The first blog every I read...

...was the one put up by Neil Gaiman.
I picked up a copy of his Neverwhere and fell totally in love with his writing style.

Much like my experience with Gurdjieff, I wondered if he had written anything else.

When I googled him, it somewhat amazed me that there was already a small
cult following. Every time I think I've found something new and cool,
it always happens that a million people have beat me to it.



This started as a comment on Neil Gaiman's blog and turned into a walk down memory lane.

The point I intended to make is that producing a blog similar in intensity to Neil Gaiman's
has been my goal. There were two or three paragraphs of excuses running through my head
which almost were written, but all of them boil down to lack of commitment to the trade.

There is SO much writing in so many forms these days, that to be a Writer is no longer clearly defined,
but seems to be a needed profession in much the same way the farmer or hunter was not that long ago.

With my over a half of century of experiences behind me, the noble thing to do would be to write about
the more interesting parts, meaning the parts that happened in the first 32 years, before I was put on hold
by a date with the front of a truck.

Before that date, I wrote poetry, sculpted and went to every museum and library within fiscal reach.

After the date, I found solace in just waking up alive every day.

The desire for adventure of any sort was almost cut out of me.

Near Death for the fifth or sixth time should be a lesson to the smartest of the few
who make it past the last time. For me the fear of being timid far exceeds the fear
of dying. Make sense out of that and I will spend time on your couch saying confession.

Enough baring of the soul.

=30=