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Writer's Block

When your imaginary friends won't talk to you.

No I don't have writer's block. Since the time when I first considered myself "a writer" I have never experienced a lack of or a loss for words. Oh sure there might be a piece I had to set aside for a day or an hour but blocked -- never. I do remember the experience from my undergrad days. Back then I didn't understand the craft of writing. Not only did I not get the whole concept of outlines and paragraph structure but I lacked what fortunately I now have in abundance - inspiration. So many stories, so little time.

I do use one technique on the order of a cheat sheet, which is simply that I have a lot of projects going at once and more often than not have the luxury of choosing what I want to work on each morning. Deadlines do come around, but I am generally ahead of the curve on the ticking clock issues. There is a little trick I stumbled on when I sat down to finish my dissertation. Back in 1999, I had just left an all consuming job in Silicon Valley and needed to complete my P.D. dissertation I had put on semi-hold; twas time to close a life chapter, which required a check mark next to the grad school experience. I had continued to do weekend research on my topic: Exploring the nature of qualitative research: Assumptions, attributes, definitions and antecedents. But I was not producing text or content. So my first day back at the desk, I did a little sorting and pencil sharpening before producing the updated outline of the entire project. An introduction, five chapters and a conclusion.

Then I broke each chapter into sections and those sections into sub-sections. When the parsing was done I had ninety three little pieces, some done, some drafted, others outlined and a few with just notes or question marks. Then the process was simple, each morning I would drift through the list and find something that interested me to start the day. Slowly the list of potential bits became drafts, drafts were polished and finally there was just the task of stitching the quilt together and fixing the then's, than's and that's.

Today I know as soon as I hit publish on this post, I will be working on a query letter for a novel (Grey Angel) that has been back-burnered for several months. Inspiration struck in the wee hours this morning, my bedside notepad was full of restart ideas when I rolled from the covers a short time ago. I am both inspired and infused with a new direction for that story. Another project, also fresh from several months in a temporal cul-de-sac surfaced this past week, that will be project #2 on my list; unless, of course, we experience a muse war, in which case I will offer up another blog post.
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Facts, Family and Distortions

Parts of my far flung family have been reconnected via several social networks and while keeping up with the relatives adds some flavor and spice to life, there is the matter of conflicting politics. In particular, what passes for truth. Now there have got to be several hundred quotes about truth and politics repelling each other like opposite poled magnets. Just turn on any news talk show (Fox, CNN, MSNBC, LSMFT), the plot goes like this. The anchor names a topic. A question is asked to the talking head from one side. They respond not to the question but with a talking point, which attacks the other side. Anchor steps in asks for a response from the other "guest", who then does their own talking point counter attack. To this point nothing has been said about the actual topic. The gritty anchor then offers up another question that can only be addressed with a fact, which let's the audience know we have now moved into phase two which means we are about to hear a huge distortion of reality, not fiction but distortion. But let me clarify a bit for those not used to logical, empirical debate.

Fact: The sun rises in the east.

Actually "sun" is a label by which we mean the large yellow star around which the solar system we inhabit more or less revolves. "Rises" is also inaccurate since the sun itself is stationary with regards this planet we ride upon. So, in fact, the rotation of the planet and the orbit around the "sun" causes what appears to be a "rising" of the "sun" each morning. Of course, it is the "sun" causing the morning and not the morning heralding the "rising." Finally, "east" is another construct we have created to mean "over there" or "that way." What is "true" is that if you stand facing the arbitrary direction we call west, you won't see the illusion of sun coming up. So as qualified as it is, there is at least some discernible truth in the statement: The sun rises in the east.

On the other hand, what politicians, talking heads and unfortunately many citizens, including my relatives state as "truth" is in fact opinion generally based on "distortions" of the truth. For instance:

Distortion: They want to build a mosque at ground zero.

"They" want to exercise their property rights to build within all the local codes. Fact

It isn't a "mosque", it is a community center. Distortion

"Ground Zero" is near Alamogordo, New Mexico where the first nuclear explosion in history took place. Japan also has a fairly strong claim to not one but two "ground zeroes." In New York City, the former site of the World Trade Center is several city blocks from the proposed community center. You need a map to find it and once you did, you would have no idea you were anywhere near the current construction site. Distortion.

When I as in Oklahoma City, we visited the memorial to the domestic terrorist bombing. My reaction was not meant to be cynical but honest. I thought that if they built a memorial to every attack in Israel the entire country would be one big memorial and since you can't allow people to live on such hallowed ground, the Middle East problem would be solved. Israel would be one big memorial to human hatred. Guess I am not an advocate of memorials to terrorism, doesn't it just encourage them to commit more acts of violence so they can be memorialized?

