Saturday, February 25, 2012

2012 02 25 I Think To Myself,

Well here I go again, writing about something. In my mind, I always ask myself what the heck am I gonna write about? I ask myself what the heck do I know about writing about stuff? I ask myself what am I doing writing about stuff anyways. What the heck am I doing?



Then I think to myself, “What a wonderful world.”



Are you smiling now?



It is a wonderful world, and there are a lot of things that I love about this wonderful world I live in. My passions come and go, but when it’s love, I know it. You know the feeling too, don’t you? When that shiver runs up and down your spine, when your face hurts from smiling, when you feel like jumping up and down, and dancing until the cows come home. There is no other feeling in the world that compares to love of something. Someone too, don’t get me wrong. Love is love, and no matter how you say it, how you spell it, how you try to explain it, it will always remain the same, and I love that.



There are so many different ways to love, so many different ways to feel it. It can come crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. It can sneak up from behind you and scare the crap out of you. It can smack you upside the head. It can take you by the hand and gently show you the way. It can, it has, and it will.



It can overwhelm you right out of the gate. It can leave you breathless, gasping for air. It can pound your heart right out of your chest. It can put a hop in your step and a sparkle in your eye. It can take you for the ride of your life, so you better sit down, strap in, and hang on, because with love, there are many twists and turns that come out of the blue and leave you speechless.



I have loved many things in my life, and some of them I didn’t even know it until it was too late, and it was gone. I have cried over love, laughed along side love, and been completely surprised over love. I have loved to do things, to see things, to feel things, to taste things, and to hear someone say, “I love you.” Well, that’s one of the best ways to have love affect you.



Now I am thinking about a grown man, quite large in stature, and huggable to no end, sitting here, and writing about love. If the guys on my old Babe? Ruth baseball team could see me now.



Please don’t tell them, ok?



I have always had an emotional side that was able to be heavily persuaded into an emotional state unlike anything I had ever felt. I usually ended up thinking I was odd for being a boy, and feeling as passionate about things as I was. Was it passion, or was it just pure love?



I love music, I love chocolate, I love steamed clams, I love the way my 12 string Fender acoustic sounds.



I love the sound when my Grandson says, “I love you Nunno.” I love my wife. I love my mom and dad. I love all my brothers and sisters, and the rest of my huge huggable family. I love sea food. I love my dogs and I almost love all of my cats. I love being able to live in the same house for almost thirty years. I love the smell and feel of freshly tilled earth. I love watching the corn stick its heads up out of the dirt two weeks after I plant it. I love taking a bite out of the first cuke of the season. I love to write.



So many things. So many people. So much to love.



I love to walk on the shore. I love to watch the sea gulls line up on the public landing in Rockland. I love to stand beside the light house at West Quoddy Head, and to walk out to Green Point. I love riding over the bridge to Campobello Island. I love to hear the laughter of children, and to hear the barking of a puppy. I love watching it’s a Wonderful Life. I love to watch the sunset across the mountains from my front lawn. I love to watch it snow. I love the smell of fresh cut grass. I love the sounds of a baseball game. I love walking in the main entrance to the Fryeburg Fair. I love walking along the huge rocks on a river bed. I love my slippers that my dad bought for me. I love the feeling when I have finished shoveling the driveway. I love walking along the shore, from Pine Point to Old Orchard Beach. I love hearing my son’s voice on the other end of a phone call.



Am I boring you, because I could go on all day long with this stuff.



I guess I will try to put a close to this post by saying that I love being able to love things. I hope that I am able to feel love this way until the day I die.



I also hope that you all have countless ways, and things to love. It really makes the spirit whole, and heals whatever ails a weary heart.



I almost forgot. I love the fact that God has put so many wonderfully incredible things on this planet to fall in love with.



And I think to myself, “What a wonderful world.”

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

2012 02 22 I Wish

I remember the other day, I was thinking to myself, “Man, I wish I was young. I wish I was a kid again.”

I remember when I was a little kid, saying to myself, “Man, I wish I was a grown up.”

Talk about role reversal. Talk about not knowing what the heck you want. Talk about it enough, and you’ll never forget it.

Everything about a grown up seemed so cool when I was a youngstah. It was so far ahead of me though, that I was sure it would never come to be. I was certain that I would be stuck in that little kid body forever, and never be able to enjoy all of the benefits that came with being a big person. It all seemed so glamorous and glorified. It was where you wanted to be. It was the cat’s meow, the talk of the town, the top of the mountain where you could be king of the hill. It was awesome, and I wanted me some.

