writing
Writing as Fast as I Can
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UPDATED
Repost from April 20, 2013 at 12:06pm
“I woke up this morning and realized for the first time, I am actually fulfilling my professional writing dreams (sort of). However, since I didn’t require specific terms, I take what is given and am grateful for the validation of my skills and answer to my lifelong request of the Powers that be. “
Although slightly delayed and far from idealic, this writing grounds me like nothing else I could ever do at this point. It’s unimportant that my ego be stroked as a result of my published words, and truthfully, that’s the main reason good writers fail. My ego has been chiseled to the point of non-existance and it feels liberating. Fulfillment comes in knowing my words, thoughts and storytelling skills are valued and will be read by others. I take comfort in knowing my words might shake a free thought loose from a reader or encourage someone to look up and be inspired to reconsider some aspect of their life. Yes, Visionary Fiction is alive and well and for sale to the highest bidder.
The graphic design education is truely the butter cream icing on top of my custom-ordered cake. Before I’m done with it, they’ll be brilliant fuchsia roses and bleeding heart blossoms to honor Mom and Dad. It will have lots of chocolate because I like it that way.
This story is far from over. A keystone event requires full documentation.
Regards,
The Ghost
Ghostwriting In Mississippi
Turning A Corner
I’m in the final days of my latest higher learning adventure. It has been an enlightening experience that has endowed me with new skills, such as graphic design and a refresher on others, like the latest Microsoft Applications. No matter where you are in your life, I highly recommend brushing up your skills or learning some new ones to keep your mind tuned to the latest industry innovations, as there will be no stopping the technology engine now.
The White Room
Your Host, Our Most Gracious,
Extends Greetings and Elations,
The Honor of Your Presence is requested
By Acceptance of This Invitation
RSVP
Personal Gifts Accepted
* * * * *
Welcome & Please
Make yourself at home
The Host will arrive soon
If there’s anything you need
I’m here to assist you
Your comfort and happiness
Should never be an issue
Have you a gift yet?
You must give the Host something you possess
Choose the item carefully
Only you can decide which is best
Perhaps it’s your love, fear, crime or addiction
He will accept your gift
No matter blessing or affliction
So think carefully and listen
Hear what your soul wants to give
Whatever this thing is that you offer
Let it tell how you live
Before the Host can enter your space
This empty white room needs making
His resources are at your disposal
For this undertaking
These plain white walls are
Yours to create & yours to design
While painting your masterpiece, will you stay inside the lines?
Just put your best foot forward
Remember, He must enter and see it too
This empty room must serve a purpose
Shall it become a business, a stage, or perhaps a home?
It’s yours to decide
It’s yours to own
Fill this room with people
Throw a party or perhaps breed a clan
Just make sure your guests are ones
The Host will understand
The Host will come when you are ready
He’ll pay a visit to you
To see what you’ve created
What you hold to be true
I’ve come to observe your room that was once pure white
Is that the color of envy?
Perhaps the green is too light
Obviously you’re under construction and feeling rather faint
He’ll understand
In fact,
He’ll provide the fresh paint
I’ll return for a preview of what the Host will partake
Best wishes with the renovations you’re planning to make
Now your room shows progress, taste and style
Glad you’ve found someone that wants to stay for a while
What about the interior crawls?
Better check on the plumbing and wiring inside those walls?
Finally, this room is filled with people
All important in your life
Behind closed doors,
Unresolved conflict sustains strife
Perhaps some additional space would grant reprieve
After all, a soul’s gotta breathe
I’ll come back later
You’re getting the hang of it now
The Host will be anxious to understand
The who, the what, the how
I see this room is overflowing
In blessings, great and small
You’ve filled it to the brim
You obviously have it all!
Oops! Don’t look now
The ground floor’s crumbling
Quick grab tight of every loved one and youngling
Did you include enough love in your reservoir?
Where do you draw from?
What’s beneath your show of armor?
There’s still time to fix the damage
No real harm done
Nothing you can’t manage
You can always ask the Host for help
He’s very receptive to the disadvantaged
Now I like what is seen, felt and known here
You’re learning life’s lessons
That’s become quite clear
Before I leave, before I go
There are a few things you really should know
I’ve been your conscience, your heart, your soul
I’m your Spirit self
Together we sustain our infinite whole
So always remember, I’m right by your side
Watching you grow and pacing your stride
The Host will appreciate your colorful venue
When the time comes, remember His gift
Make sure it’s from deep down inside you
Enjoy what you have now
Treasure what you’ve built
The Host only knows when it could all go off tilt
I’ll check back later
For now, you’re doing fine
Oh, by the way
I’m glad you decided to ignore the lines
* * * * *
If God Had A Face
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Mr. Cliven Bundy sure did bring it out in this video as he spoke with eloquence about the natural resources and beauty that surrounded everyone. Pay close attention to the clouds over Mr. Bundy’s shoulder at about 3:40 minutes into the video, which was shared from a live feed. The other speaker did not evoke such a response from the atmosphere! SHARE THIS IF YOU CARE or DARE! This video has not been altered.
The Ripple Effect
Opportunity has arrived at the moment of truth and made her presence known.
From misfortune, comes fortune — a result of breathing failure’s fumes.
There’s something much bigger at work here – soon within clear sight.
Lessons learned:
Never give up ~ Allow ξ beg for forgiveness~ ξ pay attention to the ripples~~~
Stay true to your heart ~ but not at the expense of your soul.
Train your mind to recognize both ~ Judgment is not yours to make.
