Hello everyone

On Fri, Jul 15, 2011 at 11:20 PM, 118 <[email protected]> wrote:
>
> While I turned away to spare him any shame, the hands of God grabbed
> me deep within and made me turn around and visualize him one more
> time.  The old man still sat there with his head down, tears dry,
> silent now,.  The church door behind where he sat suddenly opened and
> a small child appeared, running into the man's arms, calling out
> "Grandpapa! There you are!  Let's go down the hill"  That could have
> been me.  I guess God answered his prayers after all.
>
> Uncle Alamo died two days later.  I remember a cold wind blew the day
> we buried him on the lonely cemetery hilltop behind where sat the
> church; him and Auntie Virginia use to take me there when I was but a
> boy.
>
> No one came to his funeral but the preacher and me.  The rest are
> already there on the hilltop, waiting.  Waiting with the GrandMamas
> and GrandPapas.  Perhaps Alamo was accepted, he certainly did not come
> back.  And Thomas knows that he was in a good place.  My bones will
> someday lie there too.  Daddy will join his brother, and then be there
> with Mamma waiting for me.  But I have a road to walk, yet; do them
> proud.
>
> -Anonymous

Hi Mark

It is good to pick an author who we admire and make their words our
own. I do it all the time to the myriad authors I've read over the
past fifty odd years. Actually, it is the first time anyone (that I
know of) has used my words to make their own. Pretty cool...

