February 26, 2020 at 2:38 AM — I been planning to write this blog post for a long time, but it seems to have gotten stuck. So much so that I feel my current health problems of gut pain and back pain come from this same stuck place. Writing about the concept of a ‘bigot’ isn’t easy, as I found when writing a blog post looking into the origin of the word in my other blogging space. This post here is more of a personal look at the conversations with a bigot going on in my own imagination. I feel like I’ve gained an insight worth sharing with writers, but I’m unsure if I can get it across in the space of a blog post.
All through’ the day – I me mine, I me mine, I me mine.
All through’ the night – I me mine, I me mine, I me mine.
Now they’re frightened of leaving it, Ev’ryone’s weaving it,
Coming on strong all the time, All through the day, I me mine.
~George Harrison Continue Reading
I’m headed to Ireland, and taking an extended trip into England, Belgium, and Switzerland. Originally, I planned to make a new website or blog of my journeys, but that never felt right. I did that when I went to Australia eleven years ago, creating a personal blog of my inner and outer journeys. I’m not sure these times are right for that kind of introspection. This journey feels too personal, and I’m a bit tired of writing about myself. Continue Reading
My Mother died this year, so this is my first Mother’s day without her. Since she died I’ve been expecting moments when the ‘grief‘ caught up to me. Instead something rather unexpected has happened. Up in the mountains while hiking, I’ve had moments of wonderment, epiphany, a wholesome feeling of ‘Mother’, creator and artist…bringing me to tears. Continue Reading
There’s a Lunar eclipse this morning during the blue blood moon of January 31st. To me it feels connected to another eclipse which occurred on July 6, 1982. That’s the day my father died, and now my mother is facing the final days of her life.
If she passed tonight, those two days would become forever connected in my mind. Life is rarely so neat and precise. My father passed rather suddenly of a heart attack while my mom lingers on with a weak heart and other ailments. Only two months ago she felt fine, but now she’s a completely different person in home hospice care. Death’s doorstep—we’ve all been given some time to let go.
61 and 88, the final ages of my parents. They were part of the World War Two generation. I felt like I got to say a good goodbye when I went back east to visit. She kissed my hand when I said goodbye. She seems ready to go, and I am ready to let her go. I don’t want her to linger on.
The moon is turning red. And it’s been a long time coming.
My Mother passed away on the morning of February 2nd.
Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monuments. These are the latest sacrificial lands in the great public lands battle in America. I’ve been thinking of writing about this for some time, but it comes forward now because I recently flew over Grand Staircase in a plane. It’s a beautiful place, or so it looks from (near) space. And it seems there’s some idiots who can’t really see that. Continue Reading
“Writers are tortured souls.” Someone spoke those words to me about two-and-a half years ago, and they still ring true—at least for the American writer. I wonder why that’s so, and I realize it’s the reality we create. Continue Reading
This is from January 12, 2008. Lately, it feels like I have arrived here again. Continue Reading
I honestly confess that I shed a tear today upon hearing that Prince passed away at age 57. I’m not exactly sure why. I was never a big Prince fan, but his music did hold a place within me. I think my sorrow had to do with the intersection of three things: the sorry state of popular American music today, being so spoiled with music in my life that someone as dedicated and talented as Prince wasn’t all that important to me, and most importantly thinking about the creativity and love of music that many of my personal friends have shared with me. Continue Reading
Full Title: Know Me — By Way of Explanation: A Narrative of My Life in Tucson as it Relates to a Hiking Group, Musings from a Writer in the Desert
One of the ideas behind being a creative writer or artist is never to explain yourself to people who don’t get you. Like many things these days, I find myself looking at that idea anew. It feels like few people understand the creative mind anymore, and there’s so many false assumptions that seem to be taking root again. Everyone is putting everyone else into a cage, and I think it’s high time to break out of pigeon-holing with some open communication. Continue Reading