Fourth Morning, San Diego
This is how I want to live – exactly like this. Is that the best way to say it? Perhaps, this is what feels like the perfect life, as it is experienced in the moment – moment after moment. These last two days, pieces, parts, and times of the days. It’s all only one man’s…
Strolling for Joy
I walked out the back door this morning, right around 7:00, with the daily intentions to empty the coffee filter, check on our tiny vegetable beds, and open and walk through the garage studio. Pretty much every morning, after meditation and coffee and reading in the recliner, I do these things. Like today. We have…
The Value of Me
I have a painting – this one, oil, which is now framed and under glass – and I painted it with a palette knife on a piece of 15 x 11 watercolor paper. The painting slightly influenced, in my mind while I was making it, by the work of Hans Hofmann and Robert Motherwell, primarily…
The Me of Me
Periodically, I’d say maybe three or four times a week – more if I’m “on” – I sit at this keyboard and do “timed writings”, kind of stream-of conscious, automatic writing in which I try to begin with a particular thought and then dish on that from there, the timer on the phone set for…
Shower the People You Love
I am about to ask you to become a Patron of mine. A someone who supports my devotion to and efforts at creativity – in my particular case as a writer and an artist. And as an artist working in both oils and acrylic, drawing with pencil and charcoal. Working at keyboards and coffee shop…
Coming Soon
….to a Monitor directly in front of you. Ah, maybe a mobile device. Some screen. Lots and lots and lots of goodies from me. Stuff – mostly new stuff, a bit of old stuff, recycling maybe. I have much to say and a burst of plans – you’ll see why – and all…
Ranting About Self Talk
See, I am overdue for a weekly Blog post and have been focused on projects other than the Blog (Zine, DeLoreal Beach Mysteries, upcoming art show and sale) and yesterday when I asked myself what was next for the Blog I answered “I don’t know.” Then, in the third piece of timed writing for the…
Kind of How it Goes
A couple of weeks ago a friend named Eric stopped by the house. He lives up near Seattle and was down in Portland for the weekend. Talking on the phone a week or so earlier he was describing a room he’d rented in a house under construction – the floors were torn up, he was…