I hate winter. I didn't use to. When I was a little kid I loved to play in the snow but I still remember the fun feeling never lasted. Eventually, the snow would soak my gloves, pants, get into my shoes and soak my socks... then the cold would really set in and even though really wanted to stay out and play more, the fact I was freezing to death slowly usually drove me back inside where the cold spots on my body would then suddenly start itching like crazy, driving me crazy.
I hate winter. Now that I'm older, the luster of living in the frozen tundra and white winter wonderland visions have long since been replaced with the stark, cold, reality... and I do mean COLD reality. Spent a winter in Chicago once... damn near froze my lungs it was so cold. Spent a winter in Florida once. Went swimming regularly out on the beach. Wouldn't mind going back to Florida. You couldn't pay me enough money to go back to Chicago. And I lived the city too. Was a lot of fun... when it wasn't frozen solid.
I hate winter. Spent the day out cutting and splitting wood so I wouldn't freeze to death in the coming days. Damn near froze to death doing that. Knuckles are cracked and chipped, shoulder is about dead, back aches, toes still itching from the cold. And I got work to do tonight (and tomorrow night). I'm not alone in my feelings about the cold. My oldest cat lays in front of the fireplace when it's going and that's inside a warm house. The rest of the cats hang out nearby, basking in the heat. They are not fans either. C'mon summer. Hurry up dammit.

I was havin a good time... jammin with a few friends... getting plenty buzzed... watchin the clock along with the rest as time inexorably winded down on 2018. Five... four... three... two... one... ZERO.
One... two... three... four... five... Did I take a breath between years? Did I have time? How much time is left? Can anyone still see last year in the rear view mirror? =^o.O^=
There's no brakes on this ride. Like the Energizer bunny it just keeps goin and goin and goin.... Krikey. Already I can feel time slipin' , slipin' , slippin' into the future. Are you reelin' in the years?
One fluid motion... one year ends and another begins and the time between the one and the other is always the same. Faster than a blink. Sooner than you think. I need another drink. Pass me that spliff because I need to try and slow this fucker down somehow.
They say you need to stop and smell the roses but you can't because it never stops. Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick. Like 60 Minutes but it's perpetual. Never ending. Relentless. Time and a word. Time outa mind. Too much time on my hands. Time to go.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keslrXmghyc

... and the year gets shorter. The leaves on the trees change colors and, one by one, fall their final breath spent onto the ground. Food for tomorrow's trees. Days go by... and the last elder's life grows shorter with each breath. Mom is all that remains. All grandparents long since lived their last winters days. Father left not long ago. Cancer is an evil beast... relentless... ruthless... unstoppable. His days went faster and faster. The doc's were wrong... the season came much quicker than the expected. In the end, thankful for that. Sometimes time is a friend. Days go by... I see the clock clearly now and each tick is louder and louder. Her breath is shorter. Her time awake now matching her time asleep. Soon one shall pass the other. One day soon there will be no waking. Days go by... counting them is fruitless... predicting them is pointless... living them is all that remains and is all that is important. I have now. Beyond that... days go by.

Today was one of 'those' days. On the news was a sad story about a family who's father went off to work and came home to find his house burned to a empty shell, his kids (5 total... 3 his) dead, and his wife in critical condition with 3rd degree burns. Everything he owned... worked for... loved... gone in the blink of an eye. Later that day, as I was cooking up some dinner... suddenly the bit of bacon grease I was heating must've gotten a drop of water or something in it. I heard the pop... then felt the burning pain in my left eye. So close... I got SO lucky... my reflexes must still be lightning Hopkins fast because the damage was minimal. I'll be a one-eyed bandit for a little while but I'll heal and there'll be no lasting damage. But it was damn close.
So, I sit here typing this out (with my one good eye) because all this made me think about how quickly things can change in the blink of an eye. Sometimes we take for granted the world around us... those that love us... our enemies... friends... jobs... futures... everything that we enjoy (or despise) every minute of every day. Tomorrow I think I'll take time to hug a friend... call a family member and talk... try to make peace with an enemy... before they're gone... or I'm gone... in the blink... of an eye.