Well, here I am, still searching for the glamour. Still looking for the glitter. Still waiting for the red carpet roll out. Still saying to myself, “I wish I was a kid again.”

How can that be? How could I have wished away something I would wish for later on? Why would anybody do that to themselves? Why didn’t someone tell me what was going on? Hello?

As a child, I could see how the lives of the adults around me were so important. They were needed here, and wanted over there. There always seemed to be a hop in their step, and a sparkle in their eye. They knew what to do, and when to do it. Kids didn’t have to worry, because the grown ups knew it all.

Ok, you can stop laughing now.

They seemed as though they really did though. So many problems were solved by grown ups. So many lives were touched and made better by grown ups. So many things were done, and built, and thought up by grown ups. They had it all! They had it all, and I wanted me some.

Oh it was fine and all being a kid and everything. I mean, how could it not be? Thanks to you grown ups, I had whatever I needed. Whatever it was, you guys thought it up, and made sure that it was available to us kids. By the way, thanks a lot.

I used to look up to you guys, and just stare at your amazing ability to be big people. It was truly an incredible feat. One that I was pretty sure that I would never have a firm grasp on. I mean, how could a little kid like me, ever get to be as important as you guys were? It just seemed so untouchable to me.

So there I was, stuck, as a kid. Playing, and running, and laughing, and eating, and sleeping, and swimming, and playing ball, and riding bikes, and swinging. Actually, it was all quite tiring being a kid. I’m glad I ate a big breakfast.

One thing happened though, and it happened really, really fast. Somewhere along the way, I seemed to have misplaced my childhood. I thought I set it right over, no, it’s not there. I still can’t seem to find it. Have you seen it?

How could I have misplaced something of such great importance? How could I end up, here? How did I turn into a grown up without even knowing it? There were no road signs, no television infomercials, no small print, nothing. It just happened without warning.

I thought that when I started turning into an adult that it would be so much fun. I thought everyone would notice and tell me how much of a good time I was about to have. I thought that my head would be instantly filled up with all of that grown up stuff that used to amaze me as a kid.

Nope.

Nothing.

Just me, and all of my kid things tagging along behind.

I got bigger as I got older, and things started to not fit me. Big deal. I was twice the size as I used to be, with twice as many kid things, and now I was looking down at another little kid that looked just like me, and a pretty lady that seemed to like being around me. I guess I had convinced her somehow that I was, indeed, a grown up. I don’t have the heart to tell her, or is it the other way around?

Was this the same thing as being a grown up? Was I grown up? How did I get behind the wheel of this car? I never thought I would ever be able to figure out how to drive a car, let alone a big truck. Me? No frikkin way!

There must be a manual somewhere that tells me, step by step, what I am supposed to do. I mean what am I supposed to do with this mini me staring at me from that play pen, and who put that playpen in the middle of the living room? I can’t even see the TV! Hello?

All of the kid things, all of the kid sounds, and smells, and everything that went along with being a kid, came along with me, taped around my ankles, dragging behind me. It’s a good thing they made kid things tuff back then.

I would give anything to have my Schwinn Sting Ray bike, my Speedway Sled, my first Franklin baseball glove, my first GT Skateboard, my old 45 record player, and all of my old Hot Wheels. That’s all I needed back then. Instant childhood dreams, just add the kid.

It was nice watching my son grow up. It allowed me to revert back to a lot of my childhood ways. It allowed me to forget all of the grown up things that I had to worry about all the time. It allowed me to continue where I left off.

And now I get one more shot as I listen to the sound of my grandson’s voice as he begins his kid interval. I get to remember when. I get to feel all of those feelings one more time, and it is a beautiful thing.

I can remember back then, thinking that I would never grow up. I would never be able to not be a kid, because it was taking a really long time to do all of the kid things on my list. I didn’t have time to be a grown up back then. There was just way too much to do, with all of the sliding, and sledding, and skating, and running, and jumping, and blaming my little brother, and throwing, and cart wheeling, and flipping, and wrestling, and hide and go seek, and baseball, and football, and hurling apples towards Walter’s work shop from the end of a long apple branch, and getting caught hurling apples towards Walter’s work shop from the end of a long apple branch, and snow ball fights, and jumping off the rope into the river at Pine Point, and blaming my little brother again, and digging in the sand at the other Pine Point, and  the jungle gyms, and the teeter totters, and the merry go rounds, and the Corn Festival, and watching the Portland Promenade fireworks from the front lawn, and don’t even get me started on Santa..

