About Me

I'm all about Quest, Connect and Inspire through writing, music, advocacy and action.

Powered by Squarespace
Check It Out

The Blog Black Hole

Does this happen to everyone? I started this blog because I wanted to have my own space. To express myself. My authentic voice and my truth. To write. Because that's what I do. I write.

And then nothing happens. For a long time. Little thoughts and ideas come up but they come up when I'm driving or when I'm jogging or when I'm doing other work. And it's too hard and it's too inconvenient and it's too time-consuming to log in and write them down. And it's easier to write a Facebook status or a Tweet because there are all kinds of other people there, too. And I know they'll read what I wrote because they kinda have to.

So, this blog canvas remains blank for longer than I like. But I'm here now. 

And that's something.


The Lowes Effect

I'm renovating my kitchen. Completely.

This means a lot of research and visioning and planning and scoping things out. So I ventured for the first time to a nearby Lowes to dive into the world of countertops and flooring. Just to see what's out there.

I discovered something else. That, in the land of home improvement -- at Lowes or Home Depot or wherever -- everyone becomes one in confusion, searching, deciding between options. You're all in it together. Strangers talk to strangers. Strangers help strangers find something. Strangers stand next to each other and trade ideas or opinions or a "hey, I never thought of doing that!."

Strangers pass each other and smile at the mirrored bewildered look on the other person's face.

It happened to me a few times at Lowes.

I found the place an unexpected and odd nexus for camraderie. Ad oddly reassuring feeling as I know I'll have to go back again.

Nice to know my fellow renovators have my back as I head for the front line.


Velvet Night

Last night was a velvet night.

One of those evenings when the air feels like it's part of your own being. It's not too hot or cold or windy or stinky or sticky. It's right there and it's a pleasure to move through it.

The sky was that Maxfield Parrish blue. I've mentioned that before because it happens a lot in this part of the country at this time of year.

People were moving more slowly and smiling more often.

And the wonderful little yellow-and-black Smart Car buzzed past me on the way home. It always makes me smile.

A little metal bumblebee flying through the late summer night.


When Fiction Becomes Fiction

When does someone's reading tastes shift from fiction to non-fiction?

After a life spent growing up on science fiction or mystery or adventure, why does someone shift entirely to stories taken from real life?

What shifts inside a psyche that causes it to no longer find escape or inspiration in characters of other times or worlds but in the characters of the World?

It's not that one is "better" than the other. Or more "real" than the other. Or more "substantive" than the other. Not at all.

I so rarely pick up a fiction book any longer. Only when written by the few remaining authors I follow and trust.

Instead, the bookshelves are bending under hardcovers (easier to read the bigger type with these older eyes) about advocates and journalists and suffragists and immigrants and Native Americans and essayists and senators-now-presidents.

Just wondering.



Brennan's Video Blog Entry

And here's a video of Brennan.