Creative Thinking - and a bit of frustration that comes with it

I have this constant struggle with creativity which mostly centers around finding ways to parlay my own creativity into money - be it income that runs the entire spectrum accomplishing making enough so that it does any of the following things:

    1) Makes me rich

    2) Makes me borderline rich

    3) Allows me to go into my day job on the worst of days & say the line from the Johnny Paycheck song of the same name; Take this job and shove it and support myself solely off of my creative work(s) and fucking never look back. As I type this, perhaps this should be numero uno.

    4) Supplement my day gig to the point of not having to put in the on the clock hours to the extent that I currently do.

I've been frustrated by this for most of my life, but even so, I think it's not a bad thing to walk around on this earthly journey as a creative type - however that creativity comes out, which can be in many ways. Creativity is a wonderful thing and I have always favored that over a competitive mindset. Nothing against a little friendly competition, but give me the creative vibe every time.

Creativity is ideas and ideas are thoughts with a wonderful energy in and of themselves. Thoughts are things oftentimes, seeds if you will. You've got to plant them for them to blossom into real, tangible things that will do any good in this life - and they'll do no one any good if they just lay dormant. Even the best ideas are useless when they're uncultivated. They need to be brought to life.

I had a wonderful drafting teacher my freshman year of high school, Mr. Pease. All these years later (never mind just how many years later!) I still remember him telling our class that every single thing that gets made has to be drawn first - before it can be made. He told us to think about that and wrap our minds around that fact - everything, take for example a simple ball point pen. A thin reservoir of ink that at one end has a tiny ball that rolls over a piece of paper leaving ink onto a page. Someone has to draw it and present a visual of it so that the manufacturing can be figured out. How awesome is that? Plenty.

But what is perhaps even more awesome, is that in order for something to be drawn it first has to be seen. Someone has to have a vision of whatever it is they want to make - it's gotta be seen in someone's mind. They'd need to have the vision of a tiny metal ball being held in place enough to stop the ink from running out of control but still allowing for the ball to roll when moved over the page. Sure this is something that we use every day that we take for granted, but how incredible is that? If someone hadn't had that vision, we'd all be still using bird feathers dipped in ink.

Just imagine someone needing your signature on a document - pick one. "Just need your signature right here on the line - here's a feather & some ink...." Oh damn, that guy walked off w/my feather!"

Moving away from the ink pen, thoughts are things. They have an energy to become things - whatever those things may be. Thoughts are ideas and the wonderful thing about ideas is that they breed more ideas - even a bad idea can make way for a good one, a better one - often even a great one. Personally, I love the exchange of ideas, whether they're my own or someone else's. It's all part of the creative process.

These are my coffee thoughts on this beautiful morning. Now that I'm finished with the coffee part of the day, having spent the morning reading from Adam Moss' wonderful book, The Work of Art and seeing a word I've never seen - Bildungsroman, which was a total WTF moment. When I read from a book I own, I circle words I'm not familiar with. This one completely dumbfounded me - I couldn't really figure it out from the context it was used in. Of course I had to look it up. I may very well go the remainder of my life never seeing that word on a printed page again - and I certainly can't see myself using it. If you're curious, look it up, I'm moving on.

So now it's onward on this second day off. I've got seeds to plant, creatively speaking. Peace, good people.

CRO

Overzealous Gratitude - Seriously??

 Today I am grateful. Grateful for many things, many of which I take for granted. Hell, on any given day I might take all of 'em for granted. But not on this day. Today I will put forth by best effort to be mindful of things normally taken for granted on a regular basis - and not just by me, but by everyone. Everyone that is, but those who may not have such things in their daily life - and there are indeed people out there in this world who do not know some of these things, perhaps all of them.

I had a good night's sleep on 400 (estimated) thread count bed sheets on my bed which is comfortable & layered with an adequate & comfortable offering of blankets for warmth. I can add more to said layers if I deem necessary. This time of the year, I do not. You've undoubtedly heard the saying cooler than the other side of the pillow. Highly desirable many times during the course of a good night's sleep, I can find this several times over every single night - I don't even think about it, until a day like today comes along.

