Walking The Long Road

Silence in the Heart of the Night...

2009-03-20T23:52:00.000-05:00

When the silence takes you, deep in the heart of night, thoughts must answer the call unyielding in the wake of sleep. Dawn offers no respite. Indeed, the sunrise only signifies the wasted hours of reflection that did not even seem meditation. Even the wolf that had nipped at your heels retreats into the comfort of its den, longing for a deep of dark within you. The emptiness within, the echoes without, they distort the hope within such hours... they ignore what should be.

Would that I breathe you in, the cool night air refreshing me in your movements, even if it might be a waning dream of pasts of a future's eve. Would I might sense your heart open into a place unbroken, a world unimagined, sensations of realms within a new heart. A heart only seen in the attempt at understanding the nature of our souls, the joy of love within it. I can... could attempt, maybe even have attempted... and I think my life would not be a waste in such understanding.

You are the moment, wherever you may be in this life... the moment remembers... days, years... centuries hence. Your breath exhales the memory of a consciousness I might never see yet always knew existed. Wiping away the ache, the regret, and most of all, the fear...

It waits... barely out of reach, this gentleness of spirit awash in the truth of understanding, the truth in all of us. Tantalizing, tormenting, a reminder of our attempts at romantic and spiritual fulfillment. The true tree of knowledge of good and evil waits outstretched upon a shore we might be incapable of crossing, bearing the fruit of ultimate understanding. What must we leave behind... and what would we become in the process?

In the end, I have no answers, only the questions that punctuate the silence in the heart of night...

C.

Apologies...

2009-03-06T17:33:00.001-06:00

I suppose when you get older, you start to think about purpose in life. Well, we do when we are younger, sure, but I have started looking back more than forward, seeing what was lost, all that could have been gained, and the middle path: what actually happened.

It is tough to love someone and they do not choose you, or life inevitably chooses something/someone else for them. If you have ever had to deal with this, I am sure you understand. And it can be hard to forgive that love and harder still to be forgiven for loving, for only being human. In the end, one must forgive one's self for this purpose as well. I wrote the following piece some years ago, since edited it here and there (as I always do), but... it was a start down the road of forgiveness of self through the window of time, of course. I do not know how much further I have come since then, only that I am older and doubtless not that much wiser. Still, I like the poem mostly because it takes me on the journeys I have loved most in this life... and that is well, too.

'Apologies'

I walked the shores of midnight seas,
Reveled in days that did not end,
Wandering ancient forests,
Sleeping upon verdant fields
But a time, a soul would not wait,
And the longing could not fade.

Paths mattered little as I roamed
From city to town, hillside to beach,
Traversing storm-tossed crossings,
Metallic thunder racing the night
Yet a heart, a place could not wait,
And the yearning did not fade.

I sat watching the world amble onward,
Doing as it should to survive,
Embracing an enduring wonder,
Reaching for unbridled joy...
But the heart and mind cannot wait;
For hope eventually wastes away.

It was not my wish,
But what happened remains;
And longing for yearning toward hopes of love,
Must like all things...
Slip away.

C.

Purposes...

2009-03-02T15:30:00.002-06:00

So, a year older... I wish I could say wiser, but no... even more foolish than before.

I glance back to the past year of my life, and really, this month was the beginning of so much that I could not anticipate, nor wanted to, ignorant in my perceived bliss. While birthdays are anticipatory of the year ahead, they can be as much a reflection of days and years past. I realize the waste of my life in years past, maybe to an extent some of this past year... I know I have more or less wasted the past couple of months, adrift in melancholy at times, hiding it as best I can. I have done all I could to put my best foot forward, and it was never enough. I ran away, seeking the solace of the other side of the world, and yet... respite is only fleeting in the face of sorrow.

I confess my thoughts might be maudlin, even a bit piteous, but I would like to think I am entitled to them. Indeed, if you knew what I knew, what I have been told, what I have seen... you might understand. I have done my best to give to you, dear readers, a glimpse of what I have seen. Regrettably, my meager attempts at expression can only convey an inkling of the beauty I have experienced. Alas, I seem to have expressed my sorrow with a greater degree of ease in this regard.

I wonder at times as to a purpose, as I am one long lost...

Golden Bay

2009-02-21T12:24:00.001-06:00

I suppose, technically, I am referring to Wainui Bay, a place of indelible beauty and comfort (at least to me), north and west of the Abel Tasman Track on the South Island of New Zealand. It was one of those places where you could be wading in the ocean and yet see some peaks in the distance still covered in snow. The imagery in this place was quite staggering, as were many places, really, but I felt I could lose myself (and depending on the tides, trap myself) in the nooks, coves and small beaches of the area. Sometimes, I wonder if I still do... memory being what it is. So, what follows is a little stream of consciousness/blank verse about thoughts and such while walking across the bay and the area. I had written these thoughts down while in New Zealand but was finally able to put them in some cohesive format (um, at least for me I guess :)

'Golden Bay'

A drifting illusion on water
Amid such quiet calm
Waiting...
Beyond a distant twilight,
Lingering upon a gentle shore.

A passing thought in silence
Burdened by the tempestuous wind
Hoping...
Reaching toward your caress
Within the memory of simpler days.

Moments of serenity...
Lost to vanity and pride.

An image of a wistful dream
Borne in a sea of stars
Wishing...
To yield our tempered passion,
Hidden beneath the scars of night.

An illusion on water,
Carried by the wind.
Wanting...
Seeking some hope of resolution,
Upon the solace of your distant shore.

C.

Haikus...

2009-02-18T13:27:00.000-06:00

I have never really attemped haikus before. I mean, I knew how to do them, but something never really clicked. However, I started thinking of some old work and wanted to see it in haiku format among other things. Funny, I was vaguely inspired by an old 'Calvin and Hobbes' strip where Calvin offers a haiku to a sleeping Hobbes... quite funny, if you are a fan of the classic comic. In any event...

'Fontevraud Abbey'

Crumbling ruins...
Whisper in silent repose
Duchess and King.

Ok, so one old piece... the following is new.

'Golden Bay'

Such quiet calm...
Comfort upon a distant shore
Warm... your caress.

C.

The Nature of Thought...

2009-02-16T15:11:00.002-06:00

This is similar to the contemplation of the contemplative mind, but I digress and wonder about the nature of thought or more precisely, the nature of our thoughts. I have argued, perhaps weakly, that our thoughts aid in the perception of the universe at large, maybe even aided in the creation of the universe... or someone's thoughts at least. Since we are comprised of the same elements as the stars themselves, I am inclined to feel our thoughts and words have real power. Certainly not our everyday conversation, such as 'I feel like getting a beer' or 'Like, that outfit is totally...' (maybe those types of thoughts help wipe out star systems... celebrity supernovas?). Sometimes, though, an excellent conversation can help contribute to the wealth of wonder amid the stars and ourselves. Admittedly, most conversations would not fall into such a category, though perhaps the universe loves the ordinary as much as the extraordinary. I suppose it would be arrogant to think otherwise. Of course, maybe one must be able to percieve the connection between our hearts and the beating heart of creation in order to effect an influence upon what awaits in the gulf between the stars. And there is simply the idea that just because we are made of the same elements of the stars and planets, we have no influence whatsoever... again, arrogant egos. Still, I like to think we are connected and that thought, like many others, is a part of the nature of thought itself. It gives me as much comfort as I need sometimes, though not necessarily all the comfort I want, but who really gets such comfort these days? Maybe I will simply never be truly satisfied, and always searching for an answer when one might never have existed in the first place. It is certainly a possibility... I am ok with that. I know my path. It is one I accept, though I may not like it... I still accept it. I suppose that might be the nature of my struggle within the nature of thought. In order to seek such a higher purpose, I have to give up what I might not be prepared to give. It is something I do contemplate as I delve further into the ideas of thought.

I have left so much behind... I am not sure I am capable of taking the necessary steps. Maybe none of us are. It should make me feel better, but it does not.

Memories Of This Life...

2009-02-04T14:12:00.001-06:00

'Memories of This Life'

A tempering calm amid the burden of sin,
Instinct laughing in the weathering face of time;
Resolve eroding with every 'might-have-been',
A singular, tangible moment our only crime.

Remnants within seconds lost to the gulf of night,
Awakening upon the beauty of a far-green shore;
Distant echoes of indelible days unfurl beyond sight,
A heart yielding yet wanting for more.

For all such solace beyond the thoughts of love,
I can put aside the ache and shadow of our strife;
A wandering soul with nothing left to prove,
Hope fulfilled in the memory of this life.

Staving Off The Night...

2009-01-27T22:45:00.000-06:00

Our world is changing...

For good or ill, I have not the insight or the arrogance to say. Change for the sake of change is simply foolish, but then so is complacency for its own sake. While most of us have a desire to fight shifts in the political, cultural, physical and personal landscape, such shifts are inevitable. Nothing, except extinction, can really stop it. Fear usually stems from the fears of change. For in that fear lies the deepest fear of all: loss... loss of life, property, love... self. Fear is unknown, and that is simply why so many fear the night, the primeval unknown. And the future? The ultimate unknown. Hence the debates, some civil, some outrageous, about futures we can and cannot control. In truth, while we say we control our own destiny (oft cliched thanks to sporting events), only the present moment is under our direct control. That is the choice we have... the only choice. If in that moment, the future changes, well... so be it. Such becomes the nature of our existence along the roads we travel, literally and metaphorically. The Holmesian mirror of hindsight can temper new choices, open up new pathways, but in the end, the speed at which present and future collide can overwhelm even the most logical and stoic of philosophers just as it blinds almost every romantic... and most of us in-between. Change... change is our blessing and curse... one of many unique gifts, this capacity of will. Certainly not our greatest gift (in my rather minority opinion), but good enough at times for us to perceive a glimmer of the future hidden in the depths of the past.

In closing, I can only offer my own hopes... in the best way I can. I had written the following several months ago for reasons that matter little now, except one. It is all I can do to help stave off the night...

'The path we walk is lined with the voices of the distant past, our own past, the present, and a future which conceals itself until it merges with the present. Those voices are the words of time. They are the rocks we stop and pick up and examine along the way, a seashell that might be more enduring than another, a glint of starlight dancing upon calm waters, or the gentle calling of the wind from a distant, verdant shore. As we walk, we can choose to leave our own words for time to hear, for the posterity of those that might decide to pick you up one day and see how extraordinary you were to generations hence. Our legacy is not the visceral monuments of our arrogance and perceived greatness, but in what we carry with us... what is unique in all of us.'

The world is changing... and that is well.

C.

Excerpts From A (now) Uncluttered Mind...

2009-01-24T14:37:00.004-06:00

Well, Mom has come through her surgery ok, and appears to be doing quite well, though I think she over did it today. Still, she should be fine unless somehting unforseen comes up...

It has been a fairly long week, though not as tough as some, but mostly dealing with helping my Mom out while she has been out for surgery. That was mostly from worry, because I am happy to help family out when they need me... story of my life, to be fair. Regardless, one gets random thoughts about all the strangeness in this life and it starts to clutter up the noggin some. So, I figured, in lieu of being particularly poignant and/or obtuse (which, regrettably, can happen simultaneously... what's the point of being poignant when no one gets the point... *sigh*), I thought I would clean out some of the mental debris that has been accumulating during this week. Also, I have a couple of writing projects I have been alternately stalling and starting on (these things happen), and the mere exercise of doing this helps now and then...

So, some random thoughts but not necessarily random in purpose...

So, am I going to see some of that 170 million spent on the 'national celebration'? If not, why wasn't I invited? (and it's not a question of whether I would go or not, it's the principle of the thing :)

Though it's rather cold, ice cream sounds good at the moment.

Since the new president is freezing White House staffer's salaries of over 100,000, does that mean he is taking the job pro bono(since his salary is around a quarter of a million a year)? And what if you were making 98,000... do you get the shaft, or would you be one of those real troopers and take the hit for the good of the nation?

I think Congress should follow the White House's lead... most of them don't need the money either. If they all did it, in a couple of years we could just pay off the inauguration :)

Why is it ok to take back all the wonderful things we say in love, but it is never possible to take back some of the horrible things we might say in anger... I might argue the sting from the words in love can be worse. How arrogant we are in the passion of love. (note: guilty as charged, and if you think you are not... then you have never been in love)

We are all responsible for the mess we have created... I wonder if the stain on our souls can ever be cleansed.

I really hope the Steelers don't get a 6th Super Bowl ring... Steelers fans are bad enough... yes, I know, so are Cowboys fans, but I am not one of those Cowboys fans.

I need to be back on a beach...

(Am I the only person that thinks in parantheticals?)

Strange, I really know what it is like to be a pebble trying to stop an avalanche... worse, when you see it so clearly, and you know what is going to happen and have no way of stopping it... feeling powerless against the tide of history is a relatively normal occurrence for me.

The saying goes, 'you are only as old as you feel'... today, I don't know how old, or young I feel... but, I was always old, sooo...

Hmmm.... still a little cluttered, but less so than this morning. It's a start...

Thoughts On Genetic Memory

2009-01-09T00:20:00.003-06:00

Wow, it has been awhile since I have written here. Not unintentionally, I guess. Simply working on other projects and having two conventions around the holidays will do that. Well, then on to the actual matter at hand...

The idea of genetic, or racial and collective memory is not new. I suppose the term genetic memory is more commonly used, as racial memory is decidedly un p.c, and collective memory seems more metaphysical. For my part, I probably use the term collective memory and genetic memory more often. While I have understood the concept of collective memory for many years, I really did not think about it as much until I read Arthur C. Clarke's groundbreaking book Childhood's End. Without revealing too much regarding the book (and though from 1952 I highly recommend reading it), aliens come to the planet and demand the end of hostilities and potential nuclear war. I know, sounds like a recent and not so recent movie, but Childhood's End is much more of a philosophical read, as Clarke delves into not only our past fears, but our future ones as well. Clarke uses the term racial memory in the book, but I find the term genetic memory more palpable these days. Further, my understanding of genetic memory hearkens to Clarke's ideas in this regard. Put simply, Childhood's End is a tale of innocence lost (hence the title) and how we must eventually come to terms with our collective and individual genetic memories.

What, then is genetic memory? Is it simply instinct, our natural reaction to images, sounds, words, feelings? Or is it something higher, a collective memory that reaches from a future already written though without a clear understanding. In science fiction or science philosophy, I can easily propose such questions; however, the science of the 21st century might find the idea of a future memory within our genetic structure laughable. Therefore, I am delving truly into the realm of philosophy based on some good reading and probably gut instinct (or gut insanity depending on who you ask and how you feel in the matter). Regardless, I can only offer my view, which has been shaped through my own ruminations, writings, and reading on the subject. To me, I see this memory in action in many ways, especially in the instinct of our fears, our acquiescence in the strangest of situations, and our ever popular mob mentality. I understand it in my darkest moments, in the abyss of thought that can drag you into places you never wanted. And yet, I feel it in the reflection of the light of the universe in our eyes, the gentle hope of a new day, the promise of a home in the cradle of stars. We are the worst and the best in ourselves, and much of it comes from our instinct to hate and our instinct to love, what is written in our genetic code, our memory of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

While this memory can be on a collective level, it can be, at least to my mind, exceedingly personal. I have noted this recently in some of my writings, wondering if a few of the things I had written were less about present inspiration but more drawing from a memory of the future. It could be I simply have the mirror of hindsight, though a few poems and commentaries seemed remarkably prescient and appropriate. Of course, considering the way I write, it is rather easy to project one piece upon multiple situations. The cynic would merely opine that it is all mere coincidence, and some part of me would be inclined to agree. The realist in me notes my penchant for overthinking at times. The optimist, the dreamer... the romantic, the man who has seen so much wonder in this amazing universe, been given so much for so little in return, understands the truth, even if it is only a small truth. The higher truths tend to escape us anyways, even when we are confident in our understanding, as I thought so many times, especially in the vanity of youth. On the other hand, I could be drawing upon that memory even now, yielding only to the truth that exists in all of us.

One thing I do know, after reading Childhood's End, I never looked at the stars quite the same way. We are the universe made manifest, after all... and knowing that has helped me understand, for good or ill, past memories of future's days.

All the Best Holiday Wishes...

2008-12-24T18:12:00.001-06:00

For most of us, and for almost all the people I know, the day approaches (and for some in other parts of the world, it has already arrived :) and the world seems to take a step back. Our overwhelming concerns and worry ease if but for a moment, and we can celebrate this day in whatever manner befits our hearts, whether it is the joy of seeing the ones we care about tear into their new gifts, the excitement of seeing old friends and family (or new ones for that matter), or simply relaxing with good company and having a fine holiday meal. Many of us perhaps enjoy all three. In many ways I am blessed in that regard, and my hope is that you are blessed in such a manner as well. Of course, I would wish such a thing any time of the year, for how we feel during the holidays certainly can carry over into our daily lives and into the next year. The world can be a terrible, cruel place, and what we take with us during this time can give us a little comfort and solace in the face of the trials and travails of the coming year.

The holiday allows us to reflect, to renew, to understand, and to hope. It reminds us that we can set aside all grief and pain and seek only fellowship and peace. Admitedly, I am hardly being realistic, but if any time of the year has a place for idealism, this would be such a time. Besides, we can all use a little more hope in our lives, especially now. To that end, my ideal gift to all of you is my fond hope for you and yours during the holiday and for the upcoming year. May it be fruitful and blessed in all things, and may the light of the universe shine brightly in your hearts and in all that you do.

Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year :)

Chris

Cheese

2008-12-16T13:04:00.002-06:00

One of my favorite quotes is G.K Chesterton's comment about poetry and cheese: 'Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.' Well, I am breaking my silence on this matter this morning after thinking of the many moments when I would be quietly getting a piece of cheese out of the 'fridge when all of a sudden Merry (a very small shi tzu/ schnauser combination) is right next to me waiting for her share of the goodness. For being basically brain-dead (she barks at everything, even me), she is awful clever about food :)

'Cheese'

swiss cheddar
gouda brie pepper jack too
little growl tail wagging
waiting for a bite
grated unwrapped block
sliced matters not
always knows ready to beg
little growl tail wagging
so cute
provolone shredded deli
style too
smiling laughing antics
so many times
swiss cheddar
little growl tail wagging
off with her prize...
dogs and cheese
who knew?

Solace of Love

2008-12-13T23:11:00.003-06:00

I actually wrote an entry called 'Solace' a long while back, but it was more a question than the subject here, the idea of solace within love, which is certainly an ideal to seek for, and what love usually brings, or can bring if we are willing to let it. So, I just put a few words regarding the subject down and then went from there... sort of how it works with me.

'Solace of Love'

I long for your solace...

Gentle thoughts of unending days
Memories fresh in glorious repose
A tender caress eases so many
Aches of a weary heart.

I yearn for your comfort...

Quiet calm in the deep of night
Time lingering between seconds
Yielding to an enfolding desire
Union in depths unbound.

I wait for your touch...

Elegant splendor amid the joy of 'morn
Moments beyond a cradle of stars
Rest embracing all existence
Manifest in this light of the soul.

I long for the solace of your love...

Erratic Errata From the Past Couple of Months...

2008-12-09T15:08:00.003-06:00

I am not sure if I am going to make sense at all, but sometimes you just need to write and get it all out there, and I promised myself, if I did, then I would hold nothing back... some of this is simply an exercise in writing, a little is what has needed to be said for awhile, the rest is meandering nonsense... which, to be fair, is pretty normal for me.

This past weekend has been a blur, and while it is now Tuesday, my brain is still spinning from having to do so much for really so little a show. Of course, being tragically understaffed except in my department was the critical factor, and without the help I had I might have been more insane. Lucky me, I only went half mad. In truth, things at the show could have gone much worse, and many, many folks had an awesome time, more than did not. Even the fine folks that worked for me had a fantastic time, but I am sure some of that has to be how easy I was to work for, lol (and the bribes in alcohol). Still, I had moments of awesome mixed with a bit of stress, usually trying to fix things that were not thought about, or at least forgotten by others. Silly me and my memory. In truth, I sensed what would occur... knew it. I have excellent instincts, though I rarely listen to them because I am too trusting of others, and often afraid of giving in to my instincts. Just as well, because there were a few smart-asses I wanted to murder, sooo... instead I remained my usual restrained, congenial and courteous self, treating the staff, con-goers and guests with all the dignity and grace I could muster, which must have been a lot. The thing is, as much as I may want to give in, I have to be the man I was meant to be lest I destroy the best part of myself. I know in so many ways I am a product of another time and I constantly have to live with the consequences of the nature of my heart. It served me well to a degree this past weekend and over the past couple of months while away. And yes, I think about all the possibilities... all of them. Sometimes, it feels as if I have stepped into one of my stories and live, if for a moment, an alternate life. Other times, a memory steps in, takes hold, and leaves me breathless. In the end, my nature forces me to alleviate the pressure the only way I know how: boring the crap out of my readers, lol.

I do offer a caveat, some of what I am doing can be construed as whining/complaining, and if that is how you see it, certainly you are entitled to think in whatever manner seems essential to you. I only put the words to page and let the world decide, for it must. The rest is mere semantics. I have written for the sake of others and for myself. Now, I seem to only write for whatever is left in the depth of my heart. It is hard to come back from such depths when you understand the truth in your soul, when you understand you cannot go back to a previous journey. All you have is the one in front of you. No magic time machines... no alternate realities (even if it might make good fiction), only dreams of a dream that fade in quiet of the night, the wolf nipping at your heels. I felt it more and more throughout the last holiday and will feel it again as the current one approaches. If you knew what I had known, perhaps you will understand. The currents that flow from the edge of time through the truth of my soul cannot forget... nor should it. Yes, it waits in places that I push away when the memory returns, or when I want to feel again. And yet, it dominates my instincts I think, further showing how much of a fool I really am. Of course, I understand completely the nature of my foolishness, so shame on me in that regard.

I can only offer who I am to the burning heart of the cosmos... I can only offer my words to ease any suffering in the cradle of time. I know the truth of what I see and can only give this. For all the wandering across the sea, for all the travels and travails, this is what I understand. I will give everything in this understanding of us all. If it means I remain a bit out of place in time, if I must continue to treat people with the dignity I think they deserve (whether they actually deserve it or not), then so be it. I would do so until the stars burns cold...

As a species, we can be so much more than contained within Sagan's 'pale blue dot'... I suppose I can only do my part one life at a time.

The Holiday Season...

2008-11-28T22:15:00.001-06:00

It is possible I posted something about this before... maybe a couple of years back... anyway, prolly bears repeating :)

I have never been one to get into the 'spirit' of the Holidays. In general, I feel if a person is going to evoke the holiday 'spirit', then they should do so year round rather than be hypocritical for a month or so. I would like to think I am the same kind and generous person year round. Admittedly, I sort of have to, being in the anime convention business. One might argue being the type of person I am is not necessary, but I digress for personality does go a long way in garnering repeat business and happy customers. I have seen many a vendor and exhibitor treat their customers with disdain and disrespect and it invariably comes back to haunt them. I have seen vendors (even my employer) become too greedy and have watched it come crashing down when they least wanted to do so. Of course, I am not intimating I am beyond reproach, for sadly, I fall prey to our less decent instincts instead of heading the better angels of our natures, so to speak. Most of the time, though, I think I treat people and customers with a decency and civility that is often lost these days, except for perhaps one month out of the year. I also say this in regard to the United States, not necessarily my experience abroad, at least abroad recently. Perhaps the kindness, generosity and hospitality that was accorded me in New Zealand was atypical, but from what I have heard from other travelers and visitors (and the residents of the islands in general), my experience was fairly typical. That being so, I see how far we have fallen and may yet have to go. I can only attempt to return that kindness and hospitality in what I do, and while I have done so in the past, I see clearly how much further I must travel in that regard. This is well, for we all need to see such ends in whatever path is laid before us. Now, as Yulecon approaches, I am cast in a more unfamiliar role, handling the registration and convention sales booth and not our own vendors room booth. Still, I hope I can continue to evoke that same spirit I try and cultivate at every show I work as a vendor. It can be a struggle, but a smile and a kind word can go further than you might imagine. I saw this so often it became commonplace, so much so that I was surprised when I did not see it at home. At the last convention (Izumicon), I was even surprised at people's reactions when I offered my own kind words to others (while still remaining capitalistic :) Really, I should not have. Deep down, I know. We want to be made to feel special, if but for a moment, or perhaps a season. I simply want others to feel special any time of the year. In general, we probably deserve it, regardless of our sins. Again, to lead with the holiday spirit, this is probably a time to forgive all those sins anyways... even if we may not the remaining eleven months of the year. I suppose it is a start.

Company of Your Heart

2008-11-17T18:26:00.003-06:00

Switching gears, I wrote this almost immediately after the previous poem, perhaps my subconscious recognizing I might still have a little of the romantic left... or what can pass for hope in my constant waking dreams. This is also a little different from a stylistic point of view, reverting to a more traditional... sonnet, one might even say, though I would digress. I was simply thinking, or in this case, writing aloud.

'Company of Your Heart'

I ask for nothing save the company of your heart,
Giving all I must in return.
I seek only we do not remain apart,
Discarding the burden of expectations and pride.

You reveal so much more than I know,
Reaching through an instant of time.
You bespeak wonder burning within the soul,
Aching in the shadows of furtive dreams.

I yearn for but the tenderness of your grace,
Enraptured amid such a passionate respite.
I seek the enduring comfort of your sweet face,
Ending finally the storms of my regrets.

I ask for nothing save the company of your heart...

C.

Memories of Distant Roads

2008-11-17T18:08:00.003-06:00

I suppose it must be easy, considering my past, to try and read into what I write... hell, I do it. The following poem was sort of an exercise in writing, though I did feel a sense of sadness and regret as I let the words escape me. The subconscious can be a powerful motivator, and it often has more to say than I do at times. Often times, though, I still do not know what I am saying, only that I have to say it... or write it, as it were.

'Memories of Distant Roads'

Your heart...
Tho' I may never see
Such indelible beauty
Revealed in the fullness of your light.
I know...
What may one day be required
For the sake of memory
Adrift upon a darkening shore.
We see...
Eye to eye even in the
Harsh glare of today
Hope tempered by who we must be.
I understand...
Sorrow must eventually fade
For the sake of yearning
Cast upon the embers of love.
My heart...
One you might never reach
Across this gulf of moments
Lost in a waking dream.
We know... we knew.

C.

Some thoughts and other thoughts...

2008-11-14T23:18:00.003-06:00

Still dog-tired, so do forgive any of my sleep-deprived errors:

Sometimes you need to get some of this down in case you miss it, and then morning comes and you completely forget what you intended to write. So, this is what I use my blog for, a reminder of what I am supposed to be writing and or fomenting in my sometimes enigmatic and oft times demented mind :) I do have a lot to say and to write, some of which has been written already and just needs to be transcribed to electronic format. Much of it still waits to be written, in one format or another, in one project or another, though I will continue to use my blog as a test-bed of a sort for what I will be doing in the future. The past two months have taught me a lot about myself and others, about self-reliance, charity, decency, love, sadness, warmth, tenderness, worry... and the lack thereof. Maybe even more... Of course, conceptually, I knew these things, but to see them put into practice in so brief a time was humbling and challenging all at once. I spent time alone in the wilderness contemplating the thoughts of the universe itself, and would then be laid low in the grace of a simple smile. Finally, you stop wondering why a person was placed into your life, no matter how brief a time and however strange the situation... and you accept it. You become more grateful than you thought possible (unless you happen to be a sick bastard, and those people exist, sadly) and that is well...

I am still formulating many of my ideas, thoughts, chapters, essays, etc... and every time I think about what I want to do all I can do is smile at how blessed I have been. Even when I felt at my worst, someone would tell me 'hey, it's ok... it'll all work out'. Always... and you know what... it has, most times in the most unexpected of ways (here is where I thank the State department of all groups :) And that too is well...

So, more to come, more to write and more to say... after the jet lag settles.

C.

Finally Home...

2008-11-14T11:12:00.001-06:00

Well, I'm home, so to speak after a grueling, though interesting journey back to the US. I will update and expand as I can, but right now... I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for a week... :)

Take care and see ya soon,

C.

On the Way Back...

2008-11-07T23:58:00.002-06:00

Just a quick update... finally headed back to the North Island, crossing tonight to Wellington, then a bus to Auckland and home on the 11th... a short, though long journey and some good adventuring... I will be writing much of it down once I can get to a computer I don't have to pay by the hour to use :) One nice perk of home...

C.

My Apologies...

2008-11-03T17:21:00.002-06:00

I had been doing some writing but not really updating and therefore my apologies in this regard. Also, my Internet time has been limited and so I had to ignore blogging in favor of making sure I could get certain emails. Such is the way of things. Still, once I return home, I will do some updating and begin working on another writing project regarding my own travel experiences here in New Zealand and other roads I have traveled... whether forgiven or not (sorry, little joke regarding one of my poems :) In any event, I shall do more soon and try and add some of the pieces I have written in the past week or so as I can. Until then...

C.

Open Mic Night in Golden Bay

2008-10-23T17:09:00.002-05:00

Well, thought I would have a quiet night waiting for the rain to clear before I moved on. Instead, I stumbled upon a pub that was having an open mic jam session, so with the help of some kind folks from the hostel, I did some readings from some of my newer works and from my second book. Thankfully, I had some background music to help out and make me feel a little less overwhelmed (it was actually a decent sized crowd for a very small town). In all, I think it turned out ok and helped a tough day end well. In any event, it had been a long time since I had done something like that, so... all was good.

C.

Upon Queenstown Hill

2008-10-13T21:52:00.002-05:00

This particular poem was inspired by the starkness of the water and mountain views from atop Queenstown hill, about 2000 feet or so above the town... staggering really.

'Upon Queenstown Hill'

A singular instant of such a radiant dawn
Seeks to ease a tempestuous burden
Fraught by an unending, unyielding gulf
'Betwixt the realm of the heart and soul.

The majestic serenity of sweeping hills
Knows the fire kindling within
Held fast through this quiet struggle
Amid a glance from waters beyond icy blue.

Tomorrows fade upon a far green shore
Waiting as this world races the night
Dreams escape a hope of fragile memory
Under the breath of a forgotten lament.

C.

Midnight's End

2008-10-13T21:47:00.002-05:00

Again, as I have mentioned before... sometimes there are poems you wish you did not have to write, though some of them can be a little hopeful. To a degree, this is one.

'Midnight's End'

Dream with me...

Though tides and time hold us at bay
Reach into the moment within,
Live in the moment without,
Feel my call beyond the breath of midnight's lost.

Speak with me...

E'enn if ten thousand leagues stand in our paths
Seek this gentle movement,
Trust this tender soul,
Listen to my heart enveloped in the warmth of dawn.

Wait for me...

Though I wander the currents of tide and time
Hope in this veil of twilight,
Yearn in this wonder revealed,
Wrapped within the memory of the night.

C.

In Queenstown

2008-10-10T18:07:00.000-05:00

Wow, I'm surprised it has been a week since I updated, but it has been a strange one, especially wandering the streets of Christchurch and Dunedin, but after the strangeness there (I will have to put to page when I have better Internet access), I have journeyed to the mountain refuge of Queenstown and its wonderful environs... expensive, except for the beer, go figure. Think of Aspen but with a much, much younger crowd, lol. In any event, should be here for the weekend then off to further up the West Coast...

C.

Addendum...

2008-10-04T16:14:00.002-05:00

Actually, as it turns out I am going to Christchurch instead of the Golden Bay region... costs me less to travel there than Nelson, so yay economics, and it gets me further south, which is my ultimate goal anyways...

C.

Wellington and the South Island...

2008-10-03T16:41:00.003-05:00

After a series of mishaps, I have finally had a chance to get a post up that might not have been two sentences. After some money going missing, I had to bring my rental back to Auckland and then limp my way to Wellington, though I chose an interesting route: hitchiking, which is sort of a badge of honor in New Zealand... they don't care much for begging, but hitchiking is sort of an exception to the rule, soically acceptable begging if you will. I mean, if I walked up to someone on the street and asked for a few bucks to go to Wellington by bus, then I would get some disdainful looks. Instead, I stuck a thumb out and off I was. And my first experiences hitchiking were much better than Arthur Dent's (and I admit the planet was not getting blown up... yet), so I cannot complain at all.

So, I wound up in Wellington and tried to get re-sorted out, which I did, and enjoyed the hospitality of 'Windy Welly' and the unseasonably fine weather for two days, though today is turning a little sour. Not much I can do about that (though I have been accused of being something of a weather god, bringing sunshine to Wellington for 2 straight days :) and I will be disappointed if the views are obscured as I head to the South Island and points west and south, likely the Marbolough Sounds and the Golden Bay region. Of course, I could wind up elsewhere, but we will see. Regardless, should be an adventure, as if it had not been already...

'Til next time,
C.

In the Art Deco City...

2008-09-27T16:59:00.002-05:00

Well, I have settled in to Napier for a couple of days, otherwise known as the Art Deco City because of it having to be rebuilt after an earthquake in the 30's. From what I saw last night, very nice, but hope to get some more sightseeing done today, then perhaps off tomorrow or here for another day. Have not decided yet, but that is one nice thing about all this. I really don't have to decide :) Hope everyone is having a great weekend and will have a great week.

C.

The Cape

2008-09-24T22:57:00.003-05:00

I promised I would have something more substantial about my journey to Cape Reigna...

Sometimes there are poems you wish you never had to write. In the deepest part of my heart, I feel this is one of them. While necessary and a bit liberating, it still was tough, and I hope those that read this do understand. Regardless, I do think the piece puts some issues finally to rest, and given the light of recent events... it had to be done. Anyway, I hope I have done some justice to my heart and for the future in this regard. The rest, dear reader, is for you and the world to decide...

'The Cape'

Toward this end a world awaits,
Fading in vacant thoughts of quiet days.
Words dissolve in nascent twilight,
Within a heart that cannot stay.

From a tender hope a moment falls,
Into a realm devoid of waking dreams.
Longing drifts upon her silent tides,
Amidst a heart that might have been.

Her waters caress a distant end,
Beyond her shore this memory weeps.
Our words dissolve in fading twilight,
Beneath her shore this promise sleeps.

C.

