Writing My Mind.com

Brush Your Teeth!

2012-01-24T20:03:00.000-08:00

Brush your teeth
Good and well
Cause if you don’t
You’ll burn in hell.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Cathy Keifer
© All Rights Reserved

Guru

2012-01-08T00:01:00.000-08:00

"Where is the doorway to eternity? Where do you enter? Think on these things and we will continue our discussion next time,” the self-proclaimed self-help guru said at the end of the two-hour class: “Finding What You Never Lost,” held at the community senior center.

The guru climbed into his car and as he was backing out of the parking space he heard a familiar scraping sound and knew his front bumper had again caught on a parking lot bumper.

He shifted into park and climbed out of his car to push the left end of his ragged plastic bumper back into place. He’d done this many times before. “I ought to get it fixed,” he thought, but his income as a local guru and Social Security recipient was of a temporal nature.

“I am but a humble creature of the Earth,” he thought as he tried to open the car door. The car was still running and somehow, he’d locked himself out. “This is going to be embarrassing,” he contemplated.

~ Story & photo painting by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

My Cat

2011-12-30T11:46:00.000-08:00

O the quiet life of my cat,
The empty bliss of this is that.

~ Words and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Believing In Santa

2011-12-19T13:26:00.000-08:00

When I first told my children about Santa Claus, of course I knew there was no actual human being I was talking about. But I told my children he was real and would reward them for being good.

I didn’t care how they envisioned Santa, for there are so many variations of his image, all so innocent in spirit, lighthearted and loving. It didn’t matter. I didn’t care how they imagined he spent his time at the North Pole with Mrs. Claus, the elves and reindeer. It didn’t matter.

We all understood that Santa was real in a different way than our friends and neighbors were real. He was real in spirit, and so we could imagine all sorts of things about Santa and even read conflicting ideas about his life and accept them all without difficulty. After all, nobody really knew for sure.

The specific details of Santa’s existence were not important. It was the underlying truth, that there are larger reasons for good behavior, reasons that could last for a year or even longer. Santa was a power for goodness in the world who would bless you for your honest heart and punish those who were cruel and deceptive.

As a grownup, I replaced the idea of Santa with knowledge. I knew that honesty, no matter how unrecognized it may be among friends and family, fills your life with joy, the kind of joy that is free from shame and guilt. I also knew that those who are dishonest and mean, no matter how long their actions may go undetected, are immediately punished for their sins because of who they become. They have lost the heart of an innocent child.

Heaven and hell are here, and those who are evil live in a hell of their own making, the hell of their own existence, no matter how long they avoid punishment from others.

In this dangerous and unpredictable world there are so many good people who are so unjustly punished by life, by disease, natural disaster, political oppression or just everyday happenstance. Earth is a place where all things are possible, both good and bad. It has something to do with free will. But if we struggle against adversity with an honest heart, we will find higher ground.

So my children grew up believing in Santa, even though they did not keep him firmly in mind throughout the year. But they grew up believing that striving to be honest and good was the right way to live. And even though some of the children they knew did not believe in Santa, they did not fight with them. Some believed, some didn’t. It didn’t matter.

Most of the children who believed in Santa needed no proof. They accepted Santa as a matter of faith, buttressed by the occasional Christmas morning miracle of the missing cookies and nearly empty glass of milk. When my children began to seriously question the existence of Santa, I took them to an old stone church and we sat in a beautiful, vine-encrusted alcove and I explained that Santa was more than just one single person.

I told them Santa was the spirit of giving that lives in all of us who find joy in bringing happiness to others. I told them every department store Santa who gave joy to little children was filled with the spirit of Santa. I told them every parent who wrapped up a special gift with a card that said, “Love to you, from Santa!” was inspired by the spirit of Santa. I told them Santa was more magic than they imagined, that instead of being just one person, Santa was the spirit of kindness and love that filled the hearts of millions, especially at Christmas, and that we should keep his spirit alive every day of the year.

I told them that as we grow up, many of us replace the idea of Santa with the idea of God.

I told them the best parts of all religions were filled with this spirit, and that this is what so many people mean by the word God, that God is a force for honesty, kindness and love in the world. I told them it does not matter how we picture God or how we define God. As long as we fill our hearts with love and charity, then we are doing the work of God here on Earth.

