At the Beach

Hello all. Here I am again writing. Writing ... I keep trying to figure-out what I want to be when I grow-up. I feel like I haven't found my life’s calling. My friend Elise keeps telling me, "Brian, you are a writer. You keep trying to get away from that. It's what you are. Be a writer."

I find though, that the more I am around writers I realize, a writer I'm not. I don't see myself as one of these people. It just seems a lot like theater work where you are always auditioning, concerned about where your next job will be. I can't live with that kind of uncertainty. Then there’s the "tude" where I find writers to be really highfalutin and a little to talkative. Sometimes I want to tell my friend Polly to shut-up, if I have to hear the detailed descriptions of how you think red is better than pink, I think I'll slit my wrists. Finally, the nail in the coffin was last night when Patty was reading an email from a script-writer friend of hers. He used the word “accolades” in a sentence. And, I just thought wow, I am not a writer. People who are writers use words like “accolades” in sentences. So that was my realization, and so ... in your face Elise!

I think I'd like to work with animals. Maybe get in to working with their behaviors. That's always interested me. Like most animal lovers I'm enthralled with animal’s personalities and their capacity for thought and feelings. Did you know, if you tied food to the end of a line and dangle it from a second line tied between two poles a Crow is smart enough to pull the sting up with its beak to get the food, and in some cases untie the knot that secures it.

I'd also like to be more visually creative. I would like to take more photography classes. I love taking pictures. The beach was beautiful that day.



The waves were pretty high this day, of course you always snap the picture and it's too late



Then the water came on the shore and went around these rocks. I thought it made an interesting pattern.