Comic Book Frog Saves The Day! By Nikki Jauron
The be-boppin' cowgrrl of Minnesota...
She felt her bristles and bent down to find another slight bur in her saddle.
A common occurrence throughout the course of the frigid winters in her life.
With a beautiful hand on her shoulder, tugging at her to get back into the warm cocoon of velvet-soft slumber, she stood with an ache of years and trained if not forced wisdom.
The crick in her back signified an all too common evening's rest.
“I always wondered what I would do if I weren't here. But then again, I really don't have to...”
She sat and looked out the window at the soaring seagull and the blowing bamboo. The words were not coming to her and she wanted to find something more prevalent to spend her time on. Some way to create her space in the world. This story was one that mirrored a similar and familiar story line overall.
Her life, filled with many different plots; love, home, shelter, love, broadening her horizons, the lack of certain understanding from differing people, who seemed to revel in their own attempts to control her and their own outlooks; she perceived as general commonalities throughout a common strand of human understandings.
She thought there were a few things her ex-lover could be hinting at, but she seemed to believe this latest communication was about her apartment, and how her ex thought it wasn't the best place to dwell.
Of course it wasn't the best place, but there could certainly be other places in the world which weren't as blessed, and she lived in them. That was so long ago. Only a year, but none the less, such a long time ago.
She did not sleep like normal people anymore. Her sleep came to her when she was not working or was not collaborating with others during heightened moments of fleeting and brilliant ideas. Her heart was a little heavy and her purpose, more of an organizational mission statement, furthering her involvement in her community at large.
Since the beginning of the dissolved life goals, there had been fights, and anger and angst released in her own therapeutic ways which allowed for a sense of productivity and fulfillment; The kind that snuck up on her in her darkest of hours to release her into the universe and search for an inner level of peace and desire for the betterment of her world. She never forgot what the overall goal of the absolute outcome was, she just knew it would take some time to culminate.
She found a formula was finally working for her, she no longer had to serve within the window of the world to achieve the works she sought out to accomplish.
Always working on the next thing, she satisfied her creative hunger to dwell within the pages she created in order to provide a solace from the rest of the world, so far, free from most criticisms.
Her soundtrack, familiar and sometimes as eclectic as her words and unusual descriptors. She wasn't out to become the person she once wanted to be because she knew she already was.
Her messages, deeply hidden within the therapeutic context of an overall flashing red beacon to the rest of the world. She started with her friends, then, the ripple effect would hopefully take over. She hoped she was loud and unique enough to grasp the attention long enough to create the simple buzzwords that would grasp at the rest of the people who felt the same as she did.
She wasn't looking for a anything but a general purpose that resonated in a calm and soothing way eventually, someday. Someday.
The multi-vitamins and coffee kept her alive and driven to continue to manipulate the language in a creative form of lexiconic-flux which may or may not hold the attention of her readers.
It's true, she was mostly undefined as an artist, but a direct reflection of her environment. Especially during the middle of a crisp and harsh winter. She would cling to tradition and then grasp the ends and bend it to become what she felt was a passionate interpretation of a model in dire need of an upgrade.
Only a handful of friends and admirers would fuel this fire, seemingly small with a definite possibility of catching and creating a tremendous flame of insight, in the most desperate of times, many of them living had seen or experienced in a conscious life experience.
She needed to feel some level of heat, but not too much, as she would grow too comfortable and allow herself to sleep. She thought she might have arrived in the emotional place she longed to experience in a different region of the country, but the overall survival of making it thought this new found location within herself was a little frightening at first.
Her need was reflected through her on-call status as a protector and assistant, which she enjoyed to proclaim through her inner dialogue as a hero of sorts.
She was just above average, and the amount of toil she piled herself under was mostly avoidable in any other situation, but she felt she would grow dull if her world wasn't in constant fluctuation and moment by moment challenges. She wanted so much to create some sustainable work without the organizationally driven scheduling and requirements it took to maintain a multi-million dollar company. She WANTED to prove herself.
She knew she could propagate a successful strategy if she ever got herself up to speed and ran through the monotony of the constant struggle of being such a small fish in a beautiful and large ocean... She knew she had what she needed. The love she sent out, came back. And just in time, too.
