passed me by… that I still can linger in a moment passed and find solace in a memory… a question… a flicker of a moment that lies to me… I know they lie to me… all memories are colored in some way or another… so they become a bit a truth and a bit of fantasy… until the truth is only the beginning of the tale… the rest is a longing or desire of what one would have liked to occur butt such is life so to speak… a does of want or desire and a large measure of reality…

Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it… and in getting one thing we lose another… that is the natural progression in life… for each new thing we take on we must eventually let go of something we now have… be it a belief or some thing tangible… it is called growing up and we all do it… we all learn how to progress from one stage in life to the next… we do so at times kicking and screaming… and at other times by just walking along with time… nothing stays the same forever… in fact the process of change is exponential… the more we move ahead the faster change goes… until change passes us by and by… and we settle in to the way things are for a spell and wake up wondering just where all the time has gone off to…

Time is the moment you are in… the past being moments you have already had… the future is time you are yet to have… and the present is the time now… just now… this particular moment is the time… as soon as it arrives it is gone that fast and becomes a past time… so be careful how fast you wish time to move… place on the other hand is more tangible… unless you speak of an internal state of mine… in that case anything goes… butt for the practical moment the place is a tangible space… a room with a view… a stairway to know where in particular… a walk… a run… a wild free romp some where… so you have time because it is now and you have a place because you are some where… there for you have time and place… and in life we find there is always room for one more on the road to some where…

Many are the threads we use… colorless at first as we gage the present moment… hues tend to differ over time… the older the patterns the richer the hues become in the mind’s eye… what may seem invisible to the youth for they are blind to the texture is deep and rich to the practiced eye of the skilled artisan… the cloth comes to life as time passes and the memories held within unravel when wrapped around…

Care is what we do… taking care is what takes up a good portion of our days and nights… we take care of our families… our loved ones and relationships… we take care of the work we do and the home we live in… we take care to maintain all the necessary things within our life… yet some times we miss some thing… some times we miss taking care of ourselves… probably because we were always taught to think of others before ourselves… to be self less… in my experiences as I have wandered through time I have found that the most enjoyable people are those that take care to take care of themselves… so that they are capable of caring for others… so I will take care to take care and be well for after all enjoying life is what we are suppose to be doing…

Conversations with me have the habit of wandering along for a spell and then taking a turn over or around… having flipped or bent back upon oneself toward or away from the edges to the middle then back down the side over the river across the field to the top of the tree only to find oneself standing one step further in from where they began to do it all over again knot in the same sequence or even in a pattern at all just letting the words take you where ever they take hue… the land of lakes and rivers flows… the trial is not of wandering butt of expressing what one senses… the art of communicating and it is an art is simply the ability to trust that one’s words and expressions will convey the message that rests within… the words get me… knot perfectly butt some times they encapsulate me… it used to be songs from the past would express my mood or state of mind… butt in reality it was my imagination they sparked… it was the desire within they stirred that I ignored for so long before taking up the sword or pen in my case to pursue my own reflection… there was a muse who started it… she still lingers a bit… why is it that all muses appear in the female form… is it because we males will respond to them easier or more readily… there are muses to satisfy… Goddes to tender… and words to pursue… it does seem to me at times that I am pursuing the words… writing them down as fast as they appear within my mind… some times faster than I can write… or type in my case… the sparks are flying off the keys as the rapid fire spreads across the page… each month I keep all the words I have written… just placed together in a file… I am amazed at times how many pages I can fill… and some times when I actually go back and read some of it… it is actually interesting… there is a lot of dribble mind you butt there is some interesting thoughts between the dribble… even a blind pig can find a acorn… or is that a truffle…