The Cape and Bay of Islands

2008-09-24T16:38:00.003-05:00

I should have some more later regarding my visit to Cape Reigna, truly a visit to the end of the world, at least that is how it felt... empty and wonderful all at once, and really a perfect day for it. Some other thoughts and ideas crept in regarding the Cape and I still have not sorted it out. Later in the day, I stopped in Paihia and the Bay of Islands and have settled there for a couple of days. Quite amazing natural scenery and a really quaint town(s), though I hear it becomes rather touristy in the summer. In any event, just a quick update before I head off to Russell, which is one of the older settlements in NZ, and has something of a history as a hard-drinking whaling town.

'Til next time,
C.

Night's Dawn...

2008-09-22T03:27:00.004-05:00

I am certainly not attempting to sound ominous in this entry, for the title has less to do with me but with the Night's Dawn Trilogy by Peter F. Hamilton. At 3600 pages, it is an epic read, and can be dizzying even for the most hardcore of hardcore sci-fi fans. Hamilton does an amazing job creating a breathing universe with excellent characters and characterizations. If he has one flaw, it might be his overtelling of the science, but I believe his background is in physics, so I am willing to give him some leeway there (as if I am giving advice to prolific sci-fi writers :) I also think the books are a bit more graphic sexually than most sci-fi novels, but most of the time, the sex serves an end. Regardless of what surrounds the novels, at their heart is a simple philosophical tale, at least to me. And I fully admit, what I find simplicity might drive others mad, so take that as you will.

The novel revolves around the dead coming back to life and possessing bodies through a quantum mishap, and the series of events spiral out of control until everyone from Al Capone to Fletcher Christian are taking over bodies. It sounds a little out there, but is excecuted quite well and really takes an interesting tack on the standard back from the dead stories... quantum zombies? Sort of... In the end, it all boils down to the nature of the soul and how humans (and other races) can deal with the end of their own existence, and the existence of the universe. I think that is why I really connect with this author and the novels. I sort of understand combating the nature of the soul. I can see the end of existence as well as the continuation thereof in what little glimpses I have been afforded, and what little I have been able to impart to others. The novels, while grand space opera, reach into something simpler, and that is also the essence of good storytelling as well.

In any event, reading the books again has made me ponder our attempts at existing and continuing to exist. We take a lot with us on our journeys, and we do not want to leave it all behind, though I think we must. Well, we can leave it all behind but one emotion, and I will refrain from the obvious in that regard. I think the trials and travails of this life bind us to an existence we may not want when we pass on, and maybe that is why so many of us keep returning lifetime after lifetime (or however you ascribe an afterlife :) Perhaps that is why I am so calm about that one thing at least. Sure, I have plenty of issues, but I think I can face the twilight of my existence with a calm acceptance... a serenity of a sort (thank you, master Yoda, lol) that can govern the remainder of this mortal life. Again, I could be full of it... but I can think of worse fates.

C.

Thoughts and Ruminations...

2008-09-19T23:18:00.003-05:00

As I promised... this time a little more philosophical... so take it as you will :)

Being in Auckland reminds me of some of my time in Sydney back in 2004, though with certainly a fresher perspective, if not somewhat jaded from the experiences of the past few months. I admit to some trepidation in that regard, and I do try and ignore what I can as I can. Every so often, I feel it, and while it may not be fair, it is terribly human. These same emotions that cause me to remember, to drift now and then (more then than now these days, but...) are the same that I use in opening myself to the words... the same heart that beats in tune with the what Dante wrote 'L'amor che muove il sole e l'atre stelle.' (The Love that moves the sun and other stars). To discard such love might be a fate worse than death... I can only be true to my words, to my instinct, right or wrong, good or ill.

I think I have found people on my journey to be receptive to most conversation, including my weekend in California, and I still am warmed by such good discourse, though it has only been but a week. In the end, we all want to be heard, whether the talk runs from the lastest sporting news to lists of things to do before you die or to the very nature of the cosmos. It matters to someone... to you, to me, to them. Maybe it matters to what we cannot see, or hear, but can feel at the edge of self... not quite hidden, waiting to be revealed. All it takes is a willingness to understand each other, to look with another set of eyes, listen with an open heart. Admittedly, I have touched on this before, but concepts like these often bear repeating. They are seminal in understanding each other... keys to a future worth sharing. Or... I could be full of shit. But then most philosophers do that, shovel their own brand of shitand hope it smells better than the rest. I guess, at least, I am a little realistic... but not too much. If I weren't idealistic, I doubt I would have left the States.

Now, I am about to embark on another stage of the journey, driving the countryside of New Zealand for a little while. I will see where the days take me... who knows what they will bring? Not I, and I am ok with that :)

C.

P.S. A little strange thought about the term hopeless romantic... which I am, and I have met a few in my life. I suspect the term must be a bit misleading. To be that type of romanitc implies more hope than the rest... it is inclusive of hope. Anyway, just an odd thought.

The Zoo, MOTAT and IMAX

2008-09-16T23:55:00.003-05:00

I promise, I will be a little more philosophical soon... had some interesting thoughts on the bus, so...

Well, I must say the past two days have been fun and I know I have not done a lot of things most might do, but I am not most people... something all of my reader might be thankful for... or not : ) Seriously, it seems discounts have been dropping into my lap from the day of my arrival and kept on hitting me... which is good. First, I get one free night and moved to a private room for a couple of days at my hostel due to a minor error. Then, a fellow American buys me a beer because he found out I was a Cowboy fan (while watching the game). Today, I get my student discount at the zoo and MOTAT (the Museum of Transport and Technology) with my ancient student ID. At that cost, the zoo was barely worth it (while pretty, a little small, though they do well with what they have) though MOTAT was great, especially the aircraft restoration hangar... awesome. Later, I decide to see what is playing at the movies and get told IMAX is discounted because Dark Knight has been playing too long. End result, I pay about 5 dollars US (less than a matinee for a normal film at home) and the combo meals are half off too... so a large drink, popcorn and ice cream for about 5 dollars... not bad, plus Dark Knight is amazing in IMAX... trust me on this :)

Well, tomorrow off to the Domain and Auckland Museum I think... hope things continue their run and hope all of you are doing well while waiting with baited breath about updated to my adventures :) (or lack thereof, lol)

C.

In Auckland

2008-09-16T14:07:00.003-05:00

Well, made here to Auckland safe and sound, though still a little tired and sore from the flight, even after some sleep. I did get to watch the Cowboys prevail at a local pub with some fellow Cowboy fans, so that was fun and relaxing, to say the least. Today, off to do some more sightseeing, and maybe an entry that might actually be more profound than me updating my status : ) Of course, I will do what I will, so to speak, and I am sure I will have an entry or two upcoming that is more than just me listing off what I did today, or the last couple of days... or something.

Anyway, take care all... another day awaits.

C.

In LA...

2008-09-14T12:16:00.002-05:00

Well, visiting my sister this weekend before I leave. Actually, I leave tonight at 10:30 PST and get into Auckland at about 6:30 on the 16th (so about 12:30 pm CST on the 15th, for those of you at home :) I've had a wonderful visit, though I am most certainly ready to take my leave. Really, it has been a great way to start the trip and most auspicious, so nothing like a lot of good energy to take with me on a long voyage.

In any event, just a little update. Suffice to say, I am in good spirits regardless of everything, and am ready :)

C.

One Last Thing Before I Go...

2008-09-10T22:26:00.001-05:00

Technically, I do not even leave the city until Friday morning, but I have to spend Thursday tidying up some issues regarding work and will not have good Internet access until I get to my sister's on Friday night. From there, I spend a couple of days with her in LA and I get on a plane Sunday night for a twelve hour sojourn that will put me in Auckland very early on the 16th, meaning I lose a day of my trip already. Such are the travails of crossing the international dateline. And while I will use the Internet on my trip, my main goal will be to use it to update anyone who wants to know if I am alive or have been mauled in a tragic sheep farm accident. I suspect the latter example might be a bit extreme, but one never knows... I hear sheep rule the country with an iron fist... or hoof, or something.

Some might feel it is convenient I am skipping town just as many of my friends are having to endure the brunt of a hurricane bearing down on them, most of you know I did not exactly use my crystal ball to foretell this scenario... hell, if I could see the future, well, probably best not to delve into such things. I understand many of you have a lot on your mind, and I suppose it is par for the course on my end. Regardless, I am leaving and while I might wish to quote 'LA Story' here and reference weather and life-changing and all that... such stories are for another time and for no one that wants to remember save this old fool, and then only peripherally.

Many of you might wonder why I am doing this. Others do not have to. Some may not care. Well, aside from concern, the only feelings in this that should matter are mine. To that end, I must apologize. If I am impractical, regardless of me going out and taking what I want, then so be it. If I am unsettled and unable to cope with certain things, then you truly do not know me. I have been practical, I have settled, and I do have coping mechanisms. Some of you knew me when I was married and mostly settled, others knew me as a wanderer abroad, and some met me later while I was still trying to regain what the world had stolen from me. I was willing to give and to settle once again, and gave until I could no more. And yet... it was not enough.

Therefore, I simply go because I must and because it is the right thing for me to do. It may not be right in the eyes of some, maybe even some wiser than I. All that is pointless. It is right for me... Do I have some regrets? A little... but no doubts this time. For me, the path is clear. I have no idea what awaits, but I am fine with the mystery. Story of my life anyways :)

In the end, you should all know I am not running, not even from myself. I am well past that... I am beyond so much I have difficulty explaining it. I have tried in previous installments and entries and I hope I can offer a glimmer of understanding for all of us, really. Maybe more of that understanding waits for me. Or, perhaps just a little peace... I know I have earned that at least.

So, for all our journeys, present and future, I offer an old Egyptian blessing: May God stand between you and harm in all the empty places where you must walk.

C.

Gonna miss this...

2008-09-08T11:03:00.004-05:00

I finally made it in from Realms Con, and it was far better than expected, in a lot of ways. From the usual money point of view, we did pretty good, about 40 percent better than last year, but we had half the dealers and slightly more attendees. A good formula for success, I think. At first, I was a little skeptical (especially when the IkkiCon staff decided to crash in my room), but things turned out fine, especially when we settled on the costs of alcohol and how much we needed. In short, most of my staff/dealer/actor friends I have known over the years (and a few new ones) decided to throw a couple of parties and help send me off to NZ right. Of course, the parties happened to start in my room and strangely, both nights ended with a lot of excellent stir fry. In the end, I had a marvelous time and am going to miss them all... really, it's going to make leaving all the tougher.

But, they understand what I have to do... it's just time. So, all I can tell them is to expect me when you see me, more mysterious that way anyways :)

Now, to do a lot of packing.

C.

The Final Countdown...

2008-09-01T20:29:00.003-05:00

Not that I am referring to the movie, though I did love it, and think it helped inspire many an alternate historian... simply the days are getting closer and time is starting to run out in a sense. I really started feeling it this weekend, saying goodbye to a few anime friends, though some of them will be at the last show I do before I leave, Realms Con in Corpus Christi. So, that will be fun I am sure. I suppose some of my friends did see the glint in my eye when I talked about it, how they know I could stay, or not stay, depending on how things work out. In the end, the choice will be mine and mine alone. While I appreciate advice and concerns, this is my show. I hope everyone I know can respect that at least. I know I have had some difficulty respecting myself in this matter... the only opinion that I should trust is mine. I have given a lot to many of my friends, to family, to those I have loved. I hope they can give me this solace in return. Time grows short... and I have yet another world to explore.

C.

25 Songs Revisited

2008-08-26T15:46:00.002-05:00

Previously(maybe 2 years ago), I have posted my top 25 songs, books, and my top 100 films (which most people can't believe I did that one with commentary on each film... what can I say, I like lists :) However, tastes change (even mine sometimes), whether it be movies, books, or songs... a lot is still the same, but a few have changed since I introduced that list a couple of years back (which is a variation of an older list... ok, now I sound a bit... creepy). Anyway, I now offer another list, revised and expanded with commentary throughout... but you sort of figured on that score already.

25 Songs
1) 'Piano Man' by Billy Joel- For many reasons, this one will always stay number 1, though I am fond of the live Elton John/Billy Joel version.
2) 'Blue Eyes' by Elton John- A little hard to listen to these days, but it has been my favorite song by Elton John for a long, long time... baby's got blue eyes... and she's gone... again. c'est la vie
3) 'The Wanderer' by U2 (starring Johnny Cash)- This song just fits me, and anyone who has heard it would probably agree.
4) 'Music of the Night' by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber- Always my favorite 'Phantom' song, and probably will remain so.
5) 'Tiny Dancer' by Elton John- One of the seminal moments in 'Almost Famous/Untitled' involves this song... a classic
6) 'Running on Faith' by Eric Clapton- A highly underrated song... really, really liked it when I was younger... now, I like it again.
7) 'One' by U2- There are three versions of this song I really love: 1. The original, which is a classic (regardless of what Jessie says about it :) 2. The Johnny Cash version... so mournful and 3. The live Sting/U2 w/ the LSO, so melodious and haunting, almost perfect.
8) 'Leningrad' by Billy Joel- In honor of our new old nemesis, the Russians, this song moves up the charts :) but a fine, fine song about the Cold War regardless
9) 'The Saga Begins' by Weird Al Yankovic- Satire and Star Wars at its best... doesn't get too much better, really.
10) 'I Can Feel It Coming Back Again' by Pearl Jam (live)- The live/acoustic version is so much better, and that much more haunting.
11) 'The Rainbow Connection' by Paul Williams (performed by Kermit the Frog)- Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me :)
12) 'Achilles, Agony and Ecstasy in Eight Parts' by ManOWar- ManOWar puts the heavy in Heavy Metal... and this song coming in at 30 minutes or so, is why Heavy Metal was created... and certainly appropriate if you know the types of songs ManOWar does.
13) 'The Last Song' by Elton John- Written about the death of Freddie Mercury, but became a song indicative of the early struggle against AIDS
14) 'Flash' by Queen- Speaking of Freddie Mercury...
15) 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers- I have enjoyed the Chili Peppers from time to time and have always enjoyed this song
16) 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' by The Beatles- I admit, there is a tribute version by Eric Clapton that is amazing, but any version of this song is awesome.
17) 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday' by U2- Hard to tell whose side Bono is on in this song... regardless, fantastic song.
18) 'Turn the Page' by Bob Seger- The original is still the best and may Metallica's shit version burn in hell...
19) 'Vincent' by Don McClean- A lovely, stirring tribute to a brilliant, though ultimately troubled artist (Van Gogh, for those that do not know the song).
20) 'Forever Young' by Alphaville- Who doesn't want to be forever young?
21) 'The Russians' by Sting- I suppose the Russians did love their children... but is a new generation listening? (actually its the same guys... Putin was ex-KGB after all... something about leopards and spots).
22) 'Highwayman' sung by Nelson, Cash, Kristofferson and Jennings- ah, quasi-country and reincarnation, how can you go wrong?
23) 'Hurt' by Trent Reznor (Johnny Cash version)- This version is so haunting and moving and, though Nine Inch Nails fans might disagree, blows the doors off the original version.
24) 'Baby Grand' by Billy Joel (with Ray Charles)- some classic piano playing blues... fantastic.
25) 'America' by Paul Simon- As a friend or two might agree, a great traveling song :)

Honorable mention: I sort of hesitate mentioning this, mostly for modesty's sake, but the guitar in it is amazing, even if the vocals... well, aren't good: 'Midnight Sea' by Chris Powell and Ilya Fedoravich (I am thinking I might get my brother Hunter to re-do this song, who is a far better singer and an amazing guitar player as well).

Well, that should cover it until I have nothing to do on a Tuesday afternoon, but considering the next couple of weeks of shows and leaving the country, I might not have too much time on my hands (go ahead, breathe that sigh of relief :)

C.

Discourse, Dialogues and Discussions

2008-08-25T13:07:00.005-05:00

When I start traveling again in the next couple of weeks, (or even when I am traveling here in the US) I am always keen to hear the words of others as it relates to the rest of the world. It sort of gives me an idea how well-informed we are these days. Some times I feel we are too well-informed. As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. Regardless, I find most of the discussions to be lively and enlightening, and I suspect I will hear no end of the upcoming election, especially since I hear Kiwis are even more politically minded than Aussies (who, strangely, I visited in 2 other election years... '92 and '04... weird). Just as well, I suppose. I am not so much concerned these days with the election as I am the return to the world stage of Mother Russia, and not in a feel-good way either. Plus ca change...

At the outset of the new millennium, I had hoped for something better. From a technology point of view, I have been moderately pleased, though I see technology rampaging out of control. Of course, that could just be a result of reading too many books on technology rampaging out of control... or, I could be right... I was right about Russia, but then the nut finds a squirrel every now and then. The world simply pains me. We have so much potential, but it is squandered on petty bickering, outdated revolutionary dogma and their associated organizations, fanatical belief systems that have only caused more bloodshed, unabashed greed and lust for power, sex, drugs, money... etc. It makes one wonder who the animals of the world really are... For all our potential good, the flip side of that coin mars us... sometimes through choice, other times through chance. I hope that I can see more of that good in others as I wander throughout this world again. I admit, it is easy to see in a person, or a few people. And perhaps my quibble is with the powers and principalities of this world, or those that command the loyalties of fanatical murderers, or even those that feel one death is justified by the ends. Of course, my points are hardly pragmatic. I understand. And I know I have a long way to go myself, but ultimately, that is what dialogue and discussion is for... so we can all understand, even if, especially if, the rest of the world cannot.

C.