I woke up in a comfortable bed that is my own, rather than that of a hospital where I could be waiting for a doctor or a nurse to come in with various & sundry procedures, tests, results or questions. With a roof over my head and to the sounds of birds chirping and a neighbor taking their dog outside - instead of somewhere far away in a war zone where any and all of what I'm thankful for could easily be destroyed our outright taken away from me in some unpleasant manner. So there's that to be thankful for.

Then there's my cat, who is always glad to see me emerge from my sleep. Charming as her enthusiastic purrs may be, I can see through it enough to realize that what she's really happy about is being fed - at least first off. She may - or being a cat, may not seek various amounts of favorable attention after her first order of business - and she usually does. Pets are a joy in this life, and while I spent years being a dog person and I miss having a good dog these days, I'm thankful for the peace & quiet version of pet ownership my cat provides. The things she does that annoy me are much less abrupt and they don't piss off my neighbors. Usually I interpret her running up & purring at my feet to mean "Oh my GAWD, I am SO happy to see you!!", but I need to face the reality that it may actually mean "Oh my GAWD - where the F'K is my food???" - at least some of the time. Since we're talking cats, I'd rather not guess how that percentage pendulum swings in my favor - I'll gratefully assume it's more than enough.

Coffee - which never tastes better to me than it does on a day off. I'm not sure it's optional on the days I work, nor how enjoyable it is on those days as much as it just feels like a necessity. Work or not, I still struggle with drinking it black - and there are still days that I just can't do it. I'll take either one of those days, because there are people in this world who don't even have clean water to drink - at least not enough of it.

I heard a segment on the radio recently where people in a war torn area of the world (No, I'm not saying specifically, lest I piss off someone on either side of this nightmare) were talking about not having enough food and water and how they were having to make bread out of grains and other things normally used to feed chickens and other animals. They were saying how the bread was awful, had very little nutritional value and smelled like a chicken coup. Ever been in a chicken coup? They smell God awful. I'm grateful that even my worst culinary attempts don't smell like that.

Then it's off for the shower - I have clean, running water - about as hot as I care to run it in the shower. I have quality soap w/which to scrub the daily build up of excess dirt & oil from my body. And I would be grateful to have the money I've saved not having to buy shampoo for years now - never mind how many. I have soft, thirsty towels to dry my clean, naked & wet body with. Nice. I didn't have to forego showering altogether for the umpteenth consecutive day because there isn't any water, or the water that I bathe with is needed by the rest of the community for drinking. I can use as much as I want of it on that daily build up of excess dirt &...

Suffice it to say that I, like many people, take a lot of things for granted most days. Maybe that's in favor of wanting bigger & better things in our lives, along with our simply being accustomed to things that many people in this world don't have the luxury of. A wise person once said to me that we never think we have much until we lose it....or have to move. Then we have a lot. 

So maybe we don't have to think of every little thing we have in our lives & acknowledge them in being grateful for them, but I'm of the opinion that we oftentimes have so much more to be grateful for than we tend to think we do. Time to feel blessed, time to get dressed. Peace, good people!

CRO

I'm Getting Old...Here Are Some Clues/Signs

 It's been quite awhile since I've written & posted here. A hot minute, as the younger generations might say. On this Monday, my second day off, I'm sitting at my computer going through some graphic design tutorials, writing off & on in a journal & watching a tiny spider crawling on the wall behind my monitor. For the time being, I'll leave the tiny creature alone - having read that it's bad luck to kill a spider. I suppose you could say that I, at least rather half-assedly, believe in the saying If you want to live and thrive, then let the spider run alive.

Much as I can recall, I read the spider thing in a book on luck that I bought in a charming, small town bookstore. There are two ways that I make exceptions when it comes to killing spiders - the first one is born from leaving my car sunroof in the vented position on a Summer's evening only to be driving down the road hours later & seeing a spider descend from the roof of my car right in front of my face. I'm not gonna lie, that freaks me the f'k out - & during such moments, the spider's actual size is exaggerated a minimum of ten times & its fate is sealed - unless I fail. Never mind all that - I ain't here to write about spiders.

I'm sitting here listening to Radiohead, wondering about the bulk of my music library - which I'm also not here to write about, though I could easily ramble on about that. 

