Incoherent babble bubbles up in my mind

Time moves again. 5:45 am I walk outside and see in the sky, a morning, dark blue gradation with a sliver of moon hanging in the sky.

Time slips by

Incoherent babble bubbles up in my mind. There is no safety, no security. Plans can be made, courses charted, but the future, and the folding of in time is unknown: the true reality show.

New Meeting Notes

It is Admin week at one of the schools I teach at. The interaction with other faculty is great: many ideas, experiances and thoughts shared. The meeting part almost always leaves my head spun into a twisted knot. No exception this time

On Being a Ghost

My Wife and I went to see the Rembrandt drawing show at the Getty Center in Los Angeles. I enjoyed viewing these exquisite works. We also viewed the Irving Penn “Small Trades” photographs. These too were terrific because of the blend of excellent design and a great revelation of the character of each person’s photographed and their occupation. Afterward we wanted a place to have a snack. We did know where to go. We drove around West LA with no guidance except the memories of 20 year past of being in West Wood and Century City and having fun. We went to those places and found we were ghosts of the past looking for what had been. No crowds of young people on a Saturday night enjoying West Wood. The mall in Century City no longer sported trendy designer digs. It had been remodeled into an overcrowded, trash filled, average shopping mall. Time had passed, and our memories no longer existed in the real world. It made me feel very uncomfortable with the weight of time pressing hard into my chest as I did not belong there. Finally, we drove to Culver City and its emerging night life. The air was lighter and my chest could expand. Still we didn’t find a coffee/dessert place, so we ended up at Tito’s Tacos, also in Culver City and ate there.

Clifton’s Cafeteria in Downtown Los Angeles

Fragments of thought now, fragments of thought past, fragments of experiences now, fragments of experiences past, bump up, touch, and overlap one another. Yesterday I took my kids to Clifton’s Cafeteria in Downtown Los Angeles. It was other worldly. Slow paced, thick with years of existence and everyone in the place became a character in a movie (most likely directed by David Lynch). The restaurant was a good strong cup of Joe in the middle of a fast paced metropolis. The kids loved the experience. I was reminded of years past sitting in restaurants with friends drawing pictures on napkins. I felt a kind of grace protecting us from the harshness of Downtown. As we left Clifton’s, the man walking out behind us started laughing a hearty laugh. I’m not sure if he was laughing at his own inner visions, the fact that I was carrying my daughters’ doll or a combination of both.

The call of the quiet within ...

The call of the quiet within as I sit in the negative space between letter forms resting from the intense of the world’s activities. Ah, finally five minutes of an exhale breathe. The push and pull of my obligations have left little time and space to explore and live in my personal internal world. Oh, how it wants some attention. I see the flood of my life in the debris of stuff scattered in my house. Here, let me grab my planning calendar. I’ll schedule in some more “get lost in the self” time.

I Look Up...

I look up and the sky is infinite blue with ever changing clouds dancing across it. That ever present beauty thing again. Doesn’t it know about the anxiety in my stomach of survival and the fear of future pain? I don’t think it does. I don’t think it cares. The hum of the atoms and the reflections of the electromagnetic spectrum just keep doing their thing. So, I listen to the quiet again then back to worrying if I’m making the right moves: worrying that I didn’t make the right moves. The inner compass spins from the force field of worry. I know, I know, let it all go. Then the clouds distorting the view will pass and the course will be re-charted. The stomach worry works only when it prompts action based in the inner knowing of the best choice now. Of course that signal is very subtle indeed. (Not the stomach! The inner knowing) Peace, plenty.

The intensity of the season

The intensity of the season forces a keep up mentality. There are so, so many tasks to do. Vague worries of the New Year unknowns bubble up between the tasks of now. I’m trying to sail the ship of the self on the currents of fine flow. Flow doesn’t respond the try. It only recognizes do. Check the charts, let go, sail the ship, adjust course, make choices, adjust again to the new circumstances. Life keeps moving there is no choice to this.