You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
Coming across a handwritten note from a friend who’s a wonderful artist, I once again thought how amazing the handwriting is. Not just his, but other’s I’ve known.
Sometimes I’ve suspected they’re taught a special draftsmanship script, but now I’m seeing they differ.
Still, they are amazing.
Ending with “In peace and friendship …”
I’m talking about the poetry, fiction, even letters and blogging. My “personal” stuff, much more than anything I usually did at the office.
My first published novel ends as the protagonist joins with five hippie siblings who run a restaurant they’ve just inherited.
My novel What’s Left returns to the scene, to find the family’s prospered under the alternative approach.
Do you know any “retired hippies” who did quite well professionally? Tell us about one.
~*~
colleagues noting insect noses
Some of my Kinisi postings feel to me like mathematical equations, with words instead of symbols.
Not that I could say what they “mean.”
Fits a lot of lit or math, for that matter. A poem or an equation simply works – or doesn’t – while dwelling within its own beauty. Both are flights of imagination plus a little doodling. Some of these could even be prompts for a longer work or serve as a title.
What ways does your mind wander … playfully?
guys generally do the old zip in, zip out, knowing what we want before setting forth, grab only that, where most women look and look and look maybe even find a great bargain so the rare day I actually enjoyed being waited on, asking questions, getting directions from clerks who sensed they weren’t even going to get any income from me but what the heck, gave them something to do and someday I might even be back even though I didn’t find that much of what I was looking for who knows . authentic India incense (sweeter, more potent than the others), so it’s grins
Yes, I lean toward American contemporary.
Jnana's Red Barn 