The Long Twilight

2008-08-23T11:24:00.003-05:00

Just as an aside, some readers who have followed this blog for awhile might recognize the following poem, which is actually pieces of two poems (though mostly a title and ending change). It just seemed appropriate to modify it to this form and call it one piece...

When writing, I am a continuous editor, which I suspect might be a good trait. Often times, I will do what Frost used to do and let a poem or other work sit for a year or so, and when I come back to it, and I still like it, then it might be worth keeping... or at least refining. Virtually every poem I have written has gone through some variation or another (though I have a few notable, mayhap even incredible exceptions that some have read... or own a copy of :) It is the nature of writing, and also it gives me something to do when I am less inspired than normal. I hope that New Zealand will have the same effect on my inspiration that Australia or... others have had. In any event, the following poem is actually a fusion of a sort of two older poems, maybe a little maudlin, but I have always appreciated the metaphor of twilight and dreams (as many waking dreams occur for me in twilight, so...). On another note, this one actually rhymes, one of 4 or 5 that I have written that do... every now and then the nut finds the squirrel :)

'The Long Twilight'

I know the solace of regret...

Torn by choices from distant days
Sensing what could have been forlorn
Laid bare in full view
Of the nebulous light of 'morn.

I yearn for a memory of ignorance...

Borne from remnants of desire
Yielding to a truth that would not stay
Lost in the sorrow of desolation
Caressed by the shadows of a fading day.

I seek the embrace of absolution...

Coursing through veins of doubt
Removed from this soul's gentle light
Welcomed ever so warmly
Into the approaching wasteland of the night.

I am haunted by twilight...

C.

Today... and Tomorrow

2008-08-22T00:25:00.003-05:00

Technically, I wrote this yesterday but forgot to post it... still, it applies to the rest of the week as well and the month as a whole... memories are like that for me I guess.

The shadows of a year ago today have weighed heavily upon my heart, and today... at least today perhaps, I am entitled to share that weight, maybe even all it entails. The day itself does not linger in shadow, only the illusion I allowed myself to believe. Now, it seems unreal, and yet, like other unreal moments, I live with the memories. My nature, for good or ill, compels me so. I cannot change that aspect of myself, nor should I want to, for in doing so, the best part of me dies. Without the inspiration of memory, I am less a man... merely a shadow of a shadow. Because of this, then, undue (or maybe due, who knows?) strain can haunt me, just as a pleasant thought erupts into a burst of creativity. Such is the dual conflict of one born under the Sign of Sorrows (that would be us Pisceans). Of course, astrology can be as much an excuse when one is a 'perfect' match as it can when you cast blame upon the stars for the nature of your heart. Really, it boils down to a decision: whether you decide to be a good person... or not. Indeed, it is the simplest decision of them all, the choice of the good heart and right action. Admittedly, right action might not necessarily be good, and what is good (or at least perceived to be so) might never be right. Most times, such things are in accord. Who I am is the result of my choices and feelings. Sure, all (or most) of you might have had a hand in molding my feelings and choices, but in the end, I have to be the one to decide, as do you all. Even in love... we make choices, even if it is to choose to say we have no choice, for it only gives us comfort in the decision that has already been made. Regardless, I understand.

So, today. For me, today, while a memory of something remarkable, is the path to tomorrow, though my tomorrow looms closer than some but not so close as others. Today needs to be set aside in the memory of past joy, so that it will not burden tomorrow, especially for me... and you, all of you. At least I hope that today creates such memories, even if they might be a glance of a memory of some pleasant past, or the hope of a brighter future. The health of the wellspring of our soul needs such hopes, if even for a little while. I am not sure what my tomorrow might bring except the shuffling of my feet across a couple of large islands at the end of the world (or however I desire to travel, by car, train, bus, sheep, etc :) Still, it is all I know about tomorrow at the moment, and for now... all I need.

In the end, I have to wonder why it all matters, even after thinking I have come to some enlightened conclusion in a sometimes vague book. Maybe it is because we all matter to what awaits in the cradle of stars, or that we all, in some strange interconnected way, matter to each other (and some more than others, naturally). Or maybe I am still just a naive fool who can never quite wipe the stars from his eyes.

If it be so, then allow this fool his indulgence of memory. Some day, the memory might fade, like so many others... but not today.

To a brighter tomorrow,
C.

Home and Home Again

2008-08-18T22:40:00.002-05:00

Well, this is more an update than anything else. I sort of feel like cheating adding this post, but I have made it back from the wilds of Baltimore and Iowa with a little more wherewithal to make my trip to New Zealand in three weeks (wow, sneaking up on me). I still have two more shows to do before the trip commences and I still have a few things to work on before I go. For now, I am going to get some rest this weekend and try to ignore... well, ignore what should have or might have been this week instead of what is... more on that later perhaps. But now, a little sleep... about all I can muster I think.

C.

A Year of Rebirth, Reckoning and...

2008-08-10T21:34:00.001-05:00

I sit in a quasi empty hotel room drowning out the decadent noise of the television and the incessant snoring of a co-worker, who, by all accounts, is an ass, though sometimes entertaining, and at least works (unlike James who randomly disappears when he is needed most during setup and tear down). I still have to spend another week or so on the road with him, including a couple of days of down time in the DC area. Well, I get to see a few things I have not seen in awhile. Awhile... ironic at the moment and the time, for time is something I cannot escape. I am its eternal prisoner, as are we all. Yet, because (or perhaps in spite of) of my memory, time tears at me in ways most of us find easy to forget. Forget? Hardly, even when I want to. Memory is in the little things, you see, and while I can sometimes be dense, I am quite observant, and the little things... they always seem to take me at the worst possible of moments. Needless to say, this can be no one's fault save my own and the nature of the way I see the world and how I reconcile thought and memory. As such, I feel the weight of my past, the weight of this year in ways that require probably more alcohol or drugs than I can safely consume to dull the stains of this year.

Remarkably, much of the year was special, and I could never forget that... nor should I ever want to, even if others must. In a way, I have to remember, if only for posterity, and I do take pride in my desire for posterity. I admit to being prideful in such ways, but not as prideful as others might think. I have re-discovered the nature of my pride, the nature of my own dignity and the power of forgiveness in ways I never wanted to consider. Still, the experience helped me forge something greater for my own future even my present (and past) still give me pause. That is the nature of my soul... and ultimately, my sins.

I understand that some may not want to read this (though if you got this far, might as well finish :) and others may simply ignore what might seem a disconsolate attempt at what... something foolish? Contrary to many opinions, I am hardly a fool. I was certainly naive and unwilling to see what was plainly obvious, but I was in love... what was I supposed to do? In the end, I have only done what a man desperately in love would have done, and if any one claims they would have done otherwise, I challenge them to look deep into the core of their heart, the wellspring of their very soul and question the nature of love itself. For my part, I could have done no less, and regrettably at times, no more. And those of you who truly know me... you know the truth in my actions. They were borne of only one thing, borne of the truth in my soul. And if you still do not understand, then you never knew me.

I admit, during this strange, terrible and wonderful year, I made many mistakes, far less than some might think, more than I would have liked. But I have only done what I thought was right for those I cared about most, and still care about in the ways I still can. I gave everything to my words and to love. The reality, though, haunts me. I wonder if I can ever do so again...

Now, I face the world on my own, as I had been doing for so many years. Much of my life has been on the terms of others... in the next couple of months, at least, everything will be on my terms. I feel I have earned a little respite, even if whatever else I have earned in this life will remain hidden until I can allow someone else the privilege of seeing the world through my eyes again. It is not what I want, perhaps even deserve... but it is what I must do. I can only ask for your understanding and respect in these matters, as I have tried to be as understanding in return to everyone I have called friend.

I do not know where I am going, and for once I am glad of it.

C.

The Roads Taken...

2008-08-04T20:05:00.004-05:00

I assure you I know Frost's meanings all too well. Pity that my road became what it is/was. Or less pity for some, etc. Maybe I will be happier again overseas... I have been a little happy just having nice conversations (what I enjoy most in friends anyways) at the last few anime shows, but... as the time lingers into a moment I would hate and like to forget all at once, I do wonder about the road I am on and where I am going. Physically, I know I am going to New Zealand soon, to Baltimore on Wednesday and Iowa next week. Mentally, I understand my roads and my fate... otherwise, a little tough at the moment, and I hope those that read this do truly understand. I wonder if she understands. I know what I have been told, and that must be enough. I know it all too well.

I will do my best to be strong, to focus on selling tons of crap, to finish scraping up my life savings to go on another journey, to continue to help others see the world through my eyes... for now, that's all I have, and all I know about this current road I am taking.

C.

Points of No Return

2008-07-29T13:39:00.002-05:00

For starters, this has nothing to do with any personal point of no return, the 3rd Season of Babylon 5(or episode of the same name) or the song from 'Phantom of the Opera'... just a little ruminations from wherever I've put my mind these days.

Between terrorism, pandemics, outright war, threats during times of supposed good will, media-inspired global panic and general apathy of the world's citizenry, I wonder if we are worth even saving, if the reckoning that is coming somewhere down the road is fitting? I wonder if I have been simply made too cynical or pessimistic by a variety of issues, or just getting older and understanding the harsh pragmatism of the world we have to live in so we can survive. The best part of me surely wants to remain idealistic and hopeful (regardless of commentary from others), but the historian in me always questions. That I suppose must be my curse... not too many romantic historians out there I suspect. I generally would like to give the world the benefit of the doubt, and yet... I know the truth of our past, present, and because of that, our future. Even knowing and understanding certain truths (or at least what I have perceived as truth) about our place in the universe, about the love it shares with us, fades at times with the knowledge of how terrible people really are. Mind you, this is not a revelation to any of us... we suck. We are frail, flawed, corrupt, cynical, prideful, scornful, lustful, greedy and murderous... not necessarily in that order, nor do we all give in to all those traits, but most of us are a mistake away from giving in to any of our fears that can lead to such a darkness. Some, the sociopaths and fanatics of the world, simply give in to desire in the name of self-satisfaction or for their cause, but the cause is merely a form of self-satisfaction in the end. If you achieve the end of liberating, say, Upper Silesia from the harsh rule of the Poles or the Slovakians, regardless of how that end is achieved, do you not feel a sense of self-satisfaction? So, am I saying revolutionary movements are filled with sociopaths? The fanatical mindset is certainly sociopathic to be sure and considering how fanatical humans can be, one wonders if we are all sociopaths... I have been called worse... and better.

In the end, what does it matter? Perhaps we are so far past the point of no return in our social development, we can no longer see the ends for what they are or can be. Maybe our genetic memories cannot allow us to see what we can ultimately be. Humanity is hardwired to destroy itself through passion... ironic that passion can lead to love and hate. Maybe even the passion of love is not the end either. Every time a prophet has preached the love and understanding of the universe, how has it ended? We still count the dead... we still pay the price for the sins of Mohamed and Jesus.. for Yahweh. The price of their love has resulted in death... from misunderstanding, from martyrdom, from intolerance... all in the name of love. Even though love might be the great treasure of the universe entire, it could well be the great darkness of the soul.

I have seen the welcoming love of the universe. While it is love, it gives without passion or prejudice. It might even be beyond our emotional control. We cannot exist, as humans, without our passion, and that may be our ultimate curse... my ultimate curse, to be true. Without passion, inspiration fades, even the desire of love diminishes. And so we sit... knowing we are past the point of no return, caught in the world we have created.

C.

Home

2008-07-26T20:32:00.003-05:00

Some of these thoughts are in Notes on the Reformation in the essay entitled (amazingly) 'Home'... some are new regarding my choices (or even lack of choices depending on how we define the nature of fate) about heading to Oceania again, this time to the other islands...

I remember the elves in Lord of the Rings (Return of the King specifically) saying 'The sea calls us home'. Home in elvish is Mar. Ironically, Mar or Mare in latin, means sea. Since Tolkien was a linguist, this was probably not lost on him. For me, the idea of home and the sea make sense, especially considering one of my most prized possession and what is inscribed upon it, and well, how I have always felt about the sea. It is evident in this blog, and my two books... it is about as good a theme as love, maybe even more important. Home is in all of us, and different for all of us. Quite simply, it is home, however we wish to perceive it. For me, home was a person (can still be a person), a place, an idea, a strand of beach, a walk in tranquility, or even a home-cooked meal. For now, home calls to me from afar, whether it be some 10,000 miles or 300... at this point, the distance is the same in my heart.

I have lost so much to home... to the sea, to my heart, and only want to see that quiet shore once more, regain a little of what was lost, hold on to the Mar of my soul, whether it be truly a home or the sea itself... or both. I suspect these musings will not be lost as well on those that read this, for anyone that does should know me by know, and know how I feel in these matters. For the less informed reader, I can only tell you to follow the calling of home whenever you can... you never know when the idea of home may change, or simply can never be reached again. Embrace it... home, sometimes, is all we have.

For my part... at least now I have the will and means to do what is necessary and right... for once the two are in accord in my heart, even if my soul sometimes disagrees...

C.

9/14

2008-07-24T18:25:00.003-05:00

I had talked about heading back to the Southern Hemisphere and Australia or New Zealand ever since I left the last time... well, while I do talk a mean game, now, I can back up my words. On September 14th, I am hopping a flight to Auckland to spend at least a couple of months with the Kiwis. I had not spent more than a couple of days there before, and I had spent so much time in Australia, it was only fair I give them a chance. At any rate, it was time for me to leave a lot behind, take a glance toward a region I had always considered a second home, and start following my feet... whether it is the true calling of my heart, I will see. Of course, one of my true callings has been a wanderer and explorer, sooo... time to do so again before I am unable to do so, lol.

C.

The Quiet of the Night...

2008-07-22T02:14:00.002-05:00

Just back from Metrocon and so tired I can't sleep... typical. I have a little break before Otakon and AnimeIowa, but the coming month will be... hard. I think I started mulling it over some tonight, hence the current entry, though it is more philosophical and just me trying to write, but... take it as you will :)

In the stillness of the early morning hours, the true quiet of the night, it all comes back to you. It strikes deep within the soul and churns, those moments lost, those thoughts you never wanted to have... you can find yourself drifting into a world forgotten, one of aches and sorrow. You see all the little mistakes you made in one day, one week, one... life and they strike at you... haunt you until it fulminates into overwhelming grief. Those little mistakes... so many or so few, but enough to outweigh so much good, for in the dark, we are those mistakes incarnate. We are also the good incarnate as well. The night grants us respite in its solace as much as it offers us genuine pain. The night cannot be blamed for our sins, no matter how much we are haunted by it. Our sins are our own, perfect in all the ways we can conceive them, for our sins might, to some, be perfect... it all depends on perspective. And perception can truly turn the key in the deep of dark within the night.

For my part, the ache draws ever closer even as I look to home... caught in the subtleties of the dark, the crossroads of my own pathways. I cannot hide from the truth in the night.... I can only face what has been wrought and... decide. In the end, I have decided, not for the sake of others (though it still bears heavily upon the burden of my heart), but because I am a decent man who deserves better than what I have been forced to accept in the quiet of the night.

Such matters, of course, fade before dawn... and the choices start anew. At least that is what we tell ourselves when we hide from the dark.

C.

'Til The Stars...

2008-07-16T12:34:00.000-05:00

I wonder what will happen when the stars grow cold. What happens to our promises? What happens to eternity? Will all that we shared be false in the cold of the void... in the stillness of entropy? Can love survive the end of time? All that has been given to the stars, all that our soul can endure, waits, but only for so long. We are the universe in microcosm, and it is us... we can only do so much, but only for so long. Or... what happens when entropy consumes us? Do we begin again? Have we done so before, maybe an infinite number of times? Maybe that is the great mystery of what awaits... in death, creation begins anew.

So, when I have said 'I would have loved until the stars grew cold...', does it have less meaning knowing what happens when the stars finally do grow cold? Do the words ever have less meaning even when we forget? Does it matter so long as creation remembers us? As long as love waits for us, as long as we are loved by the beating heart of the universe, and as long as... we can begin again, then it must matter. Then again, we could just be cosmic motes with no understanding... though, I hope not.

'Til the stars grow cold, my friends...

C.

Toward the Precipice

2008-07-15T23:22:00.003-05:00

I think I should have posted this sooner than the other new entries, but... I had forgotten, and trust me, I'm not thinking of jumping, most of the time, lol. Just a little meditation on the abyss, so to speak.

Have you ever stood upon the edge... waiting to take that deep breath before the plunge? What do you see when you are at that edge... who do you see? What faces do you remember as you stare into that deep abyss, knowing what might soon consume you? Do you see the loves, the lovers, the hopes and dreams of worlds so recent and so recently forgotten? Do you see the sadness of those worlds, the agony of suffering? Do you see the suffering of others... do you even care? You know you are about to take that breath, stare into it all. You see it... see them waiting, calling to you. Or are they calling... waving you off? Again, do you care? It is your suffering after all. You know them, but do they know you? They think you do not have the will, the desire, the heart... they do not know the depth of your spirit. How can they? Are they you? Are they standing upon the precipice with you?

Should you take that plunge even though what you leave behind is shattered, or should you take it with you, hoping to repair it along the way? Yet... you cannot. You are too busy enjoying the sensation of free fall, waiting to see what awaits within. Do you care about anything but the flight of fancy? Do you know anything but the delicious rush of pure ecstasy? Do you even want to see the world around you? All that matters is the high... the jump, the deep breath that awaits. The problem is, of course, what is left behind. Who do you leave when you drop into that perilous though delightful dark of wanton abandon? Who knows what you feel in the end?