Her thoughts of school and expectations and other people's motivation took a backseat to the driven kinetic force found within every project she took on. The amount of drive she created from the slightest of smiles of the welcoming individuals in her present life was enough energy to create a perpetual recreation of a successful form of love for her spectacular craft and her reasons for doing such.
While the production was in session, she though sparingly of how a scholar would look at her grammar usage, because at this point, with every thought, she was recreating the English language and the syllabic rhythms she was immersed within.
This wasn't the first endeavour she had taken on as a dreamer and thinker. She had been criticized many a time for thoughts and beliefs and random bits of general participation with the rest of the world. It seemed as though she was back in high school again, trying to fit in. She had always wanted to be the girl she wasn't in high school, but after a hard half-decade's worth of presumed adult life, this wasn't the game she remembered at all. The rules didn't seem to change, at least in her mind. She always continued to struggle to gain ground.
Some moments and experiences elevated her to a place where she was freely criticized by her previous peers and mentors, and if she still didn't love every one of them, there would truly be something out of balance. She continuously struggled to be part of the group, and do the NORMAL things adults and families do in this Modern American cultural experiment. It was wonderful to believe she could have this dream as well.
After all, this was what she was preened for. Her education didn't allow her to fully experience life outside the box. She immersed herself in worlds of distance and wonder and she began to seek places in her world where her ideas would be welcomed with the most heartfelt regards.
She embraced the music. She loved the music. She could be anyone she could pull off as a character if and when the energy flowed and was welcomed by the crowd.
Again, there was always a certain level of misunderstanding, but when one is introduced to the cultural boundaries placed in the effort of keeping the subcultures in the given range, it can take a little time to understand the unspoken faux-pas that will inevitably occur... Only placing you a few steps back from where you began, but it still hurts to lose ground, and no one want to cause a scene when it's not needed. (But it always helps to know how to pull your clout and play it off coolly.)
And so she had the most beautiful of dreams that came to fruition and hopefully beyond, where she had some beautiful experience.
Yeah, hmm this was beyond a level of love story she had ever experienced. A level of love where she lived and let and it was the most difficult part to pull off because as some wonder-lusted individual in many other ways this was something she could not seem to get beyond.
Oh, yeah, she did and believed this level of intuition was so much more than strong and obvious; the others who saw and watched seemed to see the play between them, and she reveled in it, and she was not the only one... Ever.
Since the beginning she was always able to leave it up to her being succumbed to some level of amazing power. Her craft. Her love, her everything was for some unusual development, not yet apparent to any or any of the players who sought to play the parts as an insider or an outsider. What was this it was untitled as of yet.
And then she slipped out of a story and fell right into another one as powerful as everything she'd ever experienced. She took a deep breath and let the feelings flow freely and humanly. Of course, she really had no other choice.
The golden glow of the coming dusk signified her power time, and with this she felt the rift in the general feeling of the afternoon, the breezy and unusually warm day overtaken by the accentuating parameters of continuous rotation of celestial masses, felt through the entire world in a routine, but ever so slightly melodic fashion, with a gentleness so blind to the world, the powers of the bodies could not be measured with the accuracy of the most sensitive of human minds.
She was so stirred, in fact, she didn't even realize what she was doing most of the time, in a very infrequent manner, she was as driven to pull it out any way she could, but this was all automatic and so beyond conscious comprehension, she often had to go back and check her work for a level of understanding at a presumably higher level of comprehension than she could even imagine sustaining.
...Of course, the best part about writing with a wreckless sense of abandon and free spirit is always looking back the day later and thinking, “Wow! I was really in the zone, wasn't I..?”
This snippet will leave all of humanity scritching their heads, for quite some time...
Yeah, that's pretty RAD..
“...Welcome young Comic Book Frog... Your journey is about to begin.”
The Day Before The Historic Inauguration. 01.19.09.
I've been having quite a day. Fortune cookies, coffee, and conversation.
Confirmations, a relationship confirmed, a load of books arrived.
One signed and sent off.
Now how to unload 25 books and keep the momentum going.
My formula is just about figured out, and I love the notion that in addition to my actual game plan, I think this will actually work properly. Well, It'll work on paper... Good thing I'm an author. :)
If I have to make it look good on paper, then that's within my parameters as a writer and an entertainer anyway, isn't it?