It ended without fanfare on an unusually cool July night. Having spent the day keeping vigil with his companions, Deogy and Molly, Scout returned back to his home and greeted his human with a wag of his tail and a few doggy licks. An old dog of many veteran patrols of his land, he seemed tired and decided to skip his dinner which was unusual from his normal routine. I chalked it up to having gotten through several brutal weeks of intense heat and humidity and his age. I figured he'd eat later once he had rested. He curled up on the cool tile floor to do just that... rest for a while. An hour later he was gone.
He was surly at times and liked to speak in growl rather than bark. He had a few 'phobias' that, with a LOT of work, he learned to handle better than when he first arrived as a pup... the worst of which was being 'handled'. Trying to get a look at a stone bruise on one of his paws was a challenge for some time. Combing his extra thick fur out every summer was a small war for years. But, eventually, he came to trust me and allow this intrusion into his world with but small vocal gripes and grouses now and then. He was smart and brave and a damn good friend. I am going to miss him so much. Rest my friend. Rest in peace.

Up in the Dakota plains, many of my people are taking a stand against the government... against senseless greed... all in the name of the almighty dollar who shall grace the world of but a small few that already have more money than any of us shall ever know... nor need. And it is not just the Indian Nations who are in peril. Once that pipeline breaks and the tar-sand oil spills millions of gallons into the mighty river, there shall be no fixing this damage in our lifetimes... perhaps the lifetimes of our children as well. If the second pipeline explosion in Georgia doesn't make us pause and think about this, then I feel there is no hope for mankind. There comes a time when we become numb and stupid to the devastation, death, greed, and corruption of the world around us. When we cease to care... we cease to be. Tonight I shall wear the warpaint and dance to Great Grandfather and implore upon the world to come to it's senses before it reaches the point when it becomes too late. Too late to stop what we've begun. Too late to save ourselves from ourselves.

I suspect some people here played D&D. Before the invention of home based video games and cell phones and much more, some geeks with a purpose created Dungeons & Dragons. I immediately ran out and bought everything in print, of course, and found myself surrounded by a world of people that had NO idea what I had. Oh fun. I finally managed to connect with like minded people and we enjoyed ourselves immensely all the while TV and print began to post about how D&D was the 'Devils toy' to lure us innocent people into debauchery and decadence (what? I enjoyed some of it!). I dunno about no 'Devil's toy' but the people I have shared this joy with over the many years and the friendships and bonds formed... the new ideas and new avenues it opened for me... I got more than my moneys worth. Much more. So here's to you, D&D... something simple to enjoy and enrich a life with and the friends and family I have from such enjoyment. Much love.

Fear vs. Rationality. One of the most epic fights of this or any century. Fear is when some alien being from another world (in my case it was a possum in a tree around midnight) suddenly drops down in front of you causing you to run the 40-yard dash in 1.5 seconds and leave a trail of urine along the way. Rationality is that gentle giant that allows you to make quick and intelligent decisions and avoid getting thrown from the canoe when it slams into a tree and begins to roll under (needless to say I saved the canoe and didn't even get wet). We witness the war from within... and from without as those around us succumb to their fears. There's nothing wrong with a good healthy scare. It's one very sure fire way to check the adrenaline system and make sure it's there when you need it most (gotta escape those alien possums!!!). But unfounded fears can also be quite unhealthy and when we let those fears rule us and our actions... then we lose the war of our own humanity. To my friends in the UK and in the EU. I hope you find rationality in the face of fear. Not anger... nor fear itself. Hugs from those of us that believe in rationality.

