Letters letters letters

Dear friend,

I would say to you. That I understand how you feel. Sitting next to her on that white couch where I once did. That couch was the first piece of furniture to bare my weight as I sat amongst a crowded group of friends in her presence. I drank wine from that couch. I laughed, loved, and saw a winter snowstorm pass from the arms of that couch. I watched candles burn over the city and ate her terrible home cooked food from that couch. I sang her songs, and drew her pictures from that couch. I watched as she hung them from the refrigerator door. She told me she loved me on that couch. Looked in my eyes and said she would never leave me from. that. couch.

The problem you see, it was not in me. It wasn't in the cushion or the chair or the seat. Unknowingly, I gave heart's heart away from that couch. When all the while, it was your seat that I was sitting in. Many others had sat before me on that couch. I thought it irrelevant and that she'd finally found the perfect occupant for that couch. But now I see. I see I do. It wasn't for me...and it won't be for you. So love your sleeves off. Love her all evening. Make sure she knows that you do. Then quietly pack your things. Re-string your guitar. Leave her with her lyrics....and leave that couch. Just like you found it. white and perfect. In the midst of the only woman who could put such an item to shame. Leave. that. couch.

Hide your heart in a box and walk down the stairs. Out the glass windows and into the streets of the town. Look to her window and know that she's gone. Pick up, pick up, and move on from that couch. Listen to your favorite tunes, most likely ones she lent you. And walk away changed. Walk away wondering. Walk away with the glass of your heart half full. And make the best you can of every day away from that couch. It won't do any good to wish for it back, it wont' do good to send her any more silly letters. She's above the postal system, after all. Just love yourself. And miss her lots. I guess in the end, she got what she wants. You.

-Best of Luck,

Friend

and so we left.

Robert Louis Stevenson once said

"I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move."

This past weekend I feel like i did just that. Wrestled with the great affair of moving down the open road. A phone call on Thursday afternoon from an old friend prompted the question of "not can you pick up and leave on a whim, but will you." Well, anyone who knows me (including my friend Scott) knows that I fell from a high branch in the spontaneous tree at a very young age. He knew I couldnt resist. So off we went, at 4pm on Friday.

The plan (as if we were planning this) would have us in South Texas at the ocean on Friday, The bayou's of Louisiana on Saturday, and North to Shreveport on Sunday. Possibly going back home on Sunday night. The chance that we may both leave all of our former lives behind and become beach bums grew every day.

After an odd experience at a Gay bar the night before, we fell in love with our hotel room view of the ocean. The sunrise, seagulls, and sand were all too much to give up. Louisiana could wait. So we laid on the hotel beds (note* beds as in plural) for two days and watched the tides go up and down and back up again. Contemplating life's mysteries and coming to the conclusion that we can't always answer the question "Why? God." We just have to go on living. Regardless of empty holes in our souls that make us feel lost. We have to lean on each other. And try to keep on keeping on. We have to shake off the losses, and win when we can. We have to find the rum in life. Mankind has a natural desire to desperately need something to live for.

We escaped and ran from everything in the most glorious sense possible.

and coming home wasn't that bad. In fact, we felt ready. Ready to tackle.

I think it could conclusively be said that, when a man stands in the surf and strains his eyes to see the end of the world beyond the edge of the water, it does something good for his heart.

It makes him....

new.

(click on photo for larger view)

Scott and Leslie in 2010

~we love and miss you Leslie. see you soon.

Reagan on Socialized Medicine (1964)

Ronald Reagan "A Time For Change"

Hint

Hint comes around once or twice a year. When things have become good and hopefull. He hangs out there, on your door step....asking if you'll take him. I saw hint briefly last September. It wasn't a welcomed meeting. But here's what he said to me, right after he walked inside:

"Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is left of you."

...ok.

...so actually that was Ralph Waldo Emerson.

But it came to mind.

Going on. having won or lost. as me,

Kyle

....and then a light bulb flickered somewhere in the distance. Could it be? Rescue?

nahh....just a star dancing across the horizon. Posing as a ships safety beacon.....

Maybe next time charlie. Waffle Serious.

January

You can't write your way into love's arms. Only love herself can throw them around you. At her will. Which often coincides with the will of the wind. Who doesnt follow a plan you can understand. You can't buy your way into loves heart. She'll never accept monetary payment. Money means nothing in loves eyes. She'll see through you're silly act every time. She'll know you for who you are.


I want a pot of coffee because it makes my heart glad.

Today has made my heart so glad. The last 24 hours have been fantastic. I really wish I could sum it up with words, but I can't. It's one of those times when all I can really do is sift through quotes that may touch the edge of what I'm feeling.

Jesus is so awesome.
Life will turn out.
Things will reveal themselves.

Love will call.

Kyle

Today was so great.

Today was so great. Words can't really describe it.

My car drove faster. The sun shined brighter. My scrubs fit better.

Today was so great.

Sitting in the quiet of this upstairs apartment, i can't help but be happy about life right now. Today, January 9th, it snowed for the first time of the season. Not much, but enough to force me to put on a pot of coffee mid-afternoon.

