Blog Dis

Apparently, we're not supposed to go looking for inspiration, in the truest sense of being inspired. The real inspiring moments and people are those that come to you without your conscious act of seeking them out. In other words, go about your life and do your best and be good to people and, if in the process of coping, a particular event or person inspires you to become a different person or to do something out of the ordinary, you've been inspired.

Inspiration is like a surprise. It can't be premeditated to the point of waking up one morning and deciding I'm going to become inspired today. Maybe that's what you might tell yourself. I think writing is a fine analogy when it comes to inspiration. You can plot your novels and stories until black crows line up in pretty straight rows, but unanticipated inspiration may cause you to change plot direction. I call this the organic process. The story takes on its own life, literally inspiring you to follow along, to make it believable.

Well, I've seen enough movies in my life to stack them high enough to reach the bloody sky. I mean it. I've seen loads of movies. And, I've watched them with great fervor too since I was old enough to know what I wanted. Becoming a cinephile for me is attributed to having spent a lot of time alone when I was hired to babysit, beginning at the age of 11 years. I had to pass a babysitting course before I could be hired out. I sure did love earning my own money and, when you babysit kids, so that parents are empowered to stay out until all hours; commonplace in the 70s, your evenings were limited to reading or watching TV, after putting the kidlets to bed.

I read plenty of books too; just ask my growing stack of books that appear to be breeding like bunnies when I sleep. I travel when my budget affords. But the bonus of movies is they give you the latitude of learning about other countries that you may not necessarily have the means to visit. The last paid day off, which occurred on the Civic Holiday weekend in August, I crossed paths with a gem of an obscure movie with Nick Nolte called Peaceful Warrior, an adaptation from the Dan Millman novel Way of the Peaceful Warrior. I had zero preconceived notions of this movie and decided to watch it bcus a friend mentioned it in passing that I'd probably find it inspiring. There's that word again. 😂When it pertains to the wisdom of mysticism, many are natural skeptics bcus mystical wisdom often seems trite and a tad too saccharine. This wasn't the case with Peaceful Warrior. Simple premise, like many mystical tales: a talented young man wastes his potential, loses everything only to find himself thru the wisdom of an older man who, by all appearances, seems washed up and going nowhere. The older man teaches the young man to view life from a new perspective, returning him to harmony with his world for the better.

I shan't tell you too much about the film bcus I wholly recommend that you watch it for your own enjoyment. But I shall leave you with the three pearls that pertain to taking a simple yet direct approach to life: Paradox, Humor and Change.

Simplicity taunts complexity.

Paradox: Life will forever be a mystery so don't waste your time trying to figure out its ultimate meaning.

Humor: The greatest gift and weapon you have is the ability to laugh at yourself.

Change: Nothing or no one stays the same.

After watching this flic, I slipped into a fresh pair of board shorts, a singlet top, clipped up my hair, and then barefoot, I refreshed my ice-cold glass of water and added plenty more ice-rocks, laughing out loud at the obvious simplicity of these pearls of inspiration, more like rules to pin to your inner-bulletin board in your mind. This, my friends, is how mysticism works; behind the scenes, burrowing into your imagination, to be recalled when you hit that wall and feel as though no inspiration has come to you, that it's neglected you, that maybe you're blocked and are the root cause why inspiration isn't able to forge a path to you. Know that inspiration hasn't forgotten you; it merely moves from one instance to another, like an activity you engage with robust enthusiasm, until boredom settles in and pushes you onward in search of a new form of inspiration.

More often than not, I lose myself in the detail. I forget to appreciate the moment, when all I really need do is remind myself that there are no ordinary moments. Every. Single. Moment. Counts. You are alive! Each time you breathe, smile, fart, burp, swallow, eat, think, laugh, make love, argue in defence of a loved one, you are living life to the fullest, even if you don't know it.

Vintage is a word I generally apply to furniture, clothing, antiques or rare fine wines, the kind that are locked behind glass cases, kept away from the nimble fingers of the public. If I had a slew of vintage wine, I'd probably lock them up too, especially seeing that I love to crack open a bottle of wine with friends and vintage wine... well, let me just say that vintage wine goes faster than vinegar plunk.


