cyberwords

Lance Reynald shared an Instagram photo with you

2011-11-01T12:36:00.001-07:00

Hi there,

Lance Reynald just shared an Instagram photo with you:

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Thanks,
The Instagram Team

Thought...

2011-11-01T10:49:00.000-07:00

of firsts.

2010-10-17T12:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my 40th birthday.

On my 25th I had reasons to believe that 40 would never happen, my life and circumstances were in a rather challenged space.

From my 13th on I've never really been too fond of my birthday, it has always been a day of errors, disappointments and far too much introspection.

Friends and loved ones either forgot entirely, got the day wrong or just found themselves so caught up in life that they somehow came up missing the day.

My mom stopped acknowledging my birthday around that time. It took me years to reconcile that this oversight was her defect and not my own.

I've heard that 40 is the time when your soul is ready to enter its era of wisdom.
In so much as I take any such things to heart this seems a reasonable thing to believe.
With that in mind I feel that for the first time in roughly 27 years I actually was able to make it through that single day without the senses of regret and foreboding...

Perhaps the era of wisdom has finally allowed me to just appreciate the day and truly let go of the unpleasant parts of what led to it.

I'm fortunate and even a little blessed to have those that remain an active part of my life and grateful for those that have passed from it. Though I still have certain doubts as to whether or not I'll manage 40 more years here, I'm looking forward to giving it a try.

Thank you to everyone that made getting this far possible.

xo. LR.

Up From The Blue!!!

2010-09-20T21:00:00.000-07:00

I've been waiting years to be able to say this...

HAPPY LAUNCH-DAY, WONDERTWIN!!!

now everyone run out and buy a copy, TODAY!!!

best thing I've read in years!

UP FROM THE BLUE, the debut novel of Susan Henderson.

Browse Inside this book

Get this for your site

forgetfulness.

2010-09-17T01:37:00.000-07:00

For the past few years I feel as though I've been in a freefall.

I took off chasing a dream and started the fall from the moment I set myself into that motion...focused on the dream in such a way that the velocity involved started overwhelming everything I thought I knew about me.

I let go of every comfort I knew.

I moved to a strange new city, alone and far removed from everyone and everything familiar.

Three years that have pushed my existence beyond any limits I had ever imagined.

At times feeling as though everything was spiraling out of control.

Darkness. Despair. Loneliness. Near starvation.

Heartbreak. Disappointment. Feelings of failure and doubt.

And moments that have left me confused and contemplating whether I've made a series of mistakes and errors.

Along the way I shed a rather charmed life and started functioning with little day to day purpose beyond survival.

It is when that shift occurs that a person starts to forget the passions that were once their driving force.

Living hand to mouth has caused me to lose sight of most of the things I love about life.

I never thought I could feel so defeated by myself.

...the freefall needs to stop.

almost everything I love has rushed by in such a blur I don't even know which pieces to start the picking up with...

I don't even feel like me anymore. not even sure if I remember who that is...

restlessness.

2010-08-09T11:11:00.000-07:00

for some reason or another the past year or so of this blog has been but a marginal interest to me.

prior to publication of Pop Salvation I was such the avid blogger.

and the publishing world expects some kind of online presence these days (for what it's worth).

but somehow I feel like this one is...it is barely treading water, currently.

I'm floundering... as though I personally don't even know what my own interests are, much less the ones worthy of sharing.

I know for my part the content has clearly been anemic for some time now. between the friends on other social networking platforms and the various interest outside of my writing this form has fallen a bit lackluster to me... just not a lot going on here... it has been lacking the immediacy I happen upon elsewhere.

careless of me, I think.

so, I need to step back a bit and rethink this whole blog thing...

perhaps reinvent it a bit or find a better format to explore, interact and share with...

we shall see.

any thoughts?

a momentary lapse into vapidity (procrastination at its finest)

2010-07-22T11:58:00.000-07:00

this is the foundation of what I'll look like come fall/winter 10-11

unexpected good fortune...

2010-03-16T21:10:00.000-07:00

awesome news today.

Pop Salvation is an awards finalist!

great to be in such awesome company!

congrats to all the other finalist!

random moments and images that make me smile.

2010-02-28T12:47:00.000-08:00

glimmering hope of a shifting paradigm:
>

and really, just about anything through the eyes of Pedro Almadovar puts things on the right track for me...

because there are always some tunes...

2010-01-30T11:14:00.000-08:00

most of you know that when I'm writing I have to have some kind of background noise.

I'm of the first generation of MTV viewers. Tunes are important, it helps invoke emotion, tone, cadence and dreams.

I have to admit, the new book has not been so easy to conjure. I keep running into boundaries with it. perhaps this comes from my hard expectations of self... I don't want to fail, I don't want to be a disappointment. I wonder at times if I'm good enough, smart enough or crafted enough to say what it is I want to say. I question if any of it is actually relevant.

but even through all the questioning and hitting brick walls of thought, emotions and words I know what the story feels like deep in my gut, and it is usually with a tune that I sense it more strongly...

these two just feel right... not the songs, per se...but the feeling of them.

yeah, I think I'm heading somewhere a bit more stark and grown-up than Pop. (lol)

shopping.

2009-12-30T12:08:00.001-08:00

I keep finding myself on the fence with this one.