For all whom are offended, insulted or rejected – believe what you want – in the world you perfected.
Never give up ~ Allow ξ beg for forgiveness~ ξ pay attention to the ripples~~~
Life is precious ξ worthy of you.
The Power of Words
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The power of words and how they are used…….
A woman without her man is nothing.
A woman. Without her, man is nothing.
Victoria’s Cove
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A dozen wooden easels saluted the ocean’s demise. Invisible muses whispered the cove’s secrets to twelve artists, each tasked with washing away morphing shadows on the spiraling tower.
The timeless structure was carved out of stone and masonry which fused its curved Gothic architecture into the jagged ocean cliff with a winding stone staircase leading down into the Cove. Morning sky pink kissed ocean blue as a faint crescent moon melted into the atmosphere with the arrival of the sun. The light play within the cove’s landscape and tower were the subject of each canvas, yet no two were alike. Each interpretation was absolute and eerily precise in each artist’s mind. The dark grays and tans infused in the merger between man and nature were conjured by diversity. Individual interpretations cast shadows on the stone tower and defined the perimeters between light and dark, demanding acknowledgment of their respective place in each artist’s view. Some granted the light generous reprieve spun in golden amber. Others manifested the dark by infusing the monolithic structure with shadowy outlines.
Liquid lace scallops deposited endless strings of translucent pearls floating a bead of iridescence along water’s edge inside the cove as seashell scavengers paid daily homage to the visual splendor. The temporary artist encampment captured the curiosity of Elliot Bass, a local historian with over three decades of beach sand crusted inside the lining of his windbreaker. He was suddenly overcome with strange terror while observing the artistic renderings.
Current Genre: Historical Fiction
Current Music: Works of Jethro Tull
Confessions of a Tree Addict
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We slept beneath open windows with screens filtering the scents of jasmine, climbing roses, pink geraniums and Japanese plums. Aah, summers in the Big Easy!
Some days, our bikes would glide like the wind, jump familiar curbs and land in City Park, where for $3.50, we could rent paddle boats or canoes for one hour of mayhem on the mossy citron-crusted lagoons. Other days, we’d take the long ride to the lakefront and watch the sailboat races while sprawled on beach towels with spearmint snow cones and teen magazines.
Then there was my tenth summer….the endless summer.
Hurricane Betsy landed in New Orleans in the middle of the night and dispersed her wrath from the shores of Lake Pontchartrain to the banks of the mighty Mississippi. Her wicked winds thundered through the air like howling wolves, hungry for destruction. Before nights end, her spiraling tentacles struck the base of the massive oak tree across the street; its branches busting through our living room window and stopping cars in their tracks. It took seven days to get the power back on in Lakeview, ten days more before St. Anthony’s would re-open. So for two weeks, I was crowned queen of the tree fairies.
Perched atop my uncontested throne, I owned the neighborhood, halting all challengers and forcing them to creep backward down the street while paying homage to me and my mighty oak.
I made friends with confused squirrels and ate breakfast with robins and sparrows. Those endless days were my first real lesson in human nature, offering a unique vantage point while camouflaged beneath nature’s canopy in the center of the street.
Within a few days, bicycles owned the street, bringing more and more kids to climb and sit on parts of my domain that had never before felt human arms and legs. They were all anointed my knights and maids-in-waiting.
The summer ended abruptly the day the tree crew came to dissolve my kingdom. I was glad school was back in session, for if I had witnessed the abolishment of my throne, I might have staged an embarrassing protest that I couldn’t possibly win. And deep inside, I knew if I had watched the once-majestic giant humbled into manageable stumps and carted off in a dump truck, a part of me would have died. And when that first car drove past our house, making it to the end of the block, I might have pitched a cherished acorn at it.
Strange how quickly a taste of power can manifest and take root…and how just as quickly, it can be snatched away.
Never underestimate the power of a tree.
Current Genre: Personal Memoirs
Current Music: “Our House” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
Destiny’s Toy
I am Destiny’s toy
She takes me down paths to mystical journeys and earthly delights
She shields me from harm
She nudges me in the right direction
She sustains my vicarious life to satisfy her whims
She maintains a reservoir of wisdom as my drinking pool
She fills the ink in my pen
She whispers what I’m expected to do
She’s the puppet master
She juggles my cords
She makes me stumble, fall, then fly again
One day, Destiny will lose her grip
Soon these cords will become frayed and I’ll be free
Since while Destiny wasn’t watching
My cords tangled with thee
Current Music: “Send In the Clowns” Peggy Lee
Current Genre: Poetry
Terra Nova Papers – Journal Entry 08-04-2052
Place: Terra Nova
Date: August 04, 2052
Thirty years ago, I led a group of people based on a leap of faith. The words of a stranger convinced them to walk away from their lives, climb into a space shuttle and only look back long enough to watch the Earth implode onto itself.
We traveled for thirty-four hours and landed safely on a dormant planet wreathed in misty clouds. The climate was acceptable and the air was safe, so a new frontier was established to support our existence. Extreme loss triggered an intense desire to live. Collectively, the colony accomplished many small miracles and a handful of big ones.
We were driven by faith and circumstance to create and sustain our personal bests and are now all resident benefactors of a utopian society. Strengths are enhanced and weaknesses denied as relationships flourish within the group. The permanency of the situation gives everyone reason to be authentic. Stripping away the entrapments of a material life leaves ample room for everything else to emerge.
Still, unspoken dreams of returning to Earth persist. For the first time since our arrival, I think it might actually be possible.
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Ghostwriting in Mississippi 