Thank you,

Dan

>
> On Thu, Jul 14, 2011 at 11:01 PM, Dan Glover <[email protected]> wrote:
>> What's your name? She asked the question late one night when they were
>> closing up. He'd been too shy to approach Lisa but he knew her name;
>> he couldn't quite understand why she didn't know his name as well.
>> They'd been working together nearly a month now. But then in between
>> the space of her speaking and him answering, he reasoned (to himself)
>> that she did know his name... it was her way of starting a
>> conversation that he himself didn't quite know how to start.
>>
>> Billy. Billy Austin.
>>
>> I'm Lisa.
>>
>> Yes, I know, he stammered the I know slightly, not wanting to seem too
>> familiar. She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't let on.
>>
>> Where you from, Billy Austin?
>>
>> Oklahoma.
>>
>> Your skin looks so dark! she said, touching his arm, running her
>> fingers over his skin ever so lightly, just brushing the hair that
>> grew there curly and abundantly.
>>
>> I'm quarter Cherokee, or so my daddy told me, he said. He didn't move
>> his arm. He liked her touch. He liked it a lot.
>>
>> Your daddy?
>>
>> He's dead now. So's my momma.
>>
>> Yeah, mine too, she said, taking her hand away from his arm and
>> drawing herself a glass of beer from the spigot, tilting it expertly
>> to avoid a foamy head. So you're all alone, Billy Austin?
>>
>> Yes. I live upstairs. His eyes went automatically to the ceiling.
>>
>> Really! Her eyes followed his to the ceiling. She lit a cigarette and
>> drank the glass of beer down in a gulp. Plunking it down on the bar,
>> she said, Can I see?
>>
>> Sure, come on. He led her outside, carefully remembering to lock the
>> door behind them, and she followed him up the side set of stairs
>> leading to his apartment. He unlocked the door and kicked it at the
>> bottom where it stuck sometimes, especially when it rained. And it
>> smelled like rain tonight.
>>
>> You ever been with a woman, Billy Austin? she asked, as she settled
>> herself on the worn-out sofa adorning the living room. It was mossy
>> green and sagged in the middle and its felt-like hide looked all
>> matted down like it had been deep down under the ocean for a thousand
>> years.
>>
>> I was married once, he told her, watching her eyes, gauging her
>> reaction. A long time ago.
>>
>> Yeah, me too, she said. A distant look came into her eyes. Didn't work out?
>>
>> No, I guess it didn't.
>>
>> Well, don't feel bad, she said, finishing her cigarette and stabbing
>> it out in the overflowing ashtray that rocked back and forth on the
>> cardboard box he used for a coffee table. It didn't work out for me
>> either, Billy Austin. Got anything to drink?
>>
>> Beer. I got beer. That's about it.
>>
>> Get me one?
>>
>> He went to the kitchen and took two cold bottles of Budweiser from the
>> refrigerator. He liked the taste of beer in bottles better than cans
>> even though they cost more. Walking back to the living room, half
>> expecting her to be gone, he twisted off one of the caps. She was
>> still there though, sitting on the sofa, waiting for him, so he handed
>> her the beer.
>>
>> I see you watching me when you're working, she said, after taking a
>> long pull from the bottle and shaking her long dirty-blond hair out of
>> her eyes the way she did.
>>
>> Oh, he said, standing there feeling flummoxed and not knowing what
>> else to say. He felt his face grow red, red like the neon bar sign
>> that glowed off and on all night long outside the living room window,
>> shouting out Nick's Place, Nick's Place, Nick's Place. He always
>> blushed easy; momma used to say indian blood runs quick and hot. He
>> lit a cigarette in an effort to hide his embarrassment and twisted the
>> cap off his bottle of Bud, leaning over and dropping it into the
>> ashtray.
>>
>> It's okay, she said, looking up into his face with big brown eyes that
>> he could drown in and be happy doing it. I like it when you watch me.
>> Come on over here and sit by me, Billy Austin.
>>
>> On Thu, Jul 14, 2011 at 11:00 PM, 118 <[email protected]> wrote:
>>> Yeah, I can see it now
>>> The distant red neon shivered in the heat
>>> I was feeling like a stranger in a strange land
>>> You know where people play games with the night
>>> God, it was too hot to sleep
>>> I followed the sound of a jukebox coming from up the levee
>>> All of a sudden I could hear somebody whistling
>>> From right behind me
>>> I turned around and she said
>>> "Why do you always end up down at Nick's Cafe?"
>>> I said "I don't know, the wind just kind of pushed me this way."
>>> She said "Hang the rich."
>>>
>>> Catch the blue train
>>> To places never been before
>>> Look for me
>>> Somewhere down the crazy river
>>> Somewhere down the crazy river
>>> Catch the blue train
>>> All the way to Kokomo
>>> You can find me
>>> Somewhere down the crazy river
>>> Somewhere down the crazy river
>>>
>>> -Robbie Robertson: "Somewhere Down That Crazy River"
>>>
>>> "Here's looking at you kid"
>>> -H.B. in Casablanca
>>> (as time flows by in Rick's cafe).
>>>
>>>
>>> The ghost was her father's parting gift, presented by a black-clad 
>>> secretary in
>>> a departure lounge at Narita.
>>>        For the first two hours of the flight to London it lay forgotten in 
>>> her
>>> purse, a smooth dark oblong, one side impressed with the ubiquitous 
>>> Maas-Neotek
>>> logo, the other gently curved to fit the user's palm.
>>>        She sat up very straight in her seat in the first-class cabin, her
>>> features composed in a small cold mask modeled after her dead mother's most
>>> characteristic expression. The surrounding seats were empty; her father had
>>> purchased the space. She refused the meal the nervous steward offered. The
>>> vacant seats frightened him, evidence of her father's wealth and power. The 
>>> man
>>> hesitated, then bowed and withdrew. Very briefly, she allowed the mask her
>>> mother's smile.
>>>        Ghosts, she thought later, somewhere over Germany, staring at the
>>> upholstery of the seat beside her. How well her father treated his ghosts.
>>>
>>> -William Gibson:  "Mona Lisa Overdrive"
>>> (a father's lasting gift)
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> On Tue, Jul 12, 2011 at 10:42 PM, Dan Glover <[email protected]> wrote:
>>>> They locked him up... told him he was crazy. After enough time had
>>>> passed, he knew it too. He must be crazy. He could see it in
>>>> everyone's eyes. He heard it in the way they talked to him. He felt it
>>>> in the way they kept their distance. Like they were afraid. Not of
>>>> him, but of what he'd become. Or maybe it was him they were afraid of.
>>>> After all, he was crazy so how would he know, how could he know for
>>>> sure of where the madness ended and he started?
>>>>
>>>> They asked him questions and fed him pills. Blue pills, green pills,
>>>> red pills... they all went down the same so it didn't much matter. A
>>>> cup of water, drink, now, lift your tongue. How do we feel today? Do
>>>> we want to hurt our self today? Do we want to hurt anyone today? After
>>>> enough time had passed he began to sense the correct answers, the
