declaring ownership

I am beginning to wonder, with a sense of a defeatism, why it is so important to declare ownership in a living environment. I live in a place that has declared owners and their declaration does not end at the structure nor with one mention of what they own. Everything I can view, touch, smell and taste and hear (the five senses) has ownership and its significance, although petty and not great to me, places a large role on my current surrounding.

The structure, ownership. The animals within the structure, ownership. The degree to which another can feel comfortable in the surroundings, ownership. The indoor air temperature, ownership. The water drank, ownership with a separate bottle marked 'B' for my father's bottle of water. The same bottle that was declared but has remained in the refrigerator door since ownership was placed upon it and the rest of us were made aware of his prize claim. The food we eat and often the menu placed on the table, ownership. And the time at which food is prepared or served, ownership and If my ideas are objectionable, which usually there are, I prepare for myself or simply prepare for all and do not eat at that given time. I walk back to my borrowed space and just shake my head in wonderment.

saturday 20.05

I have two infections that are worth noting simply because they will have a lot of bearing on how active or inactive I will be on this day, tomorrow and for days, I hope for, after. I have a unrinary tract infection that is consistent and I am being treated with CIPRO. The interesting fact is that the infection was present upon my visit to the hepatologist in January, however; due to the fact that it is considered 'preventive' care, I was not given the medication to avoid infection. Now that the infection is showing symptoms and exacerbating throughout and I can feel the burning and bloat, it is considered 'palliative' and I am able to receive proper medicine although, thus far; the medicine is not working because the infection has taken root, sprouted and grown.

While this has been plaguing, a candida, or yeast infection, has developed in my internal organs. An infection that I can feel after, before, I take a bite, everytime I swallow and more often than not, when I take a breath. This infection, origin unknown, is causing my organs to work under further duress and the aches and pains in brings with it are often unbearable. So with this in mind, I again embrace my disease, give it value and full attention. I have run to the bunker to seek shelter, battle tested and weary as I begin to fight a valiant foe, attacking from multiple direction. My sword liften but again.

dear father

I listened to your so called buzz words, your sense of control fading with the disgusting trash that exits your mouth. So unappealing, so very unappealing and yet you think it is funny or worthwhile to continue the antics of a child during the prime of your retirement. The retirement that beat you, hit you, pushed you, whipped you, shoved you just like you promise to another and this morning it was me.

I listened and distanced myself knowing the one thing, the only thing you wish to have from me I will not give you, control. And you will continue day after today, as you did today and plan to tomorrow and I will not be who and what you wish for.

It is my path, my journey and my life and until you stop claiming it as your own, we have nothing of substance to speak about. The surface is tiresome and to look your direction, boring. It did not have to be, but you yearn to maneuver my strings and I no longer am your puppet and realize, I never was.

friday 19.05

I was five minutes late to answer your call. A call I have been waiting for not just today, but yesterday and the yesterday before that too. I called you back and in the missing five minutes something changed. I told you my plight and you told me yours, idle chit chat at best, when behind the voices I could sense the depth, could you?

Downtown you were headed,
alone.
I talked to you,
alone.
And I would have gone with you and then we could have been alone together but instead, you didn't offer and I didn't ask and alone we remain, only separate and more sad than if I would have not called you back, made up some story and left the empty memories until tomorrow.

temptation

I hide. I seek, I simply seek.

Like a barracuda, hoover, formally known as Mrs. Karley, she sniffs her morning food. After handfuls of little high performance chunks and two pretzel cookies, she maybe saying, I have had enough or I am homesick. Most likely, she is taking a break, only to last a few seconds until the floor once again is 'mopped'.

thursday 18.05

The birds sing through out the night and the wasps fly, lawns are cut and watered and the clothes that I see in the magazines represent changing of season and soon, with all its glory, summer will shine bright. There will be time for picnics, a midnight stroll to a lake or even an atypical all nighter of deep conversation if so chosen. It is a time of the year which I truly love, but in Texas, this too will be different and welcomed.

Change is once again upon us and the life that breathes around and throughout only feeds more energy, positive energy, to me and all other sentient beings and the energy is contagious and wanted and makes me dance and laugh and smile and kick the can through the ally and count to one hundred and thirty one before opening my eyes and looking around for others.

The food is lighter, the produce is fresher, neighbors are more neighborly, attendance declines at the work place and reruns plague the television, forcing many to invest time elsewhere, and this too is a good thing. I even watch as I change cookery, the little I brought, as the difference demands brighter color, more color as my palette craves a well balanced variety of cold dishes and pastas. I think of the song 'summertime' and here the rasp as she sings to me and I sip on a sun tea, decaffeinated of course full of passion flower, rosebud, lavender and raspberry. My clothes smell fresh, my mind sharpens and my birthday, another birthday, almost around the corner.