I certainly hope so...
Martin Luther King Jr's Birthday.
What I can tell you today, as a member of a generation who grew up without the 'supposed' blatant segregation of this country's history is how slow the process of change and understanding of differing cultures has occurred.
I have also wondered why the lines drawn to still fit the various aspects of discrimination acceptably within this community are allowed to exist. I think it's hilarious and overly rampant; the notion of equality has to be a relevant topic in society.
As a child, I knew the derogatory words associated with race made me feel uncomfortable. As a child, these words were hurtful, and we are still battling with the notions of previous generations who went through the Civil Rights movement, and just to spite, it seems sometimes, the ideas and hurtful messages are continued for no reason other than the justification to speak what people want without question, and within their legal rights to say such things.
The people who choose to use such language are within their rights, but it doesn't mean the lame jokes should be looked upon as anything other than alienating groups of people a jokester may or may not have experience interacting with. I am constantly battling with my brother over this one. Why? Because when he acts ignorant, and he's related to me, it makes it even more difficult to justify my understanding and level of awareness. Am I being too self-centered? Should I just shine him on like the rest of my 'educated' family does? Why do I feel so raw and misunderstood?
I suppose I could chalk it up to my role as the uncaring, hard, enforcer everyone created as my personal role in my family unit as I was younger... It's hard to come to the realization as a grown, woman that I will never be anything to my family other than who I was 'while I lived under the roof.'
The memories of a family seem to keep everyone stuck in a concrete mold. Still trying to relive the past holiday feasts that were so special.
Now the conversations aren't about glued construction paper & glitter ornaments, but how many points they have to consume within a reasonable diet level, and how my attire is anything but socially acceptable, and how will anyone ever take me seriously when I wear shirts I have owned for 20 years?
Or will I grow up to be the loon I never wanted my mother to be, and just not seem to care about the things she used to love & accept the concept that life is all about the next bad thing or unavoidable accident?
Really, I think it's great she loves sending pic mail to my cell phone, and the latest effects she adds to my dad's picture makes him look eerie and purple and deceased... I showed it to a few friends, and we all agreed, the color made him look like he was not of this world anymore and it was creepy, and certainly not something a mom who loved her husband would send out as a funny picture to her adult children. Maybe I am a little more sensitive than I used to be...
Yes, yes I am, and I am completely justified in being so.
But still, the struggle to seek myself and regain some level of average emotional ground has been a rough road. My work is based upon my ability to accept my own vulnerability and embrace some of my most intricate spirits and inner workings.
As an individual trying to find the best balance between being true to myself and my other loved ones, many times the looks of amazement are devoted to comments I make. All the while, the majority of my comment will not be inquired upon for the basis of clarification, if there is any question as to the comprehension of the completed message... I will be the one holding onto a frustration based upon another's individual lack of understanding.
The communication. I ramble on with some cool idea I didn't think to mold for the benefit & vitality of an AMAZING concept, for the alert & hungry minds of the listener; who's attention I probably exhausted by this point. Ha-ha. Oh the fun!
The fortunes of the day:
“You will Have Great Fortune And Luck...”
Nikki says: In an attempt to create some amazing piece of unheard modern wisdom, in the greatest veins of human understanding, all I can really tell you is to enjoy the fuzzy & sweet warmness of being a happy, little, human creature. :)
“You Will Be Fortunate in Everything You Put Your Hands To...”
Nikki says: In an attempt to create some amazing piece of unheard modern wisdom, in the greatest veins of human understanding, all I can really tell you is to enjoy the fuzzy & sweet warmness of being a happy, little, human creature. :)
“You Are the Center of Every Group's Attention...”
Nikki says: In an attempt to create some amazing piece of unheard modern wisdom, in the greatest veins of human understanding, all I can really tell you is to enjoy the fuzzy & sweet warmness of being a happy, little, human creature. :)
“You Will Receive A Promotion Soon.”
Nikki says: Okay... Look... I've been in line for a promotion for over a year now...
So the fortune cookies foretell... I'm not sure what it is exactly...
But I've known about it for quite a while now...
… Now if you could only tell me when SOON is, exactly...
Yeah... Thanks. That'd be great... :)
Sitting here waiting for your message to get through.
