Tag: life

Three Steps to Summer

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A late afternoon has crept upon me and I find myself somehow surprised that it already has ticked near on 5pm. It is a simply gorgeous spring day here even if a bit warmer than I would desire. The sun still shines overhead and the breeze ruffles my shirt and reminds me that summer is not yet here. I almost let this afternoon slip away, drowsing away the weariness at home. Yet…upon looking outside and seeing the day blazing brilliant blue, how could I stay indoors? And so on go the shoes, with book and laptop tossed in backpack and away I went. It’s been a while since I’ve done the afternoon EQ walk. And though it isn’t quite EQ anymore – not sure I will ever be used to calling it Caffvino – it is lovely to sit here on the porch once more and enjoy the steady hum of the conversations round about. The music layers on and then also the traffic sounds are omnipresent as one may guess. I do find myself amused at the music playlist choices. While at one time it was punk and rock and emo angst, now…well, sounds more like hipster-folk-core or some such. Sounds like music one might listen to as they drive the mountain roads, camping gear slung on top. Definitely not the music of EQ of old.

Now what shall my fingers dance on to talk about? I suppose I might further share the loveliness of the day and chronicle my morning. I woke up later than typical but it was still early enough to enjoy a walk before the sun had fully risen above the horizon. A quick cup of coffee was brewed into my little to-go cup and onward I walked – MKT trail as is proper of a morning. Oh how beautiful sang the day! It was just cool enough that I relished the warm sips of coffee I would take from time to time and yet just warm enough to make me think of springtime. And speaking of springtime…as I walked down the trail, I caught a whiff of loveliness and stopped of a sudden. Could it be? And yes it was. The first scent of jasmine of spring. Always a delight and it will never not be one of my favourite moments of the year. I looked to my right and saw the very first delicate blooms of jasmine on the hedge that ran along the trail. How could my heart not sing? Ah how I love the jasmine flower and the memories that come with! With renewed joy I walked further down the trail down to the bridge, the spot from which many times I have stopped and thought and mused and prayed and this day I let my eyes dance as they gazed upon the bayou stretching towards downtown and the far-off buildings that seemed as dwarfs under the eastern sky. The sun now said hello in full and shimmered in a friendly manner and reminded me that a lovely day was at hand. I walked back and let my eyes rest upon the construction work that some may call a blight yet I find a treasure. The old buildings with the faded “COMPANY REFINERY” upon the side are now being renewed once more, the faded bricks glorified as the new windows are fitted and the surrounding ground turned over in preparation for what is to come – unknown to me yet I hope perhaps for something more than a retail park or office spaces. We shall see. Yet it gives me joy to see buildings not torn down and tossed asunder but renewed and made to rise again in splendour. I walked past the construction site and soon enough found myself almost home. I stopped to stretch and laughed to myself at how good my legs felt in the process. Does this mean my legs are not quite as young as they used to be that I find such pleasure in the perfect feeling of completion that comes after a proper stretch? Perhaps, perhaps. I have been accused of not looking as young as I used to, after all. Later on in the day, I would receive a comment from someone who had not seen me in a while remarking upon my salt and pepper hair. Well, I will not deny that my years have crept up upon me. And I will in that acknowledgement look up to heaven and say a prayer and praise my God for all that He has granted me. This has been a good day. It has been a day that I have been reminded that even as I turn towards sunset there is a far country that calls my name.

She Sits Atop the Wooden Table

James HoganLeave a comment

A bare few words here this cold Friday morning. I was hoping I’d have time to write something profound and sweeping and glorious and in actuality I did have the time. Alas, I am at times my own worst enemy and instead of writing I found my thoughts bobbing here and there and my focus slipping as I darted to and fro on the interwebs instead of attempting to write a few words here. Now attempting to salvage, though I fear it will simply be a life raft floating on the dying waves. Anyway! Does one have to write of a morning to make it a worthwhile one? I say not, most certainly invested in the answer – as most mornings I of course do not! So I shall rest in this day and look forward to seeing what God has in store for me his child. It is a good day, that I declare in full confidence and humble expectation. Perhaps I shall write a few words later today or maybe even this weekend. We shall see. But whether I write or not, still know that my face is still turned up in gratitude to heaven and that my heart beats in time with the song of angels. Peace, my friends. Peace and love.

