I'm starting to appreciate that I'm on a bridge. I want to just jump but it's too far. I want everything to suddenly be different but all I can do is change the angle, the optics, the perspective, and appreciate that I am moving.
I want balance, not to divide the world into good/evil, dark/light, and conveniently place myself in the middle (self-justifying) but rather to find a workable middle and stretch my tendrils into both dark and light, knowing that Good is a matter of compassion and humility while evils are obsessed with consuming and dominating.
It's change in my state-of-mind. My bestfriend from college saw me post on social media that "life is good". He wondered what happened. Nothing 'happened' but I did do something this afternoon -- not even something I've never done.
CPJ-1, where I ramble about names I've assumed and then reveal that I think I've been a poet all along. TBC
Months ago I polished my silver-plated trumpet for the first time since I bought it. I didn't do "seven minutes in heaven" with a new horn at a music store in spring of 2004. Mr. Danny Barber and I arranged a parking lot rendezvous outside of "Lunkers" restaurant in Edwardsburg, MI. He played this 1974… Continue reading The Process of Polishing
If I don't jam, I can't become CactusPearJams. The only way to cultivate a voice is to make it speak and sing. I want a new voice. I can't find it. I can't buy it. I must cultivate it.
I called truck #212221 'Desirae'. Google tells me this is a French name for "the one desired". I found a poster of Ray Lewis propped against a pump-canister in the back of the flat-faced Isuzu my manager assigned to me: perhaps a desire but even more a discovery. "I'll call you 'Rae-Rae'-- short for Desirae."… Continue reading Halloween Day: My Truck, My Tablet, and a Pink House