A new Renaissance

Tomorrow is the last day of the Mayan calendar.  Radicals are calling it the end of the world trying to whip us into a frenzy.  This simple fact has led many people down the road of mass hysteria.  Some of which have let their twisted minds give them the audacity to do unspeakable things in their panic.  I am horrified by these events, as are the rest of us.  This paragraph is all I will allot for those nefarious demons before I move on to the real matter at hand.

The end of one era leads to the start of another.  The closing of this age, the chapter of time in which we have all been born and grown, seen so many joyful moments and far too many tragedies, opens up something beautiful and heavenly.  A clean slate ripe with opportunity to try again, to start fresh.


A blessed beginning.  The world anew.  The end of the Mayan calendar means we are moving out of this dark age and into a golden age.  The Crusades were followed by the Renaissance. I believe that we are experiencing the same chance for enlightenment.  I plan to take full advantage of this spectacular endeavor, and I hope everyone else does the same.

 

School of Athens by Raffael

Back to Maple Tree...

I haven't had much time to work on my blog or novel writing lately and I am looking forward to getting back to it.  I have so many ideas that I am excited to get to work on.  First, I am trying to finish Under the Maple Tree before I move on to something else.  It's sometimes hard to resist the lure of another idea that would be fun to write, but I would rather have another completed novel than several unfinished stories.  Starting another project before the last is completed will only delay my progress so I will just have to keep plugging along until Maple Tree is finished/edited/published.  Only then will I allow myself to begin working on another story.  I am considering changing directions entirely on my next book, maybe not involving psychology at all.  I write this specific niche that I seem to have a special affection for - psychological thrillers involving mental illness.  It's not something that I originally thought would be my favorite genre, but creative forces often lead me down paths I didn't set out to travel.  (The same is true for my paintings and drawings.)  I don't dwell too long on my ideas or intentions because ultimately, my creativity will produce something entirely different anyway.

Apart from the creative aspect of writing novels, the business end is very important to me.  In order for me to share my novels, I have to promote them.  I haven't had much time to do this either.  I am hoping that if I refocus my efforts, I can spread the word about my novels.  I am slowly building a readership, but I feel that there a lot more people (women, particularly) that will enjoy my writing.  I am currently working on creating video trailers for my books in order to showcase my stories to people who have not had the chance to investigate my novels.  Hopefully the videos will help me promote my work, and be fun to watch too!

I will keep updating my blog with my progress on Under the Maple Tree though at this point, I'm looking at a release date estimation of February at the earliest.  I was hoping to finish it sooner, but it's better to have a well-thought-out book than a rushed one!  I just hope my readers will like it once it's finally published!

Piercing Evil Eyes

Piercing evil eyes
staring from across the street
watching, waiting, stalking
from a dark corner's retreat

Plotting his game
she has no clue he's there
hunting, planning
he can't wait to give her a scare

The time has come
he loves the chase
he grabs her just to let her go
so she'll set the pace

She cries out
her footsteps pound
she can't get away
he takes her down

He turns her over
terrified, her voice is shrill
he covers her mouth

his heart pounds from the thrill

He won the race
he has his prize
Another victim
to cut down to size

He is sick
he is wrong
he needs to stop
he can't for long

Lock him up
throw away the key
keep us all safe
from his reign of misery.

Water Balloon

Love is a water-filled balloon.  

The pricks of an anonymous needle cause it to spring a few leaks, but it is not beyond repair.  

The number of holes will determine the likelihood of love's bursting into nothing but shreds of what it once was.  

Affection and adoration are draining out through the small punctures, a little at a time.  

Don't let it empty, just hoping not to rip the thinning barrier.  

Plug the holes and pray that it holds strong.  

There's too much to lose to let it pop. 

Under the Maple Tree: A letter for Julia

Julia walked through the door to her dark apartment.  She flipped on the light switch and lit up the overfilled room.  The walls were bare and her belongings were packed in towers of moving boxes.  She closed the door and locked it before walking through the tiny living room to the eat-in kitchen beyond it, which was also filled with stacks of boxes awaiting her move in three days' time.

Julia's heart was still in her throat from the anxiety attack she had suffered at the bar.  She inhaled deeply, though it was a fruitless effort.  She sighed as she mindlessly thumbed through the pile of mail she'd brought in with her.  Most were bills, but one letter stood out: a handwritten envelope with no return address.  Julia put the rest of the mail on the counter and looked at the piece she still held.    

She frowned at the envelope, trying to discern who the sender was.  The scrawl was likely a man's, small, sharp letters and tight spacing.  She didn't know who would bother sending a letter through the postal service, considering the easy access of social media, email and cell phones.  The notion was incredibly classy, even gentlemanly.  Maybe the letter was from her father, Jude.  Jude had been sending her checks in the mail to help see her through her move back home.  The postmark was from New York though, definitely not from her dad in Washington.

