Create Art Podcast

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 10 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

10 Nov 2020  1867  daily count   17897 cumulative count

                The day stayed peaceful and the park was quiet all morning. Carl had to stand up a few times as he was falling asleep on the picnic table bench. He had made good progress through the book and felt the relaxation that Cheryl and Nate had promised would happen if he took time for himself. It was nearing noon and he did feel a few pangs of hunger. The coffee was gone and all he had in the car was a few water bottles he kept in case of emergency. He walked back to the car and debated on if he wanted to leave for lunch or just bring back a water bottle and continue reading. That debate didn’t last long as he sat in the car and turned it on. He would grab some food at the coffee shop and check in on Cheryl’s progress.

                The drive wasn’t as quick as when he drove out to the park. The lunch rush was happening all over the town and cars were lined up at every food establishment. He made it to the coffee shop and had to park two clocks away. The line was out the door as it was yesterday, and he sat in his car debating on waiting out the crowd or just going home for lunch.  Finished his water bottle, he decided to go ahead and brave the crowd. Standing in line alone, he was able to overhear conversations from the people in front of him but paid them no mind. He didn’t recognize many of those in line as he usually packed his lunch for work and ate it in the lunchroom or in his car.

                When he got up to the counter, Cheryl had a disapproving look on her face. He knew that she would scold him for coming in early and not taking the entire day to himself. Stephanie was taking his order.

                “I’ll have a pastrami with swiss, hold the sauerkraut, sweet potato fries and a red eye please,” said Carl.

                “Carl, two days in a row having lunch here, you are making this a habit. I am sure there are a few tables on the patio and I will run back there when your food is up. That will be nine fifty,” said Stephanie.

                “Well the service is great and the food is wonderful, I should have had lunch here every day. Now the barista, she needs to smile more,” joked Carl.

                “And someone needs to rest more,” said Cheryl overhearing his conversation.

                “I did, I went to the park and knocked out thirty pages of my book. A guy has got to eat to keep up his strength with all this relaxation stuff, I never knew it took so much out of a person,” laughed Carl.

                Cheryl quickly made the red eye with only a half shot of espresso and handed it to Carl as he walked by. She looked at him sternly, and then started to giggle as he looked at her sheepishly.

                “I’ll give you a holler when your food is up. I’ll have them make it to go so you can get back to the park and rest, and I mean it,” said Cheryl.

                “Yes ma’am, understood,” said Carl.

                He took his red eye to the patio and waited for his name to be called. He did enjoy the care that Cheryl did display to him, it wasn’t a romantic thing, at least not from his end. He just enjoyed having someone else besides family care about him. He thought about playing the exercise that he sowed Cheryl yesterday, but he left his notepad in the car. He sat at the table, alone in his thoughts, barely listening to the din of the other patrons’ discussions. He realized it had been a good day, even with the weirdness of the father and the child and the car in the park, he would tell Cheryl about that when he came back after her shift to help her with her assignment.  The more he thought about it the more he thought he was just being paranoid, and he would appreciate her dismissing his encounter as coincidence.

                “Carl, your To Go order is ready,” yelled Cheryl.

                Carl instantly shook himself out of his thoughts and went to the counter picking up his lunch. Cheryl grabbed his coffee and refilled it for him. Once done she handed it back.

                “Now I don’t want to see you for a few hours, preferably until tomorrow, go get some rest,” she said forcefully.

                “You got it, a few hours. I promise to rest,” said Carl.

                He left the coffee shop and walked the two blocks to his car feeling good. He started to drive toward the last park and was at hoping it would still be empty and quiet. When he got to the park there were still no cars and the day was beautiful. Once he parked, he got out and headed toward the picnic tables again with his lunch, book, coffee and the last water bottle in his car. Once again, he faced his car to see if anyone pulled up and began to eat with relish. The food was very filling and the coffee kept him perky. Listening to the birds chirping and the wind blow through the trees, he started to lose track of time and eventually looked down at his phone, it was five thirty. He had missed the end of Cheryl’s shift. He decided to go home and watch a movie for the rest of the day. His brother and Cheryl were right, he needed to clear out his mind as he had learned from studying Taoism in college, in fact he had done this type of meditation in college when things got hectic and that is why he was able to push through and make good grades.

                On the drive back he went by the coffee shop to see if Cheryl might be there waiting for him, but didn’t see her car, so he continued home. There he noticed the dishes that he forgot to finish from the night before and began to run the water until it became hot and pour soap over the dishes. Putting on some music he looked out the window over the sink and fell into his relaxed state. He had these times when ironing clothes or mopping floors. With his music on he simply forgot the action he was doing and just stared out into space. With the last dish being washed, he turned on the tv and decided that he had finished enough of the book today, he would pick it back up at work tomorrow during a break. Before the movie had gotten halfway through, he was lightly snoring on the couch fast asleep.

                The next morning greeting him, still asleep on the couch but now with a stiff neck.  The couch was comfortable enough, but the pillows did not give much comfort to him. The time was six thirty according to the blue numbers from his cable box. He had enough time to shower, eat breakfast and hit the coffee shop to scout out the man and his daughter for Cheryl. He was not sure how he would approach the man or what he would say, but he was ready to help Cheryl anyway he could. A bit of anxiety crept into his mind, because he did not want to scare the kid. He decided that he would try not to think about it until he got to the shop. After showering and shaving in the stall he toweled off and put on his work clothes. It had been two days since he had been in and he knew that he would be playing catch up for the rest of the week. He went through the tasks he was sure to be tasked with once he got in, he felt ready to head out and get the first part of the day over with.

                Getting into his car, the anxiety turned up a couple of notches. He still was not sure how to approach the man and thought it might be better to avoid the shop that morning. But he had made a promise to Cheryl and he was not in the habit of not coming through, besides the way her voice sounded worried about the situation, he did not want her to have to face it alone. Once he got into the parking lot, he saw the car that the man and his daughter drove in. It looked like the car in the parking lot at the first park, it was a common make and model, and it was greyish silver, another common color for most cars. There was no turning back now, maybe the man would already be in the bathroom and leave like he did the previous times.

Carl walked in a bit unsteady. He made it to the counter and Cheryl was there to greet him. He looked around the coffee shop and it had a few people, but he focused on the man and his daughter. They were sitting in the same spot as last time, near where Carl liked to recline on the couches. He looked at Cheryl who already had his drink order done and his bagel ready to go.

                “Like clockwork, eight thirty,” she said softly to Carl.

                “Okay, well I will just go over there and sit down and try to spark up a conversation. We will see what is going on,” replied Carl.

                He grabbed his drink and food and looked at his watch, he would need to hurry this up because he needed to be at work n later than nine thirty. Sitting down on the couch he pulled out his book, took a drink of the coffee to gain some courage, took a few bites of the bagel and one more sip of coffee. Just as he was about to speak the man looked over at him.

                “Hey, Carl right, I need to hit the restroom, can you watch my girl while I am in there, I’d appreciate it,” the man said.

                “Yeah sure no problem, remember where the bathroom is, “Carl asked?

                “Oh yeah over by the patio, just be  few minutes,” the man turned to the girl, “ now be nice and stay here until I get back okay, Carl will watch over you while I am gone.”

                “Okay,” the girl said with a sign as she returned to reading her book.

                The man got up and headed straight for the bathroom as Carl turned to look at the girl closely.

                “He’ll be right back, coffee does that to adults. I know it does it to me all the time. So what are you reading,” Carl asked the girl.

                “My dad said I shouldn’t talk to strangers, “replied the girl.                “You are very right and you should listen to your dad, I’m just going to stay here until he gets back like he asked. If you need anything just let me know okay,” said Carl. He was already regretting getting into this situation. He felt like a creep with the stranger remark.  

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 9 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

9 Nov 2020   1559   daily count 16030 cumulative count

                Carl stared at the two as they left the shop. He saw them get into a car but he could not make out what the father was saying to his daughter. It didn’t appear that he was yelling at the girl, but the way he mouthed his words was very stern. When they pulled out into the street Carl got back to reading his book and drinking his coffee.

                After about thirty minutes, Cheryl approached Carl.

                “See what I mean, kinda weird, its not me,” she said with the same worry in her voice.

                “I didn’t get a great vibe off of them, he seems very dominant and naturally the girl is submissive. I am not sure if anything weird is going on there. He doesn’t seem like a druggie, but it is odd that they are coming in and essentially sitting around here mid-morning. I’ll drop in tomorrow like I said and try to spark up a conversation. They have been getting here at eight thirty right,” asked Carl?

                “Almost on the dot for the past few days. I appreciate you getting involved, I know it’s not your job and this is your relaxation place,” said Cheryl.

                “No worries, tell you what, when I was in college taking theater classes we did an exercise where we would sit in a café and make up stories of people who were in the café. It gave us tons of content for plays or background character studies. That might help you with your dialogue assignment,” said Carl.

                “Let’s give it a try, the shop is pretty slow right now. How do you know all this theater stuff though, your degree isn’t in the arts,” said Cheryl?

                “I took a ton of courses outside of my major, theater was one I loved in high school and it really got me out of my shell. Business analytics can get boring, so I needed to spice things up. Besides, theater had all the cool kids and I wanted desperately to have a reason to dress in all black and put on makeup occasionally,” said Carl. “Grab a pencil and paper and we can begin.”

                Cheryl went into the back room to grab the required objects.

                “Okay so lets start, what are their names,” asked Carl?

