Thursday, December 15, 2016

Where have all the people gone?

Why am I here? I am sure that Blogs are no longer the rage. Out of style and out of focus. Maybe there is still some room for content blogs but the personal blog has gone the way of Facebook. Keep up with the times Mike. Its kind of sad though. I'm more of the intimate dinner with a few close friends and not a huge party filled with so many people that you don't even know the majority of them.

So where did you all go?

I hope you are doing well. Things change. People move on and we are left with our memories and a whole host of blogs that have their last entries in 2008. How long will they stand? I spent some time going through some of the sites that I used to visit. So many people that I admired. So many words that had touched me deeply. Wow. You were some incredible people. I am not ashamed to say that I loved a bunch of you. I learned the hard way though that speaking those words out loud have different effects on different people. Some people just don't understand how you can love somebody that is almost a stranger. No regrets.

The thing about Blogs is that there was a lawlessness about them. It was the wild west of the internet. You weren't fenced in by the rules of engagement. It was acceptable to walk in uninvited to a blog and read about the thoughts of another person. You could speak your mind on your own blog and people either spent some time with you in conversation or they moved on. Maybe that made us naive and is what pushed us towards a more structured environment. People needed to fit in to a set of rules or they were never invited into your circle. It is safer. Security is important and I understand the change.

I do miss you and think of you from time to time. I thank you too.

I whisper these words across the winds of time like a message in a bottle. Sometimes they are found washed upon a distant shore. Sometimes they are forever lost. May these words find those that need it most.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Looking for laughter

I am learning about perspective and the need to be positive. Need supplies a lot of things. Part of being positive is looking for laughter in your day. This morning I walked out and was listening t a beautiful song of a bluejay singing birdie birdie birdie. As I stepped outside the song automatically dropped two pitches. I couldn't help but laugh and think that this must be a male bluejay posturing himself to sound a bit more manly...

Monday, April 23, 2012

For me

Understanding can sometimes come at the least expected times. Like recalling a name that you can't remember only to have it pop into your mind hours or days later. We are more than the perception of the moment. We are more than the memories of our past. We are more than the hope for a continued future. We are more. I have been struggling with the concept of love. I have held it and tried to witness its face from all angles. I have taken it in my hand and have turned it round and round trying to see which side is up and which side is front. I have pressed my fingers along the sharp cutting edges and I have swooned in the softness of its silky hair. Most of all I tried to understand the link it holds to our existence. I listened to others and wondered if love was indeed a bond. I listened to the whispers and wondered if love could be a gift. I struggled with echoes and dreaded that love could be a burden. I struggled trying to use love as a measure with definitions outlined by others. I found that although love can permeate all of us and all of our existence it is something special unto ourselves. It can be a connection, a bond or a gift. It can be a burden. It can be a song. It can be different for you and different for when. It slips through time and it settles as different colors and different flavors. There are times when I am reading a book and I must put it down. I return to it and read in small sips. My feelings have swelled to the point that I can only endure small parts at a time. There are times that I have to look away during a movie afraid for what is about to happen. How can my heart hold such feelings for a world that is only real inside my mind? There are people that go about their business every day around me. We cross paths and have some shared moments. Some I see again and some I only see from a distance. Many times I am swept away by the whirling winds that surround them. I cannot help but care. I cannot help but admire. I cannot help but love. It is what makes us more. More than a central point in the universe. More than the universe revolving around that point. We are part. Part of something we will never understand. Understanding can sometimes come at the least expected moments and show the most confusing results. Love explodes across the universe and is totally contained in the single beat of a single heart.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Music can fill me up

When day after day squeeze me so hard that I find I am empty I know that I can turn to music to fill me back up. I don't know why I wait so long. Music is magic and yet I hold off to use it until there is no more breath left in me.

I think part of it is that I totally immerse myself in it. I cut off the world that has poked and stabbed at me. I put on my headphones and point my computer towards my favorite musicians and I let my soul drift to their beat. I let them carry me where they wish. When possible I like music to be either live or with visuals. Since I am a people watcher I particularly like to watch the musician. My heart flies to them and my emotions pump into me.

Desire and admiration seep to the bottom of my soul. What wonderful talents some people have. You can see it in their eyes. You can hear it in their voice. Watch them and know that even from the infinite distance between two souls they can still reach you. This thought turns on your spring of hope. Hope's water pours and mixes with your desire and admiration. You know for a brief moment that the enormous gulf between people is not uncrossable.

A few more breaths

A few more songs but don't overdo it.

Everything that is lifted up can also be thrown back to the ground. Let the music help you take flight but come back to the real world before it takes you crashing down.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012


I imagine that it is not the thought that perpetuates the ripples but the thought that tunes our perception. Like buying a car only to discover that there are so many of them on the highway...