I'm curious as hell about the kindle.

as a bit of an anomaly with some of my friends I don't think the device is a harbinger of doom for the publishing industry or books in general. I think of it as a different tool altogether. Though it seems that every time I try to enter a discussion about the device I get swarms of responses along the lines of "but, I love the act of holding and reading a book" which I really do understand... I like books too, a lot...to ridiculous extremes... ridiculous and weighty extremes that often results in a very heavy messenger bag when I leave the house daily... I get the "like books" and "tactile" side of the discussion, but that isn't my real curiosity.

I'm considering adding a kindle to my personal library collection... but with all my friends that seem deadset against the device I don't seem to know a single person that actually has one. Never seen one myself. All the info out there suggest that it is a superior device to both the Nook and Sony E-readers, both items I can see at almost any local shopping mall.

so, I'm asking for a bit of feedback here. If you own a Kindle or even have friends or family that do I'm really curious about it...
what do you or they love most about it? has it enhanced your reading habits? has it replaced books or is it as I suspect more of an adjunct to them?

any useful input would be greatly appreciated.

thanks. LR

treading.

2009-09-03T10:19:00.000-07:00

frustration moment.

how is it that no matter how hard (and much) it is that I work I never seem to get my head above water for very long?

I know I'm not alone in this little quandary...so I'm not gonna burden anyone with the whole "woe is me" bullshit.

but the situation is really starting to piss me off on so many different levels.

Sure, I just moved... and anytime you do that I suppose there is the period of adaptation... the financial reset to accommodate the improvements you've made to things.

for the most part I feel good about the move. The previous setup was little more than shelter for almost two years... and in a great many ways a huge financial burden that drained the hell out of me... but, shelter without much thought...thus serving its purpose for a time.

The new place suits me. it feels more in sync with the life I've envisioned for myself. Compact, modest...perhaps even a bit spartan...but a place that I feel I'll be able to both live and work well for the next year or so. Yeah, it needs a bit of work and furnishing to really feel right (i.e...throw more cash at it...grr.) but, it reminds me of places I've thrived in the past... happier times.

the salad days?

staging life towards the next set of goals. the next book.

and facing the frustrations of pulling all of that off.

typical things I suppose...

looking at your wages and realizing that the time you put in, time that you can't write with, has issued you a paycheck that just scarcely pays your rent and a fare card until the next check cut for the 80 hour pay period you're halfway through...

treading water and wanting for nothing more than to have the home front settled and to steal a bit of time to get back to writing.

I guess everyone chasing the dream and trying to create art has to find a balance for such things.

at best... it's all worth it to be able to "do"...

at worst, maybe I should consider myself lucky to have published one book and just go back to being content with the daily grind and not worry about finding the time to create anything else...

hmm.

yeah...well, we all know it's not in me to accept that as a viable option.

something has got to give...

I'm not happy without the time to write. It's the very thing I've tried to adapt my life to do. not doing it feels like the ultimate failure to my self.

I need to find the balance point.

fascinating...

2009-08-14T13:00:00.001-07:00

I'd always wondered about the little creative world of the three central characters here...

the POP BOX!

2009-07-13T11:12:00.000-07:00

What the hell is a Pop Box?

Glad you asked.

Let’s start with a bit of history and inspiration.
The Warhol Time Capsules

What you should do is get a box for a month, and drop everything in it and lock it up. Then date it and send it over to Jersey…
andy warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol: From A to B and Back Again

Fun, huh?

Or, you could get such a box and send it to the randomly selected winner of a contest.

What might end up in the box?

Certainly books, random trinkets and toys found in a days wandering, things that make me think of Pop Art, Music, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Candy, Posters, Makeup, things my friends might want to put in a box, handwritten notes, photographs, postcards… the list goes on. For the most part it will be things that remind me of all that inspired the novel Pop Salvation. Those of you that have already read it can surely imagine what kind of treats that might net the lucky winner. A bit of glam and glitter brought to your doorstep via the US Mail.

And it’s even possible that if there is a large turnout of entries as the days get closer to the deadline the stakes might get higher and I’ll find myself giddy and generous… who knows… It’s all a gamble, eh?

How will all of you see the progress of filling this POP BOX?

Twitter, of course! Daily photos of the additions to the POP BOX will be posted to my twitter profile found at

http://twitter.com/LanceRey

Now certainly this isn’t going to be so easy as sending me your name and email addy, not for such a bountiful prize. We’re making art together here!

Because really, audience participation is what makes the best shows great. Just like The Rocky Horror Picture Show!

So, what kind of art can we make together?

Photostrips.

You can still find locations for Photobooths at
http://photobooth.net/locations/

For a few bucks you should get one beautiful photostrip that you can scan into an email and write a few words about your day, your feelings, the friend you took with you and how you came to get the photostrip. To get an idea of what I might be looking for go to eightinchstripper.blogspot.com , you following me?

Once you have that strip and a few words email them scanned to actual size to eightinchstripper@gmail.com

As those strips and stories come in, I’ll assign each one a number and at the end of the contest I’ll draw the number from a hat or something of the sorts so we get a winner in a totally random way.

