Water, water everywhere...

Bless me father for I have sinned...it has been over a month since my last post. I know that's not much of a sin, but I'll say 3 Our Fathers and a couple of Hail Marys just the same...Roman Catholic humor.

My brain has been working overdrive the last several weeks. Emotional waterfalls, ideas hitting like a flash flood, but too much to handle all at once. Incoherent, unbridled, chaotic. More so than normal. I needed to take a step back. That's when it hit me...

I prefer the rain.

What I wouldn't give to sink into a hammock on the porch of a little shack on the beach and listen to the gentle tapping of a summer shower on a tin roof as the sun slowly withered on the threshold of the horizon. I could close my eyes and drift away as little waves fell and nestled along the sand.

The rain has been relaxing for me in other ways as well. I've stood out in the rain more than once. Standing beneath the downpour as my pain, anger, sadness, frustration washed the selfishness from my being into the puddles underneath my feet.

I prefer hard rain the best. Torrential. Oppressive. Accompanied by Thunder and Lightning ideally. The kind of weather that puts the fear of God back into your soul and lets you know just how small and insignificant all of your worries are in the greater scheme of things. Droplets slipping off your nose, your ears, running into your eyes, your hair heavy with the saturation of water as it drizzles down your face and the back of your neck. Soaking your clothes, the weight and discomfort becomes overwhelming. But you take it, you scream and shout until it's all gone.

Besides that, rain chases away the human clutter, the mouth breathers that find the sun so welcoming, oozing from their abodes like so many critters from an anthill to take over the surface. The rain...holds them inside, hiding away from the weather. Quiverring at the crashes and flashes of Mother Nature.

It's perfectly acceptable to not be ok in the rain. No need to give the socially acceptable, "fine," when deep down you know you're not. In the rain, without the human clutter to stop and ask, you can be however miserable you chose to be at that moment. You get to be alone...which is sometimes exactly where you need to be...alone.

I'll come in from the rain soon. A hot shower and some dry clothes will give me a fresh start...if only it were that simple. Nothing ever seems simple...when you're an Incomplete Writer.

In the end...there was another beginning.

The reviews are in...

Well, last night's post (or this morning's post depending on your perceived reality) garnered a few comments. My wife read this when she woke up yesterday and liked it, but noted I had a few typos (which I think I have corrected by now) and said it wasn't like me; I must have been tired. True enough. One friend thought it was sad and I guess that's one way of looking at it, but I was viewing the more hopeful side of things. How oddly optimistic of me. But we ARE changing...constantly, as are our surroundings, the people, the circumstances in which we live and we move on, bettered for those experiences. Another friend was like, "Doctor Who is awesome." I agree. I appreciate all of you reading...all 3 of you. Please continue to enjoy and tell your friends.

Again, I was going to venture on another path and, by my calculations, I'm approximately 3 posts behind in my thoughts, which is infuriating to say the least. So, I'll write until I'm tired again, my brain will relax, and I can wake up tomorrow and try to get back on track.

The play's the thing

“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts" - William Shakespeare

Words that capture a sense of place and time, feelings, and where I am at...I guess what I'm trying to say here is that they're my spirituality. And yet, none of this is real. I am but a character, on this page on the world's stage. A character made up of actions and words going back 40 some odd years. Some good. Some bad. One built upon another, in some respect, a work of fiction slowly created over time. A story in the making.

But we make those things real. Each individual, their thoughts, actions, feelings, words, all become real, as real we BELIEVE them to be. In a way, I'm no more real than Sherlock Holmes, or Harry Potter, except in the manner in which I perceive myself and others perceive me. How deeply you believe determines the depth of your reality.

What do you believe?

If you believe that I was ever a part of a fight in the parking lot of a bar ("Time for a little warm up" - posted 8/23/15) then that was real to you. Good for me. Writer's job accomplished. I can make things seem real. That's what I always loved about acting when I was growing up. I could become that character, live in that moment and it became real.

I have always been able to make myself believe things by playing them out in my head...and then they became real. Have you ever had a conversation in your head before you actually had a face-to-face conversation with someone, only the conversation in person doesn't go the same way, yet you remember the conversation, not how it was, but some mutation of the actual event and the one that you played out in your head? It all becomes real, because you come to believe it. Then sometimes, real just happens, and you live in that moment, reality just whacks you over the head like a sledge hammer.

Where does that leave us?

Right now I'm in between everything is real, and nothing is real. I feel that everyone should believe in something...I believe I'll have another drink. I'm beginning to understand why many great writers were heavy drinkers.

So what is real? Perhaps we must look no further than The Velveteen Rabbit.

Maybe it's all real. But what would I know, I'm just an Incomplete Writer.

Life is...

I know what I said, but...

Life is just a really long roller coaster ride, full of ups and downs, twists and turns. Sometimes you even get turned upside down. Some parts last longer than others and some happen so fast that you almost forget about them.