I know the end, you see. I have seen the deep of dark within the spirit... I see you all in your lives, hoping for something else, something greater even. The problem, alas, is the abyss. You cannot run from it, cannot go around it... once you stare into it... you have to face it. The plunge might be exciting. It often can be. Perhaps even... sensual to a degree. The sudden stop, though, when everything falters and flails, when all comes tumbling down... cannot be ignored. We must all face it, all of us, for we all drop into the abyss, sometimes far more than we would like. Do it enough, and you never come back... my brother did not. I nearly failed... twice. Others, they have their own stories of oblivion to carry with them.

I stand again. The wind, so cool upon my face. I feel the weight behind me, pressing me closer to the edge. I almost embrace it, for I have been in this place before and fear it yet again. What to do... What to do?

I can hope... but hope seems to have no more place in my world. It stares back into me, Nietzsche's words howling in my skull. What choice do I have? What choice do we ever have? I could tell you all everything... I could, but you have to listen with a new heart, as do I. At least I have the dreamy sensation of the plunge, the beauty of interminable bliss without and within. It is my respite before I live in the moment of my sins...

I have stared too long. And yet... I wonder if they see it? I wonder if you see it? But is it enough? Is it worth the fall? Can you hang on to one simple thought in the embrace of the dark? Will our own abyss let us this time? I have no easy answers. If I did, I doubt I would be standing upon the edge, leaning out upon the precipice, waiting to take that deep breath...

C.

Ascending Jacob's Ladder

2008-07-13T23:31:00.001-05:00

'Love is the great treasure. It is what we come here to feel, and every bit of it that can be taken must be taken... Most everything is forgotten in death. The names, the facts, the achievements, the failures, all are left behind. But not love... Jacob's Ladder has another name in heaven. It is Love.' -- Whitley Strieber, 2012

I just finished reading the above book,2012, last night after buying it Friday night. As one might guess, it was quite engrossing and while not terribly plausible in places, appealed to my love of conspiracies, aliens, parallel universes, the apocalypse, and the nature of the soul. Indeed, the book revolves around the concept of a war of souls, a little far fetched at times, but entertaining. Still, I was a bit surprised to find such an engaging passage (the above one quoted) and one that mirrors much of what I think and what I write about the idea of the soul. While semantically different, conceptually I think the author and I are in agreement on matters of the soul, at least one part of it. And the idea of leaving behind everything except what matters most in our soul, in the core of our being is seminal to the idea of a universe that loves without end. The soul... the love that exists in the soul is the eternal part of our existence and the eternal part of creation. Love can be forever... it is immortal so long as it is freed from the bounds of mortality itself. I, and many other good writers, have thought eternal love a brilliant illusion... but we can sense it, can't we? That kind of love is freedom in the truest sense of the word. The strange thing is really that I had written about this before I even thought to pick up the book. While it dims some of my own originality, it gives me comfort that others might be able to see the universe in a similar manner and add their own unique light to the equation.

I wonder, how close are we? How far up the ladder, so to speak, can we ascend? Do we have the will to go further... can we leave it all behind for the sake of love itself? Can I? I have seen it before in the calm of many resplendent days, the beauty of an eternal sea, the rest beneath the shade of trees... They were but a glance of what can await, a promise of something that maybe only the soul can truly understand when freed from the bounds and concerns of mortal life. Except... our thoughts create love. It is our mortality that is perhaps the essence of love made manifest, or maybe love creates the soul. I think it is certainly the reason for the soul, but then all romantics think such things. A universe borne of love itself... a truth worthy of the journey we all face. I admit, all this can be quite idealistic, and I am maybe no closer to the truth than any other. Understanding and doing are two very different things, alas. Still, in the part of me reaching for the next rung on the ladder, the part of me that struggles in the journey to another place, to the heart of love borne within all of us... I know. It might be enough to help me move from simply understanding. I hope it can be for all of us.

C.

Walking the Long Road

2008-07-12T01:16:00.001-05:00

Just an aside: I know this is the title of my blog, but nothing else seemed appropriate :)

The path we walk is lined with the voices of the distant past, our own past, the present, and a future which is always concealed until it merges with the present. Those voices are the words of time itself. They are the rocks we stop and pick up and examine along the way, a seashell that might be more enduring than another, a glint of starlight dancing upon calm waters, or the gentle calling of the wind from a distant, verdant shore. As we walk, we can choose to leave our own words for time to hear, for the posterity of those that might decide to pick you up one day and see how extraordinary you were to generations hence. Our legacy is not the visceral monuments of our arrogance and perceived greatness, but in what we carry with us... what is unique in all of us.

I have walked a longer road than some, and taking into account so many lives lost to the sea, to time, to darkness and to light, well, I think I am closer to its end. While it is true I still have much to learn, and I think of the humility of Sir Isaac Newton in that regard, I have seen enough to understand how little I really understand. Even in recent epiphanies and discourses of enlightenment, so much remains unanswered. This is well, though. The true mysteries await... out there. Another journey once I have reached my rest at the end of this long road. Perhaps I do understand one truth, though. When that new journey calls, I am ready. For all the pain, the hurt, the highs, the lows, the anger, the suffering, the love, the passion, the sheer beauty and delight this world has offered and given me, and for all I may lack in real wisdom... one day, it will be time. Few of us, I think, ever come to such an accord. While it grants me some peace in many things, I do have a ways to go in certain matters. But maybe that is what I must learn when I finally see what awaits beyond the heart of creation itself.

I have no idea where this sense of... peace, I guess, especially in light of many recent events, came from, and why I had to write this now. I admit, I have thought about this, seen some of it in moments of... self-transcendence, for lack of a better word, from time to time. I certainly see it in the words I have given to myself and others, and I feel it in so many places, some still hidden, others concealed... again, part of the beautiful process. So much has been revealed, how can I not embrace the eternal in all of us? The truth... the truth differs for each one of us, of course, but it is still the truth that waits. It waits at the end of all our long roads.

So, if this is my legacy... I think I can accept it.

C.

Silence of the Heart

2008-07-10T23:16:00.002-05:00

Since my new blog has difficulty with adding comments, I thought I would add this new piece as a new entry and move fresh from here... maybe its better that way. I always enjoyed the camaraderie on this blog, regardless of present circumstance. Maybe it can help me again. So, on to a new philosophical extant of a piece that may or may not ramble... just a little wondering, not too personal :)

'Silence of the Heart'

Sit...
See a moment not yet imagined,
Hold fast in the quiet before dawn.
Drink in the wonder of creation
Lest it fall away into the void
between the stars.

Wait...
Were it possible to do so,
Reach between the seconds.
Yearn within an instant of revelation
Before it dwindles in the resplendent repose
of eternity.

Dream...
Seek an understanding of the heart,
Know what awaits amid such calm.
Give all to what can only be imagined
Perhaps then the illusion will finally
fade.

Love...
Even within the silence of the heart.

C.

The Book Page and Newer Blog

2008-06-03T16:03:00.003-05:00

Just wanted to let anyone know that still pops by I am still writing at another blog and the following link also is the storefront for my new book, a compilation of commentaries and poems that I had written for me... and others.

Anyway, the link: http://stores.lulu.com/powellpublishing

C.

Complete

2008-05-13T01:11:00.003-05:00

What makes a person whole?
Something deep within the quiet of the soul?
Who can make this person a complete being?
Can anyone?
Are any answers good enough?
I think... my answers have some meaning, but fail now and then
I am a frail, flawed human man.
I love completely yet fear its loss... I want no condition
And yet,
I hurt... the definition of expectation
The hurt comes and goes... ideally,
I am more on the other side, near the rest of the shade of trees
pragmatically, I drift near such a perfect shore
The water that sometimes does not know it has been broken
By the rock...
Can anyone truly be complete in the face of their struggles?
Do we actually have the wisdom?
We all need the spark, the light of the soul...
We cannot do it alone
The idea does not make me whole... no, not at all.
She and the idea are one.
But, I think I can rest for awhile, near the edge of a
Midnight sea under the shade of trees overlooking
A perfect shore.

Ideally, of course :) But we don't live in an ideal world... still, I do so because it is the right thing... it has always been so... I can live with that... of course, the raw truth of it is that I have always lived with it. My idea and the person are one, so I always live with it, no matter where they go, or have gone, or what road I travel... I remember for both of us, for all of us... that way, the universe remembers and loves... and that, well... is worth living with :)

C.

This Long Road

2008-05-10T22:11:00.003-05:00

I have rarely referenced my blog title... it has been referenced in another post on another blog. It is not that I am truly referencing that entry she wrote, but well, thinking about my long road recently, and the future I face and am facing. The days slip by, and what was is further removed, and more and more I perhaps seem weaker and weaker on the days that just hurt, and not even days, just odd, simple moments of... 'huh, wow, I didn't think of that' like today when I wandered into the store where I bought a ring for her, well, the ring I guess. Sometimes, I wake up and think I should tell her something neat or odd or dorky and reach for the phone... instead, I let it sit because I must, what I want to say often waits and I sometimes forget... the thing is I am her truest friend (and mine as well, no matter what has happened, some great hopes are worth clinging to, this is one :) and I feel a little uncomfortable, nervous, and awkward as if I am cutting into her time. She never says it, but I think I sometimes feel it... not like when we had to (and sometimes I had to) pry each other off the phone... now, it's me... go figure.

I think of the changes of the last couple of weeks... I know I have gone from sounding desperate (most of the time) to resigned to accepting, though the acceptance still breaks my heart more than I would like. I wish that part could change. I know that she has changed, is changing, and this is all well... I have as well. At first, I thought it was regression (and some of it might have been, perhaps even understandably so) but now, I understand so much more about the nature of love and even my own heart. Indeed, I can say I love her even more than ever now, irony of ironies. My love, while still romantic (and that would be hard to change about my nature, and I would sooner not love than lose that part of me) is the culmination of what I always wanted it to be... a higher, deeper love that can transcend the pain, the kind of love that inspires and has inspired, especially from some of my writings of the past week. For that part, I am eternally grateful. When I see her next, it would be my fondest wish for her to see this light she helped create and know what her love and my love has done for me. We have argued about taking each other back, so to speak (me wanting and her against it of course) but I realize it is false to ask in the first place. To go back to how it was is to deny the evolution of the spirit. But to move forward together, if that were possible somewhere along this long road, means taking what was so good about our lives before and uniting it with the spirit of what we have learned and what lay ahead... Perhaps that is too idealistic and naive... well, what kind of hopeless romantic would I be if I weren't idealistic? :)

In all this, I know she understands the honor in my heart I have for her and how she has honored me by simply enriching my life. Her mere presence enriches me. Maybe I am a foolish throwback to another time, but I think love, when it is honored so, can never escape a person. It is a blessing that helps calm me even in my sorrow as I continue to face this long road.

C.

Her Perfect Shore

2008-05-07T16:34:00.005-05:00

'Her Perfect Shore'

My love drifts upon her perfect shore...

A dream... a gift from happier times
Landscapes form in the hopes of fantastic days
Life... enfolded in joy.
Enraptured thoughts, blissful
Yet so unaware.

My hope rests amid her calm embrace...

A memory... forged when the world was new
Desire manifests in the instant before a kiss
Comfort... tangible and real.
Indelible wonder, unending
Yet so fragile.

My spirit understands her passionate soul...

A place... a refuge created within the hearts of stars
Affection revealed in tender accord
Peace... a yearning complete.
Gentle movements, heavenly
Yet so unaware.

My love drifts upon her perfect shore...

C.

The Words and Time

2008-05-06T12:20:00.002-05:00

I am still working on finally compiling and extending my many essays and poems into actual book form. Whether it will see the light of day is certainly up for debate, but is what I need at the moment to keep going. It has been difficult to take my own advice in writing, but I try, and indeed oft times try too hard, hope too much. I think way too much, but as anyone who has read my work, you know I am a true thinker... it's part of me.

The words, my word and the words I write are so much part of me I cannot contain it... even if no one else truly understands. I given so much to the words, to understanding them, to living them. I wonder what they have given back to me...

C.

The Gulf Betwixt Our Hearts... For Now

2008-05-04T15:21:00.003-05:00

Even while compiling my series of blog posts/essays in order to deaden some of what I lost, in order to feel whole again... and just to write because I need to, my mind and heart drifts, whether I want it to or not. She tells me she feels the same about me, with one unique difference, one that still hurts, and I know it hurts her. It has created a gulf in my heart for now, and has strained my affection for her, and fear it will strain our friendship. I know that she does not want to lose that, and does not feel she has (and for my part, I do not want that either). Still, I think we are both conflicted, though not in the ways she might guess. She loves us both, but not in the same ways, not with the same heart, but the mind and heart have difficulty reconciling some of the little details. Of course, this is only what I can see, and I admit with a little blinders as well. On the other hand, she is my best friend regardless, and I am concerned for her, even if it might be misplaced and perhaps colored by my love for her. I do want the best, truly I do... right now, I know I am not the best for her... the thing is, I once was, and it digs at a man, into the core of their being, especially considering how close we were/are. It is possible I am just wallowing in the mire, the scorned lover, etc... but I am also her dearest friend, though I haven't been much of one lately... if one can understand, but it still pains me that I haven't been the friend I should, especially since all she wants is to be the friend she was and will always be to me. Our bond is unique in many ways, and deeply personal which is why I am so deeply moved. That part I cannot change for now. What I can do is ease her burden, and heal what I can and promise that we will be what we can when we see each other next.

C.

Truth

2008-05-02T18:36:00.002-05:00

Truth is an ugly and beautiful thing... we seek it, endeavour for it, hide from it, and conceal it. All in the name of truth at times. That is the truth of what I have endured the past few weeks, and the truth of what I have known for over a year, and what seems longer. Truth is a metaphor of our lives, and has become our lives... it shapes us, and can destroy us. Truth, to me, is not necessarily honesty... one can be honest and still conceal the truth, especially if it does a greater good. Still, I wonder about such karma in that accord. I wonder about myself in that accord. What has it done for me, aside from make me write more, feel like the person I was what seems so long a go... what good can it do for me in the future?

The truth is... I only knew what was true in her, and though the answers may forever be concealed in me, and in her, I still know it to be true.

C.

What seems a lifetime ago...

2008-05-02T00:12:00.002-05:00

Writing has always left an indelible mark upon my soul, and upon the souls of others, though I think I have forgotten for a time just what writing does for me and has done. To that end, I am going to take a lot of the essays I have written and re-write them and add a few more, and compile them, adding them with some poems and create... something. It's time. I have wasted my time and talent for far too long. Even if I fail and it is not well received... I can finally say I wrote my book (aside from gaming supplements for LARPS). This is something that has lain dormant for so long, and awaits at the end of this long road, hoping I would notice. I did not see it for so long, but the thoughts still percolate in the back of my mind, in the breadth of my soul. I think I would be doing myself a disservice if I did not enhance and expound upon my (for now) disjointed philosophical extants. Further, I would be doing a disservice to those (in particular one) who has shared that philosophy with me and knows a little of what I know about the truth of understanding the universe at large.

So... let's see if I have it in me.

C.

On Love: Revisited

2008-04-30T23:06:00.002-05:00

In a far earlier post 'The Nevers That Consume Us', I took a more realistic approach to love and how we deal with love, but realized when I posted this essay, I have been more like what follows. In truth, one must be a pragmatic fusion of the two, and to be fair, I have never been one to take my own advice, my curse in serving others to a fault. These are things that I wish I could but wish I could not change. A dear friend told me, even after she pointed out all my terrible faults, she did not want me to change... and she was more right about me than I know. It happens when you give away the best part of you to someone. Yet, I remain a sap and a hopeless and helpless romantic anyways as I know that this essay truly defines the man I was, am and forever will be. Eventually, I might be more practical, but would that truly make me happy?

'On Love'

Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
that for thy right, myself will bear all wrong. --- William Shakespeare

The above line I think has summed up my nominal feelings about the subject of love, or it is at least the feelings and thoughts I should have about a complete love... perhaps even the love I wish I could have, and until recently, thought I did have. Sometimes it is the love I lost, and then it has become the love that I regret. On the whole, it is a confusing mess that has made me, more often than not, a hopeless and helpless romantic. It made me a person who has naively struggled with the hopes and dreams of my own love while bearing the burden of others in a cycle that repeats itself unendingly. Therefore, the words of the sonnet by Shakespeare are applicable and the root of my ideals, and also the root of my conundrum. I have borne so much that the ones I loved would be happy at the expense of my own happiness in many, many ways Love... or madness? In terms of unconditional love, then I should think that my actions were the truest expression of love, for I have loved without hope or expectation in return even when it tears all my strength from me. To me, love is giving, and recently, I was not giving, but expecting... expecting she would always be there, expecting a promise, expecting what I should have been giving in return. Indeed, now I am still expecting, though I want to give... I want to give of my heart and release myself from the sorrow of such unconditional desire and love. So, I ask myself again... love, or madness? Perhaps a little of both.

