Around The Altoona Curve

There are some things that you need to write for, that are the most difficult to write for.

You want to give praise and stir fond memories. At the same time you need conclude with something to bring out the greatest essence of a life.

These are the things done by a person each day. They are hard to capture. A laugh at a joke or a tear shed when touched. All is taken in with what you saw through your own eyes and ears. They are simple, yet as unique as someone’s wink to you. But that unique quality is what makes us all special in our way.

I knew someone who no longer can be here to show us how she simply did it, her special way. And she will be missed.

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I had a pen and paper for so long. I wrote every day. I drew every day. I got these contraptions that dilute the essence.

I am making excuses for not writing. The system I use was crashing. I did not know how to fix it. I need to break through on how to get caught up.

I used to be able to drop pictures. Music. Poem down in a morning.

Let’s see where I am at.

The notes scrubbed clean my ears with familiar melodies that have beat the same before on my ear drum. I passed the same blocks on my way to the depths of the trains moving forward in heat that vibrates the underworld. You leave the last sounds of birds before you descend down those stairs.

I thought to myself, there is so much I want to say today. There is so much I have bouncing from one synapse to another. There is so much out of my control, but I could always write. I could always calm the obtuse in front of me by focusing on a point. Then explaining it. However I felt that day there is a need to fill this canvas with some black.

The music makes those memories come alive. I hear moments in my head that ask for perception to reconcile with current experiences. My mind journeys in an out of current to past. The day hits and in a moment I am not in it. Then the circumstances present a force to focus in it. My instincts overpower my daily journey.

I sign some papers, I make calls, I make events surge forward and then free this climb to halt.

People I do not know, floors and surroundings I have not seen, then turn to environments with others I have already been.

In my mind stirs a woman who has spent all her salt of life to her family passes through conversations and takes me distracted through them. I knew her, but an end cut the place I exist now. Why was it a time for something to end that only helped everything she touched. She made it possible for some to continue down this path we all take. Then, she leaves. What choice?

And the talk of familiarities continue to harvest new meetings. The earth still spins and there is no stopping the momentum.

Enter the love into a room, the love and giving love I never felt possible. Shift to happiness of journeys that I can experience with this love. Another shift.

Check the time, it is time to move to the next step of the day.

So I write, finish my thought and now there is another event in the day to learn. To sanctify an existence.

While this is about time I wander to the next place. I would like to think I am the expression, “not all who wander are lost”, but I am wandering from one event to another.

I type in a phone, and I leave behind a message. And all that is said will be here because I chose to write it down. In a place that exists. In this event of explanation you need to take time to absorb how to feel the next day you leave it, but how you will be absorbing to experience what is to come.

In this vessel, life is never easy, but you use it to say what is important. Hopefully I have done so.

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Sleeping Would Be Nice

Wow this warm weather is nice

Wow sounding board to speak without response

Wow, I just want to be normal and sleep

Never say never, wow. This makes more sense than ever

And the light trickles into the window, part from the moon and mostly from the lit spaces

As anger or aggression could state relevance, my intention is calm under waves

My love for this world and people surfaces, but my disdain for what I experience flow underneath

Contradiction comes to be as probable as my accusations from youth as naming hypocrites

But I wade into waters of a new and they are waters I want to float in

Strong are my opinions but with time I realize they do not matter

When I read Voltaire in my youth I understood, forgot, and realizing again with experience

Make me whole

Make me suffer?

Make me live

Wow, do I really wish I was sleeping?

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Jeramiah Johnson

I have been cheering for Leo to win for years.

Before Blood Diamond.

He makes a movie where he does not speak, no accent and grunting and he wins?

Waiting for his one flaw to realize his career?

Tom cruise may have been ruined by the academy.

The academy will be ruined by Leo’s win if he does.

The acting in the Danish Girl blew that performance to the wind.

But what do I know. 

I would cheer if Leo wins for the fault in past decisions, but he would not deserve this.

