In the event of my passing.

In the event of my passing
may the Lord carry me on
For I will be done with all my roaming
having never found my home

In the event of my passing
know that I learned my song
For every day was a melody waiting
that I heard but sang it wrong

In the event of my passing
look underneath the floor
For each day I built the future
I buried the past a little more

In the event of my passing
open every box
For some things stay hidden
that should never have been lost

In the event of my passing
may God find me whole
For I have never felt so empty
as when my body turns away from my soul

In the event of my passing
may my loved ones all have peace
For they knew somewhere inside
that I should be released

In the event of my passing
let the words of God resign me
For even after every puff of smoke
I always waited on His timing

Now What?

Something that is very eye/heart opening to me about getting better after a life of depression, is realizing you don't know how to handle a lot of consistent joy in your life. This is my experience. I often develop thoughts like, "man, this day is so damn beautiful, and you haven't screwed it up, and you've done so much already today, people are smiling, God is with you, you're fulfilled...now what?"

Memory

    A couple days ago, I had a lot to say. I had connected the dots and filled in the gaps. My mind was telling me something. My heart was making sense of my journey. I was laying in bed looking up at the ceiling, not trying to sleep, not looking at a screen of any sort. Just had time to lay down and do nothing. I laid on the bed for a while realizing...things.  Then I went into the bathroom. Sat there a while. Thinking about writing again; I had so much good sense to put down on paper, so much to say.  After the bathroom, I must have started doing something else...because I don't remember anything I was thinking.
    As I'm only remembering that I had "something" to say, yet not the context, all I can think is, perhaps the point is, write it all down exactly when you're being compelled to do so from within.
I regret not doing that.
    Sometimes I wonder if losing your memory is a blessing. Usually, I think its a curse. If you're a better person in general, a more stable person, a happier person more often, who's not controlled by emotions anymore, who doesn't feel the pain of confusion and doubt so prevailing in my heart and mind anymore, a more confident person, isn't that a blessing?
    Or have I transformed into a man with a selfish heart?
    I am not free of responsibility in who I am today, but God did the real work. I did the dysfunctional  parts.  However, God has made me very aware of each path that I should and shouldn't go, and each one I get stuck down. More and more, as long as I'm staying close, he strengthens me to overcome self-inflicted burdens I've carried my whole life. I mean, I have no choice in my faith. The truth happens to you. You can't unbelieve an obvious presence of God in your life very easily. So with this strength, there go I. I'd call that a blessing many fold.
    

    A l l   m y   l e t t e r s   h a v e    t u r n e d    i n t o    p r a y e r s

       A l l     m y     p o e m s     a r e     b r e a t h     i n  t h e     a i r

            M a y     a l l      m y      w o r d s    n o t      d e s p a i r  

Audrey

I met Audrey Hepburn on a bicycle once
I knew right away, she was not ordinary.

Opposite of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind =
Eternal Shadows of the Regrettable Heart.

If You.

      I f   yo u 
r e a l ly,  r ea l ly,  rea l l y    t  r  u s t  
y our   h e ar t   a n d  y o ur   co n sci en c e 
a nd   s to p   l is t en in g    t o   e v e ry on e     
 y o u 'l l   be   h a p p y. . . 
and you will know you're on the right road.

Descriptions

If I leave my front door open in the evenings, and the screen door shut, I can subtly observe all the surroundings from here to there, outside my house, on my corner, in my neighborhood. It's that rare part of the year when the weather allows this. Otherwise you'd have to turn your air conditioner off, if you're not wealthy. There's a ball game going on across seventh street. I can smell coffee from the shop on the corner. I can smell carne aside cooking. I can hear my neighbor sanding wood in his backyard. Kids yelling. Coaches chanting. People clapping and cheering. Cars zooming by down seventh. Aircraft backdraft in the air. Squelching disc brakes. I can smell laundry. Boxed powdered laundry detergent. Cut grass. A faint draft of curry. Dogs barking. Hoses shooting. Voices walking. Shoes scrapping. Car doors closing and opening. Laughing. The smell of cut wood. The sound of my dogs nails running across a hardwood floor. Kitty cats meowing. 

