The Publisher

Sir BUDDY:  My sidekick and assistant  I wrote this a number of years ago. Thankfully, I can capture these thoughts and moods as they are dispersed into the universe, hoping optimistically, it can help others. My one daughter told me once:  some of her friends, read my blog for shits & giggles when they're drunk. I really haven't imparted that much advice over the years, if anything, sharing that as you enter your 50s, you are charting a new course in life.  No differently than the cliff to leap beyond becomes a metaphor for being at the tip toe point  before you jump :: into a relationship, a new job, a difficult decision, financial security. I haven't written on this blog for quite some time:  I've been dabbling (cheating on this blog) with creating my own domain website - more than once with different providers (I will write about later), sidestepping to Wordpress (which turned out to be less blogger friendly than anticipated, created a great, small

A time of fresh, new beginnings Most people would say that they think the year begins January 1st ... then there would be other theories on when was the beginning of time?  I'm reading around on faith, inspiration and wonderful things to know or to learn more about ::.... the constant read-seeker of truth, wisdom, important things & knowledge aligned with my head, when art, photography and aesthetic eye candy.  My sister, Diana, was here visiting a few weeks ago, and she had made a comment to me:  "You are good with the eye, Jeannette."  Being online and blogging, interacting with people regardless of anything other than what they click on their keyboard.   Fine Arts Awards   WINNER :  2016  Ella Maple Rynehart [FacebookURL] I could say it is an eye for talented, classy, smart  people instead.  One without the other would be like a hurricane without wild winds and ferocious rains.  [ REF:  2 the nonstop Hurrican Irma, Jose, now Marie.  My dad must be

Blow your horn. If nobody hears it.  No harm no foul. If somebody hears it and likes the beat of the drum. I figure nobody reads much unless renowned.  Then the thump of nations echo through all sounds.  So why not be engaged in laughter? From a giggle to a snort.  A way to evade the real world full of evil and dismay. If one can poke fun at oneself regardless of one's name. That is the gift of optimism. For the greater good. Join in music, hum along with heart. Who cares if anyone listens. You are becoming one with your heart that echoes within your soul. Do what YOU love. Regardless of acclaim. You do it because YOU love it. It doesn't need any fame. The glue that sticks us all together is filled with optimism and hope. Drowning out the empty noise  of anything of fame or violence or corruption. If we heed only the automatic reaction to the reflection of others grief. We are desperately trying to get relief from sorrow, heartache, despo

“Poetry operates by hints and dark suggestions. It is full of secrets and hidden formulae, like a witch’s brew.”   ~Anthony Hecht Academy of American Poets Chancellor (1971-1997) SOURCE :  https://www.poets.org Spookiness in poetry ..... Robert Frost Ghost House I Dwell in a lonely house I know   That vanished many a summer ago,  And left no trace but the cellar walls,  And a cellar in which the daylight falls,  And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow.  O'er ruined fences the grape-vines shield  The woods come back to the mowing field;  The orchard tree has grown one copse  Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;  The footpath down to the well is healed.  I dwell with a strangely aching heart  In that vanished abode there far apart  On that disused and forgotten road  That has no dust-bath now for the toad.  Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;  The whippoorwill is coming to shout  And hush and cluck