How to Write a Blog Entry

     Typically before you know the title of a blog post, you have to do the writing.  And that means you have to be in the mood to write.  Sometimes, it takes a little warming up - maybe reading something you've written before or maybe looking over some quotes or pieces of writing from other writers you enjoy.  Next, the room  has to be SILENT - not just quiet - SILENT.  It is best to write in a room entirely by yourself.  When there is another person in the room, you have to deal with their paper shuffling, their comments and coughs, their breathing.  Very distracting and VERY irritating. 

     When you are writing, you have to read over what you just wrote - over and over and over and over again.  You don't have to read the words aloud (although that is entirely permissible) but you do have to listen to the way the words flow.  Do they sound good?  Do they make sense?  Is there a more descriptive way of saying it?  Is the thought simply expressed?  Are the sentences short?  Are the phrases original or did you go for the hackneyed?  Change things and then change them again and then, yes, change them yet again. Be open to dropping the word or phrase that you just fell in love with ten minutes ago because now you have discovered that the word or phrase doesn't work. Set it aside.  You will use it some other time.  Sometimes you will realize that you started in the middle and you will need to go back and add on the beginning.  No worries.  It happens.  The beauty of word processing - so easy to write the middle before the beginning.  How interesting!

      Don't be too worried about length.  Say what you have to say and then wrap it up.  I usually think I am done and then publish the piece but come back to look at it in a day or two.  Of course, as you might guess, I want to clean it up again -- and that is how you finally finish the blog post - clean it up and move on.

Trust

       These early morning bike rides require me to dance with trust.  This morning I left the house around 5:00.  Yes, I had my red light flashing to alert cars behind me and I had my high beam cat eye to both light my way and show approaching cars that I was there.  Truth be told though, there are very few cars out at that hour (at least not on the roads on which I am riding) and the sun is already rising.  Within 20 minutes the lights are not really necessary and they are pointless in a half hour.  However, that doesn't mean it is a risk free ride.
       Here's the thing.  The drivers who are on the road early are often in a hurry.  I have to trust that they will not see the rural roads as a speedway.  I have to trust that they will graciously concede to me my right hand edge and that they will know that there often is glass on the edge of the road.  I have to trust that even when I stray away from my assumed lane the vehicle drivers will make room for me.  I also have to trust that when they are coming down their driveway, they will give more than a glance to the road.  Sometimes that skinny far right side of a country road can be obscured by trees or brush.  If the driver is looking for the glint of metal or the two big headlamps from an approaching car and not seeing that, I have to trust that he or she will also pause for the instant that it takes to know that there isn't an odd pedestrian or bicyclist coming down that hill too.  It can be tough to trust people but I do it.  It's trusting the universe that really gets to me.
      Trusting the universe (or whatever you want to say) is, perhaps, more difficult.  On my early morning bike rides it means trusting that those deer that I see along the way won't choose to leap onto the road the instant I go by.  So far they either leap away from me or take the plunge while I still have time to brake.  A deer/bicycle collision would not be pretty (especially if Lady Luck were still sleeping and a car got involved too).  Deer are not the only wildlife on the road at that hour but likely they present the most danger.  The other morning something small and furry (a fox?) darted out just ahead of me.  I think I could survive a small animal/bicycle collision - that is, IF a car didn't get involved too.  I truly am trusting nature when the glare from the rising sun blinds me.  There are brief moments here and there (sometimes veritable seconds) when I am riding directly into the sun as she moves into her day.  For that instant, I really cannot see where I am going and who or what might be in my path.  It also occurs to me that if I am blinded by the sun then so too might be the drivers who are rushing off to work.  Heaven help me!
       So why bother with riding with the risk? Because the air is invigorating, the colors are brilliant, the lungs and legs love the workout, and I know I am alive.  The risk in the ride only confirms that my life is happening.  And I suppose that's the thing about trust in life.  If you don't let go and trust something or someone other than yourself, you can pretty much curl up and die for all the living you will be doing.  Not easy to do and full of possible accidents and heartbreak, but what's the point of life it you aren't living it?