I'm here to write about the clues & telltale signs of getting old - or as I like to say, older. Never mind the exact amount of mile markers here, if you know me, then you know how many. If you don't know me, feel free to speculate.

Incidentally, said spider that was crawling on my wall & made its way onto my monitor platform & then my desktop, is now under a small Ziplock food storage container awaiting transport to an outdoor location. I have no affiliation with Ziplock & I have not received any compensation for mentioning their products.

One of the behaviors I've noticed in myself that makes me feel old...er, is that I've come to enjoy listening to NPR when I drive to & from work. There are various segments I enjoy, I get a minimal dose of news - which these days is mostly troubling & I learn a bit. Sometimes a segment will be so captivating to my ears that I'll sit in the car & listening to the remainder of it at my destination. I'll note things to look further into once I'm home & recently one of the segments I really dug was one with a local poet, George Bilgere.

Initially, I would've thought I wouldn't be interested in listening to anyone talk about poetry, but as Bilgere spoke about & read some of his work, I became very interested. I ended up catching the whole segment on my way home from work, which was a nice surprise. My NPR time is never planned out - if I'm driving, I turn it on & if I find it interesting I leave it on, if it bores me I turn it off. Sometimes I miss the rest of segments that I like because I've arrived at my destination & there isn't time to sit & listen. I'm glad I caught all of the George Bilgere segment & I was inspired to pick up 2 of his works to read on my Kindle.

So the more I get into this type of poetry, the more I will explore trying to write some of my own. One of my items on my list of things that I want, is to improve my writing & find an outlet to get either or both of the following: 1) Published 2) Paid

These days there are lots of ways to get published - some opt for self publishing, but for me at least, being/getting published would mean some publication being interested enough in something I've written that they want to include it in their publication. As for the being paid part, well not many people are likely to see dollar signs being a poet. Songwriters, particularly great ones, are poets - at least in my view. Anyway, while I'd love for some of my poetry to be considered good enough to be published - and dare I say, paid for....I suppose I'd be happy with the former & not hold out much hope for the latter when it comes to poetry. 

There you have it folks, that's a wrap for me on this Monday afternoon. I've got a lot that needs done around here & it's time to get moving. Stay tuned...

CRO

Memories...

In a couple of days, it'll be two years since a dear friend left this earthly life for the other side. 2021 was a year that was bookended by the loss of two dear friends - both of which were friendships that went on for more years than I want to count. One for half of my life, one for most of my life. 2021 was the year after the pandemic - and the pandemic was the year everyone said they would give back if only they could. As much as the pandemic and all it created to alter our lives sucked,  I'd gladly take 2020 over 2021. So if I could give back a year, it would be '21.

2021 is the year that started with the passing of my dear friend Tom. We met quite a few years ago when both of us were tending bar at a dinner theater. Pretty much an instant brotherly connection on account of music - and humor. Tom would unknowingly become the older brother I never had. Tom was an encourager. Had it not been for him, I may not have pushed myself to give college a try. Had it not been for him, I may not have hung onto my desire to play music and I certainly wouldn't have been hipped to so much good music. And without Tom's friendship, my life would have had so much less laughter. And don't even get me started on the best advice, given calmly, knowingly & reasonably - advice that you couldn't help but listen to and take because of its delivery. Tom had a magical way of zeroing in on the important points in any given dilemma - often when I either didn't see it, or didn't want to see it.

Like any friendship - particularly one that exists for years with no end in sight, there were ups and downs, disagreements, laughter and tears. Loads of meaningful conversations - more of which made their mark than I could even think of. The memories of those come up, sometimes out of nowhere and other times they hit me because something makes me think of him in the current state of my day and whatever may be going on. Humor brings up a lot of my memories of Tom. I hope that never changes - and it was a massive component in our friendship. Like I said, humor and music. Everything is better with those two elements. Everything would be so much worse without either one of them.

Last week it was the humor that had me feeling like Tom was still here and taking part in what I thought was a very amusing segment on NPR. Without the boring details, I'll just say that the reporter's voice sounded hilarious and it didn't seem to go with the subject matter - crab fishing in Alaska and how it has been adversely affected by climate change. For starters, it reminded me of a pre-concert dinner. Our waiter had a similar voice. You had to be there, but some very amusing lines were spoken that night. Lots of yucks.