Honesty = Travel

I love honesty. That pure gut wrenching vulnerable position we're all faced with from time to time to look at ourselves and make a stance, be it small or big. Or that pure unfiltered brandish that can't be denied. Give'n it all  up to fate. Honesty: No trees, no bushes, no fence. You just know. No or yes. After 34+ years, I can't whack away at some distracting bush in the vineyard when the path is already cleared for me in one direction. My heart is weird, yet true. Complicated, yet true. "The only one for me is me," God tells me... "Until the time for you has come."

I've traveled the earth and one thing remains the same in any culture: respect.

I've been guilty of disrespecting a few cultures by accident but, only while in America. Nothing major, just minor miscommunications because of traditions or culture I wasn't familiar with. Most people understand at least the effort. The ones that didn't, passed by with their own indifference to my culture. But I discovered long long ago, somewhere in Belgium, that cultural differences were only surface level, and sincere humanity always flowed, given the patient chance. 

That's one thing I love about touring the world. Meeting new people that share the same old spirit you do, and almost magically we are connecting the dots to the present moment.

The Effects.

Sometimes it makes me feel nostalgic
whimsical, flirtatious, sad, inquisitive, or
kinda extra sweet near bedtime...
I have a couple cocktails,
I think about the good times, and
only the best of times in life, I feel sugary
For that smile, that laugh, that warmth
of arms, or the long, long depths
that our eyes meet at,
never acknowledging that depth
then or there, or ever unfortunately
It makes me laugh at all the aches
that keep us affected
the effects that bring me back
to where I am, here
lucky, just to know who
I am.

Romans 12

A Living Sacrifice

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

The Sunset Boat

When a man is broken, he is not whole. It is this void he searches to fill. Like a bucket of water with a hole, it keeps losing its fill.
Not fit for a companion, not fit to be a leader. Not bound to a certainty, not even bound at all.

     There once was a man who set off to sail his boat into the sunset, leaving everything behind, but looking back smiling and waving. When the horizon disappeared, he noticed he was alone. His boat suddenly seemed so small in the vast ocean, as he looked at his hands on the helm. The water was so wide and far and seemed never to end. And when the sun sunk down, the night was dark and cold. It was those times when he heard the depths of the unknown beneath him. He could feel his mortal vessel afloat. He could sense the things greater than himself. He could find his reason for leaving less and less. And that night time darkness slowly washed him further away.
     In the morning, the light of day seemed to refill his dreams, waking him up to possibilities each day to move further ahead into the unknown waters. Something about the morning's fresh breeze, whispered to him that he can keep going, keep churning the wake behind him. Sometimes even the wind in the day time was so strong it lashed his boat around, tempting to crack the hull, but the light of the sun equipped him with the energy to navigate the waves and maintain his strength. When the calm finally came, he was worn out and couldn't enjoy it. He would only fall asleep in the wheelhouse.
     The sunsets in the west were his only reunion with his reason why he left in the first place. There were so many brilliant colors in a sunset, something must be at the end. 

#1

     I'm addicted to many things. I have to admit it to myself now. There is no escape until you see the light. I need more strength than I have ever needed before. Traveling had some answers. I understood where I was from a long way away.
    As I press the buttons to make these words sentences, it is this addiction I have to being on my phone that torments me, and hurts my eyes and wastes my time.
At least, right now, I'm writing.
     

Father's Day

My Dad...

A man of few words
But well understood
A strong hand
But a gentle understanding
A man who reaches goals
And sets up more along the way
A great listener
With wisdom happily ready
A tireless worker
With youthful energy to succeed
A great charm
With a smile that can melt hearts
A genius mind
With a humble heart
An efficient tasker
Who leaves no time for waste
A seasoned sailor
With skills to navigate the sea and land.
A born leader
Who's example breeds pride in his followers
An experienced life coach
Who's advice can breath life into the down-hearted
A constant steady provider
Who has never left his loved ones hungry
A funny joyous drinker
Who's alcohol only brings out the childlike giddy
Humor and deep love in his humble heart
A stoic and highly intelligent being
Whether in decisions, money, family, or matters of the heart
A careful wordsmith
Who's words and writing is portrayed in the utmost thoughtful concern
A fun, adventurous seeker
Who greets life and danger with a blessed joy
A part time teacher, chef, farmer, builder, gardener,
Accountant, deacon, singer, sailor, captain, counselor,
Volunteer, fisherman, traveler, coordinator, engineer,
Inventor, creator..
And a Full time father and friend.