I told them words and pictures are what we use to help us understand the spirit of Santa, the spirit of God, but the words and pictures are not what’s important. It is the meaning behind the words and pictures, the inspiration that fills each heart.

We are all imperfect, we all make mistakes and we all have times in our lives when we are so certain about things that we become blind to our errors. To fight each other over ideas about God is like trying to prove whose idea of Santa is the real idea. To fight each other over ideas of God is to be so certain that we have become blind to our own imperfection and capacity for error.

I told them some people forget that these stories are about meanings, not details. They are intended to open our hearts and help direct the course of our lives. It’s the message that's important, and what it says to each of us.

I told them to respect the religions of all cultures, that whatever ideas of God people believe in, if these ideas open their hearts and lead them toward honesty, compassion and love, then they are on the right path – all of them.

The details are not what’s important. We all speak different languages and have different ways of describing and understanding things. It’s the essence from which all explanations come that is important. That’s what faith is for, to keep the connection strong between ourselves and God because words are not enough.

We all have to start somewhere. Some of us start with Santa. The important thing is to realize that spiritual growth is like any other kind of growth – it requires change. The lessons we learn as children are for children. The lessons we learn at the beginning of our spiritual journeys are for beginnings. To grow a larger soul, we must not get stuck. We must not stop. We must keep going.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

1 Corinthians 13:11

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo: Christopher & Joshua Loar with Santa
© All Rights Reserved

Seek

2011-12-11T11:02:00.000-08:00

Seek questions, not answers.

~ Text and artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Filling

2011-12-07T08:10:00.000-08:00

When at last the lover leaves intensive care,
All is a fragile balance on the edge of relapse.
One must re-learn the enjoyment of simple things:

The bitter spark from a cup of coffee,
The sweetness of sugar on the tip of the tongue,
The penetrating warmth of the sun
Shimmering through the crisp afternoon breeze,
The pleasure of another hour,
Another day,
Filling, filling, filling
That dark and dangerous place
Where love was.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Maxine (aka: Maxxximpact)
© All Rights Reserved

Koan

2011-11-20T09:31:00.000-08:00

Those who believe in God, abandon God.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Sistine Chapel fresco by Michelangelo
© All Rights Reserved

Despair

2011-11-13T00:01:00.000-08:00

"Don’t do it!” I implored as the old lizard who had lost most of his tail stared wistfully into the frothy, swirling waters of the Jacuzzi.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Lizard painting by Robert Lennon
© All Rights Reserved

The Fallen

2011-11-08T11:10:00.000-08:00

E ven the fallen have grace.

~ Words and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Home

2011-10-30T11:53:00.000-07:00

H ome is a place in the heart.

~ Words and artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Time Travel

2011-10-09T09:45:00.000-07:00

If we could ever figure out how to travel backward in time, we’d have to get rid of the word “after.”

~ Words and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Ways We Lie

2011-10-02T00:01:00.000-07:00

"How’s the job going?”

“Fine, thanks.”

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by John Kounadeas
© All Rights Reserved

Meeting Slated

2011-09-25T00:01:00.000-07:00

The Inland Valley chapter of the Society For Clear Thinking will hold an all-day workshop on “How To Make Life Simple” from 10:20 a.m. to 5:47 p.m. Saturday, March 2, at an undisclosed location.

New members are required to attend an orientation session at 7:48 a.m., in the Thoreau Room of the Simple Gifts Meeting Hall at the Southern California College of Agronomy and Moral Certainty.

After the orientation, exit on Walden Avenue South, past Civil Disobedience Drive, then turn west on Emerson Road and make a U-turn at the third intersection past the green/black student dormitories (If you see the black/green student dormitories you’ve gone too far!), bearing to the right onto Harpers Ferry Way to Parking Lot 81, Section 26 (southeastern quadrant), next to the campus greenhouse.

Walk northeast on Campus Loop toward the Transcendental Arts Building, past the Hell No We Won’t Go food court, turning right at the Gandhi memorial bird bath. Walk straight ahead until you see the second unmarked bus stop and wait for bus No. 331, or 28-A if after 9:15 a.m., or any bus between H-9Q and 12 if after 9:33 a.m.

