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Thursday, December 1, 2011

Organize your XXXX in Word Files

Organize the Outhouse of my Mind

In a fuddle this morning. Need to clean out, throw away and start new.
 "If a thing can be done adequately by means of one, it is superfluous to do it by means of several; for we observe that nature does not employ two instruments [if] one suffices." Thomas Aquinas





Finished the first draft of next novel, working title Eco Terrorist. I might call her Soothsayer, but that leads to another story further taking me off point. I am giving the book a rest for a week. Working on short fiction that needs polishing after a cold trip. Organizing and planning back at home today. The wind rocked the house something wild last night. Electric charges from the dry ions are irritating my muse. My sweet gum trees in the front in painted blaze have thrown their souls all over the canyon.  One mess of crimson, rust and magenta is in the bottom of my pool and the gutters towards the ocean.

After travelling this week to Canada I want to thank again all the wonderful people who were supportive and amazing open, giving, and participated in the performances. Poetry is alive and well. I met college students, teens, bikers, cowboys, and truck drivers who are now part of my family.

Returning to my messy mind, I ask those Santa Ana winds for solutions. Does anyone else have this stupid problem? I save a file in Word and give it a title, next I add a numerical date, but other copies of the same file duplicate as a) Backup of xyz title  and b)xyz title with similar date and c) I might have a word doc a worddocx an HTML and some other copies of the same file. I attempted to merge these ten pieces but it is frustrating to the point of crazy making. There must be a better system to organize my writing.

I want to store all the poetry and flash pieces in some easy to recall order.
There are about two hundred short stories and flash fiction pieces unpublished that I need to edit down and keep clean copies.
I also have hundreds of film clips and thousands of photographs.
I think I need a personal secretary who can live inside my computer and just talk to me when I sleep.

Time for bleach, lists, throwing away a bunch of junk and general cleanup.  I will back up all the creations into folders and put them on a seperate hard drive to open one at a time. Simplfy the work into pieces to cut copy and paste.

The photograph above is a working outhouse, I do not have one at the Wyoming ranch, but  feels like my mind today. I spare you the word (xrap) in the title.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Christmas Book Prizes Coming Soon



 CHRISTMAS IS COMING
the goose is getting fat

In the spirit of the upcoming season I just want to tell you I am giving away free stuff.

Why are these silly monks on here? Because they are in Chapter One of The Lucky Boy.
I am giving away six of these fat guys with book coupons.
All you have to do is ask.

More prizes to come in the next days.
Coffee prizes ( because we can't give away drugs like in the book).
Perfume prizes, yes girls.
Fight tickets, yes men.
Maybe even some boots ( Seth steals boots in the book).
They won't be Santa Boots.

Rules coming soon.
Maybe no rules at all just participate.
I just hope Santa gets my book printed on time.
Snoopie happy dance.

Shadow's Murder at Connyland





Shadow’s
Murder
at Connyland



Rain on crystals of the chandelier.

The shards slip on my woolly sweater.

Oatmeal raisin as the smell of wet sheep.

Humans sell birdbaths with heaters.

Swiss partiers murdered Shadow,

by driving nails in her inner ear

pounded by careless lovers,

look away when striking,

ignore their emails.

Salt water freezes

at negative twenty-one.

A stranger carried my box of books

to the finish line for free with ice breath smile.

While you shrug off the shame of snowflakes so they won’t stain.

Can a dolphin thaw from the terror of methanphetamine in the tank?


Copyright © Caroline Gerardo 11/29/2011








Sunday, November 27, 2011

Turmeric Birthday Cake




Aspen Womb
Joy grows inside me.

20 years of Mom choices.

The back of the earrings lost.

The clapper located your keys.

Now I map my way.

Write your own plan well.

Unlimited by constraints of time,

the sieve between life and death.

The moment when golden light hits

Tuscan monstrosity across the canyon.

Don’t look that way-

Reach past the aspen grove dancing.

Fly upon that last single leaf towards ocean,

where slivers of seaweed touch shoulders as

swimming towards turmeric islands.


 I’ll pull if you need help.

On this birthday fly and touch the sun.

Copyright
©
 Caroline Gerardo all rights reserved for photographs, video, flash poetry and sound
For my daughter Blair's birthday 11/26/2011
©http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0064FOCZOCopyright All rights reserved Caroline Gerardo 11/26/2011

Friday, November 25, 2011

Friend Poetry

Facebook Friends

Joan Pond sent me this short poem on Facebook.
 Below is my response.


I saw the sign on the pole.


Missing sofa--- please call.

I envisioned some grand settee,

off on a journey.

Its wooden legs

... taking it cross town.

Had it been unhappy at home?

If they'd known, would therapy have helped?

Perhaps a furniture intervention.

Psychologists would say,

re-upholstering could bolster the ego.

It's sad when furniture

suddenly goes astray.
 
 
 
 
Copyright 2011 Joan Pond
Please go to Facebook to see her photograph
"I saw the sign on the pole."


...

Photograph is different on Facebook if you want to go look at the thread

"My Sofa"

His name was Sofa

The chenille of his mane

brushes lonely and skinny.

Wishing changes life.

A basket of granny smiths arrives

early and crunchy in the morning,

he won’t run away.
 
Copyright 11/24/2011 Caroline Gerardo
 
 
Please supply your response or flash fiction and join in.