So last week on my way home from work, I'm listening to this segment & try as I may, I cannot stop being amused at this reporter's voice - and it was like I could feel the conversation and laughter that would take place were I riding in the car with Tom and hearing this. I could sense the sophomoric lines that we'd trade off every time one of us thought of something that hypothetically could be said - but wasn't. There would come a point where we'd have thought, 'Ok, enough - we've about covered all the ground we can here...' but then one of us would think of something else that we'd have to throw out there because we'd be pretty sure that it would crack the other up - and it almost always would.

This was so intense that I'm attributing it to Tom being there in the only way he could now - in my memories, in my knowing him over years of friendship. It was easy to see how he would've laughed at something I said, or him saying something that would open the floodgates of my laughter. Sometimes I think of Tom and I wonder what he would think of things - musical things, funny things and certainly political things. But on this particular day in my car, it really felt like I didn't have to wonder what he'd think, I swear I could feel it, sense it like he was actually in the car with me and we were on our way to or from a concert - one that he'd either convinced me to go to (Tom always knew when cool shows were coming up), or one that I'd convinced him to go to. Those invites, regardless of which side they would come from, were rarely declined. So yeah, humor and music brought us together - loads of memories that are filled with both. More to come on all that.

At the end of 2021, my dear old friend Paul left us. In under 30 days, we went from news that got worse by the day, to Paul being gone. I've known Paul for most of my life, having met him back in junior high - which I guess they call middle school now. Pffft...middle finger to that nonsense, it was f'n junior high then, it's junior high now as far as I'm concerned.

Humor - that was the big connection with Paul. Humor and the fact that we had similar events in our childhood that bonded us - but we didn't give much thought to that until we were both grown ass men who grew up enough to notice some of what bonded us. There would be a lot of that as the years went on. There were times when we wouldn't see each other, wouldn't have any contact at all for so many life events, but we were connected via mutual friendships - Paul, his brothers Pat and Matt, Jeff, Tony and myself. And then we'd reconnect in person and that friendship was still there, none the weaker for not seeing each other for God knows how long, but stronger for having existed for years. Do I still belong here in this meadow of friendship? Belong? We all made this meadow, hell yes, I belong here - and I need to never forget that. 

Paul was better at sports than I was. More than being due to natural athletics, Paul was better because he f'n just refused to give up - it just wasn't in his nature, ever. I may have learned most of the importance of cherishing long term friendships from Paul - because he kept friendships and nurtured them from his school days right into grown ass man adulthood and everything, good/bad/indifferent that came his way on the road of life. Every morning I drink my coffee out of a cup that Paul gave me some years ago. In a couple of days, we'll be at the second anniversary of him leaving us. This morning when I made coffee, I thought 'Good morning, brother' and then I realized it's been two years. I wasn't sad - until I got to this paragraph. I don't want to be sad today - I don't think Paul or Tom would want me to be sad. I wonder if they miss me even half as much as I miss them. Being the over thinker that I am, I wonder if I was half as good a friend to them as they were to me. I wonder if they know how much I miss them. I wonder if they know how much of what they gave to me over years of friendship is still with me.

I'm not much for cemeteries - not in terms of visiting any departed loved one. I've tried, there's just too much negative about a goodbye with that kind of depth that exists in cemeteries that to me, are the worst of memories. I have too many other memories that represent the person so much better for me - and those memories live in my heart, my soul - which is where the relationship lived all along. Memories like the ones I've barely alluded to in the paragraphs above. Trust me, I've kept those and I revisit them often.

I'm going to conjure up a few of those memories today, on this colder Fall day. I've shed a tear or two for both of these dearly departed friends on this day off - I miss them both immensely and I'd give anything to have a conversation with both of them. I got nothin' - but to say that both of their memories are very much alive in me. Guess it'll have to do for now. Time to get out and see what I can photograph of Fall. Peace, good people - cherish long term friendships, cherish family and especially cherish the friendships that turn friends into family. Cherish memories of all of those.

CRO