Night writers Lament: In reference to a song heard long ago sung by Jerry Jeff Walker. Sometimes when you are up at night because you can't sleep for some reason or other and you some times wonder what is up with that and by the time you figure out that you should really get back to sleep, well it is then that your "other" mind engages and runs you down a rabbit hole, and then, then, well, Alice has you then, now doesn't she? And that rabbit hole turns into a warren, which is a part of a family of warrens, all of which belong to a village of families of warrens, attached to the city make up of the villages of families. if you make it to a hole at the edge of the city of villages of families of warrens of holes of individual rabbits, you may see the roads that lead to ..................There are stories, but most of us don't really believe them. Not in their entirety anyway, if course, there is always a grain of truth in even a lie, right? At the very least, you are reminded that once outside the mind shaft, all things are possible. All THINGS are possible. So here's the aforementioned song: Night RIDERS Lament. As I was out there a ridin' The graveyard shift from darkness til dawn, Well the moon was as bright as A readin' light For a letter from an old friend back home. And he asked me "Why do you ride for your money? Tell me why do you rope for short pay? You ain't gettin' no where and your'e loosing your share, Hoss, you shore must be crazy out there. He said "Last night I run onto Jenny She's married and has a good life, Hoss you shore missed the trak when you let 'er ome back She's the perfect professionals wife. And she asks me, "Now why does he ride for his money? Why does he rope for short pay? He ain't gettin' nowhere, and he's loosin' his share, Well, he must just be crazy out there." But you know, they've never seen the northern lights, And they've seen a hawk on the wing, They ain't never seen the spring hit the great divide, And they've never heard ole camp cookie sing. Well I read up the last of my letter, and tore off the stamp for Black Jim, And Billy rode up to relieve me, He just looked at my letter and grinned. and he asked me, "Why do they ride for their money? Tell me why do they rope for short pay? Thay ain't gettin' nowhere, and there loosin their hair, Well they all must be crazy back there, CAuse you know, they've never seen the northern lights, And they've seen a hawk on the wing, They ain't never seen the spring hit the great divide, And they've never heard ole camp cookie sing. --------------------------------------------------------

And now for a rant: I have been noticing, as y'all probably have, the troubles around the globe--Ukraine, Syria and Iraq, Somalia, Libya, Sudan and South Sudan, Guatemala, Venezuela, China and the South China sea nations, Israel and Palestine, etc, etc, etc. Troubles between tribes, areas, ideologies, nations, governments and governmental leaders. But, for the most part, not between people. Peoples, yes; people, no. And, it seems to me, the de facto common denominator is the lack of freedom in all these places, ideologies, and leaders. Is the wine of freedom so sweet, that it is cloying to those who lack it? Is the taste of control uncontrollable once introduced to the palate? Just saying.

OK. Trying to get back into this thing. And into my fiction writing more seriously. Weird, but it seems to be easier to write philosophy than this. Or fiction. But isn't philosophy fiction? Just more personal, maybe. And it is all creative writing. Unless you are copying something, all is creative.

Must be havin' fun

Just before the time change and time flies like an arrow, while fruit flies like a banana! Just need to get into the habit, I guess, of posting to this blog oftener. It doesn't get in the way of my "real" writing, I just haven't gotten into the mode of recognizing it as something I need to do. Like trying to be interesting, while just letting the thoughts reign supreme. I did write a couple of good (I think) stories this last week. And along with the new "job" of copy editing, I am doing my part, at least in part.

I continue to value my part in mentoring a few peeps. I keep asking for questions as well as answers and they keep coming up with cogent questions. Keeps me on my toes.

And that damned boat! I tried to finish the fiberglass/epoxy coat on the inside of my 15'6" wooden strip canoe, and got a bunch (around 60) bubbles in it, which have to be cut out and re-epoxied. A real PITA and time consuming as well. But the boat will look good when finished. I just hope she paddles well as well. Only time will tell. (Will Tell? Did he shoot the arrow that time flies like?) It's all connected in the end, isn't it?

Cloudday on Sunday

Okay, so some explanation about wood art: this piece (wood art 1) is actually a lazy susan I created (for the Austin Scottish Rite of Freemasonry) to hold 4 embossing tools of varying sizes and shapes. The base is made of oak and the designs at the center and on the edges are ¼” burled maple. But the results were pretty good, so I captured them in photos and labeled them as “art”. More of like things will be added in the future. I got some new woodworking tools to work with, so look out!
NEXT: Being a gardener and an avid one at that, yesterday was so sunny and glorious that my wife and I decided to get a load of mulch for the garden, which I had already tilled and prepped for the late winter/early spring garden. After unloading the mulch (a small trailer and pickup bed load), I really felt as if I was in a fantasy novel: my ass was a draggin'! But it was wonderful anyway, plus we had the help of a couple of ten year old neighborhood girls helping us--always good seeing the "kids" getting into gardening.

FURTHER: Sundays are contemplative days for me, so I offer You this: at some event in the not-so-distant future, try forcing out one of your senses. For instance, at a café, just close your eyes for several minutes—beyond your comfort level somewhat should be your goal. Concentrate just on what you hear, smell, feel, taste. Or at a group event, don’t speak for the entire thing. This exercise will sharpen your other senses and make you more aware of them and maybe even improve them, or at least your awareness/enjoyment/cognizance of them.

AND LAST: Blogging. Whooda thunk? Feels good. At least to me. And perhaps to someone else out there who has yet to take the opportunity to just let it hang out.

Annnnnnnnd, they're off!

Okay, first time ever to blog. Never was much into it, but when you write, you must write, right?

The sun is just going down as I look out my window. I see trees, trees, trees. Some bare, some not. But the sun does them all in glory, just the same. Makes you love the wonder that imposes itself on your life, doesn't it? And that makes me think of all the other "impositions" that life throws at us and I wonder. I just wonder. Deep down, we love it all. We have to.

Then back to the trees, trees, trees. One branch imposing itself upon another, sometimes rubbing, sometimes just missing, but always making a pattern, making art. But only if we see it. So if we don't see it, does it mean that it isn't there?

Well, this is just the start of burrowing the first few shovels full out of the mountain that is the mind. Our first foray into a still shallow, but nonetheless started, mind shaft. I'll keep digging. Will you?