Month: June 2017

Day 62: The Things I Didn’t Say

Day 62: The Things I Didn’t Say

The things I didn’t say are a lot.

 

Things like, “Thank you.”

for bearing my weight.
for keeping step with my gait
when the stride was distant and wide.

for wanting more,

for waiting longer,

thank you.

Things like, “I see.”

how lovely you are.
how fast time moves
when it’s standing still
and we’re still standing

out there

in the dark

and together.

I see.

Things like, “I hope.”

That there will be a time
when all the words that are hidden
behind teeth and tissue
flesh and fear
pause and speculation

will be said.

will be spoken.

will be sung.

that embrace will come again.

that a smile can be spread without sorrow too soon to follow.

I hope.

 

These things I didn’t say
and so many millions more
that books are written on my heart
and locked by lips’ sealed door.

In every second fleeting
the courage in me builds
to speak the truths held back by fear
but in the air fulfilled.

 

Thank You.

I See You.

I Hope.

Day62_SealedVolumes


 

 

Day 61: Concrete Bloom

Day 61: Concrete Bloom

I did not plant this here.
I did not set the seed.
Though concrete inhospitable,
it grows, as you can see.

A thing that wants to rise
sets root down with intent;
though challenge irrefutable,
it’s seedling seeks ascent.

It even had to wait
through winter’s cold reprieve.
An annual. One year, they said:
one life, and then bereaved.

 

But do you see the color there?
And the bud, beside it, growing?

 

Does the grey and stone confine you?
Or fill you with gritty knowing,

 

We do not pick our soil,
we do not choose our sun,
but force forth green and vibrant hue
and yield our bloom to none.

Day61_Concrete Bloom


Day 60: The Who That You Are

Day 60: The Who That You Are

You can only be what you’re not for so long

before the who that you are

sneaks up on you

creeps up on you

and demands to be known by you

once again

and for good.

 

it’s a funny thing,

 

when people say, “you’ve changed.”

 

changed?
or changed back?

changed?
or revealed?

is growth good if you grow in “right” directions for wrong reasons?
is growth bad
if you grow mad
at someone else’s moral treason?

 

who is the who that you are?
are you true to that you?
am I?

am I?

Day 60_Change


Day 59: An Overactive Imagination

Day 59: An Overactive Imagination

Admittedly, there have been a few times in my life wherein something I watched was a catalyst for change in how I lived my life or thought about my own potential.

That is, after all, what makes storytelling so powerful, isn’t it?
How it motivates change?

For example:

After seeing Star Wars (in the theater, yes, I’m that old), I was quite certain that if I tried hard enough, I could use the force and move stuff. I think my caregivers were concerned by the length of time I spent starting at tables.

The Little Mermaid convinced me to tie my feet together while swimming so I could “mer-swim” more authentically. Yep. Nearly drowned.

When I saw Braveheart, I converted to Catholicism ‘cause I totally wanted to play bagpipes in the highlands, get secretly married in rebellion of English authority, and paint my face blue. (No kidding, I started embroidering handkerchiefs for my betrothed even though I wasn’t betrothed.)

It was an episode of BayWatch that inspired me to buy my first motorcycle (embarrassing, but true.)

It’s possible the Matrix inspired me to buy my second.

Well….

 

I just saw Wonder Woman.

I’m only saying, IF I happen to show up somewhere donning a leather girdle, quiver, shield, and forearm cuffs (with thumbies), please don’t judge. I’m working something out…

It’ll be over soon.

Day59_OveractiveImagination

 

#DisplacedAmazon
#ThemysciraOrBust


Day 58: Tent Blogging

Day 58: Tent Blogging

In the spirit of not Waiting for Ice Cream,
I’ve decided to camp. Today.

are you with me?

 

On your mark…

Day58_On Your Mark...

Get set…

Day58_Get Set...

Go!

Day58_Go!

 

I’ve built the fire:

Day58_Fire

can you hear it?

got a little easy reading…

Day58_Good Read

and before we zip up and hunker down for the night,

a lullaby,

or two…

 

It’s a new moon.
O, how the stars do shine, tonight…

Day58_Starry Night

goodnight.  good. night.

 


 

Lullaby One: This is a tune I first heard in the middle of a thunderstorm. There was a group of us stranded in a little school house, and fiddler Antti Järvelä played this to pass the time. It’s called “Ola A Anna.”

Lullaby Two: This is a minuet composed by Rasmus Storms and taught to me by Harald Hauggard.

Day 57: Waiting for Ice Cream

Day 57: Waiting for Ice Cream


I will no longer wait for a certain love.

I will no longer wait to be better understood.

I will no longer wait for someone else’s
assistance,
attendance,
or enthusiasm.

I will not wait for a thumb’s up or pat on the back.

I will not wait for a “you should” or a “go for it.”

 

All of those things would be nice to have,
but I’ll no longer hold
future memory or present opportunity
in bated breath and pause.

 

I’ve been too long

like a little kid

staring at the sidewalk

waiting for melting ice cream

to jump back

into the cone.

I am grown now.
I’m buying a new cone.

Triple scoop.

 

Day57_GotMyIceCream

I think I’ll get one for each my kids, too.


Day 56: Future Memories

Day 56: Future Memories

I miss things that haven’t happened.