This morning, you unknowingly cut the power to half the neighborhood by turning on the dryer. Yes, we both know it was your extra effort. What else could it have possibly been?
We sat in the dark for a little while, happily cuddling each other. We slept another hour or so, and then, in a random instant, in my half-sleep, half-awake mode, asked how you would be notified of your alarm, the moment after I asked, as if by magic, the power came back on again.
Less than a moment later, I was accepting acknowledgement as it was my question that brought the power back to the neighborhood again as if I were willing it back.
And here we sit, miles apart, both coming to the agreement we possess strong powers we still need to learn how to hone.
You're in class, and I'm stretching my leg across the old leather couch at the coffee shop that holds so many tiny pieces of my modern history...
This place has been part of my creative sources for over five years now.
I have written songs here. I have played here; hosted open mics, shared playdates with my little girl & our wonderful resident boy.
Donating funds and time to keep the place alive during the rougher times. Both financially and personal.
I don't know why I love this establishment so much, it's so much like my second home, my living room during the day.
I have just become accustomed to the notion of arriving here every day and doing work I am in love with.
Is this what life is all about?
Friday, January 16, 2009
In
My Dreams...
Current
mood:
thoughtful
1. I was hand feeding a grizzly bear cat food.
He was unaware of his size, he just knew I provided treats and food and I was an alpha, of some sort. Providing love and assistance.
I was placing a human man in a kennel.
I
was in a place I frequent in my dreams; a place with aquariums full
of exotic and unimaginable fish not known in this world of the
living.
There was another lion male, same size, medium-sized
dog-like. Could have been the same for all I know. He knew me.
*Ohh
I didn't tell you about the Lion in my dream yesterday..*
Beluga whales, and Sea Lions, and other baleen creatures, and an
official woman asked me what I thought about the ocean, I told her my
mom was a marine resource management major, so she would know better
than I would about temperatures and sea conditions.
People
were wondering about a possible hurricane. My mom said there needed
to be one more baleen species present for the hurricane to occur.
I
searched the coves and beaches and underwater, I found the usual
suspects, starfish, and anemone, live sand-dollars, I felt like I
needed to see a walrus, but I knew they weren't found in these
coastal waters.
I
saw right whales, and orcas.
An Orca and a Beluga were
fighting against each other. I was concerned, cause it's not at all
common to see the two fighting at all. I couldn't tell which one got
out worse, but I think they were alright. I couldn't find the
additional baleen mammal. It was just another wintry, stormy sea.
2.
I was in a dream sequence I had been in during a dream sequence where
I had been before, watching all water spouts to ensure there wasn't a
great white coming out of the bathtub. Much like my grandfather's
house as I see it when I visit in my dreams. It was the filming of a
movie.
I
was also attending a wedding. On the beach.
3. I was at the old
Safeway
on Halsey in the San Rafel Parking lot, sliding in the snow on a skim
board. I was driving in the snow. Having fun. There was a man,
low-income, he was enjoying the snow as well.
I asked the
store employees if they could get me into the Olympics as a
competitor. They seemed to have the ability, and they seemed to be
pondering the thought.That was just the dream sequence from this
afternoon.
4. This morning, I was in a TV show of sorts. There
was some sort of battle, I was part of the FBI, my bullets were
traceable.
We found a place where we could hide until we were picked up... There was a road and a smaller road through the bushes, the info was radioed to us. We followed. It was summer, and the green plants were in bloom. We crossed the road and the smaller road turned out to be a cool spring.
We
plunged in, didn't have much choice, there was no bank, it just went
straight down.
We looked down the water way a little and saw a
little girl in a zebra costume. She
told us this is where people go to rest their bones.
At that moment, we began to feel what were presumed as rib bones, and
skulls under out feet. The spring was filled with human bones. Washed
clean, just the cool bones remained.
We became quite surprised,
and the next scene was in a hospital with a woman we considered a
friend, and she asked if we got the job done.
She
seemed in good health and spirits.
I told her, I believed we did.
3:21 PM
Monday, January 12, 2009
She Said..
Current mood: artistic
She said she wanted to do something else.
I agreed, she should do what she wanted.
She said she wanted to see the world. I said I would go with her.
I said I would even take her.
I painted the picture. I made the promise. She loved Egypt.
