Where does your passion come from and where does it go?

This post is about creativity-where does the initial spark begin? Did you have a specific artist or painting that inspired you to start painting? For me, I've been creative in some form or another for as long as I can remember and not being creative would be like not being myself. To me it's how you approach problems and how you see life.

I remember not being able to draw well at all-my brother at a very young age was able to draw dinosaurs so much better and I aspired to draw as well. So as I got older and nature became a major inspiration and a constant impetus for my creative process. As I got older I was always either photographing or painting, for years I would go for six months of doing each until the eye changed from photographic to painting oriented and back. During this time the writing was always a staple, whether it was short stories or poetry.

During certain periods in my life I have lost all contact with painting and creativity and it was isolated to just the writing which never stops its seems, I say that thankfully. I believe these points of valleys in the creative process were just learning points where I was gathering all the things I had learned in the previous creative sessions. So this answers the question of where does the passion go. We get lost in our lives and often as much as we'd like it to be, creativity can not be a priority as our family and duties in life pull too strong for us to maintain this secondary life of the creative.

We must remain in essence young, retaining a portion of our inner child to maintain the process that is creativity. I believe getting older often is a weight that crushes the inner child, between rejection, self doubt and the loss of time to stop and notice things the eyes of the creative can easily become jaded and the act of being creative turns into a pointless endeavor. The logical side of the adult is more aware and concerned about daily duties and staying busy-the creative must maintain the view of a child and protect the fact that it is not a option to be creative but an integral part of one's being.

Turn off the radio, TV, read about things that inspire you, collect things that are interesting and never stop trying to see things from the innocents and open eyes of a child. We may, as artists, be able to submerge our integral creative spirit beneath the logic and chaos of our lives but believe me there are consequences. The day you look at a sunset and realize it does nothing for you, or listen to an amazing bit of music and it is just sound-you know you've strayed too long. So be creative, realize it is almost important as the job you keep or the daily duties you perform.

Do you agree with my premise? How do you keep your creative spark alive and have you ever lost it for any amount of time? Comments welcome-thanks for reading.

So Where Do We Stand....Definitely not United

So where do we stand in this economy, in this country, for religion, racism and just life in general? I believe we have developed more ways to communicate and with that ease of communication we have stopped communicating. I watch people in a local coffee shop and we are all sequestered to ourselves, whether it be we don't trust or we're waiting to be sold to or hit on-we protect ourselves adn we have lost our availability to communicate. I would say we've lost the need if it wasn't for the fact that when you get a conversation started with someone I think we all want to reach out and communicate, most of us either don't know how or are afraid to start something we are not interested or don't think we are interested in.

I think at the core of our lack of communication is the fact that we work very hard to keep our houses and our cars, all the things we think we need. Not to say if you want an expensive toy you shouldn't if you can afford it, it's just that we have to work hard to support what we have bought or borrowed on credit. I also think there is so much stress that none of us are able to react to, but it's always there hanging over us like the economy that has been failing for how many years now? We are always on the edge of a disaster which I will get to the culprits of this chicken little syndrome in a moment but for this point, I think we are all underneath a great weight that tends to just sit there and we are expected to keep our heads up and keep doing what we have always been doing when this great disaster is just a job loss away and the impending doom of failing health and a crumbling economy is always just sitting there staring at us. What do we want to do outside of our work-we tend to want to escape to our homes, our families, we can barely communicate with the people we know with the stress we carry so never mind getting social with the community.

I drove through the suburbs yesterday and there is no one living in these empty houses or that's the way it seems. There are cars in the driveway, that is the only proof that anyone lives in these houses. Maybe there are cliques that the people stay with, only their immediate family and friends so there is no time or need to reach out to other people or friends. In the city, I noticed there are more people out and around, perhaps because they are younger and less jaded or just have less on their plate. I remember when my exwife and I bought our first home and instead of us running around enjoying the outdoor stuff, there was always something to do around the house. This brings me back the fact that we are so busy in our lives and detached from people which I feel we really crave to be spoken to or communicated with. I believe there are many of us that feel they are outcast from this society and you can see on many occasions they strike against the very society they feel has made them an outcast, which brings me to the next hypocrisy that is rampant and brings me closer to one of the culprits in the failing of our society and community.

