first on the agenda… here is what I meant by this post, although this pic does not do it justice, this was what I was going for/saw except way more perfect….
Second order of business, find beauty where you may, seek it out, look for it all around you… so try this…
So… enlarge them, are these mountains? or a mountain lake… drone shots… or?
Third order of business, I ran across this in a note tucked away on my home PC in some obscure folder I forgot, something I wrote in a haste, and totally forgot about it, but I like it, it is kind of a mea culpa about me screwing up relationships… a simple thing, a sentiment, a true thing, my thing, so, I own it…
“I did not kill two birds with a stone I merely altered fate and now we fly alone”
notes…. thanks to any and all looks, your time is measured and gone, as is mine. My hope is I expand your mind with my own and the opposite is the draw, my friends. and yeah I also do movie/media reviews if you didn’t totally dig into my blog…
the clouds seem strangely organized this evening (them over there, actual picture from my perspective, not some thing I pulled off the web as per usual, that’s Edison NJ sky proper right there), anyway, like I said, the sky was… like a peaceful battalion on a march in the same direction, an intersection, to a point, a pincer formation, all aligning, driving, aimed at the horizon falling, rows drawn and lined, movement deliberate by the minute they climb, chasing in slow motion that last nourishing drop of day’s light, as am I, ‘put down the phone’ I chide my own self to pry away, there was a time that bottomless whirlpool crutch never existed, ‘was I bored then?’, I can not remember all the minutia of the occupied minutes of how such time was spent, time, this time, take the time, perhaps ‘carpe diem’ is too big a bite, so seize a moment clutched fruit from a vine, trek from there, that point, a starting line, imagine being one of those clouds, not in a storm, in a picture frame perfect setting such as this now, moving above the troubles and baubles of the world so far below, cruising over the open seas, eyes to soak in all the globe memories, islands – that only tales visit, mountain tops – without the climb, rivers – that crack continents in half, and lakes – that are children of the very seas themselves, and then, even your back, your back brushing up against the very cosmos – and yet, still tethered to this earth, a line of life from your birth to the land, a product of the cycle of all life, floating water boats sailing the sky, so seize the moment, a moment, and become lost in an instant, become the words that create the stories in all that surrounds you, seize the moment.
notes… almost forgot, my Thoughts from the Porch is a thing, well, at least for me, and those who read me (waving furiously hello at you all, thanks), and to those uninitiated, this is an exercise in freeform, what? well, my version of stream of consciousness, I sit out on my porch and let the flow go, no, not like that, that would get me arrested man, I mean thought flow, letting the world come to me, or the reverse, or the muse uses me as she sees fit…. something like that… but as I like to say, thanks for the looks, the time, the dime, the comments (good or otherwise), and recipes involving really hot chiles…
tonight, out walking the dogs, I looked up, and discovered – the sky was a dream, maybe a combination even, all the right mix to sweep me off to paradise duty free, the heat of the day has sighed and gone off to sleep, the oppressive mass of humidity has retreated to some other port, I thought to myself “I wish I had all the money in the world to see this all the time”, the irony, here I was, viewing for free, noticing the same thing, not a perfectly clear sky, no, not a glowing soft moon, no, just enough stars for constellation fishing, a large swath of perfectly white clouds thrown across like cotton candy as a wind sock, with caves and nooks, all little pockets and playgrounds for the gods, a blue sky, yes, a blue sky at night, not the stunning azure of day mind you, more towards dark but still blue indeed, what I imagine the middle of the ocean looks like when no one is looking (but I suppose I will never know), the dogs seem oblivious, but they have access to a whole olfactory world I do not, my nose is free enough of allergies tonight to enjoy the subtle pine notes of the evergreens, a hint of treated water smell as my neighbor’s sprinklers go off and some wayward spray is blown my way, how can even a perfect picture encompass all this? the sights, the sounds, the smells, the experience, at least perhaps the photo can be a reminder, of these little slices, the devices left for us to discover, all laid out before us, to simply look… skyward and be thankful we are here.