I wasn't as inspired by the desert, but I was going anyway.
She said she wanted to see the world.
I said I did too. And I do. I still want to see the world.
She said she wanted to...
I said I wanted to...
We both did.
We all loved.
We all saw it coming.
I saw it coming.
Not sure if she did.
And now, here we are...
On opposite sides of the world.
We all took the plunge.
We all stepped foot outside our doors and we all split.
We all took out our hearts willingly.
Knowing the amount of effort it would take to replace it.
Or so we thought.
I'm still going through the motions.
I'm still piecing things back together.
I'm more aware of everything, except her.
I haven't taken many trips to that side of the world, but I overlooked her a few nights ago.
Unknowingly.
That night. Was a night of revisiting many things.
Thinking about many things.
Retracing steps, walking the tightrope.
I've practiced, I've performed. I've had the ability to become somewhat complacent at times, but only for a short while.
Only when others are not involved within the moment it takes to grasp onto the sensation of peeling some sort of lesson from the thick and bitter skin of it all.
We all submerged.
We all sank.
We seemed at times to feel like our end was not in sight.
En route to the ends of the Earth to try and reconcile.
Without promise, without knowledge of where our next bit of energy would arrive.
Living as a survivalist.
Knowing the skin would slip down our throats; thinking partly about how our bodies would respond to the quivering descent of the one thing keeping us alive until our future bouts of lucky fortune.
I chose to take every step. I made the effort to plunge in. I began to question and wonder and offer gratitude, moment by moment,
because it made me feel better about the final destination.
Here I am, day by day. Believing my work will be worthy. Believing in my heart everything would happen the way it's supposed to.
Living in the moment, but wanting so much of my future dreams to present themselves in the now.
Living to become so aware, I step right into my ultimate. Within a moment. Everything I want begins to arise, from the earth like
some fantasy scene out of a japanime, when the earth is barren and I am at the controls of a robo suit in the shape of a red panther...
Shock absorbers working at maximum as the dust flies with each step, but so quickly I move, I cannot see my trail of aftermath.
Only craters in the dust of the canyon. Battling pirates, and fighting for an entity larger and capable of funding my expeditions of further self growth and world conquest, in whichever means they formulate.
Some comic book character, a player, a member of a specialized sect of multi-cultural people, awaiting the next small town, so I can taste the native waters and appreciate the natural spring waters keeping the community alive and vibrant.
The towns people will come out to greet us. Contracting us out to seek out their pirates and place them in subordination. By any means necessary.
By any means necessary.
I wonder about their pirates. What makes them work against the mission of the masses, the mighty.
But who are truly the mighty?
The meak, as a communal mass, or the ones who choose to go against the grain, knowing there's more out there?
Who is the real hero?
Who is the real villain?
Whose side am I on?
There is no side.
There is only IS.
There is only AM.
I chose PM and early AM.
Doing my best work when I am to the point of exhaustion, and just about expired, as it keeps the importance and urgency at the forefront of the intent I place upon the task at hand.
It gives me a chance to deconstruct the knowledge I have gained the entire day, and then create a calculated decision as to how I am able to resolve the issue and meet my criteria.
... Well, mostly.
Cheers.
-M
3:17 PM
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Challenge Is...
Current mood: inquisitive
Holding on with everything I have.
The slight of hand.
Slight of habit.
Slight of glance.
I sometimes look for your expression when
I know you aren't looking in my direction.
I feel it today. You're gentle and so intent.
You make me love something I haven't.
Much...
Whispers of comments...
Accidental, but truthful.
Mesmerizing.
I'm thinking of Russian Male names...
Demetri, comes most frequently to mind.
Prince Vlad... Probing... Rather intently.
The Impaler... Quite fitting, actually...
A Spike... Without the solo.
My wry grin.
Currently.
Recalling the faintest flavor of another's life blood.
I suckle softly.
Time.
Flows.
So.
Quickly.
It's a wonder I grasp so calmly.
My cellular activity is hardly as calm as I am, seemingly on the outside.
-M
1:32 PM
Saturday, January 10, 2009
The Blog Driver is slow on the draw.. Maybe I Can Kick It Into High Gear!
Current mood: blissful
So yeah, I am her. I am her.
