WOW, surge and buzz

It rained very intensely a few times today. The air feels so much better now that my brief walk with Jake was truly enjoyable. I connected with a few neighbors. Rare to find others out during these walks. It made for a nice break in the day.

I did not connect with the Internet, TV or radio directly today. I did share with others, an excerpt from a note to me, I titled proud tears. The extended audience shared vicariously as I had a WOW response. WOW has such different meaning in the parlance of our teens. Many loose hours of their life in WOW space. But the gut reaction WOW is what I received and shared. Getting inspired sharing gives me an energy surge. Surge, now there is a term becoming well worn: military, economic and radio. Now this place WHERE NEW ARTISTS SURGE TO STARDOM was somewhat new to me, and it is currently NOT surging. But I enjoyed these pics and may send thus one along to add to the collection. I look forward to seeing the caption if they continue to be monitored. Captions suggestions are welcome in coments..

open door policy

We have had a dog door for years. The cats discovered it and have liberated themselves and appear to be living 99 lives. One rescued cat, Artimus, timid and in the basement for 6 months is now a confident hunter happy for a brief respite among his humans. My bird feeder has become a death trap. Jake, whom I have introduced already. rarely used the dog door after midnight. But he has recently joined the cats on raccoon patrol which starts about 2 am. We original discovered peppermint wrappers on the floor, then heard a scurry of all the animals running through the house knocking the dry cat food feeder off its bench. There was a replay the next evening. Papa heard the noise and attested to seeing at least 6 racoons

phrases of the day

When I allow other voices into my day, certain phrases bring me to a literal stop, to scribble down for later reflection. I feel some intuitive connection that could benefit me if mined. But mining is always tbd.

Technology places, a reference to the the instruments carried on the belts of the presidential candidates, connected to me to both my community access advocacy work and poetry team experiences. The word place evokes memories...there was the catch me in seminal times places of adolescence poetry tour and the public-people-place aspect of the community building project. Excerpt below:

‘Community Building’ is a process not a place. It requires the gathering of people in or through a public space. Participants share, listen and reflect. When used in the conduct of public business; community building is inclusive, collaborative, and representative of diverse voices. Based on a shared vision or problem it can be used to identify solutions, reach consensus, devise and implement strategies for resolution or change. It most often involves individual and collective actions of diverse peoples for a common good.

And then there is my virtual place of my work-at-home existence and the itch to just leave its physical confines after days of too little physical movement: when I exclaim I need to get out of this place.

Halo for Fear-a description by Barbara Walters of her work-life motivation struck a chord. As the primary bread winner/caretaker I could relate. I will look forward to her book Audition making it to Library shelves. I wondered is it truly different for women. I think so but it seems unfair to not see that the some self-employed men have similar stress.

Do stories ever end and other deep thoughts

Before a personal story ends, Memoir writers decide that there is enough of a story to be told, to be penned, to commit to. Reflection and significance are ingredients. Compelling is important. And how to begin requires selection of an end for the unending. I am a derailed storyteller because I can never decide upon an ending.

When this entry was conceived, there was 100 days remaining; to elect a new president and to make ready my primary daily bread assignment for go live. These turning points are not ends. They may be middles or starts. What comes later – the benchmarking measures like the 1st 100 days of the presidency and questions about the completed project speak to the lack of true ends.

New tools allow us to manage or compile data and images and the elements of story. Sometimes pseudo stories emerge much like pseudo poems from folks exploring sentences and fragments instead of paragraphs and chapters. New tools can inevitably make endings ever more, less likely. Time capsules of experience accumulate. Folks like me get to avoid deciding on a larger scale than outside of the moment’s distraction – about endings. Volumes of reflection, commentary and noise emerge – and stories that could change, heal or inform salt and pepper the abundance.

Blogging, this hybrid commentary journal process was activated by me to reflect upon significance. Scribble. Distraction. Curiosity. Ponders. All in a format that allows me to avoid questions wrestled by true storytellers. Maybe coming of age with the TV drama view of story, most of which now tell multiple stories simultaneously and attempt to develop characters serially, neatly prescribed time, foreshadowing and tension until there is a fade to credits has contributed to my dilemma.

I began to read the World is my Home. I did not get to the end yet. It has been months since I set it down. I started it in the middle, as I recall. The 1992 biography of James A. Michener was published 5 years before his death, an end marked by his decision to remove life supports. A collection of selective reminiscences, his story for me did not end when I closed the cover of the book nor would it have if I were on the last page. It continues here. His story lives on because they were scribed. Each new reader restarts the story. And every new writer underwritten at UofTexas at Austin by Michener funds ensures his story never ends. This novelist did story his way. He followed his intellectual curiosity, informed his style from the experience of opera arias and ultimately his narration rewards the reader or listener with knowledge. His large novels are said to be absent psychological insight. I have purchased but have yet to read his sagas. A novelist that could have been a blogger is an indulgence that I can not yet invite in to my frame of reference. So I digest short stories. This week it is People I wanted to be.

Go Live is less than 100 business days away and the day job is carnivorous. Is eating my soul, flesh eating? Deep thoughts are set aside as core hours begin now.