Well, whaddya know. Blogger has enabled multiple pages (when did that happen?). This'll actually keep me. Because of some directions I want to go in with photography, and my web presence, multiple pages were becoming indispensable, and I was considering shifting my focus over to the wordpress blog. It seems that'll not be needed now, and I am grateful. We'll do a little something more with this in a few weeks, when school lets out...or not .
For now, suffice it to say I am a philoshopher, photographer, fisherman, mystic, nursing student, and heretic. I love to be outdoors, preferably on a trail or in a kayak. I love to paddle away into the distance, eagerly seeking that place where the sounds of civilization become undetectable. There, with the gentle lullaby of wildlife and trickling Georgia waterways in the background, the still, small voice becomes most audible to me, and my connection to God seems most concrete, though I know dependance on this is dangerous, and I seek a conscious contact with my God often, regardless of my surroundings.
I am an amateur at nearly everything I love, Though I have been offered compensation for:..
- Artisan Glasswork
- House painting
- Handyman Services
- Mechanical Engineering
- The Brokerage of (certain) Commodities
Paint and carpentry provide most of my grocery-purchasing power, and have done so for much of the last quarter century. I am right-brained,
I like to think...and writing helps thinking, giving me a chance to look things over and flex the ol' cognitive muscle, hopefully increasing strength and endurance. I should invest as much effort in the rest of me, but I don't.
In 2008 I began blogging for cathartic reasons. I noticed that I thirst, for something. I have somewhat nervously walked away from conventional theology and have tried to take the steps needed for an authentic personal intimacy with this guy, Jesus. Because of this, your pastor and your grandma think I'm a heretic and that my seat in the afterlife is in the smoking section, but this is not a blog about religion.
I have a descartesianesque sense that there is a truth... a spiritual Principia that decompartmentalizes life, and ties the holy to the mundane. I know it must have something to do with Jesus, this living water. I have never been thirstier, and I am looking sooo hard, trying to see through... trying to see beyond. To peer beneath shit and sanctity to see love. Like Pilate (no relation), I ask God-in-a-bod, "What is truth?"
And the Heavens remain silent for the most part. But...sometimes there seems to be a whisper.
Things have happened. Hopefully, this means I'm getting warm.