An Article Review In MLA

Every time I compose a paper to the standards of another I feel as though it will fail. I never wonder how I would have written the paper if left to my own devices… because that is what I do! After reading the rubric, I seem to somehow say, “Okay, now let me do this thing my way and we’ll see where this goes.” But then to refine into the standard laid out before me… that is the task. The entrance of citations where they ought to be. The tense checks and the brain aches. Yet it is all a creation, so I focus on that… and I write this paper a month prior to the due date so that I may submit the madness for an initial review!

43wolves: #reallife #thetruth #thefacts #greedkills #lifecoach #gregcarroll #reikimaster #reiki #pma #pmaallday #wakeuppeople #loveyourself #loveeveryone #weareallrelated #quote #savethechildren #savetheplanet #spirituality #letgo #motivated #inspirational #selfconfidence #mindfulness #nonattachment #Skateboarder #Skateboarding

43wolves: #reallife #thetruth #thefacts #greedkills #lifecoach #gregcarroll #reikimaster #reiki #pma #pmaallday #wakeuppeople #loveyourself #loveeveryone #weareallrelated #quote #savethechildren #savetheplanet #spirituality #letgo #motivated #inspirational #selfconfidence #mindfulness #nonattachment #Skateboarder #Skateboarding

She awakened wide form the sweetest thing. A first friend saying, “hey.” She felt they would create. And in that way, her dreams came true. She was awakened with a sweetest, “Hey.”
She found through experience that when she loved and desired a man- even when the camera were placed within her hand and she had actively photoed all else around- to photograph him was, wrong? Wrong. Her hands could not pick up the piece, and when they did the apparatus could not take a picture of his face. She always felt silly asking and believed the act of simply photographing would somehow give away her complex affection. She loved the moments she photographed and she loved him yet to photograph his face would be torturous because then she would have source material to paint all day, always.

With just one little Fred Meyer post, today my trombone Yoda reminded me of the love I had for my Grandmother and her ability to be gleefully excited. Her legally blind vision did not prevent her from having bird of prey eyesight for any Fred Meyer store she saw anytime we traveled to the Oregon Coast. Her excitement was such we had to stop at each Fred Meyer along the way and she generally walked around and looked at things without a single purchase. My Grandmother was a relative enigma yet her love for Fred Meyer was clear. Perhaps I grew up being jealous of a store chain because I wished her love for me was that concrete? The day before she died as she did laundry the little woman kissed the top of my head. She was standing on a stair and thus able to place pursed lips upon my hairline as I had done to her so many times. That day only- she told me of my importance. In seventeen years of each day with her such words were shared with me upon the stairs that final July day. That was how I knew she would die. That was the beginning of a fissure in my heart which lasted 13 or so years.

We must appreciate one another as we live not only as we die. We must have peaceful hearts with love to give so that we may heal a world unable to hear over the confusion. I am not confused within the way I wish to create and do so. I am full of purpose and I wish the same for all others. We must attempt to heal or no success can be. The success of peace.


So this is my new friend for the weekend. She falls asleep on me a lot.

So… I probably have to paint her!

Whenever I nap during daylight hours… the day was, odd? It also appears the night becomes long.
For So Many Years and Just Yesterday

I was the smile and stare with nothing much behind.

I was the yes sir and yes ma’am without a rewind.

Only in writing and speaking and such did I find the way to love.

Sometimes it is singing a song after I am berated when I need a hug. 

The playback is upsetting initially until the point is realized.

To love.  To heal.  To care. 

And when my pursuit of art seems relentless I confine myself within three systems to show what overdoing can be. 

Yet, the creation is all that I have within me.

My mother said the silence I live within is great.

I explained the growth within solitude after interacting with community all day.

I mopped up the floor with reflections and consumed salad con kiwi prior to changing. 

I believe the best breakfast is with the people you love and the most soothing meal is rice with raisins and milk.

And I know that my face can ache too much to say, “I love you” in the morning.  So, let me wake up and show my love to you?

Yesterday was good… for so many years there was no yesterday.


I was walking through the store and this came to my mind and phone in two parts.  A mother daughter shopping trip wherein art was delivered and a friend was reconnected with.  The sadness would dissipate but the lies would remain.  I prefer brutal honesty I suppose.  Happiness is something I hope to build throughout time.  Pleasantries could solely surround a sinking me and I would not complain too much unless they were too sweet.  I prefer politeness yet, false sweetness is… sickening! 

“Honey bunny,

Honey bunny

Do you think…?

I think it’s funny!

Everything I say, I can’t

You want to win so you will rant.

Oh honey, honey bunny.”

Everyday I cry because…

Everyday she lies because…

Because, she does.

Everyday she yells at me.

Very rarely pleasantries.

Oh no, I’ll go… alone

Oh no.

Two elder dogs I happened upon while at the veterinary clinic.

Stretch- May have suffered from a stroke.

Leo- A champion.

The moon and what she does to a rural sky scape.

Where’s my camera?  Where’s my camera?  Very rarely do I chant that question yet it always seems to involve the sky!  There are just some moments which are so full of a slight window of opportunity and the sky holds many of such moments for a lady like me.

A Bengal named Simba for a man named Israel.

A Bengal named Simba for a man named Israel.

When you listen to your handlers over your heart whose hand do you hold? If isolation is the imagined ideal isn’t that contrary to the artist? If introversion cannot be helped yet yearning for more is upon the forefront of your fingers what can you do but write and say with every word, “I will not be damned, I will be.” Then within that presence there is the free. I will be, it all started with. The eye in the will of the bee.
When about 700 words just flow from you like a fountain pen… that was some goodness. That shit was real.
When she realized she was being held captive within the web it was not too late, it was never too late! She simply needed to plan the route of escape and be a coyote to the spider woman. Perhaps the arachnid lady had met her match, the female coyote… or rather, the trickster had found freedom! She found it within the thought alone creating it so. Tricky Coyote of the creatrix variety. Too tricky? Nah… just unstuck!