I really, really wish I was a kid again.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

2012 02 19 Well Hello There!

I haven’t written too much about my vision loss, and that surprises me, as it totally consumed most of my early days leading me away from that dark day back in June of 2010. It really does surprise me, seeing as how I could not stop thinking about it. I mean after all, I was living it. I couldn’t get away from it. I couldn’t stop thinking about. It totally consumed every aspect of my days and nights. I would go to sleep at night thinking about it, and I would wake up in the morning thinking about it. There wasn’t too much time during the course of the day when I wasn’t wrapping my melon around it either. I just couldn’t get away from it. None of it.

Some of my first dreams that I had after losing my sight were usually scripted from the same framework. I would be able to see in the dream, then I would realize that I was supposed to be blind. The feeling that I got in those dreams was truly made of goodness, as I was instantly cured, and my vision restored. Though somewhere along the dream I would finally realize that it in fact was a dream, and that I was part of it.

Cruel joke on me by my psyche? Perhaps so, but I took those wonderful feelings of sight with me into my day, and they kept me company through many dark days.

Other than the love of my wife, and family, along with a lady named Leona, I didn’t really have much to latch onto back then.

Back then. Kind of makes it sound like so long ago. In a way, it was a long time ago. Nearly twenty one months have gone by, and we’re headed towards twenty two.

Like I was saying before my tangent laden mind took off on me again, I really didn’t have much to latch on to back then. I had family, and God only knows where I would be right now without them.

I couldn’t though, find many positives in those first few weeks, and most days found me scratching and clawing to make it to my pillow again at the end of the day. I would randomly break down in tears at the drop of a thought. I would easily crawl into a corner, wound up tightly into a neat little ball of thumb sucking adolescent behavior that would closely resemble that of a lost infant soul, crying out for help, but not knowing where the help was being offered from. I could have easily fallen pray to the demons in my head, and stayed that way for the rest of my life.

I don’t think anyone really knows how they would react in situations, unless they actually have to live them. The old sayings tend to hold true at every turn.

With some amazing help, and tremendous guiding hands, I have been able to fight my way out of my “being” state of mind, and found my way into the “doing” phase of my current existence. I do so like the latter so much more. I am also aware that at the drop of a hat, I could easily fall back into the 4 bedroom condo between my ears. I mean, it is spacious, and has a wonderful view. Low rent, public transportation, how could anybody could go wrong?

I can’t stay there though. I have tried it a couple of times, and it does nothing for me. It is useless. It is a stain on success. It is marred with roadblocks and detours that lead me back to the same stupid spot, inside my head.

I listen to my iPod every night before I nod off into la-la land. My music, as I have written about, manages to somehow keep me whole. It lives within me, and plays 24/7.

I have met some amazing people through all of my vocational rehab, and am sure that I will continue to meet more as I chug along. I have gone through, and completed my pc training. I was sad to see that come to an end, but my tutor told me that I was at the point where he really couldn’t teach me anything else. That was the first time that being called a “no it all” was a good thing.

I am still working on my Orientation and Mobility lessons, and will continue with them until my instructor Rosemary has had enough of me. I usually get the crap scared out of me on every lesson, still, and that is a good thing, because if I stop feeling, then I stop learning. I feel like learning still, so they go hand in hand. I still don’t like my cane very much, but it has gotten me through some incredible obstacles, so I have to give it credit. It’s not a bad cane, it just keeps reminding me that I am blind, and I hate that. I hate it with a passion. I am getting used to the fact, but it is still quite an annoyance.

I have written about a lot of different things these past months. I have been submitting some of the pieces I have written and have actually had some luck with getting a few of them published. I belong to two writers groups, and have been to the State Capital twice in the last two weeks. I have witnessed the state forums of legislature for the first time, and it excites me to think where my future will take me. That, in and of itself, is so different than my past. I was so complacent back then, and was satisfied to just “be” for the remainder.

I don’t want to just “be” any more. I really feel like I have to “do”, and so, here I go.

I will end here, so that I can annoy you all at a later date.

Stay warm, and keep well all.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

02 14 2012 Happy Valentine's Day!

Is it Valentine’s Day?



Did I hear someone say, “Chocolate?”



