Taking A New Walk

“There are two ways to be wealthy; to get everything you want, or to want everything you have”

“Most Every Morning This Morning”, ©Robert Redus

We are ultimately a product of what we were trained to be and do. Yet somehow along the way we opted to either take control of that previous being and doing person we were and change it, or we remained fundamentally the same old doer. So where we are, is it a choice or is it where we were trained to be…is there any significance in becoming something else…. 

“Where It died” © Robert Redus

“She Always Said Popcorn”, ©Robert Redus

The word Liminal, comes from the Latin word, “Threshold” it is defined as: occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold..

In other words: You are not what you were, nor are you what you are going to be….

Liminal space, is that place in-between what has been and what will be….In other words: The unknown, mystery…that place where if you pay attention, things happen, and in a big way!

The entire Liminal conversation is a gnarled set of roots wrapped with string and fishing line, forced into a garbage bag then wrapped tight with duct tape…There appears no simple answer…We either recognize we are in transition or we do not and clearly  transition has degrees that are personal, relative, pertinent, altering, life changing, or they may very well be putting new shoe laces into and old pair of hiking boots…..

Transition, mystery, the unknown are everywhere around us, deciding to bathe in it, drink it, immerse yourself into it, surrender to it, give it over to auto pilot for longer than you like  just might conjure up the word orgasm in a new and exciting way… and in the words of Jerry Jeff Walker, “Think about it Darlin“

A bat epitomizes a “Liminal Being”……and what better animal for a new spirit animal… 

Here’s what I’m reading

Here’s what I’m listening to

 

“There is no exception to the rule, everyone wants to be the exception to the rule”

The Collision of Magic

“The world is changed by your example, not your opinion.”

I’m feeling the small bits of dried paint on my hands for most of the day, these days. They remind me of what I really am, not what I think I am.

The paint tells a story of solitude, a place where what matters most is not time but what happens in those seconds where the intersections of process and effort breed, that spark that might very well burn the entire building to the ground and leave nothing but ash as the only evidence something was made, constructed….like getting a merit badge that’s just blank, for purposely, doing absolutely nothing….

While hiking  the other day on a hillside, studded with pinyon trees and high yellow grass, I came across some bones laid out in a depression, they were an intact leg. The bones were still held together by ligaments, so it was relatively new. I noticed one end appeared glossy, I reached down and gripped the end of the bone, it was very wet and slick….we had just missed each other….I listen to the sounds of the coyotes most every night, barking and yipping just 25 yards up the hill from my bedroom and often I’ll stand at the window looking for anything that appears to be one of these magic dogs. They are elusive, stealth. And that is one of the mysteries I seem to live for these days, what appears unattainable with the greater possibility that we just may run into each other one day….and that collision becomes magical

I hope your mystery is filled with great magic when you collide….

This is what I’m reading

And this is what I’m listening to….

 

“You’re not rich until you have something money can’t buy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ilk of a Good Doughnut

“Everybody wants to protect their own tribe, whether they are right or wrong.”

The word, “Ilk”, is defined as:

“A type of people or things similar to those already referred to.”

Ilk is about the idea of migration, the ability to take some inner parts of us, the, “most” parts of us and move these bits to a place that reflects who we are, what we are, what we believe, what we think, how we act, feel and also how we react, resist and persist…

My thoughts recently have been of my ilk, my tribe and my migration…where does it end up, or does it…is it a continuous trek. Are there subtle changes in all of it that never really allows the true adhesion of self to tribe or maybe I already wear the tattoo…. Are we a flock of birds moving a direction, then another.

Monarch butterflies can take up to 5 generations to migrate from Mexico to Canada…they seem to show ilk works well with ilk….

We didn’t decide who or what we migrated towards, we are like the Monarch in a sense, we just did and somehow hopefully that migration has made wearing a striped shirt with checkered pants….just perfect….and regardless, how or why we did, here we are. And we might say love did it, or perhaps we just walked out the door one day and the combination of self, adventure, maybe a little mescal, some cool sunsets and a box full of unique experiences got us to our tribe….they liked us, we liked them… 

Here is the best example of ilk….

The easy part of my Saturday morning with a blue corn doughnut…

Whoos Blue Corn, Blueberry Lavender Doughnuts are part of my tribe these days…..Those in my tribe, I thank you, you have filled me with great things….

What’s your tribe look like?

“You are only as strong as the alcohol you drink, the tables you dance on and the friends that hold you together”

 

 

 

 

 

My Own Private January…

“The vast sage desert undulates with almost imperceptible tides like the oceans.”

This time of year, I am devoid, I lack and I do so purposely, not in some self torture sense or for some insatiable need to suffer; but really more for those moments of time I seemed to have left somewhere, to catch up with me, find me, maybe acknowledge me from across some snow covered arroyo. That would seem to be enough for me to enjoy the exhale of the long full bellied breath I’ve been holding for months…Maybe it is all in anticipation of what grows, hidden beneath my feet and what will fly above me in the white stacked cloud filed skies of summer. My boots already longing to feel the small rocked desert earth crunching beneath them. Yet today, 18 degrees hovers hard…

I think it is my hibernation, my place to be weary and slumber those long nights…make the time important splitting fire wood, loading the stove, sitting in front of the cracks and pops, watch the sunset flames dance before me…read a bit slower…wonder more…question less and settle into the things that I have no answers for…spend this time, as this time only…

I hope where ever you find yourself these days, each day ends with a better you, a greater sense of awe,  greater adventures and something that makes you smile and laugh a little more than you have….