I love you Pop.
-your Son.

Life is a jet plane, it moves too fast. 

Marijuana

Mental incapacity over a period of time.

Paint.

 I write about a river,

                         
                     or a tree by the water


                                           the view of the sky    


                                  or a day gone by


 I write about a bridge


                                         or a concrete valley


           
                                                             a rich cultured land        

   
                                  or a wide empty field


 I write about a canyon

   

                            or a storm on the rise

 
                       
                                                               a border line crossing



                                                    or a tale of true loss


I write about the wind


                              or how it blows

                   
                                                       a gust off the ocean


                      or a whisper in your ear



             
 I write about your song

             

                                                 or the ache in my memory


                                                     

                                  I write about the paint in the scenery

Pastabilities

Io sono scrive canzone per te,
dove sei?

Ala Italia? I no?

1.

In the middle of a room;
   bright natural light glowing
white curtains hang over a worn oak floor
sparse furniture in shades of brown
wood and leather nothing modern.

He sits straight up on his couch
cross legged and silent
this ache of nothing
is sitting within
his body like a stone
He prays with all his muscles
his hands are abused
his head has always to be cleared.
when his breath has opened
water flows through his bones
light bursts out of his eyes
his dance is like fire works

In the middle of a room;
 in a house on a corner
some man is living alone
with a dog.

Wanna know what the devil has been doing to the thoughts of mankind all this time?

 He tricks the ones who love themselves to think that they're going to heaven, and

he tricks the ones who love God to think that they're going to hell.

the pine.



  

   












Eighty-three year old eyes 

haunted eyes 

by sight of old things 

tired fingers, worn hands, foggy mirrors and her garden gloves. 

the door creaks on one hinge, it whines   

it opens slow and he sees again 

the pine 

his frail teeth clamp together and his lips tremble 

the pine 

trembles of a reminding wind 

the way the tabacco fields only grew with her 

her by her farmers side 

helping at harvest time 

but time haunts his eyes 

and time chills his spine 

and he can't turn away 

his eyes from the pine.

"The truth ends every conversation."


   - Jerry Seinfeld 

be here now

I'm sitting on a couch in my living room listening to a song that i was listening to last year at this very moment. i remember it. the day the time the hour the minute where i was where i went where i am, i was here.

The Stepkids change my mind about new music.

The Stepkids! Finally I found a new band that is changing my mind again!!

They got that soul my brother Luke has been looking for.

Funny video too!

Always with a cup o' coffee, not! My bladder is shot! My gall is exploding! My stomach is congealed! Always with a cup o' coffee, not! Not one pot! Not one cup! No americano, espresso, three or four shot 'a brazilian nut!  

1 5  d a y s,

    N O  C O F F E E .

Phx life is good. Work is all I feel like I'm doing. I feel like I'm beginning to remember life out on the fringes again, but how different it is from this. It's the other half of my heart. I can't help it. But I'm thankful for every day I'm given and I'm feeling the clear light more consistently. Regardless of where I'm @:)

My cup of coffee finds me in Phoenix, Arizona in a mediocre coffee shop Ive been coming to every morning for years, getting the same drink, and they still don't know my name. I'm thinking of something to do, somewhere to meet you, that's new.

Thursday 10:47 PM

Lord,
           Let them have peace.       
Lord,
           Let them have peace.  May they feel freedom.  From themselves, into You.
           Let them have peace.  From within themselves, unto You.
Lord,
           Let them have peace.
Lord,
          Let them have peace.  The broken-hearted, the broken.
Lord,
          Let them have peace.
Lord,
          Let them have peace.
                                   

Fortitude is the guard and support of the other virtues.

Darkheart. "Serenade" Seattle, Wa. May 2013

Sell Your Crap. Pay Your debt. Do what you Love.

How I Love the Monsoon Season

Saved

Old mates and their soul mates

I get a fuzzy feeling when I'm out and about probably sitting in a dark corner of a restaurant or bar and I see someone I used to know from way back walking with their lover. Sometimes they're much fatter than I remember, sometimes much skinnier, sometimes much worse looking than I remember, sometimes I'm surprised at how great they look compared to my instant memory as I recognize them. Good for them! I say to myself, in all sincerity. It really does bring me joy to see the kid who never had a girlfriend in high school, or never had any friends, or even the jock who had all the ladies in high school, paired up with a wife or husband. In all these recognitions that pass me, none have ever recognized me... (smirky smile) and that's always the way I've liked it.
A new friend once wished me well as I left town saying to me, "you'll be fine, you're a fucking chameleon."