Exit the bus at Tolstoy Street and walk north on Tolstoy, past the King Cotton Laundromat (on the left) to the Thrifty Chick fried chicken restaurant (on the fourth, north-south corner of the traffic hexagon). Enter Thrifty Chick and say: “Sir Larry has come to collect the poll tax,” if the man at the counter is wearing a hat or an eye patch, or “The goslings weep for their mother” if there is another man without a hat and/or an eye patch, or a woman (mature, no eye patch), behind the counter.

You will be led to the rear of the shop and put into the cargo area of the Thrifty Chick delivery van whose driver will blindfold you and take you to my house where I will then drive you to the meeting. The workshop fee is $20 (stamps).

~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

The Fly

2011-09-20T09:58:00.000-07:00

H ere,
In this beautiful world,
A fly is trapped in my house.

Trapped.

It's buzzing madly against the window glass,
Certain there must be an opening,
Beckoned by the light of the outside world,
The outside world,
Just a fraction of an inch away,
An impenetrable fraction of an inch.

Here,
In this beautiful world,
Where all things are possible,
This Garden of Eden where life explodes,
Where love and hate contend,
Where joy, real joy is actually possible,
A fly is trapped in my window.

I get a clear plastic cup,
Reserved for such rescues,
And capture the exhausted creature,
Gently sliding a square of cardboard beneath
To prevent escape.

Here,
In this dangerous world,
Where evil survives and babies die,
A fly was trapped in my house,
And I opened the door
And I let it go.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Chris Ezelle aka Boogey Man
© All Rights Reserved

Living In A Tree

2011-09-18T18:38:00.000-07:00

I f the world were filled with people like me, I’d likely be living up in a tree.

~ Words, photograph and rat by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Heaven

2011-09-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

You must
find heaven
right where
you are.

~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Things

2011-09-09T00:01:00.000-07:00

O nce I was a magician like you and owned many things.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Stephen Hender
© All Rights Reserved

Ways We Lie

2011-09-04T00:01:00.000-07:00

“How are you?”

“Fine, thanks.”

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by John Kounadeas
© All Rights Reserved

No Regrets

2011-08-23T11:25:00.000-07:00

The butterfly does not miss being a caterpillar.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Kathy Hardy
© All Rights Reserved

Of This World

2011-08-11T09:51:00.000-07:00

We are not in this world. We are of this world.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Julie A. King
~ Edinburgh's Dark Side by Julie A. King
© All Rights Reserved

Pretense

2011-08-07T00:01:00.001-07:00

What you pretend to know,
closes your eyes to the truth.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Painting "Futile Regret" by Roberto Gonzalez Fernandez
© All Rights Reserved

My Revelation

2011-07-24T13:30:00.000-07:00

For me, this existence, "This," is eternity.

The kingdom of heaven, and hell, and everything else in-between is at hand. Right here. Right now.

Whatever is past and whatever may come, This moment is all about how far along I am as an eternal soul, an eternal being, an eternal something or another, names and labels being limited as they are.

This is my revelation.

So many of us believe heaven is somewhere else, a reward for a life well-spent, our ethereal home where there will be no more strife and struggle.

But what if we died and awoke in heaven and it was a place just like Earth, where we inhabited physical bodies and had to put our spirituality to the test in a physical world of human interaction and social evolution? We might very well doubt we had entered the kingdom of God.

For me, entering the kingdom of God is about awakening, seeing what has always been here. And for me, hell is also here. Wherever there is the possibility of heaven, there is the possibility of hell. It has something to do with free will.

This is my revelation.

I do not know where I will be after my body dies. Perhaps “I” and “where” will no longer apply. Nevertheless, today, I am in heaven. I cannot imagine a more heavenly miracle than the persistence of life, hope and love on this planet, here among the uninhabitable planets of our solar system. I cannot imagine a more heavenly miracle than the birth of a child.

Here in heaven, you put a small seed into the ground and it comes back flowers.

~ By Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Maxine (aka: maxxximpact)
© All Rights Reserved

A Lie

2011-07-24T13:10:00.000-07:00

I was playing with a baseball I’d found in my front yard when two older boys walked up to me.

One of them said, “That’s my baseball. I hit it over here all the way from the park.”

The park was about three miles away, but I was seven years old and I believed him. I gave him the baseball. The two boys walked away down the sidewalk laughing.

