Friday, January 16, 2009

Why I've been MIA

I've been mostly out of sight because there is LOTS for me to be on top of at the moment.

My Dad has been moved from the hospital to a physical rehab facility. There are some questions and decisions he'll have to make. We shall see what the next few days bring.

That said, I still have much to do on the job and with my writing so my apologies to everyone who has not heard or seen me in a while. I promise to do better at multi-tasking my life. ;-)

On top of all this I still have much planning ahead for more permanent housing for myself, journeys to take this year and looking for advantages rather than allow the turmoil in the media world drive me to panic. I am quite certain this will be a game changing year in many ways.

I do plan to unwind tonight... with some freshly baked brownies and the return of "Battlestar Galactica".

I promise to be more sociable by morning.

Monday, January 12, 2009

A Man of Four Minds

There are times I need to divide myself into separate entities to complete certain goals.

I think it would take at least four of me to get the job done.

J.P., Son of his Parents: This version of me would spend the broad breadth of the day overseeing matters on behalf of his folks. There are a number of challenges my folks are facing and because I am the youngest, no dependents and unmarried, certain members of the extended family think it would be a good idea for me to be BACK under my parents' roof.

That is not even a real topic for discussion. What needs to happen is we reorganize how my folks are setup. I've been clamoring for change for years.

IF I were a proponent of Objectivism or Social Darwinism, I might totally shrug off their needs and let them to fall while I look out for my interests alone. At the same time, I am not an absolute altruist though I have gone through my share of pains to help the family out and vice versa. Pragmatism is the best approach here as we see figure out what realistically can happen for them.

J.P., Ace Reporter: Maaaaaaaaan, the media world is crazy right now. The challenges the print industry faces have been building over time. This did not happen overnight though the actions by large newspaper publishers have been drastic. I thankfully am working more broadly in terms of my role in the newsroom. My byline may appear a little less in print but that is because I am busy steering things on the Web. Welcome to the social media frontier, kids.

Joao-Pierre, Author: Working on Heritage House has shown me some of the flaws in Riding Ten Thunders, but I cannot spend too much time on rewrites. I have to move the new book forward. Writing books is like trying to wrestle a big boa into a cage; the snake is always slipping under your fingers and can turn around and crush your soul if you are not careful.

J.P., flying a kite: Somewhere in the recesses of my mind there is that me who is sitting on a blanket on top of a green hill, flying a kite. The sky is cerulean and near sparkling in its brightness. I'm snacking on slices of green apple and peanut butter, chasing it all down with a glass of Riesling. And there is a puppy or two scampering around playfully.

In order for me to fly kites again, I need to move the other three parts more forward. Nailing a bestseller with any of my book projects is a loft wish... but doable. Then I can enjoy all the sweet casual comfort I want... But until then I have much work ahead...

and miles to go before I sleep.

Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away