Got to rename this from Bush to American War.
The Day (the day inwhich I wrote
it).
February 22,2017
Wow, six years later, and again it is winter when I write this. A quick review of the text below where this writing is placed on this page brought back a few reminders of those days.
As expected, life is different in ways, age, the times and the things interesting which now consume my time. Winter has taken its share, causing its demand of attention, snow to move, many very cold days, plumbing troubles due to a rodent's desire to chew the insulation of the heat tape that warms the pipe when the temperatures are extreme ( less than 10° F). The good thing being that the pipe didn't break and its issue correction, though temporary, held, preventing serious problems in need of a greater amount of attention. I long to see my garden again. These past two months have hidden it below a blanket of snow that yet lingers there, though near melted at present. The ice that formed in those places where snow is compact in place by what ever pushes it down with force ample to remove air space. Walking, vehicles and the wheelbarrow compact snow here. Yet years and years ago I learned how to avoid ice from the above mentioned, that is to move the snow before it becomes compact by anything I may do. The shovel goes before me when new snow is present, because that activity reduces the potential to have ice becoming greatly reduced. Yet the winter brought pure ice to me, as it fell directly from the sky as rain. The ground was so cold as to freeze the water on contact where it remained, solid boiler-plate ice, more slippery than a banana peel and bone breaking solid to land upon. It is best to prevent the potential of ice for that reason. But the rain turning directly to ice changed the game. I am thankful that I treat snow as I do because thus far I've avoided falls on the ice though there has been a couple of moments of thoughtless motion. I simply remember these events having taken place, reflecting back with a belief that I will not see these conditions again this winter. I could, yet I want that nature will put a touch more heat in this area for winters remains.
The Bush wars continue, expanding like the flood waters, yet different than water, it is slow and lethal to those unfortunate individuals directly or indirectly in its path. Crazy! Sad! Shameful!
In these, my times, the days of my life currently, as of now that is, and not necessarily when this is read by any individual. The true love and compassion of my life's experience is in my path, purposefully most of my days, at least for a few moments and likely for hours. A deliberate turning of course, one that has brought with it some of the pleasant, the unexpected pleasure of making success of the music I make. Success is like any other judgment, subjective. For my own use of the word, I am referring to the satisfaction created in the process making my music come to life to be heard by any whom possess a desire to hear it. The years it has taken to achieve what I am now doing seems long. A realization that this is a road for myself alone has been a different kind of challenge to come to terms with, as both unexpected and undesirable. Although, now. alone, I am recording my music at will, creating these ideas of songs, turning the ideas into individual parts that when combined make up the whole. It is art, a peculiar form of art when done by one person. There are a lot of pieces in the process of making multi-track recordings of songs never before played in this way or performed or heard, to say nothing of knowing how to use the software used to facilitate the processes used to produce high quality digital audio recordings. It seems a never ending challenge bringing along success in its wake. The process has shown me more about possessing the patients required to continue this path, learning what recording music alone demands. And finally over these same years, I've gradually collected the physical gear that supports the entire process. Ah, now the fun happens, beside fulfilling a long sought goal of recording all of my music. Many of these songs are now somewhere in the process, some simply in a rough draft form, the beginning point I use with every recording, some nearing completion, where most tracks are recorded well, but waiting another track or two, completing what will meet the final mix and product, a new song to be heard. Fun and the reward of listening, it builds a stronger satisfaction with each track created.
Life remains good!
December 12, 2010
It is winter. Winter has evolved for me personally in my life time, well that is as a period of time in relation to its weather. I personally have experienced a large shift in how I feel about winter and what it brings. In the early years of my life I lived outside of Napa, California. Splendid weather there, but winter is, well while noticeable as what is known as winter, it just doesn't get cold as I now know cold to be. I can recall the first time I saw snow. It was a weekend or maybe even before I had started going to school. My sister and I were so excited we kept looking out the window, getting dressed to go out and play in the snow, but mostly looking out. By the time we had gotten ready to go outside to have our time in the snow, it had all melted away. Sigh... Then another year when it did get cold enough to break a water pipe, the water must have run for many hours and it froze on the ground, like an ice skating rink along the driveway. The water pooled up before freezing and must have formed a frozen surface nearly 20 feet long, by 5 or 10 feet wide. I remember it stayed frozen like that for at least a week. The memory is quite sketchy now with some 50 years having passed.
In my late teenage years we moved to Lake Tahoe and I learned what cold and snow was like. I went skiing for the first time Christmas Day, 1969. The event changed my life eventually. I was poor and skiing is an expensive sport, so being poor, I was not able to ski very often. By not very often, I mean maybe 10 to 20 times in the following 8 years.
After I returned to Tahoe after my service in the Marine Corps, I was able to buy cross country skis. There after I found winter to be a joyful time. I became anxious in fall for the first snow fall, the accumulation and cover adequate to go out and play. Winter and its snow provided what was then the best time of the year. We would go out and find the winter wonderland in the Sierra, going out to where nobody roamed. That was true of that time, though now days it is far different on the snow covered Sierra, as winter has been discovered as advances in ski technology re-sculpted the sport. We did it on double camber cross country skis, and I still have that first set of skis, in their beat up state, though they would still function perfectly well were I but able to clip them on my feet and go. Of course I have others now too, but that is a different story.
