Why did you start blogging?
I get asked this question often and I am always quick to answer because I know exactly why I started blogging. I was weary of the mean people in society being able to abuse the rest of us with their tirades and their lies and never being able to tell my side of the story, or be heard. I was taught it wasn’t polite to lash out or to even defend oneself against the travesties of other vile human beings, so I stayed quiet. In other instances, my hands were tied and I wasn’t allowed to say anything because of professional reasons. I needed an outlet!
Then I had a dream on Sunday. Continue reading
REM lost their religion. William Shakespeare lost doubt. Edgar Allan Poe lost his mind. I’m over here wondering if I’ve lost my anonymity even though I’m not interested in figuring out where it went.
I think it was the day I decided to start a blog that I had to come to terms with my own anonymity. Many of you out there might also refer to this as privacy. I knew I would always be a lightening rod of controversy and wanted to explore provocative subjects, so losing my anonymity was something I had to think about.
It wasn’t long ago that I realized this new affliction had affected me in other ways that had nothing to do with blogging. Continue reading
Me at The Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, PA performing my 15 minutes of fame video.
There are days I will write to total silence. I read my own writing aloud on those days without distractions and without the feelings and emotions that a musical background tend to provoke. It’s only the words I’m interested in hearing. The cadence of how they sound and the beat and meaning they release to the reader.
Will the next person reading my words aloud understand exactly what I was trying to tell them? Continue reading
Posted in Artsy and Poetic
Tagged Adele, Alanis Morissette, Daily Post, Fiona Apple, Flogging Molly, Free Man in Paris, Imagine Dragons, It Comes Back To You, Joni Mitchell, Music, The Drovers, The Lumineers, writer's block, Writing
Bending my mind around the magnitude of talent and thought that went into some of the art I have experienced takes me to another world whenever I need a vacation from this reality.
Chest high and smooth as silk, these half barrels break far enough out that you can ride them all the way down the beach.
The sun breaks through the rain clouds and shines a constant beam on the lone old-timer in a full wetty braving the cold Atlantic this morning, as I quietly chew my burrito. Continue reading