Patterns develop from each hand… each tends to their strength and their own likes after a time… it takes a strong hand to coax the other out of what is comfortable to take on the challenge of something new and different… we tend to like what we like and stick to it… routines are lessons well learned soft and familiar… we are good at them and they comfort us… each hand takes a loop around the other and knots the ends together… familiar over time to the tones and rhythm of the other… sounds speak louder than words some times… the rate of breathing… the soft scent of air… the fabric comes to life and plays across ones imagination… what ifs and other questions pop in and out of one’s mind and wander along the edges… all life stories are love stories I am told… all adventures worth taking are the ones where love is the central theme… the quest is to find him or here and to win them over… so much easier to do in the imagination then in the real world butt knot so daunting as one believes until they find some one… it happens just like that… fabric touches… sparks fly… dreams begin… magic happens and suddenly there is that click of connection that we all hear… that we all fail to be able to explain beyond the moment… a sweet dream once happened and now try as we might we are unable to repeat it other than to know it was sweet and dear and unforgettable… at least we think so…

I miss the air of humor that lights across the wilderness of my mind when I am tripped… I miss the fabric of illusion that at once torments and in a second is alluring to the mind… a stretch of the imagination is all one gets to share… for outside the pond is frozen in the stillness… nothing moves butt the air we breathe and in New Jersey that is smoking and that is not allowed… so what can we do if we can’t even breathe… follow the lead… follow the tide… follow the ocean to the stream that winds to the river that ends in the road that takes you home… there is know place like home… unless of course you are in Kansas…

Being anything is a blessing… at times we all look over the other side of the yard and wonder what if… would we do anything different… would we trade any of what we have for some thing else… probably not… butt still we wonder what if… that is human nature… we do tend to see the darker sides of things… what we don’t have yet… I think that is typical of people myself included… with everything I do have I find myself wondering or wanting some things that I still have not managed to get… that as I said is human nature… we are never satisfied with what we have for very long… or I should say it is a very unusual person who is… the tendency is to crave more or at least to stir the pot in that way… lately I find that I am most happy just relaxing… for so many years we ran around from one place to another with the kids that it is nice to just be able to take deep breaths in between the activities…

I have come to the conclusion in my wanderings that when the time is ripe things happen for the best… we find what we are seeking… it just takes a bit of time to realize what we have… again fate does not always grant us our desire… only our needs… so can be so good at that… that perhaps we miss the wonder of the arrival… for me the ship has in all ways been a peaceful one… the well worn comfort of familiarity is all around me and I am very thankful for that… my life is some what blessed… we have avoided a lot of ups and downs that others have experienced… not that I deserve it mind you I have just been luckier then the next person I guess… and that is the truth of it… a great deal of what happens to us is pure luck… being at the right place at the right time… or perhaps some of the luck is bad… not getting some thing can define a change in a person as well as achieving some thing… there are instances in my life that not reaching the desire goal actually gave me the better result… so you never know what tomorrow will bring… so you have to live today fully and hope and work and have confidence that what ever comes your way you can handle…

Of time capture in the fabric of time that is slowly day upon day pasted together until a room is filled with years of tapestries that line the walls from top to bottom… from one end to the other and back again… each a lesson in patience… in allowing time to ease one into the rhythm of the relationship shared… some have the rough edges of a beginning that are good butt lack the strong texture of the recent more experienced panels… over time we learn how to approach the cross stitches and the seams… allowing the more talented hand to guide the fingers of the other… the earlier ones are a race to show ones prowess… the later are shared in comfort with neither one nor the other competing butt complimenting…

This cup of tea has many flavors… this cup of tea enjoys the latitude and the longitude of being many different varieties of tea… from the strange an esoteric to the strong foundation one can put a foot upon… being so many things is a challenge for others to place a frame upon and people like to frame their relationships… they like to put a title or a caption under an image and say this is what this is… with me that is not possible… with me that is impossible for just when some one believes they have a frame that fits we enter into an entirely different realm and their image of me changes… for the most part I keep the waters steady and the boat on an even keel… I have learned knot to rock or to tip the boat over as much as I used to… learned skills all… I have been writing this way for a number of years… more than I care to remember… a lot of water under the bridge I am afraid to admit… butt I have learned from each… and those I am corresponding with now reap the rewards of the passing of time and the lessons learned…

