It is said that what you see is what you get.  But what happens when you don’t see everything? To me, that’s always the case.  You never fully see another human being.  You only get glimpses, snippets, a couple chapters of the book.  That’s all this blog is: just a side a me, pictures of me, and not the whole me.  Add to that the changing nature of being human.  Wow.  Looking fuzzy right about now?

Regardless of these things, I hope to bring a huge part of my better humanity to these pages.  Whether one or many find these words enjoyable enough to read, I hope that I have done so with heart, integrity, and authenticity.

I enjoy other things besides cats. I have written poetry and composed music, and while not faithful enough to develop either of these, or perhaps not talented enough, I still do them and feel as if I am obeying the laws of who I am and was created to be when  I do these things.  I have a keen interest in other cultures, especially Africa.  I love the djembe and have been playing off and on for years, in large part due to finances and the lack of this type of music and teaching in my area of the U.S.  Oh Portland, Oregon … how good you look to a hand drummer!

I also enjoy simplicity.  Maybe that is why I am so drawn to cats.  And just like cats, I love the sensual, in the pure sense of the word: experiencing life with the senses.  To touch, taste, see, hear, and smell life and all the good that it offers.  I love metaphor and may use it often here.  It is one of the most powerful teaching methods I’ve ever encountered.  It embeds truth deep into our hearts and minds. Appealing and consumable, it assimilates into core places of who we are.

Lastly, I love to read.  I have been reading fiction for 3 years now, and have found my way through the romance, thrillers, and suspense novels of Lisa Jackson, Sandra Brown, Karen Slaughter, Tess Gerritsen, J.R. Rain, Dean Koontz, James Patterson, and recently, Stephen King.  This in no way encompasses my reading interests or the types of books I consider timeless.  But allow me to indulge my favorite novel of all time: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.  It’s form, it’s intelligence, it’s endless lessons and applications – all from a girl around the age of 18 who took up a challenge among male authors to write a grueling horror story.  One for the team – Go Mary!

I can only dream of becoming so classic and renowned …

Until then, just call me Jane. Plain and simple, and overall, happy.


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