Since then I have moved away from the magical winter wonderland that can be a winter's day in the Sierra, to a lower elevation much farther north. The snow is never as deep here and it rains a lot during winter. But the busted body has taken the joy of winter as I had come to love it away from me. The joy I find in winter now is in the observation of snow in its various forms. Differing days, temperatures, and the age of snow all take a part in how snow looks as it fully or partly covers the landscape. I still find it magical when the snow sparkles on a cold winters morning, when the crystals are formed in a way that allows it. This seems a condition that is unable to be adequately captured by a camera and must be observed to fully understand the spectacle the right condition provides. It is better on a perfect day up on a high slope of untracked powder snow, knowing that you get to make the first tracks!
December 10,2010
Evening after such a period of neglect to this entire site. Yet there is no rule compelling me on to write here. Life has simply taken me in other directions. It is true that for this time I do wish I would write more here. As I see it, my world is falling down around me and it seems so hopeless while I am here feeling helpless to assist very much with the betterment of where we all live.
The truth is it really sucks being inside a broken body, learning to adapt to it is a large challenge for anyone in this or similar condition. It takes a really long time to adapt from being able bodied, knowing a life time of experience in movement then having it extracted, as though something just cut it off, gone.
I really shouldn't talk about that, it is simply on my mind a lot, almost always in the background, like a blister on you foot while sitting still.
Actually I am going to leave this as is for now, maybe come back again sooner next time and maybe say something worth speaking to.
February 16, 2010
Tuesday morning,early for me, being up at 4:20 AM local time.
I have done some strange web findings in recent days. I do this sort of thing occasionally. I simply love maps thus... maps give raise to looking at them. In my normal day's web viewing, I nearly always look at maps on United States Geological Survey (USGS) earthquake information sites. I guess growing up in California provides some basis for that sort of interest. So these days there is a vast amount of near live data showing earthquake information on map type interfaces. These maps provide: magnitude, depth, and location for everything above magnitude 2.0, world wide. But that is not what I want to talk about here and now.
Looking at these maps on the usgs sites has sparked my interest in a variety of subjects over the years. It causes me to want to see it better, to glean some sort of understanding of what is there. Google maps and GoogleEarth come into play here for me. Due to the nature of those usgs maps, having an occasional city name, my investigating took me to this place that I find to be absolutely fascinating. I just marvel at what it must be like on the ground, to walk through these places that hold beautiful patterns as seen from above. Thus I provide here a google maps insert that shows this place. Fool around and take a good look at the place as provided by Google Maps.
View Astana, Kazakhstan in a larger map
And this photo from Wikipedia.org
I look at the above image and wonder what it must be like to be among a society that would create a place like this. It seems to me vastly different than anything I have seen before, anywhere. I think it is quite beautiful as seen from above at least. I just wonder what it must be like to walk through that area, beneath that structure called Bayterek. It is impressive from my living room, and this small fragmented view found on the web. Got to love the internet!
February 05, 2010
This day is gloomy looking outside, with rain and wind. Wintertime in this Inland NorthWest, though an odd winter it has been thus far. Very little snow has come down so far as the warm weather presists. But I don't want to write about the weather, though I want to write about something significant. It seems that I have yet to figure out exactly what to write here today. I do know I want to write. Writing about the thought process of figuring out what would be good to write will have to do for the moment.
There is a lot in the world to choose from in writing. Generally I write about things I find of interest or importance at a particular point in time. There are subjects to avoid all together here on the net as they are personal in nature, though these are probably the very things that I need to write out for the purpose of getting a grip on life as the corners have come sharper than my ability to navigate in recent times. There is always the political topic of the moment or even one seldom spoken. The world is full of subject matter to choose from. The closest thing to me it this moment is the computer, my near constant, lets say, tool. That is a good topic to write on as it has offered me a lot in recent years.
A few years back, I removed myself from the realm of Microsoft products all together for what has turned out to be a remarkably good transition into the realm of Linux. There were challenges at first, being without any formal background in computing, or computers. Yet I was determined to move to what I understood to be a more reliable system. My understanding proved out correct. I do enjoy the freedom from the vicious pirates, thieves and other such fun loving intruders (though their forms of fun fall under a different thought process than my own) that comes as a part of computing with Linux. The amazing part of the experience is that all the software is opensource, which actually means, free from monetary costs to the consumer, me, you, anyone.
This past few days I went through the process of making a sitemap for this web domain of mine, www.birdbox.us which come to find out, has become very extensive over the years. I started this adventure in the world wide web back in 1997, using Windows 95 (trademark Microsoft Corp.) on a Pentium II machine. Those were the days, eh. Yet that was a much improvement ofer what proceeded it that 3.1 thing. I am getting off topic, sorry, so coming back to topic, in the process, I discovered that I have over one thousand pages running on this domain now. I was amazed to see that number. This Linux system with all the free software really offers a lot of flex to my ability to do things with the computer as I am no longer bound by the costs that were involved in obtaining software as was the previous experience with those other guys. The concept of free software for the masses really brings a better potential to humanity in general. There are so many great minds stuck behind the walls of no money. I wish everyone knew.
