Cloaked in a story
We read poetry and sometimes a great novel.
History and biographies pass along our paths.
Sometimes we meet a human that is a novel, a human story,
a biography,
and the person with a life that is a story.
Could it be that each one of us is indeed that great
novel?
We as individuals are cloaked in suspense and drama,
veiled in insecurities and peaceful oblivion.
We share what all great writers write about, we carry
our novels in our souls as we walk into
that great storeroom of good words. Words that are cloaked
in a story.
This is a nice thought.
We are,
cloaked in a story.
***
Open Heart?
One of the reasons that Morningstar was shut down was
the filthy living condition in the upper house.
It was not capable of handling 20 people let alone 90.
People tried to keep it clean but after a while it beats you over the head.
When my son was at the University of Kentucky he was
assigned living quarters at the twin 20-story towers on the campus in his
first year. Sometime during that first year we went by for a visit. I was
totally surprised by the shit and crap that was piled high in the rest
rooms at the end of those halls. I must assume that they had to use fire
hose to clean out those dorm restrooms on a weekly basis. May I guess or
assume that all first year dorms are the same.
People assume that living on a commune such as Tolstoy
or Morningstar was all play.
People worked hard to maintain a standard of living.
Poverty was the standard, but it requires a lot of work. Tolstoy was easy
on the chores, because when you accomplished something it stayed that way
for a time and results could be seen. At Morningstar the law kept you on
your toes and you could not keep up with the dishes or toilets.
So do not assume that drugs and sex were 90 percent of
our activities. We like to think that they were but that is not the case.
People stayed busy.
+
I like to think that Lou never wavered about open land
and his point of view. It may be that the law someway and somehow forced
him to change. I assume that he never wavered and I like it that way. Could
it be that the social pressure around him had asked him to discriminate
about his policy of open land? Choose who you want Lou to be here on this
land Lou. Please? Did someone make a wish and ask god to remove the people
of Morningstar to just a few? I do not know. I do know that our views narrow
as time passes. We become more selective about our friends and wish others
to quietly go away.
I do this here in Kentucky. I want to ignore the people
that hunt, get drunk and beat their wives. I want to hate them for their
ignorance. I want to hate them for abusing their children with incest.
But I believe that I should see them as another point of view, another
light with a beacon. How can I show them the world or are they just going
shoot first and ask questions later?
So how did Bin Laden narrow his view? When did he decide
to swat the fly, to shoo it away. Do I represent the evil that he hates?
Somehow I think so. He has drawn the line with blood and forced me to make
a decision.
On one side of that line (mine) the freedom to express
our religious freedom is to die. It is to be poisoned with white fear and
disruptive propaganda.
I do represent all that evil that has oppressed the poor
ladies at wal -smart and China?
Why?
***
At 6pm:
As I crossed the bridge in the
dark I saw lights off in the bottoms below.
A farmer is rolling the old
corn stocks into the earth in the darkness of early evening.
A light in the blackness.
At midnight:
Amber lights fade off into the
gray fog of autumn on these concrete walls.
I walk shrouded in fog along
the bridge above the dam.
The damp brisk cold is felt on my face.
Dampness is at the end of my nose, a sure sign of coming
winter.
Fog on the river.
At 6am:
Most mornings when you drive
into the sun it blinds you and is somewhat annoying but this morning was
different.
Because of the heavy fog on the river the road home was
layered in fog.
As I came around a corner I was looking strait at a oak
tree that had lost it's leaves.
What was remarkable was the sun which was poking through
the fog and through the tree.
The rays of the sun were deflected by the fog and as
those rays hit the tree those
rays were deflected again by
the wet limbs of the great oak.
The oak looked like a wonderful painting of fog, tree
and sun.
I wanted to snap the photo and I guess I did.
Fog creates some wonderful sights is this world of ours.
***
Fireworks, Love & Friendship
There is an emotion that sees stars and fireworks in
the night sky.
You are sitting with friends and good feelings pass over
your bodies.
This is a love that defines friendship and hope;
the feeling that displaces the hardship of normal stress
in ones environment.
Love is the star bangled banner that carries emotions
across the Internet.