Now there are some other WTC/mosque distortions as well. Not all of those opposing the building are bigots. Fact. Some of them are. Fact. But generalizations are generally soft facts. You know like there actually were some African Americans who voted for John McCain, which proves nothing other then human beings have free will. But let's look at some hard facts that don't seem to be useful to either side of this false debate.

The World Trade Center terrorists were all males. Well we can't really condemn 49.4% of the planet's population, even thought they do start all the wars and commit 93% of the murders, 99.9% of the rapes and cause 99.4% of the urine splatters in public restrooms.

The World Trade Center terrorists were all citizens of Saudi Arabia. Now there' s a nice big fact that no one really wants to look at. There are 1.5 Billion muslims in the world but only 25 Million Saudis. So why the focus on the religion and not the country of origin? Best estimate of the number of members of Al -Qaeda, you know the group that actually admitted to being behind the WTC attack - best guess at the high end is perhaps 150 Thousand members. Seems like a better investigatory or military strategy to focus on 150,000 instead of 1,500,000,000. But that's a number thing and you know how numbers tend to be all factual & focused.

Today's conclusion. Think for yourself, whether you are on the right, left or middle. Stop quoting politicians to me, it simply cannot be true that "your guys" are truthful and honest and the "other guys" are liars, socialists or fascists. It can't be true because I have friends and relatives on the "other side" who send me internet propaganda that says exactly the opposite of what you send me. Its called free and open debate but I am really only interested in what you have to say, not what some paid talking head as vomited up in a sound byte.

Pass the chocolate and don't forget to take your meds before the family reunion.
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Backwaters of Time



August, die she must
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I'll remember.
A love once new has now grown old.
-Simon & Garfunkel, April Come She Will

Autumn is my favorite season, not so much in California and not at all in Las Vegas but I do get nostalgic for the midwest come autumn leaves. This year I will have a different perspective, not only does my apartment aerie have a grand view but I look down on about ten square miles of Berkeley and this city does love its trees. Granted there are a fair number of evergreens and I can even see a few palm trees, not the brilliant maples and oaks of my dappled memories but color is acomin'. Already the greens have muted and dulled or begun a subtle yellowing. The trees are withdrawing their life force for the winter, more a seasonal ritual here than a freezing winter necessity.

So as fall in Berkeley plays out, I thought I would ponder and muse about where life doth wander. Time has been on my mind often lately. My high school friends gathered last weekend for a 45th reunion, the pictures from the pavilion at the legion made we wonder. I placed a couple of calls to olde classmates from those days and wondered even more. Facebook has put me back in touch with several college friends, many of whom I saw last fall at our 40th class reunion in Kalamazoo. Makes you think, OK makes me think and then write.

I am going to devote September to all of this nostalgic meandering, mixed in with autumnal musings from my perch, I might have to toss in some musical references not only because it was the sixties, but I've also just received six new remastered CDs that will occupy my ears for the near future.

Come October I shall be ready for something new. A leaping off or a vaulting over but this month, well this month we shall laze in the backwaters of my times.

A final word to those readers who never click thru my linked offerings out onto the wonderful world wide web. Try it this month, I promise at least two or three delectable surprises. I will turn one hump day into a super special link day and include several other hidden gems for your amusement and bedazzlement.



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Image Dump

Stanislav Odyagailo

Here we are at the end of another month and for some the end of another summer. For me the demarcations of the calendar usually means a link dump of those topics I did not get to during the past 30ish days or a image dump of pictures and art I have archived but not placed with any text. Today is one of those visual days. I will offer explainations where I am able. The first image above is simply a bizarre remnant of my long gone penguin days and, of course, an ode to the end of summer.


I just never found the words to go with this image but I do suggest not falling asleep in this situation.

This comes from a file called 'bizarre chewing gum sculptures' I think that says it all.


Here we have one of those color enhanced photos from NASA, but whenever I see this one I am reminded of Nanci Griffith singing Once in a Very Blue Moon.

Its not just anyone who can wear a bow tie.

Well this would be me during the recent Boyz Poker Outing in Las Vegas, taken by Mike at the new Chihuly gallery in the also new City Center.

and finally, well I just don't know . . . Emu Date Night?
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Tim's Dilemma


Actually the dilemma depicted above is not mine, well not exactly depending on the interpretation in the eye of the bolder beholder. Whilst surfin' about for some images of dilemma for another article, I happened upon this image, titled Tim's Dilemma. If you are intrigued, I suggest a larger version, as they say the devil is in the details. The image comes from the website of the Modernism gallery here in San Francisco, I will be there next week for a look see. The artist of Tim's Dilemma is Arsen Roje. A bit more surfin' found his exhibit titled Body Parts, which could better have been called hands or better yet fingers. The link is to a short video tour of that installation, a truly different sort of digital experience.

