OhDoYa, How ’bout It?

  OhDoYa, a green bull shark, en route from Cairns to Forres, crossed my kayaking path to Scotland yesterday. We chatted once we got past all that sly dawg “How-’bout-it?” nonsense. He bragged of how he almost fished his way into yacht ownership last week. That is, until its ravenous Cap’n gulped OhDo’s sauteed-garlic-King-Crab-and-rib-eye bait, ripped free of the trap line, and sped away. Ah! The stuff I learn and characters I meet while travelling in my wilderness! It’s worth every strained back and neck muscle, slivered butt cheek, paddling blister, tear-stained other cheeks, and cold, wet hand–the latter of which came from slapping my new friend across the snout for his audacity. “Ta,” he said, as the water gulped his sorry ass. Gawd, how…

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In Beauty May I Walk

In beauty may I walk; All day long may I walk; Through the returning seasons may I walk. Beautifully will I possess again Beautifully birds Beautifully butterflies… On the trail marked with pollen may I walk; With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk; With dew around my feet may I walk. With beauty before me may I walk With beauty behind me may I walk With beauty above me may I walk With beauty all around me, may I walk. In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, lively; In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, living again… It is finished in beauty. It is finished in beauty. Navajo Prayer

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Unique Expression

There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and (will) be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is; nor how valuable it is; nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist…

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“Come As You Are” by Carol Orsborn

You have only one sacred duty: to make your spirit available to others. You do this by sharing what you already are in this and every moment. If you are loving, you share your loving. If you are suffering, you share your suffering. If you are healing, you share your healing.   Why waste precious energy arguing with God about what it is that is yours to share right now, worrying how your broken bit could possibly be of use.   Trust that however unlikely it may seem, without your piece, the universe would be incomplete.   Carol Orsborn, Nothing Left Unsaid, 2001.

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Watercolours and Titus Groan

Yesterday, a friend presented me with a pack of 140 lb. Fluid, Cold Press Watercolour Paper. This also included a delicate brush with a purple granite-like handle, which reads ‘Oscoda Prado Synthetic Barcelona.’ She topped this gift off with an invitation to use her watercolours. It is funny about the arts and I.  My gene pool boasts of artists, writers, musicians, singers, and even electronics experts.  Strange. Well, not really. We all had good brains, a facility for language, and a love of reading. I am one of them. Of course, you know that, especially if you have followed me in any capacity before. Watercolours? Oils? It could be! Wait. The materials in my hand say it will be. Life never gave me a chance…

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Inner Critic: Consider Yourself Evicted

Out out, damned critic! Did you really think I would let this go on? Forever? You cracking your whip when you like, forcing me to dance like a puppet. You had to know. That I would not keep you around forever. That I would expel you as fast as humanly possible for me. Yes. It took me awhile but I got here. I had a load of crap to wade through but I am on to you now. Dissecting my every thought. Feeling. Action. Ready to pounce on me as a cat does a toy mouse. Making me writhe under bright lights. Submitting to your version of police science. Well, let me tell you, I have eyeballed you for some time now. Full on. How…

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How Do You Change When You Are Writing? Part II

How do I change when I am writing? I become a person who knows with certainty that I am visible. My deeply rooted self-hatred takes a bit of a back seat when I witness myself. By word swapping, I force myself to see Terry as I would an undiscovered friend. Any lovable soul, scarred by betrayal (including by self), powerlessness, hurt, isolation and little hope. Unwittingly, I make friends with people who find some thread of commonality with me. Our worlds are often radically different but that does not stop us. Writers discover and thread themselves together in deep, lasting friendships every day of their lives. I am an ex-introvert so I am not always very adept at friendships. However, I cannot help but develop…

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Checking In From Another Track …

Dear Scotland Co-Retreaters, It is so nice to hear how people are doing since Laura’s Writer’s Retreat of Your Dreams! I wasn’t going to write as I was thinking, ‘Everybody knows about my messes already.’   Let’s just scratch that but, given this is a two-minute writing assignment I just gave myself, I can’t. So damned sexy! Adjusting has been like hitting a stone wall for me–without the buffer of  two drams of whisky and a beer chaser. I’ve fallen and flailed, boob over shoelace, toe over head, yelling ‘WTF’. Unfortunately, as I repeatedly yell Help, my request appears in a thought bubble about four inches above my head; there is no attached sound byte. I keep cranking my neck back to look above me, to…

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