Friday, August 30, 2002
Tuesday, August 27, 2002
GIFHY,YIC!
Happa, I hope you are doing well. We haven't heard from you in a while! Our few waking non-stresssed out thoughts are with you :-)
Skye, Thinking of you and Rhino as well.
Metrocake, I forget where you live now but you and Sparks have the same insurance and she has a very good OB/GYN group...
Ally, Pulling for you to get more time to relax!
Paul and Brenda, Your perserverence in a new environment away from your friends is an inspiration.
UIM, No matter what you may think, the truth is if you were still here you would be my first choice to be Godfather to my son. The other truth is you would be amazed to learn how many similarities we've had, albeit in different parts of our lives. I have total faith in you and your future.
Coogwah, The fear is the worst part next to the hurt, but as time passes it WILL get better.
I hope Ghosts' absence lately means that he's blissfully happy. It's a bit quiet around here without him...
Logi I hope your surgery gets sorted out and goes well, but I getta tell ya, the phone sex thing still wierds me out. But more like a two-headed Sunflower then a trainwreck though. (That's supposed to be a good thing)
:-)
Everyone else (Tempest, Boogie, Evil-g...): All the best to ya's. Wish I could write to you at more length, but Wry is tired, very tired, but will not complain because he knows he has a wife at home who could redefine the term...
Always...
Happa, I hope you are doing well. We haven't heard from you in a while! Our few waking non-stresssed out thoughts are with you :-)
Skye, Thinking of you and Rhino as well.
Metrocake, I forget where you live now but you and Sparks have the same insurance and she has a very good OB/GYN group...
Ally, Pulling for you to get more time to relax!
Paul and Brenda, Your perserverence in a new environment away from your friends is an inspiration.
UIM, No matter what you may think, the truth is if you were still here you would be my first choice to be Godfather to my son. The other truth is you would be amazed to learn how many similarities we've had, albeit in different parts of our lives. I have total faith in you and your future.
Coogwah, The fear is the worst part next to the hurt, but as time passes it WILL get better.
I hope Ghosts' absence lately means that he's blissfully happy. It's a bit quiet around here without him...
Logi I hope your surgery gets sorted out and goes well, but I getta tell ya, the phone sex thing still wierds me out. But more like a two-headed Sunflower then a trainwreck though. (That's supposed to be a good thing)
:-)
Everyone else (Tempest, Boogie, Evil-g...): All the best to ya's. Wish I could write to you at more length, but Wry is tired, very tired, but will not complain because he knows he has a wife at home who could redefine the term...
Always...
Monday, August 26, 2002
Something I casually wrote 2 years ago. It drips of me I'm afraid. Call it trite or corny but here it is. I guess not to post it would be quite an ironic blaspheme... :-)
>>>
Perfection
Born with a vision
A sweet thought that confused and delighted his naive, inexperienced mind
Unable to describe or even show with pencils or paints
A silent promise was uttered in the young boys heart
His Creation, for all to see
But not yet, one day, but not now
Not until he understood
Not until it could be expressed
Perfectly.
He did not let go
His passion and his image, his dream, remained
Day by day and through the months and years he worked to make that dream real
He read books, saw films, heard stories
All had a beauty he could see in their peices
Peices that he could use to make his dream real
But not yet, he needed more
He grew and studied and traveled and beheld wonders in the world
He took marvels with him from everywhere he went
Saved those pieces for his dream
He could make it, would make it, soon
All would see the beauty of the masterpeice he kept inside him
The image he has had his entire life
But it wasn't perfect yet
It was fragmented and sterile in his minds eye
Not ready to be made
He needed more
He found love for a time and embraced it with the depths of his heart
And it was grand and it was true and it was a vision unparalleled to him thusfar
That vision became a further tool, an inspiration to give soul to his work.