Lying in bed that night, thinking over the events of the day, I realized those boys were laughing because they had told me a lie and I believed them. They were laughing at me.

I decided I wouldn't be so stupid next time. Despite my decision, more than 50 years later I’m still surprised how skillfully people can lie.

~ By Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Sainthood

2011-07-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

The road to sainthood is paved with sin.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Carly Short
© All Rights Reserved

Alternate Endings

2011-07-06T16:25:00.000-07:00

On center stage is a large, green chalkboard mounted on a wooden swivel frame. Standing stage right is geeky Lab Coat Man wearing a white lab coat with many pens in his pocket protector. He’s wearing oversized black oval glasses and holding a long wooden pointer. On stage left, next to the chalkboard, is the six-foot Toucan wearing a large striped tie. He has a giant yellow beak he uses rhythmically when he dances. A door is visible in the background.

The Italian song “Zooma, Zooma”
(ctrl-shift-click for song with Firefox ~ or just click)
starts up with a vamp, waiting for Lab Coat Man to begin his song. He begins to sing, pointing to the lyrics on the blackboard as he sings them in an Italian accent while Toucan dances gaily in place.

LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a tie shop, buy a tie for toucan too. (Music vamps – Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a tie shop and he wear a tie like you. ♫

More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of loud knocking becomes apparent, as if from an adjacent wall or ceiling. It’s Angry Neighbor shouting muffled complaints that cannot be heard clearly.

LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a pie shop, buy some pie for toucan too. (Music vamps, Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a pie shop and he eat some pie like you. ♫

More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of knocking grows louder and Angry Neighbor’s voice becomes more furious.

Lab Coat Man flips the blackboard over where the words of the chorus are written in large letters for the audience to sing along.

LAB COAT MAN: Everybody sing! ♫ Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a piece of pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a piece of pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a piece of pie. Ay, yi, yi – ♫

Suddenly, Angry Neighbor bursts through the door and points a gun at Toucan while the music abruptly slows down and stops with the sound of a needle scratching across the surface of a record.

ANGRY NEIGHBOR: I told you! No pets!

Angry Neighbor shoots Toucan with a gun that ejects a red flag upon which the word “Bang!” is written. Toucan grabs his chest, swoons and attempts to hold on to the blackboard, then collapses on the floor.

Lab Coat Man pulls out a gun from his pants pocket and shoots Angry Neighbor. His gun also ejects a red flag with the word “Bang!” written on it. Angry Neighbor grabs his chest as Toucan did and collapses behind Toucan.

The song, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” begins to play while Lab Coat Man bends over the dying Toucan.

LAB COAT MAN: (After mournful consideration of Toucan, holding his wing, looking into his eyes) You’re the last toucan Angry Neighbor will ever shoot–on this planet anyway!

TOUCAN: (Looking lovingly at Lab Coat man with raised head, then as he lowers his head, with his dying breath) Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

LAB COAT MAN: (Standing up and turning toward the audience) Now, the alternate ending!

Lab Coat Man and Toucan resume their places while Angry Neighbor leaves the stage. The scene repeats. "Zooma, Zooma" begins to play.

LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a tie shop, buy a tie for toucan too. (Music vamps, Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a tie shop and he wear a tie like you. ♫

More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of loud knocking becomes apparent, as if from an adjacent wall or ceiling. It’s Angry Neighbor shouting muffled complaints that cannot be heard clearly.

LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a pie shop, buy some pie for toucan too. (Music vamps, Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a pie shop and he eat some pie like you. ♫

More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of knocking grows louder and Angry Neighbor’s voice becomes more furious.

Lab Coat Man flips the blackboard over where the words of the chorus are written in large letters for the audience to sing along.

LAB COAT MAN: Everybody sing! ♫ Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a piece of pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a piece of pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a piece of pie. Ay, yi, yi – ♫

Suddenly, Angry Neighbor bursts through the door.

ANGRY NEIGHBOR: You’re having a party and I wasn’t invited?

LAB COAT MAN: Why of course you’re invited. The party hasn’t started yet. We were just rehearsing!

There’s a loud knocking at the door. Lab Coat Man opens the door and Pizza Delivery Boy enters.

PIZZA DELIVERY BOY: One extra-large banana pizza to go!

