Category: the mind wanders
i want to tic with kerouac in the shiveringest of places. mind does not matter if mind is over matter. that place. i see him. i feel me there. i sense him beside me; red wine exhales and musty clothing. he is my breath, my thoughts, my words. i understand; no explanation extended. i just simply do.
words angst words please words will words piano words pencil words story words my words freeing words leave my mind words run words run words piano run stay play SPEAK leave me black white graphite speak free speak proud speak strong words song run more run more soar go write play speak your way own words own keys own .07 own me words fight … Read More my .07
Today I feel pressured because I am short on time and long on tired. Brain-drained from my day I try desperately to float into my creative space and will something to happen. Well not just something, but something worthy of my time. And yours. Reflective. Chasing shadows – of memories – of evenings – when there existed an hour, or maybe two, during which … Read More my world in words
Big Sur trees and seemingly angry ocean waves. Kerouac in a cabin trying desperately to save his life. The air exudes literature and the struggle that is writing – (and living) – at least for me it does. My mind is full of wonderings about those who wrote me here with their words and made it feel like home. I cannot help but spill … Read More the house of emil white
Free-write to stimulate. We are struggling – the both of us. I laugh as we try, desperatlely, to recreate the temptress of words. Fruitless we are in this dingy beach ‘paradise’ god forsaken excuse of a retreat for the writers within us. Not without Big Sur. Not without Jack and Henry. Not upon this balcony that forces our attention to the dirty mayhem beneath … Read More newport & nothing
Rays of sunshine are angling their presence through fronds of palm and dancing on my cheeks. Warmed. I don’t enjoy when the dance becomes too intense though. The heat turns my focus to feelings of discomfort and away from the real thoughts prattling around in my head – the ones that aren’t even truly known to me until, somehow, they make their way onto … Read More hey, is that you?
I did not…I wasn’t even fucking close to…getting this one right away, this 50-thing…just as I did not get 40…or 30, or likely any decade before the afore mentioned decades. I had great aspirations and goals for the turning of each; only to find that where I found myself at the changing-of-the-calendar-guard was not, in fact, remotely even hopefully close to where I actually … Read More reflections on the hill i was late to climb over
I dream of you often lately. I have a strong sense that I am coming to understand you better. At least it feels that way in my head. I’m answering some of my own questions now as well –- viewing life through older and more mature lenses, it’s easier to see the human experience as a collective whole and embrace compassion without needing to … Read More goldfinch dreams
Albeit late. Hanging desperately on the precipice of 51 and feeling like I don’t know any more or better than I did at 21. They say time makes you older and wiser, but presently, and for a while, if I’m being truly honest…I only feel older. The wiseness does not come like they tell you it will…you have to really work to earn it. … Read More a new year in july