                “Oh I don’t know, I mean it could be anything,” said Cheryl.

                “Let’s start with the name that you wish were called when you were a kid.”

                “I wanted to be an Olivia,” answered Cheryl.

                “Done, the girls name is Olivia. What does she call her father,” asked Carl?

                “Dad, pops, I don’t know,” answered Cheryl.

                “What did you call your father,” asked Carl with a raised eyebrow.

                “Oh, I see what you are doing, you are making it personal. I called me dad Papa until I turned fifteen, then I called him his first name just to piss him off,” said Cheryl with a knowing look in her eye as she grasped the exercise.

                “So we have Olivia and Papa, what is their relationship like?”

                “Well it is a father daughter relationship.”

                “But is it, you are assuming he is the father. Don’t you think that might be too easy,” asked Carl?

                “Well who else would she call Papa, that is a pretty intimate name,” asked Cheryl?

                “Could he be her uncle or godfather because her father died when she was younger and this man has raised her for a few years,” asked Carl?

                “Wow, where do you get all of these ideas, wait, you do spend a lot of time in here writing don’t you. This isn’t relaxation for you its material for something,” Cheryl said.

                “Before you ask, no I don’t write stories about you because I know a lot about you through our talks. What you and I say to each other does not make it to the printed page. But yes, I love playing this game with close friends because it helps my writing. So, let’s start from what the reader doesn’t expect. We have a girl named Olivia and her godfather that has raised her since she was three years old and she is about nine now. What would they be talking about,” asked Carl?

                “He has something important to tell her, something earth shattering, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene, so he does it in public. That happens here all the time, people come in here to break up or propose or tell someone something very private, but they don’t want the person to freak because most people will hold back in public,” said Cheryl.

                “Hence why I brought my brother in here yesterday, he would behave here simply fine, probably impress you with his fine manners. He broke into my apartment yesterday morning and berated me when I got home about not letting him take me to the doctors appointment, so I brought him here. He meant well, but I had to get the upper hand and rely on his sense of public behavior. Now let us focus back on the godfather and Olivia, what does he need to tell her,” asked Carl?

                “That she is not her fathers daughter, that her real father is alive and in a prison in a foreign country and they don’t know where,” said Cheryl.

                “That is exciting, but did that happen to you,” asked Carl?

                “No, but my grandfather was a political prisoner when he was my age,” replied Cheryl.

                “Do you remember the first time you found out about that and how that conversation went,” asked Carl?

                “I do, just like it was yesterday,” replied Cheryl.

                “Put the words in their mouth as truthfully as you can. Because we are distancing you from the characters that will help to not put to much emotion in the piece, but it will ring true because the best lie is one that sounds as detailed as the truth, “ said Carl.

                “I think I can do that, give me a few minutes to knock this out, “asked Cheryl.

                “Today is my day off and I just started a new book so I have time,” said Carl.

                “Are you going to spend the day here? Get out of here, go on a hike or something, get some fresh air. I got it,” said Cheryl.

                “Make a deal with you, I’ll go grab some fresh air and I will come back after your shift to see how you are doing, sound doable,” asked Carl?

                “Get out of here but let me top off your coffee before you go, “said Cheryl.

                Carl and Cheryl went up to the counter and filled his cup with fresh hot coffee. Not having anything else planned for the day, Carl decided to go down by the river park and sip his refreshed coffee and read his book. The day was warm enough to go out without a coat and after quickly checking his weather app, no rain was forecast that day. He got into his car and pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the river which was about thirty minutes away. While driving, Carl noticed how traffic was noticeably light during the day. Obviously, he concluded, it was since most people worked in the day and it was after rush hour, although rush hour was not a big thing in this town. He pulled into the parking lot in the park near the river where there was a path leading to some benches that overlooked the river. There were a few other cars in the lot, but it appeared from his car that no one was near the benches.  One of the cars he recognized from earlier that day, it looked exactly like the car that the man and his child drove from the coffee shop. There was no one in the car and no one in the playground near the parking lot. He thought that maybe he wanted to see the same car because of what Cheryl had told him and got stuck in his brain. It was a common make and model, and the color was grey, so that was common as well. He brushed off the idea because he was sure he was wrong and even if he was not, so what. A man and his daughter can go to the park and have a nice outing just like he was supposed to be doing. The thing he worried about now is if hey thought he was following them. After sitting in his car for about ten minutes, he decided to go to another park nearby. It did not have a view of the river, but then it probably would not have that car in the parking lot either. He pulled out and drove another ten minutes down the road and found the other park to be empty, no cars, no people. He hadn’t wasted too much time of his day off and took his coffee and book to the picnic tables that were under a bunch of trees. He made sure he was facing his car so that he could see if someone else pulled up and began reading his book and sipping coffee. He set his alarm on the phone for twelve thirty so he would know when to get lunch. The bagel had really hit the spot and he was feeling restful. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 8 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

8 Nov 2020   2664         daily count 14471 cumulative count

                Nate checked the map app on his phone for his trip home. He saw the yellow and red starting to form as people were hitting the roads and going back home from work. He finished his tea and looked over at Carl.

                “I think I am going to head out and go home, the traffic is picking up and I’m sure I have missed a few emails while out here. I’ll drop you off and head back home,” said Nate.

                “Yeah, I am sure I missed some important emails from work myself. Its great to see you as always. I’ll just drop off our dishes at the station,” replied Carl. He collected their cups and dishes and bussed the table as they both walked toward the front of the coffee shop.

                “I think I’ll take a nap once I get home, for some reason I’m feeling tired from all the excitement. Doctors appointments are the worst on your day off,” said Carl as he got into Nates car.

                “You should take tomorrow off and do absolutely nothing. Work hard all the time, even here you do work by busing tables and tutoring the waitstaff. Take the day off and go for a walk in a park or just sleep in till noon,” said Nate as he put the car in reverse to get out of the parking lot.

                It took a few more minutes to get back to Carl’s apartment and Nate stopped next to Carl’s car so he could move it to his reserved spot. Neither brother said anything as Carl got out of the car and into his, they just nodded to each other and Nate took off for home as Carl parked his car.

                Carl entered his apartment and began to wash out the cup that Nate had been drinking tea from. The day was turning to evening slowly and he turned on his kitchen light to see better. Soon it would be time to make one of his signature dinners, Oh My God Mac and Cheese. Before Nate and his family went vegan and while he was still married, he would make this for family gatherings. The kids loved it because it was so cheesy, the adults loved it because they didn’t have to cook or clean up the dishes, Carl loved it because everyone had a smile while eating it. These days he still cooked great meals, he usually made them too big for one person to eat. Even when he was married he usually cooked for four people and kept the left overs in the fridge to be eaten the next day. Because he would be the only one eating it, he could experiment more and put the ingredients he liked in the dish. Lately he had been experimenting with goat and feta cheese with his recipe. He made the cheese sauce first while boiling up the noodles. Because he was using goat and feta to melt with the alfredo and cheddar the sauce was a few shades lighter than yellow. The smell was buttery and slightly pungent. It gave a nice kick when eating it with the bland macaroni elbows. The pasta of choice tonight was a mixture of elbows and shells because he only had about a quarter box of elbows. After Carl got the pasta started and the sauce was melting nicely, he went over to his grocery list and wrote pasta – elbows. He hadn’t learned yet how to make his own. He saw on the calendar next to the fridge that the pasta making class he was going to take was in a few weeks and he knew he couldn’t wait that long for pasta as many of his home made dishes used pasta in their recipe.

                When the pasta was all cooked he drained it in the sink and put it back into the pot. He added chopped up sun dried tomatoes, fried onions and the cheese sauce into the pot and mixed all the ingredients together. He wanted to plop down in front of the television and put on a movie and just eat the whole pot right there, but he decided to set out one table setting as he had done since his divorce and eat the meal at the table. Turning on the television and putting it on a music channel that featured jazz, he began to eat one bowl of the mac and cheese. It was not a classy meal like he used to make, but it was all he had strength for that day. Once he finished the bowl, he put I tin the sink and divided up the remaining mac and cheese into four Tupperware containers. He planned to drop one off for Cheryl and keep the rest for himself for lunches for the rest of the week. The cheese sauce would marinate into the pasta and taste even better days later.

                With all the food put away and the dishes in the sink, he went to the couch and called his boss. He would take Nate and Cheryl’s pleasing for him to take a day off to heart.

                “Hey Fred, how are you doing,” said Carl into the phone as his boss answered?

                “Doing great, how was the doctors appointment today,” replied Fred on the other end of the call?

                “Not bad, but I think I am going to take tomorrow off and be back on Thursday if that is okay. Just had a lot of running around today and tests and feeling worn out. I don’t think we have any meetings scheduled do we,” asked Carl?

                “No problem at all. You have more than enough time on the books. Go for a walk or just sleep in, we can hold the fort down for you while you are out. Just checking my calendar here, no meetings until Friday and your project is going smoothly so yeah, take the day off,” said Fred.