Tryin to Get to Heaven

Another week in regular time. Work is good for the mind and body. Let everyday be a vitamin that softly dissolves and nourishes.

No one.

No matter where I go

No matter where I am

No matter who I meet

No matter who I see

I hold on to you

No matter what I do

It's not a fading memory

It's what I pray and believe

Its these that are the most real

No person place or thing can steal

I cant let them go

For better or for woe

I miss you

every single day

And that hasn't gone away

No matter where I go

No matter where I am

No matter who I meet

Or what they try to do

No one, compares to you.

Maajid Nawaz

EnlargeHattie Ellis/Getty Images

"I am everything I am today, because of my past. ... It would be very difficult for me to say I wish I were a different person." 

— Maajid Nawaz

Dignity

Fat man lookin’ in a blade of steel
Thin man lookin’ at his last meal
Hollow man lookin’ in a cottonfield
For dignity

Wise man lookin’ in a blade of grass
Young man lookin’ in the shadows that pass
Poor man lookin’ through painted glass
For dignity

Somebody got murdered on New Year’s Eve
Somebody said dignity was the first to leave
I went into the city, went into the town
Went into the land of the midnight sun

Searchin’ high, searchin’ low
Searchin’ everywhere I know
Askin’ the cops wherever I go
Have you seen dignity?

Blind man breakin’ out of a trance
Puts both his hands in the pockets of chance
Hopin’ to find one circumstance
Of dignity

I went to the wedding of Mary Lou
She said, “I don’t want nobody see me talkin’ to you”
Said she could get killed if she told me what she knew
About dignity

I went down where the vultures feed
I would’ve gone deeper, but there wasn’t any need
Heard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men
Wasn’t any difference to me

Chilly wind sharp as a razor blade
House on fire, debts unpaid
Gonna stand at the window, gonna ask the maid
Have you seen dignity?

Drinkin’ man listens to the voice he hears
In a crowded room full of covered-up mirrors
Lookin’ into the lost forgotten years
For dignity

Met Prince Phillip at the home of the blues
Said he’d give me information if his name wasn’t used
He wanted money up front, said he was abused
By dignity

Footprints runnin’ ’cross the silver sand
Steps goin’ down into tattoo land
I met the sons of darkness and the sons of light
In the bordertowns of despair

Got no place to fade, got no coat
I’m on the rollin’ river in a jerkin’ boat
Tryin’ to read a note somebody wrote
About dignity

Sick man lookin’ for the doctor’s cure
Lookin’ at his hands for the lines that were
And into every masterpiece of literature
For dignity

Englishman stranded in the blackheart wind
Combin’ his hair back, his future looks thin
Bites the bullet and he looks within
For dignity

Someone showed me a picture and I just laughed
Dignity never been photographed
I went into the red, went into the black
Into the valley of dry bone dreams

So many roads, so much at stake
So many dead ends, I’m at the edge of the lake
Sometimes I wonder what it’s gonna take
To find dignity

Copyright © 1991 by Special Rider Music

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/dignity#ixzz2XX7elSIN

I wish you well
I really do
May your trails be happy
And keep you safe too

Sleep is a reunion with you 

For better and for worse

My dreams are beyond my control

But I didn't want to wake up

Saving Grace - Wherever I am welcome, is where I'll be.

If you find it in Your heart, can I be forgiven?
Guess I owe You some kind of apology
I’ve escaped death so many times, I know I’m only living
By the saving grace that’s over me

By this time I’d-a thought I would be sleeping
In a pine box for all eternity
My faith keeps me alive, but I still be weeping
For the saving grace that’s over me

Well, the death of life, then come the resurrection
Wherever I am welcome is where I’ll be
I put all my confidence in Him, my sole protection
Is the saving grace that’s over me

Well, the devil’s shining light, it can be most blinding
But to search for love, that ain’t no more than vanity
As I look around this world all that I’m finding
Is the saving grace that’s over me

The wicked know no peace and you just can’t fake it
There’s only one road and it leads to Calvary
It gets discouraging at times, but I know I’ll make it
By the saving grace that’s over me

