Max

Biologically, a parent

is always a parent

and your child

is always your child

But there comes a time

when the child

becomes an adult

and the relationship changes

I am so glad that

over the years

we have always been friends

and that hasn't changed

What has changed

is that now 

you are an adult too

and you're still my best friend

I have talked to you

since before you were born

We've laughed at little kid things

and now grown up stuff too

We've had some rough times

but we've come through them just fine

You are a great kid

and I'm glad you're my friend.

Impasse

There is a moment in time
between nothing and something
when something's gotta give.
It may only be a heartbeat,
or the time it takes
to walk away
from your heart's desire.
But there comes a point
when the time for talking
has finally passed
and the only thing left
to do is...something.
But what that something is
can only be decided
in that brief moment
of impasse...



This poem was inspired by the synopsis of a movie by the same name. The screenplay was written by Jeanne Veillete Bowerman @Jeannevb (you can read about it on her website and it will be directed by Michael Bekemeyer @Bekemeyer.


This movie is a KickStarter project. Please check it out (AND CONTRIBUTE)!! 


When I read the synopsis I was moved to tears. I know that moment of impasse all too well. I knew in that moment that I had to do whatever I could to help Mike and Jeanne get this movie made. I don't have much spare cash these days, but they don't need a lot from any one person...they just need a big 'ole bunch of us to skip a latte or two and help get the word out. So, that's what I'm doing.
Check it out. If it moves you even a little bit, please consider donating. Even $1 counts. If you have a website or blog or facebook, G+ or twitter account follow these two wonderful, creative individuals and help spread the word.

Thank you.

We

Each person is unique
And we see the world
From our own perspective
But what we often forget
Is that in so many ways
We are really the same

We all have fears
And doubts
And baggage we carry around
With us every step of every day

We all struggle with inner demons
We hear the voices
Of our inner child
Wanting to be included
To be loved
And of our worst critic
Telling us our faults
Telling us we are not worthy of love

We all want success
In whatever roles we have chosen
Artist, parent, child
Spouse, lover, businessperson
Humanitarian, and the list goes on

How do we know
When we have accomplished our goals?
What do we attain to quell these fears?
How do we even begin
To go about these things?

The answers are friends
And the sharing of these things
Realizing that no matter what our circumstances
We have common desires
And fears

And when we bring our experiences
Along with our fears and hopes and dreams
And put them out in the open
Amongst friends

Then our individuality
Can shine in our shared experience
And we will each succeed
When supported by the others

Thank You

When I thought I was at the bottom

you held me through the pain

gave me words

and music

set my soul free

And when I kept sinking

lower than I could imagine

you were the knot

at the end of my rope

that I held on to for dear life

A nervous cat had nothing on me

I trembled at the slightest sound

your voice calmed the storm

chased the demons

told me I would make it through

I believed in you

even when I didn't believe in me

you were always right

so smart, so strong

the answer to my questions

Now I'm so much stronger

no longer afraid

of what the future holds

and still I have the music

now I sing the words

I've let go of the pain

free to dance happily

you are always there for me

friends no matter what 

the future holds

One Person

I remember the day
You came into my life
We had ordinary conversations
And yet they were more than that

Little did I know
That day I first met you
How you would change my life
In so many ways

I can hear you now
Telling me how you've hurt me
But you couldn't be
More wrong

You were that one person
Who believed in me
When I didn't believe
In myself

You gave me strength
When I was weak
Love when I felt unlovable
And most of all hope

It only takes one person
To make a difference
And for me
You will always be that person

Thank you, my friend
For loving me unconditionally
And telling me I deserve to be loved
Even though I am so flawed

Thank you, my love
For putting up with my insecurities
As I learned to be secure
As you taught me so much

You are just one person
Flawed and yet perfect
Wise and gentle and wonderful
One person I'll always love

New Year's Day

I'm having a really hard time finding words for this...

I've written about my feelings for Gettysburg. 

I need to write more about choices. About being deliberate. About understanding myself. About making choices that support my artistic endeavors. About getting off my ass, fighting inertia, and doing things that are good for me.

What does all of this have to do with anything? 

Max drove me to work on Friday. Because he was driving, I was free to notice the little bit of fog. The fog reminded me of Gettysburg and I realized it had been a while since I had been there. I mentioned that maybe this weekend would be a good time to drive down since the younger boys would be with their dad. This thought/comment was then filed in the back of my brain.

I met a friend, Adam, for lunch on Saturday. We were talking about photography and art and creativity. As I started to mention Gettysburg that comment I had made to Max popped to the surface...