Lab Coat Man, Toucan and Angry Neighbor all look at one another for a moment, then burst out laughing while the “Zooma, Zooma” vamp begins again. They all sing the chorus together.

LAB COAT MAN: Come on everybody! Sing along!

All begin to sing, while singing offstage actors costumed as slices of pizza dance onto the stage.

EVERYONE SINGS AND CLAPS: ♫ Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. ♫

Singing continues until audience enthusiasm begins to wane as actors leave the stage. Then the music is abruptly slowed and stopped as before with the sound of a needle scratching across the surface of a record. Angry Neighbor pulls out a machine gun.

ANGRY NEIGHBOR: Wait a minute! I told you no pets!

Angry Neighbor shoots Lab Coat Man and Toucan in a barrage of fire. Their bodies shake as they are riddled with bullets, then crumple to the ground. Angry Neighbor surveys the carnage, then blows smoke from the barrel of his machine gun, grabs a piece of pizza and exits through the door.

Curtain

~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Play It!

2011-07-03T17:58:00.000-07:00

At some point, you’ve got to stop tuning your guitar and play the damn thing.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo of Russ in 1971
© All Rights Reserved

The Meek

2011-06-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

The meek may indeed inherit the Earth,

But they will not explore it.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Escobar Studios
© All Rights Reserved

Lights

2011-06-19T13:24:00.000-07:00

Without love,
Some kind,
Any kind of crazy love,
The lights are out
All over town.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Julie A. King
© All Rights Reserved

This World

2011-06-08T00:01:00.000-07:00

For every bird that dies,

There’s another bird that flies.

~ Poem & photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Poetry

2011-06-02T00:01:00.001-07:00

I n poetry, the writing is the thing that comes last.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Birdsong

2011-05-31T00:01:00.000-07:00

Even the finest words fall away in early morning birdsong.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Who is the artist of this painting?
© All Rights Reserved

Imagine Your Life

2011-05-22T00:02:00.000-07:00

If you are not living the life you imagined,
imagine the life you are living.

~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

I Knew A Young Man

2011-05-15T19:02:00.000-07:00

I knew a young man
Who drank warm water
Right from the faucet,
From his cupped hand.

Everything he did,
An act of defiance,
An act of strength,
His way through the world.

They sent him to the war
And he didn’t last a week.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

The Universe

2011-04-28T00:01:00.000-07:00

The universe is not the product of an intelligent being, the universe is an intelligent being.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by the NASA Spitzer Space Telescope
© All Rights Reserved

The Snoots:Easter Brunch at the Country Club

2011-04-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

"The buffet was satisfactory,

but the valet service was just dreadful!”

~ Text & Jesus insertion by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

One Cup Of Coffee

2011-04-03T00:01:00.000-07:00

S o many of us are struggling,
Tormented by work and money,
Dysfunctional families,
Disease and decadence,
Political injustice,
Weather,
Inertia.

Yet each morning,
After only one cup of coffee,
I am glad to be alive
One more day.

~ Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Christian René aka runnerfrog
© All Rights Reserved

Baboon-ed!

2011-03-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

M ethinks
These be baboon-ed days.
For want of suck this curv-ed fruit I entreat.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo from Mongabay.com
© All Rights Reserved

The Boundaries Of Heaven

2011-03-11T12:18:00.000-08:00

We draw the boundaries of heaven
Around the spaces of ourselves,
Marked off by threat
And bluster,
As if heaven were a place
Unwelcome.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph from Wikimedia Commons
© All Rights Reserved

2011-02-23T00:51:00.000-08:00

"What is hello?"

~ Answer box, phone insert & text by Russ Allison Loar
~ Alex Trebek photo from Life Magazine
© All Rights Reserved

Cultural Somnambulism

2011-02-11T13:20:00.000-08:00

The switch was made, yet amazingly, no one noticed the horn.

~ Text & horn morph by Russ Allison Loar
~ Painting by Leonardo da Vinci
© All Rights Reserved

This

2011-02-04T18:48:00.000-08:00

The profound question:
What happens after we die?

What a surprise,
If this,
Is it.

~ Text & photograph by Russ Allison Loar
~ Click on photo to enlarge!
© All Rights Reserved

At The Circus

2010-12-27T13:09:00.000-08:00

W hat was I thinking?

