The crisp clean looking seagulls, who's opportunistic nature perch them adjacent to the solid waste burn pit on camp, is sorely incongruous.

I am in awe at the often disconnected, 'mis-fire' feeling this area emanates.

Last night, during evening prayer, which is blasted over loud speakers right outside the camp, there was a short, ten minute fire fight. The two sounds, while ultimately opposed, together sound almost normal to me now.

Prayers often accompany or follow a bombing.

Two days ago it hit 110 degrees and today it was a cool 80 with a breeze which almost felt chilly. It's kinda creepy here sometimes.

I have been here just over a year and I am still making new and fabulous friends. One, in particular, I will hopefully do some traveling with.

Amazing how a new friend can turn your entire attitude around.

After almost four years of marriage to my ex-husband Mark, he told me, in our living room in Fairbanks, Alaska, that he didn't love me as much as I loved him, and, that he never had. He said that he knew on the day we got married that it was not right for him and that it would not last.

I used to ask myself how I had been such a bad person, such a horrible wife to deserve no longer being loved. But, over time, I realized that it was not that he didn't love me or even that I did not deserve to be loved, but that he had not been true to himself back on May 26, 2001.

Had Mark been true to himself, which is a choice for all of us at all times, we both would have skipped the heartache of a failed marriage and a divorce. Would it have hurt me to be told on my wedding day that he didn't want to go through with it? Yes... My gosh, I know it would have, I am sure I would have been crushed, but neither of us would have then spent the time and energy on something he alone knew in his heart was not right for him.

I am very glad though, that, even after the almost four years, he did speak up. He would be doing a great disservice to himself and to me and all our friends and family if he was to remain longer in a marriage that he knew in his heart was a mistake.

I have, since February of 2006, been mired in thoughts and feelings and emotions which have been the culmination of closure to the healing that I have been processing through after my divorce. I have come to the conclusion after all of this that it is essential to be true to oneself. When I speak of being true to oneself, the above is the reasoning behind my philosophy. Being true to oneself at all times is the only way to perpetuate the movement of love in the world. There is always a kind a compassionate way to say everything we want and need to say, even if we know the outcome of those words is predestined to cause someone some amount of pain.

For me, the 'crushed' of being left at the alter would have been an entirely different kind of 'crushed' than being left in the living room, during a time when I thought all was well in my life and relationship.

In all circumstances, there is what is right and what is wrong. I think many people think about right and wrong as they were taught as children - the right and wrong of externalities; the "don't run with scissors" theory.
But life has shown me that right and wrong have to do with internal aspects as much as, if not more than, external exposures and forces.

Why did Mark marry me? I think he felt bound by guilt to a commitment he made in a time of his life when he was not being true to himself. He was finally able to make the realization that he had not been true to himself and he gained the courage to act upon it. I commend him for his actions in being instrumental in the perpetuation of love in this world. His honesty has not only freed me to explore the world as I have always desired, but it took Mark courage and searching which lead to realization on his part. It led to the truth. I admire those qualities in anyone.

As I pass through my life I will continually affirm that I feel it is best to live by the rule of being true to oneself. Because, you see, whichever path being true takes a person on is ultimately the right one. You inherently know what is right for you. We all do. The key is accepting that we carry that knowledge and then being brave enough to act upon it with kindness and compassion; which is the manifestation of love.

What is really going on in Iraq.

This is Wilhemena, the jumping spider. We just call her Willa for short. She is a great little beast to have in the area as when she jumps, she is catching flies that are buzzing by!

She let me get within about 6" of her before she had enough and left. Little thing kept turning around side to side, as if saying "Oh did you get this angle? Hmm? Let me turn this way... wait, try this side."

For a fuzzy, four-eyed spider, she was pretty stinkin' cute.

Evening’s heavy dreams
have bruised the day
Will the beatings end?
Or will tomorrow, be as black
and blue as today?
Evening’s heavy sighs
have filled the air with breath
They speak the unspoken
Is there an answer in store,
Thick with the scent of prospects?
Sweet smells linger
from a paltry few
But here, the rancid
out-stench the dew.

Copyright Bleuzette Dryer 04.10.2006

What he brought with him
all these miles from home
knowing he’d be out in the desert
for a time completely unknown
Not sure if he’d be back
In the arms of his boys soon
or for that matter, ever

He brought with him passion
and thought, and a type of music
wrought with pain and love
jealousy, shame, joy, disdain
but mostly love
those things that make our essence human
those things that we are made of

What he brought with him
all these miles from home
Was a battered heart closed for business
which was ultimately shown only
after months of guarded actions
fighting instincts - not thought of as answers
but put down upon as the enemy

He brought with him a careful step
and a light touch, averted eyes
- a basic mental crutch that keeps the
world outside… where it doesn’t belong
he brought the type of things un-packable
the perfect luggage of transient nature
Just passing through on a mission, unstoppable

What he brought with him
all these miles from home
was a reluctant soul of potential imposition
anticipating actions
that stop his heart alone
The essentials only
were what he brought from home


copyright Bleuzette Dryer 2005

Hi,
This is me --------------------------->
My name is Bleu and I write poetry and short stories.
If you are reading this you must know me somehow as I have only invited a few folks to view it. Not 'cuz I'm so damn special, but because I only know a few folks.

I will try to post daily, but ya know, I am a little busy over here.

I will be using this as a platform for my writing. Constructive criticism is welcome.
(I am often told I start well and finish poorly, so those of you who have said that to me please note I am 'a workin' on it!) This is post numero uno.



Smooth and shiny,
Curved and sexy,
Brassy, classy, sassy sound -
Hot with breath
Blowing sweet and moist,
Warm and sultry,
Down and dirty,
High and mighty,
Damn Dead sexy
Sensual, saucy,
Sound - bite lexicons
pushed out into once still air...
Dripping humid accumulation
On the dull black floor
Creating a sticky micky mucky deck
Of audio bliss.


written in honor of Chris Botti, Dead Sexy Professional Trumpet Player