A Bit of a Writing <---> Effort

I'm trying to loosen up my synapses to pour out some fresh prose, but something seems to interrupt this process. What am I talking about, you ask? As Wendy would tease me, I could expound on what I mean in miles and miles of analytical prose to give you my life's history, background, and contextual understanding of the situation, but suffice to say: I am running low on ideas to write about.

Don't get me wrong - my imagination is still thriving. I can dream in brilliant colors (although Wendy takes the cake for quantity and vivid quality of dreams - it seems like one a night!), but I cannot seem to capture the essence of these sogni in a solitary moment. Perhaps the moments scream by, and my moments of solitary plentitude leave nothing but quiet reflection for the writing process. Perhaps these thoughts are only as good as the moment in which they arrive, to be lost forever as the Xanadu of my Samuel Taylor Coleridge existence. Perhaps it is my lack of focus and concentration on the task at hand which causes these dreams to vanish in the smoky confines of whatever chosen room. Whatever the reason, I seem stuck.

Never mind - this is an attempt to recover my imagination for purposes of fiction. Give it a shot, you know, because before I know it, the year will be over with nary a poem or short story to show for it. A bit of an effort writing, 'tis true, to get a bit of a writing effort.

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Everyday Love Poem to my Wife

Over a year of marriage carries Happiness, love, and sometimes cranberries But eventually the pace slows down, Work intrudes, some days a frown And suddenly the world has changed. What we must do is simply rearrange The days so that other things fit neatly In their own places, and move on sweetly To the beauties of the everyday together. Because there is love everywhere, wherever You shall be - and perhaps also Rosie - This is a good thing naturally, So good to state it thus and remember That only frigid mornings in November Can keep us apart, but only so long As the work day lasts because so strong Is our pact that I worry not a wink - Your loveliness is worth so much, I think.

Sitting in a NYC Taxicab

I was whirring up Park Avenue for a meeting at the Waldorf Astoria (oh, how posh!) when I pulled out my cameraphone to snap a picture uniquely indicative of New York City. Something representative without being overdone (easier said that done!). Something relatable to almost anyone that has been to this wonderful city. Something easy to recognize. Something difficult to forget. Sitting in a NYC taxicab, it was apparent where the shutter would point itself. Of all the places that I have been in Manhattan through the years, none have been so welcoming and iconic as the backseat of those yellow beacons of light after a bender of a night. An United Nations of drivers mans these vehicles, representative of the dream that the United States has often been for the fortunate, displaced, and ambitious - not that disillusionment did not follow when finding the cab as an occupation hopeful for a better future. Regardless, the taxicab is often friend, sometimes foe - and sometimes the instigator of...

Muggles...

...is what I tweeted last night after having the privilege of attending a private screening of the movie hours before the midnight premiere. As much as the digital revolution has fragmented the shared experiences that we have, it has also greatly expanded the impact of those events that touch various peoples. Witness Harry Potter. In the pre-digital world, this would have been an uniquely British story about wizards and boarding schools, but it has captivated global audiences and transcended the borders of its now-uber-wealthy writer. We were part of the crowd that spanned the globe to see this movie, which I can say, lives up to the hype. On a Thursday evening, we could watch the lines of children queuing up to get a chance to say goodbye to a childhood growing up with Harry Potter and watching the actor grow from a plump-faced little boy into a serious actor and apparent alcoholic. It did not matter for 2.5 hours in the theater, of a movie that was pretty gripping from beginnin...

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