Tag Archives: heart

Devil Behind the Wheel

“Kermie”

This is me. I look like this now.

Not really, but there’s a resemblance, if only for the green fuzzy bits. Miss that hoodie-thingie with the stripes- managed to lose it, as well as my most favorite coat and scarf, all at different times, and all in movie theatres in the last coupla years. I don’t lose things ever, except outerwear, apparently.

“Not

Speaking of theatres, I shoulda been a movie set designer. A profession that incorporates research, history, film, design, creation- both a flat representation on paper and its physical form realized.

I was hanging up some birthday signage for a coworker a while back, and needed to measure out the length of monofilament needed and said so aloud. Another coworker whom I was discussing the likes of Jemaine Clement with at the time, mentions that my Pacific Northwest accent’s showing. I stare blankly not yet identifying the telltale word. She says, “You said ‘maysure’, not ‘measure’.” Thought I’d corrected that one, but my default won out in the moment.

“Egg

Curious as to what new food fads will hit next. I’ve stubbornly never bought into the whole kale as salad thing, cuz, ew. Arugula and spinach, please. Though I’ve fully adopted avocado toast, end of story. (Time is a weirdo, I posted this pic a few years back, but ’05 feels closer than that morning in ’15.)

It finally happened, one of the sweet new lives residing on my balcony came to an end. I was out watering some plants and happened to look down to see a lifeless little downy-feathered body laying still at my feet. Thoughts ran through my mind about how sad it was, had the bird suffered, did the parents care, what exactly happened, and wow, I seemed to be dealing with this rather well. Finished pouring the last of the watering can’s contents and stepped back inside where I promptly burst into tears sobbing for the little life ended too soon. Glad to know I’m still me, with emotions that’ll never quite be fully contained when it comes to matters of the heart.

“In

More car show loveliness. Wish there was some place I could go to drive like a frickin’ maniac without harming a soul and return having given flight to the utter exhilaration I feel when speeding and efficiently maneuvering from point A to B when behind the wheel. I suppose that requires obstacles, AKA, other vehicles and/or somewhat close quarters to maneuver around though, so drat to that. ♦

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Scope

I like when I’m driving home in the dark and music comes on that makes it feel like it’s a noir flick. Like tonight. Sadly, the effect was short-lived- were I only granted special privilege to issue tickets to those that stop dead at roundabouts. On the noir note, watched The Third Man this past week, and was quite captivated by the marvelous and atypical zither score. Effectively eerie at times.

“Well,
Dutch-angled

Got a nifty workbench for use with tools of the heftier variety (took a 3D design class years ago that took place in a shop filled with power tools and promptly fell for the jigsaw) that I intend to put together shortly.

“Bob's

Cranwinkle. Collecting Ediths, it’s a thing.

Roald Dahl has been on my radar as of late- the debut of a marvelous clothing collection inspired by his books and characters, the BFG movie we all had to watch because of Shane’s British childhood, and a viewing of The Witches last month (yay, Atkinson). Dahl had such fun with words- telly-telly bunkum box, radio squeaker, and hippodumplings, for three. I was busy Googling a comprehensive list of all the ones he’s ever mashly-mished, when wonderment happened: can I pop other seeds just like popcorn? Yes, apparently, but I’ll be sticking with the corn it looks like.

We understand with time and hindsight I’m always told, but that’s not applied to anything I’ve experienced in life really. I’ve been asking where did I go wrong- a quantity of one, a mere one, to choose and value me over any other, to be my family. All these years, gone, with no memories, nothing built, a clean heart in wait of another clean heart. ♦

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Flip-switched

I’m tired and need some rest so naturally, it’s time to start a movie. These things don’t watch themselves, you know. Undead children in foreign lands. Wahoo.

Nearly time for fatherly festivities too- much still to do, but I’m reeling it in, bringing it home, wrapping it up, and moving it along. In mere hours my aunt will be down from Alaska where she relocated last year to be close to her daughter and grandchildren. She now has a moose that resides in her backyard. I’m stowing her away as a surprise guest for my dad’s party. Air bed’s been set up at the flip of a switch. Too bad I couldn’t flip-switch those sheets as well. Ugaroo.

“Answer"

Lunch today, this thing of green was total yum. As were a hoard of daisies in bloom along the greenbelt thick with wildlife mere feet from the toy company’s front doors. Classic flowers had me thinking classic thoughts: the power some can hold over the heart, one little thing and it soars, another, it utterly deflates. ‘Tis good to feel so deeply. ♦

“Daisy"

Daisy

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In Remembrance

“Margaret

My grandma has passed away. My mom’s mother. Dealt an undesirable hand early on in life, she brushed it off as best she could, and went on to work hard, and proudly so. Known for slipping raw diced onion into anything she thought fit much to the chagrin of many, she’d coo “they’re just sooo goood,” in response, time and again.

True, a most powerful thing.

She made wonderful apple pie (onion-free), passed out handsewn pot holders as if candy and snored like a roaring bear at times. My dad always says she had the absolute biggest heart, and would give you the shirt off her back if necessary. Her closet was chock full of any number of items set to send home with visitors regularly. Her last few years on the planet made me heart sick, the demise of a life, and a mind. She did not go gentle into that good night, science says she should have passed in June subsisting on a few sips of water a day after a rapid decline over the course of a few weeks, too weak to move, pinned to her paltry bed in hospice care. Someone explain it to me. “The will to live, the will to live,” is all that’s been offered. True, a most powerful thing.

She could talk your ear off about absolutely nothing, provided a receiver was close by. No pudding, but here, a little proof. I’ve missed her for a while now, but this week brings with it the finality of it all. Looking through old photos of the interiors of their past homes- my grandparents- brings a wash of memories, as wall hangings and the occasional lamp, the color of a tablecloth and the texture of a couch bring to mind all the to-doings in years prior now long gone. I try smiling for it all having happened at all versus crying for it having had to end, as the saying suggests, but it’s difficult at times. ♦

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You’re Welcome.

HIS WORDS

What do you think the meaning of life is?
To live in a mystery … and to find purpose and to live in the now … MAGIC! NOW!

What’s your most adventurous memory?
This! I remember this! This is an adventure! This … is the memory!

What advice do you have for younger generations?
Younger generations? Live in the moment. Don’t get old! Don’t judge people … because you can’t be free if you judge people! Love now! CREATE! INSPIRE!

How do you define being free?
By doing what you love.

What do you love?
THIS! The moment! Love now! It repeats!

What other advice do you have for us?
That you’re already doing … You’re always doing what’s in your heart. You can’t get away from your heart because life is a paradox, it’s a mirror of confusion! So, LOVE NOW!

Who do you love?
I love ALL OF YOU! ♦

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Thump

“Muppets

My most favorite of Muppets, Sweetums, AKA John Henson passed away this last month. On my birthday, there was a great illustration of him nestled in among the decorations. Turns out Bean drew it for me as an ode of sorts in case I’d heard about his passing and was especially bummed about its timing. She could tell by my reaction upon seeing it that I hadn’t yet heard, as I didn’t immediately lament his untimely death. She stayed quiet and told me about it later in the week by which time I’d read all about it. I think the eightish-nine year old neighbor kid ended up saying it best this evening while kicking the ball around with a friend, “Well, frickety-friggin-friggy-frick.” 

I’ll be off to enjoy the latest Muppet movie sometime this weekend, loved ones in tow. Composed a few images in way of accompanying visuals above, taking care to add in a necessary heart for x-ray Kermie. ♦

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