Love is the emotion that opens your heart to a friend.
The ability to tell a friend you have never met that
they have a home in your heart.
This is not a proposal of any kind this is only an emotion
of thought that says that you have
a place when all else fails, a place that never worries
about rent, money or stress.
When all else fails the star bangled banner of love is
a place to be.
Fireworks, Love & Friendship
***
moving backwards
The world that we live in is a constant scapegoat to
all our problems.
It does not matter how well the world continues to move
forward in all areas of concern.
The world provides quick transportation of movement of
bodies and thought.
The world tries to maintain a comfortable living for
all human beings.
But because the world is so slow in its tasks it is going
to be the source of all of our troubles.
It is going to be blamed for all of its tasks that have
not pleased some of us.
+
There have been major flaws in the way the world views
other humans.
It has called all humans that do not believe in quick
civilization "savages" and has eliminated them.
That major flaw has created a world of blame.
I thought that we had learned our lessons about savages.
But we still send missionaries to other lands to persuade
them about their flaws.
+
We use all the tools available to do our tasks.
Some of us try to live a little slower; we try to move
our abilities closer to the cave man, moving slowly backward.
It is difficult to do both moving backwards and forwards
at the same time when
there is a constant reminder flying overhead.
moving forwards
***
Wide eyes
Palms forward and eyes wide open Natasha looks at the
world in awe.
I've seen the expression before, you remember "Betty
Boop" she too had her eyes wide open, her mouth a circle in awe.
As I was leaving home for work Laurel walked by and we
talked of Natasha, she gave me that expression to me.
"OH how wonderful" Laurel's eye wide with awe, palms
forward.
She too had seen Natasha as Natasha looked at the world
around her.
There is always something that can make your day nice.
As I drove away from the service station in the autumn
fog I came across three deer frozen in my lights.
They were alive and standing in someone's yard in town.
They were still in the fog. I drove by in wonder,
a nice start for a day in November and the crescent moon
is still in the night.
There are smells of skunk and mildew in the morning fog.
It seems to linger longer in this type of weather.
As I neared the dam a big buck and doe stood on the road.
They had other plans which I disturbed.
***
October, November & December
The harvest has been gathered and we are thankful for
being able to do just that.
We celebrate during the fall of the leaves and way into
the first snows
of winter. We dance around the May Poles, parade our
happiness, fly on broomsticks,
decorate trees and poor fruit from a shell. We fast and
feast, warm creamy
colors, spicy toppings, orange glazes, fresh bread, home
made pies are a
common sight. Aroma and trinkets.
We find away to look up and thank the unknown deity that
patrols our sky.
We share our gift and renew our vow in:
October, November & December
***
Value
People value everything that they have and are extremely
annoyed when someone defaces their precious object.
Why is that so?
Why is an object more valuable than a human being?
This does create a great amount ill feeling among human
beings.
We live in a society that values money more than life
itself and most people will agree with that and
will fight you tooth and nail about what they hold dear.
People say that I am wrong in believing that objects
hold no value.
Whatever?
Why is that so? That puts me a quandary.
Life is valuable and to some so are their possessions.
I may assume that ninety nine percent of all humans hold value in some
possession.
I try to think of nothing when others hold on to objects
but my ego says to then "that they should not hold on to objects" conflict
always comes forward in these situations. Conflict in its present form
is rather harsh.
I guess that is called an argument.
Time and grandchildren heal all wounds.
Time is precious and should be valued. Our moment in
time is now. Grievance or ill feeling should not be carried forward into
time but sometimes always do move forward in memory. Grievance or ill feelings
are carried on our backs like scars on our skin.
How quickly should we move on into the future where mankind
can live in peace and not carry our grievance or ill feelings forward?
For me this is simple. For others it is hard and not going to happen.
Whatever?
Why is that so? That puts me a quandary.
I hold no answer. I may assume that everyone else does.
***
Those &These
We would all just love to form our own personal group
of friends.
Choose who fulfills our needs and place them on our invited
list.
Of course we would have to completely ignore the idea
of equality between women and men, rich and poor,
smart and ignorant, thin or fat, meat lovers and meat
haters, no gods and lots a gods.