Robert Redford made this happen already and I would rather watch the Sting.

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Thank You For Your Creative Passion That Inspires

The wind blew the cold air from somewhere last night. The bite lightly touched your nose and filled the lungs with a different air.

Starting right up again into the year, Monday brings the ring of the week where the short cycle begins. The haul from Monday through Friday is known so well at times. After 10 years of repetition there is a gear that turns on something like an auto pilot. You wake up, get the order around you, prepare mentally for what is to come and turn the butter.

Hands more cut than usual remind me I still work with them. They still make things. This part is the creative wild that makes me imagine, discover and think. In a way it is my freedom, a talent of repetition to mastery of craft.

This small piece of me wishes that I grew directly from this place. A place where there are endless possibilities. Let the creative expand and show something new. I am very thankful there are people like David Bowie that did that. From what he has done, he will timelessly be with us through a labrinth of space oddities trying to find life on Mars.

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The way it has changed my position only two days of listening again.

Poor Adele will get tired soon at this rate.

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The wind swirls through a chamber passing trains. 

Music in minors fills my ears and the sound somehow makes me happy.

Comfort in the strands that make you feel your heart.

Feeling my heart has guided me.

I spoke of this mentioned to me previously, but I have remembered your heart is not controlled by your brain.

The heart may be driven by triggers that the brain directs in reaction to life.

But the heart drives the life through your body.

Blood pumping from beats that increase with intensity and rests with calm.

I keep coming back to how the brain triggers these senses.

Yet I knew for certain some time ago that following my heart was not linked to my brain.

It is a rhythm that is met when there is balance in actions and direction.

Then the heart beats best, strong and even like the river.

And it tells the brain all is right.

Not a trigger from the brain beating the heart.

I knew this when I was younger.

I did not need to think to understand.

But knowledge tells me and someone told me my heart is a muscle that is directed by the brain’s stimulus.

So I toss the ideas back and forth sure I know.

When I was young I knew what I wanted.

Now I am living this existence but not sure I have the sails catching wind.

No sad like the music, just not as in touch with the feeling to let things pass through me.

I read the alchemist and my life made sense. 

Now my brain thinks.

I always thought to much, but not separating hair.

And the swirling wind carried me forward to to this direction I have been traveling without feeling what I am doing, passing though me like like the light of the moon over my closed eyes.

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And Then There Was Some Happiness

A curse

A shift

Peace deliver

Dare say once life looks good and settled, something stirs. How can you pour it out before it constitutes, if you do not now what is being made?

Instruments read an explosion not natural.

But creation of what may be the guilt we still face, proven necessary at a time when only something that scary could deflate a balloon on the seas.

Proven. Does that simply mean it works?


In the deep there seems no hope unless simple solutions are found.

Sometimes those simple solutions at the time create many difficult problems down the traveling human existence.

So peace deliver

Before this unnatural lightening could think of striking

Decide and prove your solutions with much thought.

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‘Twas The Night Before New Years Day

And all was the same.

The days are shorter, but little by little expanding now as the earth spins towards the sun here. It is warmer than usual, another slow creep that stands out a bit year by year. Your index exhales after that final push to get everything done for year end.

But that deep first breath will be needed soon. It will be back to a zero like concept that requires another year of persisitance to get right back here.

They are all good ones, but this year was an especially good one setting up what will come. A tough one, but that seems to move together like a horse race. You ride next to those things that are tough. But as you continue along you try to outpace that difficulty with perservrance building something. And something was built. It is small and humble, but that is what a beginning is like.

But the year did not see great changes from this perspective. Country did not crumble, water did not rise to cover land, no holy return, no one landed from the space and the long crawl continued on.

Still all still feels familiar. Like the way your shoes fit after a few walks in them. 

12 grapes and off to the next movement.

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And We Inch Closer

I am not one to get too excited.

Excitement is for those who do not enjoy the days, each and every one of them, as they come.

If something anticipated is expected to be better than what you are doing now, then it could lead to disappointment.

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