{A story in development - for writers, every story is in development, until they decide to abandon it... I haven't quite abandoned this one just yet. At the moment, its just a vent for an idea that's still brewing.} “Do me a favour.” It read. She set the paper down. She wasn’t quite ready for it. She turned off the TV, she saw enough of herself in editing. She strode out the kitchen and up the steps, then down the short corridor to one of the two upstairs rooms… her room. Or at least it used to be. She sat down on the bare single mattress, and then started reading again. “Look out the window at the sky. Whether nightly stars, clear blue, or laden clouds… curl your knees to your chest, and keep looking. Now look at yourself. Look at your legs, your hands, your feet… what do you see?” She glanced out the window. Then around the room and at the closed door, as if expecting someone to walk in even though the house was empty. She looked at herself, just as she’d read, running her hands over her legs and feet, then staring at the palms of her hands. “What do you see?” she read it again. “It’s you. Little you in a big world. I did that too you know. I thought to myself: how small I am. How small I am that you’d think of me. We are not giants in this world… although our spirits may be.” “I saw you walking up the lane at the back, outside. I also liked to do that. It’s because of that lane and the field that I bought the house. Even when it’s dry and brown in summer, I still go. There was a fire once, burnt half the hillside. Can’t remember how we put it out… All I remember is that people came out of nowhere to help. When they left, and I was standing on the stoop, sweating, tired, I remember thinking: ‘that wasn’t boring’. “I danced upstairs, alone, with no music, maybe even in your room. I was drinking so I don’t remember what room… probably wasn’t such a good idea – could’ve fallen down the stairs. I remember that I danced because my feet made a loud noise on the wooden floor boards. I always wanted to do it, somehow that time it just felt right. And so I tap danced; I think I was laughing as well, but I don’t know why, it wasn’t a normal laugh. “I write this to explain myself. You were younger, and I could’ve told you then but these things need time to, unravel. We were broken, both of us. I could not allow your mother’s death to intercept or delay your future. This place has taught me, that everything passes. I told you, and I’m sure you noted how small we are. Remember our trips to the beach. Remember how we watched the waves, how we fell asleep. And when we left the tide had claimed our footprints. There we saw, we saw something that has been for many years, centuries, so our visit to that shore was like our visit to this life… In my years I have seen what time does to the human body. I’ve seen how nature will reclaim everything – but we are not our bodies – we are simply driving them – for a short while. So, do not despair, for they are not meant to last. I write this also, to apologise. There is something I need to apologise for, and although I cannot for the life of me put my finger on it, I can sense its presence – that vague guilt of something I did or didn’t do. I am aware of the vacancies within our little tapestry of family life, but as you know, I’ve never been a good seamstress.” She chuckled to herself, remembering a time he’d called the ladder in her stockings ‘steps’. “I love you. I agreed to you leaving so forcefully because I wanted you out of the shadow that this house was in back then. Those are probably the times when people should remain close, but sometimes proximity has little bearing on the emotions. Sometimes you can live with someone, but also just pass them by day by day. It made the time we did spend together that much more precious. Thank you for not questioning my odd ways. I did not plan it this way; I too was once again a student… “I leave this house to you, and everything I own. You are strong woman, and I am a proud father.” She paused before reading the last line. “Be without hindrance.” She looked at the paper in her hands. Then she thought of that time when she looked at the house as they drove away, watching it grow smaller through the car window. She thought of the sum of material things which constituted her ‘life’, piled into that car. She thought of the goodbye with her father. Holding him, pressing the side of her face against his chest, her eyes closed, his hand on her head. She could not remember breaking the hug… in her memory, it never ended, even though she remembered him driving away in the old car, waving, and then looking at her in the rear view mirror. That picture of him through the back windscreen sat in her memory, just the back of his head over the headrest, through the window. She hugged her legs to her chest, resting her head on her knees, she closed her eyes. It wasn’t long after when she lay down, pulling a blanket over her. The house had always felt big, too big for the just the three of them, or the two of them... It didn’t feel that way now. The single bed upon which she lay, felt small and cramped. It had been years since she’d heard the creak of these bed springs. Her father seemed to see this place as a kind of unwanted anchor for her, a place that would hold her back. But lying there, with her eyes closed, she felt tethered for the first time in years. And it was a good feeling. He would've wanted her to sell it, but for her, this was her one secret place, one she needed, considering all her days chasing the truth. She took comfort in knowing that she knew how to hide from time to time. They say the truth will set you free, but for her, all the truth the world offered - she needed this escape, this truth. This was real. it may be a largely empty house, but her memories were not. [picture credits: digitalcameraworld.com-Gianluca Bennati, aso-geopark.jp, prettylittlenest.com]
