Warming Up

Through the years I have discovered that this writer needs a warm up before getting down to my writing projects. I use my blog as that place to stretch my mind and heart. It all starts with a bit of coffee, some inspirational music, and a place to watch the world wake. I try to engage all my five senses in active observation with the goal of inviting my muse into my writing world. For you, Dear Reader, the pedalingwriterblog gives you a look into the sometimes peculiar mind of this particular writer.

In good weather I make Peninsula Rose Garden my blogging spot. We've had a cool, wet spring in Oregon. Consequently, I sit today in the library at Concordia University. Outside fifteen guys work on Concordia's new athletic complex. I recently have thought about buildings and what they represent. In particular I think about the human energy contained in each brick. Even in an age of machinery each brick goes through human hands powered by human energy and spirit. Men lift, trowel, measure, place, and pat. These guys pour their lives into this building. I want to publicly thank you. I say “guys” because today I only see males; however, I want to thank you ladies also.

Two F15's streak out of Portland Air National Guard and quickly disappear into a cloud left over from last night's rain. The weather site promised a few hours of sunshine before the next front. Bully breezes push trees around outside my window. I could use a sail about now but am glad to find myself doing what I love most i.e. writing. I've pushed hard this week. Today, I want to regroup and rethink.

A Place to Play

My muse loves me and likes to spend our time together playing with words. I do wish my editor would just accept her. She always walks out of the room when he says the word “deadline.” I have to keep them apart. Consequently, I split my time between them. I go to her for inspiration. With her I refer to myself as an “aspiring writer.” In his presence I call myself the “perspiring writer.” They need each other without realizing it. She guides my creative self. He pays the bills. I guess it works well.

Blood, Sweat, and Beers

Building built with blood, sweat, and beers

Human toil

on compacted soil

thank you, Mr. Hard Hat

climb, measure, lift, bend

through rain, sleet, wind

Your monument more than material

energy encapsulated

in brick and mortar you participated

I'll not forget the you in this building

built with blood, sweat, and beers

your human toil

on compacted soil.

"Okay, Ms. Muse I've some work to do. No, don't go.” I want you by my side. I have a word building to build, and when complete, I want the world to see you in the midst and mist. I'll look to you often.