Read More

I draw closer, intrigued
by the ice and ash of his kiss
touching my lips.
I taste the flame of his love,

like the whales moving the oceans,
in rotations, I taste blue
in forgotten time.
I come to know exaltation,

when he whispers to me,
with the words I beg to hear:
I am his and he is mine.
Raging heat, our affection burns.

Our wet flesh is all of it.
And yet,
we are that much more.
He knows, he knows.

I reflect often on the effects of wealth and the impact it has on the world and the individual, insofar that if you don't take care of your own business, the wealth of the world isn't about to open its coffers and throw a tonne of money your way.


Read More

It's like what I had said to my buddy, Tinny Peete, that most blogs become narcissistic rants with the blogger going on and on about the minutiae of every day life. And that is precisely what this vehicle has become for me, a place to describe the various pitfalls and highs of the writing life, and life itself, which is to say my particular spin on our crazy world, which by all rights, appears to provide the same uphill battles that most of us face.

Whew! That was one breathless sentence. Breathe.


Read More

Bleed me dry.
Leave me on the canvas,
the essence of myself
expunged and used.

Bewitched and seduced,
I care not if I suffer.
Quietly bearable,
because of you,

I want my desire,
stripped raw before you,
then kiss with anticipation
the courage on your lips.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy

Talk about a seemingly negative connotation, oh my! Yet, I refer to some of the wonderful populace as not being such a wonderful group of people. You know about whom I speak, as we all do, as we all have experienced these kinds of persons in some shape or form, at some point in your working or personal life. Avoiding the bastards, the bitches and the bleeding hearts is impossible. Most recently, I was reminded of this reality while cycling, kind of like getting smacked in the face by an ice-cold hand.


Read More

Ottawa's resident ornithologist, whose name escapes me at present, noted years back on the impact of declining forested areas in Ottawa insofar that the lack of trees have contributed to the decline of song birds. I'm here to advise you that this status hasn't improved and in fact, has just worsened.


Read More

The personal truths,
the most painful to reveal to him
are the signs of my trust.
My obsessive desire,

to let loose all inhibitions
kept warmer in winter,
a hibernating doubt
melted with ease in spring.

So soon he touches,
then caresses my mouth.
To his tongue I bring the rose to him
worth loving.

Flowing into the old river
of passion,
I lose myself, petal by thorn,
I fall in love with him.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy

Sleeping Beauty conveys the ideal of being human, I should think, because her peaceful slumber is the stuff of wishful thinking. Only teens and those in their mid-twenties can sleep like her, for hour upon hour, sometimes surpassing the mark of 12 hours at one full stretch. Try to re-imagine what this must feel like to be able to sleep with serenity for such a length of time, notwithstanding the fairytale that Sleeping Beauty had a spell cast on her and could only wake up if she received a kiss from her true love.


Read More

The subject line would suggest that lately I've gone hog wild with something, enough to the point that I've lost all control or rather that I choose to go hog wild and throw control out the window of a fast-moving car. That funny expression is an oldie but a goodie, one of many to be found in the English language of funny humans. Allow me to digress for a moment. I consulted my Canadian edition of the Farmer's Almanac on the subject of raising pigs to see if I could uncover the origins of this expression.

This is what I've discovered:


Read More

This night, oh night of thereafter
I come to you.
My madness compels me,

To love you
in wiles, in ways unimagined.
I cross the oceans.

To lead you to my bed
I beckon you, to be with me
this night,

I leave behind all that I know
and give myself wholly
to your heart.

If it were as easy as opening a box of cereal and tearing apart the protective wrapping, then tilting the box and emptying some of the contents into a bowl, every writer (and all artists) would obviously choose the pour method. We like to produce art this way, when it literally and liberally pours out of us, spilling onto the page, or the canvas, or out of the camera lens, in such heaps of brilliance and free-flowing creativity that we sit back to admire the profundity and profuseness of our work and its artistic genius. 🤣🤣🤣🤣


Read More