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Let’s look at this book – for that is what it is, a book. What separates it from all others though, is that it unashamedly claims to be the Word of God. That is, a message, or messages from the one who created everything in the Universe has found its way to its pages… this ‘claim’ alone, whether you believe it or not, is one of the central reasons why it is the world’s bestselling book, and has been for generations. Plot Synopsis The Story starts with all creation and the creation of Man, and then after that, God created Woman. It then progresses to the fall of man (with the intervention of Satan and the realization of Good and Evil), who chooses himself over his creator, severing that bond and welcoming sin, and death, into the world. His descendants then strive to rule the world and each other. But the story continues, focusing on an array of people and their unique walk/lives and relationship with God. God though (the creator of it all), is angered by his creation’s choice of disobedience, and the subsequent slavery to sin and death. Despite that, God still loves the world, so much so he sends his only son. The plan is to reunite his people to himself and break the bondage that sin has over his people. Enter Jesus (A coming which was prophesized). The son of God would then be beaten, tortured and crucified, killed… a man, who was without sin, who was pure, would carry the weight of sin on himself. An ordinary man, who was born in Heaven, would form the crux of existence, as his death and subsequent resurrection would break the hold that sin has over this world, forming a spiritual gateway to reunite Man with his creator. Target You. It’s for every man, woman and child walking this earth. Another reason it’s a bestseller – because it has such wide appeal. Bottom Line “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son…” – you’ve heard that line countless times that it’s almost become a religious cliché. What’s really at the centre of it though, is the coming together of two different worlds – a material one, and a spiritual one. In the Beginning (another cliché) these two worlds were very close (God and Man had open conversations, the world was a beautiful Eden), but then came the fall, and the separation. Ever since, God has tried to find a way back for us, as we in turn have tried to find the answers to the existential questions we have about ourselves. As the bible says, Man was never intended to have to deal with death, sin was never part of creation, women were never meant to experience pain in childbirth… every pain we endure is thus simply echoes of the pain felt in that fateful moment when man disobeyed God (*** The First physical wound experienced in the Bible is by Adam, when God removes his rib to form Eve - yet there's no record of pain being felt, and the healing was instantaneous - because God did the healing himself***). Hence the two worlds have separated – the material world held ransom to sin and slavery (ruled by Satan), and God’s quest to free Man… and aid him in the realization that he is not of this world, to reawaken his spiritual existence. In a stunning move (call it the checkmate move) God sacrificed his only beloved son. (when Jesus is hanging on the cross he screams “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” – this marks the first time the son addresses his father as ‘God’, indicative of the separation. God turned his back on his son for that moment, so that we (mankind) may be reconciled with our spiritual father). But Satan has no hold over Jesus (heaven’s own), and a material death of his fleshly body does not (cannot) hold. As a book, this is a fantastic story, when you think of it in a finite sense, with authors and writers that compose stories, books, bestsellers etc.one has to wonder, who could conceive this story, who came up with such a work, with such daring portrayals and claims. Well, it wasn’t one man or woman, it was many (over 40 authors – there were incomplete gospels that weren’t included, as well as number of anonymous authors), and it was written and compiled over a period of over 1500 years. It truly is a special book – I almost said ‘one of a kind’ but then my thoughts turned to the Torah (focussing on the narrative of the Jewish people) and Quran (the central religious text of Islam and greatest piece of literature in the Arabic language) … the fact that these three books/manuscripts/compilations are so similar is a staggering thought. Are they plagiarized – copies of one another just taken with different meanings and interpretations, and emphasis on different events? What’s certain is that they have far more similarities than differences. (The one glaring difference is the regard or emphasis placed on the life of Jesus – he is central to the Bible, but a bit-part player, almost cameo in the other two by comparison). But back to the