Walls and bridges… moats and mortar… windows… open to the elements so that the air can allow the keep to breathe… the length and the breath open and close as we take in each breath and let out our inner mind… we are walls… we have bridges and we have secret passages to the garden within where we sit in studied silence in like mind… for only those of like mind can enter… only those of like mind can walk beyond the walls without being held at bay… they just can… it is that simple and easy… there are those who can and those that are unable… who one is and who the other is as mysterious as any mystery on earth… yet people connect instantaneously without prior knowledge of one another… soul friends… so perhaps they have met in a different life time… twins from a distant past… siblings from another time and place and maybe even in rare cases an old love… I have had one of those experiences in my life rather I have had a few where the chemistry is so intense you can cut the air with a knife… it was very unnerving… until many years later I read about soul mates… and soul friends and I realized what it was… they had the keys to the walls and the bridges so they walked right in because they had been in before and knew know different… the unsettling thing is that some times we wish some one to connect and they don’t… then there are those that do… and perhaps I should be thankful for the ones that do and take up the challenge…

As time has gone on I bathe in heat more and more… heat is a luxury to me a balm… a sensation that makes my skin shimmer and glow… heat has that sensual connotation… a very male slant that is butt a true one… heat lingers on the body… the mind and the heart and soul… heat stays with you a bit longer… rests inside the memory banks… it is something I fondly remember as I have gotten older… the children may think we are too old to think as we do butt I for one disregard their turned up noses and allow myself the pleasure of being eighteen any time I desire…

The lingered edge… frayed by the passing of time… by the many hands that turned the page over and over… a book whose binding is broken and the pages ready to fall free… well used… well worn by the many eyes that have read and reread… books are all things to all people who adore them… the newness of a new book the scent of the new pages to the musty old leather bound ones that feel in your hands… there is so much in the edges… the finger prints of time and time again hands that turn the sheet over and under and leafed though to find and in joy follow the characters as they wander though… I linger on the edges for time and time again… waiting for the snap of a connection… a slip of the hand in release… we begin on the edge and we flow into the middle before ending on another edge some where in time… so much of the character of life is found on the edge… who we are… what our beliefs are… what degrees we are willing to stand up for and against are all formed along the edge… the edge is a sacred place where an individual rises or falls…

A mother’s hand when ill is as comforting as the womb itself… that presence soothes the mind and puts us at ease… even as adults when we are sick having some one watch over us is helpful and comforting… it does make us feel comforted… in my house I am usually the one who does all of that… I would sit up with the children when they were ill at night… mostly because I could sleep sitting up… and more practically because when one was sick there was still two others that would need to be taken care of… and be it mom or dad… having some one there makes us feel we are not alone…

We only know the purpose or truth of our lives when we have crossed over… it is then that all the what ifs are answered that we are capable of over standing the choices we have made and the direction our life has taken… only when we dance the last dance are we aware of the pageantry that has gone on… we have inklings of it from time to time… butt never are we fully aware of Godde’s plan for us…

The strings are passed one across the other… a sentence here and there… a paragraph of though intertwined in the landscape… a peace flows from one side to the other to be sewn into the tale… an adventure can be had in the folds of the cloth… the untangling of the brambles from ones garments… by the fire side warm and wrapped it is easy to enjoy the night sky with all the stars and lights twinkling down… the eyes have the capacity to be evenly insight full and blind… we tend to envision what we believe… so much so that believing is seeing more often than the opposite… the adventure is life… not a peace of life butt the entire envelope that life is… all that it encompasses… including the walks down hill as well as the ones up hill… life in all things seeks balance… a measure of one to another… the forest and the sands of time… all life began in the sea so it is knot a wonder why we all hold the sea as unique to our minds and hearts… just another string… another seam to sow…