Being thusly a romantic, I have done so many odd things for the name of love. I have composed sonnets in the middle of a crowd just to get a woman's attention. I have read and sent poems to many a woman if only to help them understand the nature of love and still never expecting in return. I have written at my most passionate for one I loved. I left the one I loved because I was too cowardly to face my fears and stay, forever altering my life. I have created a bond with someone that can never be broken (though has been strained to a point) and, for now, it is not enough. Through all this, what drives me is more what I can imagine about love, and about my ideals of love. Needless to say, reality is far different than what we imagine, a pain that I have suffered too much it shames me too admit. If anything, I have become more pragmatic than I would like and yet, I cling to some insane optimistic and oft times suffocating ideal. Many a lesser man would have given up the ship and hardened their heart. Me, well, that would be worse than death.

So therefore, I make myself suffer because I am a little too idealistic and hold myself and others to a higher standard for the sake of a love that might not be possible. Well, it is possible. Alas, the world did not see fit to allow it to continue in the manner it should have. Of course, her life turned out great and that pleases me. And I then regretted what I lost only to think to find it again but then lose it because I sacrificed too much for the sake of the one I loved. She was also insane, but that is another matter entirely. In the end, only the idea of love was left, and I was left holding the bag, but the bag was filled with a bunch of annoyed cats :) Finally, when I did not think I could feel like the romantic I once was, I could and did. Yet, it was not enough; however, what was shared gives us the hope (um... mostly me at this point) that it could be again somewhere down the road. Maybe in an ideal world, too, but ideals are what makes me the person I am... Hope is my waking dream as Aristotle once wrote. I hope, though I understand.

One might think that my experiences have made me bitter and remorseful. I admit that bitterness has its place, but only for a moment, for it will consume you. I cannot say if I am past remorse and bitterness, though it shames me. I think that it will not consume me, and this, too shall pass. On the other hand, it can be that this has been true to a degree, for it has made me wary of what seems wonderful because I fear it could not be again... and again. I am sure all romantics deal with this in their lives. I know we do. Unfortunately, that has been why many a romantic has died far too young (um, not that I am going anywhere). It is perhaps their hallmark and the source of their great strength, in writing and creating emotion. And I refer to romantics in general, not just myself. Nor am I saying my words are any better than others. To me, the romantic has been through so much that they have no choice but to have an outpouring of emotion in love. It appears in everything they write, be it an essay, short fiction or a poem. It is a part of who they are and of who I am. The romantic has a connection with the emotion of love itself. It is both wonderful and yet deeply tragic.

It is said that experience is the best teacher. Therefore, I feel my experience has given me an insight into love that I did not have as an idealistic kid of nineteen. As a bit older and though less wiser man of thirty-five, I know better; however, when I write and have written especially in the past year or so I longed to be that boy of nineteen... A boy with stars in his eyes who knew what could be forever. Sometimes the man I am has held me back, forced me to be to practical and less giving of who I am. I have always wanted to tap into that fountain of emotion created by connections beyond words. I have achieved that in the strangest of ways, much to my undying gratitude and love, and my abiding sorrow. We are what the words make us, and the words are all we know and all you should know about me. I have been the water that does not realize it has been broken by the rock... for good or ill, this is my love.

Well, I think I have said enough of what I know of love, which probably not that much in the end. I hope you take from this what you will, for it is my offering to posterity, such as it is. All that I truly know of love is that it is amazing and that somewhere, in the depth of my soul, at the heart of the universe beyond time itself, it can last forever.

"Only those whose lives are so brief can imagine love to be eternal. You should embrace that remarkable illusion... I think that it is the greatest gift your race has ever received. " --- Lorien, Babylon 5

Introspection

2008-04-26T19:20:00.004-05:00

'How do you go on... when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend... some hurts that go too deep.' -- Frodo, Return of the King

In many ways, sometimes you just need to write, especially when you have not really written in awhile, or written in a way you used to do. On some levels, I think I forgot how to do this, how to sit down and let the words pour out, let the passion overtake me, and put the fear aside. Somehow, I let that part of me rest for a time, and it was a good rest for its part. Still, nothing motivates a writer when you reach such a point, where understanding, loss and the gulf it creates collides. One year ago, poetically at least, I gave away the best part of myself for all the right reasons, the best reasons. I would have been fine with that and to an extent, the best part of myself still resides with the one who waits on the shores of a midnight sea.

I suppose the problem is that everything is too raw, so exposed and the chasm might just be too deep within my heart, at least for now. Yet, I have to let some of this go and put it to page. My thoughts and dreams of hopes of love would wander and consume me. Hell, they may still, but as a writer, this is the easiest and cheapest form of therapy. Regardless, therapy is something I never wanted, these are words I hate with more fury than all can be mustered. This is a moment I dread, sitting and writing into the ether in the hopes my words will not be forgotten. To be true, they must, for they are only words and my words, while at time entertaining, thought-provoking and even romantic, were never hardly earth-shattering. Indeed, I ramble too much, wax tangential, and over explain the obvious even to those who get it. The lecturer in me I suppose.

Now, I sit and wonder... contemplating my path, knowing the sad truth of it all yet hoping that the hurts do not go too deep, and that time can mend this gulf, this hurt.

I leave with words I always hope to hear:

'Tye Selma Ullume Nonin Mar.' (if you can read Elvish, then you understand :)

C.

Tides

2008-04-24T09:45:00.002-05:00

For the one who will forever be my home...

'Tides'

'And the sea shall grant men new hope as sleep to dreams'-- Columbus

In the calm of resplendent days
So sure of what would never end,
Hope seemed unending
Joy made complete...
Within the solace of hearts forever entwined.

Amid the wake of the water's edge
Not heeding the change in the winds,
Thoughts became disjointed
Moments concealed...
By the sound and fury of the murky shore.

Beyond the current of this life,
Unsure of what may yet still be,
Hope has its place
Joy need not be forlorn...
So long as these hearts remain forever entwined.

C.

Awakenings and Glad Tidings

2008-01-14T19:00:00.000-06:00

'Awakening'

A caress, so peaceful,
Elegant and vibrant…
Wondrous, your touch
Holding close, your scent
Filling this soul,
Even within the quiet of the
Heart.

A breath, so gentle
Calm and warm…
Comfort, your presence
Glimmering, your eyes
Easing this spirit,
Though the miles keep us
Apart.

A woman, so incredible
Beautiful and dazzling…
Perfect, your love
Unyielding, your hope
Yearning for a time,
Caressed together by the warmth of
Dawn.

A dream, but fulfilled…
Even within the quiet of the
Heart.

Only You Will Never Know

2007-09-07T14:43:00.000-05:00

Some of you might have seen this before, but I wanted to post this again since some have not seen this, and it was one piece that really helped put a lot of my pain from long ago to rest.

I wrote this before I left for Australia the last time, but it is about what was left behind the first time I was in that country. A large part of my heart remains, no matter how many times I return and leave, and she will never know... but that's ok. On the other hand, I often wish she would read this, just so she would know the reasons she would never know.

'Only You Will Never Know

Are we happier now?

Our love the price I paid
In silence... In agony
Our love the cost of duty
To what? Home?

Am I stronger because?

Our joy was made incomplete
For reasons beyond the moment
Only now understood
But in the end?

Did we feel again?

Our hopes were reawakened
In the dreams of other days
Wondering... waiting
In the shadows of our memory.

Are you happier now?

Our love swept clean
In the fires of rebirth
Our life forgotten
Lost in the wake of time.

Would you care to know?

Who I am...
Is because of you.

I do not think you will ever know.

C.

Crucible of Memory

2007-09-07T14:33:00.001-05:00

Sometimes when you see the future, for whatever reason, it can feel like a dark place, especially as you reach deeper into the twilight of your life. This poem, a slight revision of an older one of the same name, captures that to my mind, for when we have forgotten everything, all seems lost, the universe still remembers... and loves.

'Crucible of Memory'

Night falls harshly on our lives,
Memories of the sun warm upon our face.
So dim in this chilling landscape,
A darkening form languishing, haunted
By an image... so sweet
Yet long forgotten,
Words frozen in the crucible of time.

Future's days slip away in shadow,
Twilight remembering all we have known.
So far from fantastic hopes and dreams,
A gentle heart suffering, distraught
By a love... so incredible
Though fading into solace,
Words occluded in the fragments of time.

Tomorrow dawns tenderly within our soul,
The sun once again warm upon our face.
So amazing to sense what was lost,
A welcome reminder returning, fueled
By a memory... so true
No longer forgotten,
Words emerging beyond the edge of time.

C.

For You

2007-08-29T16:39:00.000-05:00

The title explains it all... for you.

'For You'

Time...

A memory of the unimagined
Lost in the wellspring of our hearts
A caress...
Brushing away our cares.
Your touch...
So passionate, so tender
A hope once lost...
Now found.

Soul...

A pulse tempered from starlight
Enraptured within the crucible of desire
A word...
Ushering our joy onward.
Your breath...
So delicate, so warm
Moments unfulfilled...
Forever changed.

Love...

A dream of a word bound in an emotion
Enfolded in eternal memory
Made manifest in
Your touch...
Your breath...
Your kiss.

C.

Sometimes Words Fail You...

2007-08-17T00:31:00.000-05:00

I admit it, for all my facility with words, they can fail me. Worse, when they fail me, it can have an adverse effect on others, and not the intended result. I suppose that is the irony of what I do and what I am. I can say so much with so little and so little with too much and maybe not enough at all. All I know is that I am better than those words, and should have known better; however, emotion often enters into these things and cause the failure of words. I know better now, but again, hindsight is the ultimate expression of a failure of communication, and as one who knows history, I should know the perils and pitfalls of hindsight.

Still, tomorrow brings hope as it often does... and that is always a good thing.

C.

Summer and Rebirth

2007-08-13T13:54:00.000-05:00

Well, summer finally has arrived in North Texas two months late (thank goodness, really, our electric bill was half of last year's this time) and the whole past week and most of this one has shaped/is shaping up to be a scorcher (I think 105 today with heat indexes over 110). Not near as bad as last year, and it is even supposed to get into the mid 90's by Saturday (yay, since I have an outdoor LARP event that day). Even still, the world can surprise you and make the heat of summer fade into memory.

'Rebirth'

All that I have known...

Lost in the quiet of my mind yet
Reborn in tender starlight
Cast gently
From the edge of time
Made manifest in the
Warmth of your
Caress.

All I can see...

Drifts upon currents of space
Revealed in passionate movements
Formed in the ebb and flow
Of the hearts of stars...
Connected by the
Light of your
Soul.

All I am...

Waited at the edge of memory
Borne in the fires of the unimagined
Until these moments
Of wondrous anticipation
Fueled by the light of the universe
Within your
Eyes.

All we are...
Has yet to be written
But rests within the welcoming arms
Of love.

C.

For Thy Right...

2007-08-10T15:40:00.000-05:00

I thought I would be posting on the lighter side thanks to doing a little more writing on other fronts, but I had a few thoughts and revisions about earlier essays, sooo... well, I guess I am entitled to change my agenda in the blog now and then :)

The title of the post comes from 'Sonnet #88' by the Bard (that would be Shakespeare, just in case :) and its ending lines, lines which are still my favorite lines from a poem ever: 'Such is my love, to thee I so belong, that for thy right myself will bear all wrong'. I have paraphrased it (and sometimes slightly misquoted it) over the years in essays and random moments, and every time I see it, I have to sit and think of it. I was thinking of those words earlier, thinking of other philosophical content, rummaging through past and realized I had no new spin on the matter. I had to smile a little, perhaps even wryly... maybe it means I finally understand what I had been trying to all along, what I understood instinctively when I read those words for the first time nearly twenty years ago.

I always thought Frodo's words in 'Return of the King' were rather poignant and alas, true: 'How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand, there is no going back?' Maybe, every now and then, you can go back... even if you do understand such things. I know I cannot physically be that person again (nor would I want to), but the person I am can learn a lot from someone I dismissed as far too romantic and hopelessly naive. Of course, he would think me too cynical and pragmatic, so I suspect it is a fair trade.

Have a great weekend,

C.

In at the Death

2007-07-31T18:47:00.000-05:00

Such a cheery title I know...

Well, while recovering from a little self-induced stomach issues (eating something I thought might cause some problems, typical), I was able to at least pick up the latest of my favorite author's books today: no, not JK Rowling for all you Lord of the Pre-Teen fans out there :) The author in question would be Harry Turtledove, and the book is the last of his Great War saga, called Settling Accounts: In at the Death. For those of you who do not know this author, Mr. Turtledove is one of the leading writers of counterfactual or alternate history. Most call it alternate history since counterfactuals tend to be non-fiction fiction, while alternate history is considered science fiction. The main difference is that he does not have to site his sources (though he could being a professor of Byzantine History at UCLA). Anyway, so far have been thrilled to read this final book in an 11 book saga spanning a world where the Confederates won the War of Northern Aggression in 1862 and went their own way causing a chain of events that leads to the CSA fighting the USA in the Great War, and in these last books a Second Great War (since the war is unnamed in the book, but for all practical purposes WWII).

While it is not my intent to actually review the book,(especially since I am not finished) I do recommend anything that Mr. Turtledove has written, especially his American History stuff. Indeed, one of his stand-alone books, Guns of the South is one of my favorite books of all time. All this being said, what actually got me to post about was the whole idea of alternate timelines, something I have written a little about and think of constantly. While it is nice to think that our hopes and dreams may not have been forlorn, that those we have lost might live on in another, parallel world, as many of those worlds might be a ruin of hell or the beauty of paradise itself. All it has taken is a misstep, a bullet gone awry or the wrong (or right) words said at the wrong time, and a world could have diverged with ease, creating?

Therein lies the question, this philosopher's search. I have wondered of their validity (and as a branch of history alternate histories are most valid) and of the possible dangers... of fragmenting worlds and souls. I suspect, due to the nature of quantum mechanics and my own philosophy I will have no answers in that accord. The best I can do is enjoy alternate worlds, perhaps write some counterfactuals myself in the hope of understanding the past through different futures.

C.

Twilight Struggle

2007-07-26T11:42:00.000-05:00

As usual, time seems to ever catch up with me, even when I am resting. But with a Crossroads adventure day this weekend and another show the next (at least it is just in Houston), my ability to update (more my ability to remember) has faded some. Still, I had a little time last night in between discussions of the coming game to try out a new game called Twilight Struggle: The Cold War. For those of you interested in such genres and the time period in history, this is a worthy entry into the genre. First off, it plays like a board and card game, and I would call it a card-driven board game since the board also determines card strategy. It is also a game of hard choices. Sometimes, in order to influence one country you must sacrifice influence or another event in the other because you have to play most of your cards in the turn, especially in the early turns. The game plays fairly fast, is moderately easy to learn (after 1 turn we pretty much had it down), and is an excellent representation of the time period. Further, all the cards have events taken direct from the headlines of the Cold War, a Space Race component helps you dump bad cards, and if tensions get too high, well... Defcon 1 is not the best option and ends the game. And in a nod to the great Cold War classic 'Wargames', one gets a little advice from Joshua/WOPR in one card :) Finally, the game is also divided into three phases: Early, Mid and Late Cold War, allowing more cards (and more variety) into the game, and some cards do recycle, but some are removed from play after played.

The main downside is that you can only play with 2 players, though I might recommend playing in pairs (as we did) to assist in the strategy and management of the markers. The game is marker intensive, but by time turn 8 rolls around it is a splendid sight to see how the influence is spread around the board (in our game, Europe was more or less a draw, though I had the advantage; we were screwed in Africa; the Middle East was a toss up; Asia was slightly to my advantage, but SE Asia was firmly in the hands of the Communist scum; and Latin and South America, with the exception of Cuba, was a fine example of the Monroe Doctrine).

In the end, I thought this was a great game and a great break from the norm, and I intend to play it a great deal more. If you need more information, I might have a look at the latest Knights of the Dinner Table (#128) for it posts a fine review (and more detailed) of this game, one in my mind that is as entertaining as the Risks, Civilizations, and Axis and Allies of the genre.

I might or might not be able to post before the adventure day, but I will certainly have a report of it by Sunday or Monday.

C.

Wherever The Road Takes You...

2007-07-17T18:35:00.000-05:00

Due to scheduling (and shipping) concerns, I have a one day reprieve before I head to Baltimore (which means we get there later and have less time to set up, but what can you do? We all bow to the whims of the Post Office and UPS :) While I am sure money is to be made, the show itself does not excite me as much as other shows... something about it just feels lame compared to others. And the city of Baltimore (at least the parts I have visited) have been alright, simply a general dissatisfaction with the con itself. Of course, if I sold more than just anime-related products we might skip this show and go to ComicCon in San Diego (and still might next year if the scheduling works out regardless), but I suppose we should take the guaranteed sales at Otakon over the toss-up (though likely) sales at ComicCon (I know I'd have more fun, not being a true anime fan anyways). At least the next three shows are in the same state, so a slight break from extensive traveling.

I know I have titled this blog, 'Walking the Long Road' but often times it feels like sprinting and wandering aimlessly combined. On the other hand, the road has allowed me to meet some unique people and I have been to some great places. And every now and then, I have even been inspired. For us types that depend on inspiration, that's not all bad :)

Have a great week and I'll see if I can update from Otakon. If not, the usual Egyptian blessing for the road :)

C.

An End to Love...

