Thursday, June 27, 2013

Pictures Of A New Book: Page Forty Four

Getting to know a character in your story can sometime feel like a chapter away. Then, from out of nowhere. The next sentence pulls from the universe the perfect opportunity for them to have a rightful place inside your rhyming reason. I didn't go into my current write Scrambled Eggs with the vision to hoist more than five different faces to the surface. Painting the scene. Decorating the air with atmosphere. Giving life to wilting flowers. And in walks someone that some other day could've been just a passerby! I instantly sit back. Study the paragraphs before his or her appearance. "Crap!" I scream. "Who invited this one to the page?" Instantly the blame is put on your ten fingers. They look up at me with total attitude, "Hey! We do more than type words onto a computer screen. Remember who keeps the line hitting the pot when peeing." Adding characters is difficult when addicted to a first draft based on beginning middle and end. How do you explain it to the rest of the invisible actors? The moment a new face races onto the front side of a nameless page. I begin to ask questions. Not a word lands near or above them. I hit the daily writing journal and accept all sides to sit with me and wonder why. If enough cologne or perfume is left for the writer to paint words with. There's a big chance their image isn't going to be highlighted then deleted. Words lead me to characters. I'm typing away minding my own business when all of a sudden: A misspelled word sends out an all call alert. This reminds me of. Wow I remember when. Hey...there's no better way to thicken up some drama then to develop a character you can easily kill off. While in New York. I bumped into a comic book store manager with bright orange hair. Absolutely she had to be in my book! She wasn't supposed to appear though until three quarters of the journey. But what did the writer do? A NY scene at the park. My main characters take note of how funny life is when people act like themselves and my orange hair girl walks across the writing sharing a simple smile then leaving. I love adding new characters. Get to know yours. Don't instantly shove them into delete mode. Their appearance could lead to some very interesting eye candy.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Addiction Is Art.

A wandering "Thought Maker" bumped into my habits of writing and wondered, "Where's the man that once spent every second of each seven days to replenish the waves of modern radio? He seems to have sold a writer." Art is a medium of choice. Bright red paint with touches of blue inviting a light purplish approach can be a paragraph describing the hills south of Billings, Montana covered in blossoming Alfalfa . Bragging about how many songs you can stuff into a Radio hour is no different than digitally snapping every bird perched on the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. Boeing building planes in Charleston is Art in motion. The classics. The Art of Charleston. That's been tested time and time. Nestles next to Meeting Street with streaks of big city fashion on Kings. Camping next to a rock in Mississippi. The single limb of wind torn tree hanging around like a bored teen searching for more summer to waste. A used car sales person magically dialing into a customer's needs is a medium that still falls under the category of Art. Two old men parked on a bench laughing at pigeons chasing seedless grapes. The taxi driver that can't keep his wax textured index finger from poking his ear. Bojangles southern sweet ice tea. "Where's the man that once spent every second of each seven days to replenish the waves of modern radio? He seems to have sold a writer." Within the very steps that pointed his nose toward Radio. Some billion plus ten chapters ago. With so many shapes and sizes of communication devices. Why can't Broadcasting be? Everything Art! I'm fascinated with uptown, downtown, center city night club DJ's. Every song does sound the same. Until the DJ spins it his or her way. Lady Gaga versus Madonna while taking on Cher and Patsy Cline. What is the Comedy Zone in Charlotte but a house of Art... Picking up a writing instrument. Tapping computer keys onto a flat screen. Art? Or map making? I create so much that everything I do comes with a name. My writing instruments. Cars, RV, itty bitty hills in my backyard, every cow alongside the road. As for the people that walk into my studio. I have to make up a name! It's the first step of a brand new beginning. Eventually I collect so many different project faces. The names feel like they have to become part of my every moment. Writing blends Art into a canvas. Every name. Each personality. You don't have to be my friend to be written about. It's just gonna happen. That's what I do. I broadcast! Art! Texting. Face Booking. Tweets. You're in the right frame of mind. So how are we gonna get your words to reach beyond the super spies in the U.S. Government? A sentence. A funny moment. Misunderstood circumstances jotted down. Put it in a box. A book. On a sheet of paper. When you write. Your mind body and soul. Listen... Awareness changes everything.

