Tag Archives: Wordpress Daily Prompt

WP Daily Prompt: Heard….

I thought I’d heard it all, but I was wrong. Shit-gibbon is now the gold standard. Oh wait! No–what he actually said was “fascist, loofah-faced, shit-gibbon!” Right. Now that is a 14 karat gold standard. Thank you Senator. xoxo


Aesthetic–WP daily prompt

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/aesthetic/”>Aesthetic</a&gt;



stay hopeful

today’s prompt: hopeful. This is one of the last pages of my sketchbook, or maybe call it a playbook. Yeah, playbook. It’s an old family finance record book I picked up for a buck at a goodwill. Make art, stay hopeful. Happy new year, y’all.


WP Daily Prompt: missing

I listened to a talk today by Gil Fronsdal who has a new book out entitled Buddha before Buddhism—it sounds interesting. It’s based on this very old text called the Book of Eights.

The Eights refers to a collection of poems with eight lines each. Gil read one of the poems and it exhorted followers to abandon obsession with the past, thoughts of the future, and basically be in the moment. Not rocket science, but not easy, as it turns out. I mean, if spiritual leaders have focused on being present for like EVER, then it must be more than a little challenging.

Anyway, the poem goes on to suggest abandoning dogma, rules, orthodoxy of any sort as it detracts from being in the moment. Thinking of life after death detracts. Thinking of righteousness detracts. Thinking of sin detracts. Thinking of those many, many ways dogma detracts.

Seriously. And then he said something funny, but also thought provoking. Imagine your neighbor is a religious person and shares all the ways this religion helps her/him through the day with this rule and that belief and this promise. And then she/he asks you what you believe in and you just sort of stand there with nothing to talk about for all that practice of being in the moment.


And in fact, in that nothing, the only thing you supposed to do is be with the nothing. The Nothing Moment. Lame, right? Like this whole team-jersey, book-of-rules belonging gig is completely missing and all you have to show for it is this lousy nothing-moment!

And that, the poem suggests, is the gateway to peace.

Think about it.

WP Daily Prompt: protest

No, dear, that is too easy.

In the target rich environment of our United States right now, protest is a writing prompt in search of its antithesis, if only to give things a little texture, a little variation.

There is virtually nothing happening these days that doesn’t deserve strong protest. The only decision point is selection. Be selective. Make it count. And keep the faith, baby.

WP Daily Prompt: martyr


Modern Martyrs

If a martyr died in a forest

or a city or a desert for that matter

and there was no phone, no internet, no tv

did the martyr die in vain?

WP Daily Prompt: Construct


It turns out, in another of life’s funny little twists, that sometimes who others think we are is more important than who we are.

Take for example the impact of audience on a performer. It goes without saying that the success of a live performance is relational. The audience matters. I went to a concert recently, I won’t name names, but it was made clear that the singer—accustomed to a warmer, more engaged audience than she was getting that night—was displeased. And her displeasure made for a lack-luster performance. For the most part, the audience did not know her. She was part of a season-ticket line-up. I found her subdued but wonderful anyway and wished I’d seen her in her native Portugal, not chilly, rainy Seattle.

Identity is a strange thing. Often molded by what others see, less by one’s true nature. It is a construct we offer the world. And sometimes, the successful construct becomes the thing itself and is perpetuated, exaggerated and amplified by perception, as in an echo chamber.

And if there really is no there-there, no internal stability, that construct will be vastly more comfortable and vital than the confused, murky, unformed fog that  no one really wants. Construct a priori. Works every time.


WordPress Daily: faded


Right out of the gate, the word makes me wistful. One word. It conjures time, not enough time, too much time, time to go, time to stay, time past, time to come, a point in time, time lost.

But these times, right now, are painful, confusing and frightening. Today’s onslaught is quickly buried under tomorrow’s diem horribilis and the beat goes on, each previous outrage a faded reminder of how unprepared we were and still are for what’s coming next.


WP Daily Prompt: pungent


It was odd: here we were, smack in the flat out center of the country, far from the coasts east west and south, and yet that smell was coast, deeply familiar and buried somewhere inside of me. It was the high-tide smell of wet tennis shoes left in the afternoon sun and sand to dry. It was a smell I knew so well, growing up south of LA in a little beach town back when that particular town was actually little.

But here? Where I lived with my husband and two kids? Middle America at its most middle-iciousness, a life far from the salt spray and waves and desert bright sun?

It made no sense: my husband’s running shoes, pungent with the scent of the pacific. I told myself I was imagining things and yet….

He travels for business but never anywhere near the coast. At least as far as I know. I picked up the shoes and inspected them. God, how I hated that smell, and as I knew, once you got your tennis shoes wet at the shore, they were pretty much shot. Like these. I tapped them upside down on the floor and there I found further evidence: tiny mounds of sand, like an hourglass spilling open.

I stepped back. Just then I heard his car pulling into the driveway and felt a tiny shiver of anxiety rise up in my chest.