Books

The Tentacles of World Wide Changerizerization

guzzlerizing

What’s invisible, always present, constantly happening, and for the most part something we simply can do nothing about? What do science denier’s know that those science believers can’t understand? When was the last time you changed your mind? I did. Read a story about an Alfa Romeo with a 1.4 liter engine that is said to get 55 mpg and wait for it…….it’s supposed to be fun! At current fuel prices in California “fun” isn’t exactly my carbon debasing atmospheric current most favorite earth destructive activity. If only they had kept the price lower so that I could afford to do more harm! But, no, sorry, can’t do that. I’m not all that against higher fuel prices so much as I am a big believer in smaller more fuel
efficient engines. That way I can enjoy the best of both worlds. First, I can be a head up my (pick your favorite location) and get out there and drive as if it were an unalienable right while at the very same time go zipping down the byways and highways flinging a little bitty Alfa this way and that knowing I’m getting that same old thrill while shaving half the cost from the bill. I find science denier’s really hypocritical when I spot such a soul tootling down the highway in a  electronically injected, computer controlled, variably valve timed advanced engine controlled low emission vehicle that they really have to admit that they love…This is denier in changerizer cycle of the spin mode of the brainwash machine…May the paradox be with you…

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 through 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.
With the practiced eye of a photographer Noel Sanderson framed shots of the
broad expanse of sea to his right as he drove south down the dirt road in his
Spartan and well ordered 1968 Dodge van.

Highway Home

Books

Secret Changes

I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...right

Creating characters with emotional power I am finding requires the indirect method. The character needs context. Empathy can be aroused for a character whose partner has been hospitalized. If they are flawed that is all the better, and better still if they are worthy of sympathy. I don’t mean pity, but a true feeling of compassion for the place they find their life suddenly thrown into. I think this basic building block is fundamental to fiction construction. Excessive sentimentality is cloying. Purposeful use of complexity pays its way when in the unfolding layers of a scene we have that sudden flash, the insight, that seeing into reality that we’ve never quite understood before. If you haven’t noticed I themed my blog titles and there is always the word change in the blog postings. Long fiction rewards when we are allowed behind the curtain. Sometimes real people hide from their own painful truths, resist looking at what they are, what they’ve done. I am never more alive than when I all at once see that the curtain has gone up and I am no longer hiding from anyone about anything…. At least for the moment, but then  secrets are as stubborn as change…

“Sammy, how old are you?”

“Between you and me, it is not so much a
secret, but for Noel you must never tell, I am just 31. And you?”

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Books · Performances

The End of Change itself….

Lasting Embers of an Incendiary Career....

 

Into the mix of changes comes mortality, birth- life- then death, then………..In some belief systems there is the notion that after death comes rebirth and after rebirth another incarnation and that this incarnation is part of many former lives and that we’ll likely be born again. I have a hard time buying in on this idea, but I have no difficulty seeing that after this version of being here that there are going to be other versions of being here even though I might not have the pleasure of a really fabulous human mind to play with in the next visit. We know that we know we are here and we can think about being here and reflect on the idea that it will end. Perhaps we come back as a tree and its hard for me to get my mind around the quality of a trees consciousness, whether it knows that it knows….I’m here in Seattle for a memorial for Hokum W Jeebs… his work as an eccentric musician is part of my second novel, Bankrupt Heart, and in this one sense Hokum’s life extends into the future in an absolute sense. And so we can view end in the strict sense of the word as having a final point, or we can see it to be a movable feast, that in another way nothing ever ends, things continue on and on and on……..

Books

Change is Nothing

You can view the moment from here

 

Since all of life is change, and all of change is life it sometimes turns out to be invisible for those of us looking for change. Change isn’t everything it is made out to be. It consists often of defining moments. Some of our moments we place in affirmation, some in the negatory column… What deck of cards, what hand, what circumstances are you dealing from this week? Some days we say bring it on. That’s one idea. Some days we say give it a rest. If you rest in some part of the center of your life, and you could go north or south, east or west, to the heavens or below to the earth, you can go forward into the future, back into the past, you can into yourself or outbound into the exterior…….. these are the ten directions………..N/S/E/W/ up / down/ future / past/ inside of self/ outbound/ or right where you are…….the present moment…..