Sale at my store 35% off  use coupon 35off HERE

“Idealism increases in direct proportion to one’s distance from the problem.”

The, “Well Worn Path”

“The mind moves in the direction of our currently dominant thoughts.”

This past summer, I visited a place called, “Tsankawi“, relatively untouched, pretty unbridled and full of trails well worn into the hill sides. These trails for the most part were made by ancestral Pueblo people, we as visitors are just walking the same ones they did to see what they saw and somehow make a connection. The ground is littered with pottery shards and tempting as it is to pocket a few of the real beauties, the power of the visual beauty far outweighs the idea of placing one of these on a shelf in my house.

We’ve all been told various stories about,”Paths“,and somehow having one, finding one, walking one, being one, creating one, seems not so much about the path as it does about the, “Pathwalker”; so then, what’s the point of the path other than to wear a well worn trail  from where you’ve been to where you are. Maybe the emphasis is two-fold, no doubt the journey is paramount, but what of the effect of that journey on you the Pathwalker. You’re not somehow going to get belched out another side of life, with all of the answers, fulfilled and ready to never light another great fire in a wood stove or smell a cup of Ethiopian coffee seconds before it seduces your palate. Not to mention you’ve left a trails of bread crumbs or granola, or broken hearts, or empty bottles, you won’t be that hard to find. Perhaps the, “Well Worn Path” will hopefully lead us all to a point of disappearance, a no path, one without clues, or directions, almost that same place you were when you started the original path, that motion before the very first step, whatever that was.

I’ll admit, I do have  a favorite pottery shard I picked up many years ago in a place by Deming New Mexico. We had a conversation that morning, as I recall it was the first step of a long journey….

 

 

 

A new Studio Update in my store, please take a look….

 

“A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere.”

Virtue

“The firm, the enduring, the simple, and the modest are near to virtue.”

 

 

 

March 4, 2018…What’s in a Fortune Anyway…

 

“My Favorite Bunnies” ©2018

“You are only as strong as the alcohol you drink, the tables you dance on, and the friends that hold you together” 

I had lunch with a friend of mine some months ago in Calistoga California at the only Chinese restaurant in town. In typical, commercial, Chinese restaurant fashion, two cellophane wrapped fortune cookies appeared along with the check.

I will admit, when the fortune cookies arrive, something comes over me, (some of you do this too, just differently, and it is OK). I become over the top superstitious, count to 6, three times…tap my left foot a few times, blink twice, wave my hand over each cookie, hoping to feel the magic and juju I so associate with fortune cookies. I mean for God’s sake, they are, “FORTUNE”, cookies…I make major decisions based on what’s wrapped up in that tiny stale, sometimes spongy treasure chest…part of my superstition is being the last to take the remaining little pillow of fate…at least that way I know destiny has clearly chosen me by the process of elimination and what awaits, I follow like the Boy Scout motto…

I do have an out though if the fortune really sucks, I don’t eat any of the cookie, that way the fortune is null and void…whew!! The most memorable fortune I’ve ever had in my life created this null and void ritual… here goes:

“You will have a very unusual operation”

So with great anticipation, my friend made his choice, cracked it open and read his fortune…it was something about straight lines and life, had no relevance what so ever, so he said…I’ve yet to check with him though…I quivered with anticipation as I cracked open the vault of whatever fortune cookies are made of, and there on a slender piece of paper my fate awaited me…

In all seriousness, it was the most profound fortunes I’ve received, I look at it every day, and see how it works for me…not to mention, I’ve memorized the Chinese word on the back of the fortune, “Busy”,  Mang or Fan, depending of course….

Here’s what I’m listening to as I write this, I hope you enjoy it….

Hope your fortune comes true…

“The truth knocks on the door and you say, ‘Go away, I’m looking for the truth’, and so it goes away”

Star Gazing

Limited Time, 2017

“I’m not interested in preserving the status quo; I want to overthrow it.”

I used to camp on a picnic table at Bean Hollow Beach, long after they would lock the gates, check the bathrooms and say goodnight to whatever needed saying goodnight to….I’d walk around the heavy yellow pipe barricade, with my sleeping bag, a flashlight, a small styrofoam cooler and my journal…I always had plans…didn’t always initiate the plans but had them nevertheless…Often I’d start a small fire under the concrete picnic table that was my bed to warm it up…I’d lie there, drink some beers and watch the star filled sky…watch for anomalies and satellites…strange events, anything that wanted to come forward…it was an experience I often think of today and how it was, simple and easy….a pleasure to be a part of a few times each month….I owned the beach, and everything on it…it was mine for about 8 hours…sometimes I’d count the stars like the minutes…because I could…

Star gazing music:

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

Who Needs Better…

“Truth is everybody is going to hurt you: you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.”

