check out a new post on Patina

This photo was inspired by the work of Maria Pia Tedesco
See her work at artistamato.blogspot.com.br

Read the full story at alchemyfineartanddesignpatina.blogspot.com

The Approach Of Election Day

 The image of a bird upon a nest is for most of us a bit reassuring. In a very subtle and completely non-verbal way, many of us see such things as a sign of hope. What this unsuspecting mother dove does not know is that she and her mate have built their nest on top of pressure treated lumber. The key word here is "treated" which means that the wood had been impregnated with a highly toxic additive which renders it unpalatable to creatures such as termites. To her everything looks just fine, but it's not.
Here in California, one of our ballot measures would require that all genetically engineered food to be labeled as such, and thereby  assure the public that the term  "Natural" apply only to food products which do not include any genetically engineered crops. Agribusiness interests are pouring a great deal of money into the campaign against this initiative. People want to know what they are buying and what's in it. A lot of big business interests would rather be able to redefine certain terms which might make it easier for them to remain somewhat less than transparent.

Before going any further it might be important to state that the author has not been affiliated with any political party for several years now.

People in a democratic society expect to be able to make informed decisions. Being able to do so is part of the rationale for mandating and funding public education, so that the people are better able to make choices based upon accurate rather than misleading information. Most of us, regardless of where we fall upon the political spectrum tend to support this idea. It is only certain professional politicians and lobbyists who find the idea of controling access to information appealing. At times  campaigns of disinformation are designed by  particular special interests so that they can continue to make deals behind closed doors where the general public can not see. Knowing who (either living individuals or corporate entities) supports an issue or candidate can influence how we evaluate something or someone.  Concealing the identity of a donor is not a protected form of expression under the First Amendment, but the Citizens United Decision rendered by our Supreme Court has now allowed unlimited funding of political spending and the public has no way of knowing where the money is coming from. The doors are closing on the age of transparency. Soon, if one party gains any more power, even the Freedom of Information Act could be dismantled.  Public Radio and Television are on the hit list of many who do the bidding of those who want to limit access to information and transparency.

During the most recent Bush Era, The ERIC Educational Network which freely disseminated research related to all levels of education was dismantled. Could it be that some of the results of research which did not support the many scripted programs which came into full force with No Child Left Behind were seen as too inconvenient or perhaps just too distracting for the educational community to have to deal with. Happily much of the  information once held in those collections has been restored and is now available, but for how much longer?

Will we see a multiplication of oil drilling platform permits in now protected areas? Will the public even  know? It's not a matter of energy independence, because there are many ways of moving in that direction, and most in big business and both parties are not that interested. Instead, for them it's  not only about making a quick buck, but also about monetizing almost everything. Social Security was almost on the chopping block before, but the Big Boys in the Back Room had to put on the brakes when AARP began to react. But they will try again. The R and R candidates will usher in another relaxation of all regulation once more, and we could have another financial crisis, but this time, we will as a nation go under, all thanks to those who want to provide a kind of corporate welfare state. I am not a huge fan of Mr. Obama nor many other national level politicians, but I feel that it is unfair to criticize him for not fixing the economy, when the Republicans in Congress have done all that they could to prevent him from doing anything. Almost without exception, they have made this their first priority and put the welfare of the American people on the back burner, just so that the President would not seem successful. It all comes down to being able to make choices, not having them forced upon you or taken away. We like to think of our nation as the land of the free, but if too many honest, hard working, and well meaning people do not really think about what are doing, it may be too late for us all after Tuesday. What worries me most is the Karl Rove is pulling a lot of the strings.

Six Words

Moments

of

Shared Trust

and

Vulnerability

Six Words

Struggling
             against
                      the
                                 urge
                                            to
                                                       Run











also consider: Retreat, Go, Stop, Sleep, Dream, Smile, Laugh, Cry, Disappear, Float, Quit, Surrender, Shoot, Attack, Avenge, Assume, Accept, Agree, Advise, and _________

new post on practical navigation log

a new entry on using the Tarot as a tool for navigating life.
practicalnagigationlog.blogspot.com

attempting ...