                “Alright see you on Thursday then and thanks,” Carl clicked off the phone and just laid on the couch after the call. The channel playing the music displayed various bits of trivia about the musicians that it was playing. Carl had already read most of them but was always surprised by one or two of blurbs of biographies of a musician he hadn’t heard of. Carl looked around for his Paris Review copy and started to read the rest of the book. As he listened to the music, he could feel himself slowly giving over to sleep. It was getting darker quicker as it usually did in the fall. When his living room was bathed in the light of the television, he turned on the light above the kitchen table to continue to read. He really wanted to finish this book before he went bed and became very engrossed in the interview he was reading as it was the last section of the book. At the time he read the last words, the clock in the kitchen displayed 11 PM. This was longer than he intended to stay up but at least he had finished this book and he could begin another one at the coffee shop tomorrow. An audible sigh of relief came from his mouth as he put the book away next to the other issues in numerical order. He wanted something different to read and pulled out a book by Robert Anton Wilson. He was ready for something that would bend his mind and keep him entertained for a few days. Once he pulled that book down from the shelf and put it in his backpack he went to the bedroom and got ready for bed. He looked at the pills his primary doctor wanted him to take and just brushed his teeth mechanically. Once done he turned out all the lights and the television, turned off his alarm clock. He wasn’t sure why he kept the clock as he usually beat the alarm, but he felt somewhere in his brain that he needed an alarm clock to make sure he would be on time for whatever the next day held for him. As he was contemplating this he fell into a deep sleep.

                                Carl got up startled the next day. The alarm clocks numbers glowed red at him, 8:30. He slept in longer than even on the weekend. He didn’t feel refreshed, rather he felt he had to hurry somewhere. He reminded himself that he took the day off and that relieved him as he almost never had been late to work. Getting out of bed he went to the shower and the steam fogged up his mirror as it usually did every morning. When he stepped in after undressing, the sting of the heat shook him to full awareness of his surroundings. Now he felt invigorated and ready to take on a day that had no deadlines and no tasks. It was mornings like this he hated, he wished he could wake up every day with this much motivation. When the shower was done he toweled off and got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Looking a the dishes, he decided they could wait until he got back from the coffee shop. He wouldn’t stay there all day, but he did want to get a good start on the new book he was reading. It promised on the back cover to be more philosophical than entertaining and his mind was ready to tackle it.

                Looking into the fridge he pulled out one of the Tupperware containers for Cheryl. He liked to help her out and make extra to hand out to the few friends he had. With his bag packed he wen to his car for the short drive to the coffee shop. It was mid-morning, almost nine thirty when he pulled up to the shop. With his bag hanging from his shoulders he stood at the counter and waited patiently for Cheryl to complete the drink she was working on.   

                “I know, red eye and everything bagel with cream cheese, just need to finish this one up and will get working on yours Carl. You look good today, taking the da off like your brother and I recommended,” Cheryl asked?

                “I was hoping for some green tea and a vegan wrap actually,” joked Carl.

                “You can’t be serious Carl, I’ve known you for how many years and all of the sudden you are going green on me, “asked Cheryl?

                “Nope, never! Red eye and everything bagel with cream cheese. You got time for the dialogue assignment today,” asked Carl?

                “Yeah, I brought my notepad and digital recorder, we can do it in about an hour, got some stuff to clean up in the back room,” replied Cheryl.

                Carl paid for his breakfast and found his couch was occupied by a man and a girl so he went over to the couches by the window. These were not his favorite, but he got comfortable and opened his new book. Looking at the man and the girl, Carl noticed she was school aged, probably eight or ten. He wondered why she was not in school as it was Wednesday. The man was non-descript, probably mid-thirties with a button-down shirt. He kept looking around as if he were waiting for someone, probably a drop off with an ex-wife or something like that. The girl had a milk and cookie in front of her, untouched, and was reading book. Carl could not make out the title but was sure it was something for young readers. The man caught Carl’s eye by waving gat him.

                “Hey where is the bathroom here,” asked the man?

                “The girl’s bathroom is right next to the counter up front,” Carl assumed the man meant to ask for the girl.

                “No, no the men’s bathroom,” replied the man.

                “Oh, that is on the other side toward the patio,” Carl pointed.

                “Thanks, can you watch my girl while I handle my business,” asked the father?

                “Yeah sure, she’s fine here, I am a regular, name’s Carl,” he replied. The man walked to the bathroom and still looked around as if he were looking for someone. As Carl waited for the man to come back he moved to the table next to the girl. He smiled and waved at her. She looked up with vacant eyes at Carl.

                “Your dad needed to use the restroom, he will be back quickly. How are you doing today,” Carl asked?

                The girl looked back down at her book and took a drink of milk. Cheryl motioned at Carl from behind the counter. He put down his book and walked over to Cheryl.

                “That guy has been here with his daughter every day this week. He goes to the bathroom and stays there for about twenty minutes or so while she just sits there quietly and reads her book and drinks her milk. I don’t have a good feeling about it, can you just go into the bathroom and see what he is doing. Sometimes we get some people in here that use the bathroom to shoot up, he doesn’t look the type, but can you just take a peek for me,” asked Cheryl?

                “No worries, oh by the way, I brought you some Oh My God mac and cheese, do you have a fridge where you can store it until lunch or dinner,” asked Carl?

                “Yeah, you are too kind, but can you get to the bathroom quick,” said Cheryl.

                Carl went into the mens bathroom. He was sure Cheryl would keep her eyes trained on the little girl while he checked on the father. Carl heard the usual sounds of someone sitting in a stall and sing it for it’s intended purposes. He left the bathroom and grabbed the container for Cheryl. He gave her a thumbs up as he dropped off the container at the counter.

                “All good, the guy is taking a dump, kinda like me after too many red eyes,” joked Carl.

                “I appreciate you checking. It’s just I have seen them for three days in a row now, and the guy takes longer in the bathroom each day, that girl should be in school,” said Cheryl.

                “Maybe he is a single dad or something and he is just trying to juggle to many things at the same time,” replied Carl.

                “You are probably right, we just don’t get kids in here this early in the day or if we do their parents just come in really quick and grab and go, they have been sitting there for like an hour,” Cheryl said with worry in her voice.

                “If they come in tomorrow I am sure you can pull him aside and ask him what the deal is, do you want me to stop by before work tomorrow and check in just to make sure,” aske Carl?

                “I’d feel better if you did,” said Cheryl.

                “Too easy, I gotta get back to my book and my new silent reading partner,” said Carl.

                He went back to his table next to the girls table and opened his book and started to drink his red eye. The father came back after about forty minutes and was still looking around. He looked frustrated and spoke to the girl in a low whisper.

                “Okay, it’s time to go to the doctor. Lets get our stuff together and go,” said the father. The girl silently closed her book and put it in her backpack and finished her last bite of cookie and drank the last of her milk.      

                “Thanks for looking after her, ahh I didn’t catch your name,” said the father.

                “Carl, I am a regular here, anytime. She was no trouble at all, just read her book and was very quiet, almost forgot she was there. You two take care,” Carl said as he waved to the girl. The father and girl left as Carl went back to reading his book. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 7 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

7 Nov 2020 1728 daily count 11807 cumulative count

“Well it’s a long drive back, lets grab lunch and continue this conversation,” said Nate.

                “Coffee shop it is, and before you ask, they have vegan and vegetarian options for you. Are you planning on staying in town tonight or heading back after some grub,” Carl asked?

                “Are you inviting me to stay and watch over you tonight,” asked Nate?

                “Well, the luxurious accommodations here are not up to your standard I am sure, but I do have the two spare bedrooms, although one of them is set up for my office. You can crash here if you want,” said Carl.

                “Let’s grab lunch and see how I am feeling. So where is this coffee shop you are taking me to,” asked Nate?

                “Just a few minutes down the road, I did promise to help Cheryl with her dialogue for a class project she is doing today, do you want to lend a hand with that? Lord knows we can talk for hours about nothing important,” Carl asked?

                “So, who is this Cheryl, is something going on that I should be aware of in case she tries to get in on your estate,” asked Nate?

                “Not everyone is out for the little bit of money I have. She is a barista at the coffee shop and is taking classes in theater at the college. She is a good kid wants to be a lighting designer and I am just giving her a hand with the stuff that I know,” replied Carl.

                They both got into Nate’s car and drove off to the coffeeshop. It was a quiet and quick drive, however, they had to park a few blocks away as the lunch crowd had swarmed as Carl feared it would.

                “Wow this little place is hoping, must have some great food huh,” said Nate.

                “It’s the lunch crowd, they should clear out in about 20 minutes or so, do you want to go someplace else,” asked Carl?

                “No, this will be fine, you said they have vegan food, right? So, let’s eat healthy,” said Nate.

                The line to get in spilled out onto the sidewalk. Nate feared there might now be enough food when they ordered as had happened to him in the past with popular eateries. Neither brother talked while in line, they smiled at the other patrons, but didn’t engage in any conversation. Once they finally got to the counter to order Nate had memorized the menu and Carl was a regular, so his mind as made up before they even entered.

                “This will be for here, I’ll take the Rueben with sweet potato fries and a red eye and this guy is with me and he is paying,” said Carl to Cheryl’s coworker Stephanie.

                “I’ll grab the vegan wrap sandwich and sweet potato fries as well, and some green tea please,” ordered Nate.

                “Oh hey Carl, Cheryl is swamped, but we are winding down on the lunch rush, she wanted me to let her know when you came back, you look great, is this your father with you,” said Stephanie with a giggle?

                “This old man is my older brother Nate; he is the vegan in the family. He keeps the world in balance with all the chaos and destruction I bring into it. No worries on it being busy, we will be outside in the back at the tables. Just holler at me and I will grab the tray,” said Carl.

                “Did you tell her to say that” asked Nate?

                “Standing order here, any male that comes in with me is my dad, any female is my younger sister. E perks of being a good customer and big tipper, by the way, minimum tip I give is thirty percent. Cough it up big guy,” said Carl.