Bible (which doesn’t have one spelling error in any copy I’ve seen) – since I don’t speak Hebrew/Aramaic or Arabic unfortunately – it must be said that it warrants a read simply because of the questions it poses of oneself (whether you’re willing to accept the answers it offers, is up to you.) The fact that it can be used as a daily devotional guide and life study book is also indicative of its influence and power – and it’s hard to argue against the fact that this book has power – even if its just in a material sense. (My grandmother, a woman well into her 80’s still faithfully attends weekly Bible study – this just exemplifies the fact that it has a lasting impression and that it does offer practically an unending fount of deep information. One could study this book your entire life, read it multiple times, and still find new meaning in it, daily – in fact, some say that performing this act will lead you to a better life, by applying something simple like the 10 Commandments to your life, and meditating on scripture. These practices have proven to have a profound effect on the individual and those around them. Truth be told it’s hard to write a book review on the bible because it is so vast and even prophesizes/predicts events yet to come (and lets not forget to mention that this book has proven quite reliable in that approximately 80% of the prophesies foretold in the Bible, have been fulfilled - to the letter - whilst the remaining prophesies reach further into our future!), but for an individual, if you’ve read this book, whether from beginning to end, or just jumping in in the middle somewhere (another unique feature), it might benefit you to review what you’ve read, as you would any other book. There are of course boring bits – this book does of course cover life, and the lives of many people, even some mundane bits, but that’s also part of the beauty, because it translates to everyone, to everyday life. In the Bible you’ll find beggars, Kings, prostitutes, fishermen, taxmen, farmers, murderers, doctors, philosophers, Angels, talking animals, carpenters, scholars, prophets, Demons, soldiers… people from every walk of life… many people, many generations, the creation of the world, and even a message of unconditional and undeserving Love. So, whether you believe that all these people were indeed onto something or that it’s just a collection of wild, outrageous and sometimes brutal stories collected and compiled over centuries (who or what drove so many people to write about this with such conviction, to be translated into so many languages and in varying versions et al.), you cannot deny it truly is fully worth its status as the world’s bestselling book, and why it's often referred to as the “Holy Bible” – the only book in the world claiming to be the actual ‘Word of God’. This is not a book about religion, its a book about reclaiming and restoring a lost Love; sacrificing everything and going to war for your true love. It may not look it, but war and love are on two sides of the same coin in this book, as they are in most books. Its a fight, a war for your heart... the message is, God wants you back, in his embrace. Humanity is often referred to as the 'bride of Christ', destined to join him in heaven; so the story effectively is about a man who sacrifices himself (appears as payment/exchange/ransom) to set free his captive, yet unfaithful love from the shackles of death. (There is no conceivable rating for such a book – it kind sets the standard) Question: if it indeed be true, if this is in fact the Word of God... what then, at the very least it should not be ignored. And, if this book is a work of fiction, then it is a fantastic piece, but since all art (since fiction is art) imitates life, what does this book say about reality? Mark Twain (notable fiction writer/author) said Truth is stranger than fiction, well for those who believe this to be a work of fiction... then I shudder to think of what truth lay as seed of inspiration for this work. Either way, plenty of food for many a deep thought! This is an official announcement that my book (formerly known as 'The Quiet Days') has since been renamed "Peacekeeper". It took me a while to make the decision, but slowly the new one won me over. I've also decided to name the sequel The Quiet Days, it feels only right that I do, whilst a possible prequel will be named 'The Dark Days'. There is a deeper relevance to these names of course and not just a morbid fascination with "Days", or the days of our lives Lol. For a brief Synopsis, keep reading... (its still the same book, albeit on the cusp of the 4th draft with some back end rewrites.) 