Copyright © 1980 by Special Rider Music

Covenant Woman

Covenant woman got a contract with the Lord
Way up yonder, great will be her reward
Covenant woman, shining like a morning star
I know I can trust you to stay where you are

And I just got to tell you
I do intend
To stay closer than any friend
I just got to thank you
Once again
For making your prayers known
Unto heaven for me
And to you, always, so grateful
I will forever be

I’ve been broken, shattered like an empty cup
I’m just waiting on the Lord to rebuild and fill me up
And I know He will do it ’cause He’s faithful and He’s true
He must have loved me so much to send me someone as fine as you

And I just got to tell you
I do intend
To stay closer than any friend
I just got to thank you
Once again
For making your prayers known
Unto heaven for me
And to you, always, so grateful
I will forever be

Covenant woman, intimate little girl
Who knows those most secret things of me that are hidden from the world
You know we are strangers in a land we’re passing through
I’ll always be right by your side, I’ve got a covenant too

And I just got to tell you
I do intend
To stay closer than any friend
I just got to thank you
Once again
For making your prayers known
Unto heaven for me
And to you, always, so grateful
I will forever be

Copyright © 1980 by Special Rider Music

Wherever there is sea
May you feel free
Wherever there is sun
May you freely run
Wherever there is wine
May you enjoy the time
Wherever there is family
May you feel at home
Wherever there is travel
May you happily roam

You haunt my dreams
You keep coming back
Is it my illness's illusions
Or are you trying to stay in my heart
The fight continues as I sleep
I am pleading you keep leaving
We both keep weeping
Is it just my memory sleeping
Or are we speaking in dreams?

"You never give up, do you.."
"Only when I'm absolutely forced too. But I'm a good loser."
"Well, you've had a lot of practice."

God's Will Be With You

Enjoy the sea
and the wind that carries ye
for its not the wind that
sends me here
its not the interest
nor the weather
or the year

You made it very clear
like looking through glass
You made it very obvious
like tracing my portrait photograph

The thing that puzzles your heart
is the thing that doesn't omit the obvious
But there's a time and a place
and a place in time
for those who are only curious

If joy moves your arms and legs
If spirit pushes your train
If love keeps you open
May you dance in the rain

You made a bridge for me
and stayed on one side
You meant every step you took
while my faith was walking blind

Van Morrison - And the Healing Has Begun

The best things, the real things, the things that matter or affect us the most, cannot be said, or expressed in so many words. Maybe its just the real truth, that cannot be said. That cannot take that risk because its, that, true. Maybe it feels more real if it goes on untold or hidden. Maybe it isn't real at all, if something doesn't compel the heart to shout out about it.
You can't expect a dog to trust an owner that beats it, and still tries to get it to retrieve or come.
As you can't expect to pretend your footprints will be washed away in a desert.

Bait and Switch

Been trying to come up with that phrase that describes something like a tease. Something like a give and take away. Something like a game. Something like dangling a carrot over a rabbit. Something like a show. Something trying to get in and destroy. Something like a trick. Something wishy washy. Something tender on top but stone inside. Something that stirs the pot then overturns it. Something that pushes the right buttons to keep the game in play. Something that takes advantage of the truth but can't believe in it.

This thing I'm trying to describe, I don't know it. Yet I do. But I don't understand the point of it.

The point of the tease is to control. But why? 

The stone that the builder refused, will only become the head cornerstone.

A Bear Outside My Window
By Herberth Quinton

I was not asleep
Tucked tight in my bed
I had the blankets pulled up to my head 
I stared out the windows
To the forest outside
I waited watching
Would he show up or hide?
But just as moon fell asleep in the sky
I saw a great shadow pass my window by
Lurching and leaning and wobbling side to side
Fur and fuzz and hair and hyde
Winter has past and he's emerged from his den
Looking for the river to catch the salmon
He must have got lost and wandered up the hill
To my cottage on the mountain where I laid so still
I wonder if he knows I'm just behind the glass
And if he would remember this spot from the year last
How I helped him out of a trap, I wondered
If he would remember that
So I crawled out of my bed so quiet
And tip toed across the floor
I thought I'd try and surprise my silly old Uncle Joe
But it was to my surprise not at all my uncle though
But a great big scary look-alike hairy bear outside my window!