...to write a new short essay on attitude and possibility using the process and aesthetic convention of stone sculpture as a metaphor. I am in the process of working on a small piece of shale which has many fractures, inclusions and other "imperfections."  I also work with more traditional materials such as granite and marble which are more or less free from  such flaws. But tend to prefer the less than perfect pieces that others would most likely overlook, because I learn more from them.

Michelangelo told us that a piece of stone already contained the finished sculpture, and that it was the sculptors job to simply remove those parts which were concealing the true potential of the work.
To actually do this requires a great deal of  sensitivity on the part of the artist. Most artists back then and now though, didn't and don't attempt such a fete. It's far beyond the skills of many very talented and even quite gifted people.  Instead they impose their vision on the stone, and  in many cases the results are breath-taking. But it's possible that it would have been even more remarkable if the true essence of the  rock was revealed.
Using seemingly flawed stone, suggests many different paths. I have to  make decision. I don't follow up on every hint. Sometimes I successfully find my way and sometimes I ruin a piece. These objects help me to perfect my skills so that I will be more likely to feel and reveal the nature of a beautiful rock. The texture itself of even the most apparently flawless stone contains subtle variations and suggests direction and depth. It is a challenge, but a most rewarding one.

After thirty years of teaching, it is my sad observation that in quite a similar manner, students are more often than not shaped to preconceived standards rather than being allowed to reveal their uniqueness.  Fortunately the scope of modern education is rather limited and much of the original child remains in the young adult produced by our one size fits all system. But many are damaged along the way, both students and teachers. Teachers who actually know how to inspire are all too often not allowed to really exercise their skills. And those who are doing so are probably in violation of some rule.

just a reminder

There was still a little time,
he remembered thinking to himself,
and perhaps a chance or two to salvage things
to the extent that she wouldn't want to end everything immediately
that she'd feel sorry enough for him to postpone for just a bit longer what was probably inevitable

He would miss her so much
It's funny because after a few days of complete internal chaos and uncertainty,  he had managed to regain some balance.
That lasted for another  two or three days.

He began to think he was in the clear.
That he had somehow managed to dodge the bullet which usually hit him between the eyes.
And then of course just when he was beginning for feel thankful for that, it all caught up with him.

He hadn't allowed himself to fall for anyone like this in  a long, long time.
But it hadn't exactly been a choice.
It was meant to be,
but it was only meant to last for what would feel like a few moments.

And yet they would both remember,
perhaps forever,
not with a sense of loss, longing, or regret
but rather they would understand,
that the whole thing was a reminder,
that there was still hope for each of them.
There still was some hope left, still alive within them both.
Each had begun to doubt that
each believed they had given up on that possibility
before crossing paths with each other.

Promises, Promises

Devo-lhe a poesia tanto o meu suor meu querido,
e eu me sinto culpado.
Mas estou de luto pela perda de alguém que eu tinha começado a amar um pouco rápido demais,
mas eu poderia ter feito as coisas de forma diferente?
Ele simplesmente não era para ser.

Sentar para escrever a você com a melhor das intenções,
mas, em seguida, olhando para um pequeno pedaço de escultura em uma prateleira.
Ele está chamando para mim.
Eu devo ir, e trabalhar e me curar
com a arte.
Tente me perdoar.
Eu estarei de volta.
amor,
C

a warning of sorts to the poet time traveler:
@practicalnavigationlog.blogspot.com

maybe this is true...

...at least in this particular instance.
I am returning to life,
reopening myself.

I had pretty much shut down all non-essential contact with the world.
I had withdrawn more and more into my cave.
I was attempting to sort through the last several years and see what if anything I wanted from life.
If others approached, I would often pull back  more,
inside,
while trying to explain,
usually unsuccessfully.

But I have reversed course,
and surprise, surprise, I am enjoying myself quite a lot.