Deadline for this is August 1, 2009. Tell friends, ReTweet it, Blog it, get the word out… because like I said, the number of entries will probably influence the stuff that makes it into the box. And… as long as you send a different photostrip with each entry, you can enter as many times as you like. But it must be a photostrip scanned from a booth. As much as I love all things Apple, snapshots from your webcam in the Photobooth program isn’t what I want to see here. (And no porn, that’s just dull.)
Ok Superstars, get yourselves out to those photobooths and let’s start collaborating on some art!

Xoxo! LR.

there is just a road. not an easy one or a hard one...

2009-06-17T12:47:00.000-07:00

just a road.

forks, twists, hairpin turns and switchbacks.

no point in hindsight, you can make yourself genuinely crazy trying to figure out how even the slightest change in the whole course could have changed where you find yourself standing.

it can be depressing as all holy hell if ya let it.

or, you just face the fact that it is what it is and everything is everything and that's just the way it goes.

there might not be an easy way and you really should avoid giving over to any of the thoughts on how things could be harder.

it's just the nature of the journey. The road isn't making any judgments. It's the solid line you're gonna have to travel from one point to another and no matter where you are along it it's gonna stretch on for miles ahead of you.

(curiously, right as I'm finishing this little word exploration my tour itinerary has arrived. A new experience in Vagabonding.)

just a road.

applying wisdom...

2009-06-09T10:13:00.000-07:00

I get these notes in my email every morning. bits of wisdom from Yehuda Berg at the Kabbalah Center.

Though I'm not exactly devout or at the Material Girl's level of discipline with it, the daily meditations usually provoke some thought.

The note this morning seems to speak to some thoughts I've been sorting through lately, so maybe it's a good idea to take it apart in pieces and see if I can get a bit more clear headed with it...

Tuesday, June 9
A psychological study came out a few years ago showing people regret the things they didn't do more than the things they did do.

and how! This is the first big piece for me today. I think I've been spending the past few months absolutely heartsick over a decision I made months ago. Reliving this whole ill feeling about circumstances and choices. Thinking more about the lousy situation that getting creative about changing it...

One of the reasons we miss opportunities is, even if we do know what we want, we get overwhelmed and sidetracked by thoughts of what it takes to get there.

some months back I had this strong sense of wanting to sort out my life alone. I figured it was a challenge I needed to face in my personal evolution.

In coming to Portland I had stripped my life down to its basics and moved into a decent group living situation. A big old house filled to the rafters with a diverse group of people. In recrafting my life that worked for a while. I'd never really lived with people that I wasn't involved in intense intimate relationships with. I'd never had to adapt myself to the concept of "room-mates". The situation eased some responsibilities and also seemed to provide a fair challenge to what I'd previously found comfortable. The whole situation worked for a year. But I had a strong sense of it being time to do something else. On a very personal level I had discovered that though I was in a house full of people I still often felt very alone. I figured that it might actually be loneliness that I needed to address directly. My goals back then were pretty simple... a studio apartment, a good bike and maybe a dog. The basics, right? I knew it would be tough, but I knew that as for my personal evolution that I needed to take this step. In examining the life and the journey I'd been on I realized that in the twenty something years since I'd moved out of my family home I'd only ever lived alone for possibly less than six months.

Had I really spent over twenty years so terrified of loneliness, abandonment or whatever that I'd managed to never be truly alone in this world? Or had I always been there for others, willing to accommodate their needs in exchange for comfort and company?

I didn't know the answers. I just knew that maybe it was time to find out. I hoped and daydreamed that finally making a go of it alone would help me sort through some of the emotional baggage I still carried about family, relationships, love and even myself. Maybe it was time for my Walden woods experience in a studio apartment somewhere.

My wants were simple: Me, a bike. Maybe a dog.

Life, and the things we dream, don't always go according to plans.

I knew for myself, deep inside that I needed to reconcile my relationship to loneliness in order to grow.

Today, there's no such thing as "I don't know how I'm going to do it." Claim what you want and know that you'll find a way. Choose action over inaction.

to be continued...

fragmentia.

2009-06-06T13:00:00.001-07:00

Dream chasing is a brutal game.

I've always held strong to the Thoreau bit on following your dreams: go confidently in the direction of dreams, live the life you're intended...

Hell, I even had that printed on a dogtag. One could say that for the past few years it has carried me as a mantra.

But it hasn't been just one dream. That would be easy enough. No, it seems like I'm here now juggling what feels like a dozen fragments and slivers of dreams. Along with some hopes, wishful thinking, impossibilities and perhaps even a lost cause or two.

Yeah, I know. That's a lot of balls in the air for juggling.

Becoming a published writer, that was the big dream a common enough dream. It seems as though every other person I meet thinks they should write a book someday or something. The good old saying about having a dime for every time somebody says something... Well, I'd never need royalties on my writing if I was cashing in on "dream novels". The process and fortune of bringing my debut novel to press has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. This crazy ride and confrontation of doubts that I can't really explain yet.

but, as awesome as that might seem, I've come to realize that is just the cornerstone for the dreaming. Those other fragments are still in the air right in front of me.

Hmm. Where to start?

Maybe best to go with the impossible first. I wish my parents were still around. Especially my Dad. Everything I've gone through in the past two years are things I have desperately wanted his advice on. Not a single day has passed without questions doubts and fears I've needed to share with him. And the comfort of his counsel hasn't been a part of any of it. In the big dream he was here to share and he'd finally be proud of me/ for me.