                Nate paid the bill with a forty percent tip. Carl always talked about the coffee shop as if he were a financial backer or a silent partner. It was everything that Carl described, comfortable, personable staff, lots of art and very lively. After being there for five minutes, Nate understood why Carl enjoyed the place, it felt like Carl was inviting him to his private island. They grabbed a small table on the back open-air patio. It felt very private and exclusive being so close to downtown. Nate made note of the location for future client meetings. It felt good to see his little brother be treated like royalty, and he knew it would never go to his head.

                “So how is the legal business, keeping criminals like me on the street,” asked Carl?

                “Business is always good, putting in seventy-hour weeks is tough, but I’ll be able to cut back to fifty-hour weeks soon. We took on a new partner with the firm and she will be working out custody cases. She is a real firebrand, and you know those custody cases take forever and go back and forth all the time depending on the judge and the clients. Well this gal, she was doing adoption cases and jumped over to custody cases and really took off, been watching her career zoom and I told my firm, snatch her up because I am not spending all my time with custody cases. Those are emotionally draining; she has caught on quick to our firm and I am glad to hand all the cases off to her. I got the firm to offer her an extra share, “remarked Nate.

                “So, she is taking your job, how are you going to live,” joked Carl.

                “Yeah, funny. So, she is tackling the stuff that is holding me back from contract law, the boring stuff that no one likes but makes the bread and butter for the firm,” replied Nate.

                “Carl, get your grub its ready, “called Stephanie from the door. “And your dad is a way better tipper that you ever were.”

                Everyone on the patio laughed when they heard Stephanie bellow that remark. Carl got up quickly to get the food and to escape the conversation he started. He almost wished he talked about his tumor instead of asking Nate about his legal business. Carl understood all the legal terms and positions, he just was hoping Nate did not talk about work outside of work. Carl brought the food back and set it out for them as deftly as a waiter in a three Michelin Star restaurant. Years of waiting tables in college certainly helped his form. The two got down to the business of eating. Carl made sure none of the food touched each other on his plate while Nate opened the vegan wrap and put the sweet potato fries inside. While eating neither on spoke. Carl looked around the patio and noticed they had changed the wall art since he had been in the patio six months ago. The paintings were very floral and leafy as the overall theme, but the sculpture on each wall was very metallic and futuristic. He thought probably someone is doing an opposite attract motif, its didn’t sit well with him as it felt forced.

                “Earth to Carl, are you spacing out on me,” asked Nate?

                “Nope, just enjoying the music and looking at the art. Does it seem forced to you, the contrast between nature and the futuristic sculptures, it kinda bugs me,” said Carl.

                “Well you are the art guy, or at least the appreciator of art. I would not want it in my office or the board room. I wouldn’t want it in my house either, but we don’t have a lot of art hanging up in either place, “replied Nate.

                After about twenty minutes Cheryl came out and sat at the table Carl and Nate occupied. She looked ragged, but her youth seemed to push her forward.

                “So, how’s your food guys,” she asked?

                “The best Reuban I’ve had since I moved here from Chicago,” said Carl while finishing up his red eye.

                “This wrap is delicious. Totally vegan, “asked Nate?

                “I make the drinks, but I believe we make it certifiably vegan. Too bad this guy doesn’t eat clean food huh. It’s nice to see Carl’s father, and you move around so great for someone with a permanent corn cob up his,” joked Cheryl.

                “Never mind Cheryl, that’s not him. This is my brother Nate; he runs a firm outside of town. Highly successful and very vegan,” Carl said cutting off Cheryl.

                “Carl, I’m twenty-four not four. I kinda figured he wasn’t your dad, not old enough and not crabby enough,” replied Cheryl. “So, Nate, what brings you by,” asked Cheryl?

                “Well this guy went off and did a doctors appointment without me. He conveniently forgot that I was requested to come with him, and I had to break into his house. Nice brother,” replied Nate.

                “Yeah he doesn’t let anyone take care of him. He had an episode down here earlier today. Looks like you are feeling better right Carl,” said Cheryl?

                “Thank you both for your caring but I brought Nate here to help us out with your dialogue assignment. If there is anyone I know who can talk for hours on end and say nothing, its my brother. Are we in too early,” asked Carl?

                “Carl, you look as tired as I feel and you are almost twice my age. The assignment isn’t due until next week, we can do it later, besides I am just about done with my break. Enjoy your time with your brother, but get a nap in today okay,” said Cheryl.

                “Yes dear, thanks for the great drinks,” said Carl.

                “Cheryl, Carl said you were going to school for theater, let me know when you switch majors for a good paying job and I’ll open up a spot in my firm for you,” joked Nate.

                “I’ll let you know when I need to sell my soul to a firm to pay off my student loans. You’ll be the first one I call, promise. You are just as bad as Carl. Why don’t you bring your brother here,” asked Cheryl?

                “He lives out of town and is only bearable in small doses. I’ll drop by tomorrow and we can set up a time to work on that dialogue,” said Carl.

                “Sounds good, you two take care, make sure he gets some rest Nate, it was nice to meet you,” replied Cheryl. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 6 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

6 Nov 2020 1545 daily total  10079 cumulative total

                He got to his door and scowled at the car taking his spot. He looked at it again, he knew he recognized the car, just not the owner. As he entered his apartment, the cologne of his brother greeted him before his brother said a word.

                “I knew I should have changed the locks,” said Carl to the man sitting on his couch and watching TV with hot tea in front of him.

                 “Gotta check up on you to make sure you are still alive. Where have you been,” asked Carl’s older brother Nate?

                “Well since you broke into my house and defiled it by making a drink of moldy muddy leaves, you should know,” replied Carl.

                “I know where you weren’t, and that’s here. I was supposed to take you to your doctor appointment today,” said Nate.

                “I am forty-two, I have lived on my own before you did, and you are my older brother by four years. I have been handling all my doctors appointments for decades. I think I can handle this one,” replied Carl.

                “I thought we agreed I would take you so I would know what is going on with you in case I need to step in and take over,” replied Nate.

                “No you said you wanted to step in and take over when you felt the time called for it, I don’t remember telling you to come with me to any appointment. Don’t you have a wife that listens in on our calls and orders you around,” replied Carl?

                “She’s worried because you have no one here to look after you, plus I am your big brother and I’m kinda responsible for you. Remember the brain surgery a few years ack,” said Nate?

                Carl did remember and regretted the decision to have his older brother look after him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the help after the divorce and having the surgery. Carl resented the fact that Nate and his wife thought they should swoop in and take over. It was that attitude that Carl’s marriage and now was threatening his relationship with the last family member that he talked to on a semiregular basis.

                “Okay well you can call your wife and report in, your little brother slipped out before you could catch up with him and you made green tea in my house. You probably brough in vegan cookies and food to help “heal me” and I ate some and was instantly healed, promised to name the next cat I adopted after you and wished you well on your way back home. Is that what she wants to hear,” asked Carl?

                “She cares about you and I don’t want to see you go down that lonely path that you love sipping toward oblivion to. You are still working a full time job, keeping a full time schedule of events that don’t include anyone else and we don’t want to come over here one day and find that you died three weeks before. The smell from the rotted meat in your fridge would be wretched and then of course your corpse would probably be sitting on the easy chair with a cold cup of coffee and a half eaten steak diner with old reruns of M*A*S*H* blaring on the television,” teased Carl. “We really care about you and want you to take care of yourself. You are my only brother and I don’t want to lose you.”

                “Nate, I haven’t changed the will, the ex-wife gets her cut, you guys get your cut and the coffee shop gets their cut. All my bills except for the medical ones that keep popping up with all these visits are the only thing left. I appreciate all the legal advice for all these years that you have given to me, but everything is in order, I am not afraid of death and I won’t be ruled by trying to grasp onto a life I don’t want. Now if you forgive me I am a bit tired and would like to lie down before I go back to the shop this afternoon,” said Carl.

                “Wait, you are going back to the coffee shop but you won’t tell me what happened at the doctors office,” asked Nate?

                “It was the usual thing, the doctor doesn’t listen, the nursed don’t listen. I insult them, I flirt with them, no one listens, so I don’t listen to them. I play their little game because it still amuses me to do such right now, maybe a part of me is hoping to grasp onto something, but for the most part, the doc wants to start chemo treatment on me I the new year, I have an MRI coming up in a few weeks and then we have the same talk we have had for two years now. I have a tumor, it is growing slowly, it affects me negatively, they don’t have a guaranteed way to treat it that doesn’t leave me walking around with a colostomy bag and no hair, wondering if the next cold I catch will be my last. But you and I have had this talk before, you and I and your wife have had this talk before. When are we going to talk about something else,” asked Carl?

                “So how about you take the rest of the week off, come out to our place and relax. Lord knows you could use the rest. The kids would love to see you and we will find something else to talk about. No tumors, no doctors, I’ll get you back Sunday night so you can go to work on Monday. You need the rest to keep up your strength anyways,” asked Nate.

                “I’ll make a deal with you, you can take me to the MRI, it’s on the Friday after next. I usually feel pretty lousy after an MRI and I will take a four-day weekend? Is that something we can do,” asked Carl?

                Nate looked at his phone’s calendar and confirmed the dates.

                “Okay, we can grill up some vegetables and get you some healthy food as well, you will feel like a million bucks, “replied Nate.

