Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Keeper of Truths

In the essence of keeping it real. In the realm of somewhat coherent thought. As I sit sipping a hot cup o'joe, reveling in the wonder of pink, thick clouds against a baby blue hue, mixed with the gray of the night. More apparent comes a meandering of complacency and time.
Time, the keeper of truths, of lies, of all the indifferences.
It just remains. It does not cease even as our little bubbles shatter.
Time is the messenger, and yet no one really listens. Taking heed the moments of where one is at the moment. Or of who it affects or why.
Wrapped in our own coccoons, oblivious the essence of that time, the treasure given.
Just seeking to fill it more. Without fully....truly relishing as it ticks...


And indignent when the time passes, and taken away.

No one may know all the secrets that lie within...that explain the path. THe reasons of current indescretions or advocacy of truth...
Except time.

Not only a measurement of the abstract of existence. Yet a measurement of who we are.

Putting into that time, is ll that is deservedly given back. Reflected back.
Ownership of our time, is solely the responsibility of the self. Making an excuse for faulting our own coping, blaming all but what is within.

No lecture. No sermon. No preaching.

One knows.
One accepts.

Time is the keeper.

The flowers shall wilt, the birds will fly off and the moments slip.

DO what you will.

For it is all we truly possess. And that which possesses us.

"Everything comes to pass. Nothing comes to stay." ~Matthew Flickstein

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*Artwork by Invisiblesuitcase
Originally written November 2007 Relevancy remains, different reasons

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posted by Jod{i} at 1/21/2014 03:00:00 AM, | What say You?0 comments
Tuesday, November 12, 2013

A view from Inside

For me is capturing the never ending dialogue that runs through my head. Since I was a wee child, I have had an imagination that was beyond my years. I knew this.
I would read. I would write. I would read, I would write. Oh heaven help me when I received my first typewriter(yes first, as in there was a second and a third).
I wrote my first “script” when I was ten years old.
I knew then what I wanted to accomplish with my life. I hope you noted, the word there, “accomplish”, not “do” with my life.
There is a difference.
And I recently, within the last five-ish years, I came to this epiphany.
Without getting long winded, I came to realization that the reasons I write, are not my own. And what we choose to do with the words, are our own, as well.
Writing, for me, is more than doing. It’s there all the  all the time. Gnawing sometimes clawing at the gray matter. How I choose to express these voices, is multi faceted. At times these different avenues of prose, are all intertwined. Telling their story.
Seeking to be heard. At times, once told they go away, never to be heard from again. Other times, they crave to be heard. To be finished.
Whether it is an expression of emotion or thought through poetry/prose- it is all part of the process.
Never ending.
Everyday, I write. Sometimes it may have nothing to do with the story I am currently battling in my head, most days, its all the story.
I never had a solid goal that my name had to be in the spotlight. The goal was and is, accomplishing a piece of work that holds merit.
The path isn’t always a clear path, and the obstacles can be massive. Clouded with negativity. The key is use that negativity to ones advantage. Tot ake what truths they posess and use it.
There are many negative people out there. Many who have forgotten they worked hard to get where they are today. There are many who like to pontificate they are the ones who know all, like oz behind the curtain. They are quick to catch, they are. The best writers, advice givers, are real. They give solid advice. Sound advice. And many give the same advice over and over. Why?
It holds truth.
These are people you need to listen to, to read, and most importantly, LISTEN. I know I said it already, but truly to be a writer, and to surround yourself with those generous enough to give you a helping hand, especially those who are honest about their path? LISTEN to them.
If you want to accomplish something, then be the writer, who enjoys their craft. Want to learn. Is willing to put that ego aside and make the changes.

Do I have some good stories. Yep.  And the first one? Is the baby, the story that led you done this path.
It will probably go nowhere. as it sits, and  on some days stares at me from behind the glass bookcase. Stares meander into glares and then it quietly goes back to sleep.
It’s ok. Doesn’t mean you can not write.  Means the story was told, and there it sits, and its done.
Let it go. Move on, try again. And again, times a gazillion.
I have read many scripts, for SPEC-newbies. I learned so much from the process and learned to have a different eye, a perspective I didn’t have as I was to attached to my own words.
I am a nobody and I am comfortable with this, I am not striving out there to push it all along to be the next big thing. Nope. 
For me its about learning and improving and if something were to come along? I make those decisions as I go.
I am a creative soul, with a flood of material, its wht I want to put into it.. I am doing my thing.
I write, I write daily.
Its putting my voice out there, and to be part of thi awesome collective of people.
The point? Don’t give up what you strive for in your world. Do it right. Listen to those who hold the knowledge, and if you do so, you may find you’ve created something worth putting out there.