sidewalks, walking the dog, literally, no cute metaphor there, I was caught to think of the pyramids and other ancient stone structures around the globe that have survived thousands of years, we kind of take such things for granted in some ways, that they are standing there -still- for almost all of our recorded history (and before if you think of Stonehenge or Carnac), but look around at our modern creations, at the ravages, the destruction, the never ending erosion of time and the tentacles thereof by design, our ‘advanced’ minds thwarted, walking my dog along the sidewalk in my neighborhood, at one time this was a perfect path, now a twisted path or upended like a funhouse, just some odd 50 years ago (give or take), this was a perfectly laid plan in a perfectly made place, a new suburb measured to the letter to absorb the masses flooding out into the plains (ok, New Jersey) from the city centers, lines, dimes, all perfectly aligned, everything planned out and planted about, until time got a slight hold and caused a quiet riot, under root, slowly challenging the ordered mind that set this all about, really- no contest, time has all the time in the world and more, how many repairs has this little road of 50 houses seen, agents of season quietly (and sometimes not so) banging on the surface with the relent of never ending bending weather, and the tread of the back and forth lives, cars, carving paths along the curves just like old footpaths, subtle cracks in the curbs, become valleys once more disturbed, floods, drought, glaring sun, the bitter grip of cold, how does anything ever get really old and not just broken in this environment? Well, we have not surely learned… the pyramids remain, but all in this hemisphere is fading…
notes…. got my thrash roots, my metal roots, no apologies, anthrax are local good dudes who made good, and damn they were and are fun… and the piece ? damn, seriously walking the new dog it dawned on me how flawed the perfect planning of this neighborhood was, so smart we are and nature breaks it in less than a generation…
past when I usually spy the sun, still well before she dips below the actual horizon, not just mine, like a star guiding a wayward journey on a moonless night, there I was in the perfect position, by luck, by providence, by circumstance, a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper maybe coriander, all of these, there I stand, staring into the spiral center of a leaf field collage, nearly as dense as the night sky on the round, simply replace black with dark green shadows, but a crack, no a cranny, a nook, a little big hole of just enough, for the sun to shine through, somewhat lens flare diffused, this was not the swelling noon globe I am used to, sometimes I will catch glimpses of this theme in a window, a peek, a wink, but maybe the trees were swaying then, never quite this still, this perfect a portal, a north star buried in a mass of green leaves arranged so perfectly like a tight bouquet with a brilliant diamond in the center, little moments like these provide blocks to build inner strength, reinforce the walls of the good of the world, that hope, the individuality, I had been starring there standing for a while now, completely lost out of my body swept out into the ocean of the anomaly, and as fast as such times are, the circumstance for my chance was gone, but I was there, I was there for the experience of the moment, I was there.
Sometimes I flip through some old stuff, and find lines or short works, or incomplete thoughts, and I post them in the quiet moments of weekends, perhaps you like them, or they help inspire, to me they are snapshots, ideas lost, or just something the moment has passed on, and with that, so here they are…
(1) she ruffles my brow as only she knows how (2) do I trust the path of crows for they are mischievous sprites do I stay the path I go and risk the safety of never light (3) I looked up, and I thought: “could I die under this sky?” and yes, I could, I would, maybe not the radiant blue you are thinking of, but layered textures like purposefully settled sand, layers of slightly not the same shade but related, surely I do not want to go, but if this was the end I might not mind. (4) all of the circles of sand when will they end (5) I see rolling hills of sand from which wind blows shifting landscape yet remains the same a one note chameleon
an unremarkable rainy day the pond in the park over there a lone figure sits on the bench centered I can not read their story from here so I move on
notes… I say it every time I write a piece like this, haiku is great as a script, I don’t like the restraint but I love the feel, intent and compaction, no bones to throw @ those who are haiku advocates, Basho is amazing, he embodied his poems, but I am not Basho, so interpret for yourself.