'Peacekeeper' blurb: There are always so many questions; some remaining forever unanswered, and those with answers few are willing to face. For Michael, that’s hardly the beginning. In Israel investigating a terrorist threat, during a ceasefire after Operation Cast Lead on Gaza and the West Bank, he faces the questions that most are afraid of. An experienced former soldier, now trained in the art of conflict resolution, he discovers his true place, once again learning the art of survival, even when there’s no escaping a bullet. On borrowed time, in the shadow of Interpol and the UN, through blood and dirt, his greatest enemy in the fight to maintain peace, remains the man in the mirror, taunting him with that one fateful question: how much difference can one good man really make? "For whose cause, if not your own, are you willing to die?" Peacekeeper poem: (this appears at the very beginning of the book, it's also the one and only poem I've written in some years, and I continue to tinker with it...) … a faint whisper stirs, within, growing, piercing the inner walls; Another I, revealing …the fear, of the quiet days, the dark days when I’m dead but still living. My spent blood runs slow, my trembling hands, my frozen eyes in these cold, peaceful times. That fear of the slight of me . . . the far away man in the mirror, dark of the deep of the still waters in those eyes . . . my quiet days, creeping, nearer… [I may write a part 2 of this poem that may/will appear at the end of my book...] "You don’t expect to be shot during a ceasefire, or to see a peacekeeper break protocol, but anything goes in the pursuit to maintain the status quo, even if that means sacrificing a good man." - “The reward of sin is death.” That’s hard. If we say that we have no sin, We deceive ourselves, and there’s no truth in us.”... – Doctor Faustus, Goethe’s Faust. - If you like what you see, please feel free to rate it below, but if you have some constructive criticism or words of support then leave your comments - I always appreciate the feedback. Writing is of course a largely solitary profession and even just feeding some breadcrumbs for readers can elicit some angst on my part. I just hope you're as excited as I am, it's going to be big. Many Blessings Ciao Mark Twain, AKA Samuel Langhorne Clemens (1835 - 1910), as Publisher's Weekly once noted: "this manic, profound, daft and provocative mad genius of American culture." Author of the so-called, 'Great American novel': Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (and the one he wrote before that, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer). Hence, he's often called the 'great American novelist'. With that intro, plus the fact that his works and philosophies are enjoying a resurgence in modern literature and even political commentary, it's no stretch to think he'd have tips and relevant opinions on writing itself. Here then is his 18 tips on writing, followed by a short story which I thought appropriate for the sake of this blog - and my writing career. "To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence." - - Twain Mark Twain's Rules for Writing 1. A tale shall accomplish something and arrive somewhere. 2. The episodes of a tale shall be necessary parts of the tale, and shall help develop it. 3. The personages in a tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others. 4. The personages in a tale, both dead and alive, shall exhibit a sufficient excuse for being there. 5. When the personages of a tale deal in conversation, the talk shall sound like human talk, and be talk such as human beings would be likely to talk in the given circumstances, and have a discoverable meaning, also a discoverable purpose, and a show of relevancy, and remain in the neighborhood of the subject in hand, and be interesting to the reader, and help out the tale, and stop when the people cannot think of anything more to say. 6. When the author describes the character of a personage in his tale, the conduct and conversation of that personage shall justify said description. 7. When a personage talks like an illustrated, gilt-edged, tree-calf, hand-tooled, seven-dollar Friendship's Offering in the beginning of a paragraph, he shall not talk like a Negro minstrel at the end of it. 8. Crass stupidities shall not be played upon the reader by either the author or the people in the tale. 9. The personages of a tale shall confine themselves to possibilities and let miracles alone; or, if they venture a miracle, the author must so plausibly set it forth as to make it look possible and reasonable. 10. The author shall make the reader feel a deep interest in the personages of his tale and their fate; and that he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and hate the bad ones. 11. The characters in tale be so clearly defined that the reader can tell beforehand what each will do in a given emergency. An author should 12. _Say_ what he is proposing to say, not merely come near it. 13. Use the right word, not its second cousin. 14. Eschew surplusage. 15. Not omit necessary details. 16. Avoid slovenliness of form. 17. Use good grammar. 18. Employ a simple, straightforward style. "The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." My debut As a Literary Person Short Story by Mark Twain In those early days I had already published one little thing ('The Jumping Frog') in an Eastern paper, but I did not consider that that counted. In my view, a person who published things in a mere newspaper could not properly claim recognition as a Literary Person: he must rise away above that; he must appear in a magazine. He would then be a Literary Person; also, he would be famous--right away. These two ambitions were strong upon me. This was in 1866. I prepared my contribution, and then looked around for the best magazine to go up to glory in. I selected the most important one in New York. The contribution was accepted. I signed it 'MARK TWAIN;' for that name had some currency on the Pacific coast, and it was my idea to spread it all over the world, now, at this one jump. The article appeared in the December number, and I sat up a month waiting for the January number; for that one