Didn’t arrive as late as I thought.  Took Emma to school, and traffic everywhere.  People sliding and gliding on all streets and sidestreets, even the freeway.  Sipping coffee with no lid.  Already one aim for day met.  Starbucks, not one visit.  Not so much for the money aspect, though that is very much a prime part of it, but the time that it drains and feeds upon.  Yesterday I must have been at the Hopper location for close to 25 minutes between standing in line and ordering, having to repeat my order then wait for everything to be brought out.  Second aim for day…. Write at lunch.  NO eating off campus.  No going off campus.  And it was Saturday, not Sunday with the afore Starbucks visit.

Meetings all day.  Or, not all day, but three throughout day.  Driving back to Petaluma shortly, to meet with the prospect from Friday.  Keep conversation alive and sped, steadfast.  Last aim for day for day, centralize in my practice here at Sonic.  Which is of course the conversation, but more than that… community, but even more than that.  Not sure I have a word for it quite yet.  I know what I intend and intone, but don’t have words placed.  No matter.  I don’t need words, or a singular word.  I’m overthinking this, as I do most things.  In tech, encourage and provoked to put my own definition and dote to it.

Okay… ready for this set of pages.  The day.  Today. Keep writing, stop thinking… want to start conversations, carry them to places I don’t know… want to feel imbalance, off-kilter (much I hate that word).  Learn…. Take notes…  Study.  Take your time.  There is no value in rushing, stressing, overthinking.  Ever.  Notes on post-it’s… an idea.  Now I’m more than eager for the pages approaching my shore.


Starting my own thing, or agency, in this new position.  Truly making it my own and more than the trite and rehearsed way of doing so.  Creative, communication… more than that. This job is not at all a job, I’m seeing.  It’s a loving test of self ability and sight, progression and momentums.  MY story.  I always tell students to be a fan of themselves. This is the invitation to actuate what I advocate.

We need do this more, and tell ourselves more.  Especially if we’re in sales, that we have more than just some unique and distinguished ability to do what we do, and much beyond the selling part.  We’re all starting our own operations if we bring ourselves to such a stage, such a posture and vocal.

Going to take a quick break, do some work for self and for Sonic, and see what else I can do with the day.  Don’t have a list of to-do, or cascade of daily aims.  I’m listing everything after it’s done.  One point at a time.  Another embrace of my embrace of singularity and the sense of singular points of exploration and heartfelt education, self-education and elucidation.

Thinking like an agency owner.  My own agency and business.  That’s what’s encouraged in this division, and not at all hype or embellishment.  Not at all.  I have been wondering, what took so long for me to find this, but that’s a futile framing of mind and movement.  I’m here, I’m doing it and by it I mean writing and speaking with some return.  Work… we all work, but do we all love what we do this much?  We all should, but we need be fans of ourselves first, truly.  If you’re in sales and marketing, or one or the other singularly then we ought know our character and story, and love to read and re-read it, have no fear of it being read.

In sales, it has to be “your own thing”.  That’s all there is.  And always.  When you own something, the only shape of thought is seeing it elevate and succeed.  Do you job less, don’t focus so much on conversion.  Conversion will occur and sales will be logged if you’re having conversations in heartfelt form.  Again, especially if you’re in sales.  Make the story yours, and if you’re having trouble doing so, remove yourself. Just have a conversation, enjoy the conversation and the day and your place, significance, in it.  It’s your story, remember that.


4:17pm, back a little bit ago from canvassing businesses in Airport District.  Tired and unmotivated.  Pushing self to keep moving.  This helps, this pushing of keys.  Guy who sits next to me just wish me a good weekend.  Wine on mind, running in morning, the whole day tomorrow to self.

Hungry as well.  Nothing to write nor think…. Zen in mind pen, inner tablets, pages, papers blown one way and the other by meditative gusts.

People behind me, in other department laughing.  Definitely the weekend, and their voices are celebratory and lit like street lights and buildings in Times Square.  Not sure I have the energy to make another call. Okay, I tell myself.  Just one more.  Actuate.  Don’t at all advocate.  This is your agency.

Loving Blurb….

Love your mornings.  This morning teaching me that I can re-write, and I will, I’m going to, right now.  What can stop me?  Nothing.  And, nothing wants to stop me.  Don’t see things like that.  Everything is encouraging me, loving me, loving my passion for words and teaching, students and my babies, family and health, reading, writing… all my yay-saying yells and professing—

Love is with me, this morning.

So, je gagne.


img_9527Not a lot of time to write, but I’m writing.  Had such a rich and telling meeting with English 1B section.  Will be sad to see the term end.  But as always, they do.  Looking over notes, my jot to self about being in a workshop and just staring at the bench— thinking about how that metaphor would be taken, should be translated.  Part of me shares the thought with the other part, in that it’s the invite to create, while yet another sees it as an urgency to not deliberate for too long.  To ACT… create!  Waiting will only keep you in place.

Driving up to winery after this.  Still feel run from last night, my 6-point-whatever miles on the treadmill.  When the lights went down, I felt more charge, more electricity in my character.  At first, I didn’t want to run… I remember driving there thinking about how tired I am and how early I have to get up the next day, then I told myself bluntly to SHUT UP.  Keep working, I said.  “If you’re a tireless writer, I expect that.” Yes.  Of course.

Seven minutes and I have to pack up and rush down these Emeritus Hall stairs.  Today, reader, be tireless.  Be an animal.  Shock yourself with everything you can get done.  And why not live in the moment and be madly in love with all your moments.  You may not have a lot of time in some spots, but you DO have some time, some time to change your story and re-write as you see ought, go where you want to go.  The only entity that can keep you in one place is YOU.  Remember that.  If you find yourself up half the mountain, and you feel winded, or a bit tired, take a second to congratulate yourself that you have started the journey and you’ve made it half the way.  Then, get back into tireless form and keep climbing.  Think of how sweet that view will be… think of how lovely the air will taste coming back down… the views, the views.