He began to see the wholeness of his desire, his creation
He began to seek the tools he would need to begin
The creation that his soul had revealed to him so many years ago
Decades now, but like yesterday in his heart
He would find the tools and he would build it
Soon
He found colors and textures and all manner of earth and sea creations
The medium that he would use...everything
There were brushes and chisels and hammers and clamps
Nails and screws and vast intruments of creation
He spent years silently collecting and organizing
Building the place he would create from within
Working tirelessly to earn money to pay for it all
He could have started work today, tomorrow, any day
But not yet
It had to be perfect
It would be
Then, finally, the workshop complete
The tools assembled
The pieces in place
He would begin tomorrow, he would start early
And It would be warm
It would be perfect.
He was getting old, was ready and he would not be denied.
It rained the next day, but he could not wait any longer
He had to begin while he could
He set upon the task of laying out the tools and setting up the tables and dropping down a mat.
He sped about the room like a man on air, forgetting the world
Forgetting even himself
Running in and out of the rain with towels and lights and a heater for comfort
He hadn't moved like this in years
He hadn't been so ready in his life
But he got tired too quickly
He was old and not used to the rush or the rain
So he laid everything perfectly in place
Took a deep breath and smiled
In spite of the rain
In spite of his cough
In spite of the cold
Then he went to his room to sleep
It would be sunny tomorrow
It would be perfect
And he was right
The sun did shine and it was warm
But he rose ill
Too ill to work that day
And his mind turned to his love
But she was no more
And he had somehow forgotten her face, how long was she gone?
And he slept all that day save when awoken by his own thick rasp.
But he would be well soon
And he would be ready
But not now, and he fell back to sleep.
He died silently that night
It was several days before he was found
His family was called and the funeral arranged
And they grieved and mourned and he was placed in his grave.
His sister, her husband and their child went to the house
To go through the old things
To salvage what they could
To remember the man they barely knew
When they entered and saw the special place he had built
They all wondered at everything lying around and its purpose.
"He was going mad," said the husband "Collecting anything and everything for no
reason at all"
"The poor man" Said the wife "if must have been since Isabella died, it must
have been too hard for him at the end"
"He was going to make something" said the child "Something great and beautiful
and these were his tools, see?"
"That is very sweet" said the Mother, stroking her child's hair "But I have
known him his entire life and he's never made anything himself. Look, the tools
have not even been used, not a single one, see?" She smiled softly, warmly
"You are dear and thoughtful and it is a nice way to remember him, but it
couldn't really be true."
"Well I know if I had all this stuff I could make something really cool. The coolest thing anybody ever saw!"
"Of course you could honey and you will, one day, I'm sure"
"Okay guys, we'd better go, there's nothing here we need worry about"
"What about the tools dad? Can we bring them?"
"Well, you're too young, but if you want, I'll put them in a box and when you're
ready I'll give them to you"
"Really?!? When will I be ready, I want them now!"
"Soon Son, soon, I'll tell you when"
"but not now..."
Sometimes we wait so long for something perfect we forget to create with the beautiful
things we find along the way. We deprive ourselves of happiness and are left with a dream
that no one knows we ever had. If we tried every day to build a little bit of what we can
when we can, others will see our dream in it's pieces, in our lives, even if that perfect
thing is never really quite finished.
>>>
>>>
Perfection
Born with a vision
A sweet thought that confused and delighted his naive, inexperienced mind
Unable to describe or even show with pencils or paints
A silent promise was uttered in the young boys heart
His Creation, for all to see
But not yet, one day, but not now
Not until he understood
Not until it could be expressed
Perfectly.
He did not let go
His passion and his image, his dream, remained
Day by day and through the months and years he worked to make that dream real
He read books, saw films, heard stories
All had a beauty he could see in their peices
Peices that he could use to make his dream real
But not yet, he needed more
He grew and studied and traveled and beheld wonders in the world
He took marvels with him from everywhere he went
Saved those pieces for his dream
He could make it, would make it, soon
All would see the beauty of the masterpeice he kept inside him
The image he has had his entire life
But it wasn't perfect yet
It was fragmented and sterile in his minds eye
Not ready to be made
He needed more
He found love for a time and embraced it with the depths of his heart
And it was grand and it was true and it was a vision unparalleled to him thusfar
That vision became a further tool, an inspiration to give soul to his work.
