Long Time Gone / Changes

Pic of the day:  William Turner; Fishermen at Sea (1796)

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How can I tell that the past isn’t a fiction designed to account for the discrepancy between my immediate physical sensations and my state of mind?

Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the end of the Universe

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It felt kind of odd at first.  The first day I didn’t write just felt kind of … off.  The second day was less odd, as things were a fair bit busier and I really did not have all that much of a chance to write.  But the longer I went the easier it was to not write.  But it felt wrong to not write, so I started writing, rather furtively in a notebook that I carry with me, just in case.  Just in case I am hit with an idea that I think is worth writing down.

The first writing I did was autobiographical, basically me bitching about being poor.  That is not new territory for me by any stretch of the imagination.  But the old territory was fertile ground for writing.  Pounded out 3 pages worth of writing in about 20 minutes.  I gotta tell you that felt good.  Writing is something that comes easy to me.  Good writing?  That I can’t speak to.  But it also pointed to something that bothered me.

My writing here.  I’d been ignoring it.  And a reason to stop story writing here, to stop the short story writing I had been doing here, popped into my head and would not go away.  I have another wordpress site, one that I have not used for nearly 2 years. I started that one with my wife as an avenue for the two of us to write together.  She immediately became extremely busy, and I focused all my writing energies here and the thing went by the wayside.

So my story writing days here are finished.  The story writing will continue, just not here.

I think its time to take that one back up and begin using it again.  This page, when  first started writing here thousands of years ago, way back in 2007 was as an avenue for news writing and political commentary.  The page name may be “mikeytherhino.wordpress.com“, but the initial title was “Mike The Rhino’s Great American Rantfest”  and it was meant initially to vent my spleen about all things political.  And I want to get back to that, because I did some of my most beautifully vitriolic and impassioned writing while railing against the system.  It was only later that I even attempted to become anything of a serious story writer.

Years later.

Things change, and I am not saying I regret any of the writing I’ve done here.  I just think that it is time to separate the two.  I’m going to start doing my short story writing on the other site, over at writeisland.wordpress.com.   I haven’t written there since june of 2011.  I’ll be starting up some fresh stories there soon.

And with that I am calling it a night here.  I am going to go work on character development for future stories for stuff on write island, but before I do that I am going to re-boot this page, change things up a great deal here.

Hope you like the new page and the new focus.

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That’s it from here, America. G’night.

Maybe, Just Maybe

Pic of the day:  Views of Kyoto – #5. Cherry-Blossom at Arashiyama, by Hiroshige Utagawa

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As rivers flow into the ocean but cannot make the vast ocean overflow, so flow the streams of the sense-world into the sea of peace that is the sage.

Far better to live your own path imperfectly than to live another’s perfectly

Bhagavad Gita

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I have been seeking inspiration, or something not entirely unlike that over the last few days for my writing.  I have been watching a lot more movies than usual.  I watched Citizen Kane from back to front for the first time ever.  I had heard it was a great movie but was frankly not moved to watch it before I saw it for the first time a few days ago.   I watched Kon-Tiki.  I watched Gonzo, again.  I watched Matter of Heart, a 1986 documentary about the life and work of Carl Jung.

I’ve been going through ancient Mesopotamian history, specifically an audio-book whose written counterpart was written 98 years ago, in particular the myths of Assyria, Babylon and the Akkadians, with side references to most major cultures around the world.

Maybe it isn’t really a search for inspiration though, or not just a search for inspiration.  Because recharging my batteries might and might not equal a search for inspiration.  And that is what have been doing, recharging.  I could write but I simply haven’t been.  I’ve wanted to, but have been busy doing one thing or another and simply have not done it.

And maybe, just maybe, it is a search not for inspiration per se, but ideas, real ideas that can be regurgitated and retold into stories that I could write, and it looks just by gazing at the particular entries that I am subconsciously looking for something big, something deeper and mythic.  Perhaps because the story I was writing a few months ago, the New York cop/torture/terror story was missing something, something bigger, something deeper, mythic.

I’m really getting the itch to do this!