would contain the year's list of contributors, my name would be in it, and I should be famous and could give the banquet I was meditating. I did not give the banquet. I had not written the 'MARK TWAIN' distinctly; it was a fresh name to Eastern printers, and they put it 'Mike Swain' or 'MacSwain,' I do not remember which. At any rate, I was not celebrated and I did not give the banquet. I was a Literary Person, but that was all--a buried one; buried alive. My article was about the burning of the clipper-ship 'Hornet' on the line, May 3, 1866. There were thirty-one men on board at the time, and I was in Honolulu when the fifteen lean and ghostly survivors arrived there after a voyage of forty-three days in an open boat, through the blazing tropics, on ten days' rations of food. A very remarkable trip; but it was conducted by a captain who was a remarkable man, otherwise there would have been no survivors. He was a New Englander of the best sea-going stock of the old capable times--Captain Josiah Mitchell. For the full story, click HERE "Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it." When he died, American newspapers declared (typically arrogant, though somewhat retrospectively prophetic) "The whole world is mourning", The following quote is perhaps his most famous... "Truth is stranger than Fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't." I recommend this book to you as it was recommended to me, and then the same guy (Shout-out to Jonathan Strysko) who did the recommending, then gave me the book a few days later just before attending another friend's wedding. In a way, it kind of found me at just the right moment (not between weddings, but in my writing). This also happens to be the first book I've actually read from start to finish in quite a while. I've started a few novels but haven't gotten round to finishing them (one by Roald Dahl - for those tracking me on Goodreads) - this is what happens when you read for the sake of reading, as apposed to reading what you need or really want to read in that moment (one novel I started but haven't finished, is the latest in the Myron Bolitar crime series 'Live Wire' by Harlen Coben - and that was a book I was looking forward to , but somehow, my heart and mind was in search of something else - although I will definitely get back to savoring that one - and then, out of nowhere, came this book by Donald Miller, an author I admittedly didn't know much about). I've never done a review for a book before so I'll hijack the format we use at In The Kan for films (its more fun that way); to read it, just click the read more tab at the bottom of this post (I only display what I think people actually want to see - and I for one, am not a fan of reading book reviews, I'm more of an impulsive and instinctual reader, whatever that is...) so let me rather add Miller's Author's Note which got me (recommendations and gifts by friends aside) intrigued enough to turn the page. Author's Note: (A Million miles in a Thousand Years) If you watched a movie about a guy who wanted a Volvo and worked for years to get it, you wouldn't cry at the end when he drove off the lot, testing the windshield wipers. You wouldn't tell your friends you saw a beautiful movie or go home and put a record on to think about the movie you'd seen.The truth is, you wouldn't remember that movie a week later, except you'd feel robbed and want your money back. Nobody cries at the end of movie about a guy who wants a Volvo. So, here's why this book appealed to me . You see, within this journey of writing a book, I've learned quite a lot and, as I've said to many folks, "I wrote a book, and then, during the process of editing and rewriting, I learned how to actually write a book". There are actually courses and textbooks to creative writing and story construction (one course is even mentioned in A Million miles) that I didn't know about, so effectively I skipped all the boring stuff about developing plot and subplot and constructing a protagonist etc... most of that came naturally (although I did need some refining), what I really needed to learn, was why I wrote this book in the first place, and how I can now make it better. I wont go too far into the details, but suffice is to say that after writing my first manuscript, I, like so many others who have done so, thought I was THE BOMB... as it turned out, my boom wasn't that spectacular (more of a PUFF really, I mean I knew it was only a first draft, but it was my first, first draft, EVER - and for a moment there, I could kind of live in that spotlight that only I could see). And then I learned that that was actually normal. It has been said by someone famous, that a 1st draft is simply a blank formless lump of clay, and that from then on, the writer chips and chisels away with subsequent drafts and rewrites to reveal the actual story, buried in there somewhere. And, it's been within this stage where the REAL questions started to come up, about my story, my main character and his conflict, his life and those around him... and by extension, those questions sort of crept up on me and my life, and this career of writing I've chosen, one that hasn't produced much as of yet, that anyone can see anyway... So yeah, in this journey I've needed, and received, many nudges in the right direction, from professionals, professors, journalists and perfect strangers (some of whom have become friends).