I remember the first time I rode the Great American Scream Machine at Great Adventure (A Six Flags park for those of you who did not grow up in New Jersey.) At that time, it was the fastest looping coaster to date and reached speeds of almost 70 miles per hour as you plummeted into 3 loops, what they called a batwing (I preferred pretzel) and a double corkscrew. To this day, I still don't recall the 3rd loop. I was pretty much in shock that my friends dragged me on the thing in the first place and I was looking in the opposite direction as the initial drop caught me a little off guard. But that's life. There's always something unexpected around the corner.

So forgive me if we don't talk about Semantics today. I know I promised that we would. Let's not call it a lie. I just got a little sidetracked. In the routine of day-to-day living, it just seemed to be unimportant to tackle something so academic.

Please keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times

Every ride has rules and life is just the longest ride of them all. So as I progress in this blog which is just as much about life as it is about writing (since art does indeed imitate life) I have the ability to change the rules as I go.

I know I've spoken before about my M-spirations (bonus points if you can name them all) and how they spark the thoughts which enable me to write. Time's up. Got 'em? In no particular order: Music, movies, moments have all gotten me going at one point or another. I'm adding another: Memes.

The funny thing is, as I looked into memes, the origins of the word and the way in which it was first utilized, it plays right where I was heading with this post. As usual, I have skipped those steps somewhat and left you scratching your head. If we've ever conversed you know the frustration. But I digress.

Just a little spring cleaning

So, anyway...I had this epiphany. I know exactly when it happened because I was looking at my phone at the time. It was Wednesday, March 23rd at 9:03 am. And it's great that memes are so prevalent and they fall within the guidelines of my M-spirations because Doctor Who as movie, not so much, but many of the lines from the television episodes are fantastic, producing a number of equally fantastic memes. As difficult as it is to not share everything, I'll limit myself to three.

In Season 5, Episode 10 "Vincent and the Doctor" (and I think I've mentioned this episode before) had several great interactions and comments about life and living. But one stood out to me above all others.

I carry words with me everywhere, which is already spinning me into my next post, but we'll deal with this first. There will always be bumps in the road, but don't let go of the good things. That was my first thought. Then it led to that fact that life is in a constant state of change, nothing stays the same forever, including the people we are and the those who touch our lives, however brief that time may be. So now we back up to Season 2, Episode 3 "School Reunion," 10th Doctor now, but a line from Sarah Jane Smith:

I find I write better from pain and loss. The music that sparks the most energy, emotion, and therefore my writing, tends to be a little on the depressing or angry side. My wife asked that I listen to something a bit more positive, so I've been adjusting a little over the last few weeks, but I needed to get that feeling back so I have reverted as of late.

But those moments do define us, and you get to see how selfish or self-absorbed people are. Sadness is selfish. When we lose someone in our lives, through death, ending of a relationship, or those that just seem to fade away, the sadness we feel is selfish. The focus is on what and who WE will miss, and not appreciating the moments we had. Everything has a time a place. And everything ends.

Then we change. Which brings me to the last meme I will make you suffer through...today. Somewhere between Seasons 7 and 8, "The Time of the Doctor," aired on Christmas 2013, which puts us into the 11th Doctor, reminding us that we are always changing as well.

I know that I am a different person than I was a year ago. And before that I was a different person than the 2 years prior, and the year before that. Some of the changes were gradual, others were unexpected, sudden. But I remember...and I move onto the next person that I am going to be. Somewhere in there I will find my stories, clarify my voice...and make my mark. Sharing my knowledge, or entertaining, or allowing a reader to escape for a time...

I have been working at stepping outside my comfort zone lately. Nothing polished and most of it still bouncing around in my head. I have rough ideas, random thoughts, and pondered polishing off some old writings to revamp. But my life to this point has been more of Mr Toad's Wild Ride than Great American Scream Machine, so Kerouac or Hemingway I am not. But I will find my way from the place I'm in now, develop my stories to tell, maybe even embellish a little for effect. Everyone has a story to tell.

"But that's OK. We're all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh? Because it was, you know, it was the best."

I know I promised no more memes, but I didn't promise no more quotes.That's from Doctor Who Season 5, Episode 13 "The Big Bang." I mean, really, have you come to expect anything less...from the Incomplete Writer?

Writing by Impulse

I felt compelled to write today. Let's not follow any rules, because let's face it, life very rarely follows any rules in the strict sense. There are many more exceptions, many more paths to follow than even the two roads which Robert Frost described so many years ago. But the patterns still remain, so we'll begin there...

My muse and musings over the last 3 weeks have both confused and refocused me so we'll move to another "M"spiration. Today's song for this blog is New World Man by Rush.