So you have an idea about it. Thoughts you believe in... things you expect to feel and see and experience. A preconceived conception of what it's all about. Say hello to left field. It's not where you thought you'd be. It's not even who you thought it'd be even if it is. Under the skin lies the layers of complexity that make us who we are and, not surprisingly, things even we didn't know about ourselves. So how can anyone possibly know that it is... what it's supposed to be... what you expect to find? It comes, it goes, it comes back again and again... sometimes even with the same person. It frustrates and confuses... amazes and amuses... and always baffles scholars, saints, and even us 'normals'. Books have been written about it... movies made... songs sung... poems composed... prose... verse... and everything in between. Perhaps J. Geils is right. Love stinks. :confused:

Yogi Berra once said 'It's Deja`vu all over again.' Like many of his vocalized thoughts, I completely understood it and it still applies. When it comes to music, it's pretty hard not to create something that someone else has already created before. I mean, there's only so many chords available... so many beat variables... chord progressions.... sigh. We've been making music since the first man (or woman) picked up a stick and whacked a hollow log. That's a lot of music. As for my situation, I've been stuck on a series of chords for some time now. I've played them to death in so many different ways... but it's still the same chords and you can only disguise something in so many ways or so many times. It's not like I don't know other chords... just that I'm stuck on these few. It does beg the question just how many different ways can you paint a picture with only 1 color? I suspect that, should I remain stuck here, I will find out. I'd rather not. Life needs some mystery otherwise it's really boring.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he turns and meows pitifully. Ain't my fault you wrecked yourself, stitches in you back... stitches in your paw as well. In his mind, all he knows is it's nice outside and there isn't any snow. Mice are in the leaves, squirrels in the trees, birds on the breeze, and here I sit inside. I wish I spoke cat for I'd let him know, he'll be okay soon and out he'll go. For now he simply bounces off the walls, the couch, the door, the bed, and the halls. Cabin fever kitty. :(

Party in the house... me and Mr. Mouse, several cats, and one confused dog. It's another notch in the belt of time as I chase death down. One day I'll catch it and it'll surely be the death of me. It's been called a rat race but then rats would leave a sinking ship so I seriously doubt they'd be all giddy about such an endeavor. I think lemmings would enjoy it though. So many seek to avoid the inevitable... others stupidly cut short the chase. Life... it's one helluva ride and worth hangin on for the whole thing. Besides... I have it on good authority that the next ride is even better. So party on people and furies... grab yer gear and lets go death huntin. Bring a friend... it's a hoot.

With bluster we face all things we cannot face without it. False bravado worn like a cloak against the cold winds of reality. Sometimes it amuses me how human we try hard not to be as the selves that we are despite ourselves. I walk my own path and yet I see footprints in the ground beneath my own. Have I walked this way before and am merely going in circles or am I stalking my own ghost in the smoke? I rock my soul to the beat of my heart and don't care really about all the wind and smoke about me for I need not see where I am to know where I am going. Come. Let us be on our way to the real and let those afraid of same chase their own ghosts.

Boom. With a Madden-like explosion doth color come raining outward from places whence green once ruled the day. Boom. A love hate relationship do I have with the latter days of the year for I am not one of cold loving and, while beautiful yet fleeting the color may be, it still heralds the future white I loath and despise. Boom. Like fireworks it comes... short in life and bold in it's moment. Boom. Don't blink for it's gone before you notice. Boom. Time stops never and ticks away perpetually at you until it's past... it could care less if you care at all. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

My heart aches from the void left by the absence. Even knowing time wins all wars does not mollify me in mind, body, and soul. All know this day comes for all things and all beings but when it's so close to the heart, it cannot help but do collateral damage. Such is the end of a life that means so much to those whose hearts they become close to. Collateral damage. I remain while the soul that bound me to itself... and itself to me... departs. Tomorrow the sun shall shine for the world outside. For my world, inside, it shall remain dark for some time. For however long it takes for the black clouds of grief to dispel... for the wounds born of collateral damage heal... for the passage of time to continue onward relentlessly. And, for that time, I shall know absence.

(In Memory of Yogi Berra... kindred spirit.)

It dies without a sound... almost as if someone repaints a house or car and, by such magic, changes subtlety. Yesterday was swimming pools and children playing... today it's bus stops and leaves falling. There was no warning shot across the bow... no public service announcement... no funeral. A quiet reminder that life is short and time is relentless in it's pursuit of it's own tail... as if it were an animal in such a permanent endeavor... each paw a season, changing places in a never ending dance. No wonder I am dizzy. A toast... to the third paw in a turn... to the silent passing of another season... to the uncaring world upon which time ignores just as easily as the world ignores time. May I have the next dance?