There are many systems out there that fall within the free category. I use the Ubuntu 8.04 LTS "Hardy Heron" because it is a "long term support" (LTS) version. To make that sitemap I finished last night required making an xml document/file. I did it with the program I am using to type this, called Kate, of all things. It is quite a flexible program that I only discovered last week. I have quickly become fond of it, the program. I had to learn some minor programming, or relearn a different macro writing method to streamline the editing process, rather than trying to write out all those lines of xml by hand. It turned out to be rather easy to accomplish. The result of which is, now I have a sitemap to help this web site be found by readers through search functions.
There is no moral to this above tale, just a bit of writing for yet another entry in This Day.
December 8, 2009
Another very long span of time has passed without a word written
here. I am unsure of why I ever choose to write in a publicly
accessible place. I remember times when I did believe there to be
audience here and that it could cause a difference in one's day
maybe. I must admit that I have sense changed my opinion on the
question of audience. I believe now that few if any read
this. The question might therefore be why would I have concluded
to write in the first place. For myself, in this moment, I really
have no caring for the amount of audience, if in fact there is any at
all.
There was a time when I really wished to cause some reasonable change
in our world. I see our home (the planet) through clear
eyes. I choose to look past the clouds of disguise cast out
before us by those who choose to be blinded by their need for
money. It is said that money makes the world go round, though I
do know better. I choose to recognize the laws of physics and
admit freely that these are the forces that make the world go
round. Money is purely a human invention which in fact has no
merit on a naturally evolved globe traveling through space.
Humans do taint what they see in order to keep this system of monetary
exchange going.
Right now in Copenhagen, Denmark, there is an international conference
being attended by representatives of 119 countries. These talks
are said to be on the subject of “global warming.” I read through
some of the write-ups on this conference and conclude that the root of
the talks is really about money. Who is going to pay what, how
much and other economically centered topics that are said to be
connected to reduction of “greenhouse gas emissions.” The fact is
more likely true that this is an avoidance of the real issue as it is
disguised by a vale to allow the monetary exchange to go on as it has
in the past. I truly believe that humans actually don't
understand the real issues here for their fear of loosing the things
they like in life. Note that I didn't say fear of loosing things
they need. They can't see clearly enough to understand that the
things they like will prevent their having the things they need in the
long term. We place a higher value on the freedom to drive
an automobile above having food and water. 119 countries with the
major industrial countries dictating what the remainder can expect.
I do understand that the problems of the human race and the place we
all share is very complex. Societies have evolved monetary
systems as a way of exchange between individuals. Individuals
have formed groups and country nations which seems to bring harmony to
the individual groups, countries. The countries are like
individuals in ways, all different from the other countries. Yet
with countries as players, rather than individuals, decisions which
effect the monetary systems are filled with inequality, because for
one, the individual systems are not on a level playing field.
Many other factors which I surely know nothing about are in
play. The thing I do know something about is the nature of
this living system we know as our Earth. While we are busy
bickering about the differences and ways to come to equitable ways to
make decisions, we are continuing our destruction of the planet at
record pace, turning a blind eye to it under a smoke screen of disguise.
Enough of that!
There is sun here through this cold spell of winter like weather,
yet winter is not officially here. Yet the dates on calendars is
purely the pick of a misinformed human being. It may be true that in
some areas, winter has yet to arrive though here in the North of
Idaho, USA, winter type weather is here by late November always. I
used to really enjoy the wonders of winter. Wonders in that a deep
snow covered landscape provides a magical look. That which was once
clearly defined becomes changed even hidden from sight or touch. The
colors in the landscape are also altered. Scenes change from the
normal of dirt, rock and plants, to the wild white of a wonderland.
I used to ski through the magic of winters glory. Now I dream of
skiing from inside my home. The dream to hear snow crystals forced
together under the weight of the ski, the grace of a turn, the plant
of a pole, that sound, another turn, on down the fall-line through a
winters magic.
September 4, 2008
It has been a long time since placing
words in this space. Reviewing time shows that the Bush war
continues. Maybe there is new hope coming along soon.
I certainly hope that to be our case. I was just reading some of NVC
this evening. If the people who next gain power in Washington
could only open their minds to this simple yet difficult idea, our
world would be a much safer place to live for all of us. Simple /
difficult, an ambiguous couple of words. I say it is simple
because idea is simple. I say difficult because the process is
generally one beside our normal pathway in speaking in the beginning.
There is a lot of learning involved to become efficient in the
practice. It is a matter of practice, like most of the concepts
we learn in life, we must walk the path several times before we know
how it takes us to the designated destination.
Maybe
I will come back and write more often. Fall is near and with it
comes the changes of habit. Habits, available with favorible
weather. The cold to come will leave me indoors more as being
one with little ability to be physically active, the chill sinks in
quickly. Tiz uncomfortable being outside in the cold while being
still. I have no illusions to paint today.