Too eager to accept a dare? Afraid to back down?

How absurd it all seems now, balancing on this wire so incredibly high above the crowd.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Jolantasketch
© All Rights Reserved

How Far?

2010-12-07T11:05:00.000-08:00

How far is infinity from here?

~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Somewhere There Is A Boy

2010-10-18T13:12:00.000-07:00

Somewhere there is a boy
Dreaming of a horse,
A horse of his own,
A part of his soul,
A horse he would ride
Through fields and meadows,
Through shadowed woods,
A horse he would greet each morning,
Spend all day with,
Kiss goodnight.

Somewhere there is a boy
Dreaming of horse,
A horse like the one I see here,
Standing in a muddy pen,
Looking wistfully out at me
As I walk by,
This horse,
Alone all day long,
Dreaming of a boy.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Horse painting by Jessica McMahon
© All Rights Reserved

Monster Trucks and Sausages

2010-10-10T12:20:00.000-07:00

S omeone gave me free tickets to the monster truck show at the county fair, entitling me to be among the privileged few to witness a huge, elevated truck smash into a motor home.

As I chewed on the tougher parts of my fat-laden giant sausage, I surveyed the enthusiastic monster truck audience, watched them cheer for the wheelie-popping trucks, and mused on just how fragile our participatory democracy truly is.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by FlagWorld.com
~ From My Incarnation.com
© All Rights Reserved

Tuesday

2010-09-26T15:42:00.000-07:00

I found a piece of paper in a parking lot.

It had been run over numerous times, torn and trampled, faded by the sun and still damp from a light morning mist.

Because I was not in a hurry; because I was not wearing earbuds and distracted by music; because I was not staring at a cell phone screen; because I was not talking to anyone; because everything has design, color, shape and texture, I picked up the square piece of paper.

It had been some kind of glossy, card-stock advertisement for a nightclub, probably stuck under the windshield wiper of a parked car long ago.

Looking closer, I saw the face of my lost love, a strand of her curly long auburn hair falling across her bare thin shoulder and finely sculpted collar bone.

She was smiling and looking skyward, as if she could see all the way to heaven.

That was Tuesday.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by a parking lot
© All Rights Reserved

The Truth

2010-09-09T12:16:00.000-07:00

The truth has always been here, long before it was written about, long before theology, long before philosophy.

The wisest among us are interpreters, but the truth is eternal and cannot be changed by the interpretations of human beings.

~ Text & photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Wake Up!

2010-08-02T13:11:00.000-07:00

At some point, you must set aside what you want to happen and realize what is actually happening.

~ Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph from Christopher Markman's photo gallery
© All Rights Reserved

There's Always A Price

2010-07-21T13:48:00.000-07:00

You dream of flying, but if your wish were granted, the freedom of flight would be paid for with the solemnity of survival.

~ Russ Allison Loar
~ "Freedom" painting by Dorothea Hyde
© All Rights Reserved

Questions

2010-07-18T02:30:00.000-07:00

The wisest people I know are full of questions.

~ Text & photograph by Russ Allison Loar
~ Click here to listen to "Questions" at Russ Loar Music.com
© All Rights Reserved

All Of Us

2010-07-01T08:42:00.001-07:00

Fathers and Sons

2010-06-28T10:24:00.000-07:00

Prayers

2010-06-21T04:40:00.000-07:00

An Employee's Prayer

2010-06-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

Kids Need Discipline!

2010-06-15T13:21:00.000-07:00

Just A Joke

2010-06-12T11:04:00.000-07:00

Love Is The Filter

2010-06-03T11:19:00.000-07:00

When I was young and didn't need glasses to read, I saw every speck of dirt and dust.

Now that I'm older, there is a filter in my eyes that makes everything look so much cleaner.

Life On The Moon?

2010-06-01T01:40:00.001-07:00

M y grandfather Herman Allison, born August 4, 1885, in Morgan's Mill, Texas, once told me that when he was a schoolboy, a topic for debate was: "Is the moon inhabited?"

