08.30.01

Yes, my entries here have been sporadic.

Why?

My life has been sporadic. No, wait. Life is consistent.

Let me rephrase that.

My ability to handle the challenges life presents has been sporadic.

The last few days have been frightening due to challenges of the unknown, pain and the blackness that comes from fear.

One moment, I am a lioness ready to fight the good fight and battle the demons that have crossed the gates of my existence.

The next moment, I am a whimpering kitten hiding in the corner offering prayers to any God that will listen ... pleading for respite.

Yes, sporadic responses to a life steeped in and soaked through with inconsistency.

08.22.01

She never ceases to amaze me. Her spirit is remarkable. Tenacious beyond reproach.

She is my friend.

We laugh together. That is rare and treasured.

And now, my friend ... sweet Suzn ... has brought her perspective into view ...

... quite beautifully: soft, elegant, and graceful.

However, Suzn may claim that she is "Out of Focus".

To me, she is always "sharpening the lens".

Brava my sweet friend, brava.

08.19.01

I am going to revisit a subject that I wrote about on April 7th of this year.

Why?

Because the subject needs to be spoken about. Again, again and again.

The sun.

So beautiful, so strong, so necessary for the existence of all living things ...

... so dangerous.

On August 8th, Maureen Reagan (daughter of former President Ronald Reagan) passed away from cancer. Skin cancer.

Melanoma.

Quoting an article in the American Academy of Dermatology:

     "Sun exposure is the most preventable risk factor for melanoma. The American Academy of Dermatology estimates that 80 percent of sun damage occurs before age 18. Ms. Reagan publicly admitted her days of lying in the sun and tanning in her youth. She realized that this behavior could have been prevented and used her experiences to educate others about the dangers of overexposure to the sun."

Ms. Reagan campaigned for skin cancer awareness. She was a champion of those with Alzheimer's Disease.

I do not have the public voice afforded Ms. Reagan.

My simple words only reach a small few.

But as a woman who has dealt with, and deals with every day, the affects of melanoma (as the result of my sun exposure as a child, teen and young woman) ... I implore you to remember in these dog days of summer to wear sun screen year round, stay covered and in the shade, protect your children, avoid sunburn, and most important ...

... check yourself from scalp to toes for suspicious moles, freckles, or spots that do not seem to heal. Get them checked immediately. Early detection can indeed save your life.

And so to Maureen Reagan, thank you for the exemplary life you led.

You madam, will be missed by so many. Rest in peace.

08.16.01

If I could record a long, dramatic sigh and place it online for you all to hear ... I would.

Perhaps.

However, I cannot.

And perhaps that is best because in each of our lives, our paths are replete with obstacles that seem insurmountable ...

... life throws us curves that seem unmanageable.

So my sigh would only be one echo of frustration in the hundreds of thousands that are sighed moment by moment.

Fear not for me, friends.

I am still living life with sweet aspirations.

Alas, I am being pulled in many directions as of late.

As I mentioned below (08-10), many factors are influencing my life right now. Far too many of them disallow my free time to be spent online ... surfing, reading and enjoying that which I have deemed "my internet".

To those of you who have written email in the past few weeks, I beg your indulgence just a while longer. You will hear from me.

Meanwhile, life is keeping me guessing.

One moment, the news I receive is good and I want to fly on the wing of the desert crow ... shining black feathers against the white summer sky making a statement of strength and perseverance.

The next moment, the news crushes my heart and wounds my spirit ... like a fallen dove seeking respite in the cool shade of the mesquite.

Living sweet aspirations. What else can one do?

Except perhaps ... to sigh.

08.10.01

Whoa, five days away from my journal.

Five days away from surfing the various weblogs and journals. 8+ days worth of personal email that have been left unanswered.

Where does the time go?

I just made a quick visit to my list o' links:

• I have learned that I have missed some birthdays (to you all, belated but happy wishes).

• Some of you have wonderfully creative redesigns (where do you find the energy and time?).

• I have learned that some people who were on hiatus/vacation/M.I.A. are now back whilst others are now gone to hiatus status, M.I.A. or out-n-about vacationing.

My own absence from this cyberland has been due to many factors.

These factors include duties as a pet owner, daughter, business partner, sister, computer geek, confidant ... and so much more.

I have been required to drive endless hours through barren desert for a 15 minute meeting with a client to hold their hand in making a very inexpensive decision. But hey, that is my job. That is what I do.

The same trip allowed me to claim that "I have been to California in 2001" due to missing the exit to Yuma and driving across the interstate bridge of the Colorado River and hence, entering California.

Of course, there was the immediate exit ramp to entry ramp turn around but none the less, I have been to The Golden State.

In addition, I was given a truckload (18-wheeler not Ford F150) of webpage updates to do for a client. While this is never a problem, it appeared that there were some "issues" with the files. Triple time (no, not billable) versus simple updates.

Time, time, and more time.

Where does it go?

08.04.01

It is late. Long after midnight.

I sit here listening to the white noise of summer: air conditioning fans, ceiling fans and oscillating desktop fans.

The movement of air against itself ... pushing back ... resisting the spinning blade and propelling forward.

Unconsciously I attempt to catch a single strand of hair caught on the artificial breeze and dancing against my cheek. It tickles and teases. Much like the summer rain against the desert.

I am feeling deeply introspective tonight however cannot bring myself to look where I am going.

As I blink my eyes against strain and need for slumber, my vision rests upon a shiny particle of dust illuminated in the glow of the desk lamp.

It too, dances on the wind tunnel I have created.

If hair and dust can dance tonight, why then am I earthbound and laden with weight?

I yearn to slip the bonds of gravity to dance on the wind: weightless and free from restraint.