Tag Archives: Art

My Campfire – The Fire Within

I don’t remember where I heard this expression.  Or perhaps I never did.  It may have sprung into the recesses of my mind.  From a dream.  A whisper from the wind.  An echo from the stars.  But I use it sparingly.  With depth of heart.  For it holds several meanings to me.

“You’re always welcome at my campfire.”

***

Continue reading My Campfire – The Fire Within

Compulsion to Flee – Part 3 – Modernity and Hermitism?

I’ve been writing about that urge to roam.  To travel freely.  Unencumbered.  To experience the world through the lens of constant motion.

My first post in this series introduced the terms “Dromomania” and “Drapetomania,” which placed this desire squarely in the medical model for disease.  The word “disease” itself has been defined as: “a condition of the living animal or plant body, or of one of its parts, that impairs normal functioning and is typically manifested by distinguishing signs and symptoms” that is “not simply a direct result of physical injury.”  A disease has also been said to be “a particular quality, habit, or disposition regarded as adversely affecting a person or group of people.”*

And there are four main types of disease: infectious, deficiency, hereditary, and physiological diseases. Diseases can be communicable or non-communicable, and when we have absolutely no idea what causes one, we call it “idiopathic.”

And let’s not forget mental or psychogenic diseases.

In fact, the suffix “mania,” in dromomania and drapetomania, arguably places the old terminology squarely in that category of mental illness.

So, is the compulsion to flee, to explore, to wander the world, a mental disorder?  And what are those so-afflicted fleeing from?

Continue reading Compulsion to Flee – Part 3 – Modernity and Hermitism?

Sunka Wakam

Horses - 1-14-18 + Quote

Indeed, this is a holy spirit.

Many thanks to my blogging friend Supernatural Hippy who turned me on to a book where I found this quote.  You ought to check out her page.

In Metta

Photo:  My daughter runs her own business boarding horses.  A fine couple of renters from the winter months 🙂

New Day

Storms don’t exactly sneak up on you in the Midwest.  Unless you’re sleeping.

They hem and haw.  Fronts drift in.  Stagnate.  Advance.  Stall.  Pick up again.  Sort of unfold in slow-mo.

Certainly not like the Thunder Boomers out West.

Although we do get that occasional freight train.  Those tornadic, counter-clockwise winds that sweep in so fast no one can prepare.   In fact, if you witness them, it is sort of hypnotizing.  Like a snake hypnotizes its prey.

For the average storm here, the wind picks up, the temperature drops, and sometimes, you can see that clearly demarcated line of clouds advancing.  That gray-blue, dark-clouded front-line meeting clear, blue sky, perhaps with its wisps of white cirrus clouds.  But it’s when the temperature drops that you really know it’s about to hit.

Along with that unmistakable fragrance that suddenly permeates the atmosphere.

Continue reading New Day

When Mountains Dance on Tiny Feet

I left you all at a juncture in my story “The Club 66.”  So, it’s time to circle back a little.  If you don’t remember, check out the last couple of paragraphs.

Disclaimer:  I don’t recommend that anyone participate in such a ceremony without proper guidance, intent, and knowledge.  Also, since we are all individuals, creatures with complex chemical-electrical systems, there is no way to predict how ingestion of any substance might affect someone.  To either their benefit or detriment.

Nor can I offer any guidance in how to interpret such an experience.  Words fall far short.

Continue reading When Mountains Dance on Tiny Feet

The Heart of Storytelling

I read a post a couple of days ago stating that the difference between humans and other animals was the ability of humans to tell stories.  And that this ability is what has led to discoveries, inventions (good and bad), art, poetry, war, etc.

Of course, I believe other species have their own way of telling stories. 🙂

Stories have been said to create a special niche where we love to reside.  Fictional worlds that fill our minds, the majority of the time for some of us, with a central plot-line of underlying “conflict.”  There are generally dark forces to overcome, battles to be won or lost, struggles that define the protagonists, to whom we relate ourselves.

It is us that mirrors back as being the heroine or hero.  Whether defeated or exalted.

Continue reading The Heart of Storytelling

Full Snow Moon

 Last night, I tried posting this pic from the WP app on my phone. I had a bit of trouble but I think it did finally come through and I hope you’ve liked it.

Took this one off the back porch with a 400mm zoom lens and cropped it to enlarge it more.

The phone app doesn’t allow you to post a feature pic, and now that I’m back on the lap top, I’m making a few edits. I’ve also tried WP’s new editor with this one. Can’t say that I like it.

Have a wonderful Sunday!

In Metta

Rotation

A number of things were swirling in my head as I woke from my slumbers.

For one, Kirk Douglas died yesterday.  And as I read off the list of his many accomplishments and movies I was reminded of the film “Lonely are the Brave.”  Now I saw this film a long time ago, loved it, and when I watched it oh so many years ago, I had no idea of the connection with Edward Abbey, whose work I’ve also come to thoroughly enjoy.

It’s strange how things can circle around in our lives.

Continue reading Rotation

The Darkness and the Light

Fear, desire.  Lightness and dark.  The polar opposites are said to be interrelated.

But that doesn’t seem to match our perceptions of reality.  I mean, do people fearing some awful event actually have a secret or subconscious desire for that event to happen?  Self-flagellation??

I’m not really sure.

There is a growing body of literature talking about our power to manifest the things we want in life.  And I’m not sure how much credence to put in that line of thought.  This mystical power if activated improperly, by a negative focus, would rain terror down upon us.  And that seems to negate the concept of free will, or our ability to say “no thanks.”  “I don’t wish to be struck by lightning.”

Continue reading The Darkness and the Light

Gray Days Revisited

Gray Days Revisited

I think I’m going to start a new tradition on Word Press.

It’s obviously the beginning of November and this is the time of year when those of us who live in areas with decreasing sunshine are afflicted with Seasonal Affective Disorder.  “SAD” – what a cute acronym.

SAD has become more of an issue for me after my days spent in Arizona where there seemed to be an unlimited supply of Sunshine – even during the monsoon season.

Well, I wrote a piece about these “Gray Days” a while back, and I re-posted it last year, and so now the tradition has solidified.  This time, I’ll just put the link below (and above) as opposed to re-posting the blog.  If you have the desire to read further, click away.

If not, well you’re missing out 🙂

It crossed my mind, when I re-read my post today, that I was in a highly creative state of mind when I originally wrote it, as well as the posts surrounding that time in general.  You see, I was in love then, and the creative juices always flow more when I’m in love.

I might have been in love with a person, a place, or even a passing idea – a newly formed and beautiful image in my mind.  A dream.

But love, regardless of its source, is all powerful.  And while it’s difficult, we writers do try to express such feelings with words.

I read a great post from my blogging friend Cristian Mahai today that began with a beautiful quote from Faulkner.  Check it out for a little inspiration about the writer’s duty and about beauty.  I think this fulfills my duty for the day.  And read on, if you wish, about how even the grayest of days can be colorful and inspiring!

Here’s the link, again, to – Gray Days.

In Metta

LOGOz

Photo:  Even the most gray, rainy, and cold days can be very beautiful – like this image I captured in the Rocky Mountains.