Bukowski

I’ve seen his name many times. I’ve seen Bukowski quotes often. But yesterday, I saw him on you tube.

I have a lot in common with Bukowski. And that was why his writing became so popular. People could relate to his life. We have many differences as well. Who knows, after all it was only about an hour long interview. So, how much can I really compare. He doesn’t like people. He liked a solitary existence and he liked to drink beer. He said his childhood was a hell.

A big difference between him and I was; he wrote. And he worked. I worked here and there, but he was more successful at keeping a job than I was. He would write about his experiences. I couldn’t do that. Until I finally did. Also, he said his only concern was for himself. I have been entirely too co-dependent in my life to make such a statement.

And he always wrote in first person. He didn’t write for “success”. He wrote to stay alive. (check)

He drank a lot. It looked like his choice was beer. (check)

I no longer drink beer. I quit at thirty one, by going to AA. (Let’s get real. AA is no longer an anonymous society) When I came in, it was a different time. A different world and I loved it. It’s had it’s rocky moments. But I overcame them all. – Then the judges started sending in all their D.U. I. people. And in the early nineties, people began to substitute psychotropics for their inventories.

Now I have tremendous conflict in meetings. I have fat boys, that don’t like what I say. Good Lord they need to look in the mirror and while they are at it, they should record the stupid shit that they are saying.

I was all well and good with the conflict. I have always heeded to the last paragraph on page 19. Respect everyone’s share. Then started the attacks. I have been verbally attacked in the past, but this was a barrage. Fuck that. It’s because I have become old. They look at me with my grey hair and choose me as prey. They have no idea.

For example: One guy looks like Homer Simpson. He says that only the first eighty eight pages, in the Big Book count. He is disparaging of women’s shares. He wanted to buy a 5000 square foot house. And he wonders why he can’t get along with his wife. He was in meetings for 14 years and never worked a step. Now he has and he is on fire for everyone to be like him. FMD — One meeting, I was sharing my experience, of my first sponsor being Buddhist. He screamed at me, “This has nothing to do with Buddhism.” blahblahblah – The other fat boy is just fat and he thinks he’s good looking. He cut me off. He didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He obviously thinks he is interesting.

My thoughts behind this is – What would it have been like if Bukowski came to a meeting.

WOW

I am so inspired by his words. Because I know they are true. But in a meeting he would be a challenge. It might be a better option for some people to just stay home and write.

Who needs fake authenticity.

God Knows

Leaning off the edge of the bed, touching the weights, that remind her of her infirmities, she rose up.

Walking in the dark, she paced herself.

She placed her elbows on the table, in front of her computer. She began to cry.

God knows, she has so much to rise above.

ROOTS

Black and White

Here I am again. Who cares? I do.

I was recently told that my writing, in this blog is not good. That it is stream of consciousness.

To each his own, said the old lady that kissed the cow.

Did I write that correctly? Is that punctuated correctly?

I don’t know and I don’t give a sh*t.

These are the hindrances that keeps someone from writing. It’s what can constipate your life.

I own this blog. I own my words. This is my journal. I have made it clear, I do not write to attract readers. I could care less who reads it. It’s not for the readers. It is for me. It is for my survival.

So, is it good? Yes, it’s good.

I have been doing a lot of writing off line. My daughter’s passing away. My conflict with family. My internal struggles have been too much to put out there. So, I write on paper. And I write in my Pages App. Cancer is Personal. My Family is a Cluster F*CK

I encourage anyone and everyone to write. It is medicine for your soul. No one is going to care about your being more than yourself.

EXPRESS YOURSELF

A State of Being

perennial – adjective – everlasting, perpetual eternal, continuing, unending, never-ending, endless, undying, ceaseless, abiding, enduring, lasting, unchanging, never-changing

~ The spanish word for death is muerte. To die is morir. It’s a verb that indicates an indefinite change. Death is not the end.

Today is Aislinn’s birthday.

I remember the day she was born. It was conflict from the onset. My mother and sister brought me home, from the hospital. I thought it was more important, for my husband to work, but I was wrong. We needed that bonding. We needed a lot of things. THINGS we never got; love, attention, direction.

I can remember her entire life. What we had together.

One day, we all will not be – but we will.

Skinning Cats

Out with the Old – In With ?

I suppose it’s a matter of perspective. – Today, I was headed to Jacksonville on A1A. There are now, “don’t bother the birds” signs, on the best beach, for flounder fishing. Another spot gone.

If you’re new here to Amelia Island, you are surely calling it paradise. Jetting around in your new car, that you bought from your northern sale, profit. Good for you. You also complain about the slow cars. You’re on an island. Slow the fuck down, dumb ass.

The picture above is, of a building; a place where we use to get our tires fixed. It’s being demolished. Now you can go to Tire Kingdom and get ripped off. I took my truck to them and said, no thank you. They just weren’t qualified to touch my truck. I have to go to Yulee for good service. But there’s a long wait.

One mile up the road, across the street from Winn Dixie are hobo camps. They hide by the CSX tracks and shoot fentanyl. It’s a sad world out there. But they too have discovered paradise. The word is out!

Everybody wants what they want. From high rise condos that are apt to collapse over time, to lost souls deteriorating amongst brown, fallen palm tree fronds. I just want to fish, and be in unpolluted ocean water. Sales and marketing didn’t bring me here. Neither did the whispers of the Jacksonville junkies.

I’m the kind of person, that runs ahead of the crowd. My good fortune has been my love of nature and dislike of pretentious bullies.

So, I will rely on my years of patience and perseverance.

I will skin this cat.

Meeeooowwww!

Rise Up

The silence is deafening. So much so, that I hear the mill droning on. It’s creating the low lying pollution, blanketing our island. Someone is taking advantage of this situation. The non-happening, of everyone staying inside. Of course, not all. There will always be dare devils.

The image above is of a Phoenix. I plan to have this tattooed on my back/shoulder. I have an appointment, on my birthday. That is if the parlor is open.

I have risen from the ashes.

And one day, I will fly away.

Continue reading Rise Up

In the Mean ~ Time

I have a passion, for helping others. I don’t always get to help the ones that I would like to, but I do get to help. And along the way, I can’t forget myself. Givers must have boundaries, because takers don’t. (if you’re looking for information, that is a jewel)

The comment above is written by a life long friend, Mary Ann. As teenagers, I thought that if I didn’t help her, she would surely get hurt. We had so much fun as kids. I would have her sit above the tire, on our antiquated, Ford tractor and go as fast as I could, “bajaing” across a plowed field, trying to throw her off. Her job was to hang on.

Then there was the day, we flew out over a ravine, her in the seat of a rope swing and me, standing on the sides of the wooden board that supported her. We would jump off of a platform, high up in a pine tree. We would swing out and circle back, coming back to the tree trunk and missing it by inches.

Our antics go on and on. The beauty of youth. The best part of younger years.

I search for the right answers. I will survive, until I don’t.

Maintain a Blog

blog phot

To maintain a blog was advice, on how to be a professional photographer, from one of those many “how to” cyber sites. I did get some good ideas from my reading. It’s just that, I know, I am not able, to follow the advice. My lifestyle leads itself to the impossible, on one hand, and endless possibilities on the other. My life is a lazy, busy, intricate web of photography, nature, and people. Every day brings about different colors, cultures, animals and moods. The one consistent is, there is no consistence.  Continue reading Maintain a Blog