I can’t say…and really neither can you…what exactly the, “right”, way might be…some call it Jesus…others, Makers Mark…porn…a spoonful of heroin…all you can eat buffets… adrenalin…a box of Little Debbie snack cakes…sleeping…and it doesn’t really matter because there is absolutely no difference…from one to the another…it all still fills some hole that we think needs filling…just like we need to find what’s right…right??…seems all of the above mentioned might border on the questionable way…given moderation is not an element in the process…

I mean, just watch Jesus Camp, drink a quart of Makers Mark, shoot a spoonful of herion after a trip to an all you can eat buffet, before a base jumping lesson, and to add to the adenine rush eat as many Little Debbie snack cakes before you deploy the chute, then go home and take a 23 hour nap…get back with me on this, would you..let me know how the dy went…

The most important thing is “Way”…which fucking direction are you heading…and even if it is not the right direction what is revealed along the way will be right for a while…or forever…who knows….

I sat the other day in the best spot possible at a farmers market…and inside my ever ticking brain, I asked myself…”How can I make the best space possible, even better?”…and you know, if I’d have had a third hand…I’d have slapped the shit out of myself  repeatedly…or at least pinched me a couple of times…you know…sometimes….

“Good enough is just good enough”

And it’s really easy to always want to make something better…even if it is really, really good enough and would be hard to make better…and you know that’s a very messed up way of thinking, I think…oh, and believe me I think like this far more than I’d like to admit…So, why in the world do we do this…do we want more, better, greater something from a better situation, all the stuff we can possibly carry…to add to all of the other stuff we have carried around for a few years, decades….does a better situation make everything else better…how’s a 500k a year job sound?…what about 3 and one half hour commute twice a day that goes with that great paying job…..still better???….is it like a fantastic marmalade on a basically bland piece of toast?…I mean you can only eat so many spoonfuls of marmalade directly from the jar before a piece of toast, even toasted wonder bread, starts looking pretty good!

So I’m starting to write in my sketchbook every morning, the things that are are really good just as they are….without any thought of the blah…blah…blah that somehow floats there in the ether and says…”On the other hand”, in those quiet whispers….

I sharpened a very dull thrift store knife I purchased yesterday….and not only was the sharpening process really, really good and truly could not have been any better…but cutting the paper to see how sharp the knife was a religious experience….now could it be sharper…who cares….I don’t…..

So my entire rant today isn’t really about what you have, don’t have, the holes we fill with shit that is just another addiction to something equally as addictive to what we’ve tried to shed, it’s about satisfaction…and if you don’t own it already, you should probably make that the quest until it’s at least in view, and you know what it looks like, until it is  in hand, encompassing and visceral….sorry to say, you can’t buy it, rent it, stumble upon it, find it in someone else, pray to it, inject it, eat it, tax your adrenaline glands, and Little Debbie….sure as hell doesn’t have yours….

Have a great day!!

“I’d rather be dead than singing ‘Satisfaction’ when I’m forty-five.”
Guess who???

 

A Few Thoughts About….

“What delights us in visible beauty is the invisible.”

“Spacious Skies” ©Robert Redus 2016

I remember singing, “America the Beautiful”, in parochial school, it was right up there with Onward Christian Soldiers…and for the most part, I thought the song ended with the first, “From sea to shining sea”….well, I don’t know how many of you are aware of this, but it doesn’t and there are 3, that’s right, count them, three more verses…my vivd imagination kept me afloat, thinking that somewhere in 1974 I was going to find out what and where the amber waves of grain, purple mountain majesties, and the fruited plain, were and how I was going to get there…sort of a personalized, “Easy Rider“, moment where instead,  I just dreamed of riding the Panhead that Dennis Hopper was riding in the movie.

So my brother Kenneth…an avid adventurer and I began a few treks, jumping a freight train to end up eventually in Santa Fe New Mexico, with just the clothes on our backs, toothbrushes, water, and of course a can of, Sterno…where I have to say, I attended the most incredible News Years celebration in a bar called the El Toro Lounge…I wore a handmade paper hat with a picture of Katherine Ross glued to it…we did some great hitchhiking and exploring…and never once did I see on the map or hear from other travelers of these legendary….waves of grain, purple mountains or fruited plains…hmmm…and we traveled a great deal over the years…..and

nothing…

So…I’ve always believed that I have a choice of being right…or being happy…and yes I can be both…but more often than not, happiness and rightness do not share the same space…one way streets, I will always forgo happiness for the sake of being right…the book, “Napkin Notes, On the Art of Living” speaks a great deal about this and how it’s entirely about you…check it out…

Here are my thoughts this morning translated into photographs…hope it make sense….have a swell day!

©Robert Redus 2016

 

©Robert Redus 2016

©Robert Redus 2016

©Robert Redus 2016

©Robert Redus 2017

Enjoy

“I have always felt a little homeless. It’s a strange thing.”