We talk so much about bullying, everyone is against bullying and we all need to do something about bullying but the very same people that are crying about bullying are the ones that bully more than anyone. The political correctness that is rampant stems from what I feel is a guilt in our society, we aren't getting nicer, we are getting more nasty and vicious to eachother. Another thing about bullying, it is not a new thing by any means and what used to be a motivation to improve ourselves or protect ourselves has turned into a means to be victimized. I'm not saying that bullies are helpful in our development it is just something that has been around since the very beginning of our society and it will never end, it's just the way we don't teach our children to deal with this bullying, I would think anyone that has gone to school has been bullied in one way or another and we reacted in various ways. Another aspect of the bullying-thr that someone might lose. e bullying that used to occur seems nothing like the vicious and dangerous bullying that occurs these days. I believe that we are suppressing our boys and girls, all aggression is deemed unnatural when aggression is completely natural, it should be used in the right direction, in sports where we dare let our children compete with the danger that someone might have to actually lose.

We have decided that there is one sex, boys and girls are the same which they are not, instead of celebrating the wonderful differences that are evident between boys and girls and between each of us, there is a definition of who or what we need to be and how we need to act and unfortunately we are suppressing the natural urges and emotions that we all feel and trying desperately to adapt everyone into a weak and pliable child that doesn't cause their teachers or families any problems. We have drugs for everything, we have to anesthesize our kids, calm them down, they have their folders signed for doing stupid things that kids do, they are chastised for acting out in anyway and we have to call it a disease or some disorder that we can treat. Granted, there are real disorders and ailments that need treating, I just think that we have put everyone that steps out of a calm uncomplicated place must be medicated and that's where I think we are wrong. Of course in the past we would be disciplined by our parents and often maybe more than we needed to but we knew there were consequences for our actions and we were not the ones in control, again there are parents that have destroyed that whole healthy concept of discipline- a spanking is not a beating but some parents have taken discipline to a sick and twisted place. So, the government and teachers step into our parenting and says we can't look wrong at our children and meanwhile our children realize there are no adults in charge of us and there are no consequences for our actions-we'll just call CPS.

So how have we come this far? I believe that we have lost our basic values for life and the idea of selflessness has given way to narcism, raising our children with the idea that everything is about them. Whatever happened to the old quote-think not of what your country can do for you, think what can you do for your country. We have been lead in a bad direction by the fact that common sense in raising children has been replaced by sociology and psychologists telling us how we should do and freeing us from any blame or guilt by generous portions of rationalization. Our complacency in our society has allowed the stage to be set by the media which pander to us, pull our strings to be afraid of certain aspects, they act like they are our parents and we are too stupid to know better and in actuality we have become the child lead by the media disregarding common sense and listening only for the processes that directly affects us. The next entity that has moved in to be the parenting role is the government who sees fit to explain what drink we should and shouldn't drink and how much of anything we should have. Our chains are pulled when they need us to react to something, their fingers point to the other side always playing the shell game with us while the money is already gone. And once they do what they knew they were going to do all along there is no word of any crisis until the next crisis they have to threaten us all with certain doom if we dare expect the to be responsible in the use of our money.

So where in all of this do we stand? I feel we should be Americans before we are races, sexes and our own specific causes. I think we need to avoid being victims so the lawyers have no one to pander to. No one says that the money they steal from the insurance company for the so called deserving victim with an amount that the person would never see in their lifetime, that great sum of money, most of it goes in the lawyers pocket and the rest of it we all feel as costs go up from everything from medical to car insurance-we all pay for it even though the one that hit the lottery by getting hurt feels they are entitled to however much money the lawyer can get them. I believe we as a nation can not stand divided, we need to come together as a nation, not a race, sexual orientation, democrat, republican-they have us right where they want us. The child that does not have the capability of fighting against a rampant government and a divisive media that work together to extort what they need from us, using fear, guilt, racism or whatever other tool they need to keep us divided and most of all complacent.

