Thursday, March 24, 2011
Characters of Fiction
When a person writes a novel of a certain era that person has to use the place and time. One can gather information what the main characters were like, whether they were wealthy or poor, whether they were crazy or sane, whether they were exploited or whether they had it very easy or too easy! The person gathers information especially of this period and it could be a very different period than our own, ancient Rome, Medieval Paris, or 19th century Indochina? The she could read all the history of the characters or if it is a famous one read the history that seems to be authentic. One can write part of the story to what these characters lived, what really happened one really can’t know exactly for sure. It is what others say is authentic hopefully in that period of time. Definitely, one has to add more than what one has read in the history of place and time, character(s), in most stories is written in biography of the author who wrote it, especially good if the character lives in the area or has lived there, he knowledge of the people, many times what they still eat, these things rarely change, the traditionally foods, the clothing, music, religions, military or agricultural, architectural knowledge-- whatever is talked about? The person, he or she can indulge greatly into her own biography or very little depending on the material or interest of where the story is going? One has the write of a female main character if one is male or male characters if one is female if one ones to write in the opposite sex? One can be an animal even a plant or even a forest, anything, but it has to be realistic. There are some writers that prefer that type of writing than writing stories that are really memoirs with their own expanded fantasy imagination. Yet, most classics are written in the first person memoir fantasy for one knows the most about the life one is living or lived.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Moments
These Passing Moments
Child of the moment gleaming from no where?....
From what wonder star galaxy bright swirling ....
the dim earth that sadly sells for a thin dime. ....
The coffin box there lies for all to see, but people....
just past it by hungry for strange wailing ghost with toys. ....
Where do you come from and where are you going?....
Did you know the grey showers outside are gleaming....
in sad rivers going no where but the boisterous sea.....
Child of the moment gleaming green from no where,....
the melody pours forth so refined disappearing to the space.....
A boy eleven with his instrument by an old church ....
playing much better than a professional on Easter Eve ....
as birds listened fascinated while others drifted to work.....
Later, Michio, a Japanese guy with sarong and tank top....
and a flowing beard playing his shakuhachi and drum....
~isn’t this what they loved, instead of so much television?....
The ocean was out there, as people suntanned,....
but the colorful playground was empty before us.....
There was a long conversation before us, but....
he had certainly a plane, then a train to catch….....
The long haired, bearded Japanese one was on a long trip....
to Macchu Picchu, then staying in ....Belize.... for the rest....
of the year in a rundown old cottage by the sea,....
eating fish and laying naked under naked stars....
with his childhood friends Miguel Suertes Blanco,....
and Bianca Rodriguez and their seven children....
in their tattered old clothes and rundown shanty....
by the blue curling river with abundant fish.....
Sitting under the shady green strumming the charango....
to long lost memories of olden songs his mother sang.....
There will be old Mariachi bands, Peruvian flutes,....
Faraway drumming as the purple rain falls.....
Laying there with the toucan and sliding snake....
on the old rustic hammock enjoying the breeze. ....
He will change his shade with the misty moon,....
and appear later as the frightful yellow leopard hidden....
deep in the cave shouting at the misty moon!....
Perhaps, he now never needs to return to ....Japan....? ....
.. ..
Child of the moment gleaming from no where?....
From what wonder star galaxy bright swirling ....
the dim earth that sadly sells for a thin dime. ....
The coffin box there lies for all to see, but people....
just past it by hungry for strange wailing ghost with toys. ....
Where do you come from and where are you going?....
Did you know the grey showers outside are gleaming....
in sad rivers going no where but the boisterous sea.....
Child of the moment gleaming green from no where,....
the melody pours forth so refined disappearing to the space.....
A boy eleven with his instrument by an old church ....
playing much better than a professional on Easter Eve ....
as birds listened fascinated while others drifted to work.....
Later, Michio, a Japanese guy with sarong and tank top....
and a flowing beard playing his shakuhachi and drum....
~isn’t this what they loved, instead of so much television?....