Too Late for Tears.  Lloyd Price and His Orchestra.
The Lonely One by Lee Hazelwood & Duane Eddy
Sittin in the Balchony by Eddy Cochran
 Have You Seen Her by the Chi-Lites
Midnight Cowboy by Ferrante & Teicher

Easy Street Records, albums on the table at my last breakfast.
Eating: a Born to Run breakfast sandwich and black coffee.
Finally saw that guy who played drums on my last record pass by.
He didn't recognize me. But then again, no one did this time 'round.

Rooftops shaped like cones covered in moss sticking up high in overshadowing sky. An iron bird spinning in the fierce wind. Salt air off the harbor, fresh, fishy, musty, clean and like old wood. Rain, rain, rain. Darkness and rain in May. The sun catches a few breaks. Then whooshhhhh the rivery sound of the forest taken by wind. Limbs bending twitching shaking twirling breaking. Leaves moving the same way but hanging on by strength of Spring. Charcoal, white and smears of blue palette the sky constantly passing and transforming. On the Mountain of the Sequoias, over the Valley of the Deadwoods. 

The description of weather, is like the wind through teeth, like the wind put into voice. To describe the sun shining is to be outside of time. 

When You're Naked

I'm naked,
Leaning over a typewriter
Holding a cup of coffee
Looking for these letters
Spilling
My gut's out
Fattened by wheat and hops
Flabbed immuscularly
Naked not nude
Nothing sexy
Nothing shrewd
Looking for these letters
To drape some words
To wear around me
So they can get a read on me
Some people can't understand you
When you're naked.

I Believe in You - Sinead O' Connor sings Bob Dylan

Lucinda Williams

Someone posed this question to me: "Aren't we just pretending nothing's wrong with the world?"

"Oh inverted world." -James Mercer. How long must we pretend nothing's wrong?  You've popularized too far. Youve used your radios. You've used your televisions, your Internet, your satellite, your dish, your cables, and then from the inside out like a snake coming out if its skin, your using everything. And now, youve even got more "friends" than your counterpart. You got the attention. You got the vote. You got the winning smile. You got that "Mr. Personality"charm! Youve even got good hearted people. You got some fanatics, salesmen, and you got government and laws. But you also got some religions too. Of course you do, salesmen you. Oh, extroverted world! "Vanity of vanities,  all is vanity." Ecc. 1.
When will we again accept and remember that we did not create ourselves? That we were created inside our mother by our mother and father. Just as they were created by their mother and father.And so on and so behind us into humankind.  And we cannot physically manifest as we please. God is God. We are we. We are made by He. If you wanna know the way to go, to be fulfilled, and know its it, it's in the Holy Spirit. That appeared on this day, as the apex of new days throughout time. The Pentecost. The Holy Spirit descended upon the earth, and breathed on His disciples as to give them the spirit in human senses which is the beginning of the Spirit of Christ. Jesus had died. His followers were keeping strong as best they could. Then he appeared to them telling them to touch his wounds. Thats when he breathed on them. They were filled with strength and joy, laughter and tears! It says that people who saw the apostles after Jesus appeared to them,thought they were drunk all the time. And Peter said, "how could we be drunk, it's only nine in the morning?"
Peter was being frank, he wasn't making a joke.  They were so fulfilled by the Holy Spirit with a hearty joy and strength. And a new vitality to spread the Gospel and to keep the faith. God is real. God is a living God, like the grape vine always ripe offering itself to us. Seeking our love with an unending sweet patience. God is living by the way of the Holy Spirit, which is, Jesus Christ. I wish that every person in this world, introvert or extrovert, would seek the Holy Spirit, and find the strength, excitement, and awaking of Christ upon them, and know.

Here or Where.