I really think I heard someone mutter that wonderful nine letter word. I am fairly positive of it. If I listen really hard, I can almost, taste it!



There is nothing quite like the tantalizing taste of milk chocolate. There never has been. There never will be. It is a food group in itself, and it should be celebrated three hundred sixty seven days a year. That should give you a two day head start on next year I figure. You can eat a lot of chocolate in two days.



I have always loved the melting chocolaty taste. I have always loved the way it feels as it smooshes between my teeth, cavities and all. I do love and crave other tasty tidbits, but this melt able, mixable delight has fastened itself securely onto my taste buds, and it ain’t letting go any time soon.



Look at all the wonderful ways you can enjoy this passionate pleasure. I mean the ways are infinite, and they are coming out with new ways every day! It is just plain fantastic!



M&M’s, Hershey Bars, Nestle’s Crunch, 3 Musketeers, Rolo’s, Clark Bars, 5th Avenues, Pom Poms, Junior Mints, Sky bars, Snickers, Milky Ways, $100,000 Bars, Pay Days, Baby Ruths, Mars Bars, Whatcha-Ma-Callits, Tootsie Rolls, and the talent show winner, Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, my personal favorite. I firmly believe that the creative inventor that graced us with this masterpiece of mouth watering marvel should be Sainted, or Knighted, or at least patted heartedly on the back. I mean he changed the world, or was it a she?



Wikipedia if you please!



I have said before that there really isn’t any crisis that couldn’t be made better with the influx of chocolate. I truly do believe it, and will go to my chocolate chip grave believing it. I mean really!



Oh ya, Milk Duds. Remember those? The old filling puller outers? If you could ever pry them off your teeth, you might be able to swallow them. Something about that chocolate, caramel combination.



Chocolate Blizzard, with Reece’s Cups anybody? How about flooding the top of it with some piping hot fudge? Are you licking your lips?  :P



I could eat one of those a day until I die, and it still wouldn’t be enough.



I guess that I am lucky that I married a girl who loves the milky stuff as much as I do. I am blessed. There were times in my life when I really didn’t crave it s I do now. I had other influences back then, and although my mind drifted hither and dither, it soon found its way back to old faithful.



I almost forgot about Little Debbie and her Cosmic Brownies! How could I do that? And then there is Suzy Q’s, and Hostess Cup Cakes, and Chocolate Éclair Pies and chocolate pudding and chocolate covered cherries, and something that I have just tried for the first time the past couple of years, chocolate covered strawberries. O! M! G! Heaven growing on a bush, and dipped in her majesty! I was resurrected when I first tasted these, so I could die and go to Heaven one more time. I mean my favorite fruit, smothered in my favorite other thing! The taste sent my brain into a delirious, hand dipped dimension that I never knew existed. All of the wonder of my imagination had come full circle, and so I had to eat it.



Oh I almost forgot about Whoppers! How stupid of me. I realize there are probably a quazillion other chocolate treats that I haven’t mentioned in here, and please feel free to post a comment and remind me of some of your favorites, either from your childhood, or as an overly ambitious adult. It’s all good. Yes, Oh yes, it’s all good.



Did I mention that it’s all good? Good!







No matter what ails ya, no matter who dissed ya, no matter how bad your day is going, you can turn it all around at the drop of a chocolate chip in your mouth. That’s all there is to it. It’s really quite simple, and for me, simple is good.



I just heard about another wonderful invention today, and I think I am going to try and convince my wife to see if she can maneuver some onto a baking rack at 350 degrees for fifteen minutes.



Are you ready for this? Are you sitting down? Are you sure?



Here goes.



Oreo’s baked into a chocolate chip cookie.



Can you imagine it? Can you taste it? Can you believe it took until 2012 for someone to think of this? Me either!



I am humbled with the creativity of some people. I just wish they would call me sooner when they think up something this incredible. The imaginations will keep on thinking up different ways of enjoying the smooth rich taste of chocolate, and I will keep going on my search and eat quest. There’s nothing like it, there’s nothing wrong with it, there’s nothing you can do to make it better than it already is. It will stand alone in my Hall of Fame tastes, and I pray to God that he has some stored upstairs, if you know what I mean? Yes, I do have every intention of heading north after all is said and done, if you please. Smile.



Please, always remember, and never forget that no matter where you go, there you are, so have some chocolate and be well.



Happy Valentine’s Day!

