i didn’t have the heart to ask the best
to play that bass line
it was central and funky
i dare not box into the corner of soul
in terms of soul
i layed into it that morning
hating its beauty and rhythm
Walking up the city sidewalk, I realize I walk at an “average” pace. Inevitably, some people zip by me. Others block my way. Wherever I’m going, though, my original quest is inevitably sidelined in favor of the Slow-Walking Women.
Am I being creepy?Continue reading
When considering the heightened racial rhetoric raised after the death of George Floyd, I’m once again facing down stereotypes that are applied to me, a middle-aged American white guy. Luckily, my thoughts, demeanor, attitude, and spirituality have crystallized during the past few years, and I’m much more comfortable doing a deep dive into my heart.Continue reading
Parroting dramatic language on social media (and therefore, like it or not, in real life) is diminishing our motivation and—to some extent—our ability to choose precise words. The pool of original ideas based on self experience is slowly and subtly being replaced with words relating to how the experience of others is constantly communicated via mass media.Continue reading
This little skeleton was on the stoop at the end of my block.
I thought it would be a beautiful painting. I ordered my own Father’s Day gift: The Paint Your Life thing.
Only, apparently not *my* life. They rejected it. Would not take my money. Thought it violated the “dead pets” clause.
Let’s just murder art, then.