Author Brian Andreas makes two incredibly clever comments; I’ve always thought I was taller than I looked and I’m not so good at taking my own advice but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s right.
Two of the biggest subjects covered while taking a second to glance at the person in the mirror.
I find great enjoyment watching others on that specially designed sheet of glass. From this side of the fence it always comes across like the man in the mirror is in total disbelief of their true size. Only to be followed by the attitude of I live out here in the real world and genuinely know how to take care of myself.
Although he never physically said it Mark Twain had a horrible time gaining the strength to look in a mirror. The written words featured in Mr. Twain’s books shared was his image, readers unwrapped the ingredients from the chapters that shaped the fingers that held the writing instrument. But asked to write an autobiography? I think not!
Turn forward the hands of time to modern waves and valleys and those positioned on the outside waste no time jotting down their journey on Face Book, Twitter and regular Blogging and what we see are the same two extremely tired eyes staring at a soul wearing the same clothes. It’s as if we’re visited daily by Salvador Dali with his mind boggling pieces parts and curves that tend to tease more than come out and say.
Recently heard a quote, “Insanity is when you keep doing the same thing over and over thinking something will eventually change.”
How much of your past is locked in a box then set free every year at Thanksgiving and Christmas?
The paper protecting the soon to be hanging bulb is slowly pulled back revealing an object so shiny smiles from your childhood still live inside. What seemed ageless were the corners of your eyes giving life to vigor and empowerment, a sip of rule breaking, age and experience is the object in a rearview mirror that never appears as its actual size.
What are we really doing? Of all the planets to be invited to, what were the chances that you could’ve been a single drop of water on Mars?
One of the greatest stories the Dahli Lama shares is how each departure is a new beginning and how you act today might affect where you stand tomorrow. He paints the picture of a brilliantly rich man with everything to his name…the next go around he becomes a beautiful tree seedling with bright leaves of green, a stem that will one day be several collected circles telling the tale of good winters and bad. This seedling is so precious; its energy felt several feet away from the roots that will keep it stationary for maybe a century. Then a passerby jots down a few notes: This tree is the only one that remains after the horrid forest fire that consumed the entire mountainside. It will take decades for life to get back to normal.
I’ve always thought I was taller than I looked and I’m not so good at taking my own advice but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s right.
The holiday presents too many stages whose foundations are cemented together by ample bricks made of quick judgment. Oprah has proved multiple times how indifferent love is and will forever be. During this week where family and friends spend more time together than any other time of year; pleasantly I remind you that nothing changes by choice.
Taking the time to write in my daily books while comfortably sitting on a bench at Charleston’s Historic Battery yesterday; the imagination found value in savoring the presence of twenty five years of why this small southern town is the only place on earth that continues to steal air from my lungs. The silver tipped nib connected to the poets writing hand used eyes to study the rugged wall that kept the harbor waters tamed, they lightly followed the straight lines each weathered cannon of past chapters continued to make as they invisibly taught visitors of a time in American history that was truly worth holding forever. In the left corner of my eye the Ravenel Bridge shoots above all things considered the past shaking free the strength to continue believing in dreams. As we welcome the rising sun to a future filled with endless journeys so shall the love stories that make up the songs we hum on long highways leading to a place of escape only to wonder if the image in the mirror would approve of such childish behavior while holding a writing instrument next to an imagination that still thinks it’s a kid.
I’ve always thought I was taller than I looked and I’m not so good at taking my own advice but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s right.
Two of the biggest subjects covered while taking a second to glance at the person in the mirror.
I will always believe in you first…
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
No comments:
Post a Comment