iPad Art

Skinny heart

When can you call a heart skinny? When it’s become thinner than normal. And a heart becomes thinner when things are not normal. Thin and dark, with holes and patches. It becomes thin and dark also when it misses something … or someone. When the heart losses it’s power. And a heart losses its power with every person it loses, with every lie it soaks, with every betrayal. It can be healed though. People say it can be healed with love.

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Above and Beyond

Above Comes After Beneath
I am slowly opening my mouth. It’s always better that way. In any situation, good or bad, you often need to open your mouth. It helps you breath better; it relaxes you. You need to breathe, always, remember gotta breathe! Like when you see something beautiful and, in amazement, you go “Wow” and you open your mouth.

This time was bad though. Like someone was grabbing me by the throat and I couldn’t breathe.  I felt light and bright. That’s amazing, but I couldn’t breathe.  I was flowing. I was soaked. I couldn’t talk. I knew I should not open my mouth. I couldn’t even think or move my body. I was just there, somewhere left at the drift. There was nothing else in that moment, not a single thought in my head! But wait, that felt good! It’s good not to think about million things in the same time. I couldn’t decide…my body was convulsing; my hands flowing above my head, my hair felt electrified like I had stuck my fingers in the wall-plug. A nice dream I thought.  May be I got hit by a car while walking the damn dogs!

But no wait! That was years ago. There were no dogs that people take care of when some people themselves go hungry! Dogs that get combed and shampooed when kids live in the mud! That was long time ago. So, these are no dogs, but visions. I’m not sure if they are whispering or screaming. If these are the kids or the dogs. But they are in my head!

Everything is too bright and out of place. I hate these pictures my mind draws. But wait they are no pictures. These are memories. These are real, or were real! What time is it?

“Mom!” “Mom” “Moooom”

“Shut up!”

What am I doing? I couldn’t open my mouth. No one could hear me then. It was because it was fluid. Fluid! But if it is that I am in a fluid, why do I hate it? I love swimming. Being out on the mountain, swimming in the lakes. That’s part of my life. The best part. No dogs, no muddy kids. Just crystal clear sky and lakes, up in the mountains. Now it’s all painful and mirage like.

I hate the visions, the pictures my mind draws.

I am walking down the dirty street and around me, on leashes, those people’s dogs. Each one pulls to a side completely different of the other four, and the other four do the same and it’s like they walk me not I them. Idiotic. Dogs think they are happy, their people think they are happy and they think I do something good and they are happy. Boy, I wanna hang all of them on these leashes! People think they give their dogs some freedom by paying me to walk them on a leash. What idiots! And what stupid dogs! They are on leashes! There is no freedom here. And you idiots are paying me for this. You think you can buy freedom?! You don’t know what freedom means. You live in your fancy apartments and you love them. When you are closed inside, surrounded by those stupid dogs, and you moil and toil for to stay inside as longer as possible. You don’t know what’s happening next door, but you know dogs. Pathetic!

It’s fluid.

I’m swimming. The lake is clear and calm. It’s cold, but I don’t mind it because the mind sets it that way. The sky filtrates through me, and the coldness and the soil, and I have roots coming in and out of all my body extensions, and I’m all connected. Boy that is now. Thank god, it is now. Thank god this came! Thank god I never stop believing and never craved into the dog madness. If I had just spent one more day letting myself being pulled by those dogs, I was gonna probably become the first serial dog killer! I had kept this routine, dogs, leashes, doors, streets, colorful pavement, windows, skyscrapers, and dogs again, cars honking, people talking, thinking that they are talking when they are really squeaking like animals, which they actually are, but they don’t think so. They think the fact that someone defined likewise looking as humans make all of us humans!

Am I stuck somewhere or am I free now? Gotta stop recalling in order to decide. Just stop. I can’t take a deep breath though. Can’t open my mouth. I am here and there. And I like and I hate. And I am and I’m not. I am in and I am out. Will it end? It will, just breathe.

Is your head spinning?

Mine is.

wake up, get up and check!

check your phone, check your email, Facebook, Google +, Twitter, the news, turn on the radio.

Bathroom check in there! Then turn on the coffee machine. Slowly transitioning form the isolation of your sleep to the noise of the buzzing, fuzzing world. Do you like it? I bet you do. It makes you feel alive, right. That’s what we all keep telling ourselves. I want more. I can take more. Give me more. More emails, more phone calls, more Facebook friends, more Twitter followers.

Is your head spinning? No. Ok.

