The Relay Post

The last two Sundays I’ve written these poem like things and posted them for my weekly writing.  I’ll admit I am not a very good poet but sometimes a bit of verse just springs out – unasked for and unplanned.  I don’t craft a poem.  I don’t spend hours thinking about the allusions, metaphor or meter.  It just happens.

Sometimes they’re good and sometimes I delete them before showing anyone.

I wish I could give you a better insight into my creative process but it’s something I barely understand myself.  There are parts I can explain and parts that happen without my knowing how it works.  It’s part gift, part skill, and part discipline.

The gift was given to me by God.  I’ve always assumed it was meant for me to use.  There is just something in my thinking that bends differently than most. I can’t explain it.

The skill I build by doing and learning.  I’ve studied language, woodworking, electronics, math, etc.  These studies include schooling, reading, watching others and the occasional YouTube video.  Then I take the time to do – I write, I build things in the shop and so on.

Then there is the discipline – do regularly.  I’ve managed some discipline, writing in this blog every week – whether I want to or not.  Something I’ve not managed with my woodworking.

There is a further piece to the creative puzzle: nurture the gift.  I think Julia Cameron put it best in her book, “The Artist’s Way,” when she talks about, “breathing in.”  This is a practice where you go out and do something that feeds your creative soul – go to an art gallery, to the beach, take a hike or whatever it is that helps replenish and rest your creative self.  Heather and I find hiking to be this kind of breathing in.

We haven’t been hiking much – life’s gotten too busy at the moment and it affects everything.

But yesterday I did something that didn’t exactly feed the soul but it got me thinking about new stuff.

Heather joined a Relay for Life team.  This is a fund-raiser for the American Cancer Society and the idea is that each team has at least one person walking around a track for 24 hours.  They take it in 1 hour shifts and Heather had signed up for 2 different times.

Being somewhat involved with cancer myself, I figured what the heck, I’ll walk with her.

For the record and just in case you aren’t one of the three hundred people I’ve told already – my feet hurt.

There were two parts of the festivities that I found very moving – the opening ceremony with the ‘survivor’s lap’ and the evening luminary lighting.

The opening was a typical event opening, a flag, the mayor, a few speeches, and then the first lap to start the walking.  During this lap, any cancer survivor and their caregiver is invited to take to the track and walk once around – kind of a victory lap.  It was amazing to see the number of people who have been touched by cancer and are still alive.  It is clear evidence that we are making progress in curing the illness.

I did, reluctantly I’ll admit, take to the track and take my lap with Heather – my special caregiver. It’s been only 18 months since my treatment ended and despite the fact that I am still alive I don’t feel much like a survivor.  I can’t say exactly why.  Part is fear that the prostate cancer could reoccur.  Part is that my treatment was so easy to do compared to what others have suffered.  Part is that it is now becoming a distant memory and I’ve almost returned to my old self (expect for one or two new doctors I get to talk to regularly).

The luminary lighting was very special.  Before the event all the teams made luminaries commemorating a loved one who died from cancer or to honor and support someone currently suffering with cancer.  I had made one for my mother, Heather for three members of her family.  These luminaries were placed around the track with candles in them to light the track for the night-time walkers and as a memorial to those we’ve lost and to support those with the disease.

In the bleachers around the track they placed luminaries to spell three words: life, hope, cure.  The last part of the luminary ceremony is the lighting of these candles.  A group of caregivers was invited to come up and start lighting.  The way the stage was arranged had these people enter the bleachers just to the left of the word, ‘life’ so most started lighting that.  Some caregivers, realizing that there were a lot of people working on ‘life’ moved over to the next word, ‘hope’ and starting light it.  A lone person wandered over to ‘cure’ and started light it candle by candle.

As the darkness fell, ‘Life’ lit up first followed by ‘hope’

My eye followed the lone man lighting the ‘cure.’  My heart ached for him – working alone on the most important word to me.  While life and hope burned bright, the cure barely flickered.

Then, slowly, as life was lit and hope was nearly complete, others started working on the cure.  As they moved to the work the cure suddenly burned bright.

There’s a poem in there someplace, but it’s not found form in my mind.

Till next week,
Andrew

Posted in Prostate Cancer, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 8 Comments

Summer Night

In the cool of a summer night

Sleep finally comes
Oblivion for a few short hours
Too soon the the mind wakes; struggles with life.

Prose wishes to break free
Sentences struggle for completeness.

References and words float on the air
Mind’s eye holds a crystal
Considering its complexity
Its simplicity
Its perfection

Turn the thought over
Consider infinity
Consider eternity
Consider mystery
To hold the world in your hand
and …

The scene that follows won’t come –
Struggling for completeness
Struggling for meaning
Struggling for profoundness
Struggling for the heights

The cooling air flows and cools the soul
The mind rests
Yet it struggles with the thought –
The image that wishes to be found

Gaze at the crystal again
See into infinity
See into the power and wisdom

On the wind the voice is heard
but in the mind a glass wall prevents hearing
Mumbled words, a phase starts

“Gaze into the crystal and see … “

Frustration as the words will not flow.

Completeness fades
The cool air brings relief
The river lulls the mind to sleep.

Sweet rest
Thoughts start and fade to sleep
Sleep comes to revive the weary soul

Sleep gently lays to rest
Sleep lets the thought lay incomplete
Sleep nurtures the imagination

Play the scene again
and again
and again

Gaze into the crystal and what do you see?

Oblivion
Infinity of light
Restful dark
Silence
Sleep

Posted in General, Poems | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

Tap

Hot.

Too hot.

Energy sapping hot.

