Lacuna, Hiatus, Break ends today

Friday February 15 - 10 days yesterday since my last post.  I just decided that I'd proven to myself what I needed to prove.  It started with the January 1 commitment to myself that I could write and post a blog every day for a year.  That I could write on demand without a thought in my head as to what that writing would contain.

I found poetry came easier than much else, and haiku demanded I be brief.  Some were successful, some banal, some just utilitarian.
Thing is I took a lesson from an on-line friend who used to have a blog called Mildly Creative.   He said it's okay to be mildly creative.

I read that and looked around and found what I already know. Not all that is published by anyone is all pure gold, some is mediocre, some down right bad.  It's okay to be mildly creative.  The thing is to continue creating.

I'm leaving the day job March 29, for my home office studio.  I've been planning, painting, drawing and writing (not blogging).
With this post, I'm back.  There'll be some poetry, some paintings and updates on my journey through this my 64th year.

• Three-page mini-website is up and I'm working on the full blown one.
• E-book on journaling and publishing from the pages of your journal is almost finished and I should launch it late March/early April.
• Poetry e-book is taking shape.
• Nostalgia essay under consideration at Victoria Magazine.
• More to come...

Which is the dream?

in dream I oft walk
familiar streets, halls, houses
dream more real than life.

I often wonder which is the reality of our life. Which is the real dream. Which is the real life. What does real really mean.

The yellow brick road beckons.

POV is everything

the wheel keeps turning
seen as fast or slow depends
if you're young or old.

The ways of nature

beyond the windows
fogged by lovers heavy breath
nature has her way

Continuity

miles and miles i’ve
come
some walked
many run
alone and not too
and with you i’d walked
but just a few
but there was something
familiar in the pace
my mind recalls that
gentle face
somewhere, somewhen
my friend
we’d walked in step
before
and somewhere, somewhen
we’ll fall in step again
and share a few
miles more

47 days and counting

days are flying by
I dawdle and stroll along
rushing gets me naught

I have so many projects on my to do list. Not having to go in on Monday's is a such a boon. I have 3 whole days to get something done just for me every week.

But the drive is missing; I read, write a bit, organize, and pretty much spend the time like so much spare change.

I really need to get a handle on this waste of precious days, hit a balance of work and play - no rush.

Gees Bend Comfort & Art

necessities’ art
salvaged scraps stitched carefully
an eye to beauty
Gees’ own winter count
each maps a time’s history
unlikely treasures

Sad how often the world dismisses out of hand the work called women’s work.

The women of Gees Bend sewed their quilts of necessity to keep themselves and their families warm.

Just because they were necessary, didn’t mean they had to be ordinary.  Anything worth doing was well.  These are anything but ordinary.  As vibrant and alive as any famous artist’s work, perhaps more so because they tell a story of a time as well as keep the maker and her family warm.

One woman made a quilt of all the clothing of her departed husband’s clothes to wrap herself in when she missed him in the night – art as beauty, function and comfort – art doesn’t get any better than that.

The road less traveled

at the precipice
faith that the net will appear
waivers firms waivers

Face the fear and do it anyway. That's the only way. We often fear the unknown and in so doing, trod the known rut far too long.

The butterfly stomach speaks to that little voice of doubt. I've embraced it as part and parcel, boon companion on the path of my new adventure.

“The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say”
-- Tolkien.

48 days and counting.

time observed slows down
must keep moving and doing
and let the wheel turn

At 64, my social security is enough ti pay all my Bills and then some. That and sales of my writings, paintings, etc. will more than support me.

Since I decided to give up the day job, there's an excitement running through my veins. Spring fever amplified. To Do Lists drafted.

I'm ready for lift off.

Ill winds best ignored

What you think of me is none of my business. --Terry Cole-Whittaker

intolerance felt
like silent blows to the heart
winds ever blowing

There are always those who by glance, innuendo or soto voce malign, put down, impune your worth.

As with ill winds, hold your coat close and know the wheel turns, spring comes and karma dictates what goes around comes around.

52 Days & counting.

pie in the sky dreams
grounded in to do lists can
grow oaks from acorns

So many Dreams dusted off, restored to the plans on the table - possible, doable. Shedding the day job fills me with drive to achieve those dreams.

I have Spring fever and all things are possible.

Ethan is free Happy Birthday Ethan

to happy endings
innocence violated
blossoms one more time

Ethan in midland Alabama was rescued and we all rejoiced. He appears unaffected - the resilience of youth.

Call me bad, but I'm glad the 'alleged' old man who kidnapped him is dead. I don't understand this alleged nonsense - he took him; he had him when they stormed the bunker. There's nothing alleged about that.

We'll be spared the cost and spectacle of a lengthy circus of a trial. The child and his family have to relive these 7 days over and over again - once was enough.

Happy Birthday, Ethan.

54 days and counting

decision doubted,
for a moment, soon affirmed
greener grass ahead

I decided to retire, resign, leave my current job. Today I doubted that decision for a moment, but before day's end I had affirmation of my decision.

Things have changed here and not for the better for me. I'm sad and glad. I'm sad that the company is no longer as employee friendly as it was when I came on board, but glad to have my doubts allayed and my decision to leave affirmed.

Blue skies, Grey skies

whether stormy grey
deepest blue or clouded scudded
each day is a gift

Which groundhog is right?

Birmingham Bill trumps
Punxsutawne Phil for me
Spring is on the way

It might matter up north, but here in the south it doesn't.

January 12th it was 70?and I was in shorts and a T. January 17th we had thunder snow for hours. The sun came out at 5 and melted mist of it before nightfall.

That's winter Southern style. So, whichever groundhog is right is irrelevant down here, but my money's in Bill.

Rituals ground us

I’ve lit the candles
one in each room of my home  
Imbolc tradition

Rituals are important in life.  They can be elaborate or as simple as lighting candles for Imbolc or Candlemas to celebrate the first signs of spring and the return of the sun.

The increased daylight is obvious now.  The ancients celebrated days throughout the year that were markers for the turning of the year’s wheel of life.

This year the rituals will have more import.  I’m no longer just a passenger, I’m at the wheel.  Spring fever - I can feel it to my very marrow.