And of course everyone else that falls in-between those
lines like Doves and Hawks.
***
This morning is clear and bright.
There is a cloud cover toward the north and a clear sky
to the south.
The sun is coming between the two variations of the early
morning.
The sun is reflected in the morning water.
Turbines can be heard off in the distance.
Those sounds have traveled across the water from a great
distance.
It is nice and I feel good about myself.
My body is heavy but my health is good.
Complicated matters and simplicity adorn my environment.
Allison and Natasha have helped color our minds with
new emotions of love and understanding.
Natasha is wanting to stand at all times while she is
awake so grandpa's and grandma's arms become props for Natasha to stand
on laps and look out over her universe. Of course we will try to please
her.
We want her to see and absorb all there is to see.
You can almost see and feel the rush of our environment
travel into her eyes and ears like a whirlpool.
It is a rather splendid time to be around or this is
a splendid time to be here where I am at.. She also feels pain as the growth
of her jaw rubs against the inside of her gums as early teeth start to
form. We try to explain to her what is going on, it helps a little. She
is sleeping more as her body grows. She awakes with a smile, a small being
very happy to be alive. Alive and loved, that is nice. Laurel makes her
laugh with pure pleasure, which is very contagious and wonderful. Grandpa
is kind of a fuddy duddy, which is ok too.
***
If I sat on a mat in a ritual art form, clearing my mind
of unneeded clutter, placing my being onto another level of spiritual wealth
could it compare with the description above about being with Natasha?
My thought and body says it the same and different at
the same time. Being aware of the space we occupy places us well in the
space provided by life. Remember the Quote "Seeing is believing". We have
read a million words that describe the truth about our environment and
we as individuals add our own statements to the lengthening list of cliché's
that enlighten our lives.
***
We read poetry and sometimes a great novel. History and
biographies pass along our paths.
Sometimes we meet a human that is a novel, a human story,
a biography, and a person with a life that is a story.
Could it be that each one of us is indeed that great
novel?
We as individuals are cloaked in suspense and drama,
veiled in insecurities and peaceful oblivion.
We share what all great writers write about, we carry
our novels in our souls as
we walk into that great storeroom of good words.
This is a nice thought.
***
I watch water.
When it rains plants and trees absorb lots of water.
Where I work I make it my business to see what the water
and rain are doing in this area that I live in. This morning I saw water
moving rapidly in the local streams. I knew that it would move to the river
because all the trees in the area have lost their leaves. In the summer
when the trees are green and the flowers and grasses are growing they absorb
most of the rainfall in our local area. But in the fall when all the leaves
have fallen and the grasses are dormant water just sheds off them as if
they were in the desert. People in arid and desert climates should bury
their garbage locally and plant trees continually to create some kind of
soil. People west of the Mississippi and Israel have created a landscape
where deserts would have flourished had it not been for water and the planting
of windbreaks of trees and shrubs. When we plant gardens and trees we help
the environment that we live in.
***
That is why people are concerned about the rain forests
in South America.
If the trees are gone then the rain will wash the soil
into the river and cause flooding.
With the trees gone and the soil washed away all that
will remain is heavy rocks and sand.
That has happened in Africa.
With no fertile land there is no food for the masses.
***
Some of us try to avoid the runoff of topsoil. But it
is difficult task.
Soil does move rapidly downstream in this Ohio River.
Who sang, " It is hard being green?"
When it rains plants and trees absorb lots of water.
***
Points of view.
I have seen a different religious point of view from
just about every person that I have ever meet.
Just about every point of view speaks of peace and good
behavior toward their fellow man with a few exceptions.
How can I possibly tell each person that their view is
wrong when in their heart their view is correct?
If I listened to their view point, I or we would come
to an understanding that their view is correct
and realize that we were saying the same thing only using
different nouns and verbs to explain the same things.
If their view is correct and my point of view is correct
then that tells me that we are all right in our views about life and
that I have failed to understand their viewpoint in the
past.
So I must see each person as being alive with a viewpoint
that is correct and to the point.
If that is correct then I must see each of us as being
an image of god and understand their point of view as the same as mine.