Sunday, February 5, 2012

2012 02 05 I Love Dogs

I love dogs!

I didn’t really realize how much I love dogs until my wife brought home our first dog back in 1989. His name was Barkley.

I have a special place in my heart for dogs. I feel that a lot of them have a special place in their hearts for me too. It is a close knit bond between us that over the years seems to have grown.

I don’t know what it is, but when I know there is a dog near me, they consume my attention. They bounce around and drool and bark and whine and lick themselves in many peculiar places, but none of that matters to me. I am consumed with their presence, and if they are anywhere near me, then I will do whatever I can to pet them. I can’t help it. They just seem to need a good petting.

Usually when I am aware of a dog near me, I break out in a heavy smile, and breathe in a deep sigh. They have placed a spell on me. I am a dog person, plain and simple. Even now, when I can’t see them, I can sense they are there, wagging their tail with their tongues hanging out, just waiting for someone to tell them that they have been a good boy or girl. It seems that they crave attention, and I am more than happy to oblige.

I know that there are many people that just don’t feel this way about the canine family, and I will never understand their state of mind, nor will they probably ever understand mine. It is just a difference that we have.

We have lived in this same house since 1986 and we have had a handful of dogs along the way. Our first was Barkley. I used to call him “My Barksey Boys”, and he would smile at me when I got home from work, and walked out back to let him off of his runner. I can still see him smiling and shyly looking down at the ground as I came up to him. He was such a good boy. They all were.

He was a husky/shepherd mix that lived to be 17, and when he left, I had a hole in my heart.

Then there was my Bubby Boy. Fletcher, our beagle. I used to tell my wife that I was pretty sure I loved him more than I did her. She said that she felt the same. I couldn’t blame her, he was just so damn cool. Snoopy could never hope to be as cool as he was, not even close. Sorry Mr. Schultz. He was our poop-a-doo, our bubbazess, our doo doo, our little Popo. He graced our lives for ten years. It was ten full years of a closeness that only he was able to bring us. He was the meaning of “Companion” complete. He changed my life, and I thank him for it.

I didn’t realize how special this dog was until one day, out of the blue when he was roughly a year old, he jumped up onto my lap and proceeded to put his forehead against mine and pressed against me, all the while, staring into my eyes. There we were, eye to eye, and all I could do was asking my wife what in hell he was doing. She, like me, didn’t have a clue, and all I could do then was laugh and hug him.

We continued to go through this ritual at least a couple times a day for the rest of our time together. I didn’t ask why, I was just grateful that he chose me.

The love that our dogs have given us is unmatched and unique. Whenever I have felt down, they were there to cheer me up. Whenever I was happy, they were there to share my joy. Whatever my mood, their love and devotion never swayed or faded or changed. They were always there to offer their unconditional love.

We have two dogs right  now, Deena and Coco. Coco is a husky/black lab/Shetland pony mix, and Deena is a hair omitting skinny curly tailed lady husky that has agreed to let us live with her. We are fortunate that she hasn’t gone up on the rent since 2008. Coco is just one of the happiest dogs I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. She has filled my heart with so many pleasant and wonderful memories. Just her demeanor is so uniquely care free and happy. She is very protective though, and our house is her castle. She is a sentry at the gate, and I truly believe she would guard it to the end. Thanks Coco.

Deena is a dainty lady in disguise. Don’t let her dainty demeanor fool you. She has a side to her that rivals any of the fiercest I have ever seen. The only time we witness this side of her though is when she is around Coco. She hates her, and other than wanting to eat her, they get along somewhat well.

She has hip displeasure, and Coco’s relentless playful attempt towards her finally took its toll one day. Deena had enough, and since then, well, she never seems to forget.

We have been graced by a couple other dogs as well. Ruby and Misty did get to spend their remainders of life with us. From the shelter, straight into our hearts, they made their way with dignity and love. I feel very fortunate to have had the chance to get to know them, be it for a brief spell, but it was time that I will never forget. Thanks girls.

The cats, well, that is another blog post in itself. I love my cats, but my dogs consume my attention. There is just something about a cold, wet nose and a warm lick that starts my day off on the right foot.

I realize that everything we own is loaded with drool, and smells like a wet dog, and everything we wear is plastered with canine mohair. All I need now is an electric Zoot, and Benny and the Jets would be banging on our front door, along with Candy and Ronnie.

I love dogs, and always will. Their innocence and unabashed loyalty makes me feel somehow complete. I pity the person that tries breaking into our home with the two we have now. I just pity them.