February 16, 2007
I don't want to be up. I
want to be asleep. There is not anything here to do which draws my
interest some mornings. This is one of those mornings. Up earlier
than I want, up awakened by the discomfort of a painful neck. Pain
influences dreaming strangely. Over time I have accumulated a lot of
experience with the pain influenced dreaming. It brings about a
random mosaic in story. Most of them involve an expression of pain
in various vivid forms. War, stressed adventure, torture, and
falling are a few topics that come to mind. Ah but that is past for
another chunk of time and now wakeful time is here, dominant, and the
sun is shining. Sunshine, such a rare event here on the Palouse in
winter. It must be soaked up when available. This bright sun
hanging in a pure blue sky is quite a cheerful view. Still I await
my view of this as of yet it is below the hill on its way up through
a morning. Now that wakefulness has come, coffee is on the intake, I
will have to choose the course of my day yet. The choices are likely
to involve this keyboard in some way. But with the sun in the sky I
really should find my way outside to enjoy the real world beyond
these confines. Snow has melted. Mud prevails. Time, like the
trickle of water in the roadside ditch moves on in its steady journey
down hill. Yet this illusion of time would be much less evident a
couple of hundred miles above this location on the planet. There
what we observe as shifts between day, night, dark, light would be a
constant of light. Take one out of the orbit of this planet and how
we observe life would alter our perception of time. Time is the
ticking of a clock, marked and synchronized to the timing of the
earths spin. Take the earth away from time and all reference beyond
a clock disappears. What would that be. Our trivial little lives
dictated by time, schedules, and clocks would find time to be less of
a determinant factor in living. Time is artificial beyond the
planet. Time is an illusion.
February 10, 2007
Standing in
the chill air
of this Saturday's morning filled my senses in just a few moments. The
fire is lit inside, still prior to effecting the room
temperature, darn winter's cold. The coffee is done, first steaming
cup in hand, I swing the door to the outside world, step through and
quickly pull it to behind me. This being alive thing is interesting. I
notice this immediate environment. My mind instantly fills with
sensory inputs. There is a fresh air wind blowing in from the east,
singing in the tall pines. Singing is more of a soft steady low
pitched whir that slowly oscillates relative to wind speed. There
are many birds out on this sun filled day under a sky so blue that it
looks belonging. I hear a song sparrow down by the creek. It sings
its melodic song, then goes silent. This creek, several hundred
meters from where I stand, remains swollen with the volume of
yesterday's rain that melted quite a lot of snow. There is a loose
group of black-billed magpies in the area. I hear them, their loud
raspy calls, then see these rather large birds in flight as if
hopping from one small tree top to the next. They call to one
another, pack like in behavior as they move over and through the
landscape. The windy air puts its chill to my naked face and
penetrates the thin layer of these sweat pants I wear. I glance at
the thermometer, hung on the deck's railing to note the 30 degrees F
and feel this is less than ample clothing for a February morning. Still
the view holds me here. The unpreserved wood deck remains wet from
yesterdays rain, dark and slick beneath my sandled feet. Out beyond
the trees where the land becomes flat and the creek is held within
its trench, most of winter's snow has retreated, offering downcast
grass stalks mostly flattened by a couple of months being blanketed
beneath the heavy white. Chipping sounds and a quick movement of
little wings catch my attention. There is a dark-eyed junco among
the bare branched willow bush at the edge of my dull, now dormant
lawn. The sun is a cheerful thing on a chilly morning. Cheerful yet
powerless to warm my bones in this winter's environment. It
brightens the tall ponderosa pines as well as the plowed muddy fields
that stretch out to the north beyond the flat creek bottom-land. Winter
after the snow has melted off yet before the onset of spring
has a certain quality that holds the cold exposing the raw harshness
this land can offer. I feel the hairs on my head being blown by the
wind as the cold begins to augment sensing, time to go back inside
where hopefully the fire has begun to heat the room.
February 06, 2007
Another morning and another day. For
me the day started with a disturbing telephone noise, one ring, then
nothing more. It came into my consciousness as if possibly a dream
yet I know better as I am quite sure of its source. I was able to
drift back into real dream for another short period of time. Finally
I awoke again, trying to focus on the small clock on my bed-stand
which remained a blurry image through many attempts at blinking to
clear what ever it is preventing focused sight in those first moments
of most every day. The dream comes back clearly to my conscious
mind for a few fleeting moments. Consisting of a convoluted glimpse
at a chosen path from long ago, now little more than a reminder that
I long for a condition in living which has thus far alluded this
life. The eyes finally focus on the clock as I realize the quality
of light which has filled the room while in a slumber of dreaming.
Now with coffee in reach of my hand, I
sit and peck out words. There is some sun, highly filtered through a
layer of cloudy sky. It is a rather soft light, consistent with many
a winter's day here on the Palouse. The temperature outside has
warmed allowing the frozen grip to release its water to the streams. My
mind gives raise to patterned forms on the landscape as I gaze out
upon my window's vista. I see the waves of snow deposited on a
storming wind down on the flat below where a wetland is filling for
spring's water-fowl to dabble in. Here and there the grayish dead
grasses of last season protrude up through the now broken snow-scape
for a last gasp at dominion and will soon relent to the next
generation of another spring. My mind sees a pattern like the
spotted skin of a dalmatian where the grass and snow alternate
dominance. Farther in the background the creek is filling with the
melt cutting through the deeply packed snow of a long winter, now
giving to this new found heat. The season will change right before
my eyes if I am observant enough to capture the images through this
transition.
