Distracted by pixelating video of Quinnipiac River

mypillow, mythoughts, my my my

I thought of the word lunARTics for one purpose and googled it to find another: LUNARtics  which also had creatures and fine art but a wholly different, delightful feel. I saw the infomercial about mypillow.com and then proceeded to have the most restLESS sleep I have had in month - the power of suggestion. I self talked that I would not log on to the PC today --- I then dismissed the chat. I did the same about riding the stationery bicycle during CBS SUNDAY Morning. That new theory that the Shroud of Turin may be authentic but the "resurrection" an anomoly of the shroud, was interestingly plausible story.  I did read the local paper including this cartoon .

I was looking forward sharing a piece of work - in part to validate my current state of reinvention - but that is on hold maybe indefinitely so there is no link to it here. 

I have lost so many random but seemingly connected thoughts by delaying to login.  Instead I have made DAL with Beet Juice from the local Winter CSA beets and the mint in abundance in my Areogarden. At the momment, there is no one to share this delight with. I can not add a link for you to taste it but I will attest to its goodness, sweeter than any I have had before.  No Pic either because you know what DAL looks like and that rarely can be made into a pretty pic.

The name of this blog is rooted in this story

Today I am reminded of artists, self-proclaimed whom I name by their actions.      

Rape is an atrocity most often committed by men.

It requires a grandiose sense of MEanness.

I have been.

The 1^st time was by a door-to-door preacher.

He professed to be committed to a Universal Calling

Of Ascended Masters and the Mother Prophet. He knocked.

He locked. One hand over my mouth, the other guiding

his missile forcibly between my todays and tomorrows.

“If you are a victim of your goodness” then where

is your protector, my boyhood friend, your husband?

I knew too well if I could scream, it would become a gang coming.

The hours, days, years to follow – like a stroke of insight

they bare witness to cognitive dissonance – the left brain poking at details that the right

brain could no longer associate with life, laughter and  love. 

Rehabilitation is the work of day mares.  Numbness cloaks

secrets in would be truth. Never to be a next time, forever closed until ^...

Taken with the authority of a preacher fox, counselor on family matters.  Come, give voice to loss.

Trust in the Word. And man, bearing the title husband – thrust unwanted to claim my tomorrows.

Pressed against the headboard – colorful words filled my pages. Disconnected like the pornography

that overlay an ethics video. *   This story told once in private to a fox and the other day someone who could believe.

No youthful beauty remains.  Numbness defeats the possibilities.

Yet some days I trust in serendipity and the right brain seeks light and images and music. The art comes.

Words try to protect – cautioning no full disclosure.

* 300 hour linear editing project with footage from Ethics Lectures at Yale that was copied over with the excess of a life of depravity @ 1986. 

The Meaning of Work

I began to wonder these past few weeks, as I do more and more non-income producing work, has my idea of work changed? Was my decision to redirect my life's work energy appropriately timed? What are my daily behaviors telling me about my comfort zone?

I had been defining success as 1) getting the most out of my teams and 2) achieving actionable stakeholder understanding of the relationship between what analysis determined they needed and their concept of desired result. It had appeared to me that the gap between analytical findings and expected results widened; once my employer became a public company whose focus shifted to short-term deliverables within massive merger initiatives.

 

The decision to 'retire' as part of my redirection, seems correct on all counts. Ironically, in a few recent chats with former work associates it was claimed that I left as a Legend.  But I was not thriving as evidenced by my thigh size.

Job preservation can distort results. Analysts with can be compelled to hold mirrors and document reflections; thereby, defining requirements as: What the stakeholder of the hour says they want without triangulating with evidence from observation and data.

 

2011 was the 1st year in 15 that I was not a lynch-pin in the chaos of yearend in which 60% of annual business was processed in 2 months. However, I was actually as much a part of this yearend as any other because my replacement system and mentored peers were navigating the chaos - and it appears with solid results. With my 2011 bonus check now in the bank, I am confident that my most recent income producing work created with a good team was a success.

 

In 2012, I am missing the teamwork. There is not the same level of investment in the outcome, or shared vision, in the pro bono work I have been doing. Nor is there the caliber of talent. I really miss the puzzling out of solutions with a  talented team and I am curious about how I would do in a team in which I was not a senior player. As I look for income producing work, the pragmatist in me sees two things as fundamental to my ability to contribute: 2004 knowledge of media is already old and leveraging what I know is the best means is the 'best' way to make a difference.

 

Experience has shown me that 

• not all ideas are good and few are well informed
• my most instructive teacher was typically a bad result
• most things are iterative, and if they are not, they should be.
• that hitting my head against the wall just caused headaches, not progress

So I am concluding that:

 

Yes, my idea of work has changed in that the goal is no longer daily bread - I am much more invested in the quality and purpose of the outcomes.

 

Yes, my decision to redirect my life's work energy was appropriately timed based on the changes in my former employer’s organization and my goals?

 

And that my daily behaviors are telling me that getting to a place of comfort within uncertainty has been challenging but that I am as capable of success now as I have always been - I just need to clarify what that means now.

 

Fool4Speech

It was 12:01 AM and I welcomed the April 1 2012 trying to see just how foolish the Free Speech Square initiative might be.  I determined that any sign held or otherwise presented can not be read and even the speaker is pretty anonymous given the bright light.  Speech, however, is audible if facing the microphone in the upper right corner of the building.  So I challenged all those not listening to be fools for free speech in Wallingford, CT care of WPAA-TV Free Speech Square after 10 PM initiative.