Tag: writing

A New Beginning Dream

Winds hissed and howled, moaned and whistled last night. Rain splattered against the night world. Our young cat, Papi, wanted out, back in quickly, back out – hey, let’s try the front – and back in, etc. The cat’s demand fractured my sleep. Some time was then spent on writing the end of the novel but sleep finally hit. With it came dreams.

My wife and I were younger looking but in our current life situation, otherwise known as retired people. We were at a new place. Many of the buildings were white and brand new. She and I walked about it like astonished tourists taking in world wonders. News came by spoons, this was a new city. Not huge but neither was it small, its focus was about solving world issues. The mix of ethnicities and sexes impressed me, convincing me that this was a united effort across many races and nations. Engineers, architects, artists, and military members were among the people we met and saw, along with farmers and ranchers, all identified to us by what we saw them doing or what was overheard mentioned. Then came congratulations to me because I was part of this, brought on to help organize it. Well, super, I was flattered as hell but doubtful that I belonged. Insistence that I did was pushed on me by multiple folks. Well, okay, I guess I belong.

Next, we were elsewhere, traveling before going to the new place. Part of that meant I was meeting with others. We met on a stage. They were going to exercise before the formal handoff meeting. Did we want to join?

I did, but my wife didn’t. She wandered off as our impromptu class stretched and warmed up, awaiting our instructor. My stretching astonished me. Balanced on one leg, I raised the other above my head with ease. Wow, was I impressed. I jumped up and down and found I needed to be careful or I would crack my skull on the ceiling. Somewhere within those actions, I decided to change and poof, was changed into form fitting light gray workout clothes with a white headband. The instructor arrived but too much time was passed. My wife arrived, informing me that we had to go on because we were meeting other people in another city.

Zip, we were in the new city at a semi-formal event. Senior military people were there in large numbers. The spouse and I experienced minor confusion about what was going on and why we were in attendance. Servers circulated with trays of drinks. We accepted wine and champagne. Sipping drinks, we milled, meeting others, getting introduced. One young colonel who was a bald black man mentioned the new city in conversation. I responded that we knew about it.

His eyes widened. “You know of it?” When I said yes, he questioned me in an easy manner, confirming that we spoke about the same place and that I really knew about it. I finished by telling him, “We’re going to live there. I’ve been asked to join the staff.”

A smile split his face. “Wow,” he said. “Congratulations.” He thrust his hand at me. I shook it, grinning. As I did, I looked left. A small white model of the new city was on display. My wife stood beside it. I thought, that’s pretty cool. That’s where we’re going, to a new city and a new beginning.

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The Writing Moment

The best thing he could do is write with the conviction that he was telling the best possible story in the best possible way. Thoughts such as is it too long, too complicated or convoluted or boring to others had to be shoved aside. He needed to write it like it was ordained to be wondrous.

Otherwise, he would just stop. And then, what would he do?

Yes, he had to write with that conviction.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Howdy, peeps, and merry Thursday. Have we got a Thursday in store for you. Sunshine and — well, not yet. No clear sunshine, not yet. Not with that plate of clouds guarding the valley sky. Which also means, um, no blue skies, either, not yet. Maybe later. Although today’s winter weather advisory has some skin in that outcome.

But it is 44 F under all that wintry sky. No signs of incipient precipitation, other than, you know, clouds. And today’s high will be 45 F, so we have that going for us.

Not bad, no. Others are enduring worse, yeah. We await the outcome of the weather advisory and hope for more snow up on the mountain’s packs. The sun stepped up at 7:27 this morning and will retire from valley duties at 4:38 PM. This is Thursday, December 8, 2022.

I enjoy posting the day’s sunrise and sunset every day. Tracking how those times change for my valley through the year’s action helps me solidly envision planet Earth’s tilt and rotation as it speeds around Sol. Sometimes I try looking closer to see myself, peering down at the racing planet surface as it flashes by about 1,000 miles an hour. But I’m usually in the house or in a car or the coffee shop, only emerging to check mail, do some work, or take walks. A small percentage of day is actually spent ‘outside’. When I am outside, I’ll often look up and wave, thinking that either ET civilizations or government satellites will spot me. Just being friendly, you know?

Canned Heat and their 1970 song, “Let’s Work Together” came up in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons heard me pleading with the muses yesterday while I was walking and glancing up for spy satellites and aliens, “Can’t you guys get organized and work together?” The muses seem to like rushing the writing room en masse and then throwing things at me from different angles to see what sticks. I type like mad, write notes, and make plans, but it’s all ugly intense. Hearing my plea caused The Neurons to dig into the music memory box and tug this song out. I used it as theme music back in 2018 but it feels like it’s time to use it again.

It’s also a good song for dealing with some issues of the day, like divided politics and climate change. Just saying.

Stay positive and test negative. I’m getting The Neurons a cuppa coffee. I’ll probably have one, too, and grab some for the muses as well.