The credit really goes to one person,
but I realize that saying that could place quite a heavy burden on her shoulders.
And I don't want to do that.
So, I need to say a bit more.

When a woman approaches me, I can take forever to get passed my fear of getting pulled into 
a situation which will be difficult and painful to get out of. And in those rare cases when I have eventually come around and felt OK, she has lost interest and moved on, or even more sadly, gone back 
into a not so good relationship which she had left, or was trying to.


When I approach someone, it's  just the opposite. I am certain about everything, and feel that no obstacle in insurmountable, and she's thrown off by the fact that I "just know" so early on.  
I have a gift for scaring women away by saying too much, too soon,
about how amazing and wonderful and beautiful they are.

Perhaps it's the downside of being a poet, that when you think you've found "the one," it feels as if you've been waiting your entire life to find this particular person so that you can shower her with all these hopes, thoughts and feelings which you have been collecting over the years and saving just for her.

In spite of that inherent disposition/ disability, I  remain cautiously optimistic in general-
not about getting what I had hoped for from this woman,
but just optimistic about finding my way, and maybe 
or maybe not 
really connecting with someone deeply somewhere along my journey.


I am trying to make certain that even though what I had begun to hope for 
doesn't look like it's going to happen, that I will not pull back and hide
for an extended period of time as I have in the past.
I have withdrawn momentarily in the last few days,
but I don't feel like hiding.
I think that, I will want to try again.
I am disappointed, because what I imagined was something wonderful,
beyond anything I've ever known in the real life, non-dream world,
but still I more charged up than torn down,
I feel inspired rather than defeated.


That is part of what's so different.
That  I want to remain out here, in contact with the richness of life,
even if it means getting knocked around.
I want to be around all the  people I know and care about, drawing inspiration and hope from then,
but also trying to help when one of them is struggling, or needs something that I can help with.
And I had stopped doing that. But I am back.

I  know that  no matter what, even though what I had hoped would be so wonderful didn't turn out that way  that it's still be OK- that I'm OK.
That I won't want to check out of life again.

I Really Love Everything.
Wherever I look, I see so much that is truly inspiring,
even when I am looking at things which are sometimes quite unpleasant, or even tragic.
Everywhere, heroic people are trying to change things,
trying to make their small part of the world better.

And wherever I look, I see love as well.
I'm aware of  all the deception and manipulation, and what happens because of that,
how that spirals outward, and downward sometimes in a way that might seem endless,
but here and there, remarkable  people manage to break that cycle.
Some do it themselves, some help others to change their lives, and beat the odds,
even when the game appears to be rigged.

Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I am hopeful. And that I will continue to remain that way.
I am back to being me, and I like it.

walking

For some time I have known that proceeding from point A to point B is not my preferred processes.
I can do it when I need to, but I generally do it unless I must.

What I realized while walking at the beach, taking photos, collecting things and generally just looking around, slowly was that this is the way I would like to walk all the time. Stopping frequently to look around and ponder what is there at my feet and off in the distance. I walk like an egret, whenever I am able to. My thought process may be quite similar too.

convergence

I recently realized that the most important aspects of my personal journey through life, and my professional one overlap far more than I had ever imagined. Though the outer trappings are different, the inner dynamics and the learning processes are so similar. Writing the back story for the upcoming poetry collection and doing the same for a small nonfiction book about my work with children and other teachers are turning out to be almost identical tasks. It is very interesting to me.

Why So Sad, Little One?

 

yes,
just the right amount of sadness-
perfect for writing.

Everything is coming together,
even as many other things unravel.

check out:
lostandfoundinakayak-driftersjournal.blogspot.com

Às vezes, quando tenho de esperar para você-

Eu sofro tanto,

mas sempre vale a pena.



O anseio por sua ternura,

para a renovação da minha alma

faz o seu contato através da distância

tudo o mais doce

e toda a cura mais.



beijos de dez mil borboletas em suas pálpebras belas e deliciosas.


-


Sometimes when I have to wait for you-


I ache so much,

but it's always worth it.



