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..and they always will, the tones are now more subtle than the first day, but then the whole takes on a new character of beauty, of age and time and too much sunlight.  Then, it's gone.  It will always be this way.  
And that's nice.  

I believe the greatest qualities of being Human are Compassion and Forgiveness.  Oh, and a Sense of Humor.  I'm in the news business.  Years ago I watched a woman vomit on my shoes as she randomly leaned over in front of me and cried and cried and screamed and threw up and cried some more (You know, all those things one does when their life is vaporizing before one's eyes) and I gazed at her family's home as it burned to the ground 200 hundred feet away. I was only there as a reporter, but you seldom get the luxury of just "being there".   This incredibly overwhelmed woman continued her outpouring and then I picked her up a bit (not heroically, just very awkwardly) and then She Hugged Me.  She said (and I will never forget), "I'm so sorry for throwing up on you."  I nonchalantly replied, "The chief will certainly hose off my shoes just as soon as they get all the fires put out."  She surprisingly chuckled, and then at that very moment a fireman walked up with their kitten, the only other living thing that was of concern at the time, as all the family of three had now escaped the very total destruction of non-living things.  All material things they knew at this juncture in their life were gone. This women had been in terror, vomiting and crying.  And now, she was Happy.  Her significant other and their tiny little charge were saved. Life is contrasts, and All endings aren't Happy.  I know. But most endings are a comma, on the way to another beginning, and then more commas, periods, tears, laughter and the very real opportunity to be there.  To be Here, and alive, in a million colors or black and white.  Hugs sometime come with snot and vomit and flames and kittens, tears and wishes, and our strength in how we Love in the smallest ways.  Or so it seems.  I always ramble, but anyone reading me do so...I am grateful.  Peace and Thank You :)  

"There are millions of eyes watching the world tonight.  10 million saviors.  10 million Angels of Man.  The Healer is not alone."  -Todd Rundgren, "Shine"
I jot down a little here, as I think out loud.  I have more than a few times expressed to friends individually how they "make me want to be a better person", and it is so true.  I have lived most of my life enjoying the warmth and light from others as it is shown upon me.  It is a joy, and at times, an addiction. What has made me "better" is the learning of how to not only absorb that "light", but to reflect it, even shine my own.  I try.  I think many of us do.  Some would simply name it "inspiration", and very accurately, I believe.  Ripples from one source generate others, and so forth.  I am grateful for that, being in a pond that has such positive movement at times.  That Pond would be the collective of many of You, and I am so glad to have the associations of each of you here.  Thanks so much.  It is heartfelt.

-Mike

Cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor I of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! if you can raed tihs rpsoet it.


OLNY PUT THIS ON YOUR PRILOFE IF YOU CAN RAED TIHS. CNAHGE THE NMUERBR AT TOP TGOHUH, "ONLY __ POELPE ON DA CAN RAED TIHS...CAN YOU?" Go up a nmuber if you can raed it...lte's see how hgih we can get! Gdoo lcku!

Sometimes the best thing to do is to shift the transmission into neutral and coast for a little while.  The breeze is nice :)
...
Death and censorship aren't that different. They both end with quiet.
Many of my recent creations have emphasized an overall round central area, surrounded by an overall square, not-so-round area.  Hmm.  But of course, if you know your Freud, you're aware that something must be "up" with that.  But then, I *Don't know* my Freud (I don't even think I own any), so I could give a damn.  But feel free to analyze me all you want, though I'd recommend you do more "lyze" and less "anal",as that would work out best for all of us.  If this journal "entry" is leaving you unsatisfied, then all I gotta say 'bout that is "Who asked ya to read it anyway?"  Now move along, please.  Nothing to see here.  (But seriously, thanks for stopping by, and don't forget your hat).
Pardon me while I think out loud...

"Love" is not simply a word.  Or even an exact expression.  It is almost indefinable it its true essence.  But there is no mistaking it, as it permeates the smallest blades of grass and the grandness of The Universe, God or no gods.  We can't hold it, own it or create it.  Love is only available to borrow for our own hearts to share, or it is useless.  And I don't care how you might argue, Love and its eternal companions, Forgiveness and Compassion, can be found in the very same beasts that must kill one another to simply survive.  Mankind is not innocent of that necessity, nor holds exclusive rights to the higher or lower orders of behavior.  Love is not perfection.  I believe that is the only way it can be within Us.  But it tells no secrets, does it?  It only resides if invited, but then in so many attempts to work its harmony to our own individual music.  To make us better than we are.  To hold our Prodigal Sons close again.  To bring the better angels of our humanity to understanding.  And then to wonder, "What is this?".
"They would not listen / they're not listening still / perhaps they never will"  Don Mclean, from "Vincent"

And...

"Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply." ― Stephen R. Covey
Yes, back every so often now, and thank you for all of those messages :)  I appreciated them and read some of them more than once.
There are no promises, only giraffes.  Stir and repeat (only next time, with at least one real metaphor).
(But it's OK just 2 ft. to the left of these premises).  Smoking is not allowed in either location (though I'm talking about tobacco).  No littering, loitering or making fun of or feeding the monkey.  He has allergies to everything (please note I.V.)  More rules upon request.  Not valid in Hawaii or Puerto Rico.  Member FDIC.
This space is taken.
Humans are amazing creatures, being the only species capable of emotional expressiveness in so many varied ways.  Words, music and colors can be summoned to stir the coldest heart.  But I think sometimes the most creative and powerful thing on Earth is a hug.  A good, long hug. -mh
There are just some things in life that never click right for some of us.  For me, there are 23 things.  One of them is right here on this here deviant place (no, not redundancy, though that makes 24 now).  Like when I go to the effort and make a nice (or incredibly witty) comment on someone else's art, or underneath one of my own.  I almost always forget to post those comments in the "proper" place, like right there under the comment I'm commenting on, so what we get is this out of context comment 8 comments *Above* where it should have gone and therefore makes no damned sense at all.  It's like being a standup comic and never getting the punchlines right.  Well, not *that* bad, but very similar in a "How To Be Completely Ineffective" way of being entertaining.  Anyway, no matter how I try and make myself remember to NOT do it Wrong, I DO IT WRONG.  I'm fairly intelligent, yet this is my technological Achilles Heel, and it is only on this site. I'm actually surprised I haven't posted a comment and it somehow appears smeared directly *Across* the image, like a bad Ralph Steadman painting.  Ah yes, look at me now, using a nice artist reference inside my "I'm A Dummy" rant, still trying to prove I am intelligent on some level or the other.   It isn't working.  Nope.  And the more I write here the worse this begins to smell.  Like adding more and more sugar to something you added way too much salt to.  And just like that right there....Did you see it?  Ending a sentence with a preposition.  Mrs. Tiller would beat the Hell out of me for that (yes, yes she would).  Enough.