It's been frustrating, but I anticipate, as I near the completion of my 3rd (and a half) draft, that when this book (prior to all the others I will write, and after I acquire a Literary Agent)) eventually gets published that the main sensation I'll feel, the one that will be most prevalent, is Relief! The problem with being a writer, is that we see things a little differently. It’s not as though we’re trying that hard, but the more you write, the more you look, and whether it be for inspiration for a story, or just where to fit ourselves into the picture (because sometimes we need to be chameleon-like), our odd angle on life, just happens . It’s a bit like those poetic lyrics by Kris Kristofferson: “He's a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction (- a little random I know, but I’ve really been looking for moment to use those lines, and FYI, you don't have to be a writer to see the world in a different light) Truth is, we’re always looking for an avenue to explore. Sometimes it doesn’t feel natural, (or foreboding even) and usually that’s exactly what persuades us to take that route. We live in our heads, conjuring worlds and characters, and sometimes, or most times, it can get quite cluttered… so a little downtime is always in order. A far as strolls on the beachfront goes, well, it is kind of clichéd, but it only became so because it works, otherwise, there’s the mountain and Cliff side hike, for some real fresh air. Keeping with mountains, there’s real value to it you know… The clean air begins to invigorate you as you fill your lungs, then you start to climb and your muscles really start to work, forcing you to suck even more oxygen. Then you get higher and the oxygen levels decrease and your body starts to burn more energy to compensate. And the reality is, you haven’t even gone that far yet – its only just begun. That feeling you’re feeling; your muscles, your lungs, quickening breath and all… that is the feeling of literally being, more alive! Seriously though, you literally ARE using more of your body - awakening many particles and molecules that were sleeping. And as luck would have it, being alive kind of helps to tell better stories too, that’s generally how these things work. Anyway, on this recent trip, I may not have learned anything especially new (or gone on a hike), but certain things were clarified a bit more, with regard to my life as well as my storytelling… Most times it’s not about what or how much you know, but rather the way in which you apply the knowledge already amassed, and asking yourself the right – difficult to answer – questions. Both obviously and primarily apply to your life, and that will automatically filter into your work. Its all there or in front of your face, we just need (as is so often the case) to be reminded how to use it, or illustrate it, like the way a photographer uses light, or a master-chef brings certain flavors to the fore . Have a great weekend! Ciao - All pics by me... location: Durban promenade, with the World Cup Stadium arch featuring in the last two images. It was a little breezy, but not too chilly.- My first post back, and I must say there really is such a thing as "car-lag", the car version of jetlag... Anyway here's something random I wrote whilst on my travels with family and friends, along with some of what I've seen recently: Just like a drop of water or small splinter overwhelms an ant, so could one equate life defining events we experience and later describe as “pivotal” in our lives… it thusly inspired one grey haired man to exclaim, with pointed finger, “It’s all relative”. When you think back on your life you may well recognize several or more “way-points” which greatly influenced the evolution of you. Some of those points will be bright with achievement, or dark with sorrow or failure even, but the ones in between are a little more subtle - in and amongst all the boring bits. They come and go and sometimes pass us by due to untimely distraction or stubbornness on our part, when we’re so set in our ways. They may be shocking and surprising; the modern day ‘intervention’ coming to mind, or they may come in the form of a soft whisper, if we’re attentive enough to lend a spiritual ear. To some who are willing to see, to look past the obvious, morsels of treasure could well be found. In great detective stories they talk about ‘knowing what to look for’ – and the same could be said in the case of ‘life moments’ or just life in general… if you’re in that place where you’re either looking for change, affirmation of something or a blunt tap to steer you in the right direction. If you’re looking for it, whatever it may be, you’ll see it, nestling within simple conversation, or the words unspoken. Sometimes, it’s an event itself – maybe not even happening to you, perhaps you’re only an observer, learning from the lessons of others… As a writer, it’s easy to observe, but getting involved and allowing myself to be moved by the things I see and people I meet are essential, fundamental. Our evolution and growth depend on it. It doesn’t always come easily, because sometimes we can be too settled, distracted, or maybe we’re afraid of change or comfortable in our ways that we just tend to get in our own way… Anyway, a great story inevitably surrounds a great character (insert yourself here), overcoming, achieving, and most of all, living. You may not always get what you want, but in becoming the best character, you must first overcome... to be forged. Special Mention: Also: Congrats to Tebs and Bontle... simply beautiful! Yes people, this was a two wedding hit and run trip! (*All pics in this post taken by me... - And I thank you!*) |
[Banner illustration by Joel Kanar]
WRITING
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