Author: Phil RedBeard

I'm just a simple man, trying to make my way in the universe.

Encompassing Vision

Apple announced the VisionPro today at their World Wide Developer’s Conference. I won’t write much about the device itself, as many other tech blogs have and are doing precisely that, but I will bring it home to me, by way of my impressions. (I won’t actually own a device at the eye-watering $3,499 price tag it carries.)

a person wears Apple VisionPro and smiles

The VisionPro is an augmented/virtual reality headset, like a few we have seen from Oculus and other companies. But what Apple has done is what Apple does best, which is take an existing product category and reshape/re-release it in such a way that it completely reinvents what that product can do. It wasn’t the first to the mouse, the PC, the digital music player, but it was the best. (It was sort of the first to the smartphone, unless we are including a BlackBerry as a smartphone.) Apple wasn’t the first to a smartwatch, or a wearable headset, but wow, is it looking like the best.

I say “looking like” because the VisionPro won’t be available to your average high-end consumer until next year, and they won’t know what it truly looks like until then, but if the promises are true, this headset will be leaps and bounds ahead of the competition, as was the Apple mouse, iPod, and iMac/iBook/etc.

It appears to be an amazing, immersive experience to wear a VisionPro and view content such as panoramic photos, live sports, movies, and even do mundane things like browse the web or do certain kinds of work. Where it gets awkward is in human/VisionPro interface, i.e., when someone wearing a VisionPro interacts with others who aren’t. It still looks like a silly face-mask of sorts, despite the proto-real EyeSight that Apple is hoping to fool people into thinking are your eyes. I actually cringed during the keynote as Apple hyped the ability to record 3D memories. It showed a father, wearing a VisionPro, kneeling in front of his daughters who were playing with soap bubbles. I couldn’t help but notice the massive headset coming between a man and his children. But then, I dislike pulling out my iPhone to snap photos at a birthday party and interrupting the formation of real memories to create digital ones. I can’t help but wonder at the real cost of forging forever recordings in three dimensions.

Quibbles over picture taking ability aside, I very much desire a VisionPro for travel. Long road trips and air travel will be much more palatable with a private enclave for enjoying any type of content at what appears to be gigantic proportions. Bob Iger, Disney CEO, demoed a new Disney+ experience in which, for one example, one could watch Star Wars while seeming to sit on the surface of Tatooine, with a Jawa sandcrawler to the right, and a desertscape to the left. I crave that experience!

Also hyped was the ability to watch live sports from any angle, or any seat in the arena or stadium. Just when ticket prices to venues are climbing, it would be phenomenal to sit at home, right behind home plate, and watch life-size baseball players play the greatest game on earth. But nothing will replace the smell of the ballpark and the wind in your face while cheering with thousands for the home team to win. As amazing as AR/VR gets, it will still be unreal; though I admit an unreality that will give many experiences they wouldn’t ordinarily get to enjoy. I don’t want to tour Hobbiton in augmented reality, but I definitely would watch The Lord of the Rings in VR en route to New Zealand. Then again, if I never can get to the land of the Kiwi, I would be happy that the ability to go there virtually exists.

Speaking of film, it was hinted at during Disney’s trailer of the Disney+ AR/VR experience, but I believe this device, and others like it, will transform the possibilities for new movie experiences. If the 3D capture of memories is anything to go by, as weird as it is to hide Dad behind a ski mask to record his kids, it will be amazing for a director to strap a VisionPro on and take the audience into a film. Can you imagine tagging along with 13 dwarves and a hobbit into the mountain lair of a dragon? A future remake of The Hobbit story might do just that. Suddenly the holodeck from Star Trek looks a little closer to ahem “reality”.

As you can tell, as an admitted Apple fanboy, I am very excited about the groundbreaking potential of the VisionPro, but I remain dedicated to actual life and all it can give. I don’t ever want to be the person that drags technology between me and life, but where it can enhance or seamlessly augment life, I’m here for it. Given another decade of development and enhancement, I could see walking around Hong Kong, or Tokyo, or someplace where I cannot read the language wearing a descendant of VisionPro that is seamlessly translating transit signs and warning placards so that I can experience a new culture safely and with fewer barriers.