The land offers this seasonal drama
most years though not always. I remember years without these long
periods of snow covering the ground due to drought conditions and
heat during winter. But I prefer winter to have this quality
offering a reflected brilliance of white. It defines the season like
a boundary. Then, like now, the boundary breaks down, bringing this
transition followed by yet another splendid spring of blue skies over
these fields then green. Soon the migrant birds will return to add
their part and a quality to the coming season. These days of winter
my bird feeder attracts but a few species. I find it amazing that
birds are able to chip out a living here when winter closes the land
beneath its snowy blanket. Yet there I see them looking out through
the windows. They remain busy through out the light of day. I find
my wonder as to what I provide them with the feeder. Would they
otherwise migrate to other places were this sunflower seed source
absent. None the less, I enjoy the opportunity to watch the birds
attracted by the feed. I have made a log book in which I record the
species of wild birds I observe here where I live. During this long
stretch of winter, I refrain entering data as it is static with but
four or five species in this area. Occasionally there comes an odd
sighting which I will record in the log. Most winters I have a visit
by Bald Eagles. They perch at the top of one of these trees that my
land offers up here in the midst of the farmed land surrounding home.
This place is quite like an island with mature pine trees on a sea
of tilled up farmland.
Again I am somehow reminded of the
early morning dream. The telephone won't ring with this computer
being online. Time to transition.
February 05, 2007
Here it is another day starting for me. I found little sleep
which leaves me here with the deep dark of
night hanging to the time. I am hearing the radio, a seemingly
informed person speaking on world politics. If one were to put the
content of radio programs into boxes, sorted by category, I wonder
how many boxes there would be? Not that it matters. I am unsure
that there is very much at all that matters in the long term. If one
could pop away from this current location to see the expanse of this
universe and conclude that anything a human can do could matter
across that scale, would be indeed astounding. Thus the box which
one might place the subject matter of any radio program should then
have no significant impact to anything that matters.
With such a point of view how can
anything done matter in the least? I find it to be true and this
very thing causes my point of view on the world, on life, and on a
sense of purpose in living, to be out of what I believe is considered
to be normal. I certainly do not choose to remain focused on the
human endeavor as something to aspire to. It could be that in other
parts of the world the human endeavor is filled with good
constructive things contributing to the better good and I, being here
in the USA, simply have no access to these good virtues other humans
may do to fulfill their life dreams. It seems there is a potential
to do good. I am listening to this talk radio which is discussing
the war, the criminal behavior of the current president, the
conformist behavior of the congress, and the potential for a spread
of war to a greater arena in the Middle East. I find it very
disturbing to understand that this kind of information though somehow
may be good true information, does little more than to show how
absurd this modern society is. As a people the country supports
murder. We pay for the murder of many individuals every day. We
play a very large roll in the spread of weapons, of weapons systems
and of new high tech ways to proliferate killing. I have questioned
the ethics of being a supplier of the tools for war as a business for
years. Those who play in the political arena of our world should
care enough about life to put an end to the proliferation of lethal
weapons.
I wish to aspire to high ideals, to
peace, to art, simply to kindness in the human condition.
February 04, 2007
Dull Gray Day
The day has been dull. It is truly a condition which I know
as normal
for winter here in the Inland North-West of USA. Days seem a never
ending gray in quality of mind as well as condition beyond these walls.
This day is quite typical, gray, wet and near void of something to
bring enthusiasm. Breakfast is a pot of rolled cereal grains cooked in
a suited proportion of H2O, until tender with
milk added at
serving time, eaten from the cooking pot. My self allotted coffee is
gone, the day goes on and on. I would like to feel the stunning warmth
of the sun as though it were perfect and fit in this day's sky. I long
to hear the sound of robins singing at dawn. I long for spring and the
willingness known to the bulbs that push up their early flowers of the
season yet to come. I feel awash, blended into the gray of winter's
day. I eat this cereal with a knowing that this day will soon become
tomorrow, followed by yet more tomorrows which will eventually add up
to spring and it's bloom of flowers alive with brilliant color, the
song of robins at dawn's early light. Another dull gray day is passing.
January 26, 2007
Gray frost, Morning light
The cold of the outside world has shown
up obvious this morning. Most of the outer most exposed pine needles
appear as gray green under a thin vale of crystalline water. This
morning's frost is clinging tight to most of the exposed area across
this landscape. I wish to remain indoors protected in this cloak of
heat. Although winter's grip has softened a bit over the past few
days, delivering relief from a recent arctic blast, there remains
strong evidence of mid January. There are many large portions of
land now free of snow as I look out today. The mosaic changes daily. I
imagine the snow will return, replacing that which has melted, yet
there is no guarantee in weather beyond understanding that weather
happens. Soon the sun shall crest this hill. The captured
crystalline water of night will likely give way as the day
progresses. It seems that change is the only constant in this
universe.
