Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Tales From the Mushroom

The perfect Steampunk movie hasn't been released yet. I'm still working on it.

Home Sweet Home

Home now. Back then... gone. Visit enjoyed, needed, but hard. Lost all orientation of connection to place while looking for a recognizable face. Lost but found familiar laughter. Discovered tears through others hardship. Memories... held on... let go... no choice. Being from a place doesn't give you claim to it. Place doesn't know you after you have left it. It just belongs to someone else now. People left behind say they are doing well. Parents say they will make it through. Sister says she is fine. Brother knows all will be okay one day.

Thoughts struggle... conflicted. I'm not okay with it. Not enough for me to just follow suit and allow it all to fall into God's hands because I can't handle the weight. Not okay I can't take the pain and struggle away that others close to me feel. Not okay I can't undo what has begun. Not enough to just sit by the phone and hope someone remembers to call and tell me everything is alright. Distance creates strangers. Have I given up my place? I am sorry, but no one has done any wrong. Everyone has just moved on. Home is no longer what was given but now becomes what we make.

I miss the cracks in the sidewalk I outlined in chalk so many years ago. But trying to go back to that same spot would take away that very chalk from the hands needing the home I gave. Please draw me a picture... of when I was little. Make it okay to feel home again. Remind me that it is all going to be okay where home means "safe" because there are no worries as long as love will forever be understood.

Tales From the Mushroom

My personality is... turned up to 11!

Tales From the Mushroom

What is my take on the occupy movement? Let me think...

Tales From the Mushroom

I go through a western phase ever so often. Who doesn't?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Phat Cat Says...

Tears swell but never fall like humidity trapped inside a thundercloud. Storm rages inward as you can see the turbulence build across a darkened horizon. Thunder booms giving evidence to inner conflict. Lightning strikes lashing out proving how volatile and yet simultaneously how fragile the situation really is. But nothing falls as the pain isn't enough to let go of. We look for funny shapes in the familiarity of the changing cloud formations to soothe our curiosity of what might happen but the feeling can be felt without a glance. You can smell it in the air. The dam is held up with so much strength that no force could ever make it give way. Just when you think the weather isn't going to do anything but pass over, you feel a drop. Then two. Before long it begins to rain as the heart breaks and water is set free seeping through the cracks in the wall you built up around you. The tide cleanses and makes new. The weight of your body collapsing to one knee is only relief that the storm will rip you apart and hopefully flood washing away everything in its path. But there is always something left behind after the havoc. You. However, I'll be the first to admit the sky always seems so much clearer after a downpour as we begin to realize and understand what it is to let go.

Tales From the Mushroom

Bloody Pirates

I love movies in which the action seems more real than generated.