I started to dismiss it and Adam asked if I wanted to go to Gettysburg. I started to dismiss the idea again when I realized tomorrow would be New Year's Day.  Then it hit me. The new year. Sunrise. The beginning of a beginning. And somehow in that moment it became important for me in a symbolic way. I needed to chose to start this year off creatively. I needed to start this year in the kind of zen that comes from that place. From looking at things I've seen a dozen times yet always look new. From trying to share the dichotomy of deep sadness and joy I experience there.

So I went to sleep early on New Year's Eve. I missed the saying goodbye to the old. Not really. I had already said my goodbyes to one of the worst years I've ever lived through. I hardly slept. I was energized with anticipation. Looking forward to something is a wonderful way to feel. 

Adam showed me a beautiful covered bridge he had photographed with friends before, I showed him Little Round Top, and we both saw the National Cemetery for the first time. It was a wonderful way to start 2012.

I'll put the sunrise here; the images of the bridge and battlefield will follow in separate posts.

My Holiday Wish

My holiday wish
peace, joy, love, laughter, health, and
happiness to you

Christmas 2011. Thank you.

Two years ago I posted a holiday rant. I re-read it yesterday and winced at the levels of anger, frustration, disillusionment, and pure bitchiness I displayed there. And yet, I'm glad it's there. It gives me a frame of reference. It reminds me that I write these things for me. It also showed me how much I've changed over the past couple of years.

The commercialism of this time of year still drives me insane. Instead of becoming quite so angry about it, now I just do my best to avoid it. Before I was jealous that I didn't have the means to participate in the gluttony. Now I have even less and I finally realized that it's not something I wish to participate in anyway. Sometimes less really is more.

Last year I became person-non gratta on my ex's side of the family. It hurt like hell to be kicked to the curb by people I love and respect. It angered me that they only saw his side. And, it took me a while to understand that of course that's what they are going to do. I finally saw how silly it was for me to think anything else would or should happen. I still miss some of them terribly, but I'm finally at peace with this part of how the divorce has impacted my life.

I've never liked family gatherings. This year, I'm getting a huge dose of irony. This year I won't have to suffer through the family gathering because the only family still living in the same part of the country as me is my youngest sister and we hardly speak. I'm closer to my mom than I've ever been in my adult life and now they are embarking on a new adventure by moving down to Florida. I guess this is a lesson in karma for me. Duly noted. As much as I miss my parents, I am happy that our relationships have improved. This is so much better than having them close by and not speaking. So, while I miss them, I am also happy for them and hope they find happiness and adventures where they are now.

We had an artificial tree for years and last year, like every thing else around here, it finally broke beyond the possibility for repair. The ex got a real tree for the first time in years and we had a very tense holiday still under the same roof. This year I can't afford a new fake tree and didn't even consider a live one. I don't have the money anyway, didn't want to kill a tree, and if I did it would just be a fire hazard as I wouldn't remember to water it. So, for the first time in ages, no tree. I'm okay with that. I'm glad to not get the ornaments out and go through all of the memories that each one holds. I worry about how the boys are with this change, but they seem to be taking it in stride.

I am looking forward to celebrating with my boys this year; starting some new traditions based not on judeo-christian beliefs that I don't necessarily share, but on a sense of family, love, togetherness, and creativity. Christmas dinner will not be a re-telling of Thanksgiving. This year we're going to make one of our favorite foods, pizza, together. Max is still lobbying for either Chinese food or a pizza delivery. But he's been out voted and we will be having a pizza building festival of food that night.

The hardest thing about the holidays for me is that Jake is still young enough to believe in Santa. It would be a lot easier if he didn't. He already knows that money is tight. But he hasn't made the leap from Mom has no money to Santa has no money. Because, thankfully, for him Christmas is still about magic.

A few weeks ago I was really upset about the holidays. I can barely afford to get the kids a few items of clothing and didn't know how to explain to Jake that Santa wasn't going to be bringing much to our house this year. A friend told me to not worry about it; that every kid deserved at least one fun thing from Santa, and she wanted to play Santa to my boys this year. I had a hard time accepting that someone would want to do something like this for me and my family. Meanwhile, presents have arrived this week and I'm finally starting to feel the same kind of excitement that Jake feels at the upcoming visit from Santa.

I've already received so many gifts this year. I have three sons that I am so proud of and love with all my heart. I am in a good place with my parents. I have a job that I love working with great co-workers where I get to spend my day helping people. I am constantly inspired by and in awe of the world around me in all its beauty and mystery. And, I have been blessed to have so many amazing people come into my life these past two years as friends and teachers.

