Are you up for a little inspiration? Come with me and we’ll get as far away from man-made stuff as we can. A quiet pond will do – the wind texting us with ripples on the water. Or a tall woods standing at attention so as not to disturb us. Or how about this trail through the meadow? The difference between man-made and natural is that when you walk a natural trail your footsteps help create it rather than wear it out. Shall we sit right here? No need for a bench or a log. We’ll just plunk down in the dust or the dirt or the sand. The idea is to get as close to the earth as we can – close enough to smell the dampness and taste the tang and hear the intimate acoustics an inch above the ground. Can you sense the solidness beneath us? How serene it is to surrender to gravity. We are on a chunk of the universe – you and I – the debris of stars…just like we are star stuff.
And the meadow…see how each blade and tendril reaches toward the stars? What is it they want – air, light, warmth? Nature’s imperatives unencumbered. Life is so simple in a sanctuary where raw honesty trumps. How did humans complicate it with ulterior motives and façades? And having conquered the untamed truths of nature, we forced it to wear a costume called civilization – such a sense of humor! Sometimes it’s refreshing to remember the sources of things, so that we can sort through the shams that followed. There are dreams in us still. We can exercise them or exorcise them.
Me, I’ve managed to broaden my sanctuaries considerably without disturbing the zoning restrictions of day-to-day living. Maybe that’s because I stay somewhat isolated – though that’s just the default me, not a deliberate avoidance of others. True, I met the fawn-eyed treasure who turns on my oxytocin some years back (and it’s still sustaining, whether active or in suspended animation), but that’s an ideal whose commitment is only as binding as its parity. Anyone can indemnify themselves against expectations and obligations just by being a one-way street. Because if it’s your one-way street, you get to direct traffic. Janis Joplin said it best when she crooned, “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose…” It’s like quantum mechanics where two opposite things exist at the same time. A never-say-neverland wherein quantum relationships survive all circumstances. And the speed limit is the same for everyone. Which is to say, there is no speed limit. Love is what love does.
A snowfall as soft as the sigh of silk is coming down as I write this. Can’t wait to get outside. A snowflake on the tongue and a breath of polar air on a starry night will cure anything this side of death. You don’t have to shiver in it. Just glide on skis or march in snowshoes until your pilot light ignites. It’s nice to be a furnace in winter. And the afterglow is like the lambent flames of a banked bonfire.
For the many friends and fans around the globe who have heard me speak over the years and asked if there were digital/print copies available, widely read Suspense Magazine has a partial answer. Their November issue leads off with an article I wrote titled WET, NAKED, AND SCREAMING! The feature highlights a comprehensive version of one of my basic themes on writing and marketing that I’ve used to entertain and inform audiences from Arkansas to Oslo. Great issue, also including stuff from Anne Rice and James Patterson. Here’s the link: http://www.suspensemagazine.com/
And to those of you who let me know whenever I leave off Blast-from-the-Past photos, I’m trying to make it up to you this issue. Below please find: #1 my daughter Colleen just before she asked, “When do I get to fly?”; #2 Colleen; #3 my son Sean; #4 Sean in one of his acting roles for professional children’s theater; #5-6 family shots; #7-8 me in writing mode; #9 my sister Merry/mother/me; #10 me on the deck of Brennan pools during a workout; #11 walking with team members in the Dominican where we helped build a church school in 2010; #12 my coaching days at the Lake Erie Midwest Championships.
Can’t wait till I get to
that age where I can stand up at a PTA meeting and shout, “Sex, sex, sex!” and
no one will really notice. But for now
I’ll just have to settle for writing about it.
THE FOUR SEXES is the title of my new column on StorytellersUnplugged
that spells out a method I sometimes use for creating characters in novels and
short stories. Here’s the link:
http://storytellersunplugged.com/thomassullivan/2013/11/15/thomas-sullivan-the-four-sexes/#respond
And speaking of short
stories, I’ve posted an award-winning sketch titled “The 4th Flight
Is Forever” on my website here: http://www.thomassullivanauthor.com/Sample_Short_Story.html
. It’s a
poignant glimpse of my son and me shooting off rockets while defying gravity in
our relationship. Being about
anti-gravity, I hope you can’t put it down (snicker). Oh, no pun is beneath me – none too low, so
to speak. I’m thinking of writing a
pun-filled comedy for live theater…sort of a play on words. Doh!...please, someone stop me before I kill
again! Maybe I should drink a can of
brake fluid (then I can stop anytime).
Hey, who threw that cabbage!?
The holidays are a rainbow
blur to me. I need holy white snow to
keep the colors separate – sort of like a chaser for sushi. But I hope your Halloween to Thanksgiving –
goblins to gobble-gobble – has all the treats and trimmings you desire. And if you’re not going to use it, save the
wishbone for me…
Thomas “Sully” Sullivan
You can see all my books in any format here on my webpage or follow me
on Facebook:
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