She is present in my thoughts, my heart, my mind.
So I can ask her what is really going on with it, and so I presume I do have all the answers.
So I ask her, what she thinks of me...
She begins by taking a deep breath through her eyelids, and slowly brings her focus back to me.
With a deep and heavy sigh.
She replies.
With another question.
I tease her, playfully, and she backs away, telling me the quaintness has faded.
I listen to her body language immediately, and give in. She wins, always.
It's really not all that difficult to allow her to take control, as I am not so consumed with my power I'm willing to fight her
for it.
I love being the Silver Medalist in this instant, as we both succeed.
I wait a little longer to go and ask her one more time.
Only, this time, the content is different.
I want to tell her how prevalent she is in my art, in my heart, in my life, in my head.
She plays the therapist. The topics come up one by one.
I don't stumble over myself to divert my attentions, but I come so close to blaring out the painfully obvious.
I wonder how she'd respond if I spilled my guts right there and asked for a towel...
Entrails of human emotion, the likes of which couldn't be anything but pure and genuine.
Playing so coy. Such a twisted, convoluted game of numbers!
I want to say so much more, but focus is wisped away at the appearance of a breath.
My brain, twisting around my riddles of truth.
My body, conspiring with my heart to spill.
To tell the tale I want to dog-ear, at this very moment.
My soul grapples with myself, being in this space.
So what's the next question?
Blessed Be, gentle creatures, gentle hearts, sweet loves, beautiful humans.
I felt so wonderfully comfortable.
So yeah, I am her. I am her.
The content has enveloped the spirit; the souls, two similar, seeking similar.
Two directions, not as ships passing, but as a small battalion of frigates. Tiny in the ginormous seas, no coast in sight, just
continuing on the navigated destination. Taking on the briny oceans, washing the old caked, salt away from the top decks, while
the fragile sailors take refuge in our bellies.
Each one a goal, a direction, a dream.
Our objective, to get them all back safely and for the better, back to their home ports. Wherever they may be.
I don't know which fortunes and treasures she carries home. It doesn't matter, so much.
I know she's sturdy and will make her way through the rough seas, with little a care, arriving periodically to get the barnacles
brushed off before her next departure.
Her previous Captain, drug her through the rocks and aground a few times that I've known of... Unknown how many others were aware... Her crew, my crew, one in the same.
My survival, depends mildly upon her ability to endure the rough and tumble of the elements.
Her survival depends mildly upon my ability to recruit and keep a crew.
Our companionship is based mostly upon the professional interconnectedness of our surroundings.
She has seen me cast to the rocks, and whipped by the tropical winds.
She has watched as my fragile sailors have been lost at sea.
She has seen the introduction of my new captains and crew.
Oh, the changes she's seen.
My transformations as a spiritual vessel have been numerous.
Well, not numerous, but certainly significant.
From going from RIVAL, to Wary Visitor, to Co-conspirator, to Enigmatic Comrade, and Initiation, to...
Well, what am I now?
My namesake, imprinted upon my chest, my mission, pulled me away from our routine destinations.
The future, known, yet unknown. Destination still uncharted, but as for me, I will continue to cast a greeting from the Bow at our future ports.
I trust our alliance will only increase, as my humility will always be offered to my traveling companion.
May our paths always seem to keep us in the same hemisphere, and may the warmth of our camaraderie provide a safe haven full of
cheer and good spirits.
Until the next, Romeo.
Much, Love, Yo.
-M
6:53 PM
Wednesday, January 10, 2008
Back From Reality.
Current mood: amorous
To be held in a set of strong, loving arms.
To love me as I am in all my less than splendor.
To love me for my gentleness, and my tenderness.
To even understand when I'm needing to step away from the desk. I know if you need me, you'll bump me.
To have my absolute attention.
To have your absolute attention.
To understand when I respond while you're still half way through your sentence; it's a call and response.
To believe I have opened up.
To believe I still have some opening up to do.
To know I don't have to tell you everything.
To know I CAN tell you everything.
To believe in the world.
To believe in the power of my wishes.
To know everything works.
To alleviate my anxiety over my loved ones.
To wonder what my tattoo would be if I were to get one.
To listen to what you said.
To know I don't have to probe you for all your knowledge either.
To know you and I feel each other.