blogging since 2004
thinking through this past weekend and i realized that i have either been very present or very dreamy… on the drive down south this morning, i started remember all the moving pieces of my life at the moment – things i should be doing, events coming up that i haven’t planned for, places to go…
I have resisted the netbook revolution for as long as could, but this weekend I finally caved. I like the idea of the netbook, light, ultra-portable, does what I need it to do, which is mainly emailing, blogging, and surfing the net for random things. My main resistance has been not wanting to fool about…
I’ve been searching for a hobby or activity that would encourage us to get back out into nature again. Something in our nature likes to have a goal, something that awaits us at the end of the journey, the prize or elixir as it is known in the mono myth of the Hero’s Journey. The…
i am tired of being a prisoner shackled by time, held in place by fear, brainwashed to believe the should’s and should not’s while my inner self screams be true to yourself fight the good fight and the universe will reward you if you follow your own muse
i returned to the salt mines because i could not turn a dime with my words to feed the open mouths of our creation sensations of doom and economic gloom echo across the open channels of distress masquerading as cartoons for our entertainment and distraction, mind the attraction of the blue pill I tapped out…
cotton ball clouds float panorama patches blues green fields spring anew african people to drink still muddy water walk four miles a day bare tree alone stands spring time leaves no fruit to bare roots dug deep in time
Thanks everyone for taking part in the walk for water, and especially well done to Lucy & Brittany for carrying a bucket of water on your heads for 2 miles. Between us we have raised approximately £40 (possibly a bit more), so that’s great news. Here’s what that money can buy: £9 could train a…
blank pages opened shuffled like cards aces and deuces wild shall i fill them up like joanna beneath the stars leaned back against the monkey bars of our youth? how she tasted sweet then, her pages easy to fill the thrill of a first kiss more mysteries revealed blank pages turned savage run amiss
i want to know the story written in her sad, dark eyes i wonder why she cries at night, her sad, dark eyes never smile, but captivate, trance like pleading, needing sad, dark eyes i want to know the pain they hide and hold the softest touch the tilted chin the lightest kiss to ease…