                “Then it is a date, the MRI is in the morning, at 9 AM so I need to be there about an hour earlier. Are you going to feel well enough to drive all the way out here and take me to your place? I am not really going to be good company, maybe I can just stay I the guest cabin and hang out at the fire pit the whole weekend, get some other work done or something,” Carl said.

                “I’ll make sure the kids don’t bug you too much, but they love having over their favorite Uncle anytime, just don’t give them ice cream this time, they are lactose intolerant,” remarked Nate.

                “They aren’t lactose intolerant; you all just don’t drink milk because it comes from a cow. I’ll take them to the frozen vegan yogurt place down the road from you guys,” replied Carl.

                “Well I will be driving you back to the house, so you won’t be able to take them anyplace.” Said Nate.

                “I’ll take your car, or one of them could drive me,” said Carl.

                “Dude, my kids aren’t sixteen yet, not even close, they are fourteen and twelve,” Nate replied.

                “Don’t make me remind you of the Suzuki Samurai incident where Mark taught us both to drive stick shift,” said Carl.

                Mark was their half brother from another father. He was about ten years older than Nate and they all referred to each other as brothers. For them, it didn’t matter who was fully related to whom, they all had each other.

                “Well, that car out there is not a Samurai, and didn’t we almost flip that SUV a couple of times. No way I am letting you do that with my Buick, you aren’t allowed to drive or to teach my kids how to drive that weekend, maybe another weekend when you bring your car,” replied Nate.

                 “I’ll look for a bright canary yellow AMC Concord to teach your kids how to drive. I think I saw one online nearby, very cherry looking, “joked Carl.

                “Better yet lets get them that Ford van you had back in the day with shag carpeting and no seats other than the driver seat. If I remember right it had a moon shaped tinted window and a leaky  sun roof. That was a stick shift care right,” asked Nate?

                “Yep, three on the tree and no bushings in the steering column. That thing turned like a cruise ship. Had to crank the wheel two full rotations to get it to turned and that was before they had power steering. Only the best for my nieces,” said Carl.

                “My wife would have your balls if you did something like that,” Nate joked.

                “To late, my ex already got those in the divorce. Seriously she wanted to get the frozen sperm in the divorce in case she wanted to get preggers. Told her there was no swimmers but she was sure that sometime in the near future, science would find a way to make that sterile glob into baby juice,” laughed Carl. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 5 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

5 Nov 2020 1673 daily count 8534 cumulative count

                “Hmmm, well my ex-wife and I had a great time, and I had a great time when I went by myself the year before. Where did you end up staying,” Carl replied?

                “Oh, some flea bag hotel in Paris somewhere. They were very snotty towards us, we had to wait forever for our meals the first day or two and then I let the manager have it. After that our food came out quick, but it was always cold,” said the older man.

                “Hmm, well the custom there is that dinner lasts a long time so you can enjoy your food and the company you are with. We stayed in Montparnese, just a few blocks from the graveyard and the Metro and Montparnesse Tower. I remember when I landed both times it was market day and the next day it was art day on the street just down from our hotel. I went on a tour group of people your age or older and we all had a grand time. Out tour guide was an expat and knew all the places I wanted to visit and gave me a bunch more that I had not heard of. Just a magical time indeed. I’ve considered retiring there when the time comes,” said Carl.

                “Well I am sure you experienced the rude people there, they were all over the place. Do not see how anyone could be an expat and love living over there. They hate us you know, “the old man said.

                “Nope, can’t say I experienced that, the people I met were very friendly and were forgiving of my attempts at French. In fact, we had a bunch try their English on us and it was fun to help them out and they had a great time helping us out. Lots of laughter is what I remember. I just treated it like I was going over to someone’s house and played by their rules. It really worked out for us and we took thousands of pictures and made some excellent memories. Tell me you at least went to the I Love You wall with your wife,” asked Carl?

                “The I Love You wall, what the heck is that” asked the old man?

                “Oh wow, okay, here is the info on the tour company we used. I think you got ripped off, you need to give It another shot. Here is a picture of my ex-wife and I at the I Love You Wall,” Carl opened up the photo app on his phone and showed the older man. “So, its this wall in Mon Marte I believe the neighborhood was called, anyhow, it’s a wall with I Love You written on it in all of these languages from tourists that have visited. Very romantic and magical place, the whole city is like that really you should give these guys a call and book a trip as soon as you can,” Carl gushed.

                “Yeah, its probably out of my price range though and I don’t want to give them frogs anymore of my money,” the old man said.

                “Divorce is more expensive,” Carl muttered.

                “What’s that,” the old man asked?

                “Oh, well I was just saying divorce is more expensive, I’ve been divorced for a few years now. That was expensive, Paris, well that is a bargain for the memories I have,” Carl said wistfully.

                “Carl, we are ready for you,” said the phlebotomist over the din of the patients.

                “Coming, “replied Carl. “Talk with these folks, give it another shot. We only live once and the memories will last the rest of your life. Trust me you never know how short life can be.”

                Carl put his phone and book away and carefully made it through the crowd. He headed to the back room and was led to a chair. Instinctively he rolled up both sleeves and set his bag on the floo next to him.

                “Okay name and birthday please,” asked the nurse?

                “Carl Bayer, 6, 10, 78. I am a Gemini and like long walks on the beach,” joked Carl.

                “I didn’t know Gemini’s liked long walks on the beach. I’m a Leo so I like being in control. Which arm will we be using today,” asked the nurse?

                “You are the one with the sharp pointy objects, I’ll let you decide. Besides, you are a Leo so you will probably tell me which one anyway. No seriously though, the left arm is usually the best one,” answered Carl.

                “Sounds good to me. Looks like you have had a bunch of sticks so I’ll use that one. How are you feeling today,” asked the nurse?

                “Decided to take the day off and come see you,” joked Carl.

                “Aren’t you the charmer, I’ll make sure to use the no pain needle on you. Looks like we will be taking five vials. Make sure you take it easy after this today, get some water and if you feel woozy let your doctor know okay? All right here we go, just a quick pinch,” said the nurse as she stuck Carl and the blood started to fill the first vial.

                “I’m not really afraid of the needles, I have a bunch of tattoos. I just don’t like looking,” said Carl.

                “I don’t like looking either, did I hit your arm or mine,” joked the nurse?

                Carl went into his calm place as the vials slowly filled with his blood. If he had known, he was going to do bloodwork today he would have drunk much more water versus the coffee that he had earlier that day. A few years ago, when this testing and diagnosis happened, he talked with another nurse who was drawing his blood and she told him how to make it less painful. She also told him to find his calm place, if he was calm, the phlebotomist would be much calmer and get the job done quicker.

                “Okay, I left some in there for you, how are you holding up Carl,” asked the nurse?

                “Fell about three pounds lighter, thanks for draining my oil,” replied Carl.

                “Okay, make sure you keep his bandage on, get some water, in fact, grab some on your way out. Your blood was flowing a bit slow, so I want to make sure you are hydrated,” said the nurse.

                “I’ll order a bottle of water at the coffee shop instead of a red eye, I promise,” said Carl.

                As Carl left, he noticed the older man who talked with him. He caught the eye of the man and said “Viva La France, see you there.”

                Carl smiled as he heard the old man sputter a response back at him. He didn’t hear the full response, nor did he care. He made it to his car and pulled out his phone and set up the podcast he was listening to on the way over. It was about improvement one that didn’t try to sell the listeners anything. Definitely one of his favorites especially on Fridays there they read and commented on listener letters. The hosts didn’t belittle the people asking for advice; however, he could hear the smirks in their voices sometimes and he would smirk right along with them. With the car warmed up he headed back to the coffee shop. As he drove, he felt a little woozy, must have been from the blood draw. The traffic was light as it wasn’t quite eleven thirty. The lunch rush wasn’t due to hit for another half hour and the coffee shop would be slammed for about an hour after that then cleared out. He debated going back and having Cheryl see him with the bandage on, she had always tried to mother him he felt. It was good to have someone care, but the last person who cared was now his ex-wife.

Before he knew it, he mindlessly had driven to the coffee shop because he missed the turn to go back home. He could just go in for a little bit and come back or he could brave the soon coming crowd and then help Cheryl with her dialogue for her class. The decision seemed to take longer than it should have. As he stayed in his car debating, he saw almost no one in the coffee shop at that time, just a few college kids with their laptops or noses in a book and a man with a child. Finally, he decided to go home, grab a bite to eat, probably take a nap and then come back at 2 PM when there were less people. By that time, he reasoned that he could remove the bandage and feel a bit better. It was only a few minute drive and traffic was still fairly light. He pulled away from the shop and headed home.

                Once he got back to his apartment complex, he noticed someone had parked in his spot. The car looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. Instead of calling the front office and complaining he pulled into the visitors spots. It was empty there, but it did require him to walk farther than if he had his spot in from of his entrance. It was a minor annoyance, and he would be leaving in a few hours anyway. His ex-wife would have been on the phone and giving the make and license plate number to the secretary. This was not the quality that bothered him, rather, she would justify it by using his diagnosis as an excuse to get preferred treatment. She would claim that it could tire him out or if he tripped on the curb because of an episode that he might have at just that moment, then someone would be sued, and he would be dead. She often exaggerated the effects of his tumor and treated him like he would be dying in just a few minutes. He didn’t want the reminders that he might have an episode at any moment, although he knew that was possible. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

[podcast_subscribe id="207"]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 4 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

4 Nov 2020 day count 1701 cumulative count 6862

                “Well if you see an uptick in these episodes that tells me we need to move forward. Let us look at the latest MRI to see if this latest episode did any damage or shows an increase in size of the tumor greater than what we have been seeing. If you or those around you notice any slurring of speech or awkwardness in speech that could be a sign. Once we get the bloodwork back, we can see if this tumor is spreading into your bloodstream or impacting it in your brain. Again, I cannot stress enough that being more aggressive now buys you more time in the future,” replied the doctor.

