Audio version: 9:57
Yeah, actually not so much anymore. Remember that is. I used to take it for granted, I think we probably all do but these days I realize my memories and my ability to remember are like buried treasure. Who knows where they are buried but when you stumble across an old memory long since buried away under layers of time, it is a good day!
This is an audio file, 8:23 minutes of simply uncomplicated fun. I often reread or listen again to my posts, it is sometimes a great escape. I laughed out loud remembering this story as I told it, I hope it gives you the same..
This is an audio file.
It is a story about two ten year olds, joined over time. Fumiko and Ainsley both lived in Deep Bay BC, on Vancouver Island. I have imagined Fumiko, Ainsley is real.
It is a wise man who has the capacity for authentic self evaluation, the humility to see oneself as one really is not as how one hopes to be seen. Now while that is definitely not me, I have had a chance to remember and reflect on some of my stories so I have decided that I may need to refresh my brand word list
My cousin Adam’s visit was powerful for me. I had been looking forward to it for weeks, more than I would normally, were it for example a long lost friend visiting. And I didn’t know why.
So much of conversation is hijacked these days, taken from us before we can give voice, our thoughts unheard. I have read all manner of opinion about manhood, most of it written or voiced through some social, cultural, even political filter but it has given me pause to ponder.
‘What is a man?’
Good Bones. A house, a marriage, a career, our selves, our friendships; they all get rocked by the inevitable high winds, sometimes by terrible storms but they can all survive if they are built upon Good Bones.
I have reread this blog several times and each time I get to the end knowing it is easy to dismiss as the idle musings of a muddled mind. That it may be, I’ll give you that.
Or not. I’ll leave that part to you.
Writing for profit is a fool’s game. I don’t, I write for myself. Some of my writing is profound, some is important, but most of it is neither of those two things. I am at my best as an observational humourist, filtering the mundane through the ‘amusing’ lens and writing.
David Sedaris is a great American observational humourist and he has unknowingly guided me as I spelunked my way through many a dark, confusing writing tunnel. He taught me to stop worrying about inspiration. He says that human beings are very funny, hilarious at times. The knack he says is to get better at seeing it. He is right, if I have grown as a writer it is because I am better now at ‘seeing’ us as we are, simple and complex, shallow and profound, tragic and hilarious. We are endlessly fascinating, a never ending source of writing inspiration.
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