Onward and yes I #amwriting.


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posted by Jod{i} at 11/12/2013 09:57:00 AM, | What say You?0 comments
Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Paying it Forward

News: Over at my Messages blog, I have redesigned and I am making this my writing prose/poem and ARTWORK blog.
Today, I started a *sale* of my artwork running from today(Wednesday Oct 9th) until Friday Oct 11th.
For the price of a DONATION to causes that are near and dear to me. There are many causes, that are near and dear, and it was hard to choose. Details are at Messages.
So far, I have *sold* six paintings. For  are grand total of 400 dollars. Makes me happy that people are buying the Artwork, which will now have more meaning, than just me pushing paint.

People have inquired, Why are you donating, the the profits? You are unemployed.
Yes. Yes I am.

Paying it Forward dear friend.
I am of the belief, as it has been proven to me, first hand that when you give, you will receive.
I am not an overly religious person. Not in the least.
Yet I have a belief in people. In the good that resides in all of us. It's there.
Sometimes we have to give something to get something, and to thus give it back again.
I was brought up in a home and in a family, that you "do good for the right reasons. And with no agenda, and for no celebrity"
Its just right.
Yep, I was let go of my job of 12 years. A bittersweet moment. Anger at first, and then, then something came over me. A sense of gratitude. For all I have and for all I do not have, the do not haves are usually unimportant extras in this world. Items people use to qualify and quantify their existence.
And I am grateful for that which I do have in this world. I have been "lucky" to have a good support system, to have those people in my life who boost ya up when needed and give a swift kick in the ass, as necessary, when the pity party has run its course.
My art is a part of me. Its not terribly awe inspiring in my eye, yet if I can give that part of me and give back to those who truly need... then it is all good.
As it should.

Carry on,

posted by Jod{i} at 10/09/2013 02:38:00 PM, | What say You?0 comments
Friday, September 13, 2013

Looking for Shadows...

We spend an awful lot of time seeking out what isn't there. What will never be there. Checking, rechecking a constant reassurance there isn't any goblins hiding away. Just waiting to snatch our soul.
Shadows creep. They crawl. For some, they slither.
When the night comes, the shadows are more ominous. This mystery of what it is that sinks inside you. That dwells where none should truly be...And there it sits.

Years and years of looking behind every wall, in every corner and even "under the bed".
Seeking out what is not there.
Too many of us don't look beyond. TO the obvious.
that would be just too easy. And less dramatic as well.

Stop looking where that perception of fear lies...And just look out in front.

Visible reality. You know something is true when there is a shadow.
Even in death, there is still remains a shadow.
Envisioning evil dwellings inside the gray matter. Ritual dances of 'lore.
Searching and finding that which holds no value. Images filled with negativity.
They aren't creeping up on you. They creep with you.
Sometimes standing so close, the stench of a breath would sicken the hardest. Staring you down.
Look at me! Look at me! I am right here you fool!

Dance with them!

Shadows are not cowards. They do not hide.
When one no longer sees a shadow, it is just that much closer to you, you can't see it.

Yet you feel it.
That uneasiness. The discomfort of what is wrong.

Looking for that answer in nooks and the crevices. Like a moth to light, gravitating to...

It is not there, my friend.
the quest to place a name on all that crawls inside, to assign blame and to embrace validation that your mind sees those shadows.
Wasting time.
What is done is done, who did and why is irrelevant to a solution.
Move on...
We spend too many precious hours(hours!) attempting to be heard on who is at fault, and the retribution of brimstone.

Acknowledge is the true.
Just to have the acknowledgement. To hear the words, "I hear you"... And no more.
Giving permission with this simple statement, permission to move forward. No longer stuck in a quagmire of solitude and desperate desire to be vindicated.

Shivering in this perspective.
The skew of inner depth perception.
Impending doom.
Of what hides.

Hides in the shadows.

*Artwork by Cu5

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posted by Jod{i} at 9/13/2013 08:46:00 PM, | What say You?0 comments
Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Twelve Years later, and the pain remains

A day that holds a sacred piece of each of us.
A day where we had this moment, albeit painful, of feeling as one with our neighbor.
Or the stranger we would've outwardly ignore as we pass them by in a store.