The weight of that hit me again over the past week watching someone close to me grieving over his father. Fathers and sons face a tough road, no matter what the circumstances.

Next fragment:

Home. This one still challenges me. Fitting this jet set, vagabonding and eurocentric self into a place that feels right. I'm not even sure I know where that is yet. At least when considering place. I know it isn't where I am now. Sure there are components of it in my life right now. But, that stronger sense of place and certainty...

Well, I still don't have a handle on that.

A dog. I want one in the worst way but the traveling for the book tour and my not feeling that grounded sense of place... I can't bring a pup into that.

Rest. I'm a workaholic by nature. I need to learn to give myself a vacation sometime.

The next book. ( see above ) It is coming, slowly and painfully whether I want a dog or a vacation or whatever. Seems it's just what I do....

more later.

xo.

of comfort...

2009-05-05T10:16:00.000-07:00

I know it may seem as though I’ve practically abandoned the blog, but I haven’t.
over the past few days I’ve sat here and started writing out entries. rambling along with thoughts and reflection of the past few years and all the events and fortune that has led me to anxiously waiting for the launch date for my novel. A tremendous personal achievement for any writer. (yes, that entry will most certainly come.)
but, that isn’t what really captivates me right now... today the mind drifts along to one word and what it really means to me.
Comfort.
It is something that I thought chasing the dream might bring. But not exactly something that I imagined with the dream.
I find myself sorting through memories for some kind of reference point… like postcards and snapshots of what comfort feels like.
Summer barbeques at Mylandre’s house. Small burgers from the grill served on baguettes … a certain juxtaposition of cultures that makes me smile remembering the great food, conversation, generous amounts of red wine and skinny dipping through the night after everyone else had gone to sleep. I was so much younger then and so very naive.
the subtle perfection of the almond cake at Spruce Confections in Boulder, Colorado. Sitting at their small outdoor table with the cake and a latte with my Vespa parked on the curb enjoying the quiet of a sunny foothills spring morning.
learning to make tortilla paisana in the rustic tiled kitchen of the villa in the hills above Alcala de Henares. The simplicity of the life there. The extraordinary coffee and Spanish riojas, passing the days with nothing to do but shop the local vegetable market and improve my skills at dominoes.
the bacon maple bar at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland.
a dog… life needs a dog. I’ve been without one for well over a year. I think once the book tour is over I should seriously consider finding another one.
I think I’d actually like to take the time to relax and learn how to feel and know the comfort of home. The everyday things that I don’t think I’ve ever really managed to learn… silly stuff like; how to actually roast a chicken.
I know that three years ago my dreams seemed so big and intimidating. But, I’m not sure if I included simple comforts into the dream. I guess it’s time to redefine some of it… make the dreams a bit bigger.
learn to use that roasting pan that sits in the cupboard, untouched.

haunted thoughts.

2009-04-20T09:53:00.000-07:00

in trying to develop and finesse the next book things get stuck.

PS was heavily influenced by an 80s britpop beat.

it was the time and feeling that the story needed. the aesthetic that seemed to fit the narrative.

but, something different haunts this next project.

gathered tunes that are more current, indy.

a few lyrics catch in my head and play on a loop.

don't leave yourself alone for too many days, sooner than you know you're gonna start slipping...the National- Slipping Husband.

a certain loneliness to it.

then the mind attaches to the new working title.

songs you'll never hear.

thoughts rush around, memories and the way we attach lyrics here and there. how a song can remind you of a time and how sometimes songs stay longer than a person... and open up into a new world of songs that you don't share and life is experienced without the lyric having that subtle meaning between two people.

I think that is the cornerstone of what the next one is going to do.

seems solid enough.

just need to toss it to the characters and see if they want to dance to it.

gathered thought.

2009-04-16T08:02:00.000-07:00

ok.

intense weekend coming up.
not full of anxiety, whatever will be will be...right?

when I wrote Pop Salvation my main goal was just to write it in the first place.

Sure, I hoped it would have a chance of making it into print and being well received but my thoughts on the business end of publishing were pretty modest. I figured it would be great if it ended up with some small press/ indy publisher and an initial print run of 5000 copies or so... a modest success.

well, it did a bit better than that.

and, I'm elated.

a funny thing about me and goals, I push myself pretty hard towards them... but once I hit a goal I always find some way to expand it.

once PS found a home for the initial release I found myself wondering about the ways that initial goal might expand.

and from the business side of it all there are two things that got into my mind. Foreign Rights and Film.

now certainly film would be great, but Foreign Rights seems pretty cool to me. My thoughts on that stem from some of my ideas about voice, resonance and relevance. This notion I have about the life of a book and it's ability to transcend language and culture. A book in translation represents an author well, I think. It means that something you had to say is of interest to other cultures... a postcard of American life.

it is the juncture at which I get a bit humble and start separating myself from the book. The goals shift from personal and I start to have hopes for the book as an entity on its own.

for that entity this weekend could be rather important.

The London Book Fair.

it's the place that titles go to be offered for Foreign Rights and other such continuations.

I never really imagined that part of the equation when I wrote the book.

and now it's here.

so... why mention all of this?

I am a rather strong believer in Creative Visualization.

