I am in no hurry;
if I do not finish,
I leave the work for
another day. If I have
no more days, work of
value will pass to
another. If not, it
stops with me.

Nothing is permanent,
nor should it be.

There once was a bear named Bella. She lived in the woods of the National Forest and she was very content except for one thing, she wanted to learn to dance.

Bella lived near a large campground. She watched large groups of people come and go all the time but one group came every year and this group intrigued Bella. The people there sang and danced all weekend. They sang to the trees and they sang to the sky. They sang to the animals of the woods. They sang and drummed at night to the stars and they sang to each other and they danced…

Bella loved to watch the dancing and she loved to watch the groups of women who danced wearing beautiful colours and sparkly gold discs and she wanted to be like them. The other bears near her thought she was nuts. They caught her deep in…

Still haunted by the memories; sleepless nights filled with reveries…
The dust gets blown away off a shelf in disarray,
as I flip through tearstained pages; and time-filled empty spaces
raising thoughts of you and me from my mental diary…

Tracing back to all those incomplete moments,
Along the track – shattered dreams and spewed contents,
Those moments of passion – still unfulfilled,
Stewing frustration within the walls we built…

Doors that we did open – deep inside our head
All those words spoken, yet, so much left unsaid…
To passion we had awoken – in love – heels over head!
Yet, suffering heartbroken as we lay beside in bed…

We stood beside one another; but not with each other
With kisses never tasted, and all that time wasted
We fought, we argued – we hurt each other so much
In anger instead we brewed – to avoid each other’s…

Seeing that which is right in front of our eyes—that which is clearly visible to the naked eye of each and every one of us—is, for whatever reason[s], not that fashionable in academia.  But that’s no reason not to try to make seeing the visible the new black!

Du Bois discerned double consciousness, a universal of conscious experience, in black experience.

Let’s see what we can discern in a leisurely walk across farmers market (do I miss meandering on India Street in Little Italy or what 😦  Noticing a placard apple / $1 on a brilliant red pyramid of apples, I inquired the price of 2 apples and found that it’s 2 dollars.

Can’t you find anything more boring, you complain.

Bed-time stories, more often than not, tend towards boredom and yet stay with us: all the way from the noisy childhood to the second childhood of…

Is there a central pool of creativity
that we can tap into; a pool of art,
music, literature, science, sources of
all aspects of creativity waiting for
us to manifest at this level?

It is our heritage to create. I expect
people who are “not creative” have not
explored this aspect of themselves…
perhaps afraid to do so, “Not good enough,”
instilled in them.

There is great joy in creating. It
is the act itself that rewards, not
the end product, therefore making
all creative actions, “good enough.”