My mind also wanders to quality-of-life enhancements for the home-bound, bed-ridden, or disabled. Virtual and augmented reality can give them back certain things they have lost in terms of travel and other experiences. I am actually surprised that Apple, which has highlighted such use cases in the past for other of their products didn’t at least hint at this possibility during their keynote today. But there is time, as the technology is improved and the price point makes it something that can become ubiquitous.

After all, VisionPro is a category of product in its infancy, even as others have been brought to market before, Apple stands upon their shoulders to reach for the very stars above, and bring them closer, as one demonstration showed a stargazer looking through their bedroom ceiling to the constellations in the night sky above. No substitute for seeing the stars with the naked eye, but ok for the city dweller surrounded by light pollution with no view of the Milky Way.

Leave it to Apple to take a dim, fuzzy view of something and transform it into an encompassing VisionPro. Or is that hyperbole too far? Time will tell.

The Ecstasy of Guns

Trigger warning: guns and gun violence is discussed.

America has a gun problem. That much is obvious. Death by guns is the leading cause of death for our children; the NRA has bought and paid for politicians who continually block sensible gun control legislation; and one can barely turn on a television without seeing something gun related on the screen.

It is this last part I want to discuss today: the rampant image of the gun on screen. I am old enough to have been a teenager when the Columbine school shooting occurred and I remember then that many people blamed the violence on video games. I believe that myth has since been debunked, that violent video games do not directly cause gun violence, but I think it is still a related topic.

Guns are glorified in America. They are made to appear “cool” and “desirable” and as positive means of solving problems. Their aesthetic design is one such to make them as slick and natural an extension of the hand and arm as possible. The sound design of films and television shows is done in such a way as to enhance that glorification. Have you ever noticed someone in a movie using hearing protection when firing guns? I can count on half a hand. Guns are loud. I can tell you this from experience, but guns are never really that loud in film, unless it is germane to a funny plot point. Everything about the way guns are presented is to minimize their faults and maximize their luster.

That simply cannot be an ancillary fact, ignorable to the overall desirability of gun shaped weapons. And when a gun is seen as “cool”, and shown over and over again to be the solution to, dare I say, any problem on screen, then it cannot be coincidence that guns are turned to as the solution to many real-world problems as well.

I watched a mid-grade science fiction film the other night, the new 65 starring Adam Driver and Arianna Greenblatt. Driver is a pilot of a spacecraft that crashes on a world of dinosaurs, and quite unbelievably to the plot, he has a convenient locker filled with survival gear including, you guessed it, a futuristic assault rifle. The rifle is the solution to the dinosaur problem, it makes a nifty sound when fired, and looks amazing when the rounds explode from the barrel. Without it, the marooned pilot and friend would surely have perished. Not only is the rifle a lazy solution to a light plot, but it is also just one more example of guns superseding ingenuity in a difficult situation, cinematically.

A popular film franchise starring Keanu Reeves, John Wick, I believe exists solely because American, and to be fair, world wide audiences as well, love gun play and gun violence. In fact, John Wick is lighter on plot than 65 is, and almost the entirety of all four Wick movies to date are almost entirely comprised of various gun battles. The camera lingers on the guns themselves and shows them in the best of lighting and situations so as to amp up their already prodigious role in the films. This is nothing new. Guns and gun violence have been apart of cinema since the beginnings, with western films and others. The 70’s and 80’s were heydays of “action” movies, with “action” being a codeword for “gun violence” in many cases.

Before 1984’s Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, there existed three ratings for movies: G, PG, and R. G for General Audiences, PG for Parental Guidance suggested, and R for Restricted, meaning 18 and older only. Steven Spielberg wanted another rating between PG and R to keep his younger children from asking to see Temple of Doom, and he petitioned for, and received, the first ever PG-13 rating. Suddenly a new genre of film was born that could include much of the violence (read: guns) of other films, some non-graphic nudity, and swearing (without more than one fuck) and be acceptable for children 13 and older.