Sitting in the night, awaiting the coming storm. Seems to be a lot lately. Rain fills the gauges, the rivers, the streams, the ponds, the lakes. R.E.M. plays in the background… Man On The Moon. Troubles pile up like rocks in a wall in the yard. One by one it grows to someday be something useful while the troubles just beat one down like rain. Rain will grow the garden… food to eat… food for thought. Troubles pour out as if from a cauldron on high and grows my sorrow and weariness. It’s been a long fight. I’m not a kid anymore. I wish I knew what quit was… I would… if I could. Tomorrow comes. And with it, the rain… and the troubles. I know both will have the last laugh on me someday. I find that funny. I laugh at the rain… the troubles… I’m tired.

Curiosity begs in it's asking of us each... our past and present colliding in our minds continually. Sit you now seeking more than you already have in learned life yet so far lived? There is no age at which scholars surrender to time's passing and no longer seek fulfillment beyond measure. Pass we all to each another that which is us, learned, thought, and imagined. The child teaches the father... the mother to the daughter... student to teacher... poet or preacher. How stupidly we seek to bind ourselves into boxes... to catalogue each other, dragging... invariably... ourselves, along this journey of definement. For we fear when confronted with a lack of labels. Such silly creatures we are. I find peace in acceptance... even when it is that which I know nothing of. Call it faith. So think a while and care not where it leads you. Some journeys take no physical steps and yet travel farther than light itself. Perhaps this is what it means to be enlightened.
Faith. Hope. Love.
Theo.

Yes, this is late to the party. I started this 3 days after the killings in France of fellow artists. Much of what I originally wrote shall never see the light of day. Angry words from an angry heart have never solved anything at all, nor made anything better. Why, you might ask, is it even important to me? It took me some time to figure that out myself. I never personally met any of the cartoonists... nor their families, friends... anyone connected. I didn't grow up with them... they never lived next door nor went to school with me. But they might as well have been any of those things for they were... are... me. Perhaps I share with some of you here the path it took to reach this point in our lives. I grew up a lover of cartoons as a kid... then comic books as I grew older... and, finally, graphic art. I'm not extremely talented at the 'art' part of all this but I do draw decent cartoons.
I suspect that is how those at Charlie got their start as well. I can almost see them hunched over their notebooks, artbooks, or any writing material... pen or pencil in hand... little mini-me's. Now I understand why I felt so much pain and anger... not my usual faire. At first, I wrote angry and hateful... then poured my pain onto the pages... and now, finally... I can breathe again... so I write from a cleared mind and a healed heart.
Tomorrow I will wake up and continue my life without pause. Not because what happened wasn't important... or that it should be trivialized... or marginalized... but because they will not win. This 'war' that they wage against those who simply do not believe as they do... who simply do not desire to live as they want to... against those of us who who shall draw cartoons about that which they find funny, disgusting, stupid, inhuman. They will not win simply because they have failed in the greatest, yet simplest of things... the art of being human.
We are not colors... genders... beliefs... or countries. We are Human. All kin... blood tied and forever bonded to each other. All living in the same place... earth. All related to each other... dependent on each other. Forever entwined are our fates. Those that fail to know and understand that shall always lose. Lose their way... their family... their humanity... themselves. I/you/we are all human. One species... one people... one destiny. Our country is called Earth. It is all we have. We're alone, as best as we know, on a universal ocean so vast that, should we need help, there is nobody to call. We're on our own.
I feel a little sad for those that haven't yet figured this out... who feel some terrible need to attempt to kill off everyone else for such stupid reasons as skin colors, gender, beliefs, or the flag they find themselves under. Because there are far more of those of us that DO understand what it is to truly be 'human'... than there are of those who do not. It is a war they will not win.

Peace brothers and sisters.