The ocean was out there, as people suntanned,....
but the colorful playground was empty before us.....
There was a long conversation before us, but....
he had certainly a plane, then a train to catch….....
The long haired, bearded Japanese one was on a long trip....
to Macchu Picchu, then staying in ....Belize.... for the rest....
of the year in a rundown old cottage by the sea,....
eating fish and laying naked under naked stars....
with his childhood friends Miguel Suertes Blanco,....
and Bianca Rodriguez and their seven children....
in their tattered old clothes and rundown shanty....
by the blue curling river with abundant fish.....
Sitting under the shady green strumming the charango....
to long lost memories of olden songs his mother sang.....
There will be old Mariachi bands, Peruvian flutes,....
Faraway drumming as the purple rain falls.....
Laying there with the toucan and sliding snake....
on the old rustic hammock enjoying the breeze. ....
He will change his shade with the misty moon,....
and appear later as the frightful yellow leopard hidden....
deep in the cave shouting at the misty moon!....
Perhaps, he now never needs to return to ....Japan....? ....
.. ..
Where Ships Return
Where Ships Return ....
With these escaping fragments, place them in harbors....
where ships return with future possibilities.....
Light house beacons that docks castaways....
on sandy beaches where there is a fair sky mirror.....
The possibility of these rising cliffs ....
green lagoons of childhood lost sea horses,....
broken ships decks, pink corals, sandy crabs,....
loud distance conches, violet swirled shells. ....
In the dark brown bamboo hut where....
laying there in moments that are hours.....
A fresh sunlit room speaks for itself,....
a room of rainy languid showers....
as spirited ghost dance their forgotten history.....
opening and closing of doors, feeling space.....
To know the possibility of islands....
and far stretches of the tumultuous horizons. ....
Knowing the long corridors of voices and chords....
strung down empty candle lighted halls, ....
as trumpets blare out over the orchestra of viols.....
This is the bare heart fulfilling water wheel,....
in light filled breathings ~ writing on empty tables,....
sequence toward no failures, in dark apertures of rain.....
A folded chair beside umbrella, bag with fountains pens,....
folders of sheets and three classics, writing on the sandy....
waves, star of the noon breeze ~ perfumed horizon.....
Children’s laughter amidst the sandcastles, orange blaze....
of sun, indigo sleepy night fading sound traffic....
Water timbre spoken to the talisman of dreams,....
waiting in anxious surprises in cool room flowing daze. ....
With these escaping fragments, place them in harbors....
where ships return with future possibilities.....
Light house beacons that docks castaways....
on sandy beaches where there is a fair sky mirror.....
The possibility of these rising cliffs ....
green lagoons of childhood lost sea horses,....
broken ships decks, pink corals, sandy crabs,....
loud distance conches, violet swirled shells. ....
In the dark brown bamboo hut where....
laying there in moments that are hours.....
A fresh sunlit room speaks for itself,....
a room of rainy languid showers....
as spirited ghost dance their forgotten history.....
opening and closing of doors, feeling space.....
To know the possibility of islands....
and far stretches of the tumultuous horizons. ....
Knowing the long corridors of voices and chords....
strung down empty candle lighted halls, ....
as trumpets blare out over the orchestra of viols.....
This is the bare heart fulfilling water wheel,....
in light filled breathings ~ writing on empty tables,....
sequence toward no failures, in dark apertures of rain.....
A folded chair beside umbrella, bag with fountains pens,....
folders of sheets and three classics, writing on the sandy....
waves, star of the noon breeze ~ perfumed horizon.....
Children’s laughter amidst the sandcastles, orange blaze....
of sun, indigo sleepy night fading sound traffic....
Water timbre spoken to the talisman of dreams,....
waiting in anxious surprises in cool room flowing daze. ....
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Out Sourcing
Outsourcing.