There is much to say about the ratings system, but for now my point is that gun violence, which primarily had been restricted to adult audiences, was now widely available to teenagers for the first time. Temple of Doom didn’t have a whole lot of gun violence that wasn’t cartoon-y, but it had some. But many, many other movies have had a lot more. John Wick is still an R-rated flick, but others with only slightly less gun violence are not. What have we unleashed with this bright, technicolor tableau of silver screen gun violence? I don’t believe it directly causes real world gun violence, but I believe it is contributory to an overall culture that glorifies the gun.

Such horrific weapons as guns should not be glorified at all, should not be presented as solutions to problems in fictional stories, and should not be desirable objects to possess. They are far too destructive. As our stories take us as humans, there our hearts and minds go. Make something “normal” or “acceptable” on screen, and we will start to normalize it in real life as well. Usually, I would champion this for acceptance, for representation, and for many other things, but when used to negative effect, I must condemn it.

To take another example for a moment: show characters making racist jokes in a positive light in a popular movie and wait and see how long it is before you hear those same jokes in your world. Our former president unleashed a slightly hidden part of our culture by making sexual harassment, racism, and all sorts of evil acceptable from our highest political office and the effects are still tearing America apart. Presidents, and movies, can do that very well.

I don’t have an immediate solution to Hollywood’s obsession with guns, but I can do one, small thing and that is this: I will no longer glorify guns. I find myself doing it in a small way: one is when talking about photography. For some reason that I have not researched, gun metaphors are used for photography. Shooting film, getting the shot, taking a shot etc are all code for taking a picture. As much as possible, I don’t use these phrases. I don’t use a film camera, but I can get a picture or take a pic instead of a “shot”.

Another example is in my toy photography. I love Star Wars as a franchise (despite it, too, glorifying shooting weapons to a degree) and take a lot of pictures of Star Wars action figures. Almost every single figure comes with, or has a place for, a gun shaped object. To display or photograph them naturally is to have a place for their tiny plastic gun. Going forward, I want to only take photos of the figures in positive aspects, and to minimize or remove entirely their weapons. This will be difficult in a conflict heavy galaxy far, far away, but I believe it can be done.

The journey towards de-glorifying guns starts with personal choice and action, much like the decisions to reject sexism, racism, homo/trans/etc-phobia and many other evils. It some ways, it starts with me. I want to see positive change, therefore it is incumbent on me to evidence that positive change. I stopped going to gun ranges for fun a while back, I am choosing less violent (gun-centric or otherwise) movies to enjoy, and changing my photographic vocabulary and the object of my photographic endeavors is a part of that. Ultimately I believe positive change is possible, but it takes many small steps along different paths than have been previously traveled.

Rugged

I need to see rugged places,
where untamed things are;
invigorate my soul.
(a wild thing, trammeled
in some hutch-)

Breathe crazed currents deep,
and waken the were-beast
behind my bones:
quiet, small,
domesticated me

molting to craggy unrefinement
jumping out of freckled skin,
free to roam the reaches
of stretched sky
above ginger mop and red beard.

But if I do,
I may never be the same.
Dragonslayers rarely return home
unscarred and nicely kempt
to chat up the neighbors.

My horizons coalesce back
into sheetrock walls and paint.
The only roaring is the AC.
My heart halts its stirring
and drifts off again to shaken sleep.

Still, jagged scenes pause
behind night black heavens
waiting to be taken by the dawn,
cracking through rock and stone,
precipitating splendid life.

I need only to see the rugged places…

Love of Words

I saw an advert the other day for an AI powered writing service: it promised blog posts for any website quickly and on-demand. While I would hope that it would be SEO friendly and have the technical side of things in order (after all, what’s the point of machines if not to make drudgery and technicalities easier?) mostly it just made me sad.

I suppose that if someone were to be running a purely marketing focused blog, or something where blind and abundant content is the point, then maybe such a thing would be useful, but for anyone else, I just don’t understand a bot writing in place of a person.

I don’t find writing a chore. In fact writing is one of the purest pleasures I have. I love arranging words just so, and making sentences to craft coherent paragraphs joining up to make something unique to present to the world, and hopefully fun to read as well. I love imagining that I am talking with someone, albeit a little one-sidedly perhaps. Writing is communication, a transfer of ideas and thoughts from one person to another. It is personable, immediate, and effervescent. No matter when I write, or when another person reads my words, communication is possible. The conversation can carry itself across time and space.