We are coerced by penalties… or sin taxes to go in a particular direction… to a certain extent I do believe that certain taxes are required for a civilization to exist… there is a need for the common defense for the only constant in human history is the quest for power over others… we control ourselves by the penalties we will pay for not doing what is right… there fore we have what are called sin taxes… or use taxes… penalties for using the forbidden or for using the services… a use tax is one that is applied to say gasoline to fund the upkeep and repair of the roads we use to get from one place to another… a sin tax is the one placed on tobacco or liquor… things that adults use and some times abuse… these taxes only effect us when we consume the products they are placed upon… the more government we have… by that I mean the more people the government employs the more revenue is require to fund the salaries… benefits and retirements of those in that service… now realistically the only government service I have ever seen that is productive is the military and they don’t make money they just kick ass… there is not one agency that makes money or is profitable… in fact most use money so poorly that to think they are better providers is ludicrous… yet time and time again we allow government to slip further into our lives… lets not speak directly of any one thing… lets speak just of what our founding fathers envisioned… life… liberty and the pursuit of happiness… and of these lets just take one liberty… witch is the freedom to makes ones own choices… to decide for ourselves what we wish to do… we ourselves do a much better job of handling our finances then any agency does… we care much more for our fellow citizens then any agency can… in fact that has been proven time and time again… so what is our fascination with allowing another to watch over us… what is the fear of allowing the government to do what it actually does best… set rules… proved regulations… and letting the competition begin… letting us all choose for ourselves… perhaps we do need another revolution of the sort that lets the systems we have erected crash down around us so we realize how much things actually cost… so when we look at adding another person to the government payroll we understand that it is millions of dollars we are going top pay over the life of that person… I believe we can find better ways to deal with change… better ways to stir the ideology… then I am more practical than the next man… or the political man… who’s concern is not what works… butt what works to get them elected and once elected… what works to keep them in office and on the public dole… there is a reason it is called politics… poli meaning many… tick a blood sucking insect… politics is the realm of many blood sucking insects to be sure…

Interesting take on the same theme… one speaks of modern and one of long time ago… the present is in taking care of what today is… the present is the unfolding of each moment to sift from it the best of what it can offer us… some times we spend a great deal of time on the darker side of the moments we are wrapped in then in taking the time to alter our perspective… rain is cold and wet and does chill us at times… it also provides for the flowers and the trees and the food that we eat… not to mention it is what we are required to drink to survive… a lesson in listening to both sides of the argument… both sides of the equation for they do bring balance… while we may at times have a bit too much of the rain at any one time we would never wish to be without it… the same is true of the forest… they can be daunting to the soul that is not used to the ebbs and flows of its nature… the absence of direct light… the beauty of the canopy above… it is not however all wonderful… within the forest hides more then just trees and woodland creatures… so it does make us wary of our next step…

Having done some thing once enables a soul to do it again… the second time is a much easier course to take… having already pass this way before we are more inclined to a path… this is a method often used to deal with first time instances… there are however some things we can practice butt we have no idea what it is like until we actual do… we can come close to the reality… butt the reality itself is beyond our comprehension… war is one of those situations… fire… earth quakes… they happen suddenly and without warning and we have to react… our reactions falls back to how we are or were trained… we all have fear in certain situations… the difference is that if we are prepared we can deal with the fear in a way that does not reduce us butt raises us up…

A lot is being made of politics lately… my mind is such that I fail to trust either element of the debate… my position is more conservative… my ideals are more toward a republic a democratic idealism… I dislike cloudy legislation that is left to interpretation and policed by large government agencies… they tend to see the many and penalize the individual… the concept is a good one… provide for the common good… what is better than providing for good health and well being… nothing… except that part of health and well being is not only bodily health and well being it is also conceptual freedom… people will choose to do what is in their best interests when given the choice… some times they act foolishly… negatively… taking up habits that are destructive and in the long run life shortening… they live for the moment and ignore the long term benefits… a young adult does not see beyond the horizon like some one in midlife with children does… force never works in these agendas… force enables rebellion… we rebel against the hand that presses on us the more it presses the more we rebel… that is human nature… some times good intentions lead us not to freedom and good health butt to a hell of rules and regulations that strip away all we are trying to accomplish… the best path will in all ways be in my opinion the path that gives the individual the maximum freedom to do as they choose… even if that choice is to say no…