~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
~ From My Incarnation.com
© All Rights Reserved

Popeye

2010-02-16T00:01:00.001-08:00

Dear Sirs,

I am Popeye, the sailor man. Although it pains me deeply to admit it, I do, in fact, live in a garbage can. Despite my impoverished habitat due to temporary setbacks too numerous to mention at this time, let me assure you that I will, nevertheless, be strong to the finish, because I “eats” me spinach, because, all in all, when push comes to shove, at the core of my being, I am still Popeye, the sailor man.

Regards,

P.S. Man

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Illustration from Wikimedia.org
© All Rights Reserved

Ways We Lie

2010-02-14T13:19:00.000-08:00

Holding On

2010-02-03T04:23:00.000-08:00

What can we hold onto?
When everything changes,
When everything passes,
When the years recreate who we are,
Sometimes lifting us,
Sometimes tearing us apart.

O love,
The clichéd word so easily pronounced,
The greeting card verse
Spoken without feeling,
O love,
If kept alive and breathing . . .

There is so much to love in this world.
Even when you are old and confined
You can love a memory.
Even when memories fall away
You can love an idea.
Even when cognition falters,
When fear invades,
When the dark idea of godless death threatens,
Believe!

Hold onto love,
However untranslatable it may seem.
Love will persist.
You will be saved.

~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Sharon Pruitt ~ Pink Sherbet Photography
© All Rights Reserved

Kid Stuff ~ For Young Carnivores

2010-01-30T13:18:00.000-08:00

I'm a little teapot
Short and stout,
Kick me in the rear
And step on my snout.

I'm a little teapot
Fat and wide,
Take me to the slaughterhouse
And cut off my hide!

~ Poem & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Poets

2010-01-14T16:38:00.000-08:00

Christmas Blessings

2009-12-25T13:16:00.000-08:00

Dear Yolanda,

Thanks for the candle. You said you made it yourself?

I lit it last night after turning off the television, watching the flickering flame spark and dance so beautifully in the darkened room as I lay on the couch, slipping into that place between wakefulness and sleep where the angels whisper. As I listened, saying my prayers, mesmerized by the candlelight, I dropped off to sleep.

The next thing I heard was the plaintive wail of fire engine sirens as I startled awake to the smell of burning curtains. I'd left your beautiful candle too close to the window and the entire south wall of my house was engulfed in flames.

I shook my wife awake. We hastily grabbed a few things and rushed from the house. The firemen worked hard, knocking down the flaming wall to reduce the spread of the fire, but unfortunately the attic was also on fire. We have so many boxes of flammable stuff packed away up there the flames erupted like a thousand angry torches.

There was very little the firemen could do at this point, other than try and protect our neighbors' homes. The house closest to us (the east side) which belongs to the wonderful blind couple, did suffer some roof damage, but fortunately the firemen put it out quickly. After talking to our neighbors this morning, we learned they unfortunately suffered considerable damage to their carpet and furniture from the fire hose water and rain. Though we've known and loved this elderly couple for nearly 20 years, they said they can no longer talk to us, on advice from their attorney who we will be hearing from shortly.

Cheryl and I are now living at the Howard Johnson's in Pomona. It's not like home, and the people in the next room seem to be continually fighting and shouting, but it's the cheapest motel in the area. We found a few empty syringes in the bathroom, the carpet has quite a few nasty-looking stains and the wallpaper in this room is peeling, but we are just grateful to have a roof over our heads at this point.

I managed to get my laptop computer out of the house and I have internet access here, but it's hard to concentrate on this e-mail, what with the terror of last night continually replaying in my mind. This room smells like smoke, although it's probably coming from our own skin. My wife inhaled so much smoke she has to wear a breathing mask with a portable oxygen tank because of her chronic respiratory problems. We haven't had any sleep since the fire and we don't have any clean clothing.

I called the insurance company this morning and for some reason I had not received my renewal notice, so unfortunately I find that my homeowner's insurance has lapsed. I'm afraid this means our house and possessions are a total loss. We lost our cars in the fire as well. Because the electric garage door motor was wearing out and would not open in cold weather, we did not have time to get our cars out of the garage. The Mercedes was a few years old, so at least I got some fun out of that car, but it is unfortunate that Cheryl had recently purchased her beautiful new Lexus -- full payment in cash. We're hoping the discount insurance coverage for the car will cover part of the loss, but I do worry about doing business with a company based in Bolivia.

