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Post by peter on Apr 19, 2005 11:12:51 GMT -5
for alll of you who have enjoyed or put up with me.... thanks.... blottter does really exist... we met while swimming 40 years ago... he came to me while i was swimming in a lake in upstate ny.... that lake is where i played as a youngster... I am going back there for a bit.... maybe say hello to a freind and his family...... I have a few thousand pages of blotter in about 18 stories... Maybe it will be mine for awhile longer ... maybe not.. 12 of the manuscripts are done and have been for along time... just some simple ideas about how I might see , or go swimming or sailing or tree watching and continue become who I am...... or not. squeezer.... my cat is trying to pet me with his paw right now. His gentleness of reaching out and putting his paw on my cheek is life touching life... simple. .... Fatboy is circling the bowl and Dinghy is waiting to be petted back while he sleeps on his back, his whiskers twitching in the noonish sun.......... Thanks all... peace.
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Post by Falion on Apr 19, 2005 12:10:55 GMT -5
I hope your not leaving for good?!
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Post by peter on Apr 20, 2005 11:54:36 GMT -5
nah mate! just a different focus... i'll stop in now and then.... ..peace....p
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Post by Edina on Apr 20, 2005 12:27:42 GMT -5
In that case, we'll miss Blotter and his friends for sure... Happy sailing Peter! Hope to see you again soon.
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Post by Monia on Apr 22, 2005 7:25:08 GMT -5
Here, just for blotter. Thanks Edina..a so sweet gift;)
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Post by lizanne333 on Apr 22, 2005 11:29:01 GMT -5
Monia,
To the most brilliant changling I have ever encountered! Yes, I suspected!
Lookin' for a lover who won't blow my cover She's so hard to find. Take it easy, take it easy, Don't let the wheels of your own mind make you crazy! -Where EAGLES alone dare!
My God, you are everywhere!
Lizanne
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Post by peter on Apr 27, 2005 12:36:27 GMT -5
The tree really was still there. In more than one place in more than one time. Thats all. A little like the air in our lungs.Everyone knows that there is still a part of out first breath in us as there is a bit of our last. Listening to the music rain had carried the tears running towards the skyshore again. Some goes to the sea and some to the air. Blottter knew the entire time. He had made that choice so long ago.. He forgot. Thats not to say that it didnt hurt nor is it to say that his happiness wasnt with him either when he thought of Matia.. or aa or Whiteman tree. He thought inside his own walk, remembering within inside, his own idea of what he thought he missed. So he walked the great north woods heading back to where he was born. ..In relief of time.
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Post by blotter on May 1, 2005 8:17:59 GMT -5
" hmmmm, i guess thats just the way it is... "
The TreeWay of colorshape are here for all of us to reflect upon...
The Water Earth Air Light, They all reflect a chance at a chance to be filled with memory ... What a Lovely party event!!! They invited MEEEEEE to their everymoment song today as they have invited all of us........ I ran towards the sound as I broke upon the shore under the planet rain... and now ? floating upon my back watching and listening carefully ( as otters do) as smiletears return to the lake that supports me. I grew up on this shore. And to see it now as the sun whispers its little goodbye kiss , i begin to hear the stars help me wander a million light years away... Im home Im home ImmmmmHOME!!!!!... and ya know? this feeling in all of us is a tap on the shoulder and a reminder to enjoyyyyyyyyyy...
Blotter just floated out there.. Ok in being alone.. Its not always that way. He knows that And this mountain lake that has beeen singing its own history now holds me close in a friendly blanketing hug...
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Post by peter on May 4, 2005 14:36:55 GMT -5
across the shore it looked like a fine fine day. Reflections were comming in from every where. The spiritbear wasnt lost. it just walked along that rocky tree water expression without words , full of soul. blottter stopped blotttering and looked between those two worlds hearing memorysongs feeelings of early may.. He saw her in the tipping light refraction of almost being found.... No prints on the shore , bigger than an idea. just looking about. thinking of unity. thinking of home
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Post by Guestly Behaviour on May 4, 2005 23:54:32 GMT -5
Blotter said:
...... almost being found....
It just doesn't matter anymore if anyone finds me. I don't anylonger need anyone to find me. Should such a thing ever occur, I should be most surprised. ....and giving this up was verrrry hard, and verrrrry lonely, and verrrry painful, but suchasitis, itiswhatitis.
So, dear Blotter, it is such a healing balm; your words, once again.
Just a guest, always(One to whom it once was important)
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Post by peter on May 6, 2005 22:54:33 GMT -5
pamalfi..... how come you eat a full meal on a few morsels... as if that was a true measure?.. I have asked you that before...... and ? dreams of Instanbul and mother spirit still lies within you. unspoken. wha?. Im still here.. as i have beeen. wha? peace blotter in washington a flicker of light is not enough to make anything grow Our four corners never act that way. Not now. not ever. the colors of red black green blue yellow and white are the positions path.... all the children have played with them.. then grown older . and forgotten. simple is best.. petersong my home waters course through me like i forgot to breathe.
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Guest with the best
Guest
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Post by Guest with the best on May 6, 2005 23:17:49 GMT -5
Hi Peter,
How you be?
However, contained within the tiniest morsel is all of the nourishment one could possibly need, no?
Truly, Wishing, that wishes were horses, then this beggar would ride, that your imagery would be real, ah!, oh! that this beggar would then ride to Amalfi sounds nice, and so does Croatia, and so does..... but alas, how do I get there from the tiniest morsel?