Here we go. Enjoy the music. Merry Thursday. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Dawn broke, and now we could see why it was so dark. Last night’s sky was clear. Enriched by unblemished moonshine, spectacular starry mountain vistas were on offer.

Today, clouds have gone come down and fog hugs the ground. Grey is the color of the sky, and sunlight evades our searching eyes.

It’s Tuesday, December 6, 2022. Hear the tick tick of the digital clocks emulating the grandfather clock’s countdown? That’s the sound of the year leaving. Or maybe it’s the sound of the next year hurrying to us. The sun showed up on our spinning planet’s piece called southern Oregon at 7:25 this morning and will toss goodbye over its sunny shoulders at 4:39 PM. It’s 0 C but we’re hopeful of reaching 44 F today. Rain? No, they say. They’re telling us that despite the overcast sky and fog I’m seeing, it’s actually mostly sunny in Ashland. Most be another part of town.

What I notice of my morning rituals is that the summer sun comes in through the large east-facing living room window. By this time of the year, the sun shyly looks in through the southern window around the corner from the living room window and twenty-three feet further up the side of the house. They have come to be known as the summer window and winter window for me.

I awoke with a Led Zeppelin favorite in mind. Coming out in 1971, when I became fifteen years old, Led Zepp’s fourth album had a song on it called “When the Levee Breaks”. Now, I enjoyed that entire album but that song was the one which usually haunted me later. Later reading revealed that it was an old country song, which added a layer of thinking that stimulated greater introspection. Its worrying lyrics and downcast beat seemed firmly rooted in someone’s existence.

Later, I found its beat and tone conducive to walking and thinking. I was then and have always been a person who enjoys walking distances. I’m one to take the long way home when I’m on my feet, climbing up hills to gain a broader perspective. So it was that I was out yesterday, climbing the hills and thinking about my writing in progress when The Neurons rummaged through my youthful memories and began playing it. It stayed in my morning mental music stream today.

When I went off looking for a version to play today, I stumbled upon this version by the Playing for Change project. Incorporating a huge variety of sounds and talented individuals, it’s even more powerful and haunting than the version Zepp gave us. John Paul Jones of Zepp is included among the musicians. Derek Trucks is one of the folks on slide guitar. I hope you listen to the song and that it stirs you as it does me.

Off for coffee. Stay pos and test negative. Here’s the video. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

It’s an auspicious Sunday morning. Fox Sports viewers are still reeling from an extreme closeup of Michigan’s Coach, Jim Harbaugh, delivered by a ref cam on television yesterday. Oh, the humanity!

December 4th has its hands around us. Mild weather in our valley is putting on airs. 40 F now, we anticipate a high that exceeds (or not) 49 F. Mostly cloudy, with the sun playing peek-a-boo with us, the ground is wet from nocturnal rain, and those clouds are saying, “Seriously, we might let loose with some water again. Don’t laugh. We mean it.”

DIY plans have gone awry. The microwave went out again last week. New parts were ordered. They arrived yesterday. Soon as I picked up that box, I knew the right parts weren’t within. The box weighed about eight pounds, which seems heavy for a door microswitch and a plastic switch holder. Emails were sent. Replies are awaited. The cats are watching the skies for carrier pigeons from customer service.

Other DIY plans are going well as new interior seals are put on the windows. Tiny measures like that make a huge difference. The house feels so much snugger and cozier. Yes, I did procrastinate on getting that done. It was overdue. I blame the cats for that.

With a weather break and the winds dissipated, both cats are out on sentry, one each covering the front and back approaches. News of a local cougar killing a pet cat has us on edge. Previous reports were out but this time, cyclists witnessed the cougar with the cat in mouth. That seems pretty accurate.

The Neurons have “Let It Roll” by Little Feat (1988) pumping through the morning mental music stream. It’s funny that this is the song that ended up there. Yes, funny, ha, ha. I was thinking of my novel in progress, pondering where the muses were going to take me. I feel like I have a blindfold on. They’re standing around me, giggling and smothering their laugher, telling me what to do. My response is, yeah, let it roll. Let’s see how it rolls out. But a number of artists come to mind when the song lyrics ‘let it roll’ go by. Foremost is usually BTO — yeah, Bachman Turner Overdrive for the uninitiated — urging, “Let it roll! Down the highway. Roll. Roll.” I speculate that the weather has The Neurons in a Germany state of mind. I was stationed in Germany for a few years in the late eighties. Weather there was often overcast. Seeing this weather reminded me of those German days. That’s when this Little Feat song came out.

Coffee time! Stay positive and test negative. Mask up as needed. Be smart about it. I know most are beyond weary. I understand. The vulnerable remain vulnerable, though. Sure, that’s their problem, right? Uh, huh. Sure.

Wait, the cats are clamoring for re-entry. Yep, the clouds came through. Light rain falls.

Here’s the tune. Enjoy. Cheers

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