He began to see the wholeness of his desire, his creation
He began to seek the tools he would need to begin
The creation that his soul had revealed to him so many years ago
Decades now, but like yesterday in his heart
He would find the tools and he would build it
Soon
He found colors and textures and all manner of earth and sea creations
The medium that he would use...everything
There were brushes and chisels and hammers and clamps
Nails and screws and vast intruments of creation
He spent years silently collecting and organizing
Building the place he would create from within
Working tirelessly to earn money to pay for it all
He could have started work today, tomorrow, any day
But not yet
It had to be perfect
It would be
Then, finally, the workshop complete
The tools assembled
The pieces in place
He would begin tomorrow, he would start early
And It would be warm
It would be perfect.
He was getting old, was ready and he would not be denied.
It rained the next day, but he could not wait any longer
He had to begin while he could
He set upon the task of laying out the tools and setting up the tables and dropping down a mat.
He sped about the room like a man on air, forgetting the world
Forgetting even himself
Running in and out of the rain with towels and lights and a heater for comfort
He hadn't moved like this in years
He hadn't been so ready in his life
But he got tired too quickly
He was old and not used to the rush or the rain
So he laid everything perfectly in place
Took a deep breath and smiled
In spite of the rain
In spite of his cough
In spite of the cold
Then he went to his room to sleep
It would be sunny tomorrow
It would be perfect
And he was right
The sun did shine and it was warm
But he rose ill
Too ill to work that day
And his mind turned to his love
But she was no more
And he had somehow forgotten her face, how long was she gone?
And he slept all that day save when awoken by his own thick rasp.
But he would be well soon
And he would be ready
But not now, and he fell back to sleep.
He died silently that night
It was several days before he was found
His family was called and the funeral arranged
And they grieved and mourned and he was placed in his grave.
His sister, her husband and their child went to the house
To go through the old things
To salvage what they could
To remember the man they barely knew
When they entered and saw the special place he had built
They all wondered at everything lying around and its purpose.
"He was going mad," said the husband "Collecting anything and everything for no
reason at all"
"The poor man" Said the wife "if must have been since Isabella died, it must
have been too hard for him at the end"
"He was going to make something" said the child "Something great and beautiful
and these were his tools, see?"
"That is very sweet" said the Mother, stroking her child's hair "But I have
known him his entire life and he's never made anything himself. Look, the tools
have not even been used, not a single one, see?" She smiled softly, warmly
"You are dear and thoughtful and it is a nice way to remember him, but it
couldn't really be true."
"Well I know if I had all this stuff I could make something really cool. The coolest thing anybody ever saw!"
"Of course you could honey and you will, one day, I'm sure"
"Okay guys, we'd better go, there's nothing here we need worry about"
"What about the tools dad? Can we bring them?"
"Well, you're too young, but if you want, I'll put them in a box and when you're
ready I'll give them to you"
"Really?!? When will I be ready, I want them now!"
"Soon Son, soon, I'll tell you when"
"but not now..."
Sometimes we wait so long for something perfect we forget to create with the beautiful
things we find along the way. We deprive ourselves of happiness and are left with a dream
that no one knows we ever had. If we tried every day to build a little bit of what we can
when we can, others will see our dream in it's pieces, in our lives, even if that perfect
thing is never really quite finished.
>>>
Sunday, August 18, 2002
Monday, August 12, 2002
HAPPY BIRTHDAY COOGWAH!!!
Thanks to you all for your support and congratulations. It was so nice to hear from GClef too! :-)
More updates comming... We finally got the kid to eat right, so wouldn't you know that two days later he gets constipated... Jeez, I either have to load up one end or unplug the other...
Trust me, you never want to give a baby a supository...
Miss you all,
Always...
Thanks to you all for your support and congratulations. It was so nice to hear from GClef too! :-)
More updates comming... We finally got the kid to eat right, so wouldn't you know that two days later he gets constipated... Jeez, I either have to load up one end or unplug the other...
Trust me, you never want to give a baby a supository...
Miss you all,
Always...
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