This space that I occupy is very grand and I believe
that each one of us occupies the same grand place.
This implies that all matter as being in the image of
god.
"Matter: Something that occupies space and can be perceived
by one or more senses;
a physical body, a physical substance, or the universe
as a whole."
So must I worship the ground that each one of us occupies?
I guess if you wear standing in front of me I would have
too?
Whatever I like the idea that each one of us is correct
in our points of view.
Bush, branches and his cohorts seem to interrupt my logic.
War seems to interrupt my logic.
Some how the above letter does not make sense. When I
wrote it it made good sense in my mind.
Perhaps some day I will understand what I meant.
***
The ritual of life
Once we have seen what has happened life has been a continuous
prayer.
My outer garments have changed but not the prayer.
Rich or poor is completely indifferent in prayer.
Prayer is being one with whatever space that is there.
The ritual of life is a continuous prayer.
***
Oil lubricates the technology that we use.
If oil were as abundant as water then perhaps we would
fight about space.
Perhaps there is a planet composed entirely of oil.
Could we lubricate our technology with sunshine?
The ritual of life
***
Sphere of influence:
Sphere of influence:
Sphere of influence:
Sphere of influence:
There is a sphere of influence that surrounds us.
We are the ones that spread goodwill.
We are the ones that garland our bodies with flowers
and peace.
We are the ones that demand good behavior from our planet.
We are the ones that live in the garden.
We are the ones that listened to the words.
We are the ones that demand equality for all.
We are the one in the sphere of our influence;
we are the many in the sphere of influence.
Sphere of influence:
Sphere of influence:
Sphere of influence:
Sphere of influence:
***
October, November& December
The harvest has been gathered and we are thankful for
being able to do just
that.
We celebrate during the fall of the leaves and way into
the first snows
of winter. We dance around the May Poles, parade our
happiness, fly on broomsticks,
decorate trees and poor fruit from a shell. We fast and
feast, warm creamy
colors, spicy toppings, orange glazes, fresh bread, home
made pies are a
common sight. Aroma and trinkets.
We find away to look up and thank the unknown deity that
patrols our sky.
We share our gift and renew our vow in..
October, November& December
***
I am going thru a phase where I understand words.
This should have happened
when I was sixteen years old. Well whatever if by some
chance I'll be reincarnated
as some minute particle on this planet of ours I want
to be completely aware
of my standing in life.
When they take a photo of the earth from space
to give us our weather and
show us a nice snapshot of earth. We are there with all
the animals and
trees and rocks and sand. The water moves about in waves
and our long lost
and departed are there. Nothing has changed but time
as it passes. We are
there on earth, we exist, and we occupy our space in
time. We can't seem
to see our bodies or the soil beneath our feet but we
know we are there.
We are the dust as we are the body.
***
Awareness
Do we as humans blunder into places where our mind has
no business being?
You know the place that keeps us up all night with worry
and a chocolate high.
The place where the heart races to undo the damage of
lost sleep.
How do we get back to the place where whatever we see
is there?
Do we have to count on our fingers about this little
piggy?
Are we getting closer to the point in time that sees
the word before you and as
you look away you see whatever you eyes see?
Can we clearly see the puzzle?
Are we there? Are we here?
Are we at the place our scholars talk about?
The answer is always yes at this time and no we are not
in 14BC but we do
understand that they were as aware as we are now.
***
Rebecca
I wrote this piece below the other day to try explaining
to everyone that we are here no matter what happens to the earth.
I realize that the earth could explode and dust/and or
vapor would be all that is left. Whatever.
Some particle of life will be there. Some substance of
our presence will be there.
Saying that I thought about my mother and her presence
on earth.
Her physical presence has not been found or I am not
aware of whoever knows of her presence on
this planet but I realize this.
She is here.
She loved, lived and became a mother of three children
that I am aware of.
She was a sister in a family who say that are not aware
of her present existence today.
All that is left to me is speculation about her whereabouts.
So I now I know that in a photo taken from space of this
planet that my mothers dust or presence will be there.
Her marble marker in life is here in these words and
every photo of earth.
Her life is in my substance and in my families.
Life should have been better for her.
Do we as humans blunder into places where our mind
has no business being?