The Modernism gallery has been around for over thirty years and thinking back I remember seeing a Robert Crumb show there in the 90s.
Robert Crumb - Vulnerable Goddess (1990)

Michael Dweck (2002)

Mark Stock (1993)

Rowland Scherman

Me thinks I shall do a bit more pondering on the nature of my current dilemma, whatever that might be.
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Friends and Fellow Travelers

A friend, an olde friend sent me this image and said that it reminded him of me. Somewhere in storage or in another friend's home there is a white Balinese mask very similar to that image. We were in the workshop/gallery of a gifted mask-maker in Ubud, Bali. Mask were being tried on, laughter was awash but respect was being shown to a true craftsman. I put on the white mask in a back hallway and leaned out into the main room just my head emmasked. For a moment there was complete silence and then everyone came towards me, I had evidently found my one true mask. I need to get it out again, wonder where it rests?

But today's post is not about me or images of me. Today's post is about friends and how I speak of friends in this blog. Long time readers know that I tend to begin a tale with -- "a friend told me the other day" or I write about friends as examples of all things good and not so. Friends who make me happy and those that make me sad or baffle me are blog fodder. There are even a couple of very close friends I never write about either because they are just too private and I don't want to intrude or I have ever so lightly referenced them in the past and received less than warm returns via critique.

Recently a post got three responses that basically said -- "Did you mean me?"

So new rule. In the future when I use the term friend I will send said friend an email disclosing their appearance, no matter how veiled, in this here blog. No email, it ain't you.

Now I must go, there are some towering grey clouds hanging low over San Francisco Bay. The sun has been transformed into a viewable disk as it sinks into the greyness. I am going to sit and watch as light and dark struggle. Which I wonder shall prevail?
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Conversation with God


For those younger or straighter or way over there on the right, above is a Terry Gilliam (Monty Python) image of the supreme being. Didn't want to get anyone confused early on today. You should select your own imagery for the personage of god or God for today's discussion.

Back at the end of June, I did a link dump and one of the items I tossed out was a Conversation with God. Some of you read it, many did not. The article contains an interesting and perhaps off-beat reflection on who or what the deity is or might be. I do recommend the article, I can wait here if you would like to read it now.

No really, I can wait.

O.K. maybe later, shall we continue. I would like to discuss just one aspect of the thesis put forward in the Conversation with God. This comes about mid-way in the conversation, when the human ask about prophets:

[man] ‘OK, so what about our more famous "prophets"; Jesus of Nazareth, Moses, Mohammed…’


[god] ‘hmmm… sadly misguided I’m afraid.  I am not here to act as a safety net or ethical dictator for evolving species. It is true that anyone capable of communicating with their own cells will dimly perceive a connection to me – and all other objects in this universe - through the quantum foam, but interpreting that vision as representing something supernatural and requiring obeisance is somewhat wide of the mark.  And their followers are all a bit too obsessive and religious for my liking. It's no fun being worshipped once you stop being an adolescent teenager. Having said that, it's not at all unusual for developing species to go through that phase. Until they begin to grasp how much they too can shape their small corner of the universe, they are in understandable awe of an individual dimly but correctly perceived to be responsible for the creation of the whole of that universe. Eventually, if they are to have any hope of attaining level two, they must grow out of it and begin to accept their own power and potential. It's very akin to a child’s relationship with its parents. The awe and worship must disappear before the child can become an adult. Respect is not so bad as long as it's not overdone. And I certainly respect all those species who make it that far. It’s a hard slog. I know. I've been there.’


I know a couple of references in there, like 'level two', require a second reading of the article but what impressed me most was not the rather simply idea that religions as we know them are immature expressions of basic human thought but more importantly that we have available to us now the resources to move beyond our philosophical adolescence. The "quantum foam" as he calls it. We or rather the religious believers of our species simply put the wrong labels on all of this. These labels have the singular quality of diminishing the potential of the human race. Baseball players point to the sky god when they cross home plate, but not when they strike out. Every success in life is attributed to god's will or his mercy but failure -- well that's our fault for not seeing his divine plan.


It, the big It, the great answer, what it really is all about doesn't come down to any "One Thing." However, recognizing who we are and not fobbing our potential off on the divine kindness of some mythical entity would be a good place to start.
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