I never really wrote a resolution for the new year, and since it IS only January still, i figure the rules say I'm not too late.
In the year past, so many life lessons came my way. I moved off campus, picked up a second job, and sat in on countless Saturday surgeries in the operating room. So many things changed, and so many things became harder in 2010, but I learned so much. I learned in between the pages of books, and i also learned in the streets of this town. Lots about people, and types of people. Reading people, and how to make a patient confortable in the presence of someone the dont know. This year medicine became not just an area of interest, but a job. Three-Four days a week this year, I was into it head first and hands on. There hasn't been a minute of it that I havent loved. And that's been a great confirmation of sorts. That I'm headed into a field I'll enjoy.

in 2011....I would aim to...

1. Love people more
2. Walk, don't drive
3. Create a budget
4. Follow the budget
5. Write more poems
6. Speak more
7. Hesitate less
8. Tolerate more
9. Tolerate less
10. Plan more
11. Be more romantic
12. Be less of a romantic
13. Work on a story
14. 14's a vad number
15. Invest in people who matter
16. Overcome vices
17. Recognize infatuation
18. Appreciate infatuation
19. Overcome infatuation
20. Make a woman smile
21. Make another woman smile
22. Read more
23. Watch less
24. Think before acting
25. Speak before hesitating
26. Drink more coffee
27. Work more
28. Rest more
29. Carry pen and paper always
30. Write "The Rules"
31. Blog more
32. Walk away without looking back
33. Say good-bye less
34. Say good-bye and mean it
35. Expand consciousness
36. Maintain focus
37. Listen to more music
38. Make music more often
39. Make love more often (not sex)
40. Make love more often (sex)
41. Lie less when it matters
42. Lie more when it doesn't
43. Give more people poems
44. Articulate more clearly
45. Stop letting people use words incorrectly
46. Less zealotry
47. More conviction
48. Pay more attention
49. Hunt more whales
40. Less crime
41. More punishment
42. Less self-sabotage
43. More French
44. More staying awake until it I finish
45. More sleeping when it is done
46. More excitement
47. More peace
48. More performing
49. Less acting
50. More of myself: raw, naked, unafraid and unapologetic


List courtesy of Ben Nicols

Leaving home. Ch. 1

It's just after 7:20pm somewhere in New York City, and beneath the shadows of the trees, the snow lays there quietly.


She wondered if this is what growing up was like.
There weren't really any bills. There weren't really any responsibilities. There was just her, alone in the big city. Tomorrow would be her first day of college at NYU. Her parents had come up from Tennessee to help her settle in. They stayed for over a week, and then there were hugs and goodbyes. The big kind of goodbyes. The kind that don't double as a "see you later." Her mother was apprehensive to let her little girl run off alone to the big city. Her father wasn't. He knew she could do it. For it was from his bones that she was tailored. And his independent spirit was contagious in her veins. She would one day be some man's nightmare...her mother thought. But for dad there'd never be a boy good enough, to hold his little girls hand. Though there would. And she would find him.
She wore an Ed Hardy t-shirt underneath her peacoat, the first time she went to the grocery store alone. She was quite the walking contradiction. A mixture of new city styles and back-home influences manifested in her new found wardrobe. Two weeks into school she'd quickly picked out who she didn't want to be like. Still searching for someone that she did. Something about the endless grey buildings washed her old image clean, and left a blank canvas for the spirit of the city to paint. It was a lonesome feeling. But it held so much potential. It was a new beginning that she was in search of, and it was a new beginning that she'd find. A young woman, set out to make it in the big metropolis, had begun a journey that would lead her down unimaginable roads. And they were good.


to be continued.

Coffee's back

Well folks, I had to put some coffee on...

2010 flew by at light speed. The whole year felt like an all-nighter cram session on life. rather than a test. The test of life maybe...who knows. I've decided that 2011 would be a good year to put to use everything I learned from 2010.

I'm making an attempt to enter back into words. back into intricacy. back into love with every day. And instead of writing a synopsis of the whole year past, I think I'm just going to sit here. drink coffee. lots of creamer. and write a poem.

....well I tried, and couldn't do it. Poem-less, if you will. So instead of being the artist, today I'll settle for being the printer. Here's a beautiful piece by a lady who inspires me, Meg Fee...

sometimes she could feel it coming towards here before she ever saw it.
she would feel the rattle in her bones, look up and watch it approach.
a swift sweep across the horizon. a runaway train.
coming for her.
and she was helpless.
simply had to stand there and await its impact.
such was attraction.
most of the time she could ferret it out before it overwhelmed her.
she learned to read the signs.
dark curls of the hair. mischievous sidelong-glances. brooding dispositions. a kindred sadness. long eyelashes and deep-set eyes. strong hands and broad shoulders.

but this. this was altogether something new. different.
this had caught her totally by surprise.
she turned around one day and there it was.

he was good.
it was his goodness.
palpable. quietly radiating.
simple and pure.
and she wanted to touch it.
she wanted to reach out.
place palm against chest and feel it.
to know it with her fingertips.

but she knew.
wherever--however the attraction began.
despite pure intentions and good beginnings it carried in it the seeds of great heartbreak.
and she had loved so often. outwardly. in so many directions at once.
been forced to patch her heart together with nothing but scraps of twine and discarded threads.
and so she couldn't imagine.
couldn't imagine how heartbreak was not the inevitable end.

so she closed her mouth. stopped talking. bent her head as he approached.
tried desperately to preserve what little she had.

and yet.
she wondered.
if he might show her.
an alternate ending.

// I saw this image in my mind, when I read Meg's blog //