Writing cuz I hafta

September 8, 2007

As much as I attempt through sheer laziness and procrastination to keep away from either pen or keyboard, the written word calls me back and I must heed its relentless call. I imagine life might be a bit easier if I didn’t have this reoccurring sensation that I must sit down and reflect on a day’s happenings and string word upon word until I feel satiated. I’ve often wondered (many times in writing) how this compulsion came to be and what motivates me to continue this literary ambulation. I honestly don’t know but I’ve come up with a couple of guesses:

  • It helps me make sense of the world around me. I can acquire an illusory intimacy through these symbols that connect me with “out there”.
  • When I read beautifully written prose it seems natural to respond in kind with my own humble attempts.
  • I feel I have been given so much by the words I have read in my lifetime that I want to give back, and what better way than to add a few more words to the atmosphere.

Blogging is different than my previous writings in an unexpected and curiously rewarding way. All of my journals and notebooks from yonder years were assumed by me to have an audience of one (and perhaps millions after I die and the world discovers my hidden brilliance in a forgotten closet). Daydreams aside I rarely had the courage to share my personal writing with anyone. Along come blogs. I knew about them for some time before I felt comfortable with the format and the possibility of having readers that could in turns be both critical and supportive. Now I cannot imagine the time before blogs…all of my words locked up and patiently waiting can now be shared. As long as there is an audience of one then the circle is complete and the vital exchange has been made.

So…I want to thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to stop by and share with me the wonder of words and the joy of writing. Who could have imagined that with an internet connection and a little courage one could connect with a wider audience and bypass the publishing world with its many pitfalls and splendors? Of course if any of you do make it into hard copy please let me know, I’d love to hold your words in my hands. Until then I will keep marveling over your posts that inspire me and urge me to continue to write and express the viewpoint from the perspective of an individual man on the eastern shore of North America.


The end of the smoothie

September 1, 2007

banana mango smoothie

Bananas are peeled and broken into chunks, nestling down into the bottom of the blender. Blueberries retrieved from the freezer clinking playfully against the glass filling in the spaces between the bananas. Flax seed golden and brown turns to powder in a few rotations of the grinder. This seed dust glitters down on top of the fruit creating fibrous mounds here and there. Vanilla soymilk cascades into the melange slicing through and filling the space between. Water sloshes in cutting the creaminess and bringing the liquid line up to the top. Blender cover securely in place.

With the turning of the dial electricity surges into the powerful blades that quickly and deftly turn all to a thick purplish liquid. Cap uncovered, glasses in place to receive the morning ambrosia.

Beverages in hand we repose in the front room, the world waking up to us. First touch of purple liquid to tongue sends a jolt of recognition through the body, the fast is over and digestion can commence. Slow gulps and moments of staring, the nectar disappears into a satiated stomach and wistful eye.

Glasses returned to sink, remnants of fruit washed down the drain, a morning ritual comes to a close. Yes this is the end of the smoothie for today and with luck there will be another tomorrow. Perhaps then we’ll use strawberries and drink the pink.