I think that if in your mind's eye you can see something clearly enough then it can happen.

I also believe there is great power in creative visualization as a collective effort... if a few people can see something clearly enough than it most certainly can happen.

and I'm wondering... if we all can see Pop Salvation crossing over and making it into translation, certainly it will be, right?

so, I humbly ask my friends out there to hold some positive thoughts and "see" the book doing well at the LBF.

fingers crossed!

and, thanks to all.

xoxo. LR

liberstasis...?

2009-03-31T21:40:00.001-07:00

not a word yet. but maybe it should be.

let's break it down a bit, semantic theory-like.

libertine [libərˌtēn]noun1 a person, esp. a man, who behaves without moral principles or a sense of responsibility, esp. in sexual matters.2 a person who rejects accepted opinions in matters of religion; afreethinker.ORIGIN late Middle English (denoting a freed slave or the son of one): from Latin libertinus 'freedman,' from liber 'free.' In the mid 16th cent., imitating French libertin, the term denoted a member of any of various antinomian sects in France; hence sense 2.

stasis [stāsis]noun formal or technicala period or state of inactivity or equilibrium.• Medicine a stoppage of flow of a body fluid.ORIGIN mid 18th cent.: modern Latin, from Greek, literally 'standing, stoppage,' from sta-, base of histanai 'to stand.'-stasis [stasɪs] combining form ( pl. -stases) Physiologyslowing down; stopping : hemostasis.ORIGIN from Greek stasis 'standing, stoppage.'ever since I walked away from one life to chase my dreams and remake the life I now seem to lead I've run into many people who express some degree of admiration or even envy.they seem to think that I'm a fellow traveler on the rogues trail, anti-establishment... against the status quo.they talk a good game about wanting to cut off and disconnect. they pick heros like Thoreau, Kerouac... anyone that has seemed to take to the road and find their dream.Sometimes these aspiring vagabonds even take to the road or the woods themselves, tracing the steps of the icons.but then it all gets muddled.perhaps the adventure and desire for it was based on some fantasy that doing it wasn't/isn't actually work.but, it is.from my experience I will say this:Chasing, then capturing the dream has been the hardest job I've ever had.I'm not certain what all these characters I've met in the past year were expecting. I certainly have my doubts as to whether or not they have what it takes to ever realize what it is they're after.It's all hard work in the end.and this Freedom from society that they all seem so enamored of doesn't really produce anything with endless pontificating and no real work involved.liberstasis- noun [libər-stasɪs] 1.the state of hyper-intellectualized pontification of being a creative spirit free from society or "the man" popularized in the early years of twenty-first century. 2. the natural state of being for the average american slacker.

hmmm...

2009-03-31T09:38:00.001-07:00

things that Pop.

2009-03-27T11:01:00.000-07:00

a long time coming, but the debut has gotten signed off on the final cover, finally.

now I'm just trying to picture what stacks and stacks and stacks of them look like on the shelf...

(and pick out a sharp outfit for the tour.)

separation anxiety.

2009-03-20T12:02:00.001-07:00

one area where I am always thrown off center.
I know that missing those dear to you is a normal part of life.
but, the missing is maddening.

happiness discovered.

2009-02-28T18:23:00.001-08:00

home.

cooking meals together, the two of us.

not held captive by insecurity.

not having the plans we make together highjacked.

working towards our dreams together.

setting our priorities.

happiness together.

I find comfort in hearing you... the sounds of simple tasks.

the knife on the chopping board, dishes clanking in the sink.

I remember that I actually like the kitchen.

I'd grown to hate it, it seemed a constant chore. I avoided it.

always a mess with food I didn't want, couldn't stand or had no choice in dealing with.

then we started spending time there, together. The two of us.

exploring and finding the things to make our life together. The comfort foods we can share, the things we enjoy together.

the best of both of us.

and I find a part of home that I finally found with you.

always work...

2009-02-28T11:22:00.001-08:00

I've noticed a lot of people keep saying stuff about the economy.

It seems to have become a cultural catch-all.

Something that feels a bit like an excuse.

I certainly don't mean that as an insult, sure things are tough all over...

but I do have to wonder what we get to make of everyone running around saying that delayed dreams are the results of a tough economy.

I've been reflecting on the world as it was just two generations back.

My grandparents were all depression era kids.

Somehow they all managed to persevere.

and with far more responsibilities than anyone I know.

They managed to come through dire times and raise larger families essentially on their own.

Maybe it was just a different work ethic? Maybe the expectations were a bit more humble.

Perhaps they just didn't see hardship as enough of a reason to give up.

I just have to wonder...

Dreams seem like they might just be enough to get you through.

excuses? Not so much.

still plenty of work to do. still plenty of dreams to fulfill.

of anger...

2009-02-25T08:47:00.001-08:00

I try to keep life in perspective.

keeping my eye to goals and expectations of myself keeps me pretty busy.

I know that it may seem that I'm pretty tough when it comes to those things alone...

from time to time I let the sense of expectation out past self and come to trust others in my company with it.

not unreasonable, but a presumed sense that those in my company share drive, ethics... something like morality.

goals?

I don't really indulge limits with dreams and goals. Potential is this boundless thing, as far as I see it.

I suppose that I expect those closest to me to just get that.

with failure, I shut down.