2/25/11
The other day I was thinking of jobs and how they are displaced. Since I am into music I thought of that first. In the old days there was more musicians employed for there was no recording systems. The pit orchestras in theatre I was thinking of. It was in the 80’s when there was Muszak and that kind of music required musicians to take a popular song many times and play it easy listening. Not only was a musician needed to play it but another to arrange it. There was arranger of this music that would take the song of the day or older one and make their own. There were songs that were easy listening enough and needed little arrangement. It died out, with a few years, but at one time there were four stations with this music. At the end I remember there was very great Christmas arrangement. John Lennon use to listen to easy listening as he did his chores around the house and mention that the only Beatles songs they played were very popular ones, there were so many good ones ignored.
It wasn’t too much later that cds came into music and they were three times more expensive than records and sat in small bind besides mostly records. I thought it is ridiculous the price of the cds because most people that buy them are teenagers and they don’t have that kind of money. I was a teenager myself at the time. Some smart ass teenager at the time told me, “most people make twenty dollars an hour.” The computers became very sophisticated and the teenagers and others decided why they should pay anything at all? Now, musicians have to find another way to make money, has gotten harder, going on concert tours. It is only the extremely popular and very insipid that makes the riches.
One hears it all the time the out sourcing to foreign countries jobs that could be American. More technological systems that humans are not needed and I removed for machines that do their jobs. Like recently, the toll takers were removed for machines. They have to find another job in a country with little jobs. The televisions, computers, clothing are made overseas for they make more money in the labour more people out of work. In the 80’s there was still clothing many times made in the states, as the years gets on there is nothing. They think these unemployed people will find something out there. There is no concern for the people but only how much money can be made! They want to make the country one of nonproducers, only the wealthy manipulating the system to make the largest sum of cash.
Education surely is a source to a better life, but that doesn’t necessarily fix the problem that many times the job can’t be found, not only in the humanities which is harder hit, but in business, etc. The business goes bad, like all those that flounder under and the person is unemployed for years, if he or she has bad luck. What one thinks will be prosperous isn’t, and what one thinks wont is prosperous, many times this happens, be yourself!!!
2/25/11
The other day I was thinking of jobs and how they are displaced. Since I am into music I thought of that first. In the old days there was more musicians employed for there was no recording systems. The pit orchestras in theatre I was thinking of. It was in the 80’s when there was Muszak and that kind of music required musicians to take a popular song many times and play it easy listening. Not only was a musician needed to play it but another to arrange it. There was arranger of this music that would take the song of the day or older one and make their own. There were songs that were easy listening enough and needed little arrangement. It died out, with a few years, but at one time there were four stations with this music. At the end I remember there was very great Christmas arrangement. John Lennon use to listen to easy listening as he did his chores around the house and mention that the only Beatles songs they played were very popular ones, there were so many good ones ignored.
It wasn’t too much later that cds came into music and they were three times more expensive than records and sat in small bind besides mostly records. I thought it is ridiculous the price of the cds because most people that buy them are teenagers and they don’t have that kind of money. I was a teenager myself at the time. Some smart ass teenager at the time told me, “most people make twenty dollars an hour.” The computers became very sophisticated and the teenagers and others decided why they should pay anything at all? Now, musicians have to find another way to make money, has gotten harder, going on concert tours. It is only the extremely popular and very insipid that makes the riches.
One hears it all the time the out sourcing to foreign countries jobs that could be American. More technological systems that humans are not needed and I removed for machines that do their jobs. Like recently, the toll takers were removed for machines. They have to find another job in a country with little jobs. The televisions, computers, clothing are made overseas for they make more money in the labour more people out of work. In the 80’s there was still clothing many times made in the states, as the years gets on there is nothing. They think these unemployed people will find something out there. There is no concern for the people but only how much money can be made! They want to make the country one of nonproducers, only the wealthy manipulating the system to make the largest sum of cash.
Education surely is a source to a better life, but that doesn’t necessarily fix the problem that many times the job can’t be found, not only in the humanities which is harder hit, but in business, etc. The business goes bad, like all those that flounder under and the person is unemployed for years, if he or she has bad luck. What one thinks will be prosperous isn’t, and what one thinks wont is prosperous, many times this happens, be yourself!!!
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