A Day Arises She Sings Once Again

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I really must write more. It is early Monday morning here in the flat and I have been perusing old entries and it has perhaps put me in a nostalgic mood. Also I have noted how my writing style has changed and morphed over the years in both content and form. For better or for worse? I shall leave others to say. But it is certain that in the past my entries used to be a bit more proper journal style and now, well…it seems that only my poetical or grasping creative fancies are what I decide to pour out on this screen. Oh, and book reviews of course. Never forget the book reviews! I wonder what it is, this slight drawing back, this pulling the curtain over my face ever so slightly. It perhaps reflects my growing, maturation dare I say? Maybe it is an acknowledgement that the internet is not quite as young and innocent as it was back in the day. Of course it never was, but I was more naive back then. Now, if I share on here, it feels riddles is the order of the day. Wade through enough metaphorical language and you may glimpse my heart. I know not all the reasons yet still it is fascinating to wonder.

And now my mind drifts as my fingers wander and I think perhaps it’s alright that I don’t write of my days in detail as I once used to do. Though I’m grateful for the chronicling of the past and the memories that now float through my mind for it spurs thoughts of gratitude and joy. Gratitude to the God who has blessed me far more than this young man could ever have hoped to dream. Joy for the life this same God has given me – a life poured out as offering devoted to the One who holds my hand yet a life blazing forth full of light from that same God who fills me in ways I most likely won’t ever truly comprehend. I am a broken vessel, a clay pot. Who am I to show forth this brilliant glory? Who am I to write down this achingly beautiful song? I bow my head in praises to the One who made me, to the One who called my name.

Perhaps I shall write more of my life in the future. Perhaps not. But I’m grateful for the thoughts that flood my being and the emotions that well up within.

Alley Cat

James HoganLeave a comment

Hello friends! A little Sunday afternoon writing extravaganza – or perhaps more of a small digression on the ordinary – and I’m really not sure why I’m writing other than the fact that I do happen to have a bit of time and I felt it would be silly to waste it. Hence laptop open and all that. I really don’t have much to write about but from time to time it’s important to leap headfirst into the chasm without the benefit of any sort of extraction plan. It’s a bit freeing and even beneficial, I would argue, for strengthening the creative muscles that too often can lay dormant as one lazes about here and there. But now, in actuality, I am writing far too many words on nothing as a vacant look begins to grow in my eyes. I allow my imagination to wander afield but now I think I’ve lost her and wherever she is now, I suppose there isn’t any signal. It is a shame, really, when I think of all the wasted moments when I’m driving on the highway and my muse sparks to life. I construct a cathedral of perfect images and the moments that cause one’s heart to stutter in awe and disbelief. But that super structure is ethereal of necessity and given enough time – say, the ten minutes more it takes for me to complete my drive and pull into a parking space – the distractions of what some call real life creep stealthily in and before I know it, I see a puff of smoke upon the wind and pronounce in subdued tones the burial rites for that which may possibly be the greatest creation ever to grace the alleyways of my mind. Now though? I write about all and sundry in part just to drive away the growing dread that I have nothing of worth to say. At least I’m writing I tell myself. At least the words are pouring forth and if no one judges them to rank high in profundity at least no one accuses them of being bland. At least no one says this to my face. Behind my back, who knows. All the comments may be bandied back and forth and perhaps some harsh words on my output may trickle forth from time to time. Yet worse than that of course? The sheer apathy of most and the highest of likelihoods that in actuality no one says much of anything about my work at all. This is of course true and I write these words acknowledging the fact to steel my soul and grimly laugh and acknowledge that even what I love to write here and now does not really have a lasting place beyond the here and now. If I in self-deprecating humor poke at myself and acknowledge my lack of worth or art, does that mean I cry a little less inside? Perhaps. Is it worth it? Perhaps. Still my soul aches to know that I’ve written something beautiful, even if it just once or twice. I doubt I will live to see that day. But let not my bitterness cloud the moment, let not my weeping smear the panes. Instead, I’ll flick on the windshield wipers and allow myself to keep driving forward and I’ll focus on the taillights in front of me as I do my best to escape this pouring rain. Even in the mixed metaphors which clutter my writing it seems I can’t escape my own mediocrity. But to reference my above, is it still not better that I’ve written something? Look up above and see the sunlight breaking through. Do you happen to have a pen and spare piece of paper about you? I’d love to write a quick poem if you do.

