Just the passenger, not the driver.

How Did it get so late so soon? ~ Dr. Seuss

Into the Magic of Night ~ Roy Orbison

Prologue

Inspired to make words this morning.
The next chapter of my life is beginning.
Leaving one space going to another.
Leaving behind the city, moving to the country.  
Turning the pages with anticipation, like reading the forward of a book you want to devour.
I see the sun coming up behind the trees.
Outlining edges and ushering in the day ahead.
Turning wheels lull me forward down the country road.
Prologue is complete.
On to living under shady oaks.
Chapter one begins.

I Love it Just before it Rains

Light a Candle

I don't know why it is.
When you light a candle the mood changes.
It doesn't heat up room temperature, or change the molecular structure of drywall.
Some how a lit candle changes space and time.
A small break from the now and present.
Momentary distractive therapy.

I've been self administering this form of therapy for years.
On days like today, the space between my shoulder blades and spine carries my stress. Now it's moving it's way up to my neck.
This the burden I carry when the workload is heavy.
... And oh, did I tell you the job was stressful?
I am hospice nurse.
Four different families today. Four different lives.
So I'm going to light a few more candles.
Stare at the flame.
Deep breath and give thanks.

letting go of the tangles... getting the knots out

“silver tongue devil”

It's Time to Believe in Yourself and Your Dreams

"The Innocence Slips Away Time Stands Still"

Irony as Better Than Ozzy Osborne

I am reminded I’m getting old by the sharp, recognition of a singular moment.  Getting off of an elevator after the awkward ride up with strangers, for a brief moment I hear familiar recognition. I realize Iron Maiden is playing Muzak in the background of my descent. Old right? Well checking out the satellite offerings dujour and I find myself following the white Rabbit down ~  “God Bless Ozzy Osbourne” on Showtime. Can you fucking believe it? I am paying to be reminded I am getting old.  Damn what’s next Joey Ramone and Keith Richards getting their own talk show?  Like a train wreck I am drawn in.  A voyeur.   Shakespeare couldn’t have written a tale of irony as better than Ozzy Osbourne. 

Sweet Innocense

There is some kind of a sweet innocence in being human- in not having to be just happy or just sad- in the nature of being able to be both broken and whole, at the same time.  
~C. JoyBell  

~Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

“You think when you wake up in the mornin yesterday don't count. But yesterday is all that does count. What else is there? Your life is made out of the days it’s made out of. Nothin else.” 
― Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

Life is Too Ironic

The Elephant is Well Behaved

Advice to the Young

Angel flying too close ground

☽´¯`•.¸¸.☆●○•°•..☆

If you had not have fallen,
Then I would not have found you.
Angel flying too close to the ground.
So I patched up your broken wings... and hung around a while.
Trying to keep your spirits up and the fever down.
I knew some day you would fly your way, loves the greatest healer to be found.
So leave me if you need to.
I will still remember angel flying to close to the ground.
So fly on fly on,
Passed the speed of sound.
I'd rather see you up than see you down.
•°○●°´☆☽ ¸.•.¸¸.☆...So leave me if you need to I will still remember angel flying too close to the ground.
~ Willie Nelson

The Soul

Look Back on Life

It takes courage

Deep Kisses

We Write...

“We write to heighten our own awareness of life. 
We write to lure and enchant and console others. 
We write to serenade our lovers. 
We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. 
We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. 
We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, 
to record the journey into the labyrinth. 
We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, 
or constricted, or lonely...When I don’t write, 
I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in prison. 
I feel I lose my fire and my color. 
It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, 
and I call it breathing.”

~ Anaïs Nin

Silence is not lonely

Ah listen, for silence is not lonely!
Imitate the magnificent trees
That speak no word of their rapture, but only
Breathe largely the luminous breeze.