I'm going use some words said to me by some people making small talk. In a diverse melting pot you'll always hear a variety of opinions about the city you're in. Sitting outside a cafe last week two well suited older gentlemen were walking past as the sun was shining through the blue sky saying, "Seattle is the best place in the world (when the sun is shining.)" the other guy, looking new in town, looked up and around and said, "yeah, I bet."
There's a darkside that makes up what I can gather as about fifty percent of the population that won't ever give an opinion about the city. Yet, most of these folks don't enjoy going outside on average, nor do they enjoy the sun. They spend most of their time in the dark; inside the home, in clubs, bars, or in low or artificial light. My opinion is that it seems to be a direct rejection of the sun's light.
Some people in a transient town are just searching for something they may very well find, and others will not. One girl the other night told me, "I hate this place, I'm leaving." She has been here since last September. As I swiveled around my stool to listen, she said, "everyone gives you the cold shoulder. I'm going to New Orleans."
 "Know anyone there?" I asked. 
"nope," she shook her head and smirked.
"well its the sweet south, that's something different" I offered. I waved goodbye and wished her good luck.
"This place is so clicky." another person said to me once.
"Its hard to make friends the older you get." another northwest resident admitted.
"It's easy to succeed here." said one woman to me in a random chance meeting.
Perspective! It's all perspective and circumstance that make up opinions. 
The girl who had the positive perspective turned out to be the nicest, most genuine person I've met in Seattle.

Song: Precious Angel

This song is always on my heart. Brings me up. Fills me with joy, strength, and hope.

This morning as the suns coming up, my cup o coffee finds itself leaning over the edge of the Edmonds ferry. The sound is calm. Sea lions playfully popping up their heads from the deep for a breath of clean cool air. They're saying hello to me. Looking at me straight in the eyes so innocent almost as if they know what I need. I wave out to their familiar charm, "good morning Lenerd!"

Therefore what must be done today is a visual, animated collage of life through my eyes.
I will begin to begin.

A cup of vivace, a vegan blueberry scone, a man wheeling his walker down the middle of the street, a girl jumping the white lines of the cross walk on one leg while the other is bound up in a cast, a junkie buying dog food, construction foreman driving a $115K Mercedes to the jobsite, coffee drinkers soaking the sunlight being sure not to show too much affection for it, people from Alaska, Arizona, Army, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard, 8am shopping girls, 2 man lovers hiding in the brush kissing in secret, Julia's on Broadway, a beautiful huge head of African hair bouncing down the block, jet planes blasting through the rain clouds, photographers shooting lamp posts, well-dressed buskers doing magic, hundreds of backpacks, a pile of free couches, one man already passed went home changed clothes and walked past the other direction, some leaves blowin in the wind, people blowing smoke, dogs on chains, preschoolers on leashes, multi-colored facial expressions, a Japanese musician playing that dreamy instrument I can't remember the name of, young singles courting during lunch dates, new David Byrne songs, melting snow, mountain caps of sunlight, woman on a cigarette break leaning one leg against a street lamp, a crumpet shop, the falafel king, tourists of all shapes, sizes, colors and smells, sunlight! on the east side of the street, maps of all kinds, the green tortoise, a van full of old crippled men being unloaded at the Showgirls club, skinny cyclists, flower venders, fruit venders, new summer hats, fresh newspapers, sellers, talkers so high it makes you nervous just thinking about their come down, the smells of salty ocean water, coffe grounds, pandoori spice, onions, garlic, marajuana, cumin, curry, gasoline and oil, fresh fish on ice, flowers in bloom, diesel engines, roasting nuts, clouds and sun. Yes, clouds have a scent, and the smell of the sun is like jasmin and white wine.
The green grass is growing tall in the Spring, cool and a little damp on your back and the sun is warm and hot on your skin, couple a Life O Reilly's taking the afternoon in the meadow grass laying on their bellies and backs, the sun is glowing on people, the mood is high, bright, hopeful, light, streets are busy all day, music is somewhere in everything, boats on stilts, houses balancing on tree limbs overlooking 300 ft deep gorges, water taxis, 400ft steal boats carrying 500 tons of cars floating over the ocean surface in the middle of the night.

 I was_this close to choosing negativity! But dang-git maraungit I've been through that!
And today was meant for joy! I choose life, today.

The Monkey and Monkeyman

A friendly ol' monkey jumped in my pants n' said,

"there ain't much room in here but I'll teach you how to dance!"

I wiggled and I hopped and I bounced and I flopped

"now you know!" said the monkey as he talked,

then he pointed with his finger to the sun n' said,

"run, man, run!"

Sometimes even the joy and the fun and the excitement of newness make me nostalgic. Some things are forgettable. Some people are unforgettable. Some things will always take my breath away, if only for an aching moment.  

Friends are friends forever.

