Remembering Ice and Cold
If I look at measures, I think in winters. Not moons, suns, stars or the ticks on a ruler or those of a clock. I recollect by the numb freeze of fingers and ears. Heavy feet in boots. The rhythmic puff clouds huffed out in blue-grey morning light.
It could have gone (should have gone) much faster, been a cleaner process, but I’m a hired gun; I’m working in a team that is very unfamiliar with one another, and not every piece of our source material was ready–hell, some of it didn’t even exist! But, that’s why I was brought in; I know this stuff from the general to the most technical and I can teach it all, to anyone. This is going to sound terribly arrogant, but I am one of the very few people in the world who can do this type of work, on this scale, in this scope…on a world-wide stage.
Fall Inventory 2016
The light changes in September, takes on an edge and a hue that sets my nerves on fire; it’s always the beginning of darkness, reflection, and a certain amount of struggle. This year it’s a little different…life’s a little different because I’ve stopped fighting as much.
Let me assure my few readers that I am OK. This is a process
Fear and Hate.
Hate alone is a cowardly thing. Fear is a bit more active, it leads to simple, bad decisions that don’t simply impact the coward; the decisions impact everyone. Combine fear with hate, and a forge is made.
My parents are on a timer, and they’ve both led amazing lives…especially my mom. This week she’s in the hospital and it kind of struck me that, while she’s pretty damn indestructible, she isn’t immortal.
It’s time to get those stories of theirs down, to capture them and archive them, so they’re not lost in the rain.
Riding white water through tunnels in a mountain.
Standing on the beach, watching the cloud rise as the Bikini Atoll was incinerated by a Hydrogen Bomb.