There is only one thing that gains my attention like the presence of a dog. Well, I should say there is two things, well maybe three, ok, there are a lot of things that feel the same. When my wife smiles at me, the voice of my grandson, a hug from my son, and the sound of a puppy barking. Smile. See, I am smiling just thinking of it.

Puppies rule and I am a complete sucker for them. When I used to be able to watch them, I would smile and laugh uncontrollably. They still have the same effect on me now whenever I hear that cute as hell little puppy bark. I can just picture them hopping and falling over their own little oversized puppy feet. I can not explain it. ‘they are just the cutest damn thing in the world. A bundle of excited joy that seeps its way into my heart, and fills my soul with dog treats. Thank you god for puppies.

As the old title of the animated movie stated, “All Dogs Go to Heaven”. I can’t imagine any other place where they would fit in. Nowhere.

I told my grandson Jack that all of our dogs that have gone to heaven are up there, running in a meadow, chasing butterflies. I could tell from the pause that he was picturing it.

So am I.


Saturday, February 4, 2012

02 04 12 The Color green

It has been eighteen months since I lost my vision. It has been just as long since I have seen the color green.

It has been a lifetime since I have gazed into my wife’s eyes. My heart used to flutter so when she looked into my eyes. I think I miss that most of all.

So much has changed in my life since that day two summers ago. So many things are different now. I try and tell myself that I have gained as much as I have lost, but it is not true. It doesn’t even come close.

I can tell myself that I have gained all the wonderful parts of my life that exist now, and I would not ever be lying. I can tell myself that I am better off these days because I am learning more about myself, from the inside out. I can tell you that I had to become blind, so that I could now see. I can come up with a thousand different clichés, and for the most part, they would all be true, but it still doesn’t lift the burdens that come along with my condition.

Condition? I know of one person, that if I told her that I had a condition, she would go up one side of me, and down the other, isn’t that right Leona? Smile. I will refrain from ever describing myself in that way ever again or at least for the remainder of this post.

When I lost my vision, I was awarded with little bits and small spurts of regained vision the first several months. I was able to gain more and more every day of my surroundings. Although these were very slim and small changes and improvements, they were improvements none the less, and I welcomed them all with open arms and tear filled eyes.

Probably the best gift I have been given since I lost my vision happened one day in early September of 2010, just two short months after losing my sight. I was out in the back yard one sunny morning with my wife, and our dog Deena. I had just put Deena in the pen and turned to walk to the bird feeder where Lynne was. As I approached her, I could swear I caught a faint glimpse of her face in the sunlight. I told her to hold still, and I approached her closer. There she was. The girl that I had fallen in love with. She was standing right in front of me, and I could see her. Not for long, but I could see her. The skin tone colors of her face were as I had always remembered. The outlines of her smile, the dark lines of her eyebrows, the shadows outlining her eyes and mouth, nose, cheeks, and eyes, and those eyes! My oh my those eyes. For a brief second of time that will live in my memory forever, I caught a quick glimpse of her blue eyes. They were there, as they had always been, sparkling in the morning sun. They were there, as I had seen them a thousand times. The same eyes that I had fallen in love with thirty years before.

I thank God for that moment of clarity. That snapshot that’s saved on my portable hard drive. I can pull it up and look at it whenever I want to. It will always be with me, as I hope so will she.

Another one of the best things was being able to call mom and dad and let them know that I could see red, or orange, or the chain link fence of the dog pen, or the Beware of Dog sign on the front door of the garage. Even though I couldn’t read the sign, I could see it, and it was wonderful.

The sky turned blue again, along with the Wal Mart sign on the front of the store. Whenever I see the color blue now, I call it Wal Mart Blue. It just seems to fit.

That blue color is really the only color that remains seeable to me now. As these last twelve months have passed, my colors have faded. The reds are dulling, the oranges are setting, but the blues remain, along with yellows. I still can see faint reds and dulled oranges, but they are not any where near as vivid as they were last year.

I still have yet to see the color green. Brown too for that matter. I guess they are set low on the vividity scale. Is vividity a word? Spell check please!

Well if it isn’t, it is now! George Bush has nothing on me!

I am going to hang on to as much color as I can, and will cherish any that make their way into my day. And for the colors that I can no longer see, I know you’re out there, I can hear you breathing! Just knowing you all are there is half the battle. The other half still lives in my mind, and it will help me to never forget.