                “Yes, but what about quality of life towards the end of this ride. My quality is good right now except for all these tests and appointments. You even said it is steadily growing at a slow pace. I am a frustrated little hen. Okay we just stay on standby until things get worse, “replied Carl.

                “I’ll have my nurse give you a call when the results come in and we can talk more after that. I just want you to be aware of the options and think more long term, “said the doctor.

                “I am thinking long term trust me, the tumor is in my brain not yours. So as usual I must talk with the nurse and get the MRI and bloodwork scheduled through her. Do I need to come in or can we do a phone consultation when we get the results, “asked Carl?

                “My nurse can set up a phone consultation with you, so you don’t have to take another day off f work. The MRI and bloodwork should come back within a few days of the tests. Just keep monitoring your symptoms and let us know what is happening. You have been very good about doing that and we appreciate it, think about the chemo though, I can have my nurse give you information on it and if you want we can schedule a time to go through the process in detail with the staff that performs those procedures,” replied the doctor. “Before I forget, are you involved with any support group, if not I can get my nurse to look that up for you and give you information?”

                “Yeah, I am not the support group type of guy. My knitting skills are fine the way they are,” joked Carl.

                “You do more than knitting in those groups. It might help, or maybe you could do some online groups. I just want to make sure you are not going through this alone. It is not a sign of weakness, think of it as a tune up and oil change with other people who are experiencing something similar to your experience. Wo knows, you might meet your next ex-wife in one of those groups,” said the doctor.

                “I’ll do the online stuff so that if I need to make a face or snort at what someone says I can do it in the comfort of my own home in my house coat. I am not sure I am ready to date someone who is as sick as I am though, I like the attention everyone gives to me,” replied Carl.

                “Alright that sounds reasonable, I can live with it if you can live with it,” replied the doctor.

                With that conversation ended, the doctor stood up and rolled his laptop desk out into the hall and pointed Carl to the nurses station. Carl made it to the desk as the nurse was on another call and motioned for him to wait. He leaned on the counter and waited patiently. While she was on the call he pulled out his phone and opened his calenda app to put down the next appointments he was sure to get. The intake nurse approached him from behind.

                “So all done with appointments for today,” she asked?

                “Yeah, gotta schedule another MRI and some bloodwork. He doc wants to get more aggressive with the tumor and do some chemo on me but I am not sold on the idea yet,” he replied.

                “Well good luck to you, hope the tests come back and give you some good news,” she replied.

                “Looks like I will be back here in a few weeks to talk it all over again, if it wasn’t for you I would not bother coming in here,” Carl flirted with the nurse.

                “Ten years younger and would be going out to that coffee shop you are always talking about,” she flirted back.

                The receptionist finished her call and the intake nurse went out into the waiting room to get the next patient.

                “Okay Carl, looks like the doctor wants another MRI and some more blood work, you can go downstairs to get the blood draw today if you want and the results will be back in about three days, but the MRI might take a little longer. Do you prefer mornings or afternoons,” she asked?

                “No preference on time, but I would like to get the MRI done on a Friday as they make me feel groggy all day,” he replied.

                “Okay looks like they have an opening in two weeks at 7 AM, is that to early for you,” she asked?

                “Let’s go ahead and knock it out then, probably need a follow up with the doc after those MRI results come in, can we follow up with him on a Friday as well,” carl replied?

                “Sure can, I can get you in at 9:30 AM again if that is okay in three weeks,” she asked?

                “Done and done, and no I don’t need a card to remind me I already put it in my phone thanks,” he replied.

                “Okay, so go ahead downstairs and get your bloodwork done and the MRI appointment is already set up. They will call you the day before, but you probably already knew that since you have done it so many times. No need to fast for that one. Your follow up with the doctor is all set. Now If you want to wait I can get you the info on the support groups if you like,” she asked?

                “Nah I have my phone to look all that stuff up, but thanks for offering, am I good to get out of here,” Carl asked?

                “Yep we are all done here, have a good one today,” she said.

                “Thank you very much, see you in a few weeks,” Carl answered. He left the office and took the elevator to the main floor. The elevator still had a urine smell in it and was just as slow as usual. Once the doors opened, he headed straight to the blood draw office tucked away from the main entrance. It seemed darker there than the waiting or exam rooms, but that was probably due to the location of the office and lack of windows. He opened the door to the office and faced another receptionist on a phone. He quietly filled out his name on the sign in sheet and took a seat in the back. This waiting room was packed and had just two seats open. He could smell the other patients, some w older than him, some younger, it was a good mix. The older ones smelled worse probably due to their conditions. This time he didn’t bother to look at the magazine rack, he just put his nose right into the book he had been carrying along and reading today. He finished all the poetry in the book and was just about to start the interview with his favorite author when the receptionist called his name.

                “Carl, can you come to the front please,” she asked over the din of the other patients murmured conversations?

                “Yes ma’am, coming,” he replied. Carl dogeared the page he was on and worked his way to the window.

                “I see your doctor has ordered some blood work today right, are you fasting,” she asked?

                “Uhm nope he didn’t tell me to fast, I just came from his office,” he replied.

                “Oh I see what we are doing, no worries, force of habit. Okay I have you on the list, should be another thirty minutes or so,” she replied.

                “I’ll be here waiting, do you need a urine sample as well this time,” he asked?

                “He didn’t put it in the order, did he tell you he needed one,” she asked?

                “Nope, force of habit on my part,” he said jokingly.

                “Then you should be fine, like I said about thirty minutes or so,” she replied dryly.

                Carl went back to his seat and began reading the interview in earnest. He would have rather read it at the coffee shop and not have been disturbed halfway through by someone wanting to jab a needle in him, but he only brought the one book. He needed to keep up his reading schedule if he was going to hit his goal for the year. He started to read his dogeared copy of The Paris Review when the patient sitting next to him started looking over at what he was reading.

                “Going to Paris,” asked the older man?

                “Oh no, I have already been, this is a literary journal with articles, interviews and poetry from around the world. Some rather good stuff, some other stuff that goes over my head,” replied Carl.

                “So, you read French I take it, “the older man asked?

                “Oh no it is all in English, I think it started in Paris in the 40’s or 50’s and was initially based in Paris and New York. I am reading an interview with my favorite writer,” Carl answered.

                “Yeah the wife and I went to Paris. Absolutely hated it. Those frogs were snobs when they should have been grateful that we liberated them from the Germans,” the older man grumbled.

                “Oh, you are a World War Two vet, you don’t look a day over sixty, what’s your secret,” Carl asked annoyed and ready to school what he considered to be an ignorant person?

                “Nope, I am a boomer, and yeah I am sixty-three,” replied the old man disgruntled. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 3 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

3 Nov 2020 Day count 1644 Cumulative Count 5151

                Carl sat in the sterile exam room. There were a few magazines on the wall magazine rack that he internally laughed at. Home and Garden, Urology Today and a few home improvement periodicals. Nothing really to spark his interest to pick any o the rags, so he went back to his dog-eared copy of The Paris Review. He decided to skip ahead and read the rest of the poetry, a few of the pieces spoke to him, not in a profound way, but enough to notice the subject matter. The time seemed to drag, and he looked at the posters on the wall of the various body parts and internal organs. He wondered how someone got into that type of work, medial diagraming seemed to be such a waste of talent, or just a way for someone to make an easy buck. How much competition was there in making these diagrams and how did they et the source material to inspire someone to draw these things up. They all seemed to have a wetness to them. In every doctor’s office he saw them and really wondered if other people looked at them and said to themselves, I wish my insides looked like that. He gazed briefly on the image of the brain. It was sectioned off so nicely and looked pink and juicy, extremely healthy. None of them showed the reduced electrical output from a deformity or what a tumor really looked like. The brain depicted probably came from someone who was disgustingly positive. That brain was not a picture of his own, not that he was a depressed, negative person, its just that with his current condition he could not imagine his brain looking so pristine. The pictures of his brain looked grainy, when the docs initially pointed out the tumor it was like looking at an old tv with a tone of static, or when he was a kid trying to look at porn from the cable channels. It did not register with him, and it was not because of his tumor that it did not register, his ex-wife could not make heads or tails of what they were looking at. Of course, neither of them were medical experts and neither devoted years of their lives looking at these obscure pictures. It was like trying to find Where’s Waldo, except you did not have a color picture to look at or you were colorblind.

                The knock at the door to the exam room was firm, a little too firm. It meant that the doctor was ready to see him now. It broke him out of his thoughts on medical artistic representations.

                “Come on it doc,” said Carl weakly. He heard his own voice, and it did not possess the usual robust energy behind it. Maybe it was because he was not on equal ground. The doctor had more information about him that he had on himself and that made him feel lesser of a person, maybe he was just weary from the number of doctor appointments like this he had experienced over the years.

                “Good morning Carl, I’m sorry to be a little late, had to finish up with another patient. How are you feeling today,” came the almost mechanical response from his brain doctor? Carl had told two other people how he was and they each told him they would tell the next person. This was one of the multitude of things he hated about the medical field.