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wednesday 17.05

I saw a television commercial this morning, in passing and the words spoken and the accompanying pictures frightened me. I asked my father what he wanted to do, the other day, or if he had put any thought into what he was going to do with his time now that fall television season is, sadly for him, coming to a season end climax.

'I'm going fishin.' and I looked at him surprised and nodded my head with approval, put puzzlement since I do not remember my younger father but several times, 'goin fishin' in my lifetime and the vision I have in a boat is him getting pulled back into the boat when he went down the rapids, Colorado, I seem to think, and his business associates are pulling him back into the boat. And in the event that it is not him they are pulling back into the boat, it was worth a large picture of whomever and it was the boat my father was rafting in.

I looked at the television this morning and there was a commercial for Flonax. And during the commercial the two, old men were sitting in a boat 'goin fishin' after they spoke with their doctor about FLONAX and took the medication as prescribed by same doctor, so they would have time to do the things they wanted to do. I knew that the fishin my father wants came from the thing he most admires, the television and do not vision him 'going fishin' or taking Flonax.

eric and August, the creator of serendipity, the bohemian one, the deep thinker, the one who mesmerized me with his work, copper sculpture and shared himself completely by giving me that token I yearned for, a piece I call serendipity... Santa Barbra april, 2006

serendipity came home last night and I danced nekkid against the light with a golden retriever sleeping and the moon, not at its fullest, to the counting crows live version and mumbled the words to 'round here'.

And as I mumbled something slipped through my hands and I was dreaming but maybe somethings I don't know. Round here...hey man look at me. Round here we stay up very very very very late...

tuesday 16.05

Who was I just speaking too, and why all the masks? Have my words of honesty from months before leading up to todays not convinced you of my plight? Are your masks so skillfully placed upon your person that denial has become your befriended accomplice and me your thought process from afar? Did you awake with the covers to the left and a vision of fright?

Your words disappointed me, today I think, this morning I know and your tomorrow may come but my memory fine tuned and anxious for your understanding and love
once again.

monday 15.05

Tonight I blog
silence
and in the moment, it too feels fine and lessens a heavy load that I have carried continuous, throughout the day. I shall put the load down and use it as a cushion to rest my body for a while or maybe until daylight and I will listen to the red house painters and wipe a tear from my eye,
a tear of emotion
and study the moon past full of orange.

my shamantic journeys

I am theWarrior of a nameless, faceless tribe. I search for tribesmen that can accompany to that any place, any time, any plain...and I revel in the commitment to protect and guide my compatriots as I head westward past the barren towns of yesterday, eventually stopping for a drink of a fine spirit...a port to share, laugh with, cry in and simply revel as the moment that is.

For it is without malice I seek to share and understand others and by doing so, appreciate myself better and soak up learned knowledge like a sponge as the dust of dirt roads sometimes clouds my path and the upward sky, cracks with a haze seen until forevers.

sunday 14.05

Today is my mother's day and I will give to my mother,
as a symbol,
on her day, what she has given to me in a lifetime. I will cook her brunch to her perfection, her seasoning, her palette and taste and will stay close by the nest for conversation or simple time, but invaluable time. No voices will be raised and extra effort and energies will be exuded to show her that I do care in only way I know how, with tokens of love and friendship.

And we will smile and relish in the bond that only a mother and son can have and this, I too will enjoy, cherish and take hold of, never wanting to let go. Unlike yesterday and even tomorrow, today will be different. A good different.

To others that have called me son or acted like a mother, I think of you too. And when it is proper I will raise my glass high in the air and toast your honor as I should and remind you, lovingly, as I have previously said with laughter and in passing, 'I get it. One mother is enough, trust me.' I thank you, to all my mothers, from your friend and son,
love,
eric

wedding 'crasher'

Scott, his new bride Lynn and me

Eric,

Lynnie and I just got back from our honeymoon and received your wonderful letter and CD. We were moved by your poignant words and crazy wit. We had such an incredible time meeting you and as we said, there are no coincidences. We understand you may be in the Bay Area per your letter and would love to invite you out to our house in the East Bay if you are up to it. We would love to see you if it works out...

...Anyway, your spirit and heart are felt from afar and you were our icing on our cake at the wedding...we are glad you had a good time as well.

I would be honored to be a part of your tribe any where, any place, and on any desert plane. Until we meet again my friend...

With love always..

Scott & Lynn Rainey