Old is when....
every single stinkin' night
And that's all she wrote.
One who observes and thinks about what has been seen, what has passed by my way, what greater meaning lies behind and beneath life's small events.
Words linger in silence
Just outside my reach.
Once easily they popped to me,
Now, those damn words will
Scamper and bound away.
#//=&$
Perhaps what scares me most
Is when the words pause in mid sentence,
Leaving my brain
To scramble through the files there,
Searching for the right words.
Words,
words, words.
Words that
sing and shout.
Words that fly
about.
Zing, zap, and
zoom.
Winging
their way with wonder
Denying grasps, causing gasps
Written in 1971, at college during teacher training.
A writer in a hazy world
Is a sad writer.
Brains are independent, if somewhat unpredictable and frustrating. This three-pound organ controls the entire body. But does it really?
Yes, of course it does. The brain somehow managed to give Beethoven his music, and Georgia O'Keefe her art. So what in the world was Toby Turner's brain doing??
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| Friday Night Lights |
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| Many years later.. |
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| Scott |
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| Scott and Vu, now |
| This is what CTE is. |