 

o, how much space is filled with future memories
and the want of somedays of normal things…

 

camping trips and menu plans,
laundromats and walks,
farmers markets,
magazines,
watching too much something.

thunderstorms.

getting in the car and going,
bad jokes, good coffee,
live music,
dead art,
singing together in crooked chord.

 

it’s not doing the things

but the gladness I’d feel in them

to have you beside me

whilst I do.

 

Day56_Future Memory


Day 55: Life Lessons Via Culinary Flop

Day 55: Life Lessons Via Culinary Flop

I used to teach a fine art program for kids wherein the main instructor was adamant that a child NEVER throw their half-finished project or drawing away because it “wasn’t right.” He argued that until you see it through to the end, you won’t know what it could have been or how you could have improved upon it.

I exercised this principle when getting off to a very rocky start in a recent sourdough-venture.

First, I over proved the bejeezus out of a stiff starter. The thing smelled like ripe nail polish and felt like wet leather. I’m pretty sure there was no hope. I would have thrown it out.

BUT, I fed it, reconstituted it to sour (rather than rank) and let it chill.

I knew bread would elicit too strong a sour taste with how long the starter had developed, but pancakes! Now pancakes could do… syrup DOES cover a multitude of sins.

Having no clue how to make sourdough pancakes, I did what every good and stubborn baker does:
I googled,
I scoffed,
and I made it up as I went
.

so…


Sourdough Pancakes

Ingredients:

Day55_a_Ingredients

  • ¾ cup (150g) stiff sourdough starter, at room temperature
  • 1 egg
  • 1 ½ Tablespoon sugar
  • 1 cup buttermilk
  • 2 Tablespoons canola oil
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • ½ cup all-purpose unbleached flour (or whole wheat flour for a nuttier taste)
  • ¾ teaspoon salt

Throw the starter, egg, sugar, buttermilk, oil and soda in a bowl and let it soak at least 15-20 minutes to loosen up the starter.

Day55_c_EyeBallStew

It will look gross.

It will feel even grosser. Mmmmm, eyeball stew….

 

After soaking, mix this on med-high for 3 minutes with a whisk attachment. This should break up the starter. Here is the SECOND place I would have thrown the thing out. No matter the whip, the batter looked like this:

Day55_d_ThatsNotMixed

well, that’s nothing I’ve seen before….

 

BUT WAIT, stay the course. It gets good!

Add the ½ cup of flour and ¾ teaspoon salt, still whisking, but only until the flour is incorporated, then let it sit for 10 minutes.

While that’s resting, we start setting the table but decide that maple syrup is not going to be the best pairing with sourdough, so we invent this:


Honey & Agave Banana Syrup

Ingredients:

Day55_e_SyrupIngredients

  • 4 Tablespoons butter
  • ¼ cup honey
  • 1/3 cup agave syrup
  • ½ sliced or mashed banana
  • 1 Tablespoon brown sugar
  • ¼ cup dried tart cherries (not pictured)
  • 1/3 cup chopped pecans (not pictured)
  • dried rosemary. yes. rosemary. for sprinkling on top. trust me. (not pictured)

 

Throw the butter, honey, agave, banana, and brown sugar in a small sauce pan.

Day55_f_Boil

Bring it to a steaming low boil over medium heat and whisk it until the bananas have broken and blended into the magma.

Day55_g_Whisk

Pour all but a Tablespoon or so of the syrup into a serving vessel. In the remaining Tablespoon (still in the saucepan) add the dried cherries and chopped pecans.

Day55_h_Cherries&Pecans

Stir until they’re coated, soft and warm.


Now, back to the cakes…

(I like an electric griddle for cakes. It keeps a steady temperature and you don’t need to mess with butters and oils to bake on.)

Pour ¼ cup of the batter out and cook them at 350° for about 4 minutes until they bubble on the surface, like this:

Day55_i_Griddle

flip them and cook for an additional 2 minutes or so, and flop them on a serving tray.

Now, remember when I said I almost threw this away TWICE during the conjuring process???

 

 

I give you the best tasting mistake I’ve ever digested:

Day55_j_SourdoughPancakeStack

stack the cakes
drizzle with syrup
dollop with cherries and nuts
sprinkle with ROSEMARY, it makes the whole thing come alive


How many masterpieces have we scrapped mid-stroke?

How much of us is hidden for what we’ve done or fear we will do, wrong?

How might any mislaid plan be redirected and deliver us to new and better places?

How will we know till we see it through?

Day 53: There is No Part of Me

Day 53: There is No Part of Me


You cannot have my joy
without allowing for the sorrow.
Do not play with me today
if you’ll not work with me, tomorrow.

You do not get the lover
without caring for the child.
I will not show my tame
if you cannot witness wild.

 

There is no ease without the nerve.

There is no straight without the swerve.

 

There is no part of me

that can be taken

apart from all the rest.

There is no part of me

that is not needed

or in this body, blessed.

There is no part of me.

 

 

If you should choose to love me,
love every crooked side;
the heart in all its colors
is ferocious and sublime.

I am a tyrant and a servant,
a sinner and a saint.
I am cracked but fused together
an explosion in restraint.

It’s all or nothing, love.
I am not ala carte.
You can’t pick out the mushrooms
and keep
my quartered heart.

 

Day53_There is No Part of Me