You know the place that keeps us up all night with worry
and a chocolate high.
The place where the heart races to undo the damage of
lost sleep.
How do we get back to the place where whatever we see
is there?
Do we have to count on our fingers about this little
piggy?
Are we getting closer to the point in time that sees
the word before you and as you look away you see whatever you eyes see?
Can we clearly see the puzzle?
Are we there? Are we here?
Are we at the place our scholars talk about?
The answer is always yes at this time and no we are not
in 1945 but we
do understand that they were as aware as we are now.
We read poetry and sometimes a great novel.
History and biographies pass along our paths.
Sometimes we meet a human that is a novel, a human story,
a biography, and a person with a life that is a story.
Could it be that each one of us is indeed that great
novel?
We as individuals are cloaked in suspense and drama,
veiled in insecurities and peaceful oblivion.
We share what all great writers write about, we carry
our novels in our souls as
we walk into that great storeroom of good words.
This is a nice thought.
Rebecca
***
There is a constant motion of the pen.
The elegant swirl and dot, the lavish color of ink, the
continuing saga of life among us beings.
Some of us are aging swiftly and some flowers just being
born.
It is hard to put our thoughts into a manila envelope
and say here are "the sixties".
If you look you can see it in the early books of
"the sixties".
If you listen you can here it all on the radio.
People died in the trade center listening to the music
of the sixties.
We have almost made George Harrison into a deity and
time will.
I do not approve of that, whatever.
We have occupied the space in our lives with a great
amount of zeal.
Our influence will always continue as it has. There will
be no cubbyholes for us.
We have broken down all the barriers.
How do you separate the naked wild beast of Morningstar
with the BMW Yuppie?
It cannot be done without doing some damage to the equality
of mankind.
We have evolved.
***
In the late fifties I was dressed in slacks by the clothes
maker Levi and a nice pressed shirt on Sunday.
During school I wore whatever fad carried the day. I
was clean and nice very similar to the attire I wear today.
But what is the difference between then and now?
The ability to be different was the difference.
In the fifties we all marched in a strait line with only
the minority being "cool".
The children of the late fifties and sixties walk into
the environment, The South, New York, Chicago and
San Francisco to be part of that minority.
We were only doing what we were told to do by our environment.
Everyone today speaks openly about his or her cause in
this environment.
Now we are accepted as part of the environment.
***
John Stienbeck
How did I ever become aware of John Stienbeck?
After my discharge from the service in 1962 I had time
to look for work and spend a lot of time at the library.
I was working at a car wash in San Jose with a lot of
folks from
Nicaragua who were sending most of their money home.
I think I read every single book I could find written
by John Stienbeck.
For unknown reasons he hit home with me, showing me and
taking places that I had never been before.
Places that were not very far from the ocean towns that
I grew up near.
Places I had traveled by while hitchhiking along Highway
101 (El Camino Real) on the coast of
California between San Francisco and Los Angeles in 1962.
It was a pure pleasure to read his books.
I wanted to become a bracero.
I got close to being a bracero by working the lemon groves
near Golita years later and
then moving on to the hops and apple orchards in the
Yakima Valley of Washington State.
***
The New Year
I was raised one half mile from ColoradoBoulevard in
Pasadena, California.
New year's eve my aunts would take all us kids on a tour
of the floats and horsesbefore the parade started.
All the floats and horses would be lined up on the adjacent
streets near our home at 40 Belfontaine.
We could smell the horses, flowers and the roses.
And on New Years Day we would be lined up on Colorado
Boulevardeager to watch the parade.
Mexican cowboys would lasso us and throw confetti as
they rode their horses by us.
The marching bands would bellow John Phillip Sousa and
ignite a marching child of glee.
And now I have a new responsibility something like creating
a wonderful world of Disney.
Something like a Wal-Smart greeter, a place in the mind
where all of your troubles will be as
kind as a hippie in full flower and as peaceful as Gandhi
and Buddha.
Peace on Earth, Good will to being.
***
These are the luxuries of life.
The luxuries of city life, a wooden home covered with
bricks.
Water from a city lake or well.
Natural gas piped all the way from Texas.
