We can be changed. A good sail on a warm day, that can change a person. If we do something for a long time it will have an impact on us. It becomes part of something we reference. We talk about the things we learn and those lessons are often the result of the experiences we’ve had. Still some changes happen that instant, in that moment, we are better for it, and right now. Some of what we do has a longer time line. And then of course we might go in search of one thing and discover another thing we didn’t know we would find there. Most all of us attempt to bend the storyline in our own favor: get out of the hot sun, meet the girl we are interested in for a drink, go to the movie we are interested in, avoid the speeding tickets, and when we see our doctor hope for a clean bill of health… Sailing is surprising. Things come up you could never dream up. Wind increases, waves grow steep, docile sea conditions become wild, then wilder and then the recreational sail you imagined becomes a journey demanding attention, focus, skill and precision. More than once my boat has taken me to places I didn’t want to go, put me into a bind I didn’t want to be in, left me humbled. People who claim sailing is boring strike me as funny. An breezy afternoon on San Francisco Bay will change that after just one stout gust….
Mojave on Monday, Wednesday middle of the San Francisco Bay. Natives of Northern California anticipate seasonal change. Spring
arrives and comes at a time and a moment of our dreaming. We know we are anchored to our own sliver of reality, but it is our elixir, today is a moment that intoxicates, it frames the hills, it sweeps the bay, the sun aches to speak, to touch us, to tell us, that for one more moment on this ride call life……that life is sweet right here….Californian dreaming…….
could have pressed the pause button, if we could have deleted this decision, if the valleys population had not exploded, growing so fast as to exceed the speed of thoughtful urban planning things might have been different. Where once people felt that in this place anything was possible there are now many who are left to wonder. Even if Mill Avenue by some miracle had got all its changes right there is still the surrounding tumult of what we know as the Valley of the Sun. We all watch the rise and fall, the waves of change… it tugs at our heartstrings.
“At the junction with the Coast Highway and the Carmel Valley Road he paused at a traffic
light and then proceeded straight into the heart of Carmel. The business district was comprised
of a quaint group of buildings nestled together beneath cypresses, eucalyptus,
live oaks, palms, and all manner of magnificent trees.”
Tonight in Tempe. Street shows at 5th and Mill Avenue. Four shows today. I played this space first in 1992. It has been on my schedule since. Tempe Festival of the Arts has been happening since the 70’s….. Lots of change… Played my first date in Tempe in 1974. Lacey is hanging with me at our hosts home. While out on the street she stays behind. Our audiences are banged up and you can feel it here. Arizona is on a down swing of some kind………it would be too easy to say it is politics, too easy to say it is economics, but we are in the realm of the changes here…something needs changing here…something…….needs to change
world is a grand fantastic romance. It might be you shelved the romantic thing.
Maybe instead you decided enough of that. It isn’t necessary to write about
relationship to write fiction, but of the kind of three dimensional characters
I am interested in exploring it is a fundamental. With so many options in the
modern world a relationship is for some nothing more than one to many options
that clutters their busy schedule. Relationship can be inconvenient,
uncomfortable, something to manage. Too many come with too much expectation, or
wielding too dangerous a love to risk loving. Then, we have those in our midst
who write love and relationship large, multiple marriages, multiple loves,
tumult and heartbreak, new intrigue and withering sad endings needing final
extinguishing if they only knew how or the best moment to do so. Heartbreak is
a head rush, clears the mind, the sharp stabbing pain, the distraction, the
inability to eat or eat too much, it tips us over, the purpose of all those
slow ballads hones in on the ache and we promise ourselves never, ever again at
least a while…
walked off in the direction she had just come. She continued down the beach.
Noel couldn’t help but reflect that only moments before he had been thinking
about where to go and what to do, and now all of a sudden he was thinking about
what the chances were of finding somebody special.”
A Tom turkey in full breeding plumage displayed his glorious stuff yesterday in the neighborhood. The turquoise blue head, the waddle, the fanned tail all naturally acquired by the spring shifting tide of chemically induced involuntary transformation. And then there is man, the fabulous homo-erectus. We stand before the mirror. Leave unfastened one perhaps two buttons on our shirt. Pants of a certain fit. Shoes
polished. Teeth brushed and hair combed, and then perhaps a jacket to broaden out the line on the shoulders. We are not so confined by season as by day of week. Of course spring hits us hard. We get extra perky as those fantastic feminine spring fashions begin appearing here and there. Spring is just one added push on the instincts. But, it is articulate. It speaks and it urges and it pushes us to lengths, desperate measures must be considered, something must be done. You can see these creatures out and about lingering where they might be seen or see. Where love might call them by their name…where what might occur is an event that makes sense of all this clucking and preening, all this
getting ready, waiting for that singular anticipated moment when into view the whole of their life changes.
“She was self-conscious when she spotted
Noel and ran her fingers through her hair as if to tidy it up for his
approval. Noel could sense she had grit.
It was her penetrating green eyes that told this story. She also had freckles
on her face that became more noticeable as she blushed.”
“There is a twisting four-mile road from the village of Los Osos to Montaña De Oro near San Luis Obispo, California. It winds one lane wide hrough a grove of eucalyptus trees before breaking out upon a clearing of windswept grassy hills, and then comes to a primitive wood bridge spanning a small creek that has cut a deep canyon through the Spooner Lane campground before emptying into the Pacific Ocean.”
The more things change the more things remain the same. I’ve heard that said. It is a homily. A slogan you can rely on. I find sage sayings dangerous because they can hide an exit from one of life’s great challenges right under your nose. Our guidance system is best designed in open format. The closed loop system will force nasty little experiences to recur again and again in our lives. These patterns we become aware of will
arise and repeat. They want our attention and until we give them their due will come back to visit us in various forms. What is fascinating is that these items on our agenda escape the space/time continuum and seem free to visit us as at a time and place of their own choosing. So, selecting one choice will land you smack dab right back where you started. Selecting the other choice, let’s call this the different choice, will land you somewhere else. No map, no trail, not really sure where you have found yourself, but there you are, and now perhaps the chance to start fresh, authentically, reviving and arising out of the smoldering old you comes the new taking a chance on a change in the way you do
things you… You’ll know this location because you won’t feel the same. It will feel “not same.”