Writers advice

David Farland sends out a newsletter: Kick in the Pants. I copied and pasted this from his newsletter. I find it to be great advice as well as inspiring. “Among the Welsh, a poet was called a Maker. The idea was that with words he could create illusions that were so deep, so profound, that it was as if he were bringing his dreams to life. When a Maker describes a stream, you can hear the babbling of the brook as water goes rolling over stones. You can taste the mist rising from limpid pools on the back of your tongue, along with sunlight and autumn leaves. As you kneel to drink, water striders dart through your imagination.

When a Maker tells a tale, he doesn’t just explain what emotions a character feels. He’s not satisfied with just “showing” the emotion by describing it accurately. His goal is to make you experience the tale. His goal is to bring you into the tale so forcefully, that you live through it.”


I know I live in Vegas but

Okay, so admitting I live in Vegas aleady explains a lot but let me tell you a little bit of how my day went.
I’ll begin with the printer running out of ink so I drive off to the store. Nothing unusual about that untill I come home. The last week was extermly windy and the crystal candle holders blew off the ledge. I hadn’t noticed a crystal shattered until a sliver embedded itself into my foot. Pain anguish blood.
Took care of the foot & went to change the computer ink. Open the box someone took out half the ink replaced it with empties and glued up the box. Back to the store. Check the box before leaving all is good.
Driving home a pirate is standing on his front lawn pleasantly conversing with a neighbor. Now i’m used to seeing elvis but a pirate hat and all is unusual.
We won’t mention all the cars and motor bikes driving without lights at 8:30 at night or the right turns from left lanes. After the pirate I thought I was good for the day until the man in plaid bermuda shorts & cowboy boots was walking his freshly dyed pink dog in the parking lot.
I haven’t been drinking but I am thinking about it. Nah, just a typical day in Las Vegas.

Dancing the Bones of the Wind

She danced the way of the ancients
As they had before her
Would continue to dance after.
Still the movement continues undulating through her vibrant body resting momentarially
outstretched in a healing gesture.

What’s in a name?

Before I walked to the library i stopped at my neighbors house to get his card so I could get the book they have on hold for him. My neighbor is in a great deal of pain waiting for back surgery and does go out much these days.
I showed the librarian the card who told me were to find the book then informed me I would need his pin number to check it out. I called but no answer so I tried to check it out under my card but since it was reserved under his name they would not allow it. Too bad security isn’t this tight when someone is doing a mean or hurtful act.
As I walked back home I realized the librarian asked me for his last name. Now here we are neighbors for 3 months, ate BBQ together with friends a number of times but for the life of me I never heard nor thought to ask what his last name is.

Clouds in my Coffee

Wide awake at 2:37 AM it seemed like a great time to start work on a new drawing. I guess I was still a bit sleepy so I made a cup of instant coffee. Most likely you make better choices at that hour than me but the left cabinate was open and the stevia is all the way across the stove on the right. Well, you can’t drink black coffee at pre-dawn so I looked up an there on the top shelf towards the back was this bag of marshmellows my neighbor had given me the other night. It was one of those cold windy nights that you just wanted hot chocolate with marshmellows.
As often happens what I’m thinking in my head comes uncensored from my mouth. That’s how I happen to have little packages of hot chocolate and marshmellows.
Somehow as is often the case things take on a life of their own. My left hand was doing the thinking and action so before I knew it there sat a handful of clouds drifting through my coffee.



I have now slept in every room of my tiny apt. except for the bathroom.
It all begain with the bed in the dinning nook the the living room. This room has 2 sides so I slept in both. The night i was snuggled up to my knives was spent in the kitchen. Now the mattress is in the bedroom.
Why the moves? First I have a 6 month lease & can’t drive off so I have to change location as best I can.
Second which is really first the bedroom was my studio but the light was better in the living room. Basically I was dragging art supplies from the studio into the living area so I just gave up and reversed the room designations.
As too never sleeping in the bathroom i often brush my teeth with my dyes closed so if you count that I’ve slept everywhere. My lease has 2&3/4 months left who knows where I’ll rest my head next

Junk mail

I had time before my class started so I thought out of curiosity I would delete my junk mail. It proved to be very interesting. It seems somehow the advertising world has assumed I am a single Black Christian man in need of viagra with a desire to short sale my house. Oh yeah, also an assortment of dential advertisements. Perhaps I have bad teeth? Not to be too critical they did get one thing right I am single.

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