He’s not concerned with yesterday
He knows constant change is here today
He’s noble enough to know what’s right
But weak enough not to choose it
He’s wise enough to win the world
But fool enough to lose it —

The New World Man lacks focus. He has convictions that he doesn't always follow. But he's in process...as am I. (The process is over using the ellipsis as I stream thoughts overflowing while my editor winces.)

I know that I was going in an entirely different direction in my last post, and we'll get back there. Honestly, I have been a little off track from the start. But the only thing that is constant, is change. It's time to re-invent who I am again. Time to put the pieces back together and start again, even if it's too late for some things...

I really thought I would have had some notoriety by now. I hesitate to use the word famous, especially since the term has really been watered-down by the plague of social media. As a young man I imagined that I'd be on a TV talk show or I would be interviewed for some magazine piece. I'd plug my new novel or the movie that I'd written the screenplay for based on some of my own life experiences or find a new twist on an existing work that no one else but me saw. I would get to thank all of the wonderful people I have encountered in my life who's words and lessons have stuck with me throughout the years. People would brag about having known me at some point in their lives. I don't know why either of those last things were are important to me, but they are. (Yes, that's a strike-through intentionally placed for effect.)

Yet the New World Man is easily forgettable...but with so much promise. While the song speaks more to building society by taking in the big picture (the Old World Man and the Third World Man) and developing that to the next level, even in making some of the same mistakes, I take the more mundane, and literal approach to the individual struggling within to create something better. (All while producing the ugliest punctuated run-on sentence.)

So, I say I've been getting refocused (although it's not really materializing here) and part of that has been figuring out what to give up and what to focus on. I'm still not there. But I think there will always be little pieces of who I am, who I have been and who I might become next as I continue on my journey...as the Incomplete Writer.

Two Roads Converged...

Trying to eat an Elephant

I'm not sure from where the phrase takes it origins, but if you've lived for a few years and taken on any task that may have appeared greater than you were prepared for there's always some part-time sage who will inevitably offer you their cracker-jack advice: How do you eat an Elephant? One bite at a time.

Seems to be sound reasoning, although I'm more of "eyes bigger than my stomach," and a "bite off more than I can chew," kinda guy. So as I've embarked on the journey of becoming the writer that I've always wanted to be, I started 3 blogs over the last few years. I was going to try just one...but that's not who I am.

There is no one all-encompassing title or subject matter that IS me. I have a wide variety of interests which I enjoy fully (as fully as one can when one has many interests.) I am ever the student of whatever catches my fancy for any given period of time but there are a few interests which have carried me through the years.

You can call me coach

If the world would befall some catastrophic end tomorrow and the only way to save ourselves was by utilizing sports equipment, I've got you covered. I could just about outfit just about any soccer team in a pinch. I have youth and adult jerseys, at least 20 soccer balls, a dozen pair of cleats (various sizes,) shin guards, goalie gloves, cones, goals...you name it, I've got it. I have every baseball glove and bat that I've ever played with from the time I was 7 years old...and then some (we won't give a count here because it's simply obscene.) I have several basketballs, a few footballs, four tennis rackets, street and ice hockey sticks, three bowling balls, and enough golf clubs that we could modify to survive a zombie apocalypse. Bo knows nothing compared to me.

So I started working on a sports-themed blog, "Common Sense From the Fence" (http://csfsports.blogspot.com) which stemmed from my love of sports but having to be an outsider looking in as my work prevented me from continuing to coach, but my passion for teaching young athletes, especially my daughter, could not be contained. In order to be a good supportive parent  I had to hang my whistle somewhere else. Turned out that place was the internet.

The original rant

My first blog a few years ago was "Occasional Ramblings of an Old Man" (http://occasionalramblingsofanoldman.blogspot.com) and was really hit or miss throughout. I even tried to chronicle my stretch with Cancer and chemo back in 2013, but most of my energy was either depleted or spent trying to get back to living life again, so I didn't write much. It's really my place to just vent, but my last entry was sparked by what I was about to delve into here, namely Semantics.

As I reflected on the moments over the last 3 years, I looked at the ways that Semantics drive everything I do. It impacts the way I speak, the way I write and even the way in which I interact with people. Let's just cover some basics here.

It's all Semantics

Semantics is the study of meaning in language. It's been a long time since I tackled the subject as an intellectual; I'm more into practical application at this point. But I do enjoy a good position paper that stimulates thought and prompts discussion.

In the Spring of 1993 I was attending UNC-Greensboro and enrolled in COM 502 - Semantics, with Dr. Thomas Tedford which made such an impact on me at the time that I saved my notes from the course all these many years. As I sifted through my treasures of words, I came across an essay that I found delightful, and very apropos to my undertaking here. The essay is entitled, "You can't write writing" by Wendell Johnson. I think it will speak to a number of readers, writers, and teachers. It also gives credence to my particular writing style. So stay tuned as I will shortly reveal yet another glimpse into my workings...as The Incomplete Writer.