All that lies is diversion… or division… there is that line that we walk… sometimes solid… some times dotted… sometimes it is a brief indication of a direction… at others a forced direction… the party of the first part is aligned with the party of the second part in this… yet it is solid and open… closed to some extent and open to the wildest set of possibilities we can have… I am both lost and the finder of where I am… the perpetual sailor on the sea and the wanderer in the forest… each tugs at the heart strings… each is a peace of the entire puzzle… and each resides in the same swirl of energy as the next… a twig drifts on the ocean and rolls with the waves… is cast to the far reaches of the world… a seed is dropped from high above the mountain and finds its way all the way to the sea where it rests on the shore… improbable as that may seem… it happens… day after day… year after year…

The day dawned gray… storm clouds in the distance rumbling… the wind with that cool chill that begs one to seek shelter… it will be a wet day today… a cold wet spring day when what we need is the opposite… the rivers run high still after a weeks time… and the threat of more rain and wind does not make one feel secure on their islands… for the most part the world is a dry and secure place from the ravages of water… we are lucky to be in a place where one can slip into the streams at a moments notice… perhaps I am some what pessimistic about the effects of this recent rain… damp and cold are not my best sensations… the promise this time for afterwards is for sun with cooler temperatures more to the level of early springtime… the unnatural high tended to remind me of summer… a lot of time can be spent in the summer heat just relaxing and feeling the warmth soak into your skin… spring is more fickle… one day warm… the next cold and rainy… followed by snow or perhaps another wave of heat to entice the senses…

The eyes have it… what they have is perhaps a stability… that is what is hoped and prayed for… a place not to the left or to the right butt directly in the middle of the road… normal would be nice for once… a normal view of the road that rises up to meet my feet… in the long run of time… the feet will move me… the fingers will touch… the ears will hear and the eyes will see what they can… all roads lead some where… where that is exactly deepens on ones perception… attitude and personal desires…

Being a peculiar cup of tea is a challenge at times… not for me because I am being just who I am… butt it can be some what of a challenge for other people to catch the drift of me… it actually takes effort to get to know a bit about me… it is not like I do it on purpose… or that I do it to be a pain… the walls just stay up a bit longer with me than with other people… except for those who slip right in… and they feel like they have in all ways been there… they are as comfortable as an old worn pair of jeans… they just slip right on to the contours of your being and just hold you perfectly…

The road is not in all ways a success filled one… at times the road needs to be a bit bumpy… curved… filled with pot holes or perhaps have sides that slip away into the great abyss… each makes choices and those decisions lead us to places… at what point do we separate our lives from their lives… in reality we never completely separate one from the other… butt at some point or junction in time we release ourselves from the cradle of parental protection and move on… it is at times a daunting experience… one that requires us to look forward and behave as if we are the parents… because we now are the parents… we took the reins from the prior generation and have now handed it over the next… we never grow out of being who we are… butt at some point the choices become theirs to make and theirs to live… for some that choice comes sooner more than later…

There are situations in growing where our best efforts actually fail to right the ship… it is not that we are incapable of doing all that we can… it is that we don’t control the ship… we are not the hand on the wheel charting the course that is being followed… we are simply the ballast running from one side to the other as the ship bends to the wind… at some point I often wonder what would happen if we dropped off and let the ship find its own center… my suspicion is that there would be a struggle for some time before there is control of the rudder butt once the new trim is felt and gotten used to the ship will find its way to port and home…

A message comes from out of the past… a small gesture of connection… we let time slip by… we let time heal the sore spots we have… not all things are easy to over come butt with time we do learn that even though we hurt some one or some one hurt us it can be soothed by the presence of time… even when we do step forward and apologize and do what we can the hurt of relationships remains long after we have gone our separate ways… at times I wish life was easier that way… butt it is knot what I would like it to be it is what it is… and for some there is know going back and rebuilding bridges… there is only the occasional word tossed in a single direction because the road is closed… I have done my share of forgetting and leaving the door closed when some one knocks… I failed to be the person I could have been a number of times… I thought better of it now… I did knead to learn some things the hard and difficult way… life and the choices we make have a way of making sure the lessons are learned… would we be the person we are if we did not walk the choices we made… in many respects I fail to be the person I can be… and in others I have reached far beyond the limits of my imagination…