given the prospect of being blind or deaf, I would not choose either, I can not imagine the world as other, I suspect it would be ‘better’ to be born that way then to know of the fruit and then be denied it’s sweet taste, how often do we ponder the good graces of the basics, sight, and more specifically color, something we all take for granted (not wagging a finger, myself charged guilty aside from moments of clarity such as this), just the idea of color is an amazing thing when you stop to wonder on it for a moment, and the mere spectrum we see is just a hint, a shadow really, of all the color actually out there, I suppose we do not tend to think of X-ray, infrared, ultraviolet and microwaves as ‘colors’ but they are in wave form just the same as ROYGBIV, but they are not recognized by our eyes by design, who knows what the future may bring if we leave this earthly thing, or become more bionic than human… maybe someone will be painting in microwave one day (and heating din din at the same time)… holding a prism and breaking light into a rainbow swath of ingredients, a hidden cascade locked in every light, except when the rain and sun meet, we marvel at those natural rainbows but what is color? visible light, if you look at a strawberry, it is not actually red, the surface of the berry is merely reflecting red light, absorbing the rest, that is what your eyes cast and catch, so therefore “strawberries are red” even when they are not, color is simply an interpretation of what an object is sending back to your optical receptors, but these calculations, happenings, actualities, we process millions in a daily breeze with no effort, just the sheer idea of color shows the sheer wonder of our creation and ability to sample the world provided around us, truly amazing, a palate built for our exact imaginations…
let the core of this earth be as is my heart a world existing only for you, eden-born my love, my gemini, for I am bound as my soul, to this dirt from which I come which I came to know you, forever the poles as they track the sun until all light fades my love shall remain until the dying collapse that will end all days so- I will be with you forever.
notes… this is meant to be staccato in rhythm, in beats, at least that is the way, it reads, to me, and I meant, to write it, that way… but always for her, for her, the one I will always love, until the day, the day I die.
taking a moment to soak in the sundown, not really a sunset most nights (like the kind when you hear the word “sunset“), my view is not of some majestic mountains or other similar bucolic loveliness, no, just the sun dipping below sight, tucked behind my neighbor’s house, but it will suffice, until something nicer comes along, I suppose that is what vacations are for, I close my eyes intently & intensely to concentrate on what is left of the day’s rays, to absorb every single last joule of radiant solar energy, hopefully put smartly into my internal battery, if there is such a thing, well, at least there is in my imagination that is, so go with it, I suppose this is meditation of sorts, on outside observation I probably look half asleep, and in fact I think I may have teetered back and forth a bit, perhaps eyes open is a better option after a long day of remote client support, one of those days the phone rang before I could even comprehend the morning, and non stop flow until the clock was up, one of those days that after I tell myself to not allow myself to get wound, but by 10am and 2 coffees in I’m down that hole spinning ’round and ’round, so this is like my decompression chamber, well, more like my green open space, not a private matter as all passersby can cast their judgments and questionable looks upon me, I try to spin close the leaky spigot of my thoughts, let my mind expand out into a relaxed pause, I concentrate on a blade of grass gently bobbing up and down, just slightly taller than the rest, that is why it stands out, I scan around & wonder @ all the manner of green hues in the leaves occupying the personal canopy of my yard, the birds sound even, singing even, not chatter or arguments or chirping fits or territorial spits, the chaos of the world seems lulled by mild order and the meandering pitch perfect wind, as the breeze works toward and over like just warm pulsing bath water across my bare ankles, I have at least this little escape, this space of mine for this time, sitting somewhat selfish with a beaming inner satisfaction, as the breeze leaves me in the past like a clever thief, I notice the savage has been sapped from within my keep… rejuvenation, a moment in the sun. (thanks earth, I owe you one)
notes… as always, thanks for the looks, the views, the thoughts, the news, any and all comments are appreciated, negative or positive, it’s cool, thanks for taking the time to check out my little blog. I would say I do it for you… but nah, this is my art, I do it for me, I hope people like it, I want people to dig it? sure. But one is enough, 10,000 would rule, but hey, I ain’t that out of my head …
PS: maybe I am stupid, but I tag my posts accurately, that probably explains the highs and lows, the spikes and the tumbleweed, but that is what I do, that is who I am…
Shades of My Garden 