Whether you were directly affected by the events, or indirectly as being a human being on this planet.

The day is  revered as a one of THE most surreal days of human existence.

In speaking with anyone about September 11, 2001, whatever their situation at that moment, there is a commonality amongst them all.
The pain.
The fear.
The sense of being a part of something so much larger than we could have ever imagined.

We started our day as most Americans do, moving through our morning to get to the end of our day.
At times mindless and rote.

And all of that was to change, forever.

In the years that have passed, I have taken on a reflection of this day. Not of just 'who' I am, yet 'who' WE all are in this world.
Articles have been written, documentaries have been shown, songs written.

We lost something that day.

There was an innocence that tumbled down with those walls.

I have many personal recollections of that morning. The one overwhelming, that continues to be with me to this very day, is "all the people".

It's not a feeling that ever leaves you.

The images never erased.

I look back today, and it is still there. I could never even imagine, those who were there. And the events that unfolded. Through reports, through documentaries, we hear the stories, and the pain inside deepens.

The drive home was long, and quiet.
Unusual for a busy highway system. The world had appeared to stop, and yet we kept moving through it.

Imagine if we could carry that feeling, the one of unity. Without all of personal bias' .  Without all the minutia that invades our daily dialogue.
Imagine what we could be as a society.

Twelve years later, and the remains of that day are still evident.

Etched within our psyche.


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posted by Jod{i} at 9/11/2013 09:09:00 AM, | What say You?0 comments
Monday, September 09, 2013

Attempting to process Syria...

There are no real answers. Which ever way we as a nation turn, we will come out with negativity somewhere. It's how we, as society, roll. In my observations of the past many many years, it has grown worse. We feel entitled, justified to judge. To jump to conclusions of what people are thinking without giving them due process to explain. Now, I will take full on admission, they aren't doing a very good job at 'splainin' here.
One, our window of opportunity has passed. Gone. POOF. Just like that...
Secondly, when officials make statements, they are making them to the world, not over coffee or a few brews with "the guys". a simple rule to follow in said situations?

Mind blowing isn't it?
What a concept. We as a society have indulged them and accepted this, and then we let the media interpret, and then jam it down our throats.
An we buy it.
Wake up people, Start using your gray matter. I know you can. I know you can think logically. I know you may be rusty at it, but hey its worth a try.

I am ambivalent about the whole controversy of Syria. It is, in my mind, one of these most difficult moral questions to answer.

Should we bomb a country, already in the middle of strife and warfare? With a great possibility of killing even more civilians?

Or do we, as a country, as a whole, let this moment pass?

I am not one to bang the drums of war. Far be it from me, to advocate for more killing. To have blood on our hands.

And in that is my own personal quandary of what should be done, what should have been done and where we go from this point.

If I HAD to call my Senator,and my representatives, I would tell them no. Right now, at this very moment, no.
A week ago? Two weeks ago? I would've said Bomb the crap out of them.

Just being honest. Yet I am consciously sitting here weighing all the options out. Knowing full well, I do not have all the details, nor will we, nor should we.

We waited too long.
As a behaviorist, when we introduce re-enforcers, to change a behavior we do them immediately. Not a week or two down the road. It doesn't equate. It doesn't make sense.
Maybe that is my first mistake, assuming there is logic here, somewhere.

I question why we wait.
I question why didn't we help or don't we help the people in the world who suffer DAILY, the atrocity of their governments?
Is chemical warfare just that evil? More evil than the bombs and bullets already raining down hour to hour on these same civilians?

The humanitarian in me, wants to save the word and live in a world that sees Peace, no more pain.

The realist in me, knows that will never happen.
Humans are not programmed that way. We just are not.

People need to LISTEN to what these leaders are truly saying. Stop listening to the pundits. What does YOUR mind, YOUR heart tell you?

WE, as a nation should shame the other nations. The UN? Useless.

Oh everyone is opposed to the use of chemical warfare, they all signed the document.

Yes? And?
What the hell is good is that worthless piece of paper, if WE as a GLOBAL COMMUNITY, do not stand for what is right in this world?

Now, I am not making the case for sending missiles into Syria. I truly am just muddling it all through this old noggin and trying to make sense of it.
And of all the times I do, I come out with the same answers.