I enjoy letting my mind go astray… it is unusual that I can do so… most people as you can imagine tend to shy away from some one who does not at least give the impression of asking and answering or write about the features of their day… what we say we want and what we actually want can be two very different and unique things… that is where my reference to being a particular cup of tea comes from… it takes a trained eye to see knot only the words that are written on the page butt also the alternate meanings that lie there coupled with the words that are knot being written at all butt implied by their absence… so when I let my mind go astray it is more of a direct result of the comfort I sense that exists between us… to truly be ourselves or shall I say for me to truly be myself I need to be allowed to wander the fringes before I get to the center… just my way of saying that it takes a bit of saying before we get to say what needs to said… I will say the same thing about relationships… the older they are the more intricate the communication is… not just the words spoken butt the touch… the strings that are laced one over the other… the way the words are placed… and most importantly… what we choose to leave out or what we leave out by omission… as my mind wanders I fully enjoy the warmth that is tendered… the spirit of the language as it is placed back and forth… I am at times wrapped in a dilemma… of how much is too much and how much is not enough… perhaps I should allow the water to rise as it will and to be prepared to row a bit or just drift on the waves as they find me…

The rain has once more found us… a river of water we have seen of late… when it rains it pours is the expression and it is certainly living up to that… with each passing hour we may find ourselves once more stranded on the island in the stream… not much one can do when nature cries but try to find a dry spot in amongst the trees and seek shelter from the storm… I am reminded of that song by Bob Dylan that speaks of storms and shelter in the night as the rages of weather and life come upon us… it is easy to see the similarities between what we experience as people in our lives on a personal level and the experiences of nature… storms do rage and they are both natural and unnatural… weather cannot be tamed… but the unnatural storms we do find ways of taming so that we can use the energy productively… or so we believe… the truth is what we believe often comes true… simply because we believe it to be so… a lot can be said for steering… if we steer away from a particular sequence of events we often find it staring at us once again… best to steer towards that witch we wish to share with as oppose to running away from the one we wish not to be in company with… the shelter from the storm is really just a peace within ourselves…

We tend to be reminded of how much we rely on one another when one or the other is away… once we find some one we tend to take for granted their presence in our lives… they become for us a peace of the foundation that we rest ourselves upon… this is how we are as people… we become comfortable with them being there… so when they are away even for a short period of time we feel the absence acutely… a reminder to acknowledge that we do care and we do realize the power of their presence in our lives… it is important in all ways at all times to remember to say the things we need to say… it is spring and with the spring comes the promise of warmer days and opportunities to enjoy the out of doors… a time to renew and replenish… not just the earth around us butt also the relationships we have…

Things are as they are… short long sweet sour salty… spicy… and all manners of places in between… the length and the breath of time has played out over my imagination… the time of late has slipped rapidly between my fingers… all the hustle and bustle related to reaching beyond the running waters then to the eye of the needle and back again… the slip and the slide… the ocean of thoughts and then the pooling of rain in places it should knot… banks overflow at times as reminders that while we can build fortresses against the might of nature… mother nature has her means to bring that down… funny how one element of a storm can be the difference between a slight passing and a deluge… spring is like that… fickle… one day it is warm and sunny with the promise of more to come and the next is cold and rainy with the feel of winter once more on its finger tips… this is a season of change… a period of certain movement…