Babes in Toyland

James HoganLeave a comment

A lovely day is winding to a close. But not yet. Not yet! Dani and I had a most lovely walk today – 4.5 miles initially up to 19th, back to MKT and then home…and then after a quick stop at home, decided the outside time could not be done yet! We walked down White Oak to Onion Creek and had a lovely porch time talking and soaking in the sunshine and just being together. Oh bliss. Now back home and a lovely little classical playlist in the background and the candle giving warmth and beauty and soon we shall have dinner. But not quite yet. I think I shall pick up my book and read a few words and just lift my thoughts to heaven and praise my God for all that He has given me. Praise be to my Lord Jesus – him who has given me all and called me to know him now and yea even to eternity.

Alpine

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Hello friends! Writing on a Sunday evening, as is typical of late I suppose. A few words now, most likely nothing creative tonight as I’d love some nice time to read and reflect and muse and ponder on oh so many things. It’s been a lovely Sunday here. Woke up to the temperature hovering about the 40 degree mark, which made my early Sunday morning walk even more perfect. Turtleneck on, jacket zipped – let’s go! The fresh sunlight warmed my face and the hot coffee that I carried with me warmed the rest of my parts and I breathed deep the winter air as I thought on how good my God is to me his child. I did come back home eventually and of course had to turn on the TV to watch the hockey gold medal match. Although they looked oft overmatched at times, the USA somehow pulled out the victory in OT to grab the gold. Go USA!!! That goalie was a beast, stopping oh so many shots that looked like sure goals in any other game. I have to say, speaking of Olympics, how much Dani and I have enjoyed these winter games in Milan. I do usually enjoy watching all the crazy winter sports of test and skill that are on offer, but feel it’s been extra fun this year! Dani and I enjoyed every night turning on the TV and marveling at the feats on display. Especially enjoyed the ladies’ figure skating – what dazzling skill and beauty intermingled! Big congrats to Ms. Alysa Liu at grabbing the gold – first US ladies figure skating gold since 2002! Also loved seeing Amber Glenn’s comeback skate as well as the marvelous skates of the Japanese ladies. Of course there was more than figure skating – loved seeing the downhill and halfpipe events and even showing Dani the craziness of the biathlon. What better combo than skiing and shooting?? Ah now I’ve gone and spent far too many words on the Olympics. But again…it only comes once every four years!

Back to the Sunday recap. Church was encouraging and beautiful and it was oh so good to worship God in the presence of my brothers and sisters and meditate on the wondrous love of my God who suffered and died that I might live eternally! Following church? Alas a quick work meeting was on the calendar, but after that Dani and I had lunch down the street at Local Foods and enjoyed some yummy sandwiches and even better time talking and being silly and just being together. Then…a walk down to the bridge and back, with the special treat of an ice cream stop at MKT. That may have been the favourite part of my day, sitting at MKT in the brilliant mid-afternoon sunshine as Dani enjoyed her ice cream.

Now, off to decide either to write a few words on something else or grab my book and read a few pages while I enjoy this Sunday night. Peace, my friends. Peace and love.

Reflections

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A few more words of the non-creative variety. I wanted to mention that I am heartily enjoying the electro-swing that is the current music du jour here at Antidote. Also – I didn’t mention in my previous, but it is now a week since Mom was here in Houston staying with Dani and I. I will not spill all the ink discussing our various adventures here but simply wanted it to be in the chronicles. May it be known that it was a time of love and laughter and all the wonderful talks and smiles and prayers. How precious was it to show her a bit of our life here in Houston, the life that our God has given us this year of 2026. Sometimes one knows they are blessed and richly loved, but to then have the chance for someone (such as Mom!) to come and visit and see it all displayed, one’s breath catches and one is ever so thrilled all the more as that life shines forth in technicolor dazzling in all its glories. Praise to the Lord the Almighty!

