Push the rock and pull the weed

 To live life is to take one step at a time or a series of jumps, a series of forward actions. Whatever works to live one's authentic life. Actions speak loudest. In this era what may be necessary to move forward is all the above. A full court press, side shuffle and precise push. What may be necessary is the agility of the mind and body. Forward thought, forward action. Peripheral vision. The acknowldgement of the need for change. The desire or better still, the fire in the gut. 

To move forward in this era of regression, of mental backsliding is a matter of going beyond words. Yes words have meaning, they speak to who we are, our genetics and cultures, but it is the physicality of doing that builds the bridge and digs the trench. Paves the road. 

It is the doing or making that solidifies intent and thought. Emotion reaches its peak by way of the hand. Love turns to fire by touch, trust by a handshake and structures topple with a push.  No longer is the usual rhetoric suficing in general, therefore what is required is personal reflection and outward gesture. The relationship with the individual to the community. What is necessary is the push and the pull. To force the hand of time by pushing back what keeps us in the muck and perpetuates  our current spiral down.  And to pull, from the depths of our desires what will propel the spiral up. To frankly halt our current government, all our government and reshape it for what it's made for. For the people, by the people. 

Lets not mince words here, if you can read this you know how life works. How government works or should work. You and I both know this isn't working. By this I mean government and life. They go hand in hand, affecting each other. A necessary relationship as to be human is to be governed. But at this point we need a marker of change. A place holder. Something. An action that holds up and redirects this backward slide. This stagnated air. Blinding wind. 

What we need, as Martin Luther King, Jr. said is peaceful demonstrations. United in our multifaceted wants and needs. To acknowledge our dream. To acknowledge we have a dream. We, have a dream. Every thought, every gesture, every stand tall and be loud moves us. Moves us emotionally and physically. This is our capability. This then, is our everyday marker. Our notch in time. 

Moving forward is a coming together of the like minded. Not same minded, but a mutual understanding  of the need for change. A change for all, eventually, someday, maybe. It is an understanding that to affect the future is to affect our today. To till the soil, sow the seed, push the rock and pull the weed. 

CB 02/17/18




I am increasingly interested in language, both visual and written. How these arenas can inspire our everyday. It is language that binds a culture and helps to solidify a belief system, a way of self governing both in the individual and the collective. 

 Visual language is our first step to understanding the world, how we process information.  As we take in the visual landscape and digest its stimuli we then interpret it through words, personally deciphering and editing according to how we see and understand our reality. This process runs through the mind and gut, emotion and intellect. Emotion is key here, it is what transports information forward into a bigger picture, into inspiration and action. Igniting the cannon of time.

It is not through rules and regulations that we live our best lives and reach our potential. Though necessary to counter our fallibilities, It is through understanding our innate selves that we best navigate, weaving through time and experience. Emotion and fact. It is through our connection of self and language that we piece together and connect the dots, creating meaning while vacillating desire, wants and needs. The manifestation of life well lived, life affected. 

The languages of the self activate an inner expansion, an explosion of who we are as matter and ethereal emotion. They affect our cells and frontal cortex, eliciting forward thinking  and evoking introspection. Binding together the outside, inside. What we see and then feel. This is how change occurs. How fears are faced and how politics are tweaked as growing buds. It is through language that possibility is born, from which emotion becomes physical. It is not fully through fact that life moves forward, it is through the culmination of all things human that pulls us and drives us to create. It is first and foremost the emotion of language that catapults our need to understand and counter. To smooth the wrinkles and settle the vibrations. To then take the streets, build the signs and defend our humanity. 

CB 02/07/18



Steady Wins The Race

It's not the goal, it's the journey. Steady wins the race. These days I yearn for steady and continue to chase a seemingly elusive goal. A goal of fog and mirror. Minefields of wants and needs. It's not that I do not have goals, I have them and confront them daily with determination. It's just that my goals are of the heart. Emotion before fact. My goals are lofty, they float over the horizon. Taunt and plead. Of ego and fear. 

I have a romantic default setting that steers my desires. Counters my rational fact-needing self. That trips me up, picks me up and dusts me off. Self be damned, I live for this. For me, this is what life is, this is what goals are made of. The golden grail. The end all, be all. 

Life for me is beyond myself. As life is huge. Or seems as such from my perspective. Speck amongst the stars. Boy Scout in the woods. Determined survivalist. 

There is a bigger picture here. Albeit blurred, I know its outlines as I envision it daily. Create it in my dreams and write it down in words. Its shine is familiar enough to find in the dark, warm enough to desire it and far enough to frustrate. But steady wins the race no matter how unclear the path. Or so it seems. So they say. 

If I were to define my goal, I'd pin it to the future positive. Vague as it may be, this is what I call it. How I paint it in my mind and trace it in my everyday. This is my goal and my journey. My steady race, push and pull. 

This is what I live for. My breath in frozen air, seeing what I feel. Being led by emotion, pulled by determination and fed by facts. This is my living. Mine to rescue and to give. To write it down, build it up and paint it. To set it forward, floating above the horizon line. 

CB 02/02/18



It has been my intention for some time now to build a life of meaning. Not one of happiness as happiness is fleeting. Meaning has weight. It is in the truest sense, sustainable. What moves the ebb and flow and nudges chaos back to its order.

I believe meaning to be the objects that surround us. The house that becomes a home and the hello that turns to love. It is without doubt the mountains we scale, the fear we push through and the whispers we speak in the ending of our day. Meaning is where words cannot fully go. The abyss of the gut. 

I can say with all honesty I do not know where my path leads. These words as I write them are my spectacles. My bobsled and pack mule. I can say with all honesty that my life lacks. Time has a way of taking. But I too can say with conviction that my determination is what drives my meaning. It is what finds the gaps needing to be filled and then pushes and pulls, giving meaning its room to breathe and sow its seeds. 

In this time of uncertainty, of so much bad emotion, meaning is our life vest. My parachute as I glide and fall knowing eventually I will land. Knowing my course will avail itself and meaning will become my map. That meaning will become our map as time clears the brush for future viewing. Future building. 

CB 01/28/18

This Is My Desire

I feel as if I grapple with all that I do. What I have to offer this world. I am consumed by the weight of our current times. Our two stepping approach to the future. I know that design cannot save the world and beauty is simply a pillow on the path of the weary. So what is my resolve and how do I perpetuate my active determination. My need to facilitate the future positive. 

Thoreau once wrote, "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." Perhaps it's my approach to the problem. My instinct to push. Unaware of what I am not seeing and blinded by my own determined path digging.  My compass fixation and overreaching desires. It could be then a matter of easing up on the reigns. Allowing that I may not know where it's all heading. Where I am heading and being fine with that. Or at least ok..ish. 

There is one thing I know for sure. I know who I am. I live here. What I have to offer may not put a dent into this world but I am determined to scratch the surface. Make my mark. Give, not because I have been given but because this is my desire. This is my composition. My all, outward. The determination of one who does not have the answers but lives for possibility. Lives for the bloom of beauty. The bloom of inspiration. 


CB 01/26/18