To replace that human interaction with a bot, a machine, no matter how sophisticated, would defeat the purpose. Until we have true AI, true intelligence, then why would a person want to talk to a robot? Call me no luddite, I embrace new technologies and machine shortcuts to an easier life, but this isn’t that. This is a cheat, a scam, a flim-flam. It is an advanced algorithm spitting out words without soul, without heart, without any real meaning behind them.

I grew up reading Isaac Asimov’s robot stories, and in particular was delighted by the stories of Andrew Martin (no relation) and R. Daneel Olivaw, two robot persons. The first was the robot who became, at great and ultimate cost, a true person. The second is the robot detective who solved some of the most famous murders across the galaxy. These are the machines I would love to talk to, to engage with, and to communicate with. These are AI in their purest form: brand new beings constructed mechanically and artificially, but who are, nonetheless, real intelligence (though R. Daneel might disagree with me). However, these are only stories thought up by a grandmaster of science fiction. This blog writing “AI” is nowhere close to these two mechanical men I mention.

I hid the ad and blocked it from ever showing up in that particular feed ever again, but with the advent of machine learning and these rudimentary “AIs” it won’t be long before more and more artificial writing services pop up and seek to garner money and interaction. Count me among the ones who will never use or pay for such a service. My words will always be home grown, purely human fashioned. From my mind to the page or screen and into another’s mind, without artificial intermediary.

I love words too much to sully them with the metallic taste of machinery. Far from being warm, soft, and delicious, they would smack of oil and metal and angles too harsh to swallow. I was taught that language, especially written language, should seduce and envelope the reader like a luxurious bed in a warm room on a cozy day. Writing should delight and entice. I don’t believe in spewing words on a page in order to merely create content. That galls me and irritates my senses, hardly a delight or a wonderful seduction. As long as I am able, I will write my own damn words. When I am no longer able, I hope to die in peace and leave my words behind for another to read.

To this end, I have taken a step towards what may be an ongoing community of writers around me: I have signed up for my first event through Art House Dallas. “For the Love of Words” will be held in a month at a coffee shop nearby, and is for and by writers. I am nervous. I don’t normally put myself out into new and unfamiliar situations. I don’t just go and do things like this. But I seriously want to write, and be a “Writer” and part of that is learning from and rubbing shoulders with other writers. I must get out of myself and into a wider group of people who are doing what I do: write. I have the escape valve of “if it doesn’t work, I can always leave” and that gives me some comfort. The event, while ticketed, is free, so I haven’t paid much out for this experience. But I am excited. I think this will be a good thing for me and my writing growth. Out of the vacuum of my own space and into the world of other minds focused on the singular goal of crafting the written word.

Of course, there is no telling what the future holds. I may fail at this grand experiment of writing; I may run out of words or ideas, or fail at making them communicate with others I may never meet. That isn’t really up to me. What is my domain is doing the work to put the words out there on a regular basis, and to toil diligently to shape those words as best I can. The results will either be productive or fall flat, but I believe that if I do my job well, something must come of it. I would love to make a career out of writing, to earn a living smithing ideas. I am aware that is more difficult that it may seem, and with the influx of writer bots it may be hard to rise above. Ultimately, I also believe the human generated word will become more valuable than the algorithmic essay. To be clear: AI is not going away. The robotic cat is out of the virtual bag. However, that only gives authentic artisans a greater chance to shine. Far from being an obstacle, this is an opportunity.

Opportunities are to be grasped. Challenges are to be accepted, and overcome. I’d put my sentences up against any fabricated conglomerate of phrases any day. I am not the best or the most polished writer, and that may be what shows me to be a real one. Computers are good at doing things perfectly, within their programming, but cannot, and I don’t think ever will, create with authentic flaws. And that is what will set human art apart from that of a computer every single time: the little imperfections that reflect the truest soul of humanity. None of us are perfect, but we are each of us unique. And that singularity is what is at the heart of human expression and what makes any person want to hear from another in the first place. Since my dream is to communicate well with others, I believe I am in a good place to do just that.