The longing for your tenderness,

for your renewal of my soul-

makes your touch across the distance

all the more sweet

and all the more healing.



ten-thousand butterfly kisses on your beautiful and delicious eyelids. 
 

First Light

You are the last few million kisses of starlight fading away,

but I am not sad,

for you are not really gone-

you have simply changed form.

You the first light of the morning,

gently waking the world

with a symphony of light playing upon the dew

making each new day more wonderful than the one before

offering hope and inspiration to all who can really see your beauty.

Thank you my dear one

Primeira Luz

Vocês são os últimos milhões de beijos de luz das estrelas desvanecendo,

mas eu não estou triste,

para você não são realmente ido-

você simplesmente mudou de forma.

Você a primeira luz da manhã,

suavemente acordar o mundo com uma sinfonia de jogar luz sobre o orvalho fazendo com que cada novo dia mais maravilhoso do que o anterior oferecendo esperança e inspiração para todos que realmente pode ver a sua beleza.

Obrigado meu querida

He had not resisted-
He trusted the Flow-
and understood that everything
really was connected.
So even though he was supposed to be
working on something else,
he first wrote to her,
feeling that it might even fit into
the other projects.
And it was fine for a while
Until he sent off what he had written
and then began to second guess
and doubt everything,
He even sent off an apology
but even so he didn't delete the post,
but he did consider it.

He was dead in the water.
The wind had been taken from his sails.
There was very little he could do.
Writing was not one of them.

Eventually
(waiting used to be one of his strengths, but
it seemed that he was having to learn
to do it all over again)

Her kind and gracious words (he had started to write "gracias" hmmm)
came and relieved his anguish.

It seemed that a warm and gentle breeze had begun to blow.
It wasn't anything like the massive energy  of a wide open Flow State (see the book Flow)
but it was enough,
to get him moving again-
circuitously of course, but moving,
and very soon he would be on task,
but also holding her in his heart
as he worked.
Obrigado

Whenever you speak 

Any words of love

The Universe rewards you

With more love,

Inner harmony, 

And healing energy

-

(written after sending off a note

to a dear friend and then

feeling his own energy shift

immediately afterward)

Minha brisa suave
or
La mia dolce breeza
???
I  like them both

so now I have begun to really flirt with you,

not just playing

the way I usually do

with those I know who will not take me seriously,

because it's just for fun-

just to help me feel that I am still alive.

These carefully selected women are kind,

compassionate partners

who sense the truth about me

even though most others have a very different impression-

because at the end of the day,

in the dark of the night

I am

all

alone.

And that is what I've said I wanted-

AND NEEDED

because there was really nothing left

to offer another

or

almost nothing.

The cumulative effects

of the last few times around

have more or less finished me off.

There's only a small flicker of hope

that still remains

and once in a while,

against my better judgment and logic

it does on its own begin to respond

to someone,

usually someone who seems “safe”

because they are far away

or for some other reason which renders them impossible

and therefore not actually available,

but of course

it often turns out

that even then, they were not so safe after all

but everything usually tends to run its course,

with me quite predictably

crashing

and

burning

and

aching with just the right amount of sadness

to write a new series of poems and chapters for

one my own never ending stories

Low Tide Desparados,

Tsunami Surfers

or

Lost And Found In A Kayak.

It might be important to say that

with the exception of one person

none of them intended to do me in.

They never tried to do the damage

they ended up doing.

I don't feel like a victim.

It's just what happened.

Perhaps it's part of the grand plan-

to help me become a better

and even more prolific poet.

At certain points in time

writing my reflections,

my attempts to make sense of things

was all that I was able to do.

Writing at the beginning and end

of each day kept me going,

but it has at times held me prisoner.

Once I had to stop.

I was prolonging everything

and not allowing the dust to settle

or letting the wounds heal,

but most of the time

it is beneficial.

It helps me to understand.