My day usually begins with the
computer. There are a few priorities which call before this machine
captures my attention. First is generally my desire to replenish
heat with fire in the stove. I am very fond of morning's coffee
also. Mornings are rather ritualistic in a way. My behavior has a
definite pattern which I observe and sometimes laugh at. Some
mornings I have inner conflict as to which priority should take
precedence, coffee or heat. Lately the heat state has commanded
rule. Open the stove, evaluate the condition inside, take
appropriate action to make heat again fill this room. It is a dry
fact, evaluation followed by action, sometimes a difficult trick
while the brain retains the lingering effects of sleep. Sometimes
the fire is totally out and other times their remains large glowing
hot chunks containing that desired heat. I like the latter when
winter conditions cling to the season. It means the room is usually
somewhat warm with a room thermometer value greater than 50�F.
These are the mornings I find ambiguity my first act of the day.
Sometimes I find myself in the kitchen, pulling the jar of coffee
beans and the grinder from storage before I think of room
temperature. I have been in mid act of preparing coffee when an
overwhelming will comes to make the fire happen. Other mornings I
walk directly to stove's door. After these two tasks, coffee and
heat are satisfied I push that computer button to open this
realm.
Many years back I was introduced to a
course of study called, “The Artist's Way” by Julia
Cameron. It
is one of those 12 step programs which deals with being human and
being an artist, very interesting. One of the steps dealt with a
temporary modification of behavior. That is where I was introduced
to Morning Pages. Morning pages is a behavior of getting up and
going directly from the sleep state to a state of writing out ones
thoughts (can't do this practice here in winter as the fire always
calls). It is done preferably in isolation, allowing one's self to
be alone, focused on their own thoughts, at the start of a given day,
free of outside inputs (radio, talk with others etc.). The goal is
to write out three pages of “what ever comes to
mind” while
refusing to relent to any temptation of disturbance beyond one's own
thought. This step was to succeed at this process for x number of
weeks, likely it was 12 weeks. While I was going through that
process daily (and I did do it) a lot became clear to me. I found
myself altered in what I consider a good way. I actually continued
the practice for years, filling several spiral bound notebooks before
I converted to writing them with a computer's keyboard. And now I
have a rather large folder of these writings of daily self talk.
Sometimes I still do this practice of getting up and writing first
thing, before I am influenced by the radio or what is happening in
the world beyond these walls.
My normal morning now consists of the
coffee fire duet followed by using the computer. I look at several
web sites regularly. I like knowing something about the geological
happenings of the earth daily. There are a group of USGS sites which
cover earthquakes which are connected to near real time sensors. I
can look at these sites and know about the shaking of our earth's
crust. It seems very interesting to get a sample of this information
in my mind which I follow over time. I guess I see patterns in where
earthquakes happen. There are spikes in the frequentness of
earthquakes in given areas and there are many areas which are
seemingly void from this kind of disturbance. Volcanoes also capture
my interest. I wish I knew of or there were a better system of
delivering information about volcanoes. There are several sites
which express volcanic activity around the world but these are unlike
the earthquake sites. I guess the difference is that earthquakes are
distinct events short in duration where as volcanoes can be in a
state of eruption for long periods. I usually follow these by
looking at the weather forecast before I go on to news. News. I
wish there were more good news. Email fits into the scheme of my
mornings somewhere also. Fact is I have a note now that just
arrived.
Sun has crested the hill now. The gray
green is in its transition toward green and there are sparkling
reflections bouncing off the snow in my yard. Time to go.
January 24, 2007
Morning with the fire and coffee.
In the early part of my day, not to say
it is early because here the sun has been up for hours but I just
found myself in bed, content in my dreaming for hours longer than
what I have found to be normal lately. Dreams can inspire me to
continue dreaming at times. The peaceful adventure of some of my
dreams lingers on in my conscious waking time like the remnant taste
of my coffee long past its exposure to my mouth. Yet the waking
comes at last with the crackle of the wood stove as its heat again
fills the space from overnight chill. I find the sun to be cheerful
as it is so often hidden beyond a bank of cloud in winter. This
Palouse country of north-central Idaho is quite unique among the
places to be found. Snow is melting off the rolling hills now. It
shows off a patchwork of gray and white. The wandering shapes formed
by wind blown snow thrown into leeward pockets as similarly it blew
the soil which composes this land through the eons of time. The
depth of small cornice deposits can remain long after the general
landscape has melted away. The solar strength, angle and land aspect
combine to create this magnificent vista witch changes daily until
winter's grasp on the land gives way to warmer days.
