A Noodle Brain A-Noodling In A Day Dream

Stream of consciousness smacks me in the face so hard that it’s more akin to a raging river.  Instead of myself drowning, I see bits of wisdom twist and tumble by on the crests of rapids, falling beneath the surface like my wife and I once did on a swimmer’s rapid in West Virginia, only to resurface once more - distant and out of reach.

Stray epiphanies like dogs not neutered have multiplied and they're lost in my mind like so many fish that got away, soon to settle back into their dens for a long unbroken rest.  I trudge through the waters and stick my hand in every hole I can find, hoping with futility that I might scurry something up from the muck and noodle a good one.

I feel like a street light flickering - inconsistent at best, and unable to truly light the darkness even when I’m lit.  I am a moth attracted to a distant and dingy yellow haze.  I am the light at the end of my own tunnel, yet I can’t seem to mind-wrap a way to connect the dots la-la-la-la.

Always the internal dialogue speaks first of brief revelation, then longer of self-loss - an incessant and demanding distraction.

Maybe tonight I will write more of my book not-so-long forgotten.

Longing To Be A Leaf And Playing Clue With Life

Who killed Mr. Time?  Life, in the study, with distraction.

I haven't posted for awhile now, and I blame life.  Everytime I feel the desire to sit, think, and jot down words... something comes up.  I've also been spending more time writing Mr. Sir Awesome Masterpiece, Himself.

Now that I have more of an outline, my co-conspirator (we'll call him Alex Zander) has finally jumped on board and we've been taking turns writing, imagining, and sending the Word doc back and forth via email.  It's fun and more is getting done than when I work alone, though there is a lot more time spent having to take things from my brain and inject them into his... somehow... and small diferences in vision are less than exciting to resolve in 10 word snippets over email.  I'm also finding that my excessive use of "..." does not work as well in a novel as it does in a blog.

-~<>~-

My father posted a haiku on Facebook recently, as a tribute to his sunny fall day in South Carolina.  It inspired me to write my own haiku, as a tribute to the blustery fall day we had in Wisconsin.

Sunny Day

sunlit blooms cry out

take my beauty home with you

i seek love not frost

- AB 10/18/11

Blustery Day

wind blows leaf from tree

which falling down says goodbye

fitting end, old age

- JB 10/18/11

I someday hope to be as a leaf - to fall back to the earth and return to dust, having lived life whole and healthy, showing my true colors.

Mr. Sir Awesome Masterpiece, Himself

I'm at a coffee shop thinking and writing today, while my side-kick wife is off on an adventure of her own.  It's her side band, of sorts, to hang out with her friends... and I'm not the jealous type.  I hope she enjoys herself as much as I plan to.

One thing I'm doing right now is to try and consolidate a few of the sporadically written/typed thoughts for my sci-fi book, which at one time or another have flowed copiously from my brain.  Mind-wrapping them together is going to be a task without trying to organize them first.  Much of what I find is interesting, but more in the vein of a passing thought than a building block for a novel.  Some of the better stuff is fun to read again.  Because I haven't revisited much of it for over a year now, it's almost like I'm reading someone else's work.

Here is a passage that I found today, originally written on August 21st, 2010.  It is (in theory) coming from the Mr. Miyagi/Yoda-type character, as he tries to open the eyes of his protege.  What I like about it is that I feel it hits on a fundamental truth, yet I could never have come up with this myself without trying to dream up something which sounds mystical and profound - two words which I would never use to describe myself.  In a way, even though I wrote it, I didn't think of it... an imagined character did, and then shared it with me.

Some will tell you that man exists to bring order to the world.  We build things, we create, and our society provides structure for a life which, through sciences and intellectual discourse, is ever-advancing.

I believe that the world exists to help man bring himself into order, that the essence of knowledge is not what one knows about the world but what one knows about himself, and that all existence speaks to the reality of man. All we have to do is to learn to listen.

Other times I find little journal entries that I wrote from some character's perspective to try and get inside their mind.  Reading them again, I see myself in the character I'm trying to create.  Am I becoming more like them, as I dream them up... or are they just a reflection of a formerly hidden self that I am uncovering slowly?

I watch the leaves falling from the trees and wonder what it would be like to do the same - to watch as unwanted bits of myself fall slowly to the ground while the rest of me remains standing, solid, and resolute; growing through it all.

Is man capable of such a revolution as the changing of the seasons?

The last type of thing that I am finding are little blurbs written here and there as cultural proverbs, as a means of trying to delve into what makes a society tick.

If ever you arrive again at the same fork in the road, you must have chosen wrong the first time.

This is fun stuff for me, and should be exciting for you.  This post amounts to a free sneak-peak at my awesome masterpiece in-progress.

That noise you hear is joy within your heart - softly booming.

Book Writing And Devotionals

I've been writing again.

There exist two books which have been merrily swimming about in my brain juices for more than a few years.  One is a children's book, the other a science-fiction fantasy book.

The first book never goes the direction I feel it should, though I still think it works as a concept and have pieced together a story of sorts.  I downloaded a 'Publishing Children's Books: For Dummies' book on my iPhone, but got distracted by writing the sci-fi fantasy book before I could get too far into learning the next steps.  The sci-fi fantasy book, I think, is finally mapped out in enough detail and realism that it will work if I can just bring myself to put the detail to the pages.  My plan is to just publish it in electronic form, maybe as a free kindle book.  Hopefully the catharsis merits the effort.

**If I die before accomplishing anything of note, search my computer and journals.  There's enough material there for someone to be a starving artist.

As someone who plays too much Fantasy Football and mindlessly watches/consumes the NFL in copious portions, I have decided to try and make this time less of a complete waste.  I've contacted at least one person about starting a Sunday Football devotional.  Since I'm a misplaced Titan's fan living in the frozen tundra, I've succumbed to peer pressure and will name it "Prayers then Packers."

The concept is easy - praise God, then waste a few hours of the life He gave you.

Anyone interested, shoot me an email.  I don't know how large we'll grow this, as it isn't likely to be hosted at my (cable tv free) house, but we'll see what happens - and inter-faith devotionals are always the best.  I figure, that way we increase the odds that one of us is praying in the right direction.