I can't stand either waste or excuses.

these two things have no potential for growth in my mind.

they consume, they anchor... they are the anti-potential.

when I move to this place I always feel a momentary lapse in my own momentum...

caught in a place where I feel something like anger... seeing opportunity wasted in front of me offends me. I find myself repulsed by it.

but then I remember that goals and dreams are not met this way. though people at times fall short of my expectations, I still have a lot of work to do. a life to enjoy in the moment, and a great deal more to reveal further down the road. A brief disappointment in the here and now is really little more than a temporary speed bump in the bigger picture.

and the bigger picture looks great.

I'm lucky with the life I have, and more to come.

nothing wasted, no excuses.

and most importantly... no permanence to anger

perspectives.

2009-02-24T09:35:00.001-08:00

sorting through some details.

understanding that there are some things I just don't "get".

what people make of circumstances, and where that comes from.

are you a person that counts your blessings?

recognizes opportunities?

appreciates the world and those in it?

able to see beauty around you and treat it with care and respect?

or are you just along to turn all such things into a free ride?

what can one realistically expect from a free ride anyway?

frustration. scavengering. trivial annoyance.

2009-02-23T07:52:00.001-08:00

advance reading copies of my book are floating around out there.

pretty cool when I consider it as just a part of the whole experience...

but somehow along the way two copies have just gone missing from my house.

was someone after a keepsake? something to remember me by...

an item that while in limited production doesn't actually have a value thanks to a simple statement on the cover that makes clear that the copy is not actually for sale.

I can't even consider it shoplifting, perhaps just the work of a scavenger.

should I be flattered?

who the hell knows.

just a petty annoyance in the middle of an otherwise great time in my life.

and a sharp reminder that ethics and integrity are indeed rare...

plus, now I get to add my name and book title to ebay for alerts or something.

red flags.

2009-02-17T14:08:00.001-08:00

on the whole, I don't get caught up with warnings. especially those about people that come and go in my life.

I prefer my thoughts and opinions to be experiential in nature.

I think it far too easy for some to be misunderstood and such.

for the most part this creates an interesting dynamic in friendships, people don't really know how to act or how to respond.

curious to me; but it's not going to change how I behave and react.

...

vices. plenty of them. it might take a hundred words just to cover my weakness and bad habits.

flaws. 20/20 vision on those too.

but virtues? I don't think you can ever really know on your own. You never have the right perspective to see those. Now and then you come across people who feel compelled to tell you things that sound like they are trying to convince you of their virtues. the realm of:

I mean well.

I'm a good person.

I'm this that and the other...

most of the good people I've known in life never had to say it.

people that mean well usually find a way to do well instead of having to tell you what they mean.

...

we're all works in progress.

that's just life.

I need to work out how it is I allocate trust.

live and learn a bit better.

spectators. sprinters. life.

2009-02-13T13:07:00.001-08:00

I was looking back over some old journal entries this morning. the years and experiences that have brought me here, to this day to day life that seems to most certainly be mine.

it's all had a series of rolling challenges and obstacles along the way, it still does. it is a life.

but, I noticed in the details that I'm not really a runner.

I don't think I really understand the runner's mind.

yes, life deals you problems and such, but escape isn't really the option at all.

not to go all new aged with anyone but the truth to it all really seems to be,

"wherever you go, there you are"

or more to the point... where are you to run if the problem you need to face is you?

a part of our civil experiment with each other is to attempt facing each other as the most fully realized self we are capable of...

what are we to expect if we can't face that?

just sorting thoughts out loud...

life.

discordant.

2009-02-12T15:43:00.001-08:00

doing time.
I tend to be a pretty focused person. there are the things I want, the things I value and a series of things I expect of myself.
with the focus and expectations I lack much patience. I don't really see much point in passing your time with this notion that things will get better and you'll go after your dreams someday… I don't have time for that. Dreams need to be lived and chased with every moment that the clock ticks…
it's funny that at this very moment my life has a moderate schedule of somedays… I guess they are the kind that I can at the very least tolerate. They are certain somedays and not these vague ones that could be mistaken for maybes. The book is being published, there will be a book tour at which point I'll hit the road for a week or two then settle back into a nice life back at home with my partner and I'll work on the next book… and ultimately these somedays are within the timeline of six months. all acceptable and well scheduled. Those I can face and deal with just fine.
then there are the daydreamy somedays, good thoughts, ideas and goals that I have for myself, my partner and the life we are actively working on building together. The two of us in a better life.
the point of frustration being that somewhere along the way is some kind of leap. I don't fear the leap from one to the other, not at all. I know that I'm more than ready to live this better life that we dream of, but… sometimes life puts you in a place where you just have to wait patiently… understanding well enough when it's best to leap.
again, a challenge to my patience and a situation that feels a lot like "someday".
it makes the day to day waiting for the right time feel a bit like serving a sentence of some kind.

build.

2009-01-01T13:08:00.001-08:00

perhaps it hasn't been a rough spell at all. Maybe it's just being me.

the whole thing has been a strange ride. this side show carnival that
seems to have become lanceland. various and assorted characters,
experiences and thrills. all of it I find some beauty in. the flaws
and weakness that reveal beauty to me.

I can accept that none of this may ever get easier to do. If it was I
might not be able to see the beauty in it. But certainly it can get
happier. There should be that. I hope and dream of that. Everything
wagered for some of those kind of moments.

a new.

