Je ne consomme pas, je crée. Je n’absorbe pas, je rayonner!
I do not consume, I create. I do not absorb, I radiate!
Tag: Musings
Moments To Reflect
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d, Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me, Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined, The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Ink Cuneiform
This is my Cuneiform Epitaph. Scratches on clay the remnants of lives, tiny sparks that winked brightly and then went out; time consuming the present moment by moment, Langoliers following closely behind, watching for scraps and pouncing on wasted time. When flesh grows cold, and entropy consumes blood, bones, and essence leaving nothing for the… Continue reading Ink Cuneiform
Ants On A Rock, Halfway Between The Atoms And The Stars.
I love looking down into a valley where I can see the curve of a river, or the shape of a town, and then compare that mental image to a map of the state or country to get an idea of my size relative to the earth, or the natural formations around me. This image… Continue reading Ants On A Rock, Halfway Between The Atoms And The Stars.
Self Identity
Identity “What do you do?” This is a question for which I have no answer. I get asked this often, and it is the prerennial american question, we are defined by what we do. We are our jobs. I don’t have an answer because I don’t get my identity from my job description, I don’t… Continue reading Self Identity
The Void
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… Continue reading The Void
Time Thief.
Darkness beneath the trees; twilight falls slowly down to the mossy leaf strewn earth, while I wait hidden between the dark void of the sky, and the sharp eyes of my pursuers, I keep my breath low and patient, my gaze even and wary. Time crawls across my rifle barrel and drips from my lips. It… Continue reading Time Thief.
Dreary Winter
Now in the midst of dreary winter, while the hills wear their white mantles, I sense a withering of will, and a drying up of muscle. When buds burst into leaves, I also break out in motion, powering against the rusted pedals, to rush down that path of leaves; rustling. . Wintry winds tear at… Continue reading Dreary Winter
Of Pens And The Subconscious.
Several years ago, I purchased a yellow Lamy Safari with an EF nib. I used it constantly, and carried it with me just about everywhere. I would fill out my paperwork at work with it, and use it on my Moleskine. In any case, it went missing last spring, and I had to switch to… Continue reading Of Pens And The Subconscious.
A Light
There is a light in your eyes; I can not explain its source. Perhaps you can; has there ever been a moment that held you in sway? When you scarce could bear to move lest you break the sweet spell of silence. What ever it was that triggered that spark of thought/feeling I do not… Continue reading A Light