Accepted

I have bonafide acceptance into my first ever grad school! While I see this as a stepping stone in my graduate level education, I am nonetheless excited. As I’ve written before, I am also nervous. I am uncertain that I will be up to the challenge of school after so long out of the game, and worry that I may fail in this endeavor. Challenges are to be faced, though, and are ultimately what define us as people, so I am going to face this one as bravely as I can.

Meanwhile, I have been thinking about the step beyond this one: the Master of Fine Arts in Writing. I really, really want to jump into that, but must test myself first. My advisor at my first ever grad school has given me a lead into a community, Art House Dallas, that centers around creative arts of all kinds. After perusing their website, it looks as if they have plenty of written art events.

I have not been a part of a writing community since my undergraduate days when I was part of a quite exciting group of writers that were my peers and fellow students. I miss that sense of belonging intensely, and the fun of writing together with other enthusiasts. It particularly sharpened my skills and made me a better writer. I write on my blogs, but am not eliciting feedback on how to improve my writing. More online journals, these blogs give me a chance to throw words at the screen and not lose the ability to craft a sentence, but they are not trying to be high art.

I worry that in a community of writers I may not be accepted. I know that this is imposter syndrome rearing it’s inauthentic head, but I cannot shake the feeling that I wouldn’t belong, or that I would be an outsider. As with most people in a group, I would want to belong in the group, be a full, contributing member. I don’t want to hang on the fringe, or just exist in the space. I want to commit and become an integral facet. I would like to offer as much as I would be given, in terms of feedback, critique, and a fresh perspective. Maybe Art House Dallas could be the opportunity I am looking for.

I have a friend in Pennsylvania who is a young adult author and she has invited me to be part of her group of writers. To date, I have not taken that plunge either, but I feel that it is time to do so. If I am going to commit to a life of writing, and make it a viable part of my life, I really need to be part of communities that write.

I also need to get more serious about writing every day. My wife has a few book projects she would like assistance writing, and that I have agreed to help her on. I need to get started with those in a real way. My blogs are doing fine, I last wrote here ten days ago and on PhilMartin.blog four days ago, so I am regularly enough publishing posts, but I need to inculcate myself into the habit of writing. I cannot improve without doing, and doing so regularly.

I have an action list: join Art House Dallas events, join my friend’s group, start on my wife’s books, and continue blogging regularly. Taken together, that is more than enough to keep me busy. Grad school classes start this August, and once they do, I will really be in the thick of it. All the better! Without having a full time job, I need to be employed doing something. Even more so if that something is writing. (I hope to have a job again though, and relatively soon, but that remains To Be Seen at the moment.)

I look back and re-read that paragraph: my action list, and I am excited. There is potential for so much good there. It is a risk, of course, as most things new are, but without the threat of risk there is no hope of reward. I don’t achieve by sitting around doing nothing, and that gets boring after awhile anyhow. I must have something to do, and I have chosen, for better or for worse, writing.

I was thirteen the first time I consciously sat down and wrote a poem. I still have it, but it isn’t any good. It is evocative, but amateurish, has imagery, but lacks sophistication. I was thirteen, after all, and just starting. But it really reminds me of the poet I would become, and the sort of thing I write now, just, better. Before then, and since then, I have written a lot of different things, but that I consider the true beginning of my intentional writing career.

That is another long term project I would like to commence at some point, by the way: revising my book of poetry. Did you know that I self-published some poems? Well, I did, and you can buy the collection on Amazon. As good as I consider them (I am offering them for sale, after all) I would like to see what some intense revision could do. I want to put them through the wringer of my own critique, and others’, and see what emerges. I think I have enough to work on for now, but that remains a longer-term goal. Look for a second edition of Whiskey Poetry in the future! (But for now, buy the one that is out there. Amazon has it on sale for a little over $5. Can’t beat that!)

I am now thirty-six. That is twenty-three years in the profession. I have been paid, to date, if memory serves, $130 for my writing. That is for one job I held writing educational materials, a blog post for a website I used to contribute to, and two copies of my book to my mom and a friend. But professional writers don’t often become multi-millionaire New York Times bestsellers. Sometimes they aren’t even published. But they are still writers. What matters is how you do it, and I want to do it like they do: consistently and at a high level. Small beginnings are not to be diminished.