I am continually reminded of my dreams
in the thoughts that crop up. I do enjoy those dreams of the
adventure. I am now unable to participate in such adventure as
injury to the body has brought me physically to a near standstill. Yet
in dream I can find my way out of my body's shell and into a sort
of artificial experience which in its moment can seem so real and
fulfilling. I am able to dream of walking through my world, running
through it, planting trees and observing their future growth. I can
enjoy the successes of completing rehabilitation projects if only in
my mind. I so long to again be out on the land walking up the
streams on wader covered legs collecting data about habitat
condition. Little bits of information, like 23% cobble embeddedness
and 0.67 M of Riffle come to mind. With fondness I look back at the
memory of a Bank-Cover rating of 3 because I understand the
significance of the data. Last night's dream contained a glimpse
back at trees I had planted the year previous. I saw those trees and
made a mental mark of their condition as viewed from a distance. They
were but small green blobs on a grass covered slope among a few
clumps of brush and stumps. I wonder how this is possible to have
memories of memories while dreaming. It seems that dreams are
invented in their moment, yet that may not be true. It could be that
dreams are revisited while dreaming which might allow the possibility
of the memories which occur in my dreams. The brain is a wondrous
thing.
My morning can be filled with thoughts
from reality also. I look out through these windows and see the
countryside asleep under the frozen blanket today. Some thawing has
occurred in the past two days. The birds that come to my feeder
always look cheerful to me. I know it is just my thought of cheer in
seeing them rather than theirs. Their activity and aliveness is a
reminder. Their lives demand the relentless need of energy intake,
eat or die. I am glad that our evolution has brought us to this end
where we have storage of food. I look out at the world understanding
it is a time for rejuvenation. Were there to be a disruption in the
supply of goods today, I would surely perish. It may be better to
leave such possibility of thought in the deep recesses, hidden and
unvisited. Yet a reality such as that could come to be very rapidly
and I know it to be true. But like the taste of the coffee which
lingers now I will move on. Soon an orange will fill my sense of
taste, supplanting coffee. The morning closes. The fire still
crackles in the corner. An orange, what a nice thought.
January 23, 2007
Ethics and Stuff
I
often wonder about human behavior. There are so many influences on what
we do from day to day. The basic demands are the demand to feed, the
demand for shelter, and the demand for clothing. These demands may be
the most influential parts that drive humans as basic habitual stuff.
Sometimes behavior comes straight from these three primal demands,
where as; other times the fringe of need can motivate one to "do"
something. The need to feed causes us to seek a way to provide
ourselves food. For most of us that means that four letter word work
comes into play. To work one has to physically move from the shelter we
call home to the work place. Most in this country drive in automobiles
or small trucks to get there. That in-tern causes the use of fuel,
rubber, petroleum lubrication products, glass to see through, plastic
and steel for the outer shell, copper wires, gears, motors, etc. That
whole brings me to think of the ethics of using these materials to
fulfill our basic needs.
So we use artificial means of
transportation basically as a means to deliver our bodies to our place
of work. This allows us to earn the money which provides us with our
feed in what ever form we prefer. The money also provides us the
ability to purchase housing and clothing. Which brings us to expendable
capitol. It is expendable capitol which I feel causes the planet so
much harm. Most humans spend their expendable income, even spend more
than they can earn which I find to be a troublesome behavior outside
the scope of this written intent. People get hung up on collecting
stuff, pretty stuff, happy making stuff, luxurious stuff. Much of these
things are un-necessary to have but the demands of our society bring
these things into play as desirable items. The desire then becomes a
demand followed by a habitual behavior to be saturated by luxury items.
Stuff like convenience products, paper towels, disposable cutlery and
dishes seem to me totally out of the boundaries of what we humans
should do.
Well I find myself in quite an ambiguous self conflict. I
like having things too. I like the convenience and the luxury of stuff.
Yet I am conscious enough to understand that most of the stuff is in
some way harmful to use/consume. Here in the USA we are fed images
which instill the desire to have stuff we really do not need. There is
enough power in the message to overturn our logical minds, which allows
us the will to reject the logic of considering what being without this
stuff would be. I really like having stuff. I try to refuse the
influence of images of stuff to sink into my brain and creating the
will to have stuff. It is difficult.
I may revisit this topic or not. What is stated is so incomplete. Just
a scratch of the surface of the ethics of having stuff.
January 17, 2007
Ah, the gentile sound of Beethoven's
piano sonata no. 8. Now and then I find it very rejuvenating to
expose myself to a morning of music from that classical style. I can
find myself turned in thought's direction by this simple effort of
calling up some of this type music on the computer. It helps me to
deal with the gloom of cold winter's days also. The snow is softly
drifting down from above as I peck out these words. I have nothing
to do that must be done in the moment. Breakfast cooks on the stove,
hot cereal, and the day passes with a simple ease. There is want in
me for spring to arrive here on a January morning. I'll have to
continue my awaiting on that one. I sometimes feel rather trapped in
here, wondering how and if I'll ever be able to to get out of the
screwed up spine condition to regain a “normal”
life. How I long
to do what I used to know normal to be. So I have to lift myself out
of those thoughts to a higher plane of acceptance and think other
thoughts. It is cheerful to think of the birds out at the feeder, to
observe their beauty and behavior while they sometimes seemingly
cavort around. Animal behavior is quite an interesting observation.