From Corot by D.H. Lawrence

~Mandy Hale

You’ll learn, as you get older, that rules are made to be broken. Be bold enough to live life on your terms, and never, ever apologize for it. Go against the grain, refuse to conform, take the road less traveled instead of the well-beaten path. Laugh in the face of adversity, and leap before you look. Dance as though EVERYBODY is watching. March to the beat of your own drummer. And stubbornly refuse to fit in.” 
― Mandy Hale, 

The Single Woman: Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass

Sweet Dreams wait for me.

“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars.” 
― Og Mandino

.I find myself at this time again.

In the South after Midnight

Night time on the Gulf of Mexico.

☆´☆☽ ¸.☆´☽...

Rough Breezes rush in from the balcony.

Blustery.
(¸☆´ (¸.Between the breathy bursts from the window I feel my heart beat  ☆ ☽ ☆

☽´´¯`•.¸¸.☆I can hear the waves rolling while the wind whistles playing the background of the night. ☆• ☆ ………

The fullness of the bed covers wrap me in comfort.

┊┊┊ Sleep hangs in the air. Waiting for when it’s called for.┊┊

Sweet Dreams wait for me.

☆ ☽ ☆ I find myself in this place once more

I find myself in this place once more...☆ ……… ☆ ☽ ☆ Sleep evades me,
┊┊┊ and I not for wanting the day to end
┊┊☽play a game of hide and seek with the fatigue whispering in my ear.☆☽ Why does my creativity want to come out and play when all 0thers ☽ sleep. Why do I fall so easily under the spell of my nocturnal musings.
☆ Perhaps it is the comfort of being alone in a full house.☆
☽ Perhaps it is the peace I gain from witnessing those I love lying safely in their beds, cuddled until the new day awakes them.
Soon I will shun the desire to greet the sun
and slip beneath the sheets of my own bed.
I will notice the breathing of the man lying beside me.
With deliberate effort I will breath him in, be bathed in the familiarity of the life and man I love. ☆☆☆
I will wade for a moment or two between lucidity and dream...
then the spell will be broken as I too sleep until the new day awakes me.
ymd

Life is art

Ernest Hemingway

.•*¨*★☆☾¨*• Bad Company singing Lunch to Us. *••.¸¸☾☆★¸¸.•*¨*••.¸¸☾

.•*¨*★☆☾¨*• Bad Company singing Lunch to Us. *••.¸¸☾☆★¸¸.•*¨*••.¸¸☾ *••.¸¸☾☆★• It’s brunch.  Really lunch time, but on Orange Beach time. Paul Rodgers is singing about the sky being silver, blue & gold. ••.¸¸

 Here it is simply a magnificent Gray.☾☆★¸¸.•*¨*••.¸.•*¨

Somewhere between flannel and smoke ~ but lighter and fluffier.. 

The sun is on retainer for another day and time.

The waves roll this morning on the Back Bay, constant and methodic rocking me through the day. It’s marvelous how the air moves up here on the balcony above life.

Elton John is guiding me …”we have gone crazy lately.. my friends out there.. Sugar Bear.. butterflies are free to fly”.   

Life is good. I am blessed.

 ¸¸.•*¨*••.¸¸.•*¨** I have brought the elephant with me this trip.

We have an understanding.

The bitch is behaving and laying in the background.

Controlled and smiling.

★☆☾¨*•A Beautiful Mind.

.•*¨*★☆☾¨*• Passing the night with a beautiful Mind. *••.¸¸☾☆★¸¸.•*¨*••.¸¸☾ *••.¸¸☾☆

E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfl

“The most beautiful moments always seemed to accelerate and slip beyond one’s grasp just when you want to hold onto them for as long as possible.” 
― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

...the bastards learned how to swim

“I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.” 
― Frida Kahlo

~ r. m. drake

..and by the way

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about

 if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the 

imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to 

creativity is self-doubt.” 
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

~ Pablo Neruda

“But I love your feet 
only because they walked 
upon the earth and upon 
the wind and upon the waters, 
until they found me.” 

~ Pablo Neruda