2008-12-31T19:33:00.001-08:00

a new.
2008 was a rather long year for me.
it marked my first full year without my dad around.
I spent a good eight months of it working on the revisions of my first published novel. (that was an intense spell)
I said some intense goodbyes, and made a few new friends that have become dear to me.
It has been the year that pushed me in ways I would have never imagined.
a rough year, a lonely year… but one that has me looking forward to the coming year.
you see, each and every day of the past year has challenged me and tested my resolve. I’ve found myself sad and doubting more than ever… wondering how much more I had to get through… but somehow I got through it.
there must be a reason or a purpose.
but there is no crystal ball.
Sure, there is still a bit to get through. Last time I glanced at the counter there are 172 days until the official release date for my debut novel. Certainly, that book will start its life before that date. In the next months it will be sent along to all the places it needs to go to get reviews and feedback. It might visit a few more bookfairs and get shopped around a bit for foreign language rights and film rights and all that crazy stuff I don’t think I ever imagined for it or myself… really, who actually ever thinks that they will ever see their name and film rights all spelled out on the same page… still bizarre to me.
but, even with all of that… the book is all grown up and most of the steps that come next have more to do with the book having a life of its own. Sure, I’ll be there to hold its hand and scribble happy salutations on the opening pages once the tour is underway, but… The book is moving along to having a life without me. What a relief.
and me?
I’ve got at least 172 days to keep myself busy, entertained and out of trouble.
I’ve started work on the next book. Good work, and the story that seems to be building there is doing a pretty good job of consuming me these days.
I know that 2009 is going to be an amazing year for me.
I hope it’s equally amazing for each and every one of you.
all my best, all my heart.

xoxo. LR

(a little DCFC)

to go.

2008-12-30T11:51:00.001-08:00

how does one find a place that may not actually exist.

this notion of home, a place I keep trying to get onto the page.

so clearly I can see it, and all the things it feels like.

rooms filled with laughter, art, tears and music.

intimate moments where entire histories are spoken with something so
simple as a hand reaching over to push hair away from a brow. to look
clearly into kind eyes.

if the image emerges and has any meaning at all that place must... has
to exist somewhere.

but where?

dark rooms.

2008-12-29T13:14:00.001-08:00

Bringing the elements together. The black painted walls and
furnishings. The softest strains of jazz fill the air. Her scarf hangs
on the coatrack. Magazines on the kitchen table. Espresso made on the
stove with the old fashioned pot. Beautiful meals and conversations
served on white porcelain dinnerware. Everything a meticulous study of
the sharp contrast and timelessness. Great style surrounds. Everything
about the building is an era frozen. Timeless. A sanctuary from the
world. A place of education and great growth. A museum for the
brightest and best colors of all those that pass into it, as though
they have walked into a painting. Lessons learned that will carry them
to be the best they can be.

A safe place to live for the next months.

tell me a story.

2008-12-28T14:04:00.000-08:00

working with my own stories, people tend to leave the talking to me.

but, I love the simplest, honest heartfelt stories of others.

so, I want to try a little experiment.

give yourself 5 minutes (or ten if you need that) and tell me a story. Use the camera on your computer or go crazy with a slideshow and spoken word...

confess something, apologize for something, tell me of your first feeling of true love or your first dog...

anything really, just tell.

and you can post them to the PopSalvation2009 page over at YouTube or even email them to me at popsalvation09@gmail.com

have fun with it, I can't wait to see what stories you have for me.

vanishing, Part 2.

2008-12-27T10:28:00.001-08:00

I feel that I can't communicate.
I want to share the things I see with the people I love. I want them
to understand and see me.

Sometimes I make these connections and have someone there to share my
dreams.

once, I had it in the most perfect form. Better than all the wildest
dreams.

but, I guess I became just too much. I think this one saw beauty,
courage and light in me. But it was just too much. Perhaps the one
didn't trust themself with the responsibility of being the one.

I was too much.

the heartbreak of that relationship devastated me. If heartbreak can
kill you, certainly that one almost did. There are times when I think
it may yet. When I run the "what if" scenario through my head and
heart I'm still sad. We've tried to talk, but it seems we both always
feel lost in translation with the things we say to each other. They
think they can never say the right things to me, and I always seem to
say the wrong things to them. I stumble and stagger because my heart
has trouble reconciling what was once perfect being something that has
become so difficult for the two of us to navigate.

I want us to be friends, I want us to be a family again.

I know in my heart that we might be together again, somehow, someday
and maybe.

I think I say the wrong things because of this. I make the one I love
feel pressured to say or do things that compliment this feeling.

but, I think they miss the point.

while I have those hopes and dreams I also carry hopes and dreams for
their happiness. I just want them to be secure with themself. and happy.

the beauty, courage and light that was seen in me is the same kind of
beauty, courage and light I always saw. I fear and know that this one
won't, can't see that.

and, anytime I try to say it, find the words, I feel like they just
can't hear me. Doesn't believe me. or worse yet, thinks I just say
these things to persuade them back into the relationship.

and it makes every word feel like a failure.

but it isn't even about that anymore.

it's about believing in someone as something bigger than everything
else.

I guess it's about love.

vanishing.