The Global community. Funny set of words, I don't think many people really think of themselves as part of a GLOBAL community. Many people, think in today's terms. Where they stand today, now. That is, their community and if they don't see a threat? Then there is no threat. They can not reach beyond their own borders.
There are other avenues to go down in the process. Pressure on Syria's allies. Many who also signed against the use of chemicals.

Our window if opportunity has passed. Either way we go, we will come out not a victor. Although sometimes the  victor doesn't always come out on top when advocating the morality of people.

Would my opinion change if Assad was to be removed? It might. And more than likely it would not, as the options of who  then takes over is even a bigger quandary in the scope of this disaster.

My heart aches for the people. It does.
As does my heart aches for the people in my community.

We as a society, here can't even get our heads out of our asses to assist our own people.

What makes anyone think they will for people thousands of miles away?

So I have no answers. Only an opinion. One that is so wishy washy and to the brim with ambivalence.

However this shall go, and we know this already, we just don't want to say it out loud, the world will watch, the world shall judge and we will not be better off than we were. And neither will those people.


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posted by Jod{i} at 9/09/2013 09:56:00 AM, | What say You?0 comments

Excerpt from a new story, "No title as of yet"

"...always feeling detached. Not in the sense of mental stability, although I am sure there would plenty of people who would argue the validity of that statement. The adjectives, of odd, weird, strange,out there, come to mind, pick your words of poison.
    Detached in the sense of seeing life and the actions of others through a different lens than most people.

I am just as normal as the next..."


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posted by Jod{i} at 9/09/2013 09:24:00 AM, | What say You?0 comments
Thursday, September 05, 2013

Gray Matter Meanderings

The dawn of a new day. The air swirls with a freshness, deep, long breathes filled with capacity. A rush of air pushed from lungs. The smell of java and dirt mixed. Lost within images that just float.
In and out.
A sweet mixture of impending spring with the oldness of the past season.
Bittersweetness dips on my tongue.
Reflections of the life lived. Seasoned.
Filled with smiling, familiar faces.
So carefree. So Lost, yet in love with the thought.
Inhaling the stretch of Mother Earth's awakening. Longing for her to wrap her arms about us, tightly.
And never,
Let go.

Of a seasoned life.
Seeing. Feeling. All there was trapped within, for eternity.

The music of the day, awakened before the sun. Life outside, beckons for one to just run through the fields. Rejoicing in the moment of being here.
Sullen, today.
Life moves, it heaves. As trucks rumble on a distant highway ... going ...

Quietly meandering through the morn.
Cherishing it.
Upon entering a door, life engulfed, busy with routine, I bent to awake my mother.
Images, flashed before me. I hesitate, and halt all together. I stood over her, just to watch her sleep. To hear her breath. Lost within the memory of a child at five, playing with her mother's hair as she slept. A mother who carried all the beauty this child could ever want, and possess. The child watched her in awe.
That child stood above the mother this morn, still in awe.

Time has a new meaning as of late.
A sudden importance. The realizations of where I stand in relation to Father Time.
The path, as I gaze out along the muck, the cobblestone smoothed over the years, appears to move forward endlessly...reaching out to the ends of the earth.
It does not.
The horizon moves closer... sneaking and stealth.
I have become more aware, more than usual.
Not just of the minutes, the hours or the days. Not of just the time well spent, well wasted or just gone from the pages.
Or the evidence of time that gazes back from a reflection.

My surroundings.
The trees, the sound, the smell. The cracks in the sidewalk at my mother's home.
Images, again.
Children; laughing. Frolicking. Teenagers sitting, contemplating life, the future.
The future stares back now.
And then, as quick as it came, the images fades, blurs back to that woman, standing there, staring at the pavement.
Voices of a past life. Giggles. Tears. Shed here on this very spot.
Prom pictures, baptismals, weddings, graduations ...

A noise distracts me from these moments, calling me back to now.
From the window:
A child waving
A mother standing behind her, staring, through my very soul, as if she knew every thought I just relived...
Stare back in wonder .... Does she relive them too?
I smile, turn to leave, return to the clutter of life and stop again, to look back into her eyes ...
A slight smile to push the cheeks, stopping the tears ...

Still in awe... '143'

*Edit: A Quote I found in hindsight: "There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line. The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask 'why me?' and 'what if?', when you look back and see the branches, like a pruned bonsai tree, or a forked lightning. If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you, it would be someone else looking back, asking a different set of questions."- ????
posted by Jod{i} at 9/05/2013 09:57:00 AM, | What say You?22 comments