Julia turned the envelope over and slid her finger under the flap, ripping it open along the seam.  The paper's edge sliced her finger just enough to bleed, and she immediately stuck her finger into her mouth.  The sting of the cut didn't bother her terribly though, and her curiosity was piqued. She removed her finger from her mouth and pulled the sheet of folded paper out of the envelope.  Julia threw the empty envelope on the counter before she opened the letter with rapt attention, searching the bottom of the page for the sender's name.

...Kirk.

She did a double take.  Julia stared at the signature for a moment, in total disbelief.  Kirk had mailed her an old-fashioned letter.  When she couldn't wait another second to read it, she shifted her gaze upward to her own name.  Part of her knew it was probably a better idea to rip it up and throw it away, to never to give it a second thought.  Kirk was a monster, and his true colors had been revealed to her with all too much clarity.  But she couldn't.  She simply had to know what he went to so much trouble to say.

Julia,

I am writing this letter to tell you that I'm sorry.  I know that I hurt you.  There's really no excuse for it but, as the saying goes, all is fair in love and war.  I just wanted you to know that our time together was great.  I think about you and hope you are doing well now that you're back in the States. 

I'm on my way home as I write this, flying over the Atlantic.  I was thinking about you and I just needed to tell you that I am sorry for the way things turned out between us.  I'm hoping you will forgive me even though my plans haven't changed.  I should have been honest with you from the beginning, I know that now.  Thank you for making the time away from home easier to bear.  Good luck to you.

-Kirk

Tiny smears of her blood from her paper cut had stained the page as Julia read the letter, then again.  And again.  It didn't matter how many times she read it, The thing was still just as dreadful, just as tragic.  He'd done it again.  She was finally starting to let the wound of him heal over and from out of nowhere - he pierced right through her like he was a cannonball and she was the enemy ship.  He crushed her with one piece of paper from thousands of miles away.  His power over her was far too strong and too encompassing for her to ever allow anyone to hold the same privilege.  Ever again.  As for forgiveness? Not likely.

Beyond All Measure

Flesh and mind and spirit

flow together like a rapid river

 to ocean deep

heaven's clouds softly gusting 

for lovers drifting

into infinite divinity

their essence of salt and sweet

a euphoric tribute 

to their blissful adoration

atoms spinning into fusion

souls outstretched to intertwine

thudding beats of mended heart

spreading love's blood

vulnerable, timid exposure

bare the soul

to know true understanding

Find the ultimate philosophy

Love.

beyond all measure.

Art by Sven Grier

What's your stance?

My girl friends and I were having a discussion regarding fidelity in relationships.  I was surprised to hear that everyone had a difference of opinion on the topic.  Most would certainly agree that being faithful in a relationship is imperative, and the only moral way to be. No argument here - but the question of how to handle things is really where the roads diverged among us.

Let me explain: one of my friends said that if you ever have a once-in-a-million situation where the stars-aligned and you found yourself in the unenviable position of having cheated on your spouse/significant other, you should NOT tell them.  This was a somewhat surprising outlook to me.  Honesty is harped as one of the most important aspects of a healthy relationship, followed closely by communication.  The concept of keeping such a secret goes completely against both of those rules of thought, however, for the sake of this post - I would like to explore this idea.

My friend's perspective is one who has had a partner be unfaithful, and was hurt immensely in all manners of measurement.  The toll was not only emotional and physical (being single/alone) - the financial fallout was off the charts as well.  So clearly, my friend is speaking from experience.  The backing for her argument to remain hush about it is that telling your partner what you've done is selfish because the confession was likely brought out by your own guilt, and not because your partner deserves to know the truth.  If you did the deed, pay the price by suffering with your own regrets in secret rather than drag your partner down with you, my friend says.  I might be inclined to agree with her.  

That being said, is it better to be in love with someone who was once unfaithful but discreet?  Or is it better to know about it, even if it was only one time?  Will knowing the truth dissolve a good relationship over one slip-up or can a relationship recover after a period of healing and reconstruction? Frankly, it might be better to just stay blissfully ignorant to your partner's transgression. 

Obviously, repeated infidelity shouldn't be tolerated because it puts you, your partner(s) [and their partner(s)] at risk. Some would debate that monogamy is simply loving the one you're with RIGHT NOW.  Apart from the poly-amorous, people generally feel that spreading oneself around denotes a lack of emotional value/respect for yourself (particularly if you're a woman) and for your relationship.  Many cheaters would say otherwise, but they are simply filling their own selfish desires, and not taking into account the needs of their partners equally with their own.  I'd say that most would agree that if you truly love someone, you wouldn't risk hurting them (or worse: passing on an STD) by being unfaithful.

I'd be interested to hear the perspective of men on this topic.  I wonder if a woman's outlook will differ from that of a man's.  Do men feel more possessive over their partners, and thus, less tolerant to cheating? Or conversely, are women more insecure in their relationships because men can have a reputation for "spreading their seed"?  I think it's safe to say that the answer to this difficult question will be different depending upon not only gender, but the personal experience and the belief system of each person.