Occasional Sputterings

 An invisible kiss, riding the air, floats upon a breeze. Traveling amongst, the ambient bliss, arriving near your seas. Knocking gently, with kind intent, It does not awaken you But roams the plenty filled gardens, collecting morning dew. It repeats its knocking, gentle, scented, until you rise and hear. And as you open door, the day greets and then the kiss draws near. It waltzes airly without out landing, and sets upon your brow. And as it contacts, your forehead, you know i'm with you now.

 Gone to Sierra Madre Don't know when I'll be back If you knew me you'd know why If you don't, won't give you lack Gone to Sierra Madre Where the skies are all clear The rivers are clean And where I have no fear Gone to Sierra Madre Where my darkness can die To cleanse my inner beast And my fortune to scry Gone to Sierra Madre Won't be back home soon mother nature is calling mother mountain is too Gone to Sierra Madre Or she'll come to me Wouldn't that be a sight Like the ground walking free Gone to Sierra Madre For it is my home And when I am returned I am never alone

[ TOC ]  Book - Introduction I keep wanting to write a book. Sometimes it's a book of poetry, sometimes it's stories, sometimes it's essays, and sometimes it's doodles. But I quit. Lots of little reasons - chores, boredom, irritation, distraction. The reality is, like anything else, the writing isn't the hard thing. It's the expression of the hard thing. It's an indicator of disarray - but it isn't something to put stock into. Because books matter. And ideas are valuable. Perhaps a mis-quote to put things into perspective: "Success isn't doing the one thing right; it's learning to not do the many wrong things often enough that something sticks" ~ Some random person. Here in the middle, my attribution: I give credit to God for getting me this far. I have lived in a God-bubble my entire life; this doesn't mean my life is perfect - rather, that I am far more blessed than I have any right to be...

 [01 - intro + meet main (1257)] It was a dark and stormy night. The wind  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 20201102-01-0254/+4 Marcus sat in his warm chair and held the thick, closed portfolio. Hearing the breeze ease through the trees made him turn. Barely visible in the moonlight, the sounds of swaying branches reminded him of beaches of crushed shells with only the tide to keep him company. The smell of leather drew him back. * I've checked this a dozen times. He has the spark. He just doesn't see it. * Opening the portfolio, Marcus reviewed the dossier. Upon the desk a holographic man stood, rotating slowly. Dressed in a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, the figure repeated the same set of brisk motions: a burpee, a pull-up, a round-house kick, and a box-jump. Swiping in mid-air, the holographic man became a baker; the figure began making an endless collection of pancakes. Cont...

 Two part approach [o] main character is surrounded by wonder/beauty/interesting and cannot see it [o] pick-your-path element - reader decides how the main character responds ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [01 - intro + meet main] [02- meet sidekick] [03 - decision - man vs nature OR man vs self OR man vs society OR man vs man] [04 - develop sidekick; either side-kick is decision independent OR side-kick is dependent] [05 - foreshadow success AND fail - what does each decision / type of conflict / look like resolution-wise] [06 - introduce first minor conflict - all four types] [07 - introduce minor conflict resolution - one of the four will result in killing the main character (go back)] [08 - introduce second minor conflict - four types] [09 - introduce minor conflict resolution - one will kill the main character (different than #7); (go back)] [10 - introduce third minor conflict - fou...

This is the reef that never ends. Cause it goes on and on my friends ... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He talked to her. Said good and true things. Sometimes. She asks a question. He tries responding ... but maybe talks too long or pauses long enough. She interrupts - not wanting to lose her thought(s). He gets hurt - maybe gets offended, maybe forgets what he was going to say. And he feels smaller. Why don't words work? So he attacks. Or defends. In the trenches, is there a difference? She crumbles. She was just trying to connect. Maybe she's perfect. Maybe he's flawed. There doesn't seem to be a way to be vulnerable without being attacked. He learned, long ago, that being attacked is painful. And only stupid people let themselves be hurt. So when his guard is up, he stops the attack. Because if he can't be pain-free, at least he will be safe.