There is something mammoth and marvelous for all of us.  Go to the bench.  Think.  Then build.  Create.

Reinvention is

a concept that’s always fascinated me.  For what… why reinvent?  Well, if you have some aim, some goal or dream… you have to want to reinvent— or more than wanting to, you’ll have to.  Something will have to change.

Creativity solves everything.  I say this over and over in class.  Now to actuate in exponential folds.  This newer Mike Madigan will be the hardest working writer in history.  Think the place just opened, hearing Jeff the owner ask, “So are we all ready?” Tempted to order something to eat, but keep expenses to a minimum.  Starting or building a business, you have to hate the idea of spending money, I’m finding.  Seems cruel now, but I know it’ll feel affable later.  But I’m hungry… what do I do.  Don’t heat.  Hunger is one of the best disciplines.. heightened awareness, swift in action and creativity, centralized and here.  Try it, reader!  I’m not saying you should go on some horrible fast, but try prolonging your next meal, see what transpires.

Thought 3

Make today one of the most creative days of your life.  And don’t tell me you’re not creative.  Everyone’s creative.  And not just “to some extent”.  No, everyone is creative.  You’re a CPA, a lawyer, doctor, truck driver…?  You’re creative, or can be, with how you approach your day, how you plan it, how you actuate your duties and how well you do.  Creativity solves everything.  I will say this till not here anymore.  When you exercise creative acts and solve problems creatively you’re expending your identity in what you do, and your principle identity as a Human Being.  This is something I’ve only learned recently, and yes I may be a bit excited to share it with you, but I couldn’t believe it more fiercely if I tried.  There’s something blocking you, or troubling you, you have some issue to solve?  The more creativity you introduce to the moment and the existential transaction, the more probable a quick and thorough, the more definite, a solution will find you.

Bored?  Get creative.  Make your moment not-boring.  Make it exciting.  Make it crazy.  Make it a party.

In a bad mood?  Channel it.  Use the frustration or anger against itself.  Do just the opposite… be kind, and loving, and positive with everything around you.  Yes, you have to bring yourself to this state, and want it.  But, why wouldn’t you want it?  Letting your shorter-than-short, cruelly curt time on this plant dissolve into anger or boredom, bitterness or anything not creatively ablaze is insanity, to me.  Test yourself.  Shock yourself.  Treat yourself to a new story and scope.

12/16/16 poz blog

Rain gone.  Sky, confessional.  Only blue, only what’s up there, no obstruction.  Need to finish projects today…  MUST.  Making list now, in Carpe journal.  Wind outside, and that post-rain chill.  Love it.  Can’t wait for my lunchtime vineyard walk.

Jumping from project to project now.  Just how I am.  Not sure that’s the healthiest habit but that’s me and that’s what keeps me creative.

Quiet in the office, gives me time to collect, time to reflect on what I have to write for Debra and myself and other clients.

Interview I did this morning with Andy Katz, him hiking with his son and daughter-in-law, reflecting on the simplicity of only carrying one camera rather than all his gear.. how the simplicity and the light nature of his travel that day around that park contributed to his creativity… made this writer think.

Wanted to write a ‘#papablogga’ article, but decided

img_8055to write freely instead, celebrate this night of quiet and decaf downstairs while the dryer flies upstairs making those non-patterned cling clank clug clung clunk sounds.  Waking tomorrow at 4.  There is no doubt.  I’m not giving myself much option to do anything else.  Only wake, write, be creative.  May workout a bit, too.  IF I’m thinking in terms of branding myself, being my own story, or … whatever I’m trying to say… personal brand… then I have to be extreme and visible with everything.  Right?  Shit.. I can’t afford any more delays at my age.

Going to take more pictures and try to do something with them.  What, I don’t know.  Just want to play with images, see where they get me, if anywhere.  Probably nowhere, if anything they’ll just be garnish to the writing but at least they’ll be decent, or better than decent.  IT’s funny, actually, there are times when people will read my blog and say they “like the writing” but “LOVE the pictures”.  And I get upset.  I probably shouldn’t, but I do.  I’m a proud writer, who like photog’, or maybe even loves it.  BUT, I want to be seen a writer, always.  Just something I had to say, or get off my chest.  MY branding, about being a writer— discipline (hence no wine tonight and waking at 4 tomorrow), volume (1000 words to 3 FULL pages a day, target), never stopping.  Need a quick break, will be back in a handful of breaths for a couple hundred more words before sleep.

I’m not fucking stopping tonight.  So maybe I won’t sleep.

wine sketchez

Schug Winery – 2012 – Merlot – Sonoma County

img_7869Easy-going Merlot with that jazz that I look for in any wine.  And it’s not the Merlot type that so many self-sworn “experts” just want to write away with disgruntled barbs and obnoxious dismissal.  This bottle shows rounded and eclectic palate presence with an unusually convincing fruit structure entailing cherry, blueberry, a little strawberry and mint-chocolate.  Soft grip and a tremolo’d finish that’ll carry you to the next sip.  Not what people think of, or what they’re told to think of (what I find happens most often), when Merlot comes up in discussion or is poured at the table.  This wine shows speed and swagger, sense and syllabic sensibility.  Its own language and sound form.  One of those Coltrane solos that you replay over and over while driving down Highway 1, window down, where you smell the ocean, where the ocean talks to you through phantasmic breezy shoves.  After about 40 or so minutes open inviting oxygen down through neck, she starts to narrate what Sonoma is entirely about— elegant approachability.  No vanity, only a story and conversation through Bordeaux’s always shoved cast member.  It’s relaxed disposition is just what makes it un tel amour.