Consider my acceptance into grad school another small beginning. I am making my way forward, and that is what matters.

Graduate School

My application is complete for my first graduate school! I am so excited about the future of my education. Ever since I was in high school, I’ve thought about attending higher education, first as an undergrad, and then as a grad student. Now I am close to being another step further along the journey. Acceptance is being considered by the admissions committee, but I foresee no complications in being admitted.

I am going to take a few general courses to begin, because honestly going back to school scares me. I have been out of the scholastic game since graduating in 2010, and then I had completed tours at two colleges in five years culminating in a Bachelor of Arts degree. At the moment of graduation, my mental health was declining and I was exhausted. Now, thirteen years later, I feel ready to again tackle some classes.

I am pursuing a Master of Fine Arts in writing, the terminal degree for creative writing. I would like to focus on poetry and memoir writing, or literary non-fiction. Lofty dreams, as these are traditionally the hardest programs to get into. I need a portfolio of my best writing, and to find a good program that won’t break the bank, or that is not far away. Most MFA programs depend on being able to be on-site somewhere for at least a few weeks out of each semester to workshop and learn from a professional. The rest of the time, from what I understand, is spent reading and writing and re-writing and re-writing.

But that is later. Right now I need to make sure I can perform at a graduate level. Like I said, I am experiencing some intense imposter syndrome and real fear. What if I am not good enough? What if I can’t get back into the groove? What if I no longer have the magic touch when it comes to wordsmithing? What if I, quite simply, no longer belong in school? I am having to take some deep breaths and move forward.

For a long time, I have had a strategy when it comes to jobs and other endeavors: go forward until someone or something stops me. It has the advantage of being simple, and easy to remember, and as such, easy to implement. It is amazing to me how often that has worked, too. My most recent job, as a member of a Human Resources team, was like that. I had never done HR, had little idea what that meant, and was feeling very unsure of myself when I applied. But I applied, I interviewed, and was hired. After I found my footing, I realized that I had a knack for HR and was good at my job. Eventually, I was laid off through no fault of my own, and my former boss just told me she wished I was still working with her. I do, too, but had it not been for the layoff, I would never have considered quitting for grad school. Now I have been given this opportunity.

I will go forward, indeed, I have already: I’ve applied, submitted my transcripts, paid the fee, acquired references, written a letter of intent, and at this point, there is nothing more to do but wait. The admissions committee will meet and make their decision, and that will dictate what I do next. I will either register for classes, or seek out another grad school to apply to. I feel strongly that before I begin my MFA I need at least a few classes under my belt to get going. I am aware of the fact that applying to schools is somewhat of a lottery, so it won’t be until I have been consistently rejected that I will assume that this is something I should not pursue. I am not there yet, so forward it is!

Another big hurdle that has me concerned is the financial aspect of it all. I am unemployed, and grad school isn’t cheap. I am not ready to take out loans (still paying off undergrad loans) but I have some savings to at least get me started. I will be researching scholarships, applying for financial aid, and doing what I can. Right now I am also uncertain about the prospect of being able to work and study, so I am not seeking out a full time job. Might try to get something part time, at least through this first experimental semester, but traditionally it has been difficult for me to find the kind of job I look for.

Sigh.

I overwhelm easily at the myriad aspects to chasing a higher degree. But, I have good support from my wife, my family, and those friends that know about my desires. That support is bolstering me through these early days. In the back of my mind, I begin to think that I can do this, that the questions and doubts are nothing but smoke screens and shadows. I’ll take all the help I can get throughout this entire process (if you would like to contribute towards my school fund, I am open to discussing options), but I also know that if I am to succeed in my dreams, and graduate with that MFA, I will need self-confidence and the ambition to work hard.

Maybe that is what scares me the most: that I am the only one who can pull this off. I’ve never been very self-confident, or self-reliant. When pursuing my undergraduate degree, I didn’t stop long enough to think about what I was doing. I raced from class to class, reading and writing long into the night and early morning (sometimes). But I didn’t do much self-reflection. Thirteen years gives you time for self-reflection, and now, with experience and maturity, I am much more aware of what I am about to do. And it scares me.

