red onion

Okay, okay, I haven't blogged for 4 whole days. Shhhh, inner parent, let me just write for gosh sakes. I've been sorting through a few things. Journaling. Journaling is the salt sifter, the sand filter. I'm a prospector panning for gold right now. It is the gold of thoughts that I am releasing as though I just blew the dam with dynamite, and words like rusing water came flowing out. But now I write for you, imaginary reader, so I censor myself and filter, once again.

I will tell you that I am struggling like the rest of you, if you halfway feel some of your emotions, for a sense of direction and how and where best to put my energies. I strive on to create a kind of quality of life that I long for. Am I there whereever there is? Not yet. I may not even know it when I get there, or, I may already be there.

That sacred union between pen and paper, that is even mightier than the sword, is taking root for me now. I am metaphor punch drunk, flowing along in a sea of iced green tea and granola. I have concerns. Do I move into the country, commute, and grow a garden. How quickly would I be sick of a long commute?

Certainly there is a chance of living closer to the city, where I work presently. The cities will become more difficult as the economy continues to deteriorate, and, barring some miracle...My friend said today, "There are already hungry and starving people in the cities."

Starving people in the cities? You betcha. Nobody campaigning on a promise to feed the people, to my knowledge.

It just seems like a good idea to learn how to grow things right now. There is a miniature drought on in New Orleans. If we don't get good rain this summer, we'll cook.

I want someone to talk plain and simple who's running. I like some of the Democratic candidates. I want to study Dean's record, but I don't like his idea to keep a bloated military. Kucinich is very direct in speech, and he stood up to the power company in Ohio and paid a political price. I like his seemingly ceaseless energy and willingness to tackle the roots of problems. "Poverty is a weapon of mass destruction," he recently said in Iowa.

The New York Times had scary stuff today, what with the youthful, far right, small army of neocons with their white t's with W's face on it, on the cover of the magazine that comes with the Sunday paper. I have to repeat to myself like a mantra right now, energetic progress in the good; focus, focus. So it goes.