Walls

  WalWalls interest me.  The physical walls in the world can be low and decorative, they can be complicated and rich with texture, they can be high and shout , “I dare you to climb over me”.   Walls can keep dogs and babies in, they can give roses and kids a place to climb and they can keep robbers and heartbreakers out.  Walls can be concrete and smooth or can be brick and mortar construction.  It seems to me, if you are looking for protection, a wall might give you that.  Among my father’s many talents and skills, was the ability to lay brick, to build strong brick walls and I can still see him building the wall in our back yard (upon which he once told me that if I ran fast enough on the top of that three foot wall, I would be able to launch myself into flight.  Oh, how I tried!).

    There are also imaginary walls , created in the mind.  These walls can be designed to keep something inside.  They can also be  designed to keep someone away.  They can provide protection for the heart,  a refuge  for the soul, and some breathing room for the mind.   My father was the strong silent type of father.  Child of the Great Depression and boy soldier in the South Pacific during WW2, he saw more hardship than anyone should see in a young lifetime.  When he came back from the war, I think he build those imaginary walls in his mind.  I observed a hard working, responsible, loyal man who kept most people at a distance.  His internal walls were as strong and well built as those brick walls he laid.  I was a kid who watched the world.  Ever cautious, I looked at what the adults in my world did and I followed their lead.  I learned how to build strong walls from watching him.  Overall, they have served me well.m

jtoneill.net

So I am working on a website featuring both my photography and my original art work.  But there is an introductory page that I need to do - and part of that page is the dreaded "About me" -- hmmmmm - that is tough to write so I will practice here first.
      Long ago and far away I was a teenager.  What a time of angst and confusion. Solitude was my best friend and family was my refuge.  I pushed myself out into the world via a marriage and, with its demise, all doors opened.  So many exciting doors with so many choices! That twentysomething decade included roller coaster years of exploration and discovery, of roles and masks, of social life and solitude. Personal encounter and change characterized those times.  They are remembered fondly and with great appreciation for all that I learned.
     And still long ago and far away were my hard working thirties and forties.  These two decades were all about raising children and striving for professional perfection and acknowledgement.  Marriage, friendships and self had to be inadvertently set aside as the responsibility of parenthood and work simply took over.  Being a reflective, responsive, and present parent has been the toughest work of my life but the payoff is grand.  I am so proud of those two children.  Professionally, I remain in love with my work and believe I am in my element there.
     Now for the last third (or less) of my life...... scary.  It saddens me when I think that at least two thirds of my life has been lived,  much of it with my eyes closed and my foot on the accelerator.  I suppose this website is an attempt to meld together much of what I have learned so far in life.  It isn't really for anyone else but me.  It is a way to fuse past and present via my own words and images and the words and images of others who have profoundly touched me.  Putting it all out there for the world to see and judge is rather narcissistic, I venture to say, but it is one way to sort life out and be held accountable. What do you think?
     ps:  The website isn't up quite yet but I'll let you know when it is!

Make Your Own Kind Of Music

Remember that song Make Your Own Kind of Music?  Maybe that's the obvious answer to the question I posed yesterday.  Are there good surprises left?  Are there crests yet to come? I suppose if I cocoon my way through the next , oh, 35 years or so, the chances of real highs happening are relatively small.  I am sure there would lots of pleasant moments but intense joy, wonder, excitement?  I don't  know.  Maybe you have to go out and make those moments.  When I reflect back on my 20's there were lots of adventures - some travel, lots of adventures of the heart, always new people being encountered, and openness to explore and an ability to move lightly through life.  I can still travel, I can still  meet and connect with new people, I can be open to what is out there - I want adventures of the heart but that's complicated.  I think the surprises come when eyes sparkle, when attitude is open, when there is an element of risk at stake.  Risk adds to the excitement , to the surprise - but risk is, oh yeah, risky.  It doesn't always play out the way you were hoping.  I also wonder if surprises are more available when your life is not overly complicated, not a tangle of a schedule, not bogged down with things and the need to take care of things (like houses, yards, cars - those kind of things).  Just wondering....