The coffee is ready. Wait you don’t even have time to sit down in your kitchen and drink a cup of coffee. You have to go! You have one hour of driving to work. If you are lucky, you may get there in 45 min. Good luck. So, you will be drinking your coffee in the car, and probably have some breakfast in the car too.

Finally, you are at your desk. You are ready to start your day. Open your email and listen to your voice mails first. Wow, you have 116 emails and 12 voice messages. Busy bee! What will this company do without you. Just until you get around to go through all this noise and it’s lunch time. Yey. Now you can have some time to sit down and eat like a normal person. You have about 45 min. Don’t forget to clock out.
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Everything on the Go

That’s you living on the go over there. And you too. And me too.

But hey it’s your choice. If you like it keep doing what you doing. If you feel that life has dropped some heavy weight on your shoulders that presses your breasts and you can’t breathe then change something.

We often only think about what happened today and how you couldn’t change it. After work you go home take your shoes off and your clothes and you think now its all good. The day has passed and now I can enjoy my home and my meal. And is this all there is to life? That’s what we all do.

Do we leave the storytelling to novelists?

All marketers will come running and screaming NO NO! We use storytelling to sell our products and services. We need it. We can do it and we do it. Daily. Marketing and advertising managers and executives have tapped into the deepest and the dearest places of our souls. They have learned this from the literature, theater and movie industry. Marketing departments understand how to play with our emotions. The most skillful once tell simple stories that sell us their brand in a very subtle way. This is smart selling right. And people around the world like it. Millions take it because they need it. We all love a good story. Whether you read it, watch it or play it (yes play The World of War Craft!).

Storytelling is one of the oldest professions. Yes it is a profession because not everybody was talented do draw crowds who would sit and listen. The difference is this profession wasn’t selling anything back then.

Are we really so thirsty for stories, but that busy to get a book, a novel, and satisfy this need for cultural and spiritual enrichment?

Through the magic of language, gestures and images we can be drawn in, and our imagination intrigued. A good story will touch millions of people. A good marketer knows that and they use it to make those people customers. Just like Google does.

Google’s latest video “Google Search: Reunion” received millions of views in just two days because it tells a good story. It is just a great example of how strategic storytelling works to promote a brand.

Watch the video here if you would like: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHGDN9-oFJE

So, do we leave the storytelling to novelists? Obviously any person or company can use the power of storytelling. It is awesome that there are so many storytellers. But do we get to hear all those good stories out there? No. The mass often only hears stories from the big companies, with deep promotion pockets. And there is nothing bad with that perhaps. We have a choice and the freedom to search for a good story anytime we need it. If someone is offering us one we gladly take it because stories are how we remember. Everyone’s life is a story on its own. It has a start, a middle and an end. We tend to forget bullet points and lists, although they are easier to read. But remember twists and turns happening in a story, we remember vivid descriptions, characters and most importantly we remember what we felt. A good story pulls the strings of our emotions and touches us in a way that we remember.

Every person has a story to tell. If you are passionate about what you are doing you should tell your story and find a way to create meaning.

Cats or Dogs?

The cat stays in the front yard. She has all the space she needs. She is not on a leash. Never. She goes wherever she wants. She is being fed every evening. She also has food provided during the day.

The dog lives in the back yard. He has limited space. The back yard is small. He is on a leash when he goes for a walk. He is being fed every day, only in the evening. He does not have food during the day.

The cat lives better life. The humans love dogs more. Not every story is the same though.

Nothing is seen better than in comparison

I have been waiting too long to start writing. It is this typical fear that whatever I say it has been said already and I will just leave it inside my head. Well who knows I may add something new. There is so much but then when you sit down to write it it all becomes a big mess. That’s why experienced writers say you have to make it a habit to write, make a schedule, create a routine because this is work that needs to be done.

Changing scenery should help spark the creativity, but this is not all it takes to start pouring it onto the page right. No it’s not. I recently changed the scenery – moved to California – and this has not just manically boosted my creativity or desire to write. Something is just missing and I wonder if it’s my creativity or just my own willingness to sit down and write.

I used to write a lot especially when I was in high school and college. So I wonder what was different then that made me write and be inspired. I decided I need to compare my situation back then and state of mind to my current condition and analyze the difference to help myself become productive again. I think this will help me bring awaken my creative side because I think it’s just sleeping and may be getting rusty in fact. An it’s way too early for this. I am way to green to go rusty and squeaky.

Nothing is seen better than in comparison.