Monday, June 17, 2013

The Praying Mantis Helps You Seek Stillness

Carolina summers wouldn't be complete. Without spotting. A bold, ego driven, I see everything around me Praying Mantis. Long green. Sometimes brown. Sticks with oblong heads. Cartoon like. Mechanical. Un-abrasive. I vote friendly. Anyone else might scream. Then run away quickly. Year after year the Praying Mantis tends to follow me. The Poet of a forest. Multiple trees. Wild weeds. My favorite Queens Lace. Naturally tapping the baseline shoulder of a finely tuned lapping pond. Saturday. I laughed out loud at the Praying Mantis' latest attempt at communicating. Near or next to invisible and brilliantly tiny. I had never come face to face with a newborn, hatched or however else these creative protectors emerge upon our places of thinking. Itty bitty. Like a one year old human boy child dressed in a suit and tie. Although everything around him was giant sized. This little guy. Felt no fear. He sat watching me and I him. I'd move. He moved. I tried to place him on a tree leaf. He made his way back to me. That's when you know a Spirit Guide or Keeper is reaching toward your present place of unborn history. A Praying Mantis has learned the art of blending its desires and passions with the environment it's chosen to grow with. It teaches how to still the outer mind and go within. How to transcend linear time and move according to the rhythm of nature and inner instinct. The praying mantis can remain motionless and blend with the environment becoming invisible to enemies. They hold the secrets of materialization and dematerialization and teach perception through stillness. In dream symbols, a praying mantis is a telepathic symbol of Angels warning of hypnotic aggression from the "dark side". A praying mantis appearing may be a sign of Angelic protection. Becoming involved in situations where someone may lose their head, in one way or another. The praying mantis has historically been a popular subject of mythology and folklore. In France people believed a praying mantis would point a lost child home. Muslims believe that a praying mantis will point the way to Mecca. In Africa, the mantis was thought to bring good luck to whomever it landed on and even restore life to the dead. In China the praying mantis, is the symbol of the martial arts. European people believed they were worshipful of God since they always seemed to be praying. One legend tells that Saint Francis Xavier called upon it to sing the praises of God and the mantis began to sing canticles. Of course, no discussion of the praying mantis would be complete without mentioning its most infamous "behavior". When relations between the male and female have reached their climax the female will often bite off the head of the male. Some males even require this decapitation in order to copulate. Saturday. Near or next to invisible and brilliantly tiny. This Praying Mantis meant business. If it had been words on a Kindle. I might have excused his presence as footnotes. To which I never read. Or the horridly fast voice on car commercials rapidly explaining that none of this commercial is true unless you are an angel from Heaven and have never lied to a doctor about why you might be ill. Let's break it down. The Praying Mantis didn't come to me in a dream. He or she was physical. It teaches how to "still" the outer mind and go "within." I'm always amazed at how many people don't want you to travel within. As a modern society its looked upon as being conceited to want to meditate and or grow in privacy. And yet...on the opposite side of the journey there tends to be a benefit for all involved making it less selfish. How to transcend linear time and move according to the rhythm of nature and inner instinct. I've never been a fan of the current face of a ticking clock. It's moving too quickly. My heart says I just graduated from high school but reality whispers, "Um 33 years ago." The praying mantis can remain motionless and blend with the environment becoming invisible to enemies. Constantly the new America reminds all worker bees of this no longer being a place of personal growth but rather survival of the fittest. Anytime you show emotion. You've offered a fingerprint to society. Living in the present doesn't mean fighting it. Being aware of how you enter each day helps you blend into a picture willing to change but holds off when fighting against the waves and or doubt floods the foundation...its allowed to take shape in the frame you were hired to keep. How can I not be a maker of noise? I make car commercials. I'm from Montana where the sky alone takes over the essence of believing you can be just as bright and endless. The Praying Mantis holds the secrets of materialization and dematerialization and teaches perception through stillness. When was the last time you did a halfway pushup and didn't move? Arms bent. Chest nowhere near the floor. Listen. Your mind body and soul are talking. What have you elected to ignore?