2008-12-27T08:40:00.000-08:00

most of my life I’ve felt that I either wasn’t seen or wasn’t wanted.
then that shifted into a feeling of never being able to meet expectations.

get good grades, make good art, dress the right way, comb your hair, use the right fork, say please, thank you, hold the door open... the list goes on and on.

no matter what efforts I gave, nothing about me ever seemed good enough.

all along all I’ve ever wanted is to be seen and accepted.

the best efforts and I’m still terrified that I will disappoint someone, everyone...myself.

I don’t know how to be anyone but me. I’ve tried so many times to change, to reinvent, reemerge...
but, it’s always going to be me. tedious. demanding. fragile hearted. and terrified of not being good enough, talented enough, quiet enough, tall enough, smart enough...

disappointment makes me wish I could just vanish.

vidblog.

2008-12-23T14:28:00.000-08:00

does this make me a "taste-maker"??

2008-12-22T11:06:00.000-08:00

NYR at The Olive Reader.

limitations.

2008-12-21T17:53:00.000-08:00

the past year has been one of the most powerful years for me. A time where I feel like I've finally gotten a strong sense of myself. My purpose. Perhaps even my place in the bigger picture. I've gained a great deal of confidence as a writer.
I made a break from all the comforts that had me anchored. I set myself out here in a new city without any real connections, determined to make it as a writer.

For the most part that has been working out rather well.

my thoughts, ideas and world view come to me in quiet spaces. usually the sublime space after it starts to get dark.
nothing is a greater luxury to me than a sleeping house. the dark quiet of winter with its long nights making the best time for me to write.

I actually like my quiet introspective self.
Something I think I’ve been learning to appreciate over the past months.

sure, I do feel a kind of loneliness at times.

but, living in a shared household has been an interesting thing. company and companionship are entirely different beasts for me. Companionship I crave.
Company? Not so much.

I tend to be aesthetically and socially rather self-contained.

from the time I was seventeen I’ve wandered and lived in all kinds of situations but was always more of a loner.

I had a strong sense of what felt like home. The subtle qualities needed for me to belong somewhere. I've found that sense on a dozen avenues around the world, in hotel rooms here and there, the sublime eye contact over a shared lunch, a visit to an art museum or a great music venue. For me home is a sense of comfort...certainly improved by companions that are capable of just letting you live in your own skin. Very few moments that I'd say I've actually felt it.

I’ve lived with a single roommate, a few lovers/partners, a wife... always intimate situations that left me with the space to be the loner. As though they were part of some rare list that understood me.

understood that on an almost elemental level in order for me to thrive and have anything to offer that I need silence.

somehow I'm miles from that now.

and I fear it is making me crazy.

I don't like the feelings it's bringing forth...

the feelings I had at 17.

this desperate desire to run away, far far away...

because that place, that silent world, is so much better to me than this place that is making me feel trapped.

I hate that trapped feeling. Nothing grows or shines from that place. I can't think clearly enough to write. all I hear is clatter. I stop letting people in because I don't want to add to the already deafening chorus of voices that distract me from being me.

and, I get angry...

so very angry.

angry that circumstances are making me feel less the person I've worked so hard to become.

I dunno, something has to give, before I snap.

snow.

2008-12-20T09:13:00.000-08:00

after what seems a solid week of communal panic and dire warnings by all the regional media, I finally wake up to something that actually looks to my eyes like snow.

Certainly not the Ice Palaces of my childhood back east, or the winter wonderland of Colorado... and downright laughable by Canadian standards.

But, I find myself gazing out the windows sighing with a sense of relief. After a week of hype it finally looks a bit like real snow to me.

not even deep enough for angels, sleds or a decent snowball.

But hey...if the locals wanna call it snow...then I guess it's here.

winter.

2008-12-19T23:21:00.000-08:00

winter is a peculiar time for me.
on the one hand it is my favorite time of year.
nights are longer with a great type of darkness that seems to enhance contrast. home becomes a place of safety and warmth. someplace you sequester yourself drinking strong coffee, wearing the favorite pair of jeans and a cozy sweater with the warmest of blankets layered across your lap.

I also tend to travel during winter, I love going places and actually being the only "tourist" there.

Paris and Madrid are my two favorite winter trips. Love them both.

I let my guard down and let people get a bit closer to me.
I tend to be more open to intimate relationships in the winter.

and winter also carries some of the roughest memories for me.

my dad had an accident one winter and died of a heart attack the following winter.

that part of the season just always sucks. a span of time that runs from the beginning of December all the way through February.

I keep wondering; am I ever going to find a way to reconcile this season? What is it that will strike the balance?

Most of the time I just don't really know.

but, I sense that I'll get it right one of these days...

just not sure how or when.

destinations and distances.

2008-12-15T11:34:00.000-08:00

a friend recently sent me a message. four simple words.

hey brother. long road.

yes, indeed.

and longer still.

I find myself breaking my future down into blocks of time that my mind can handle. 90 days at a time. right now that seems reasonable to me.

certainly there are still things that I don't know and can't control. fortunes and failures that could pop up at any time. but, the next 90 days... it's just a matter of keeping some momentum through them. and then another 90 days... well, by the time I make it through that it'll be time to hit the road for the book. the long road takes to the road.

90.

then we'll see.