                “Well like I told your receptionist and intake nurse, I am doing swimmingly, never felt better in my life,” was Carl’s curt reply. It was a stupid question in Carl’s mind because no matter how often he said things, it did not make him feel better.

                “Oh, because I was just looking over the notes from my nurse and it looks like you had another episode this morning. Are you feeling okay, any dizziness or nausea happening right now,” the doctor replied. After years in practice he was used to some of his patients in Carl’s position being snarky with him.

                “Nope, just had an episode that I put down on the tracker here,” said Carl. He began to pull out his notebook tracker and just left it unopened on his lap.

                “Well tell me what happened in your own words, it looks like in my notes its been pretty consistent over these past few months right,” replied the doc?

                “I had a rough night last night, couldn’t get to sleep to easily, got up this morning  went to the coffee shop, sat down there to read before coming here and when I started to put cream cheese on my bagel I felt woozy from my frontal lobe and it worked its way to the center. I was fine and I started reading and must have passed out or zone out with my eyes open. The barista shook me a little bit and I came to right away. I also had my phone alarm set for 9 AM to make sure I was here, On Time,” Carl emphasized the words On Time so that the doctor would get the hint he was not a happy camper waiting to be seen.

                “Okay well that is a common symptom related to your tumor. Its not in that area of your brain, but it can affect you in that manner. Was there any loss of smell or hearing,” asked the doctor putting notes in his portable laptop?

                “Not that I noticed, I mean I could smell the coffee just fine, no loss of taste after the episode. I just blurred out for a few minutes. Its more of an annoyance because its not increasing as far as I can tell,” replied Carl.

                “Well I definitely want to get another MRI done to rule out the tumor putting pressure on other pars of your brain. Your last one was about three weeks ago. I read the results and it showed small steady growth, but nothing out of the ordinary for your condition. I think we should consider getting more aggressive with this tumor though, have you given any thought about my recommendation on the chemo treatment,” ask the doctor?

                “Well I thought about it, I like my hair where it is, frankly, makes me more attractive for the other divorcees out there,” replied Carl.

                “You are right, there are some side effects with chemo, but I think we are getting to the point where the watch and wait method may not be doing you any good. The short-term effects of radiation therapy may outweigh the long-term effects of stopping the growth and possibly reversing it. All we are doing right now it is putting a finger in a dam that could burst anytime,” said the doctor.

                “When would we start the treatments and what are the short-term effects. I mean quite frankly I have to work to pay off your yacht so if I can’t work then these little talks we are having will have to stop,” said Carl.

                “I would still want to get a recent MRI in and do some more blood work, but we could get you started on treatment by the new year. We would run the first barrage for two months, one week on two weeks off and reassess where we are at. We may need to go in for a stronger treatment session on the second barrage if needed. During your week of treatment, you would be weak so I would say if you must work, then work from home, we can do a write up for your job. Once the first treatment is done and if a second one is needed, I would recommend we wait three to six months before beginning treatment again. If a second treatment is needed, we can reassess again at that time to see if this bought you anymore time. I have seen in the past where one treatment made a world of difference and the tumor regressed, not remission mind you but regressed and the patient added a few years to their life expectancy,” said the doctor.

                “Were they a guy or girl,” asked Carl.

                “What,” replied the doctor?

                “Was the patient a guy or a girl,” asked Carl again.

                “To protect their privacy, you know I cannot answer that, besides, it doesn’t make a difference, they had more time with their family,” replied the doctor slightly annoyed.

                “Well there is a difference. I am not married, and I don’t have family that is able to take care of me during these weak periods while I am getting treatments. I’d have to hire a nurse to take care of me during those times, and what hot nurse is going to take care of me when I am vomiting all over the place and my hair falls out. Really this is not helping me out on the hunt for the next ex-wife. You are not giving me a good option are you,” asked Carl?

                “That is not part of my job description. I am here to help you have a long productive life not search for the next ex-wife. I want you to really think about it, like I said I have seen this help other patients out and I believe your tumor will respond well and once it does then you can go on the next ex-wife search,” joked the doctor.

                “Touché doc, you are right, it is not your job description. Okay here is the game plan, we stay on the whole watchful waiting, you let me know when we either piss or get off the pot and do the treatment. We are not at that point yet in my professional opinion. Just tell me what I should look out for, so I know when to make that call with you, “said Carl.

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 2 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

2 Nov 2020 day count 1565 cumulative count 3507

                Carl got into his car. On the dash, the clock flashed 9:00. He was about 10 minutes away from the doctor’s office and he would make it with a few minutes to spare. He turned on the car and opened the windows. Lit a cigarette from the crushed pack and sucked I the fumes for a moment. He switched his phone to a podcast he was listening to yesterday that he wanted to finish and pulled the car out of the parking spot. He was sure that the conversation would be about the recent MRI he had and all that entailed, more MRI’s, his doctor recommending another procedure for more in depth testing, more money to be spent that he would have rather saved for a rainy day. Its not that he did not have insurance, it is just that with every test, with every appointment, he was always rubbing up against his annual maximum benefit. During his last brain surgery, he hit his maximum that year just from that one procedure and it did not slow the glacial growth of the tumor. Sure, everything was “free” for the rest of the year, but he had to call his brother to help him after the procedure to watch him for 4 days. He hated calling on anyone for assistance, especially his family.  

                These thoughts and others brought him to the doctor’s office without him realizing it. The building was a three-level box near the mall. He had to maneuver the car around the back as the parking lot was already full at this time of day. This office was not like his primary care docs office which was much more inviting and had a better parking lot, this office was tucked away, not visible from the main road. He often wondered how his brain doc decided on this place to establish his practice. He found a spot that was not too crowded, the car next to him had handicap plates as the handicap spots had been filled probably by daybreak. The car was askew in the spot, but not too much, Carl was able to fit his vehicle between the car and the curb. He got out and headed around the building to the main entrance. He would have to take the elevator today as the stairs were being mopped according to the wet floor sign blocking the stairway door. The elevator was slow and would get him to the office on the third floor just in time for his name to be called. It smelled a little like urine, and e was sure when he was done, the custodian would have it blocked off to clean up the accident that must have recently happened.

                Once the door slipped open to the third floor, he got out with his insurance card in hand and approached the receptionist. She was on the phone with another patient that from what he could tell was giving her all sorts of grief. Without a word he signed in, smiled at the harried receptionist and handed his card and driver’s license to her.

                “Good morning Carl, I’ll be right with you,” said the nurse, cupping her hand over the receiver.

                “Take your time, I am still early,” replied Carl.

                He found a seat near the receptionist station and opened The Paris Review from where he left off at the coffee shop. He suddenly remembered that he left the coffee that Cheryl had made him in the car, by the time he got out of here it was sure to be tepid or worse yet, cold.

                “Carl, I am ready for you,” said the receptionist.

                He jumped up and dog eared his spot in the book. He pulled out his credit card as he owed the co-pay. The process was robotic at this point with all f his specialists. He handed the card to her with a smile.

                “Did you need a receipt,” asked the receptionist?

                “That would be great, gotta keep all these for tax time right,” replied Carl.

                “Here you go, the doctor is running a bit late, but he should be ready for you in about fifteen minutes,” said the receptionist. “What are you reading this time,” she asked?

                “Oh, just last season’s Paris Review, they have a great interview with my favorite writer in this issue,” Carl replied.

                “You always bring in the best books. I wish I had time to read as much as you do.”

                “Well when you have as many appointments as I do and wait in as many waiting rooms as I do, you can catch up on a lot of reading.”

                “I don’t think I want to have as many appointments as you do. How are you feeling today,” she asked?

                “Ah well not bad, had an episode at the coffee shop before getting here, nothing serious and before you ask, yes I noted it in my tracker.”

                “I’ll let the doctor know to ask you about that, I hope he has some good news for you.”

                “I’ll just settle for news but thank you.”

                Carl made it back to his seat with the insurance card, his drivers license, credit card and receipt. He put it all away neatly in his wallet and opened his book back to the previous spot. The waiting room was not that full, he wondered where all the cars in the lot came from. That is when he remembered he was on the third floor; the other people must be on the other floors. He liked to be in the waiting rooms when it was not so busy. He finished the interview with the author he liked and tried reading the poetry in that issue. Once again it was modern stuff from people he had never heard of before. It was not bad poetry; it just was not his cup of tea. He preferred poetry from before the 60’s. Something about modern poetry with its own format didn’t agree to well with his sensibilities. He was not a prude about it, he just felt like he was missing out on the punch line of a joke. He thumbed through a few pages and then dog eared the last one. The next article was commentary on the art of fiction, and he wanted to save that for his return trip to the coffee shop. He opened his phone app that tracked what he was reading and put down the page number, he was 60% through this book. It made him feel good that he could still read at an accelerated pace.  He wondered how much longer he would be able to keep up his pace of 30 books a year. It had gone down from 50 books a year just two years ago. H reasoned that he had been reading longer books, that is why he picked up reading The Paris Review and Poetry Magazine. It helped him keep his pace up as the books were only 200 paged or so long.

                “Carl, are you ready,” asked the intake nurse?

                “Waiting to see you all day darling, how are you doing,” Carl replied in a flirtatious tone.

                “If you were ten years younger, get in here let’s get you started,” she replied jokingly.

                He had fun with the intake nurse every time he came to this specialist office. She was about ten years older than him, skinny but always upbeat. She was a smoker like him and always asked if he was ready to quit. His reply was the same each time, you first. The intake nurse took his height and weight, blood pressure and temperature.