We need to be a nation again, we need to stop fighting among us and start becoming aware of the similarities we have among us and start running the government instead of letting them run us. We need to stop listening to the media that uses propaganda to separate us and control our actions. We are a nation of hard working individuals that all love the idea of  succeeding in whatever success that deems appropriate for each individual. We need to stop using the word deserve, stop being victims and start earning back our country. The government has done so many bad things to our families and our childrens' children, they have stolen futures and the money we have entrusted them with has been stolen, it is our time to get our country and our government back to by the people and for the people.
Its time to stand united because divide we will definitely fall......We need to come together as Americans with common interests and needs and stop letting outside entities divide us for their own gain. Forgive me for a long. long blog but I want to live in America not a divided mess that this country is becoming.

I was just going through old stuff, getting the spring cleaning itch I guess and I discovered an old box of treasured keepsakes. The contents of the box was a sales associate tag from a first job, letters from close friends and matches from various bars. I don't like the fact that at one point this collection meant so much to me but now its nothing more than garbage only escaping the trash because it had been hidden under debris for so long. Here is my dilemma, when in life do collections of things lose their worth? For me, I believe its the dreams and aspirations that mean much to the younger person but as we get older other more important tangible aspects of our lives push the urge to collect the trivial things in our lives to small boxes we lose or tuck away.

I want to collect things again, things about now, about the places I go and the people and things I see. I think as children we are so excited about life and possibilities and experiences we tend to collect remnants, keeping a piece of our memories that we can go to again and relive. I used to photograph everything, I have photo albums filled with pix of my life from when I was ten to probably my early thirties. We shoot pictures, collect things, we are excited about our lives and the possibilities and somewhere along the line we lose that desire to maintain keepsakes. Time and people pass through so quickly and we don't have a chance to stop and capture moments never mind trinkets.

I think my turning point was the end of my marriage. I look at a garage almost like a beach where all the belongings of your life wash ashore. All of the objects in your life seem familiar but they tend to blend in with the dust and the memory becomes so obscure you lose the need to maintain your collection. Another aspect of your belongings is the move from one life to another, you tend to see your
collectables as more weight that you have to carry and less like the fond memory. Boxes of stuff flood into the garage, whatever you can carry gets gathered into your vehicle and by the time you get to the next destination all you know is the objects of memory are just clutter in your life.

So now I am in the process of cleaning the slate, discarding remnants of my life that don't lend themselves to my future. I want to start collecting small objects, I have seen artists that tack things up in their studio and my studio is filled with notes and unfinished works. I don't collect tactile stuff, stuff to inspire me to write or paint and I think I am missing a great aspect of the artistic experience. I know when the child becomes the adult, we lose much of what was important, much of what made us children we stop wasting time and interest for. Although I realize that every part in our lives, we gain and lose stuff, I feel the artist and the poet must keep the child that sees things as only a child can see alive somewhere. Something breaks in us, some piece of us that finds joy in insignificant things but I do believe this is where the artist lives and those pieces of youth must be preserved.

I have taken the artist way class and I know much of what the course is about is getting back to ourselves, getting to know ourselves again, I am eager to get back to the eye of an artist that is excited about sunsets and nature, the collector, the child that was passionate about life. I plan on starting a box today, I can hardly wait to see what piece of my life is the first to find its way into my box of treasures-I plan on keeping it small and simple so it never becomes the weight I can't carry but important and of substance that it doesn't get lost in the debris and thrown away during another one of my spring cleaning jags.

So what would you keep in a box of memories? What do you collect? What objects would fill your box and why? Would love if even just the followers might comment and explain their boxes that they would create.

