Archive for October, 2011

Dreaming out loud

I’ve been thinking about the relative disparity between how many demands are placed on my time and the energy levels required to keep up.

I’ve probably got too much on my plate right now. But I think the solution is more one of organization than anything else.

I’m currently taking a breath and sitting back for an hour or so to figure this out while I do some laundry.

Tomorrow starts nanowrimo. I’ve got my protagonist and a starting point. The rest is just going to have to flow forth from my mind to my fingers and beyond.

When I envision that I see glowing streams of words flying by like golden headlights on the highway at night.

Flowing through my veins as though ideas were lifeblood, flowing trails running down my arms into my laptop and out into the world.

I love that.


Time or a reasonable facsimile

I’m so freakin busy.

I’m slacking so hard on writing lately, I have pages of notes in my phone for my novel and I literally (haha) have no time to explore them.

Being an adult is sometimes very frustrating.


Can I just say that if you don’t go buy Dub FX‘s Everythinks A Ripple that you’re insane?

Seriously, go buy/steal that album right now and then listen to it two or three times in a row and then tell me if you’re able to be stressed or sad about your life.

Why are you still reading this? GO!


No one dreams of being almost remembered.

Dream big, live larger and love fiercely and unconditionally.

If you remember anything that I’ve said or ever will say, make it that sentence.

It pretty much sums up the way I live my life, and to be perfectly honest: I love every single second of my life with an i n t e n s i t y that I’ll never be able to describe with an acceptable degree of accuracy.

Reach forth

I should be tired.

Instead I’m wired.

I love my life lately. It’s been such a strange and oftentimes ridiculous road I’ve traveled to reach this time, this place.

I’ve had an unusual degree of focus for some time now. It is both odd and oddly comforting; as though I’ve finally broken through some unseen barrier in my mind.

It feels like a milestone I should have celebrated, but it passed silently, quietly; completely unaware I had stepped through a portal and freed myself.

Describing indescribable things is fun. I rather enjoy trying to place descriptors upon nameless, faceless things. Trying to reach into the blackness and pull ephemeral concepts from the aether.

I find it strangely satisfying. Or perhaps not so strangely if one knows me.


So I dug out my base-jumping helmet. I think it’s well past time to put a fresh coat of paint on it.

And at some point I’m going to put my company’s logo on it.

Feels kinda weird to say that. But it’s pretty cool too. I think seeing all of the amazing things that Steve Jobs did for apple made me kick it into high gear.

It strikes me as somewhat sad that his death motivated me to just go for it.

Go big or go home.

I always go big. Probably because I always run full out, headlong into everything I do.

Sometimes you run into a wall at full speed.

I’ve found that I generally just roll right through them.

Especially when I see them coming.

Just leap.

If you sketch the landing, so what? Life is messy, but it’s also awesome.

Just Do It

I’m awake and alive.

Such a simple statement. The words could literally mean just about anything.

For me they’re somewhat more complicated than the initial sentence reads.

There are moments in this life when everything dials down to just one thought, one feeling…one insane move that will completely change your life and the way you perceive it.


When those moments find you, no matter how well prepared you believe yourself to be, there’s always an instant when you’ve got to steady yourself with a deep breath and then you have to jump. If you pause to think it over; to weigh the inherent possibilities of each decision, you’ll miss the chance to fly.

Today, I can fly.

Quotes and junk

In order to create there must be a dynamic force, and what force is more potent than love?

Igor Stravinsky

Just sayin.

In other news I’m currently obsessed with Aaron Lewis’ “Country Boy” give it a listen if you’re interested.

I also edited my about me page a bit. People are a process, as we edit ourselves we should edit our online personae. I think that the self-page descriptors should be a natural evolution that mirrors our progress as people; ever-changing, never static, dynamic beings of light and purpose.


As I type this I’m driving south down SR 7. Thinking. Thinking about life. The events that stand out in my mind like a neon marquee.

The choices I’ve made, the things I’ve done to survive everything the world has thrown at me.

I’ve said this before but it seems unusually close to the surface today. I’ve made the conscious decision to never let the past affect the future negatively.

Theres always time to reinvent yourself, to begin again-instead of starting over. It’s all about how you choose to perceive your life and, more importantly, yourself.

Side note: I’m currently singing Dub FX’s “Love Me Or Not” at the top of my lungs. The car is the only place you will catch me singing, soberly anyway.

Side side note: I’m quite impressed that my facility with languages and accents allows me to sing with a cockney accent.

Back to my stream of thought. I seem to spend a lot of my free time introspectively.

And back once again about fourteen hours later.

I probably shouldn’t blog while driving, just a thought.

You know something? I think that I’m actually way too tired to finish this post, so I’m going to do a first:

To be continued…

*I actually fell asleep before I could upload this last night, there’s tired for ya.


My creative process is so strange. I find that (most times) my creativity is much more stimulated by anguish than serendipity.

I always seem to do my best work while in the throes of some sort of (seemingly) mortal pain.


It’s always been the case with my artwork, writing is a slightly different story. I can always write, but some of my best work has come from agony as opposed to ecstasy.

I wonder why that is.

Maybe I’ll figure it out someday, long after it actually matters.