Sunrise Bread Company, Titusville FL

Sitting doing a little work at Sunrise.

Sitting doing a little work at Sunrise.

I ride down to Sunrise Bread in the morning when I don’t have to be anywhere early. I take Scarlette to school at 7:15, and then come back, change my clothes, grab my backpack, and jump on the bike. I ride down past the marina, and gaze out at the yachts, some of them from Europe or even further, and imagine life like that. I then pass along the Indian River, and come back to US1, and finally to Sunrise.

I spend an hour or three writing, replying to email, or whatever is on my to-do-list for the day.
I drink coffee, and sometimes eat a bagel. It reminds me of when I would do the same thing at Fresh-cup coffee shop in Warren…. I like the routine of breaking the routine once in a while, and going to sit with my computer, listen to music, and actually get something done too.

-Ezra

What stories are hidden here?

These two boxes are my haul for today, they have memories inside their corroded lids, they were once prized repositories of family history, but I found them dusty and forgotten on a thrift store shelf.

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Winsor & Newton Bijou Box: My Review After 6 Years Of Ownership

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The Winsor And Newton Bijou box is an exquisite objet d’art, I find pleasure in simply owning this little jewel of a watercolor set. It is made by a UK art supply company and is rather hard to obtain in the USA, so i had this one shipped from London many years ago. If comes with 8, colors of artist grade watercolors. (It is important to note that the pigments in the artist grade line -as opposed to the student grade paints, are vibrant and burst with color)
This is a simple object, it is an enameled metal box will space for 12, 1/2pans of watercolor paint, and a tiny, tiny brush. Thats it. It has no buttons, no lights, and takes no batteries. It’s design hasn’t really changed much in decades, (other than the lid which seems to have only 2 mixing areas now, as opposed to the 4 areas that mine has) the design is perfect as it is, there is no ned to change it. I love this little box.
There is a thumb ring that folds out on the bottom, so you can use it as a tiny little pallet, it has a lid that you mix your paint in, and a very small brush, (which I don’t use much since I use a waterbrush) this is good design and a mature object. There is no where else to go with this design, it is perfect, perfect, perfect.

I love to use it in conjunction with a watercolor Moleskine, and a waterbrush, this is the art trifecta. A perfect set for creativity and inspiration. This is one of those items that I would replace without question if it was ever lost or broken.

-Ezra

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The Void

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There is that which can not be understood; a sharply defined realm of the unknown, our minds touch upon this secret only fleetingly. In a moment of self reflection and lucidity, there can only be silence of the soul. When the mind is free from any shadows of fear or lingering nightmare; then and only then can this be explored.

The key turns slowly in the lock.

The gate slides open to frigid darkness and vibrant color; pigments of very thought. My heart leaps in my throat choking away the consciousness. With timid, and faltering steps I cross the threshold to enter the silent chamber. Give me a way to capture this essence of life and return it to this world of horror and shame.

I shall shiver away the curtain of darkness that enshrouds our world, I will copy the keys and give them to all the gatekeepers and charge them to let all pass who desire entrance. When the last of our mindless shades have passed forever from the torrid darkness and into the color of thought; the gates will be shut fast, and the keys all melted down to nothing, and this realm returned to desolation with only myself: a lone sacrifice.

Guarding the void from habitation.

-Ezra Hilyer-

The Writer Who Does Not Write

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I am the Writer who does not write, and the poet with few poems.

I see myself as a writer; it is my self identity. When I imagine myself in my minds-eye, I am personified as a writer, I see the future in the context of writing, and I fully expect to write, yet the time goes by and I do not.

I relate to the world as a writer, I refer to myself as a writer… Yet I do not write. Oh sure, I pen a few sentences once in a while, and often I will dive whole-heartedly back into a novel or article I have been writing for a while, but in the long run, I haven’t really written all that much. A few short stories, thirty or so poems, and five or six novels in various stages of completion… Pitiful I think.

Though I know this; it seems that the pressing moments of my life take precedence over that which I really desire to do. Yes, that desire is to write.

So I come to the crux of the issue: I must simply steal the time to write from other interests. I must be a miser when it comes to my free time, and devote myself to the task as though I were a monk in meditation.

I know that to resolve to do this is no small thing, and would be easy to just forget and eventually just lose interest completely. Yet, if I do, I shall live my life in regret. I am now 33, and have intended, and longed to write for a full 15 years, what others have accomplished in less time leaves me to shame.

-Ezra