For the Funeral Order the black cars The host lies in state Order the flowers He’s awake The vantage point From the ceiling The smell of sadness like a flavor The empty shadowed room No voices could fill anything but the sound In the empty spaces in the walls Morning falls Like a weight on shoulders broken and spent Wondering where hours went The waiting-the glass suspended on the edge of the table Clumsy fingers of children Hushed parental cues The vantage point around the fireplace Watching the dressing room Finished getting ready The widow puts her makeup on Black is the color of daylight Shines through the window Like a sickness I don’t understand the words you speak The priest Smiles Ensures peace And silently Walks in the room The director slinks out like a serpent A sad reckless play-where no one will remark On the substance or how well the lines were delivered The host is sainted No one asks the question Where No one would dare Order the room The cash bleeding out of the home Read the will Get your fill of the darkness As it leaves With the mourners And left alone, we are fragile China In the kitchen We are broken dirty dishes In the sink A final drink before sleeping We are awake We are staring at the ceiling And the host lies in the ground No sounds Only an empty shell Even now winding down The slow earth, the careful shovel The indifferent ground Staring at the ceiling the widow cries And a hand from the ceiling a bleeding sky Touches the face With the spring breeze It’s only epitaph Remember me………

Awake: First of 2013

Awake

A vulture in circles in the sky

Across the hollow landscape

Cars pass by

The grey sky staring at us

From across the room

The time to decide

It’s coming soon

Awake

In the midst of another year

No sadness

No tears

Washed away like storms before

All pasts alive

No more

A blackbird in a dying field

The sun, a whisper in the sky

But why do I feel hope in a gray landscape

And why do I choose joy

At the end of a season

Maybe it’s the wisdom of age

Or the courage and excitement

To turn another page

Awake in this landscape

Blackbirds passing me by

All I have is worthless wealth

But a treasure of precious time…….

The Inspiration

Twisting in the frame

The resemblance of the face

The same

The portrait

No voice, no name

Only the paint that stains

Sad and beautiful gray

Out through the front door

Running

Hands reaching out across a hemisphere

Wide eyes, seeking

A point in the cueless sky

No perspective no path to memorize

Only the gray scape

And the ideas we rationalize

Often pointless

They stream through us

A voice

I feel like a puppet

I dance only with a voice

From some unseen source

Atoms pulling and pushing

Dying

Radiation in the garden

As the sunlight moves across a barren sky

I don’t even need to ask you why

I’ve given up all my secrets

Now all I have is time

For you to decipher the riddle

The common thread that speaks in words

Voices no one has ever heard

Keeps us dangling like puppets

Across the sky

I stopped asking why

All I have is precious time

For you to answer the riddle

That hangs dangling above our eyes…….