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Breaking Bad Corner

Uninvited. Unannounced. From out of left field scenes. Not a movie. Television show or weekend family outing. Scenes! Designed by words. Dumped into. Onto. Through and around a tube connected to the tips of a writer's fingerprints. To poets, book authors and bloggers. This is a corner starter. Total punishment. To a child. It's Time Out! Fits tossed. Doubt. Heavier than chocolate. Fear of failure. The need to be accepted must be respected. A cornered writer is a Pit Bull in a Rooster fight taking on Super Chicken. Hmmm that's funny. That chicken looks like Hulk Hogan. Now who wins? If you think blogging and book nudging is a challenge. Wait until you're forced to sit in itty bitty rooms with sales reps demanding drop of the hat success. Kind of like walking up to a comedian and saying, "Be funny. Now!" Except the funny people. They've got a way. To swiftly make light of Pit Bulls in a Rooster Fight. Not all Writer's have the ability to instantly print. In fact most writer's won't Polaroid camera a project. You want something? Quality is spelled: W.A.I.T! Getting around the uninvited. Unannounced. From out of left field scenes. Requires hard focus. Practice! Writing doesn't just happen. Writing is your personality on display. We all have neighbors that say nothing. Until the weekend. After they've been liquored up. I'll never suggest you swig down fire water then write. I end up killing off characters in my stories. If you're so good writer boy...get out of this one. Practice. A tree snaps off and all you have left is a stump. In my heart. There's not a word to be written. If given belief. That single strand of bark could easily become three to ten pages. Stop forcing the comedian to be funny. Let the writer in you. Breathe. I see a tree. I instantly want to know the first human that stood next to it. What do you mean it was forty years ago? How is it possible that I still feel their presence? Make up their life. Relive their challenged times. What if the tree had been part of a page? Handed to a poet. The writing left while sitting in a corner. Inspired a writer in Russia to pick up a writing instrument. Daily journaling is more fun when you can take a dogs fart and turn it into a piece of music. I couldn't give a rats butt about who'll one day trip across my thought scratches. I hope they think I'm weird. I dream of them gasping. I can't wait to watch them accuse the hand that brought me here of developing pictures not a person nearest the sun can relate with. Exactly! But damn it was fun inspiring that loner in France to stop chasing depression and pick up a writing instrument. Scribble here. Square box there. I don't care what your lettering looks like. Uninvited. Unannounced. From out of left field scenes. Pretty much I have something new to share! I accept the dare!

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Human Ego. Human Defeat. Listen To What Animals Speak

Not just this morning. But including the twenty four hour circle earlier. A visitor. Nature. Stepping twice in front of me. Before entering my place of work. Being raised in the state named Montana. A vivid array of wild creatures cuddle the corners of a path's past. As if to be looking for potential strangers. To share. To open. To build upon and or make free. Not just this morning. But including the twenty four hour circle earlier. The visitor was a Carolina native chipmunk. I had not seen one before. Not this close to the city. I greeted him with a swift smile. Gone so quickly they can be. A child may chase. The adult tends to ponder. Spiritually speaking. I began to listen. Chipmunk's Wisdom Includes: • Gathering • Ability to regulate usage • Saving for future use • Ability to carry ones nourishment (both spiritual and physical) with them • Ability to see both light and shadow • Mobility The human was the first to walk from the circle of communication. Through unconditional love animals speak. The choice becomes yours. Continue to search. Stop then listen. When the chipmunk visits this may indicate it is time to tighten spending habits. Allotting more funds into savings accounts. If a chipmunk has crossed your path you are likely to be blessed with abundance. A chipmunk sighting can also signify a need for planning for the future. Words right? Fantasy almost like Harry Potter, Twilight and The Hunger Games. Ego keeps the human away. A feeling of being bigger and better than. Wisdom isn't the size of the brain. One look at today's Big Business society and animals running free in forests of trees see...the human has allowed itself to be caged. Unlocking the message. I openly admit. I've spent two years to date planning a future I can't reach. Spending habits being the weakest of decisions made. All too human-like we assume abundance carries the scent of money. What if abundance was acceptance? What if it were fresh ideas waiting to be brought to the surface of reality? What if abundance undressed? Standing before you. Answers to lifelong questions.