Wednesday, December 31, 2003

The country boy went to the big city up north today. I saw all sorts of people doing their business, buying stuff and eating more stuff, and I in a word I was impressed.

Impressed with the incredible simplicity of life even when surrounded by trappings and bobbles and tinsel, not the holiday stuff, but the kind that makes humans forget the fleeting and base aspects of life: eating, sleeping, shitting and eventually, dying. We are all the same, we all breathe all day long and sleep at some point of the day with some regularity, we all ingest at least mildly nutritive substances into our cake-holes and soon thereafter leave our regards to the sewer or septic system or lack thereof. All of us, no matter where, of what station or of what belief we are. We are the same. And we need the same things.

The list of dealer options is almost endless, we can do what we want and appear as we wish as long as we want to invest the time, effort and money into the process.

But the process of choosing which process to invest in can be withering. One can be a socialite with the right credentials and bloodlines, one can be an academic with the right papers and desire to conform to those guidelines, or one can even be a political leader with the right personality and contacts to run in that direction. You can be just about anything, on the outside.

Nevertheless, we are all the same on the gut level.

But it sure is fun to see the peacocks strut.

Happy New Year!

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

As if falling out of a passing coal truck or kicked out of a rickety old turkey wagon, anew, I begin!

New beginnings are a hallmark of our species, and I'm no stranger to this particular cycle. We have been participants and witnesses in our house of a new life, the babe named Asher Ewyn. Here at the crux of a new year, with another new being in our house, I renew this crazy attempt at written expression-

I am trying hard to figure out my relationship with the world at large again. Politics rage, events whirl, people prosper and others languish and here I remain, in Spring City, hearing some and seeing less.

More people write their ideas down in ways others can read than ever before. I have tried to join my voice to the din many times, using poetry, blogs, written letters, personal discussion and others.

For the sake of my everloving soul (and a few other precious beings,) I begin again.