How can I ever forget forty nine years, ten months, and four wonderfully glorious days of Roy G. Biv?


Friday, February 3, 2012

2012 02 03 Nothing Ever Is Until It Becomes

Hi everyone. I hope you are all staying warm and well so far this winter.



As a lot of you know, I have done a lot of writing since I lost my vision eighteen months ago. I have written about a lot of different things. I have written a lot of different ways. I have written about a lot of different emotions, some of which I have no idea what they really mean.



I have written short stories, kids stories, blog entries, mobility lesson overviews, personal stuff, non personal stuff, and other things that I am not certain what to call. I have written a bunch of poems, and almost half of them circle around my vision loss, and how it has affected me. Some of the poems are rather dark and bleak, and I really had no intentions of starting, or finishing pieces that wrapped around  this subject. They just seem to appear on the screen after I just start typing. I can’t explain why, or how, all I can do is just read them afterwards. Most of the time I read these after I have written them, I really can’t remember much of the actual writing process. It is like I am experiencing the written piece for the first time.It is pretty weird, and pretty unexplainable, but it is what it is.



I started writing a sstory one week for an exercise in one of my writers groups. It was supposed to be a Halloween piece. I really tried to write something, a short story that would only take up six or seven pages. As I got a few pages into the piece, I knew that this short story was going to develop into something a heck of a lot longer than six or seven pages. I ended the first chapter, with the end nowhere in sight. This morning, I submitted chapters fourteen and fifteen to the group, with the end nowhere in sight. I have not a clue what I am doing, but the journey that has taken shape is well worth the ride.



The same sort of writing experience takes hold of me when I am writing these chapters. I sit in front of the pc screen with my fingers on the keys, and I usually have no clue where my fingers will take my mind, or is it the other way around? As I start typing, a movie plays in my mind. In all it’s cinematic magic, the characters appear, the actions take shape, and the story moves on, and once again, as I read the chapter back, it is like I am reading someone else’s work.



I think I am possessed. PC gremlins or something.



I try to lay out these chapters in my mind before I start writing them, but nothing ever takes shape. Nothing ever finalizes.



Nothing ever is until it becomes.



I have told this to the writers group, and some of them say it is a gift to be able to write like this. Most of these people, with years of writing experience, tell me they need to do a story line, and lay out all the details of characters, events, places, everything before they start the project.



I am sure that by me not doing these things, I will eventually run into problems. I will get stuck. I will hit dead ends, or blank pages, or uncertainty. With all this in mind, I keep pounding the keys, and hope for the best. I don’t really hope actually, I just type.



I am so fortunate and grateful that I was able to learn how to touch type. It has opened up so much of my mind. It has given me new avenues to explore, and believe me when I tell you, when I leave my mind alone, it does explore.



I have always tended to flow from one thing, quickly into another, when it comes to this rusty, gear driven machine between my ears. I don’t argue with it any more. I just let it go where it wants to.



One thing is for certain, without the advice of drugs and alcohol, and no nicotine, it tends to have a larger capacity fuel tank, so I don’t have to find a gas station as often as I used to. It just goes, and goes, and goes. That energizer bunny dude ain’t got nuthin on me.



I have always been able to play things out rather vividly in my mind. I have always had a great imagination, and it has taken me to many places in my life. With my typing always improving, I am able to put my imaginations, my vivid possibilities, all of the wondrous imagery of my mind, all of it is able to be put onto the pc screen. I can’t see the screen, but I can feel the stories, my imagination if you will,  scrolling up the monitor.



I do love to write. I always have. I always will. Hi Coco. Good girl. Cold nose. Sorry, got distracted. Smile.



Where was I?



I love to write. I will keep on writing. I have been told that some of the stuff I write is actually pretty good. I am glad that other people like some of the things I write. When I read back the things I have written, and I smile, or frown, or cry, I know that I like it too, because it makes me feel. That’s really all that counts to me. If I enjoy what I write, then I will always keep on.



I don’t know what I will ever do with all this stuff. I don’t know where I am going to put it all. It’s kinda like all this snow Matt! Smile. Really, one of the best things my screen reader says to  me is, “Save as”. All of these things, all of these feelings, all of these instant mind folding tangents, all of them categorized, backed up, saved as, it all represents who I am, what I think, where I have been and what directions I choose to go.  In the end, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?

Now, let’s see, control s, save as. Perfect..