Issue 7- "Uncharted iPhone Territory"

Fixing to turn in, but just wanted to say I've been hooked on the first Uncharted game and am in the process of downloading an Uncharted clone for iPhone, called Shadow Guardian. I'll let you know first impressions after playing with it tomorrow....

Issue 6- "The Child Within, Part 2"

A paintbrush stroke
Can not replace a gentle stroke to your face.
A bright splash of paint
Can not replace your face as we splash in the water.

A story
Can not capture the raw energy of a night spent in Clarksdale.
A poem
Can not remind us of a quiet beach cove that, as yet, has not been.

But a simple smell of you, a taste of your hair
Can make me remember why I fell in love with you.

Issue 5- "The Child Within, Part 1"

To slowly stroke a pencil over a blank canvas, curving and looping with grace and precision. Lightly shading here, cross-hatching there, ending with a masterpiece of anatomy. Feeling the sweat of her brow splash upon my face as we make love, the wetness of her hair mingling with the slow moans she emits as I push, pump into her body...creating musical bliss. A slow crescendo builds unto the endgame, flashing lights and a popping noise as her back arches with the intensity of our love-making. Laying there, waiting.....

I love being a penciller

Issue 4- "World Traveler"

Listening to Tool Radio once again on Pandora, and unwinding after a day of transports. Everywhere from down the street to Marion, Arkansas, boy am I tired but it was a fun release from the everyday grind. Re-chrome job on the jukebox is almost complete, and after replacing the bubbler lights inside tomorrow, this place will begin to take shape. As well as draft beer taps, I found an antique Coca-Cola soda fountain, and after another week or so of hand-painting, the newly extended cabinet I've placed it in will carry 6 flavored Coke products and 5 Pepsi handles. The second cabinet will have 8 draft beers, and the mirror-backed shelf dresser will hold approximately 100-110 bottles of various "drank". I can feel the excitement building within, and the populace around here will be even happier to see my surprise opening in a few weeks, and I have all new neon signs and lights that I have yet to put up. In fact, from the outside, the building still looks derelict except for the dual locks I've put on the door. So, the surprise will be complete soon....

Issue 3- "Lateralus"

Really just wanted to let you know I'm rocking out to Tool, and I forgot exactly how powerful and moving their music is. I really should get more in tune with myself, it will make life less stressful and more palpable. Time to crack out "The Child Within" issues of Spec Spidey and go old-school.....

Issue 2- "...that Old Feeling"

Well, here I am again. First two-nights-in-a-row posts in a long time...feels good to stretch my sea legs. The Cafe is being built more slowly and methodically this time around, kinda looking for a Blues-infused Juke Joint sort of feel. My heart isnt up to a seaside bungalow any more...brings back memories and feelings that just bring me down. So, to that end, I picked up a vintage juke box the other day and have been touching the chrome up on it--painting and full body repairs coming soon. I have about 30 blues records to put in there, saving the last spot for a real gem...found a copy of DMB's Before These Crowded Streets, and I'm gonna spend the first dollar myself, playing Crush four times.

I want to be a writer. More than anything I've ever wanted. But I'm torn, because I'm not sure I can follow my heart in both the Psychology and Writing directions. I just want to be happy, have the love of a good woman and have enough quiet time to write. That is why the thought of another Bungalow-styled Cafe was out immediately. It reminds me too much of "The Beach", a story that changed my life. And it reminds me that my own happiness is now found in "Clarksdale", a Hell penned by my own fingers. So now I am constructing my own Hell, hoping that my damned Queen will soon join me. 'Scuse me, gotta get back to slapping this coat of Blue on the walls....

Issue 1- "Broken-hearted Bard"

I write this for none of my friends to see...it is with a heavy heart that I find myself in the place where I am at. I work in a mental health facility, but I am quite possibly an excellent candidate for residency as well as anyone. There are two things I wish for, more than anything in the world--a sense of closure with my lover, one whom makes me feel not unto the most loved and equally loathed creature ever to breathe in our current existence. Seeing her makes m whole but her wholesale rejection of any salient points raised about the ineffective closure to our "relationship" drives me to madness. I have been told by many that I am loved--but only one has truly stood tall when the moment of truth came, and even her future plans feel shaky at this moment. And as guilty as I feel even typing this, she was not the one in whose arms I truly sought refuge from the storms of life. That one, when game time arrived, ran away, for reasons she never disclosed in full, once again because the opportunity to talk about these things is immediately squashed upon it's birth from my lips. Only the lonely can truly understand the full measure of my ire at such treatment, as though my feelings are so different from hers (which is right, of course) as to be demonized and thus never to be spoken into existence. Why does one act as an adult, but shy away at the times and conversations that would bring me a modicum of comfort and rest as I lay my skull upon yon bed?

Perhaps I've spilled enough bile tonight, but I feel only slightly better. Perhaps with the next entry....