Scared or not, I’ve started, and I’m not about to back out, not yet, not by a long shot. One step, as the cliche goes, at a time. Forward. I can do this.

Launched

I have launched my second blog! You can find it at philmartin.blog. My writing there will be centered on religion, social issues, and my intersection with both. If those sorts of topics interest you, perhaps go over there and give me a follow. Otherwise, feel free to stay here and read about pop-culture, baseball, poetry, and whatever else I choose to write about.

Thanks for reading and have a great day!

Looking Back, Looking Forward

My lava lamp slowly blumphs away, against the wall beneath the television. One dog lays snoring a few feet away, another lays atop a footstool and sighs, looking at me, and then looking away.

The night crawls towards midnight, but before it gets there, I wanted to gather a few thoughts and toss them into the void of cyberspace. This week has been both full of activity, and also full of rest. My wife and I returned on Sunday from a long, two-week trip, driving from Texas to Pennsylvania to North Carolina and back to Texas. We drove a total of 3,681 miles.

The trip was ostensibly a work trip for my wife, she being one who earns a living by raising support in the form of monetary donations from individuals, churches, and other organizations. She works in distance education for a non-profit university, but her salary is comprised of these donations. It is necessary, time to time, to visit those who send in donations. I accompanied her because since we got married in 2019, and there was/is a pandemic in the intervening years, I had yet to meet some of these people.

The time exhausted both of us, not just in the car driving and traveling, but in always being “on” in presentations in front of churches an in one-on-one interactions, or in small groups. We are very glad to be back home, in the quiet of our upstairs studio, with our dogs (who did not accompany us on the trip).

The beginning of the week was spent just re-acclimating back to life at home, and tending to the yard which had grown into a jungle while we were gone. I got the oil changed in the car and the tires rotated (a good bit of maintenance, considering the miles put on the car in just two weeks). We’ve also been looking after one of our dogs who will undergo surgery early next week. He needed a blood draw and a check-up prior to being put under anesthesia. I also spent a day with my mother and nieces seeing the bluebonnet fields, the ubiquitous spring flower of Texas. Today was laundry day, among other chores.

*deep breath*

While Friday, and the week, draws to a close I reflect back. It has been a good three weeks in total. The trip was paid for through one-time donations from churches and individuals, and others may begin, increase, or merely continue regular support. This most recent few days of performing tasks was productive. Going into the weekend, I feel ready to rest, relax, and spend more time with family. I don’t want to accomplish anything other than fun and frivolity. I believe I’ve earned a little of both.

This is also a breath before a plunge into work. No, I haven’t regained gainful employment. Rather, the opposite: I am going to try being gainfully unemployed for the time being. I am going to pursue full-time writing for the summer (at least). I have many topics and ideas of things to write about, and to that end I have registered a new domain through WordPress where I will be setting up another blog to handle most of that writing. It isn’t directly related to this blog’s topics and interests, so it felt natural to give it a new space in which to flourish (hopefully). More on that later.

I also want to pursue higher education. Formally, I have only acquired a bachelor’s degree (of Arts in English) and would like to add to that a Master of Fine Arts in Writing or a related field. I need to do serious research into schools, financial aid, and other things. I’ve been out of the education game for a while and need to reacclimatize my mind and body to being studious. To this end I think I want to register for two fall semester classes at my wife’s university (where as spouse I receive a 33% discount already) just to see if I can still do the whole scholastic Thing.

Work lies before me. I seriously want to devote about 6 hours a day towards writing, and a few hours each week towards getting geared up for the fall semester. I don’t want to do this halfway. I am serious about taking my loss of job as an opportunity to try something different. I can’t say “new” because I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and I’ve been in school since I was six, but to a new and different degree, perhaps.

As Friday ends I realize that while I have been busy recently, a whole new kind of busy is about to begin, one mostly unknown to me, and more than a little scary. I don’t want to fail, I don’t want to put the financial burden of my family squarely on my wife, and I don’t know how to alleviate that and be a writer/student at the same time. But one step at a time, as I’ve always done. First, a good night’s rest, then the weekend, then: Monday.

*breathe*

I can do this.