When I am unable to step easily into my routine I find that I fret a bit… some things I require to deal with the world around me… it is a good thing for me to sit and write every day in some way shape or form… it allows for a release of tension… stress and a time for me that is just for me… so much is said about time and ways to relieve stress in one’s life… art is that release that a lot of people ignore as a possibility… choosing to exercise as the means… which will yield good results physically… emotionally though I have found that the other side of the coin… the expression side is not taken care of when one just does some thing physical… for me there is this need to exercise the emotional… spiritual and intellectual side in a meaningful way… it is probably why I write such long rambling notes that go on and on that seemingly go know where and then end up some where… it is a pattern of following the thought that comes to mind and allowing myself the freedom to say here at least what needs to be said so that perhaps I keep my own council a bit more in the world that surrounds me… it is humorous at times to watch the misspoken word get so much attention… like it should never have happen at all… when in point of fact the misspoken word is probably closer to the truth of what a person feels… what they are thinking… it is stirred from the depths of their thoughts by anger… fear… frustration at the situation they are in… I find that I tend knot to do that so much when I have had the time to mull over my thoughts in this way… I tend to be a bit more thoughtful or perhaps the word is practiced… having already gone over the scenarios in my imagination I am more capable of dealing with the reactions is a more focused manner… though I have let slip my true feelings to others on a number of occasions… some times by design and at others because they have tripped the switch we all have… as an older more wiser man I have learned to control the wildness of my youth… wisdom certainly does come with age… at least in some respects… it does not seem to follow me when I take on the yard work for I always extend myself a bit too much on the first day… aches and pains are the ritual of springtime… each year it feels different… more acute perhaps in that I should realize that I am not so young as I used to be… or as old as I some times feel… and I did feel old this week… my eyes do make me feel old when they act up… as well as my joints when I move… aging is best left to the young they are the ones who wish to get older quicker… I for one can deal with getting older in a very slow and casual pace… we need to stop the race… hold time still for a while…

The day echoes with a bit of frustration… I did accomplish what I set out to do… yet it still rings hollow… I had time to relax and enjoy the day witch turned out to be warm and inviting… unlike the forecast… witch did call for clouds and rain… so we had another fine day to just take deep breaths and in joy wonder about what is to come… many choices we make are minor in the course of our lives and then there are ones that turn us in one direction or another… they seem minor at the time… a means to an end… or perhaps a desire to move on from where we are… we grow in endless waves butt the boat still needs to be rowed… forgetting to take up the oars does not stop the water… it allows us to drift… and while drifting for a time is a means to an end… drifting is not a means to get from one place to another… in that respect you have to focus and drive into the storm… or at least put some muscle into getting from here to there…

Progress is made on either side of the equation… they are not equal in dimensions butt they do take on certain characteristics… I find the fault lies on both sides… each takes a peace of the metal and tarnishes it… there is never a single un-varnish truth… from each perspective one or the other and to my mind both influence the folding in… we can’t elude the effort we put in and the grade we get for that effort… all we can do is do better next time… the situation is never as hopeless as we some times find it… it is however a choice of motivation… can we as leaders motivate… or do we rule by the exception… each stands up for themselves and what comes of individuals in the long scheme of things is that they fall to the way side for the whole is larger than any one individual… until that individual is you… what that time arrives you want the system we have now to be true… that the one… the individual has more rights than the many… universal anything is by its nature restrictive to the one and helpful to the many… it has to by its very nature take from one to grant to another… it requires a sacrifice of the ones with to the one without and eventually leads to a managed rationed system… time and time again we have proven to ourselves that the best way to run any thing is by the freedom of the consumer to make their own choices… when that is done… we have balance and we have control… when the opposite occurs… it only last for as long as the other person’s money holds out… once that is gone the system collapses and we have to be able to allow that to occur… it is not failure when something wrong fails… it is progress to have failure and then from the ashes will rise the solution… there is always a solution that is worthy of effort… our effort and willingness to sit down and negotiate… what ever comes of this or that is taken to the heart and remembered… I remember everyone who takes what is mine and gives it freely to another… I remember them so when the time comes when they have to pony up I want to make sure they put their money where their choice was… the finny thing is that most of them find ways not to…

The list of music has gotten longer over time… in the beginning it was limited to a very few artists and concepts… a very popular time I was having for a very long stretch of time… after a time the art was more important than the popular theme… in fact the less popular the better… some strange old influences the strings… the forest is large butt the trees all play different tunes… a little jazz… a little country… a classical expression or two… not to mention some popular some old time and a bit of what is new… not a lot because music as a rule of popularity is not for the older generation… music that is popular is the music of the now and current teenage generation… though some can be interesting to the older more refined mind… I remember when… often falls into my imagination when I take in the new and different… I try to figure out what all the need is… then I remember rebellion comes in all forms… music is the easiest one to conjure up… art is the cutting edge of change…