Friends and relatives occasionally attempt

introduce me to someone they feel would be nice

for me to meet,

but most of the time

I run

because I know that I am not ready.

I don't have things together enough

in my life.

And I haven't managed to heal myself

though I have made some progress..

Some argue that the right person could help with that,

or that even the wrong person

might be better than

the way things are now.

I know

that for most people

and

even for me

at some other time

that might be true,

but not right now.

Not Now.

At this moment

I

can't

do

anything-

until I have finished writing about the ones

who have come before

about what has taken place

inside.

I'm not blaming anyone,

just trying to understand

so that

next time,

if there is a next time

I will

be a better partner

and

perhaps

be able to survive

this whole thing

of being in a relationship and still do

what I need to do for me

rather than

giving away too much.

That has been my pattern-

always trying to take care of the other person

and

forgetting about myself.

That is

what I've always done,

but

I can't do it

anymore.

Doing what I need to do

has now become

all too clear,

and essential.

It's not even a choice anymore,

but still

I don't really trust myself with women.

Maybe one day,

maybe even soon,

but

not

just

yet.

But even then,

in the case of you and I

there's still all the distance

and probably neither of us can do much to change that,

because I think we both have deep, deep roots where we are

and the others around us just couldn't bare it,

and would feel too hurt

if we weren't around.

Why am I even writing this?

Querida, Querida, Pia

I don't even know you

and yet …

It feels like I do

even from far away.

I'm not asking you to wait,

or for anything else

because that would be unfair

and even cruel.

It's Ok

if you want me to stop,

I will.

I can do that.

“Bastante” might be exactly

what you should be saying,

But I hope that

you will somehow understand,

and be able to

take things in stride

without it causing you to feel uncomfortable

or off balance.

If you are able

to accept the very little bit

that a cowboy poet can offer

(which is not much more than his songs)

because

he has not taken good care of things in his life.

He hasn't cared enough

about himself

for a long, long time,

and it shows,

but

even though he's still not ready for anything-

whenever he finds something or someone

of exceptional beauty,

he doesn't really have a choice,.

because he is a poet

He Just Needs To Write About It.

I Need To Write About You-

You ARE so beautiful

in so many different ways.

I just have to say it.

c

A Definition Of What I Mean By "Wide Open"

With a title like Wide Open, one might assume that my posts could be completely raw- unedited and uncensored. And while almost anything is at least theoretically possible, it is my hope that these pages will prove to be a bit more meaningful than that.

I write all the time, most of the time every day, whenever I have the inclination and opportunity. This forum draws heavily from the thoughts and feelings contained in my journals. Obviously though, there's a great deal in the journals which doesn't make it into this or any of my other more specialized blogs. Most of what I write is primarily for me, from the poetry to the non-fiction pieces. I share some. I do at times craft something for a particular audience or even an individual, but even so, the motivation for beginning a project usually goes back to the fact that it was something I wanted to explore for my own understanding.

Wide Open for me implies a high degree of honesty- integrity.

It means that I don't hold anything back just to make it safe or more sanitary.

Everything is presented in the spirit of exploration and a genuine effort to dig beneath the surface of first impressions, sound bites and occasionally even a few long held assumptions.

There are many things I don't choose to share, but when I do present something here, I make the attempt to present everything about a topic that I believe will be interesting or useful to a potential reader other than myself. I generally don't tend to trash anything or anyone. Instead, I feel that it's more productive to quietly and clearly raise questions. Hopefully no yelling and screaming here.

It is my hope that people of many differing perspectives will eventually visit here and find this environment hospitable, even when we might disagree about something.

I think that's is a worthwhile aspiration.

For some time, I've been wanting to try to clarify things somewhat and define my terms.

Thanks for the occasional read and for pointing others in this direction.

My next task is to try to publish more frequently and consistently. I do have quite a back log of material. With more than forty years of journal entries to draw from plus a continuous stream of new ponderings, there's no shortage of supply here. Time, Time Time- are you just an illusion?

Perhaps I will one day learn to stretch you just a bit more.