2007-07-15T17:02:00.000-05:00

How odd that I would blog on the same weekend after not writing for so long. Well, one never knows when inspiration takes you, even if it is a moribund inspiration at best. I had just logged out of Lord of the Rings Online, looked for a moment at my blog, then just started writing. Perhaps I had been mulling over the thoughts of such things, how we sometimes linger on in love even when we should not. I know I am guilty of this, and the romantic part of my will always want to press on even though the reality stares me plain in the face. So maybe this poem is more about me recognising the traits in myself... or I could have just felt like writing... nah, that would be too simple.

'End of Love'

Warmth... the gentle calm of your caress
Betrays little and yet so much
Your eyes, pleasant though distant
A smile tender but waning...
Movements lost in requited passion
Forgotten if only for this moment,
Suppressing this ache of the soul.

Light... resplendent in the face of 'morn
Denies nothing but shields so much
Your words, welcome though trying
An embrace furtive yet unending...
Ecstasy enraptured within fragments of joy
Searing our hearts for but an instant,
Holding fast to this end of love.

Echoing across the void of time...
I am forever haunted by the memory of love.

C.

Making Sense of the Present... or the Future... or Something...

2007-07-13T11:17:00.000-05:00

I just got back from my two week or so trip, coast to coast if you will, from Long Beach to Tampa, and getting ready to head to Otakon in Baltimore, at least that is the nominal plan. It has been a little tiring and sometimes fun :)

Of course, being on the road has given me a lot of time to think about the roads I have traveled literally, metaphorically and philosophically. I think I was too tired to really think about such things on the way back from Tampa, but every now and then a stray thought from the present, or was it the future, or the past jumped in? I always wonder about that... where my thoughts come from. Do I just formulate them from the ether of the void, or are they part of a collective past or future undiscovered, a cultural/racial memory if you preferl (actually, the term racial memory, at least in sci fi, was coined by Arthur C. Clarke in 'Childhood's End', which if you have not read, do). I admit sometimes I have no idea where the dreams, the memories and thoughts come from, maybe that is why I have to write them down or explore them in various mediums... admittedly, the blog has been suffering but I am still writing. On the other hand, I wonder if those thoughts are telling me not to ignore some of the things I do best for merely the things I enjoy. Is it selfish to want to write for enjoyment, though knowing my poetry or essays suffer in the short term? I presume it is, but do not care as much. I have thought about the matter, hence my actually writing these thoughts down now, and the odd fragment of a poem or two has rattled around in my brain, so I know what is still lingering, waiting to be explored, though suppressed for more immediate concerns.

I wish I were a better writer in that regard... I wish I could turn it on and off like some do. Usually, if I am writing in one style, the other lacks, and vice versa. I have been working to change that through integration in style, but the road, as many others is trying. Still, most of us writers have to walk such roads, so I guess I am not saying anything too new. As so many (and myself included) have pointed out, it's all been said before. It is just a matter of finding a way to say it in a unique manner. Maybe that is why these thoughts exist, drifting from moment to moment, future to present, past to... well, somewhere one hopes.

I will try and update when I get back from Baltimore, if not sooner.

Take care all,
C.

Not So Abandoned

2007-06-21T17:47:00.000-05:00

I think I might be able to start updating some more soon, though I do leave for practically 2 weeks on Tuesday for AnimeExpo and Metrocon, sooo if I get the chance and I am not too tired. A lot of the game writing I was doing has finished up to some degree, though I have some other projects to do as well. Still, I have not forgotten about the blog... much :) though I fear I have forgotten too many of my former readers, and for that you do have my sincerest apologies. I will try and do what I can to make it up to y'all in the future and visit like I should have.

But, like I've said before, just expect me when you see me, prolly easier that way :)

C.

To The New, and Possibly Confused, Reader...

2007-06-03T23:40:00.000-05:00

Though I have taken a bit of a leave of blog absence, I would like to take the time to welcome any new readers, since this is mostly an archival site of previous works and thoughts (but with some recent work as well, as is usually noted). I figured I would add this little addendum since I have been giving out this website address in some forums and in person.

As for the rest, A-kon just finished up and I am beat, physically and well, physically. Wound up spraining my knee a little when I decided to walk into a trailer hitch while unloading some product, but overall the con was great success.. High Five :) I am doing some writing for a LARP again (actually a new incarnation of one I wrote for before) and it is taking up a good amount of time, plus I have the summer con season to look forward to.

In any event, to any new readers, welcome and feel free to dig through the archives... for everyone else, I will do what I can when I can as things and time progress.

C.

All Good Things...

2007-05-16T15:08:00.000-05:00

Thank goodness for episode titles to 'Star Trek' and the like :)

Seriously, since the convention season is starting to kick up, and I am involved in several new writing projects, I am taking a bit of a hiatus. My original intent with this blog was to save some information from being destroyed and I have accomplished the mission. Of course, I have been able to add some new material and that has been grand, and will do so when I can, but for the foreseeable future I am not going to be adding much. Again, not that I have added much lately anyways, but I wanted to let everyone know what was going on with me. So, I am still writing, just not in a format conducive to blogs, but I still encourage rummaging through the archives and such, since it is still some of the best part of me :)

Take care, and I guess y'all can expect me when you see me.

C.

Whoops

2007-05-07T14:46:00.000-05:00

I guess I have been so busy nerding out on Lord of the Rings Online that I forgot to update my blog. Well, I have not done a whole lot, alas, though some new doors have been opened in other ways. More on that another time. This week will be mostly getting ready for AnimeCentral, and I have to leave early Wednesday, so we have to go ahead and get ready tomorrow night. I might be adding a second blog soon, mostly for the purpose of posting some chapters from a book I have been intending to write (if I can get around to it). Needless to say, it will be a lot of reading, so I want to keep it separate from this space.

Though it does not look like it from the schedule, the convention season is warming up, and after June, I will have something like 6 or 7 shows in a row. The extra income will be nice, but it will be tiring, if even a little fun.

Have a great week everyone, and I will try and post as I get the chance.

C.

Spider-Week And Other Ramblings

2007-05-01T12:52:00.000-05:00

Well, more and more people will be talking about 'Spider-Man 3' as the day draws near. I have to admit, even with the wimpy Topher Grace playing Eddie Brock, I am still looking forward to my favorite late 80's/early 90's bad guy, Venom. I think I am supposed to go see the film with my sister at a midnight showing but one never knows.

In further nerd news, I started playing the Lord Of The Rings Online game, and aside from some small hiccups that new games have, it is not too bad. I prefer it over Warcraft based on setting, though I am told the controls, quests and other details are similar. Well, go with what works, I suppose.

Everyone have a good week and enjoy the new month... I will try and post something with a little more substance soon.

C.

Shore Of A Midnight Sea

2007-04-28T22:08:00.000-05:00

I actually wrote this on the way down to Houston, since at a busy show (as this one has been) I rarely have time to write. Still, considering what has been going on during the week, and the fact I had been writing about my thoughts and path in this life, I wound up writing a little, and wrote something of a metaphorical piece for all the roads I have traveled and certain influences in my life... nothing specific though. Simply the people and places I have known and perhaps will know.

'Shores of a Midnight Sea and Other Ponderings...'

My love waits upon the shore of a midnight sea...
In such resplendent dreams I never knew.
She yields to moments unremembered,
A time, a place that would never be.

My love rests in the quiet of seaside towns
Lost amid the solace of shifting tides.
She embraces the distant, fragile winds
A heart, a life forgotten without a sound.

My love suffers all I have known,
Wandering the sterile wastes at world's end.
She forgives the roads I have traveled,
A fate, a man yearning for the calling of home.

My love waits upon the shore of a midnight sea...

C.

Change Of Pace

2007-04-26T13:12:00.000-05:00

Thankfully, I leave for Houston in an hour or so. The change of pace back to an anime show will be nice and I get to catch up with a few friends I have not seen in a bit. Still, I do have about 3000 pounds worth of anime swords that should be waiting for me at our hotel to be transported to the convention center. Fun, fun, fun. But it will be nice to get away for the weekend and perhaps even make some money :)

Oh, I should have wireless internet where I will be staying, so I should be able to at least check in (not sure about updating) this weekend some. But if not, have a great weekend all.

C.

Reckoning The Path I Have Chosen

2007-04-25T16:32:00.000-05:00

The funeral was today, and the service was typical of what some might expect for my part of the world. A lot of Bible verses and praying, a fine eulogy from my father (who was the eldest son), and some uplifting but sad music. It was no less or more than I expected...

When you see the world in ways the general populace does not, cannot, or will not see, you have a different view on the traditional end of things, and by traditional, I suppose I mean solemn occasions, or at least the ones we have made as such. As time drifted and listened to the words of the chaplain, my father, and others, I felt myself removed from the outpouring of sadness and emotion. Sure, I could be comforting, and was so, but I felt so distant, detached. And I am fairly close to most of my relatives, though some I had not seen in some time, but it was not like before, though this event was expected, not sudden and thrust upon me. I even felt more emotional when my grandfather died, even though I knew him far less than my grandmother. I suppose perhaps, like I mentioned in the prior post, I have accepted things as they are, and can perceive something of the unimagined that awaits.

As one who understands their path is to seek to understand, to learn why we are the universe made manifest, I know now why few try and understand such things and simply live their life without questioning. To step outside of mortality is to step outside of passion, joy, pain, and fear. In some ways, understanding makes one leave emotion behind. I have seen it in some philosophers and academics, and wonder if some of my passion, something I thought I really needed in my life, has been altered... become the desire for truth and knowledge. But where has love gone? Has it faded?

I stood dispassionately amid the sorrow and realised how lonely the path I have chosen truly must be.

C.

Illusion Of Mortality

2007-04-23T13:50:00.000-05:00

On a personal note, my grandmother, after a terribly long struggle with clear-cell cancer (forgive me, but I forget the actual name of it) passed away yesterday. While, of course, I am sad at her passing, I cannot help but be relieved that she is no longer suffering, for she had basically wasted away to nothing in the end. If I am unable to get to everyone this week, I do apologise in advance, for dealing with the funeral plus having to go out of town later in the week will make it busier than normal. I suppose, in that, it is good.

While the events of the preceding day helped urge this post onward, I had been thinking about this for other reasons, especially with the reminders of mortality in my home, art and photographs mostly, but a pervasive sense of such things seem to creep around this place. Maybe even around me. I often wonder if the illusion is our mortality and what awaits is the real journey, not that this is insightful at all, since so many before me (and I am sure after as well) have their views on afterlives. My thought is the wonder if it is all the extension of the same life... no before, no after, just differing fragments of the same soul, and perhaps we are just not evolved enough or perceptive enough yet to discern or handle the actual reality. I think that some might be able to perceive a little of it, some of us (like me) can perhaps imagine it, or at least explain an imagining, and some are so connected they seek to get to that reality as quick as possible.

I think that mortality is comforting in a way, too. We know that whatever we have experienced here will end, at least in the way we conceive it. And for some that is simply the way it is and always will be. For some, they must have the darkness of hell or the wonder of heaven. Others are simply reborn, sleep, or fade into dust. Others move on and take the next step, maybe even a necessary step to a higher consciousness. So much in this universe is unexplained and unexplored. It would be a shame to waste the knowledge, the material on an illusion of finality. Now, this does not mean I am excited or looking forward to my transitional stage, for I know the heartache that would be left behind, but I am comfortable with the inevitable. I may not be able to understand all aspects of the journeys I have undertaken beyond anything but fragments of dreams of worlds forgotten, but I still have time (as we understand it) perhaps to seek to understand, as I have always tried to do, or have done :)

C.

The Ever Popular Blame Game

2007-04-19T12:02:00.000-05:00

I commented in the introduction to a poem once, 'We are all to blame for the world we have created' ('Kingdom of the Blind' for those that wish a reference). Of course, some are more to blame than others, since their job seems to be to deflect all responsibility toward others and not themselves. The worst offenders are, to my jaded eyes at least:

1) Hollywood: They manufacture 'entertainment' (some of it good) and raise otherwise troubled people (actors) to the level of small gods, and never accept responsibility for their conduct and perception they give off to the world. But they will buy you off if they can, especially if it is the crisis du jour or ribbon of the month.

2) Media: They create the news that is fit to print or report without clue or fact, instead reporting 'good facts' and making them sound like 'true facts' (Babylon 5 fans should get that reference :) Indeed, it is the modern world of parasitic journalism that skews perceptions so badly that one cannot even stomach watching, reading or listening to these modern courtiers begging for the leftover favors from kings.

3) Advertising Executives: What? They are only the messengers, proving to the world what really sells and what we really want to be sold. I mean, who wouldn't want a body spray that will cause dozens of hot women to assault you randomly on the street, in grocery stores, or secluded island locales? And they would still sell tobacco on the air if they could... heck, they would sell nukes for air time if it were legal. Me, I would rather have the nuke than body spray, but I am a war-mongering apocalyptic that way :)

4) People: We're idiots to consume all the hype we are fed, and we just love to watch it all fall apart. The average person would rather sit around and watch the latest celebrity scandal, 'Lost' (admittedly a good show at times), 'Grey's Anatomy', 'Desperate Housewives' (hmm, maybe ABC is to blame), 'Surviving Dancing With Surreal American Road Rage Real World White Rapper OC Idol'... and live coverage of people dying than face reality. Escapism, thou art our altar upon we prostrate ourselves... and I am as much to blame too. I would rather roll dice or write or game... anything but listen to the drone and buzz of what we have created.

Needless to say, some of this was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but far too much of it is sad and true. Call it a little of both and take it as what you will, and perhaps a preview of things to come (a very, very distilled version of some essays/writing for the future).

C.

btw, I failed purposely to include governments... I didn't want to be too obvious :)

Writing... Just Not Blogging

2007-04-17T22:54:00.000-05:00

I know it has been a few days and I have been bad about checking on many of the blogs I frequent, and for that I do apologise (I should have some time later this week, though, since I am actually not going to be in Boston this weekend due to schedule changes). I have been writing a lot, finishing up a conversion and gaming materials for a D20 version of Robotech (a very cool 80's anime series for those that do not know), and while it is a simple home-brew version, I have taken great care to get the flavor and flow of the series, so that has been time consuming, though fun, especially when the playtest worked out pretty well, enough that I will make it a regular game. Also on the writing front, I have been working on a book/commentary idea, mostly in the formative stages, but I have written the introduction and much of the material in the book will be gleaned from many of my posts and essays, though expanded upon as I can. I really cannot say much more until I do the writing and the work will evolve as they often do. Suffice to say it will cover a spectrum of ideas and ideals, but my whole goal is to offer a path to understanding and solutions, whether far-fetched or not, but solutions nonetheless. We (people as a whole) complain about what is wrong so much and expect change from without, when it must start from within. This is what I intend to explore as best I can. I will be sure to let you all know how things go and perhaps post some excerpts as well. Anyway, that is the plan :)

Again, I hope to catch up more later this week and make my regular visits as I can.

C.

Near-Victory For The Weather Gods Of The West

2007-04-12T18:13:00.000-05:00

Well, I am finally back from the long haul of the Seattle trip, though some of us will be turning around and heading to Boston next week for a similar experience, and I do not know if I will be headed that way yet; however, I promised some highlights (and lowlights) of the Sakura-Con/Seattle experience and so I offer them to you, dear readers :)

Five Interesting/Strange/ and Otherwise Odd Things From The Journey to and from the Pacific Northwest:
(man, some long titles today)

1) The Weather Gods doing their level best to annihilate me and Dave with the a variety of plagues: In order: hail (on the way out), snow and sleet (Cascades), sand/dust storms (Central Washington/Eastern Oregon), snow storms/heavy blowing and drifting snow (Wyoming, the whole darn state), driving rain/thunderstorms (Kansas and Oklahoma), funnel cloud (Oklahoma), and Rainbow Death Beams (some of the most vibrant rainbows I have ever seen, looked like some sort of rainbow colored death ray, seriously).

2) Watching the failure of Testosterone at a local Mexican restaurant (Mama's I think the name was): Normally attractive women talk to my co-worker/friend Dave and this restaurant was filled with them, truly, but for some reason they all directed attention toward me and ignored him (this is not the norm, especially at the shows, he does get the lion's share of the attention, but such is the way of things). Then I noticed why... the place was filled with an intellectual vibe (or at least in the decoration of the place and the dress of the servers, so it only means so much I guess :) that was not lost on me. But the guacamole was very good, and I do know guacamole at least.

3) Link Master Shields (Zelda) are awesome and attract tons of attention (and sales :) Sometimes, you just get the right product. In our case, some nice shields and wooden swords that left our hand and went to the consumer in what seemed like seconds. We had 11 cases of swords shipped to us (about 250 total I guess) and sold every one... not what normally happens at an anime show.

4) Listening to 'Achilles: The Ecstasy and Agony in Eight Parts' by Manowar: I had never heard this song before until Dave played this quasi-speed metal band. Awesome, and totally appropriate. I am surprised more gamers are not Manowar fans, though they are late 80's, early 90's fare.

5) The 12 Egg Omelette at the Hurricane Cafe: Holy crap, that's a lot of omelette. And they cooked the bacon just right. Plus, we payed in the most unusual (or annoying depending on your point of view) way: 25 dollars in quarters and 5 dollars in half-dollars (someone paid for an item in 16 half dollars on Saturday).

Just another unique adventure to add to our annals of convention travels :) I will try and update some more this weekend and get back to some of my blog friends I have been missing. I still have a few things to take care of, and still a little worn from the trip (blast you, Wyoming :)

C.