                “Okay so I see here according to the receptionist you had an episode this morning, how are you feeling right now,” she asked?

                “I am doing okay, had a hard time getting to sleep last night and this just came out of the blue. I was picking up a butter knife to spread some cream cheese on a bagel and felt woozy, and then I was reading and fell asleep with my eyes open at the coffee shop. Nothing major, probably just need to see less doctors,” Carl reported.

                “Well if you see less doctors, that means I get to see you less and you are one of my favorites,” she replied.

                “I bet you say that to all the 42-year-old brain tumor patients,” Carl joked.

                “Nope just you. You always come in with a good book and a positive attitude. I’ll let the doctor know about that episode you had today, any others that he should know about since last time,” she asked?

                “You know me, I brought the tracker. I think the last time I was here was three months ago, so let me see, yeah there was about one each month. So, I guess I was due for one today.”

                “Hmmm, okay, does not seem like you are having more, just staying steady with about one per month. How about the severity, is that getting worse,” she asked?

                “Not that I can tell, but you know what this means, probably another trip t the MRI,” he replied.

                “Well, we will let the doc make that call, you know me, I am just a nurse. I hope you get better; the doc is just finishing up with another patient, take care,” she said with almost a tear in her voice.

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 1 NOV 2020

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at [email protected]

Shared Diary

1 Nov 2020 day count 1942 cumulative count 1942

                It was his day off, well not really a day off, he did have a doctor appointment later that morning, so he got up at his usual time and went to the coffee shop. The day had started a bit too bright for his liking, these fall mornings usually threw off his circadian rhythm, so he thought it was later than it was. Rolling over and looking at the clock the piercing red digital numbers read 6:43. He took the whole day off because he wasn’t sure of what he was going to hear from the doc that day, plus he usually didn’t use much leave time since the divorce.

                The coffee shop was his refuge since his life had fallen apart. It was not too trendy, there were people his age that would come and spend time. Being in his early forties, fewer places were open to him in that he felt like the creepy old guy. Often, he’d attend movies alone, his old friends were married and had their own lives to live, where as his life was forced to begin anew after 15 years of marriage. The dissolution of the marriage was amicable, they had no kids because he was unable to perform in that aspect. She had wanted kids, the house, two cars and the dream. Most of that he was able to provide, but the kid part was beyond his control.

                It was a similar doctor visit that he attended alone when he received the news of the impending end of his life. It was a fluke that they found the brain tumor that would eventually lead to his status. There was little they could do to help him go into remission and all he wanted to do was work until the very end. She had wanted him to take time off and just be with her. That for him was torture, he was wired differently that she was. He did not want to be mothered and nursed back to health. He wanted to go out quietly without much fanfare. When they could not see eye to eye, they both decided that he needed to see this to the end on his own terms.

                It was a Tuesday when he went to the coffee shop. There was still some fog in the air as it was not quite 7:30 AM. There were a few patrons in the shop. He stood in line and looked for his favorite spot to be open, an old couch that gave to his weight exactly right, it cuddled him into an hour or two visit each time. Luckily, no one had taken the couch so he would be able to enjoy the day despite the news he was going to receive from the doc. He stood in the line and gave the barista his drink order.

                “Red eye with an extra shot and an everything bagel please,” he said.

                “Busy day for you today huh, usually don’t see you in here this early,” replied the barista behind the bar. She worked the early shift most days and, on the weekends, he would come in and order the same drink and food. She was going to the local college in the theatre department and they had talked many times about what she was going to do after she graduated which changed ever few weeks.

                “Doctor stuff today, took the day off and couldn’t sleep in so I figured I’d come in and read or write. How is the play going,”? He asked as she was taking a playwriting class to finish her required classes this semester.

                “Having a hard time with the dialogue, my prof says write like you talk, but how exactly do you do that and make it interesting,”? She replied while mindlessly making his red eye.

                The forced steam started to run in the espresso machine so they needed to talk over the noise.

                “Well what you could do is record a conversation and then type it out to get the feel for what people talk about. “

                “Yeah, people act funny when they are being recorded, I need someone that would be natural even when I record them. Hard to find people that can act natural.” She was finishing his drink and used finger quotes when saying ‘act naturally’.

                “Well you can record me, although I doubt what I have to say would be interesting for your play,” he replied.

                “Well if you have time after your doctor stuff, would you be able to come by and I could record you, Tuesdays are pretty light here and we could go toward the back tables where few people go. That way I would not get anyone else on the tape, just us,”?

                 “Yeah I can drop by, not sure exactly what time I would be done, but I’m happy to lend a hand to a fellow writer,” he said.

                “Carl, I am not a writer, I just need to get a good grade.  Do lights, and lights don’t talk.”

                “Your dialogue is with lights and with the audience, so yeah, you do need to learn the dialogue aspect to not just get a good grade, but for when I come to see your shows with my notebook, I can be pretty ruthless with my notes.”

                “Yes Carl, I remember the first time you came to that show, you really tore my work apart,”.

                “But it was much better the next time right, a lot easier when you learned that purple and green don’t go together and when the audience can actually see the actors,”.

                “So, I guess we are going to talk about lighting design when you get back here,”?

                “Well that is one of my favorite topics, I can give you hours of tape if you have the time,”.

                “I’m on shift until 3, think you can make it before 5 because I do have a class and then a study session for my midterms in theater history,”?

                “Depends on what the doctor says, but I will make it a point ot be back here this afternoon,”.

                “What time is your doctor appointment,”?

                “It’s at 9:30, buy you know me, I hate being late,”/

                “Twenty minutes early or you are thirty minutes late,”.

                “Yep, kept me in everyone’s good graces for decades,”.

                “Here’s your redeye, extra shot and everything bagel toasted with cream chesse, you need anything else,”?

                “Nah, that should keep me going for a few hours, and yes I promise to grab some lunch after the doctors office,”.

                “Someone has to nag you until I graduate,”.

                With that, he took his drink and bagel to the comfy couch. Just like always he melted right into it and did not want to get up for hours. There were a few books ad magazines on the low coffee table. The table was weather beaten and abused with chips and cracks from having cups dropped and boots clumped on top of it. He quickly scanned his choices and mentally noted that he had read most of the books and the magazines ranged from local zines to mainstream commercial publications. He opened his bag and pulled out a copy of The Paris Review that he was working through. It was a nice issue, the short stories were good, the poetry sometimes went over his head and the interviews were what he really sank his teeth in. Opening the book, he found the dog-eared page where he left off from last time and began in earnest to waste some time and not think about what was to come.

                He started drinking the redeye, the bitterness, and the strength of the dark roast coffee that the shop specialized in warmed him up on this cool day. When he felt the caffeine jolt he read faster and took a bite of the toasted bagel. The seeds dropping onto the napkin and he decided it would be better to smear the cream cheese on it versus just dragging the bagel through it. Picking up the knife, he felt a little woozy, it started from his frontal lobe and made its way back to the center. This was his “new normal”, once the episode had passed, he put down the book and pulled out his notepad where he tracked his episodes. He tabbed through about forty pages of notes he had been taking this past year on his episodes as his doctor instructed, describing the episode, where it started, the duration and any feelings or incidents that happened while the episode took place. This was a minor one, but he knew from previous experience that he would forget or just disregard the episode and his doctor would become upset at his lack of diligence. He could hear his doctor’s gentle rebuke of him for not noting, so this year he stayed diligent in tracking these times.

                Once the episode had passed and he noted the effects carefully, he went back to drinking the red eye and munching on the bagel while reading his book. It was when his phone vibrated that he noticed he had been on the same page for what seemed like an eternity. He blinked his eyes a few times and Cheryl the barista was next to him gently shaking him from his slumber.

                “I don’t know anyone that can down a whole red eye in the middle of the morning and fall asleep, you are giving me a bad name Carl,” she said as he slowly came back to reality.

                “Its not you, just had a rough night last, didn’t get a whole lot of sleep,” he replied embarrassed that he had fallen asleep.

                “Are you feeling okay, I didn’t want to disturb you, but I know we are going to have the mid-morning rush in a few and you have a doctor’s appointment to get to,” she said with concern in her voice.

                “yeah, no, I mean, yeah 9:30 is the appointment and my phone’s alarm just went off, I should be good to go,” he said. Looking into his drink, most of it was gone and what remained of the bagel was enough for one bite. He ate the rest of it, gulped down the remaining drink and put away the book in his backpack. Slowly he stood and Cheryl handed him a fresh to go cup of black coffee.

                “Black as your soul, are you going to be okay getting to the doctors office, you can always uber it up there and back,” she asked.

                “No need, plus I put just enough in the meter so I gotta move the car anyhow,”.

                “They don’t usually start ticketing until noon, you could just leave it here,” she replied.

                “Nope, I don’t trust anyone else driving but my own. Honestly I am fine, I put it down in the tracker and I will make sure to report it to the doc, thank you for the togo cup, how much do I owe you,” he asked?

                “You got enough on your card for a free one, don’t worry about it, just get there safe and if you are up to it we can do the dialogue thing later today, but if not no worries we will handle it later,” she said.

                “I can’t let a fellow lighting designer down; I’ll be here this afternoon. Hey thanks, I will be fine,” he said. With that he left the coffee shop and went outside to the cool air. It woke him up better than the red eye.

                Cheryl looked after him as he left, worried that he would get into an accident or something. 

To reach out to me, email [email protected] I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

• Email : [email protected]