tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14798318607027653772012-01-26T21:09:10.808-05:00Eyes are windows to the soul. My eyes are blue and through them you can catch a glimpse of who I am.Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.comBlogger141100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-3698032648663307972012-01-10T16:31:00.002-05:002012-01-10T16:50:48.920-05:00

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

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-58172695282250628402012-01-05T11:58:00.002-05:002012-01-05T12:49:44.125-05:00

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

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-26115304553046192962010-10-19T16:44:00.002-04:002010-10-23T22:56:16.350-04:00

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

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-51037913637725873552010-03-25T21:10:00.004-04:002010-03-26T09:20:05.889-04:00

There are days when my hand passes through everyone that I touch. It makes me wonder if I am a ghost. Passing through this world unable to reach those that tug at my heart. Can I pass through walls I wonder as I smack my face hard against the brick. I feel the pain and think it might not be me. Maybe the world spins around me like a vapor. I squint and see exactly what I long to see and when I

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-57518422867490888452010-01-26T14:07:00.002-05:002010-01-26T15:34:04.336-05:00

We walked together you and I.I remember the path. It twisted through our lives. Our feet plodded on the soft earth. We listened to the sounds that filled the air and laughed as the sun danced across our face as it poked through the trees that hung above us.There were others too.Many times I walked and watched you as you traveled along that path so joyful in the company of those others. Some times

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-71809737992054822492009-07-04T10:03:00.002-04:002009-07-04T10:21:02.618-04:00

There are moments that embrace me and I can totally taste the sweetness. There are times that I am swept away and I can catch the updraft of that moment and soar in wonder.I can gaze and feel the splendor of a gentle wave of a single leaf that points delicately to the horizon. The rush of emotions course through me and I feel my soul expand from a singularity. It bursts through my thick skin and

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-50090938066113894492009-05-12T13:58:00.002-04:002009-05-12T15:39:18.417-04:00

Kids teach us more than we will ever teach them. They teach us all that stuff that we have forgotten. They teach us innocence and they enlighten us to the joys all around us. The other night, my wife, my youngest and I were playing cribbage. Part way through the game after my wife had scored points using my card for the third play in a row, I joking said, "you suck". My son being at that age

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-78832959075994979742009-04-28T09:59:00.001-04:002009-04-28T10:00:11.792-04:00

I thought I was here but I must be someplace else.Possibly I really don't have anything to say...

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-71878218133583849322009-02-28T11:04:00.003-05:002009-02-28T11:15:39.263-05:00

Packing up a blog during a phase of your life when you are questioning its very meaning may leave you powerless to forces. Somewhat like grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You have to be careful with what you buy from the store...Whether out of hunger or some other magical design I came across this post that made me pause. Wednesday, April 19, 2006They were only words. Every time. Anytime. The

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-40824401810019163912009-02-13T09:53:00.003-05:002009-02-13T10:11:11.964-05:00

I've been packing up and cleaning out "Blogin' Idiot - Ripple me this" and find it resembles a junk drawer of sorts. Things are a bit more of a mess than I imagined. Pictures missing... Bad grammar... Lot's of whining... Plenty of strange things. There are a lot of years and a lot of thoughts packed into that tiny space. Common Sense says to simply open up the garbage and dump the whole mess.

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-9507131956556638922009-02-02T15:05:00.004-05:002009-02-02T17:49:05.691-05:00

In case anyone is wondering...Things have a way of keeping you occupied especially when your mind needs time to ponder. My mind seems to be most creative when I don't focus too hard.So work and family and home and body have decided that they all need my undivided attention. They have ganged up on me to stop me from having a long drawn out discussion with my spirit. It seems I feel it is necessary

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-65583908999638883872008-10-24T12:41:00.006-04:002008-10-24T21:52:29.840-04:00

There is a way that life's lessons slowly sink into me. Maybe that is the only way they can get past my stubborn outer shell.I find hints and gentle reminders that start waving at me from all sorts of places. I feel their tug and then they are gone. Their echo remains softly in my mind reminding me of their purpose. Behind these blue eyes I have wondered about a lot of things. Among my wonders

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-37965899863986477612008-10-21T09:14:00.000-04:002008-10-21T10:47:02.980-04:00

I carry a camera with me... always. It's not a great camera but it is one that stays true and near. I have taken over 12,000 pictures with it and during that time I have learned that it needs a bit of extra help to produce a good image. It is at its best when there is sufficient light, a steady hand and a subject that is close at hand. I wonder how it feels as I hold it in my hands and point it

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1479831860702765377.post-765979764612984582008-10-17T17:01:00.000-04:002008-10-17T15:09:51.259-04:00

Look me in the eyes and tell me no lies.Lenses of truth and beacons of life.Beholders of beauty and our connection to the world.Eyes...Known as the windows of the soul.What lurks behind these blue eyes?What sights do they see?I am a watcher... I am a dreamer...I am the man behind these blues eyes.I am blue eyed Mike.Scattered around my mind and strewn lazily around this blog are some thoughts and

Michaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17502248241093670156noreply@blogger.com2