Tag: philosophy

Post Pre-Historic

Yes, this is me. Slowly and painfully edging my way out of this place they call “pure vida”. Survivng here these years has turned me into a creature. I wanted to play National Geographic and that I did. Having stumbled onto Costa Rica, when it was wide open. Water falls, heat springs, no dirt roads, no ride signs. It was the best. It was adventuring into the wild. With the flora and fauna, size determined by season and state of the nation.

One adventure after another, that have barely been touched on, in this 700 page blog.

And now the party is over, (for us) and on for the next layer of fools.

I tip toed. It’s easy to see the rip offs. The lies. The beating. The murders. We have only been out in the night time here, maybe an equal to a week, in twenty five years.

I am now a fossil. One that can run, jump and swim. I am ready to go home. Battle the Bay Watch Babe with the Band Aid, in the slit of her cheeks. I won’t Battle that bitch, I will look to the side. For a new venue. New water. One that she has not polluted and (she is a large representation).

I’ll have plenty to do.

I am packing as if I have already sold my home. It’s becoming more easy to sea. Easier to detach from, since the clash with the Bahia Del Sol.

Costa Rica ain’t what it use to be.

I wish them all the luck in the world.

Pura Vida and we all know what that really means.

My formative years

I just watched a movie about the Chicago 7. I was such an activist. It seems I was born that way. I cannot hate black people or people of other cultures.

I never wanted to wear silk stockings, rollers in my hair, in the night, and take notes from men and type, type, type.

Those were hard times. My parents were on the other side/ I won’t defend them. One did not like me, one did not understand.

Yes, they loved my brother. And here we are today.

It’s funny.. My cousin recently told me how my sister Angel was so smart to cook my father’s breakfast every morning. He doesn’t know she would beat me up if I went into the kitchen. I wasn’t allowed.

I was allowed to carry out the garbage.

I am still carrying out the garbage. To this day. Garbage is garbage.

Direction

Como Las Vacas – Live Like The Cows – This is a Costa Rican dicho. Near and dear to my heart. I was raised with cattle. A North Florida, educated Cracker. I once lived in a cow pasture. I like to live close to the the earth/with nature. I slow down. I turtle trot. I swim like a fish unchased. I swim like a fish not hungry. It’s not about me. I am blessed. Pura Vida……amigos….

Choose your path – with a moral compass.

Limbo

“Limbo” can refer to a state of uncertainty, a medieval theological concept, or a 2010 puzzle-platformer video game. The term describes being in a state of suspension, waiting for an unclear outcome, or in a state of being between two places or stages. Theologically, it was the border place between heaven and hell where unbaptized souls were believed to reside.

I live in Limbo – it’s a tent in my back yard.

Limbo – it’s not for everyone.

Hope

Hope can be tricky.

You hope to catch a fish. You hope the rain holds off. You hope your house is still standing when you return home. You hope your mother loves you. You hope that someone will love you. You hope for the health and wealth of your young ones. You hope that your family will find peace and love and fun. You hope that all the finances you have acquired will last you throughout your life. You hope that you don’t lock your keys in your car. You hope that your confidant stays true. You hope that the love you put forth in the world will be reciprocated. You hope that your new found sobriety will bring you closer to your family. You hope people will treat you right. You hope for your safety on the road. You hope to get your work done before you die. You hope that hope is hope, but hope is expectation. Hope in one hand and defecate in the other and see which one produces. Who is hope? Where did hope come from. She lingered in Pandora’s box. A glittery, tingly, flighty, thing. Curious. Don’t open the box. But yet it was. And all the evils flew through the air. They jetted to Mars. They dug tunnels. Once the lid is open it can not be shut. Ever. I hoped for a family. I hoped for a new life. I jumped into hope and summer salted, a tumultuous life. I hope that the good people in the hospital did not pull the plug on my son. I hope he was not alive when I heard him crying in the morgue.
I have dallied and danced with hope. I have been the quintessential fool. I don’t hope. I know better. And yet I hope. Hope whispers in my ear. I hope I don’t fall off that mountain top. I hope I catch that wave. I hope for peace and tranquility. I still see the doctor talking to my daughter, her body riddled with cancer. Like the con man that he is, offering her hope. He won her hope to view her cancer. To get a look into her body

He bought the car his daughter, Hope had hoped for. A BMW.

Hope has wings. Hope flitters and tickles.

Hope – meet work.
Hope – meet patience.
Hope – meet perseverance.

Hope meet God.

Hope – close your eyes.

Hope – step into the abyss Miss.

And KNOW that you can fly.

Good morning – I hope you have a good day.

Soul Sale

My soul is not for sale.

Cells are whirling. Balls are flying, Trees are snatched by the roots and tossed. I feel the race,
once again.

The winds change
I live in the lull
I sit in silence

No dream today
not yet

mind and body
push and pull

white sand and oil
smiles abound

Who are these teeth?

That SMILE



Granny Grunt Goes Fishing

I graduated with a BFA in figure painting in 1996. When I left the university some teachers were complaining that the students wouldn’t even bother to draw. “Why should we? We can just trace.”

I left the convenience of a studio I had created. I walked away from the world I knew to go surfing and to live in CR. There has been one adventure/blustering sand filled, mud slung piece of hell after another. With rays from heaven piercing the clouds, like arrows, to my soul. And now here I am.

Fish Eye. Looking at the big picture.

I’m looking back. It’s hard to believe.

Continue reading Granny Grunt Goes Fishing

What’s next?

I don’t know.

And neither does anyone else.

I have no clear sense of direction. How could I? One does certain things in life, expecting things to occur. The results of your hard work and perseverance. MML That just doesn’t work for me. I truly have to live my life one day at a time.

A Hog will eat Itself

This Little Piggy went to a meeting…

I was so grateful to the woman that shared every word I spoke was in her heart. – If I help one person. Including me, I’m doing good.

On the Road Again

It’s 4 in the morning. Once again, I am hitting the road. A ride with a friend, to the airport, to Atlanta, switch luggage. Re-enter the country. On to Jax. Be met by a happy leprechaun who will speak with a brogue and inform us, in a light hearted yet serious manner, the antics, adventures and misadventures, of our island. Amelia.

This has been an extensive stay, here in Surfside, Costa Rica.

I never in my imagination could have come up with the life style that I now lead.

I was taught by the best.

  1. Don’t be in a hurry.
  2. Don’t follow the crowd.
  3. Your health is you wealth.
  4. Love yourself and others.
  5. God is good. God is everywhere.
  6. Pay your bills.
  7. Know you are powerless.
    a. if you don’t think that you are, speak to someone who has lost everything due to catastrophic weather
  8. Don’t worry be happy.
  9. Be clean.
  10. Eat right – sleep good

    Enjoy the trip. We have hurricanes brewing. And coffee. And books. And love.