We all have differing forms of expression. We may like to sing along with the tunes on the radio, whistle ditties, chatter away to our friends, skip, jump rope, or just quietly muse. A lot of activities, whether writing, singing, painting, photography, are all paths toward expression.

For many years, I had music bubbling up inside. Sometimes it was singing along to the radio, sometimes just whistling little nonsense ditties that came and went, or humming.

But I'd be told to shut up or be quiet (that's too annoying), and the inner wellspring dried up and died. Part of me withered away and died as well.

I got to the point where so many things were bottled up that it all took its toll. I did the blood pressure med thing for a while. At times, I'd try writing or some other outlet, but I didn't feel open enough to share my thoughts, my words, my feelings with the whole world.

And when I did, I normally felt rebuked in some form or fashion, so I'd quit. Enter blogging. I started writing a lot, at first anonymously, although friends and family discovered it soon enough. When those closest to me began to read and explore and analyze my words, then that form of expression withered, too. There were too many 'why's and 'what is that supposed to mean?'

It wasn't supposed to mean anything. It just is, or was.

I picked up the camera, after many years of it laying idle, and started pointing it at things. The feelings I expressed through my shutter did not raise as many questions, and in many ways, this has become the outlet for my inner self that I couldn't find before. Even at that, it became somewhat of a burden at some point. What's the next great shot? Where'd that come from? That's just weird. Too many questions, too many observations and comments. Sometimes, it just is. Accept it.

Too many of my photos are not great. They are mediocre, technically speaking, but when I DO capture the right moment at the right place, then I find a warm, happy spot, whether anyone else appreciates it or not. Sometimes I find those spots in other places and with other tools than my camera. It isn't about the camera. It isn't about perfection.

Of late, I have kept the radio and television turned off more than on. The air conditioner, too. Sometimes, the phone. It's too nice to sit and hear the breeze blowing, the birds singing. Thunder in the distance. The silence and the music of springtime and summertime. There is growth, and peace. Don't ask why. Sometimes, it just is. Accept it.

I am finding in myself, away from the noise of humanity, more of the music of my soul. I find myself making more random comments and word associations. Singing nonsense songs and not being told I can't sing. I enjoy that. I can wear the shirt I like, and I don't usually have to be told it looks dorky. I can breathe. I can sing. I can even bounce like a Tigger if I decide it's the thing to do. It's not about you, or her, or him. It's about Peace. The Peace inside that enables you to BE. To whistle, to sing and dance, to bounce like Tigger.

Embrace it. It's inside of YOU. Find it.

Yes, I am alive.

Just overwhelmed at the moment.

I watched Prince Caspian last night, but it's the only time I've had a TV on in weeks. If I am not working on work, home, or yard, I am tending my farm in FarmTown. Time spent on dA has been minimal, at best. A few weeks ago I walked in downtown Philadelphia on a business trip, early evening, and took some kinda cool photos... Nothing extraordinary but cool. Didn't get here to post them.

Today at lunchtime I was tied up on a telephone meeting with some bosses and coworkers in Minnesota, and then I had to get out and do something. Going stir crazy. So I went across the river and down it to Market Street, which leads back into Harrisburg.

I followed some different streets, wandering, mostly, till I came to an intersection I was familiar with, next to Broad Street Market. As I sat waiting for the light to change, someone did a u-turn in front of me. There was a tractor-trailer trailer parked to my left, and she almost hit it, then had to back up to go around it - and did it just as the light changed. I crept past her, making sure she didn't hit me and turned left onto the street beyond the trailer.

As I did so, I glanced back to make sure I had cleared her and everything and looked up just in time to see a little old lady shuffling across the street in front of me, nowhere near a crosswalk. I was already turning into the right-most of the two lanes - legally I probably should have done a tighter turn into the leftmost of the two lanes, but it's a good thing I turned wider, because I missed her.

I had the window rolled up and the AC on, but still heard, "JESUS CHRIST" yelled at me as I went past. I probably should have seen her before then, but then again, perhaps she should have shuffled her way down to the crosswalk, too. *shrug* What's done is done, but I was a bit shaken by the experience.

Anyhow, moral of the story is, I seem to have a new name.

Love,

J.C.

(OK. Not funny. But it IS a true story.)

PS. I will try to comment more on your deviations but it maybe a while till I get there!!! It's turning into a busy summer so far.