Electricity from gods knows where.
We pay for these services.
We have an automobile that runs on some kind of fuel
hopefully the sun.
These are the luxuries of life.
***
How easy it is to move our bodies from poverty to luxury.
There are folks that I know that do have the means to
have these luxuries or
move their bodies closer to these luxuries.
They know that they exits but that is as close as they
get.
Yet most of us move our bodies to these extremes without
much difficulty.
We just move over and there we are.
***
What am I seeing?
As I dropped out in 1967 I remember the folks that moved
so fast that they could not see.
That was my perception at the time.
They are a different group now but they are still there.
They run around saying that, "Someday they will get to
that or after I retire I'll deal with that."
I remember the man or women that says, " Gee the day
moved so slowly." They are wishing for the end of the day.
This particular end is happening now.
I write what I see and mostly I see this view from this
window, this pane, and these lenses in my head.
So whatever time moves about me is reflected in my moment.
Misplaced words. Incorrect vocabulary.
We have a good sense of time. We place words on places
where they are at.
This makes sense and it does not make sense.
Laurel tries to correct this all. Putting words in places
where our teachers told us too.
Please do not throw words onto the blackboard.
The words we throw are meant for peace, of mind, on earth,
for the soul.
***
I used to weep for the earth and the amount of pain that
it endures.
I would cry in my heart for hours on end.
I would put my heart in the place on that cross a place
all martyrs are at.
I realized that to correct that pain that I would have
to stand up and die for what I believed in.
I did not want to die so quickly.
I wanted the earth to move slower so that each moment
that I lived I would try to correct what was before my eyes.
And as the earth moved more slowly, vivid details were
seen and I began to wonder.
Who could possibly create such technology and beauty
in our bodies?
What am I seeing?
***
I am up at 3am
The world is typing "Sept. 11, 2001" on their computer
search engines.
They are privately looking up all the references to that
date.
There is something in their minds that refuses to give
up the thought of that disaster and
the loss of so many lives because of hatred.
Human beings were lost and pulverized on that day because
someone believed that our standard of living was evil.
How many of us believe that our standards of conduct
are evil?
We are doing two things at once,
one is forgetting that day and the other is not forgetting
that day.
***
For Sale
Echoes of the Sixties
". Colorful streamersareblowing in the wind overhead.
A used sixties lot of memorabilia is for sale.
A "One Percent Free" sign is lying to one side against
the volumes of "Open Land by Lou Gottlieb".
Dust, paper and rust cover the steel grate where we hear
the echoes of the song
"This Land is Your Land……"
We here the cry, " I had no choice, I have to live,
someone was going to do it", "Why not me."
Echoes of the Sixties
For Sale
***
Young people want to know what hippies were like?
The answer is similar to what we see today in the year
2002.
The hippies were the folks that moved into a new environment
to create a better world.
People today are no different when they see something
wrong they move
closer to that environment if they wish to be it or change
it.
The degree of change goes with the mind.
Sometimes it is just votes and sometimes it is a radical
180 degree movement.
I write to try and explain it others just live it.
Web sites do the same, some try and explain it:
(Diggers, Morningstar Ranch, Wheelers Ranch, The Farm,
Rainbow)
other live it (Tolstoy, Dancing Rabbit, The Farm, Rainbow).
Young people want to know what hippies were like?
***
January 15, 2002:
25 acres of utopia in secluded landscape in remote area.
Ideal for a utopian village of sharing responsibility
and a loving environment for children.
Build yourself an environmental friendly home of straw
that is heated by the solar system and
cooled by the earth.
Garden in the community garden that has shared responsibilities
and
dine at home or at the community center.
This is our environment of the future.
Old Hippies need not apply.
***
everything is normal.
It is quiet and dark out this Sunday Morning.
Yesterday morning I cleared the walk and driveway of
snow.
The snow was bright, wet and heavy.
The neighborhood kids were out building snowmen.
Nothing is moving in this mind to realize the wonderful
gifts that I have.
The morning is "so-so", the clear presence of light is
not here, and everything is normal.
The gifts that are here are not seen,
the welling deep inside that I normally feel needs to
be found,
everything is normal.