Blank Page


A blank page is a frightening thing. There is an expectation in my head that it needs to be filled. But, what with? What words do I put on the page? What meaning do I try to convey? Who will read it? Will he or she understand what I want to express?

Did da Vinci ever worry about whether or not other people, when looking at one of his paintings, would see what he saw when he created the image? Probably not. He likely simply trusted his own abilities and with tiny tricks of brushstrokes expressed what he saw with his eyes and with his mind. This is what art is. The artist creates what he sees and feels. He then releases it to the universe for the universe and its denizens to do with it as they will.

So, for me the next step is fairly obvious; I need to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, and fill the empty pages. I need to fill empty pages with what I see with my eyes and my mind. I need to fill pages with the things I have seen. The things I have seen with my eyes, and my mind, and my soul, and my spirit.

I have seen so many beautiful things. And I have seen many terrible things. I have seen love. I have seen hatred. I have held the hands of angels and broken bread with devils. I have seen life and death. I have lived and died a million times. I have seen sunrises and sunsets. I have seen the darkest night. I have seen points of light in the dark, be they stars or human spirits. I have traveled to the far side of the world. I’ve sampled the local foods of Japan, Korea, Thailand, Singapore, Mexico, and Bahrain. I have purchased the time of beautiful women in many of these countries. And I treated them as the goddesses they were. I remember each of them.

The girl in Thailand, especially. She met my needs. She ministered to my hunger and my thirst. In the tiny hotel room first she bathed me, then removed the stress and tension trapped within. No part of my body did she leave untouched. She allowed me to hold her as we slept. The next morning she walked me though the market area of the city. She took me into her world. She was my escort and guide in a completely foreign place. She showed to me part of her world. She bought me breakfast. It was soup. Exquisite, sweet and savory and tangy and tart.

I have loved and lost. I have loved and gained. I have acquired family I have no blood relation to. I have children I am not “Father” to, instead I am “Dad.”

I have walked away from so many people in my life. People I loved. People I love. I do love them. I love them all. Nonetheless, I walked away. Parents, brothers, sister and friends. How I wish I could have them all with me. From stepping stone to stepping stone I have passed them all by. As if in some hurry to get somewhere. When all I want is to be where they all are.

Perhaps it’s time I reverse course, to some extent. Perhaps it’s time for me to reconnect with those who have shaped me into the man I have become and am becoming. Perhaps it’s time to set aside the hurts of the past, the fear and the shame and turn back to take hold of the love that is still there.

Thank you, Dear Reader, for taking the time for this brief look into the mind of… …Me.


By the way…this fills one blank page. One down and many more to go.


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