Big Air

James HoganLeave a comment

Hello friends! At the coffeeshop this gorgeous mid-February day! It is such a nice day out – one of those rare Houston days that causes one to rise up and take notice and nod slowly in approval – that it is really almost a shame to sit indoors at the moment, but I do crave some writing time. And I don’t feel too guilty for wasting the beauty of the day since it was well enjoyed earlier today. Had my traditional early Sunday morning walk down to the bridge and it was simply lovely breathing in the fresh air and observing the fresh-washed surroundings after our downpours last night. And then after church, Dani and I thought that this weather simply demanded that a picnic be adventured. And so it was. We grabbed some poke bowls from HEB and proceeded on our standard MKT walk, ending up at a little picnic table where the poke was enjoyed in the open air, with the people walking by serving as entertainment and the various conversations and children’s shrieks serving as our background music. Bit better than a couch in front of a TV, mm? It was beautiful, all the more though because it was with the Dani and mid-afternoon on a simply sublime day. Can my heart repine? I think not.

So now at the Antidote and I am enjoying sitting in my tall hard-backed chair and typing furiously away on this keyboard as I raise my head now and again to observe the patrons that sit around me. There’s an older couple sitting in the central couch, enjoying the Sunday paper and a magazine as they now and again whisper smiles to each other. The woman’s long hair is a gorgeous silver and the man looks quite happy with the little comments he tosses her way now and again, her breaking out into laughter at his last. I look forward to the day when that is Dani and I! Then the majority of the rest of the people inside here are mirroring I (or am I mirroring them?) and on their laptops, some with headphones/ear buds, some with the naked ear exposed for all to see. Scandalous! And I sit here, writing about all and sundry as I sip slowly on my smolderingly hot decaf americano. Yes, decaf. It’s approaching 5pm, after all! Now? What more shall I write about? Well I think this chatty post has about served its purpose, warming up my fingers and stretching the thoughts of my muse to the point where it is about ready to burst forth into spontaneous song. Pardon for what may follow. But for all of you wherever you may sit and whatever you are doing, thanks for reading a little bit of my nonsense. Peace and love.

These Happy Golden Years

James HoganLeave a comment

A roast chicken is in the oven. Obviously with the obligatory potatoes, carrots and onions in the pan alongside. About to sit down on the couch and relax a bit with a bit of reading (Haunt of Jackals, let’s go!). And oh how lovely this day has been to relax with Dani and Mom, walking to and fro, enjoying various patios and delighting in all the talking about all the things! A movie night later on, methinks. And though there are little trials and tribulations that float and hover here and there, I still now just breathe deep and thank my God for what He has given me this day. I am supremely blessed far beyond all that I could imagine in my wildest dreams. Now I go to find a pretty piece of music to play as I take up my book and read. Peace and love, my dear friends. Oh how I pray this night you all may truly be at peace.

MKT

James HoganLeave a comment

He walks down the sidewalk in time to a tune only he can hear. It’s been in his head, in his thoughts, in his dreams and even now if he tries he can hum it to drown out all the other melodies that strive for supremacy. He sweeps out his boot across the grass that springs up before him and he halfway skips across the street. The half-broken neon sign beckons him onward for a tasty sugary treat. But not today, old friend, not today. Instead he hums those bars he heard a few hours ago at the opera and thinks of the life that he calls his own. There are little prickly bits here and there of course and it’s easy to snort and roll one’s eyes at the perky hellos he’s given on any given day. Yet rather wouldn’t it be better to dwell on those things that are miraculous in and of themselves? The moonlight glancing upon the surface of the bayou, the cold air giving cause for wearing turtlenecks, even yes those bare branches that testify to the possibility of coming spring. Isn’t his life rather swell? He raises his eyes to the heavens and sighs at the impossibly perfect clouds that float afore his gaze. He walks on down the sidewalk and lifts up his thoughts in prayer. A fellow traveler walks from the other way and meets his eyes and so he offers up a bright hello! A genuine smile replies.