A little blurb taken from my writing notebook:
The job of the poet is to remember our dreams, the dreams we forget when we awake each morning. Outlaws are not members of society but they may be important to society. Poets remember our dreams, outlaws act them out. Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as it's accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should vow to aid and abet. Loving makes love. Love makes itself, like a snake swallowing it's tail. We waste time looking for the perfect lover instead of creating the perfect love. Wouldn't that be the way to make love stay?
I'm looking for the woman who will follow me to the ends of the earth. Any outlaws out there? Of course the earth has no ends, Christopher Columbus fixed that.
My Interests: Health and fitness, tennis, golf, squash, weekend trips to the gulf islands, beaches, streams, making art movies, surrealism
classical- big band- classic rock music, photography, theme parties, dinner parties, family days, philosophy, psychology, finding the love of my life.