I have great thoughts but they can’t get past the headache.
A cool drink helps, but not for long. 
The fan blows warm air around my head. 
Thoughts do not cool.

Tap.

A diamond cutter studies the raw crystal.
Marks a line.

A tap cleaves it in two. 
An irrevocable step. 
Choose wrong and the value is lost. 
Irretrievable.
No do over.

Fear.

Fear stays the hammer blow. 
Reach for the jeweler’s loupe to study the problem afresh.

Time passes. 
Dust settles.  T
he stone remains uncut, it’s value unrealized. 
It’s beauty hidden by indecision.

The tap. 
Steel edge driven by a sharp tap with a hammer. 
Only one chance. 
Only one choice. 
Choose right and the beauty gleams. 
Choose wrong and your heart breaks.

Or don’t choose and let hope stay on a shelf. 
Don’t choose and let the beauty remain hidden. 
Don’t choose and let life pass you by.

Hot.  Heat blinding the mind.

In the shop a picture sits covered in dust. 
Just four cuts left. 
Which four to make?

In the past a choice was made. 
Was it the right path? 
Did I tap along the right line? 
Is that demon banished?

On the horizon ships approach. 
More choice. 
Which leads to fulfillment? 
Which leads to beauty. 
What line do I draw?

Will there be more ships? 
More lines to draw?

Heat.

The ripples rise on a distant highway obscuring the vision. 
The distant mountains shimmer as my strength fails.

Come, cooling river. 
Ocean breezes flow. 
Darkness fall, and sleep restore my weary soul.

Tomorrow and tomorrow come.

Give my soul the strength to,

Tap

Posted in General, Poems, Writing | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Writing Process

I’ve been paying a lot of attention lately to my writing process.  I was thinking that I could improve my writing by carefully looking at myself, my writing style, my thought process – all that stuff that goes into writing these posts.  I’ve made three important discoveries:

  1. I often write about having nothing to write about.
  2. I spend several hours during the week thinking about what I am going to write about.
  3. I rarely write about what I’ve researched and thought about.

This week is a weird week to be writing.  Normally on a Sunday afternoon, the house is quiet, I’ve got a cup of tea and plenty of time to hammer something together that looks like a blog post.

This week, almost none of that is true.  We have family staying, so the place is anything but quiet, my tea came and went an hour ago and I’m feeling a bit of pressure to finish this post and get back to the family.  I did think of just posting pictures and taking a vacation week from the blog, but decided that I must balance my family with desire to write each week, so I am pressing bravely on.

Earlier in the week I was reading the book on intertextuality and just started a new chapter – interesting stuff about signifiers and the signified and about the difference between a text and a work. I thought about it; have done some extra research on the concepts; and have something in my mind that I think you’d be interested in (discovery number 2).  So under discovery number three, I won’t be writing about it.

Since the real point of thinking about my writing style was to find something that I can improve on, I won’t be writing about not having anything to write about – even though I could write about that for a very long time.

On my way back to write, I announced I was off to write and foolishly said, “I have no idea what to write about and am taking requests.”  I got two good ideas, “House guests” and “something controversial – how about that NSA leaker.”

Hmm,  should have kept my mouth shut.  I could do a very long funny post on house guests, but to write one while the guests are still in the house seems a bit – well rude and I think at least one of my guests reads this blog. Talk about awkward.

If I wrote an entire blog post about how I like having house guests, that they are polite, considerate and a joy to have – well naturally you’d all believe that.  Yup, that would be believable.

I could tell you about the problems we’re having with the toilets – something about how one of our two is broken and we have guests.  There isn’t a great story here other than we noticed a problem a few weeks ago, called our plumber, he replaced the toilet and went on a two-week vacation so naturally it broke again two days after he left and the first guest arrived a week later.

Now some of you are thinking, “Andrew, you’ve got a shop full of tools and build all kinds of stuff (that irrigation system was impressive), surely you can fix that.”  I hate to admit this in public but in general I am a menace to indoor plumbing. Normally my attempts to fix plumbing are followed by a call to my plumber who no doubt sees $$$$ when I call.

Once I nearly set the house on fire while trying to fix a plumbing problem, but I’d rather not talk about that (but on the positive side, I did put the fire out before Heather noticed and she agreed to not call the fire department if I promised to stop fixing the pipes).  Oh, anyone know if you can just throw an empty fire extinguisher in the trash or do I have to take it to the hazardous materials place?

Now on to the controversial.  This is difficult for me because I am not really a controversial kind of guy.  The most controversial thing I’ve ever done was to wear white socks with dark suite, or the time I had red wine with fish.

But I’ll try – one controversial thought from me:  Anyone who thinks that the NSA hasn’t been listening to your phone calls or monitoring your email, Facebook posts, tweets and instagrams, has been asleep for the last 15 years.

Sure, this case brings to light yet again the fact that the NSA, FBI, DEA, ATF, and your local PD all regularly and sometimes with little, or no proper court order listen, to phone calls and read emails, tweets, facebook posts and regularly download the pictures you post on instagram.  From time to time this activity finds real criminals and takes terrorists off the street before they do evil terrorist things. From time to time this information is used for less than pure motives to entrap the innocent and deprive them of their freedom.

Most of the time, all this vast information noise is just sent to a giant data warehouse where it collects digital dust because the aforementioned agencies have had yet another budget cut and the people assigned to look at the data are on furlough or trying to apply for early retirement.

While it is bad that government misuses this data, I am more concerned about our corporate masters getting this information and using it to extract the remaining dollars from my wallet.

I’d like to write more on this topic but this black Cadillac just pulled up and there is a guy in a black suit knocking at the front door.  Maybe it’s the plumber.

Till next week,
Andrew

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