I’ve got my eyes on a few other movies and books.  One flew over the cuckoos nest (the Ken Kesey book not the movie) and Haxan (a movie from 1922 about the occult and witchcraft) are first on my list.

I’ve got my notebook ready.  I think it’s nearly time to start creating characters, but a little more inspiration/recharging/assimilating  and compiling information about the most ancient and well known of stories is in order, and if a book is going to come out of this a little more inspiration is definitely a good idea.

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That’s it from here, America  G’night.

A Little Light Entertainment

Pic of the day:  Fruit by Alfons Mucha

Alfons_Mucha_-_Fruit2

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The charm dissolves apace,
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason.

William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act V, scene i

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Nothing but a little light entertainment tonight.   I had an interview today. During that interview I mentioned that I really enjoyed working with art nouveau works.  Hence the Mucha piece above. I did a fair bit of running around besides, so I was busy most of the day.  That felt good, much like reading Shakespeare. So you get Shakespeare.  So I am relaxing a bit, watching Citizen Kane at the end of my day, hence the video clip from Citizen Kane.

More weighty matters tomorrow, perhaps.

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Viddy of the day:   Citizen Kane: Rosebud

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That’s it from here, America.  G’night.

He Wasn’t One

Pic of the day: Vision of Saint Thomas Aquinas, by Santi Di Tito

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All is for the best
Believe in what we’re told
Blind men in the market
Buying what we’re sold

Believe in what we’re told
Until our final breath
While our loving Watchmaker
Loves us all to death

Rush BU2B (Brought Up To Believe)

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I was moved by a story I read earlier today.

I cannot say much about it, not too much anyway.

But the story is such a tragedy, and so preventable.

A young man dead.

By his own hand.

Moved by fear of the future, fear of jail.

For an offense not worthy of the attention it was given by the prosecutor.

He was made to sound by this person as a heinous criminal.

He wasn’t one.

He had suffered from depression all his life from all accounts.

So if anyone could be pushed it was this kid.

All arrows point to this prosecutor being in some way responsible for this young mans death.

It was suicide, ’tis true, but he never would have taken his life had he not been pushed by a bully prosecutor looking to make a name for herself.

A depressed young man breathed his final breath, because he was pushed to the action by the actions of the law a bully.

He made the world a better place, but his leaving it darkens the world.

He will be missed.

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That’s it from here, America. G’night.

To The Unknown Voice

Pic of the day: To The Unknown Voice, by Vassily Kandinsky

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Do not think dishonestly.
The Way is in training.
Become acquainted with every art.
Know the Ways of all professions.
Distinguish between gain and loss in worldly matters.
Develop intuitive judgment and understanding for everything.
Perceive those things which cannot be seen.
Pay attention even to trifles.
Do nothing which is of no use.

Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings; Book of the Earth

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Belly full, eyes half opened and half closed for much of the night. Ignoring the football games, there’s nothing going on there that I wasn’t expecting, and I don’t particularly care about the teams that are playing. A night of calmness and relaxation.

Thinking much on work and money this weekend. There has not been any work since October. That isn’t any good. I was expecting to have started work at the place I worked at last year. I was expecting to start last week. Haven’t heard word one from them about work. Unemployment doesn’t pay enough to cover the bills. My efforts to find even a scrap of work have been utter failures, and it is frustrating.

But for all of that, I am a fortunate man. I got a call, completely out of the blue by a company I haven’t dealt with in I cannot tell you how long. They have a few potential openings at a few places. Three or four is what I was told. How much will these potential jobs pay? I have no idea. Don’t care either. I need a job, I need cash so I can be a productive human again. I haven’t been for a while, and that is a bad habit to be in.

Without that call out of the blue, I am not sure what I wold do with myself this week. Seems to me that I am hitting desperation time monetarily.

Well, I’m not being entirely truthful. It has been desperation time for the better part of two months. If not for the kindness of a certain person who shall remain nameless, I would not have had enough money to make rent for the last two months.

Now all I have to do is figure out a way to get my printer to work and print out my resume. Wish me luck!

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That’s it from here, America. G’night.