So, my friend is playing Santa in the form of some fun things for the boys; but she's given me the best gifts I've ever received; her love and friendship, and the desire to one day repay her kindness and generosity by paying it forward to someone else.

Thank you.

The Best Things in Life

Having friends you trust

who support and stand by you

the best things in life.

Originally published November 12, 2010

Reviews: Dead Mech by Jake Bible

There are a few things to keep in mind when reading this review.  First of all, I usually hate zombie stories.  I just don't get them.  The whole coming back to life to eat the living thing is patently stupid (imho). Not to mention scientifically preposterous. Secondly, I'm not a big fan of post-apocalyptic stories.  They are just too damn depressing and dreary for my tastes. And, Finally, I have a low tolerance for blood, guts, gore, and violence--the ick factor.  Well, I used to anyway...

I listened to the podcast version of Dead Mech and bought the ebook version because Jake is a friend.  I'll try anything at least once and twice if a friend is involved.  Reading and listening were both wonderful experiences but for different reasons.  I highly recommend both.  

This novel is unique in that it is the first drabble novel.  A drabble is a piece of flash fiction that is exactly 100 words.  Not 99.  Not 101.  I tried my hand at this form of writing last year and wrote about the process here. It was a very good experience for me, but not something I plan on repeating anytime soon.  Jake wrote this story one drabble at a time.  Each one is a complete thought, often a scene, sometimes a part of a scene.  But, each is a perfect drabble.  This alone astonishes me and made the read very enjoyable.  Because of the nature of a drabble the writing is tight and precise.

Jake is a natural storyteller and hearing the book read by him was a joy. Dead Mech was his first podcasting experience and he learned and improved as he went; but it is good from the very first episode and only gets better.

For me, the thing that is the biggest determining factor in whether or not I like a story isn't the plot, or the genre, or the setting...it's the characters.  If the writer can bring the characters to life and make me care about them, I'll follow them damn near anywhere.  Jake does that beautifully here.  The story lines are all good and tightly interwoven. But, the characters are real and memorable. I was surprised to realize when listening to his Q & A episode afterwards that he never gave full descriptions to any of the characters.  Yet, even now, I still see them all clearly in my mind.  And somehow I know the Rookie has blue eyes.  Trust me on that.

Remember the objections I listed at the beginning of this: zombies, post-apocalyptic, and the ick factor? Well, this is about giant mechanized war machines in a post-apocalyptic world where not only are there zombies, but the mechs themselves become zombies...throw in some cannibalism and cage fighting and well, there you have it.  Even with all of that, I absolutely LOVED this book.  That's how wonderful the characters are and how fine a job Jake did with the writing.

There were moment when I laughed till I cried; others where I just cried.  I finally get zombie stories--it's NOT about the zombies.  The zombies are just the obstacle for the heroes to conquer.

This book is available in free podcast format at Podiobooks.com and in paperback and ebook versions at all the typical retailers.  Jake is currently podcasting a second novel that happens at the same time as Dead Mech, a sidequel as it were...  That Jakey, he's always gotta be different...

Jake's website
Amazon
B & N
Podiobooks



***Disclaimer***
I am not a professional critic (though I am rather critical of some things some days, but I digress).  I occasionally will post a review of something I have enjoyed that I think is worth your time and/or money. I don't as a general rule put up negative reviews.  Not because I love everything I see, hear, or read; but rather because I know how hard people work on these things and I have no intention of being overly critical.  I would rather just not say anything than trash someone else's hard work. I usually know the people involved and want to do whatever I can to get their wonderful work out to more people.  However, I don't write these because my friends created the work. I write them because I truly enjoyed the work itself.  I receive no remuneration of any kind for any review I write.  

Colors of My Friends

Color, tint, and shade

thought, emotion, subtlety

colors of a friend.

Broad sweeping brush stroke

painting pictures of my friends

I need more colors.

One is rich and deep

many layers, mostly blues

subtlety of wit.

Flashes of brilliance

and vulnerability

within the layers.

Blues don't excite me

not usually that is

this one is special.

Something about those

layers where life and love lay

in between those blues.

Desert, mountains, air

the color of a deep breath

fire in a soul.

Bold strokes friend of blue

hide the subtlety of you

and so I love you.

This friend I must paint

quickly for he's seldom still

a kaleidoscope.

Colors tumble round

bright, vibrant, colors moving

showing me so much.

Colors of love, lust

mixed with loss, and pain, and hurt

hope and joy there too.

Colors of friendship

strong, deep, safe, gentle brother

jewel tones for you.