The Way Back... Again

2007-04-09T08:39:00.000-05:00

I might have used this for a blog title, at least the first part of it, before (hence the again), so this way I do not feel to repetitive. I will have some more substantial and interesting information when I get back, but this is just a little update letting everyone know a) I was not able to get anything up for Poetry Thursday even though I wanted to (I was soooo tired all weekend) and b) all went well this weekend and I am about to be on the road for a 34 hour drive back (includes the time change, gaining 2 hours to get to CST again :)

I will be sure to post some interesting tidbits about my Seattle/Sakura-Con experience on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning... 'till then, have a great next couple of days and I suppose you can expect me when you see me... er, hear from me.

C.

Emulating My Blog Title

2007-04-03T11:27:00.000-05:00

Well, I am to soon be off, driving a long road (walking would be a little counter-productive) to Seattle, some 32 hours (give or take) away, about the longest drive in the US from Dallas (I am not sure if Dallas to the Maine-Canada border is longer, but perhaps close). So, my apologies in advance for not being in contact for about a week, though if I can find internet access I will be sure to check in and the like :)

Everyone take care, have a great week and a Happy Easter to those who celebrate it, or at least celebrate the break :)

C.

Pastimes

2007-04-01T15:54:00.000-05:00

I see great things in baseball. It's our game - the American game. It will take our people out-of-doors, fill them with oxygen, give them a larger physical stoicism. Tend to relieve us from being a nervous, dyspeptic set. Repair these losses, and be a blessing to us. ~Walt Whitman

When I look at the word 'pastime', it has an echo to me. It is a word that makes me remember time and place that has never existed for me, hazy days of youth that millions experienced, but not me really. Still, as one who embraces the past as much as the present (or as much of the present I can stomach and hope the future is not as revolting :) I see myself where I ought to be in those memories. Perhaps I have watched 'Field of Dreams' too many times, maybe I have gone to far too many batting practices on a lazy summer day just to hear the crack of the bat, and almost making the game itself a denouement.

In our ever insanely fast paced lives, it is nice to be able to slow down and breathe a little of life in, see it for what it should be. I certainly do not mind a fast pace of course, but the thrill of wasting a summer or spring evening listening to the sounds of the game, enjoying the camaraderie of strangers I always knew, for the ballpark makes all equals, and perhaps equally young in it eyes. While I do not have a Wrigley Field or Fenway Park, nor even a Polo Grounds, the game is still played more or less the same way, we all sing during the seventh inning stretch, and sometimes, we all reach into that collective memory, live in the world of the pastime, and for a few moments forget the frenzy and pace of our modern lives.

Of course, one never really thinks of these things while at the ballpark, but I suspect that is the point. And baseball does not necessarily have to be your pastime, but whatever the endeavour, I hope it brings you the same thrill I get every time I walk into the ballpark with the hop in my step as if I were eternally ten.

C.

Coming To A Planet, er... City Near You

2007-03-31T13:50:00.000-05:00

As the convention season is starting to spin up again, I thought I would add my list of shows where we will be recruiting... um, I mean selling fine anime products. We might be adding one in St. Louis, but I think it is too close to the date, and I might not be at the one in Boston, but should be at the others, and will most definitely be at Sakura-Con, Anime Matsuri, AnimeCentral, and A-kon. We are also doing a small show this weekend in Columbus, (Anime Punch), but the boss is handling that.

Anyway, if I disappear for a few days (aside from family concerns), these are the reasons why... nothing to do with the Rebel Alliance, nothing at all :)

C.

Matters Of Time

2007-03-29T21:15:00.000-05:00

Again, sometimes you just have to write and let it all out... a little stream of consciousness, not quite a departure, but just a little something I was thinking about in relation to time and other things that seem to step outside of time every now and then.

'Memory... Moment...'

Fades with the instant
lost between seconds uncounted
Heralding calm that endures
yet drifts listless restless
So wondrous
This gift a spark never
yielding but fluid
elusive and constant...

Memory and moment brush
glance caress
yearn seek need...

Awake...
delicate movement inured
beyond simple passion
though waits in words
Unclaimed
brilliant enfolding
tenuous though tender
lost between seconds...

Future and moment collide
bespeak embrace
In memory of ecstasy...
Memory moment future
glance caress
yearn seek need.

C.

Books That Changed This Life

2007-03-27T20:39:00.000-05:00

First off, I would like to thank M for inadvertently inspiring this post for while commenting on her most recent post I thought a little bit about books that inspired me/changed me for the better (worse could be for another time, I suppose, but I really can't think of too many books that have done that... depressed, sucked, needed to be used for toilet paper, yes, but not made me a worse person). So, I thought I would talk about a few books that have helped inspire the person I am, sort of made me think about some of the deeper things, and allowed me to really see. Of course, much of this change comes from within, but certain writings can show us the door that needs to be opened. Whether we open it or not is up to us.

1) Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter by Thomas Cahill: I did not read this until fall of 2005 (I think it came out in 2004 anyway), but since then, this excellent book, especially the first two chapters, have stayed with me. Cahill proposes that the Greeks showed us how to Fight, Feel, Think, and Party, and that is why they matter... for some, the bit on partying alone might make them matter. However, the chapters 'How to Fight' and 'How to Feel' deal with the Iliad and The Odyssey respectively (and shows the order, unlike many American high schools, in which they should be read), and the idea of such emotions in Western literature. From a philosophical point of view, the books are the thread of Homer's life, first as a young man reaching into the world and doing what young men do. The words and images of The Iliad are that of a young man, and you get a sense of hopefulness that is borne of youth throughout the poem/book, even as you know that most of the participants are doomed but a few.

Some of those few are chronicled in The Odyssey and I need not explain the tale for it is one of those books that we all know (or should know). The interesting thing about The Odyssey is the fact it seems more primitive (hence it being taught first) or not even written/composed by Homer. What Cahill proposes, and what seems to be the real sense after reading the book/poem again, is that The Odyssey is the work of an older man, one who has seen much, and one who simply longs for his rest, one who longs for home. The wanderer that is Odysseus, after so much travail, earns his rest and the horrors of war, the rage of Achilles is finally stilled in the land and woman he loved so much. In many ways, this is the essence of life, the journey that we all undertake and so many times falter, but we are always seeking, longing, and that emotion, that hope, was borne amid the waters of a wine-dark sea.

2) Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clarke: Fiction can do as much to alter the perceptions of the soul as non-fiction (especially if one feels holy books fiction more than non-fiction, but that is something we all must decide individually), and Arthur C. Clarke has been one of those authors that has continually made me question the ideas of time and memory, and the beauty of Childhood's End was that it was written 20 years before I was born. Clarke proposes the idea of racial memory for the past and the future and that things in our past that we fear are not necessarily borne of the evils of the past, but the tide of the future. The book also preys upon the fears of nuclear holocaust and ufos in general at the time, but it remains a classic for the questions it forces the reader to ask of itself and humanity in general.

3) Robots and Empire and Foundation and Earth by Isaac Asimov: I must discuss these books together for they are linked in plot and theme, and one is the direct inheritor of the other, finally linking Asimov's Robot novels with the Foundation series. As literature, it is masterful, as philosophy and ethics, the novels are examples of what we can be if we truly put our minds to it (in some cases literally). While these books were written in the 80's, they are borne of the mindset of the 50's and the novels from that time. In that, both books are classic science fiction, though a little updated. Still, they keep the feel of those fantastic stories of a generation past.

Asimov was the first science fiction author I read, and I think I read the first Foundation books initially, then I was swept up in the later books as they came out when I was a teenager. Asimov opened a door that already existed thanks to movies and tv shows like Star Wars and Star Trek, but it helped me realize a love affair with science fiction writing that has hardly abated even in the face of my love for non-fiction and history.

4) Timeline by Michael Crichton: I must mention this book for I would never have read the book that comes after this had I not read this book first. Timeline was a brilliantly executed piece of fiction (even if the movie was a poor imitation of the novel) that pushed the bounds of the ideas of 'time travel' but those of the common notions of the Middle Ages. At the time, I enjoyed Medieval History, but nothing like the hold it has over me now. Something about the clarity of discussion in the novel about Medieval society and the Hundred Years War clicked, and when I turned to his bibliography, it was clear he had done his research. Many of the books he recommended I have since used in papers and found them to be amazing books in their own right, and Crichton led me to another author that I might not have read otherwise, the eminent Medieval historian, Norman F. Cantor.

5) In the Wake of the Plague: The Black Death and the World It Made by Norman F. Cantor: Dr. Cantor has been writing about the Middle Ages longer than I have been alive and has written several books I highly recommend for the casual historian and for those who study intellectual history (meaning the history of a history). His book Inventing the Middle Ages is a seminal work on Medieval intellectual history, though I recommend it only if you are serious about history. It is a tough read. As for as In the Wake of the Plague, this was a book that really cemented my love for the time period, not so much because it is a plague history, but because it treats the plague as the many things it was: a history altering event as much as it was a pandemic as it was a cultural shift. The plague caused many events that seemed little at the time but would shape the world as we knew it. One example is the migration of the European Jewry to Poland and Eastern Europe, which would have enormous ramifications to say the least in the 19th and 20th centuries. It altered the economy from one of predominantly agriculture to a wage and town economy thanks to the population shifts, and it created a reactionary thinking toward the Church, leading to works such as The Decamaron and the insight necessary for the Renaissance. Alas, it did not alter war as it only created a small hiccup in the Hundred Years War, but the plague had a subtle hand in creating the modern world, for good or ill. For me, this has always been important, this shift in understanding, for without such death and suffering the world we know might never have been.

Well, this has run longer than I thought, and five books should do, though I could list a couple of others, but it is not necessary. As I mentioned before, the books have helped illuminate the passageways. How I proceeded has always been up to me.

C.

A Quick Update

2007-03-25T20:23:00.000-05:00

Why? A) The season finale of BSG... B) I am wiped out from the craziness of AggieCon, since I had to do everything solo this weekend (though many of my kind neighbours at the show helped out in a pinch) and C) I am wiped out mentally from so many awesome conversations about philosophy and LARPing and philosophy in LARPing... but more for another time. I owe y'all some comments of course, and I will get to them once I get some sleep :)

C.

On Writing

2007-03-21T18:25:00.000-05:00

note: I thought I would leave you great folks with something a little more substantial than saying, 'see ya in a few days' since I will be mostly without Internet access while at A&M during AggieCon (that's Texas A&M for the unfamiliar :). Therefore, I thought I would wax philosophical or tangential about one of the subjects most dear to my heart: writing.

For some, this might be a little repetitive, especially if they have read my entry, 'The Poet', but this incorporates newer and perhaps more refined thoughts about the subject of writing as a whole and not just the art of poetry. Admittedly, most of my writing has been poetic, even when it has not been poetry. Even my non-fiction papers have been accused (is that the proper word?) of being poetic at times. I will also say, I do not write as much as some, and less than I would like, but even when I am not writing, I am thinking about writing. In my mind, it feels as natural as breathing. At times, I see the words and how they should form before I even question if the form is proper. To me, this is how it always was. That might sound a little arrogant, but it is not intended. It is really the best way for me to describe the process, a process that has always been so instinctive, once I knew it existed.

I often wonder what is so unique about humanity compared to the rest of the animal kingdom. Some might say language, the ability to communicate. Well, we are not unique in that regard. Many species can communicate with one another even if we do not understand them. Perhaps it is the ability to make tools. That certainly separates us from most, but not all species (some chimpanzees and other primates can make primitive tools, and I suspect cetaceans would be able if they had hands instead of flippers... or they do not care.). Some might even say that we build communities, and while our community building is complex and incredible, again, not unique. We are, however, the only species that can put our voice to page, or the only species that has shown the ability to do so. That, to me, is our uniqueness, and our incredible beauty. But what about the concept of the soul? Without writing, I think our sense of the divine, or of the soul would be primitive. The ability to create pictures, words, symbols and phrases upon stone, papyrus, clay, vellum, and paper has enhanced our ability to understand the soul and reach for the divine, however we interpret such things. Without writing, our divine spark, our connection to the universe as a whole, is diminished.

One might not care whether writing allowed us to create the words that might have enlightened or repressed us, depending on the view, but writing has allowed our species to grow, as it has allowed me to grow, as it has allowed anyone to grow who seeks such knowledge. When I write, it is not enough for me to simply put the words to page and be done. I have to know why I did it (and perhaps unfortunately tell everyone else why too :) as much as I am satisfied that I have created something. I have to be sure I created something from the divine part of myself, the part of the universe that is manifest in me (I was planning to work that in somehow :). Maybe I am a perfectionist in that regard, but it suits me fine. I cannot seek the divine through religion or nominal spiritual means. My path, while similar, does not lie along that road. It is not a road less traveled by any stretch, but it is my own. Of course, this does not mean that my writing is divinely inspired, hardly that. It means that in order for me to be satisfied with writing, I must reach back into the heart of the universe itself, or that is at least how I perceive it. Writing is as much an act of love for me as illuminating manuscripts was to monks in the Middle Ages. I would not call it sacrosanct, but it is the best part of me.

Even in something so small as a blog entry (or so large, since in essence I share it with the world, regardless of the number of people that see it), it is my intent to give my all to the words. Even still, I do have entries where obviously this is not so. Clearly, my lists and minor updates have little to do with my seeking the divine, the manifestation of the universe as a whole in myself and all of us. But for the most part, I mean it when I say in my little 'about me' blurb that all you really need to know about me is the words. They are what I know and what I can give to you, dear readers, and to the universe at large.

Everyone have a great weekend in advance,

C.

The Universe Made Manifest

2007-03-20T14:25:00.000-05:00

We are the universe made manifest... to me, a simple, endearing truth. It is a thought borne from the cradle of all existence. Nothing so much in trying times gives me comfort. Knowing such things (as much as one can) allows me peace when all around me is complicated at best and falling apart at worst. Not that such things are occurring at the moment, though I am dealing with the same family issues as before, and I worry about the coming end of the week as I always do before a convention. Still, I can set it all aside, and call it meditation, thought, or something deeper... it washes away. It is what I can do to when life appears to fail and I can do nothing about it save this... let the knowledge of what we are, were, and will be comfort me. Perhaps that is my solace, if you will (since I asked the question about it some posts back).

I think if more of us understood this simplicity, we might be more peaceful about things to come, what we have suffered, and even the day to day that consumes us. Besides, I would rather write about something hopeful like this... melancholy has its place, I suppose. So long as I wonder about the beauty of the universe as a whole, I am not sure melancholy is needed. I realise how idealistic that sounds, but sometimes one has to be a little idealistic now and then.

C.

Home

2007-03-16T17:20:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I feel as if I have written as a young man, reaching toward all that should or could be. Others, as someone older, perhaps not so wiser, but yearning for the home that was. I think that is the curse of wanderers such as myself, and other more famous wanderers throughout history...

'Toward Ithaca Home'

A thought of gentle solace,
Grants so little respite
Within such unrelenting carnage,
Amid the pyres of the dead.

A brush of a delicate hand,
Yields a wealth of distant hope
Through desolation and fortune,
Beyond even the river of the damned.

A simple word or two remembered,
Quiets the thunder of rage
That set so much of a world alight,
Borne from the promises of the dead.

A memory of a life forgotten,
Gives way to present joy
Within the welcoming embrace of love,
That always rested...
Upon Ithaca's gleaming shores.

C.

Walking The Long Road

Silence in the Heart of the Night...

Apologies...

Purposes...

Golden Bay

Haikus...

The Nature of Thought...

Memories Of This Life...

Staving Off The Night...

Excerpts From A (now) Uncluttered Mind...

Thoughts On Genetic Memory

All the Best Holiday Wishes...

Cheese

Solace of Love

Erratic Errata From the Past Couple of Months...

The Holiday Season...

Company of Your Heart

Memories of Distant Roads

Some thoughts and other thoughts...

Finally Home...

On the Way Back...

My Apologies...

Open Mic Night in Golden Bay

Upon Queenstown Hill

Midnight's End

In Queenstown

Addendum...

Wellington and the South Island...

In the Art Deco City...

The Cape

The Cape and Bay of Islands

Night's Dawn...

Thoughts and Ruminations...

The Zoo, MOTAT and IMAX

In Auckland

In LA...

One Last Thing Before I Go...

Gonna miss this...

The Final Countdown...

25 Songs Revisited

Discourse, Dialogues and Discussions

The Long Twilight

Today... and Tomorrow

Home and Home Again

A Year of Rebirth, Reckoning and...

The Roads Taken...

Points of No Return

Home

9/14

The Quiet of the Night...

'Til The Stars...

Toward the Precipice

Ascending Jacob's Ladder

Walking the Long Road

Silence of the Heart

The Book Page and Newer Blog

Complete

This Long Road

Her Perfect Shore

The Words and Time

The Gulf Betwixt Our Hearts... For Now

Truth

What seems a lifetime ago...

On Love: Revisited

Introspection

Tides

Awakenings and Glad Tidings

Only You Will Never Know

Crucible of Memory

For You

Sometimes Words Fail You...

Summer and Rebirth

For Thy Right...

Top Ten Comic Stories

In at the Death

Twilight Struggle

Wherever The Road Takes You...

An End to Love...

Making Sense of the Present... or the Future... or Something...

Not So Abandoned