I'll have to take out a loan to have the debris of our once beautiful home removed so I can try and sell the vacant lot to a developer, but in these hard times for real estate, it will be practically impossible to get any money out of this property to make much of a dent in the amount I still owe on the home. I'm not sure if I can even get a loan at this point. Bankruptcy may be the best option for us. Unfortunately, we are still locked into a flexible-rate mortgage and our interest rate has risen to slightly more than 12 percent. We were barely able to keep up with the payments as things were.

I wish I'd made a backup copy of my book! I was really counting on this book to move my career forward. The only copies were on computer discs and paper -- all reduced to ashes. The main copy was stored on my desktop computer which was also destroyed. It's not the sheer length of the work that bothers me (about 280,000 words) as much as the length of time it took to do the research, what with all that travel to foreign countries that I'm still paying off on my Visa card. I'd never put this much work into a book before, and I'm afraid I'm too old to repeat what has been a 12-year labor of love.

We were hoping to sell some of the antique furniture and paintings we recently inherited from my family's estate that we'd stored in the house, but nothing is salvageable. And so many things accumulated from 35 years of marriage and from both of our families can, of course, never be replaced. I hate to think about all the wonderful photographs we'll never see again. At least we have our memories!

Unfortunately, our two cats died in the fire, and of course, my wife is devastated. One of them was the cat my son Christopher (who is coming to stay with us for Christmas) grew up with. He was so looking forward to seeing his precious little kitty, Mr. Toodles, again. We'll have to call Chris today and break the news.

After reviewing my current financial situation, I've decided the best thing to do is to try and rent a decent trailer home for the holidays, as there are a few mobile home parks in the area that are not as dangerous as some. We're going to try and find a mobile home with an extra bedroom for Christopher who is due to arrive in a few days. I'm afraid all his presents also burned in the fire, but we know he will understand. I suppose I should not have put all that cash in his stocking! It was a surprise down payment for a condominium. I foolishly thought it would be fun for him to see what $80,000 in cash looked like! I was surprised that I qualified for that home equity loan, although I suppose it was because of the high interest rate I'm being charged.

It certainly will be an unusual Christmas for us, what with all of our carefully picked, expensive presents destroyed by the fire. We will just have to focus on the blessings of life itself and be grateful that we did not die in the fire -- only a few second-degree burns and smoke inhalation, although I'm afraid I may have broken my ankle while rushing to get out of the house. It is quite sore! The paramedics bandaged it last night but I refused to be taken to the hospital. I just could not face an emergency room after all I'd been through. Cheryl and I will take the bus to the clinic today. I'm using an old umbrella for a crutch.

We will simply have to learn to be grateful for what we have left, even though it probably means total financial disaster. Cheryl and I now realize we will have to give up the idea of retirement and return to the workforce to try and rebuild our lives. I've already contacted Wal-Mart and they say they are hiring! A light in the storm!

So, once again, dear Yolanda, thanks so much for the candle! It was so beautiful and sweet-smelling, and, in fact, it was one of the few things I managed to salvage from the fire. I have it lit now, near the window of our motel room that overlooks the laundry area. It casts such beautiful shadows against the curtains.

Merry Christmas,

Evolution

2009-12-15T13:15:00.000-08:00

In A Perfect World

2009-11-27T19:38:00.000-08:00

Heh, Heh, Heh

2009-11-03T13:13:00.000-08:00

L aura was breathing harder now, her head resting against George’s shoulder as they sat in his pickup truck at the drive-in movie. It was a long movie and she had been up since the crack of dawn. She was asleep.

"Looks like you managed to cut off our only escape route,” Princess Leia tongue-lashed the handsomely handsome Han Solo.

“Maybe you’d like it back in your cell, your highness!” Han rhetoricated mockingly.

“Aaagh!” Laura screamed, awakening to the sound of laser fire pontooning from the small metal speaker box hooked on the passenger side window.

“Laura, what’s wrong?”

“Oh George, I just had the most frightening dream of my life. I dreamed you were president and I was First Lady and a band of bearded evildoers blew up New York City!”

The End

2009-10-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

There was a blinding surge of light.

I didn’t even have time to pray.

Lost In The Desert

2009-08-25T11:38:00.000-07:00

I was in Egypt when I was 15, but it took many years for me to realize where I'd been and what I'd really seen.