For this friend-purple

one of my favorite hues

fit for gods and kings.

A nobility

graceful gentleness, kind heart

described in this hue.

Mischief is here too

the colors of a deep laugh

shading of a smile.

An honest brush stroke

faithfulness above all else

is painted here too. 

The colors of you

make you so special to me

you make me stronger. 

Some friends I hold tight

afraid of my own shadow

relying on them.

They are gracious, kind

patient when I cling too tight

they teach me to fly.

As I spread my wings

I see the colors of them

have rubbed off on me. 

Many friends are new

many colors still hidden

takes time to see you.

But in each, "Hello"

each glance, word, kiss, and embrace

I see more colors.

As you reveal you

add more color to canvas

my love for you grows.

I immerse myself in you

swirl your colors around me

loving learning you.

And in learning you

I find wisdom about me

painting both of us.

Dear Friend,

Good morning dear friend,

Re-reading your blog.

And wondering how you are doing now.

Wondering if you understand this gift you have.

Wondering how to help you see.

How to give you happiness?

Wishing you were closer

So that I could hold you quietly

When you doubt yourself so completely.

Wishing you were here, or I there

So that I could show you

All the people you touch everyday.

Wondering if today will be a good day for you

Wondering what I can say to make it happen

Give you all good days.

Good morning dear friend

Just checking in as usual

To tell you I love you.

Smile! Dammit!

Sometimes things are not

what they appear to be and

sometimes they just are

If you close your eyes

and listen with just your heart

you will hear the truth

You have conviction

in listing your shortcomings

what you lack is truth

Relativity

affects many things in life

not my love for you

When you feel the sun

caressing you with her warmth

feel my heart in yours

What the hell do I

need to do to make you smile?

Moon some passing cars?

Hey! Wow! Look at that!

Don't try and say you didn't.

I saw you grinning!

Poetry for a Friend

Sneaking up behind
wrapping arms fiercely around

nuzzling neck nips ear

You're instantly hard

the best form of flattery

is turning you on

As much as I want

your body, your mind, your heart

intrigue me much more

Tell me your stories

tell me your craziest dream

that's what real friends do

There's a place inside

the very center of me

where there's room for you

You won't be alone

all I hold dear have a space

hearts have no boundaries

We may write fiction

but the truth is in the words

spoken between friends

Max Bell

My dear friend, Max Bell, suffered terribly from COPD. He lived somewhere on the Northern Left Coast and we never met face-to-face. He could be a cantankerous bastard but I understood why. He made me think. He made me laugh. He made me smile. And, I loved him dearly.

He had a pet hedgehog. That alone made him remarkably special to me. But beyond the simple things, he believed in fairness, equality, common decency, all of those things that would make the world a much better place.

This morning I received an email from him with the subject line, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."--Dr. Seuss. It was a simple message signed by his mom:

Max is no more. He left this planet last Saturday quietly without pain or fear.
In place of a memorial please hug someone or vote democratic. Either would please him.

He contributed an essay to The Creativity Blog Project that will run on August 1st. Even his bio made me laugh when I read it and I still smile every time I see it.

Max Bell is just a guy with a hedgehog, a computer, and an internet connection.

Thank you, Max, for making my life just a little bit brighter just by knowing you. I am so very happy that you are finally free from the pain you endured with such grace and so very, very sad that I can't talk to you anymore.

One Day by Keith Dugger

I had a terrible, horrible, day today. Doubting myself. Frustrated. Angry. Sad. All those rotten emotions kept coming at me even as I tried to find my center, my balance. I had let someone upset and anger me well beyond what I should have. Basically, it was just one of those days. 

When I tried to vent some of this I became even more frustrated and angry because I was censoring myself. It's hard to vent and hold your thoughts back at the same time. Then I received an email from one of my best friends, Keith Dugger.  At the first two words the tears started to flow and by the end I was bawling like a baby. I guess I needed that.

Thank you, Keith for the gift of your words, your friendship, and for always knowing what I need from you even when I don't know myself. I love this.

One Day

by Keith Dugger

One day you'll look up and it'll be there. You may have stopped looking for it, hoping and praying for it by then. You may have stopped believing that you deserve it. At the time, you won't recognize it. Even if you catch a glimpse of something you remember, you'll tell yourself that it isn't possible. You'll see what the world around you had taught you to see, but it'll be there. 

One day you'll look up and you'll realize that it's been there all along. Even when others might have said different or pulled you down with them. It's the little things that bring it, it's the little things that tear it down. But it's there. Waiting. It's patient and it'll wait for you in the silvery shadows for as long as it takes for you to remember that you deserve its friendship, its companionship.