The other day I was thinking about heart and head and how they tend to each seek favor in our soul. It was a concept that had some weight. As I thought more of my circumstances I saw some ripples of this along my life. Where is the center of this ripple? Did the thought cause the ripple or was the thought because of the ripple?

I have two sons. One seems to be pure head and the other seems to be pure heart. One quiet and ordered the other loud and colorful. Not so simple of course but the ripple took me to that thought and took me to them too. The son who is head was struggling with heart. Both as in how brothers fight but also in the sense of life. If you measure life purely by logic you miss the beauty and you miss the meaning and at some point in your calculations to cannot find the answers.

I first visited his disturbance and because I too struggle I could understand his situation. I could give advice and I chose to. Bring some more heart into your life son. There are times that logic will not bring you the answers. We talked about all the forms of intelligence and thoughts and we came back to one that he held lowest but needed to trust more.

There is a clear ringing of the heart. It shouts and shows you many answers in your life. I tried to bring him there and as ripples would do I brought myself there as well. I hope he saw the beauty that we reached that day.

Later I found my other son awash in the sea of his heart. It held swells that could throw him to the stars. He was having troubles and needed a anchor. I make a poor one but ripples again brought me here. I could reach him because I have been there recently. We talked about things and I started making statements that made no sense and he called me on them. Lovenly I looked into eyes and smiled and said now you are using your head. With laughter he understood. Sometimes we need to let our brains lead us and not to be led by our hearts. There was solid ground there. A place that ripples brought us both. I hope he felt the ground as much as I did.

These dampening waves highlighted other parts of my life. What ripples through yours?

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Led by my heart

I am not sure if I am one of those people who wears his heart on his sleeve but I am certainly somebody who is led by his heart. Sometimes it is comforting. It has a sense of being genuine. When our heart believes, when our heart cares, when our heart suggests doesn't that mean we are being truthful? Doesn't that mean that we care about others? Isn't this a good characteristic?

When our head believes, when our head suggests, when we do something that is logical we can find out later that we used this logic to rationalize or decision. We lie to ourselves all the time to reduce any pain and to justify fulfilling our wants.

Logic dictates that our heart does the same thing although my heart adamantly denies it.

A lot of the things that my heart tells me my head argues with. It makes a lively day at times. Sometimes it can be stressful.

My head will get into a thought such as the one this blog originally had been intended to be about: the diverse world of the internet and my passion for stumpleupon and general wandering, about along my journey finding people that I admire but my difficulty in connecting with them... and my heart will twist it.

It makes it challenging to complete thoughts at time. They shift and shoot like a crackling fire and I get lost in the colors. Pretty but...

So when you see two brothers that have different personalities; one calm and quiet and the other full of noise and emotion. When you see that at times they just cannot exist without arguing intensely... Well that's how it is to be in my head. Sometimes you just want them both to shut up and let you get some work done.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


These are the words I said at my mom's funeral

In the hallway just outside my bedroom is a 5-foot tall man. Although this “puzzled man” is faceless, his expression says more than most. He wants the world to think that he is cool calm and collected. Yet he knows that he could easily go to pieces at any time. This artwork is a wonderful ceramic picture that represents a lot to me about who my mom was.
Her art and her life show us so many interpretations.
It makes us think.
It makes us look.
It makes us question the things that we see and the things that we believe.
For those who have never seen this piece, it is large as life. The man is made of ceramic puzzle pieces that are put together to make his form. They are all adhered to a board on a frame and the whole piece is hung on the wall.
It is bold and unique.
Just like my mom.
She took the path less traveled. Many times she forged her own path. Her art is just one small part of who she was. To me the biggest piece was that she was my mom.
I remember mom bringing us to the Prendergast library in Jamestown. We would spend an afternoon marveling and wandering around the stacks. When it became time to leave I would be carrying an armful of books. My passion for reading is a piece of me that my mom gave me.
I remember playing a game while my mom was driving. We would take turns choosing directions for the next intersection. Taking those random lefts and rights led us to unexpected adventures. We laughed and proceeded down many less traveled roads and found so many unexpected sights. This sense of wonder was another piece of me given to me by my mom.
I am a “puzzled man” made up of thousands of pieces. Each piece a gift from all those that I have come in contact with. This is my perspective on life and it is inspired by a 5-foot piece of art that looks over me.
When you look at it you may see other things.
There are layers and layers of understanding that my mom as the artist helps us peel. I think my mom meant her art and her life to be dynamic. The beauty in what she creates is the flower that blossoms in the viewer. Understanding and perspectives change. We grow. We choose our own way. None are the right way.

I am the puzzled man and I love you to pieces.