The sketchbook project

Whilst my childhood friend helps Mom learn Windows 10 and Office 2016, I meditate.

I meditate upon my love for others, which used to spring forth from a tiny well but now that I know the well never runs dry I give love without end.

To my friends.

My family.

A love I used to keep to myself because of fears, worries that I wouldn’t fit in if others knew what I let people do to me un/willingly.

But now I know otherwise.

We live, and in living we gather memories that aren’t always pleasant but pleasantness and happiness aren’t the only colours on our palette.

We are deep hues, shades of visible light reflection and quantum entanglement.

I am me because of you.

My love is endless because you’re in my life, then, now, forever woven into the history of our species, reaching out into the cosmos.

My love is endless because I stopped asking why.

Ten minutes

Ten minutes at the end of a meal break,

Ten minutes alone at work,

Ten minutes surrounded by virtual friends,

Nine minutes to recognise my depression,

Eight minutes to ask why I don’t cry anymore,

Seven minutes to know why I laugh and smile,

Six minutes to listen to cicadas,

Six minutes to let go of the past,

Six minutes to breathe at last,

Five minutes to pace the carpark,

Five minutes to think of the future,

Five minutes to remember moments like this,

Four minutes to walk back inside,

Four minutes to plan out the rest of the work shift,

Three minutes to notice hums in the building, like a living being,

Three minutes to badge back in,

Three minutes to enter the break room, smell old meals,

Two minutes to look at newspaper adverts,

Two minutes to approach the time clock,

One minute to contemplate delayed decisions,

One minute to relax and post this poem.

Zero minutes, poem done!


As an experiment, over the last several months I tried to be cheerful, friendly, and helpful.

The act appear to have worked on many others.

However, I’m just as lonely, depressed and suicidal as ever.

Oh well…

I’ll just keep hiding under the false pretenses of a fairytale marriage.  That act still impresses people.  In fact, the more I tell it the less people see me!

No deus ex machina, although some have tried their darnedest to help.

A brief sketch…

Cup of hot tea, Bigelow English breakfast, brewing…

Any relation to Bigelow Aerospace?
If not, the mere thought of such links them…
Sets of states of energy in motion…
Like social media posts that link people who’ve never met…
The tea grower’s child growing up to love space and live aboard the BEAM module on the ISS…
Such fortune we find in quiet moments…
Contemplating possibilities.

Guest post by Ashleigh Brilliant, epigrammist extraordinaire

Dear Friends,

If you receive this, something must be working right.

If you don’t receive it, I suppose there’s no point in asking you to let me know.

My new Windows 10 computer is installed and running – but digesting all the accompanying changes is (to put it mildly) not easy.  Hardest of all, so far is the change of mail programs (from Eudora to Outlook).  And this first message to you, my email Friends, is a test of that part of the system.

So here’s hoping!

All the best,

Ashleigh Brilliant


In these wee morning hours, I choose either to text you directly or here in this blog when words I want to share with you more universally represent feelings toward a generic You rather than within the relationship we have.

But there’s also a fuzzy area.

For instance, me being childless, well, I admit for more than one reason I want you, most of all, to be the mother of our children — you’re kind, intelligent, multitalented, driven, career oriented, family centred, the list goes on and on.

But we’re socializers, spreading ourselves across many communities, sharing our love for humanity with as many people as we can. How would we raise kids with our travel/work schedules?
 Given our separate married lives, the issue of separation and divorce could play a big role, too.

More to write but I need sleep…zzzzz…