Guesting
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Post by peter on May 8, 2005 9:50:57 GMT -5
The sun shines equally for us alllllllll so how is it that anyone misses alllllll this light? how do you get there? the same way you got here... time . energy. and dreams..... Intent intent intent.... same way blotter floats upon his home shores.... because he wishes toooooooo..... wheeeeeeeeeeeeee........hugsssss.. return to NY in a week.... peace....pb...
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Post by guestperplexed on May 8, 2005 14:59:02 GMT -5
Peter,
Happy Mother's Day, and why not? Are you not both Mother/Father at one time or another?
If it was Washstate, I could take a ride, it is a few hours, but it time and space, well how enjoyable it could be, tea?Seattle?walk?blotter,grumble,grumble, humble,humble. Would like to place a face to this place in me, the picture therof morphs constantly, friend. Ihaveaprivatemailhere andyouknowprivateemailthere?maybeshedsomelightinme?
guestinggivinguptowhat?
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Post by lizanne333 on May 9, 2005 13:09:52 GMT -5
For the JB's of the world who have tried helping me.
Cruising along the twisting winding roads of this heavenly valley, '69 MBZ, powder blue grey, sunroof wide open, half of the top, the sun shining in. I Magnin fox fur always wanted to wear, softly surrounds me, softly, warmly, sunglasses view, a patchwork quilt of repair upon this road leading to the sea, slowing down the crew in their orange, shoveling more patch to the road. I slow, window down, and they greet me. "You belong in HOLLYWOOD", they exclaim. "I was born in HOLLYWOOD", I shout, laughing, slowly passing the heralds, protecting the way, and funny thing is, it was true!
The call went out for a woman with money from the not so sleepy town near the sea.
How did I know that it was me?
It was Easter Sunday; 1979, and I was alone, lonely. After altering my consciousness, just a wee, doesn't take much, to see; I went to the local store and bought me the paper. Alfa Romeos, ah!, I will look and see, that will make me feel better, always has, will it continue to be? Just looking, hearing the soft, muffled engine, purring in me, red, black top, wooden steering wheel, casting all care; cruising the ridge of the Coastal Range. Hair flying in the wind, colors of green upon green, and Spring just arriving again and again at each elevation. I have discovered Perpetual Spring! Whadaya know, hey what? Perpetual Spring! Daffodils, tulips blooming in Shasta in May!
Full of hope, 'maginary, I opened the ads to the A's. Don't remember how it happened, but there it was jumping off the page, "Warm hearted Christian Man With Real Estate, Looking for Wife with $$$$$. Come fill our home with love.....and I know you are out there, and you are One in a Million......
Forgetting Alpha Romeo's completely, I sprung from my bed to my Goldberg Bowen desk, and sorted through cards to respond. While looking; on another level, I said, "This man needs help, and I know it is me, and oh how I can help, just wait and see!"
I collected cards, pictures that spoke to me, now looking for one that would speak to him, of me, in a way that I may not even know of myself, but full of future me's, that we can discover together!"
Ah! Here's one of my favorites, do I give it away? Do I give all of myself away? Holding the memory of times in this place, the Cliff House before the fire, carriage wheels creaking by, driver, calling softly, whip in hand, viewing the lights within...wanting to feel a part of whole, still separate and afraid. If I partake, they will see, my wounds still seeping, and then they attack me again and again. For they say I am not real, and I try to be, what they want me to be, to just be with them, but alas!, I am different, and the wounds will bleed in front of them, why do they do this to me? So I call to the driver, "Carry on, carry on, driver not tonight; maybe another time, carry on driver, carry on."
Remembering my friend exploring the terrain, without any fear, having given up all things, a mirror, the shirt off her back, because I loved it, I loved her, but she was so advanced, and I was afraid, but she was so free. I was bound by this fear that someone would hurt me.
Playing flute in a natural cave, at the point, where the sea rushes to the Gate, echo...echo, purity, pure resonance.
The moon is full over this house on the cliff, an etching on fine paper, the kind that will last, threads of dark clouds string across its' face, what a night, oh what a night, lights bright!
All for now- Lizanne333
May 5, 2005
Rejoice Shasta Lake if Full, again, Oh thanks be to the All, That mine eyes could view Such complete beauty!
For so long in the years of my travels I travailed at its' loss Banks barren, scarred, Condensed puddles of debris and all kinds of bacteria
What a time for a flushing out of such stuff it would have been As people became ill as the waters condensed
But the waters flowed in abundantly filling its' coffers to the rim To the limit of her capacity
Be warned should they recede Unless man introduces naturally a creature who feeds on such things
Then the waters, again, are not safe!
May 9, 2005
OH MY GOD! For Zena Zalunardo, beauteous one whereever you might now be!
Having traversed the waters of Her Majesty Drunk from the essence of Her flow Residing in me the memory of such tranquil beauty....I will remember you, as such, and always.
How could I know oh tranquil waters forever scarred by ensuing events That four days later, the day before the one of the Mother's that you would subjected to such horror!
STUDENT FOUND DEAD!
Oh, why does this have to be? Missing since Saturday, May 9th, Gina Zalunardo, 23, student at Oregon State Univeristy, disappeared from SLAUGHTERHOUSE ISLAND On Lake Shasta, California
Wonderful Mother's Day news splashed across the papers of this town delivering a shock of such intensity to my soul, that had just found peace and tranquility in the waters of Her shore.
"Suspicious death" they say and I am sure, as lovely as you are that the mountain claimed your spirit, nothing lost, but that 'twas deeds (hu)man turned your housing to dust!
Oh sweet Gina! I will always remember you Part of my shell died also and my soul doth travail Come unto me if but for awhile that I may hold you that my heart may gain some peace!
-lizanne
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