Every year seems to pass so quickly. I think I’m not so very old and then poof—its happy birthday time all over again.
I have committed to writing 50 books before I pass into forever, but maybe it will actually be 106… All of my stripes are still in place and quite clearly I am in possession of a very fine pink tongue.
To all my loved ones, thanks for the many great years and for the ones yet to come! Happy Birthday to ME Ow!!!
I made a little visit to Steph`s blog. Here’s what it looked like. Hope you enjoy
Steve let me write on his blog!!! Yes, hard to believe. You can hop on over and take a look at Steve’s Imagineering It was fun to write. Hope you enjoy.
Most of you already know that I am fairly new to blogging. Someone said I should use the medium to practice writing. I availed myself of the opportunity to present my photography, drawings, and minor musings and I scratched my itch, creating a rather egocentric look at the world of blogging while I made an attempt to understand the difference between widgets and gizmos.
A good old-fashioned scratch.
Maturing only slightly as a blogger, I have enjoyed guest posting on the sites of a few friends patient enough to host me.
Today I examined my perspectives and realized, that –while I was communicating from my innermost heart–I was partially missing the picture.
Now, there is nothing wrong with looking inward. However there is a vast world if one adjusts the lens.
With your indulgence, I would like to do something different on future Saturdays. I would like to reach out and give back a little of the camaraderie I have felt by opening Saturday to a different perspective — other posts, guest posts, interviews, outside ideas and possibly book reviews.
Next Saturday I will be very proud to be hosting a conversation with a lady who has amazing talent both at blogging and writing fiction. I hope you all will be looking forward to this event as much as I am.
How very amazing it is to see colors! I supposed that in subtle shades of grey this view would still be wondrous, yet the ability to discern the myriad of hues makes it breath taking.
I sit here and think that its just an ordinary sunset. So many are colorful. I wonder if I should lose the sense of awe I feel looking up at the sky at the end of this day.
Although I am exposed to violence in my everyday life through various media, I find that I still feel sadness when a child is injured, or an innocent hurt. I even shed a tear at the murder of someone that I never had the grace to know in this life —theirs cut short by some savage act of one of our species. The prevailing belief is that we become desensitized by exposure— that we no longer view atrocities with the same magnitude of emotional distress.
I guess not everyone is the same. I have no intention of losing this part of myself—to move so far away from who I am that I can no longer empathize. I will always appreciate a sunset in all of its glorious spectacle and cry tears at the world’s injustices.
I find no shame in who I am or the awe I feel looking up at the sky.
Sometimes when things seem unclear, paths uncertain, even what appears to be clearly marked fades in the distance. I feel this way about the future sometimes, but I always try to remember that there is beauty everywhere. Uncertainty, like mist, need not dampen the spirits.
Fog is always temporary, usually lifting to reveal sunshine.