>>>> answers that would set him free. Not just free to wander the grounds,
>>>> but free to go... out there... into the world.
>>>>
>>>> The answers didn't work right away, the correct answers. But after
>>>> enough time had passed, they didn't seem as afraid when they looked at
>>>> him. A light in their eyes had replaced the fear. He noticed now that
>>>> everyone had that light in their eyes but the light wasn't always the
>>>> same light... the sane light. The light that said: I am okay. Now,
>>>> when he looked into a mirror, he saw that light in his own eyes. It
>>>> made him feel better.
>>>>
>>>> One day they came and told him that he was indeed better now... that
>>>> he could go home. It'd been so long though that he no longer had a
>>>> home to go to. Four years in an institution will do that. Everything
>>>> was gone. Family, friends, wife, money... like he'd been to war. They
>>>> gave him a hundred dollars and a bus ticket anywhere. So he rode that
>>>> dog all the way west until the sea stopped it; he could go no further.
>>>>
>>>> He rented a cheap room above a tavern by the ocean. The sounds of the
>>>> waves and the people below lulled him to sleep at night. He got a job
>>>> in the tavern below doing the only thing he knew how to do: cleaning
>>>> up after others. He noticed the light in their eyes changing as they
>>>> grew drunk with liquor, meaner, uglier. They made messes on purpose
>>>> just to see him clean it up. But he never grew angry. He just did what
>>>> he did and he did it with a smile on his face. A smile only an insane
>>>> man could wear properly.
>>>>
>>>> She worked as a bar maid and her name was Lisa. All the men called her
>>>> Mona, though, especially after they'd had a few, and they laughed
>>>> about it and slapped their knees as they did so like it was the
>>>> funniest thing. He didn't get the joke but then again he'd never been
>>>> to a museum and he'd forgotten all the art he'd ever been taught. Lisa
>>>> didn't like it. But, like him, she never let on. She just smiled and
>>>> did what she did. He noticed that it was a smile a lot like his.
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>> On Tue, Jul 12, 2011 at 10:17 PM, 118 <[email protected]> wrote:
>>>>> Once he had lived with his new awareness and gotten used to it, he
>>>>> wished to share it with others.  When the breakdown first happened, he
>>>>> was left without ability to share what he saw.  Gradually, he had
>>>>> recovered from the original shock, and spent time with his new
>>>>> awareness trying to understand it.  Now he fully understood it,
>>>>> although not with words, but did not know how to communicate it.
>>>>>
>>>>> There was a wide divide between his personal understanding and its
>>>>> agreement in the Social Layer, which is where he wanted to place it.
>>>>> He felt alone, and wanted it discussed between other people.  Every
>>>>> word that he thought of as part of a description was insufficient, and
>>>>> just plain wrong.  He read how others had done it, but did not have
>>>>> the patience for all the questions that would spring forth.  However,
>>>>> he also did not want to remain alone with his new understanding.
>>>>>
>>>>> He sat in front of the computer and surfed around.  He found a nice
>>>>> slide show that kind of was in tune with his awareness.  A little more
>>>>> surfing brought forth the perfect music to expand upon the slide show.
>>>>>  Visual and auditory, was that enough?  He was feeling something
>>>>> similar but much much more intense.  He opened the window a bit to let
>>>>> the night air in.  Yes!  That was it, that cool breeze fit right in.
>>>>> Not only that but the night blooming jasmine was expressing itself
>>>>> fully at that time.  But how many people know about that breeze and
>>>>> that smell.
>>>>>
>>>>> He decided that he could not share it over the computer.  He would
>>>>> have to wander the lands and find people who he could show directly.
>>>>> An while such a journey seemed long, he knew that by doing it that
>>>>> way, he would no longer feel alone.
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>> On Tue, Jun 14, 2011 at 12:37 PM, 118 <[email protected]> wrote:
>>>>>> Hi All,
>>>>>> It has been said that communication through writing lies within the
>>>>>> realm of static quality.  Certainly it can be said that it is based on
>>>>>> Subject/Object grammar.  How then do we point to dynamic quality,
>>>>>> without getting stuck in these circular discussions which only point
>>>>>> towards themselves?
>>>>>>
>>>>>> I propose that there is a method in writing which is based on Dynamic
>>>>>> Quality.  In fact there are many methods being used today with such a
>>>>>> basis.  Train of thought, or automatic writing is one of those.  Often
>>>>>> I have to read my posts after I have written them to see what I said.
>>>>>> In this way writing is more like talking in the present tense, in the
>>>>>> moment.
>>>>>>
>>>>>> So, what does this look like when we are relating something that
>>>>>> happened in the past?  Well, we must remember that things that
>>>>>> happened in the past were happening in the present at one time.  By
>>>>>> present I mean that infinitesimal (non-existent) fraction of time that
>>>>>> we live in.  In order to explain this, I will use an example that has
>>>>>> nothing to do with MoQ, since that is much more difficult.  I will
>>>>>> choose the following sentence written in standard past-tense grammar,
>>>>>> and convert it to dynamic quality format.
>>>>>>
>>>>>> "The lovestruck man swam across the cold river to be with his expectant 
>>>>>> lover."
>>>>>>
>>>>>> OK with that?  Now here is the Dynamic Quality Format:
>>>>>>
>>>>>> "Feeling alone and despondent, the intensity of desire was building.
>>>>>> Each step brought him closer to that object of his desire until he was
>>>>>> met by a cold river which presented a barrier.  Yet, his wanting
>>>>>> pushed him forward.  As he entered, the cold began to travel up his
>>>>>> body until he was completely free of suffocating heat.  Arm over arm
>>>>>> he entered into a mesmerized state where each moment was unique and
>>>>>> separate from the previous.  He had no idea how long he was in this
>>>>>> state, but found himself surfacing at the shore, and the spellbinding
>>>>>> cold was replaced slowly with heat once more.  This much closer, he
>>>>>> moved slowly towards that which he sought in order to satisfy the
>>>>>> longing which had held him for so long.  This was the woman who was
>>>>>> expecting him."
>>>>>>
>>>>>> So, why do I call this "writing in Dynamic Quality format"?  It is
>>>>>> simply because as one read this, everything is opening up to the
>>>>>> reader as happening in the moment.  The subjects and objects are
>>>>>> revealed as they happen.  It is not until the end of the sentence that
>>>>>> the beginning is defined.  This is the way life works if we live in
>>>>>> the dynamic moment.  Each moment defines those that occurred
>>>>>> previously.
>>>>>>
>>>>>> Give it a try and see what you guys come up with!
>>>>>>
>>>>>> Cheers,
>>>>>> Mark
>>>>>>
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