Behavior in itself is a curious consideration. Survival benefit is
the innate creator of all behavior I would think. And in that I
cause myself to wonder why I am writing this here now. Is there
survival benefit in writing something like this? I think not. Should
that cause my thought on behavior to be altered somehow. Is
it that there is a difference between the cause of behavior in humans
separate from the behaviors exhibited in other animals. Thought and
reasoning may be unique to humans yet in many ways that seems to me,
an irrational theory. I do find that there are many thoughts which
come to me on occasion which are irrational in nature. In spite of
the irrationality, come, these thoughts do. With that I believe it
is time to set this group of thoughts aside to allow for something
constructive to enter my realm of thought.
January 14, 2007
It has been darn cold for a few days
here. The last time I looked, at 2:00 PM it was about 9 degrees F. It
has been like this for three days now. The good side is that I
invented a new word “brrrreautiful,” because it is
cold and
beautifully sunny outside. It is too cold to do much outside but I
did go out and do a couple of things. I had to put more water in the
bird bath so those few birds around here can have a drink of fresh
water. I have a heater which keeps it ice free on these cold days. I
also took a couple of photos of the ice on my window. It is so
beautiful but I was not really able to capture the image. None the
less I got this one to share.
Then I went off and took another one of
the garden in its dormant time under the icy layer.
I am kind of distracted today with the
football games on the TV. I await spring hoping to keep the water in
a liquid state within my home's pipes. There is certainly nothing
important to share.
January 11, 2007
To anyone who reads. Last night
the President of
the USA told the nation his plan. I think it is past time for the
American people to stand up and voice their opinion even if it is
contrary to that of the President. There is a march planned for
January 27 in Washington DC. Find out more here.
I believe it to be a pivotal time in the
world. I
believe it is time for the people to make a clear statement to our
President that we no longer choose to follow the course he is taking.
The President didn't understand what the voters said by electing the
Democratic party as the majority in Congress back on November 07. What
will it take to cause the President to understand that the
people of this nation no-longer wish to participate in his warring
policies. What will it take to cause the President to understand
that War will never resolve the issues before us. Personally I do
not want to kill any person, or every person, who has the will to
stand up and voice their opinion against the use of force, even if
their communication is expressed by a use of force. The tit for tat,
you hit me, I hit you, childish behavior has to come to a close. I
do not agree with using force, lethal or
otherwise,
in any statement between peoples. The world situation has to be
looked at from a different point of view. The United States foreign
policy should be transformed to one of truly seeking solution rather
than pushing what is claimed to be its will, by destructive means. I
will say to anyone right now that the actions of force created by the
United States in the world today, is the will of a small group of
people rather than the will of the majority of this country. Killing
without Judicial review is against the ethical behavior
standard to civilized peoples. We are civilized aren't we? We will
be better off through the use of civil means to resolution to
differences, what ever these differences may be. This warring policy
of destruction is also contrary to basic human rights. Weapons of
war are unable to be Judicial, unable to be thoughtful and unable to
provide any justice to any cause. The weapons of war must be set
down and abandon as a means to finding peaceful harmonious rule of
law. I believe the people of the world want and deserve peaceful
co-existence based in the rule of law. Rule of law should be one set
forth by the people effected by the laws.
January 10, 2007
I went out for a short walk today. Not
much of a walk just a
little short walk as I can only walk short distances any more. Out
there in my part of the world it is so serene especially on a snowy
winter's day as this was. I walked along in that fresh snow being
very observant of the surroundings. The county road of snow covered
gravel reveals all the foot traffic of the past several hours. First
I passed the tracks of three deer that were heading west along the
road before they broke off to the flat creek bottom to the north. Next
I crossed the track of a coyote. It was not much of a find
seeing these tracks. Down the road at my destination for
turning
around there were two more tracks left by deer. These two came up to
the road, where they turned leaving the road again on the same side
with which they arrived at it. Their track went out into the
bluegrass field along the creek's low rim.
On the way back home there was
little that caught my attention of
the surroundings. I seem to have caught myself up in thought. Thinking
of the position in life where I now find myself. Walking
down the country road, on a snow covered winter day, alone.
January 09, 2007
Today I have been sitting here
in contemplation
of many
things. This time
of year brings a lot of beauty to the landscape. I looked out the
window at the mosaic pattern of snow, ice and large clumps of grass
which could have been just as well pasted as scraps of paper in
different shades of gray scale on a carpet. The pattern so
simple yet coming from the complex system of natural processes so far
from simple. It would be a joy to capture the image in a
photograph, yet I think it impossible as there is a fore drop of trees
which intrudes into this image. My mind has the ability to overcome the
needle covered branches of pines between my eye and the
vista.
This
season brings a mood to the land which is rare and beautiful.
The
view is held in an embrace of ice which is hard and slow to
change.
The cold grips the land bringing a near constant till new snow comes
adding deepening layers to the mosaic. The layers may reveal
stronger contrast in the melt which slowly evolves toward
spring.
Then
again a sudden warm rain could wash the patterns from view in a rapid
way over night or in a single day. The natural cycle in a
winter's day holds true only to winter. We know that there
can be
no
flower to push forth color here in the icy north. It will
wait
the
season in stillness, as memory is held in its genes.
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