One day you'll look up and it'll be there staring back at you with a smile that seems humanly impossible. And that will be the day happiness reminded you that it was there.

Interrogation by Dave Sobkowiak

When a friend of mine, Dave Sobkowiak, saw the combination of posts from a few days ago he was inspired to create a little piece of writing for me.

The first post talked about my frustration at having to second guess which of my posts, which words, could or would be taken out of context or possibly used against me in some way by my soon-to-be-ex. And my decision to censor myself creatively and just not post any more poems for the time being. I then went on to take down about a third of my posts.

The second post was a call for submissions on Creativity, Art, and/or Inspiration. I hadn't thought about the two posts together. They were completely separate events for me. I have always had a fascination for finding out what makes people tick...in this case other artists.

Dave saw the irony (and felt my anger) of the two combined. First, I was saying that because of the actions of another I was taking my own content down. Then, I was asking for new content from others.

Thank you, Dave, for this. I love it.

Because of recent events I feel compelled to list the following disclaimers:
1. The following is a work of FICTION
2. I am not the author

That said, I hope this makes you smile...

Interrogation

by Dave Sobkowiak

Anger, fueled by rage.

That's what they said when they hauled me in, and deposited me unceremoniously on to the chair.

I expected a bright light in my eyes. I expected a stone-cold interrogator.

I half expected to be beaten with a hose, but to my surprise none of this occurred.

My cuffs removed, coffee offered and received, I remained untethered to the chair, watching as they played good cop and better cop.

I smiled politely, and I nodded occasionally when they offered their insights.

I feigned ignorance in a manner a child could recognize as transparent.

Their patience with me was admirable, but they knew the truth.

They will never find your body.

Guest Posts Wanted

Creativity
Art

 Inspiration

When you see those words what comes to mind? Are you a "creative"? Do you write, draw, compose, paint, dye, design, or create things that are unique to you?


I want to know your thoughts on any or all of those three words. In whatever context you chose to write about. What do you create? How do you do it? What inspires you? What are your thoughts on art in general? Anything. It can be insightful, poignant, funny--whatever--I want to know what YOU think.


I will be contacting people directly but don't wait for me...if you are interested you can send me a DM on Twitter (@BrightEyedDyer) or send an email to DyedBrightHere (at) gmail (dot) com. If I'm not already following you on Twitter, just give a yell and I'll correct that.


Thank you all in advance...I can't wait to find out what you think, what inspires your creativity.

**You can email your posts to me at the above address. I'm not looking to intrude too much on anyone's busy schedule so the deadline is when you can get it done (preferably in the next few weeks). I am hoping to start running them in a couple of weeks. One every day or other day depending on how many of you are brave enough...

Thank you again!


~~Added on 2/18/12:  This post and the response it generated were the catalyst to a little site called Chocolate Scotch. I am still seeking guest posts and would love to include you and your thoughts in this project.   Sue~~

For @Mattsontomlin

You are creating
What your heart dreams of doing
It is a big deal

Thank you for inspiring these words, Matt. Please remember them when the mundane threatens to take over the divine.

Insights on Art

I just finished listening to my friend, Paul E. Cooley's (of ShadowPublications.com) first con panel from ConJour, "Why Aren't Horror Movies Scary Anymore?"  and I had some thoughts, not just on horror or movies but on writing and creating in general. In fact, the lessons I take away from this would probably apply to just about any form of creative endeavor.

1. Get an education in your chosen medium. Learn the history and immerse yourself in what has already been done. Figure out what you like and don't like and most importantly, why.

2. Get an education in art in general. No particular medium exists in a vacuum. Inspiration and points of reference are everywhere.

3. Have something to say. If you don't know what you are trying to express, how will you know if or when you have said it? Once you have figured out what you want to say, don't pussyfoot around; express your point of view and defend it if you have to. Then, be willing to listen to people's opinions and maybe learn from them. Art is a conversation.

4. Keep it simple. And, often, less is more. You may have a lot of things you want to express, a lot of things you want to try. That's fine, but if you try to do too much in one piece you will most likely confuse your audience or lose them entirely. Do one or two things, and do them well. Save the next couple of things for your next piece.

I have never been a huge fan of horror in the past so my personal knowledge of this genre is very limited. I am thankful that my friends have different passions and preferences from mine as interacting with them broadens my horizons. So, thank you, Paul, for the insight you and your fellow pannelists provided. Job well done.

Step outside your comfort zone. Read, listen to, watch, or experience something you usually wouldn't; make yourself think. Who knows, you just might enjoy it...