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Showing posts from December, 2012

A writer without a pen?

Well this is ridiculous. For the second time in a month, I left home without my pen and without my notebook. These are the signs of a busy monkey mind on the road, on the go, juggling. I begin to let slip even the important things. I feel like a circus act. But it's the closest I'll ever get to being in the circus. The imaginary crowd roars and cheers me on as I bow in the center ring

Multiple Choice

Images: mine Words: anybody's

Meaning and focus

Everywhere I look I see people with a purpose being busy, doing something bigger than themselves, making a difference. What am I by comparison? Directionless as melted butter sliding off the top of a pancake. But not the pancake. Not the real deal. A sponge? Just barely. A camera lens that just needs a little cleaning to make things clear? A centipede with all one hundred feet stuck in too many different places? A caterpillar with an uncertain future? And no, I do not want to be a butterfly, lovely as butterflies may be, flitting from one thing to another. No. Give me instead the focus of a cobra, ready to strike where it matters most.