I hate the cold dreariness of this time of year, but at least the stars are brighter.

The boredom and non-stimulating repetition of work has driven me to hunt my own inspiration. I have calluses on my fingertips again thanks to practicing scales on guitar everyday. This is opening up the instrument to me creatively in new ways and re-igniting my love for music and the guitar as an art form.
Late nights make for lousy mornings but at least I'm writing more poetry lately.
I'm also exercising and meditating as regularly as I can, with the goal for the latter to be at least 30 minutes every day. So far all I can do is 20 min every other day. Learning a new discipline can be challenging.

Lately I feel like my poems all use similar language or have similarly dark themes, and I'm not sure how to break out of that pattern or whether I even should. I don't want to be like AC/DC or a blues musician, defaulting to a perpetual creative re-hash of what's already been overdone.
Perspective?

In an hour or so I leave for Sauk City, WI, land of my birth and residence of my parents for Thanksgiving, round 3.

This summer is anything but sweltering, at least in southern Wisconsin. This is bizarre, it's been like 4 months of April. Which I usually don't mind, but some sun once in a while would be nice. At least it's cool and humid today, which is how I like it. Incidentally, cool and humid is terrible for vinyl records and musical instruments. Dammit.

There's a few new poems up, read them and comment please!

I've made a habit of staying up really late a few nights a week and meditating, as well as studying Kabbalah (finally! I've been meaning to do this for a long time). This is the school of mysticism that I've been looking for. The sky has been cracking open, lately. At least for me. Beautiful and terrifying revelations. I understand a little bit of why prophets and saints in religious scriptures become afraid for their lives when they have an encounter with God or an angel. I've been keeping a journal during some of these times, I'm going to start a separate blog for these arcane ramblings, I'll provide a link here as soon as I do for those who are interested.

I saw SONIC YOUTH last Monday night! It was wonderful to see my heroes in action. Kim Gordon is way, way cooler than Karen O will ever be. Turner Hall Ballroom is way, way better than The Rave as a venue. Special thanks to Josh for telling me about the Appleseed Cast being in town a few weeks ago, too. That was another beautiful show- their music reminds me of that deep, eternal longing... the cosmic gaze set toward the far pavilions...

I'm finally listening to "Neon Bible" by the Arcade Fire, after many recommendations by friends. I've put it off because of how hyped they've been in indie/hipster circles, and I HATE hype and hipsters. I have to admit that this is a very beautiful album, however. It touches on some emotions that are difficult to deal with for me- that eternal sense of longing.

I'm about to post a few lyrics to songs I've written this past week. They're definitely different from my normal style when writing poetry, which is necessitated by the meter of the music.

This whole confidence thing is new and strange, but I like it a lot.
This week I had two interviews at Stone Creek Coffee, got hired there, quit Target (...finally), had the confidence to jam with someone spontaneously (it was kick-ass, too), and got offered a gig informally teaching guitar to someone's 13 year-old-going-on-30 daughter. In my spare time I wrote a few songs complete with lyrics and vocal melodies, something I normally struggle with.

Oh, and I'm finally in therapy; I must say that my only regret is not starting sooner. Like, say 5 years ago? Maybe 20... There's no point in "shoulda, woulda, coulda" thinking, but I'm realizing how badly I neglect myself sometimes.

Stood down a two hour kick of intense, cramping nausea like a champ last night. (maybe I'm getting my period.) It's interesting how discomfort can induce an almost shamanic focus in the willing heart. The things in the resulting journal entry have a clarity and insight that I haven't enjoyed for a long time, bordering on psychic power. The colour of psychic power is green, by the way. Not red or black (anymore). Whatev.

When you're tempted to balance the everlasting souls of scarecrows on that blade edged with righteousness on one side and hatred on the other, (that cankered and blackened self-defense) honey- put the sword down. There's no one to fight here but straw men.

My hours at work have been drastically cut, giving me time to rest, reflect, and write. I'm remembering how to breathe, metaphorically and literally- I'm realizing that I usually forget to breathe deeply enough and I'm finding that I feel much better when I do.

A lot of my fears are melting off me, slowly.
My Achilles tendons are also healing with the aid of lots of cold compresses, stretching, and vitamin C.

I have a few new poems here. I keep procrastinating about whether or not to post a couple from earlier this year; I think they're decent but I don't want to bloat my catalog with indulgent and unnecessary filler.
Maybe I shouldn't take my deviantart gallery quite so seriously.
Eh?

Last Saturday night, December 13th, Kyle Guerra was killed in an I-94 accident some of you may have heard about on local news. My wife and I have been close friends with Kyle's sister, brothers, and extended family for quite some time, and this week has been one of grieving for all of us.

In other news, I have a few new and not-so-new (4-6 months old) poems that I'm shyly planning on posting soon.