Books

Cedes of Change

Sunrise Berlin

If you have been following along you’ll have noted that I have
placed a particular accent on change. I am fascinated by changes directional
nature, that it is by one dimension bound to time…going from present to future…we
can’t change the past we are it seems doomed to repeat it. I am also interested
in how change can be a bully. It can intimidate, it can harangue. Change can
shatter. Change is constant our awareness of change is not. The people that
gain my greatest attention seem to come with spine, put shoulder into it,
resist nonsense, and are capable of articulating the reasons for the course
they intend to take. If you haven’t noticed reason is not fashionable. We do
life by way of force. We don’t seem to be guided by this ability to look at the
whole playing field. We are not enacting change based upon the biggest frame of
all frames. It appears we are hijacked by some sub-frame. The less than best
choice forces less favorable outcomes, at the expense of the many for the
benefit of few. The game has an end.

Books

Change of Heart So Long Liz Taylor…

Time for Love
Be still my beating heart. The
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…
“He jammed his hands back into his pockets, and
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.”
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Books

Pheromonal Changes…

Something to look up to...

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.”

 

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Home

Books

Changing the Change

Mirror image of the same thing

“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.”

Highway Home

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.”

Books

Never Change, Always Remain the Same

The Bumpy Road of Life

“Noel walked off into the darkness with Jasper, back toward the van. He walked with a
weave; the pot and brandy had put a wiggle in his wandering and a wonder in his imagination.”

Highway Home

I enjoy seeing a character in a story forced to change. I like to see unmarried singles fall in love and wrestle with monogamy. I enjoy people who are married having affairs. I enjoy the mess. I much prefer reading about such misadventure on the page. It is there in the safety of the printed word we can avoid accidental pregnancies, contracting some sort of infectious disease, or breaking someone’s heart. I don’t know that any of this changes anything. Some tequila self soaked barrier removing event like a Friday night out on the town it seems many an individual has discovered another version of self spontaneously emerging in the cloak of darkness. Even the single friends among us pledge to be a bit more careful about what they do and promise to begin being careful starting right now! If you are naturally monogamous, inclined to long term relationships, and seldom addled by doubt count yourself fortunate to be able to contemplate other areas of your life that might be subject to change. There are so many other splendid areas of misadventure to explore, so many other ways to discover that what you think and how you act are subject to the element of surprise. Watching a devout womanizer falling in love and discovering the splendor of the monogamous virtue is heartwarming. It is an excellent view from the pull out on the road of life from where the Psychic Grand Canyon of Change can be safely appreciated. This sanity is welcomed. This is the actuality of the aesthetic,thoughtful, non-harming distance. A good read can be a great cure for change that makes things so much more the mess.

Books

I Don’t Have to Show You No Stinkin’ Changes…

Version 1982 Bernal Heights, San Francisco

“He looked over his face in the mirror, checking his shave by running his hand across his cheek, chin, and neck. Then he took out his toothbrush and buffed up that wide grin of his. In-between strokes he kept practicing his smile.”

Noel Sanderson from Highway Home

 

I have had a steady stream of agreeable different versions of me. I’ve got my favorite version, the bad old version and of course the current version.I don’t get around to doing much about keeping up with all my versions. I usually check the daily version in the mirror first thing in the morning. I try to check under the gentleness of incandescent light. The florescent version goes against my current high opinion of the manipulated contemporary version. Having to carry all this around and it is a heavy load isn’t much fun for those people who come along and wish to puncture my ongoing personal version of a balloon. Now, this inflated balloon is a masterpiece, a lifework, an ongoing effort organized by the very nature of the beast to do everything in its power to sustain a maximum effort to place lipstick upon this present moment’s version. And then to find out all this is in fact a myth, a hoax, that there is no there “there”. Turns out I’ve been unmasked, that this fixed constant version never even existed, instead there is only yet another version. I’ve been getting out under a shade tree in the afternoons taking out the old version and waxing and polishing it up. Doesn’t stay clean long, I flip the light on the next morning and there it is looking at me in the mirror.