Is it true?

I get grief for this but sometimes I feel as if all the surprises are done - all the good surprises, that is.  There are lots of bad surprises waiting to happen but when you get past the college and career decisions, the marriage and kids days, where can you find surprises?  Yes, there can be pleasures and daily pleasant moments - I get that - but how about moments of intense joy or excitement? Maybe I will be surprised but when I scan the future (which I seldom do) I see a collage of same old same old days.  For a few years here I will keep going to work every day.  And that's a good thing...... overall, I love my work and it brings lots of satisfying/challenging moments.  But it isn't a surprise.  I will enjoy plenty of laughter with friends and family.  I expect to have a few travel adventures and relish plenty of good books, good music and a few good movies. People tell me that grandchildren can be delicious and perhaps I will have the opportunity to discover that.  But I thrive on the highs in life - the way highs - and, admittedly, I am plagued by the lows in life.  I both love and hate the roller coaster that is life but if I have to be in the trough, then I want to ride a crest too.

just me

leave me alone

crawl inside

hear nothing

no sound

no creak, no phone

leave me alone

block my head
make it white

or black

don't ask me 

to come back

don't talk to me

don't tick at me

leave me alone

put blue sky
and silence

in my head

make me hear
only the shhh 

in my head

I would like
that

Riding Away, Running Away

Incredible bike ride!  Words like incredible just fall off the fingers but I know I am alive on the early morning planet.  All senses are engaged.  I can see such brilliant color.  At 6:15 am the light is both eerie and calming.  By 7:15, the light intensifies the greens, the yellows, the purples of spring.  I swear they just leap out at me and stop me cold.  I seriously must stop and breathe in the colors, the fog, the filtered sunlight. There is a short section of the ride that is in a small valley where the hills and trees ooze greens, purples and shades of blue while the flat is littered with oranges, reds, yellows, and pinks.  I almost can't stand the beauty.  But it's not at all just what my eyes take in.  The fragrance of spring surprises me!  It is not a constant as I ride along but rather whispers in my nose from time to time.  And when it does, I see the colors too.  Double whammy!
The air is cold and my fingers a bit numb but then the hill work makes the hoodie feel too tight and too warm.  I have to frequently adjust the gears as I roll up and down and on the flats.  I can hear the knees scream a bit but I am used to ignoring them.  The abs are sucked in.  They ride better that way.  The right clavicle whines from time to time and I find myself releasing the right arm from the handlebars and holding my right hand close to the clavicle.  It's a way to take the pressure off the reach and to remind myself that the healing is not quite done.  This morning John Prine fills my ears too and I carry an illegal smile as I keep a head full of hope and a heart that's filled with wonder.  Oh my!  For a brief time I am in the moment, as they say.  I know what it means to be alive, to be joyful with the world, to have no fears or failures.  I have run away.

Moonbeam grin

To sparkle is to be alive.  To saunter with Ellie through the neighborhood, to feel a late afternoon spring breeze, to wrap my eyes around the greens and the purples, the  pinks and yellows, the oranges and the shine that are spring, this is to be alive.  To watch another person's eyes dance, to know that the room is  electric because people are connecting, to laugh, this is to be alive.  To paint walls on paper - rich, exciting, sharp walls - to feel their power is to feel alive.  Alive begets alive and the spark grows into a flame.  The dark cave of a life can find windows when the spark ignites the flame.  Sparkle lights up a cave.  Sparkle lights up a life.  That tiny moonbeam of a grin can become the sun that makes all the difference.

paint

paint falls off the fingers
black red
bars and rocks
rocks and bars bricks strong
stop the world
why? what good does stopping do?
make the paint real
make the paint
tough
make the paint me
paint cement
cement bricks
bricks that pull skin off
bricks that pinch fingers
bricks that hide
bricks that tear
bricks that are strong
will not allow entry
will scream will tear
will break
me