This song came springing from some long forgotten time in my youth.
While today, it may seem a little cheesy, it still rings true. To me.

Confessional

Hello, my name is ____ and I have a mental disorder. I don't know what it's called clinically, but it could be compared to schizophrenia or bi-polar symptoms. No, I have not been diagnosed by a psychiatrist or a doctor. But by the loved ones who know me better than they do. And by my own self evaluation in truth. I'm not ashamed of it now, because I'm getting a handle on how to manage it, and do better, rather than worse most days. This "disorder", or "feeling" begins in my mind and circulates throughout my body, even causing physical pain and discomfort. It travels out of my mouth, then back into my head and through my muscles. These symptoms create a "fear" that is usually debilitating to the mind and body. The reason it must be a "disorder", is because one moment its as if everything is normal, even keeled, and steady.  And then without warning or recognition it rips out of me emotions and hurt and emptiness as if I've never healed from any wounds I've received. And I go burning inside against these feelings and the wonder why they exist is crushing in itself.
But the truth is, that I HAVE been healed of all my wounds throughout the course of my life. I AM healed, everyday. And that I am a completely and highly functioning human being. I have achieved great feats in my life and traveled a million miles around the world to learn that I have to watch my every step. Sitting at the table and sharing a meal with families and friends of many cultures. And learning about myself and humanity through these experiences. I have created literature, songs, poems, melodies, photographs, visual art, living structures, and yes, I have created love, happiness, joy, care for others, an ear for others problems, and compassion for the well being of others. I have created all that and more throughout my life, and have never ceased in doing so.
I am someone who's passion is for love on earth. But fights against the opposition to love and the rejection of love, within myself. The fighting within myself has been my weakness. It has been just as strong as me, and I am very physically strong, but the weakness is also very strong. And as I have said it can and has beat me sometimes in the battle.
There are many answers. There are many cures. But the question for me is, can I manage the practice of managing my own psyche everyday?
It's tough. It isn't easy. It's a struggle. I need the help of loved ones sometimes. I need the right order of business surrounding me. I too, need the ear of a friend, the compassion of a lover, the company of good friends. Like we all do sonetimes. I need to do something with my hands. I need to continue to train my brain. I need to love this traveling man. I need to keep my eyes on the prize. And keep my head from the shadows. And remember to remember. God in all things. And thankfulness and forgiveness to my loved ones and friends.
It ain't easy dadgumitt! But the true me is worth it. 

Some days are diamonds

some days are stone.

Oh, Mockingbird, Have You Ever Heard, Words That I Never Heard?

Go Mad! Go!

Go crazy! Go nuts! Go insane! Go bananas! Go Ape! Go!

Go get lost! Go take a hike! Go fly a kite! Go roll your bones! Go walk alone! Go work for pone! Go!

Go go-ith where you might! Go and don't go where you don't like! Go gone! Go!

Go get some! Go give some! Go lend some! Go share some! Go anywhere some! Go!

Go far! Go near! Go here! Go there! Go with her! Go with him! Go with them! Go! 

Go happy! Go sad! Go uncertain! Go mad! Go!

Time.

                                                          Time. Written by Tom Waits

Pit er
Pat er
Pit er Pa t
Errr
Pit r pa
tt rr
P i t e r
P a t e r
Pitter
Patter
Pitter
Patter
Pitter
April
Showers
Bring
Muddy
Trousers

"I know what it's like to feel lonely. I know that over the years you have longed for connections deep and meaningful, but have felt disconnected. Im sorry you've struggled. Life is hard. I think there's beauty in solitude. And where you're at now sounds beautiful."

- Letter from a friend

In Spring,
the thorns are covered
by the blossoming flower.

I function and communicate on a spiritual level. That makes living more fulfilling and more complex. The whales understand. The animals do too. They just walk funny.

Don't throw things on the ground! It's Earth Day!

Coming out of the woodwork

These things are coming out of the trees around here! While they're sorta cute and sad looking, they're also very vicious and sharp!

Singing to the Little Eagles Today!

To All the little eagles upon their golden wings
Today we'll come and rescue you with a hopeful song we'll sing!

www.facebook.com/brianvoganandhisgoodbuddies

Playing at Little Eagles school, downtown Seattle today!

Usually what you don't see is right in front of your face, and what you do see is a mirage behind you.

Faircompanies.com