 Untitled

Love that amazing element

That no chart could contain

It grows in me and moves me

Everyday

I am a river under the ice

I am a river seeking the oceans peaceful tide

I don’t know these words

You speak and I answer with black etchings on a screen

I won’t go back

I just trust you to keep me making some sort of sense

When I can’t comprehend or memorize

Anything I ‘ve said

The organic feeling of love

Like leaves in a dying garden

I’m clinging to the branch

Found my place high in the tree

And only now realize

The distance between me

And the garden

I will one day lie and be

Nothing but this rotting leaf

That gives up all

So beautifully

I have words like leaves

They stream wildly

Like colors in fall

I can’t imagine taming

Or deciphering them all

They just stream through my mind

And I can’t even imagine

I can’t open my mouth to say

Any words

Of any kind of leverage

They don’t come out that way

Stumble upon reason

Stumble upon a sentence, a rhyme

You speak

And I listen

I don’t need to make sense

It’s the distance between each word

And the reason that dangles

About

I try to question the flowing stream

It goes around me

Flowing fast and violently

Keeps me from catching up

It only runs through ruins of all

Our giant plans

We’ve made

You speak

And I listen

It doesn’t need to make sense

And when you leave my mouth

And my hands will freeze

I will stand in a field in the middle of a field

In the  rain, begging please

As all the blackbirds make their shadows on the ruin

Of me

And I will give up all that I was to you

So beautifully……

The Muse

 So explain to me, where do these images and words come from

And explain to me where they go

Like water out of the sky

The form

The solid, the gas

Out across this mindscape

Thoughts and ideas furious

Like the white blood cell attacks the disease

This foreign body ejected

Streaming across

Often without reason

But continuous the flow

Until there’s nowhere else for it to go

Locked in metal boxes

Have I been a bad steward of all these ideas

Has time been a stumbling block

Or age

With wisdoms absent

Seeking the child that would place the puzzles

Where they belong

Was I right or wrong

No one answers

 A dark room where music plays in the background

The answer to all of our thoughts

Dangles in the sky

Where the light breaks the edge of darkness

We stare blind

Into space

Seeking all those tiny stars

That put us in our place

How small we are

How infinitesimal our tiny spaces seem

Waking out of this coma

This grand play

That never knows its cue

Only that I listen to you and you speak

Through me

Quietly

A voice, that a child could only decipher

Empties the thoughts of oceans

In a grand rain barrel that would explain

How we all feel the same

How we all stare out to sea

How we all look up to the sky

Searching for you, for me……

1-3-13

Locusts

Don’t be afraid of the locusts

But know they’re coming

Don’t be afraid

We’ll steer you in the right direction

In time

We’ll protect you from them coming

The corn is bursting in fields

And we will wait for summer harvest

They’re coming

Don’t be alarmed until we let you know

And than we’ll make you go

Away from that safe place

The corn rising in the fields

We’ll tell you how to see

And how to feel

When it’s time

But know they’re coming

We will facilitate

Evacuate

Mandate everything you’ll need to know

We have channels where you’ll listen to our words

We’ll comfort you

We’ll keep you warned

We’ll keep you updated daily

On their progress

Though you’ll never see a wing

We’ll protect your children

From everything

We’ll show you who is the enemy

We’ll create the image

We’ll advertise

And fill your dreams with dread

We’ll make you question

Starvation and the impending death

They’re coming

Most of the corn is already ready for harvest

We’ll keep them safe

We’ll spread them around

We’ll keep you feed

We’ll clear the clouds above your head

Buildings in the city coming down

Empty storefronts crumble to the ground

But don’t move

And don’t make a sound

We’ll tell you when it’s time to be alarmed

You won’t be harmed

We promise

We’ll herd you to where it’s safe

We’ll keep you feed

We’ll save face

The dying cattle

We’ve hauled them away

Nothing to worry about today

Until we tell you it’s time

The corn burned in the evening

You never smelled a thing

They’ve come and devoured

Everything

We kept you safe

We’ll spread what’s left

To who deserves the most

We will keep you bound

To that post

So we’ll rebuild

And we will conquer all of this fear

All the hunger

Rest assured

We’ve reached the deepest hole

We will need from you

All that’s left

We will keep control

We will keep you calm

We will keep you never feeling the pain

Of convulsing

Starving

As all of you do

We will spread what’s left

It’s what we do

When all the harvest disappears and next years’

Seems to be half as much

We will warn you of the locusts

The beasts you feared so much

And we will feed upon your corpses

And lay you all in the ground

In a small box

In that tiny dusty town

Where storefronts fall to the ground

No food, no belongings

Only the starving, with hands held out

And we on evil wings

Will persevere

On to the next small town

Or small city

Where we’ll devour

All the summer harvest

Before it comes to be true

And when you try to warn them

They won’t believe you…..

We are locusts

It’s what we’ve done

It’s what we do……..

The Unspoken Page-Nature, art, life, death, politics, religion: Funeral for a Celebrity

The Unspoken Page-Nature, art, life, death, politics, religion: Funeral for a Celebrity: The body in the standard layout, the same state, the same ritual,  a line of cars, the press were pallbearers taking pieces of t...