Thursday, December 26, 2013

Day 354 of the 365 Days of Blogging

The author/publisher,
Dane F. Baylis


I want to include a picture and some meteorological data to help elucidate the title on tonight's blog.
Today is the 26th of December. The day after what used to be celebrated by the pagans, Celts and druids as the returning phase of the sun. It's chronologically just a few days after the shortest day of the year, a day that, in my youth, was also the beginning of winter. If you've never done a northern latitudes winter, you have no idea what a real bitch that can be.
Today I live in Southern California, about an hour northwest of Los Angeles. That, too, can be confusing. If Los Angeles is on the WEST coast, how do you live to the North West of it? Well, LA's coastline actually runs east/west for quite some distance, so, in reality, I live a good deal further west than Los Angeles.
The weather, on the day after Christmas, is another thing that would confuse you if you hadn't lived here for a couple of years. Bright sun-drenched skies, temperatures in the low 80's and the dry, desert generated, Santa Ana winds trying to turn everything into raisins, dates, and prunes. But it is that kind of paradox that's good for my writer's mind. Most people who come out here from back east end up missing the change of seasons marked by highly divergent temperatures and weather.


Granted, a couple of weeks ago I was a short three hour drive from where I live and freezing my butt off.

This is one of the few places you can live where you can ski all day today, go skinny-dip in a hot spring in the desert tomorrow, and surf off golden sand beaches the next. Some of the migrants who come here never adapt to the climate and leave in search of more familiar environs. If you can get over your own nostalgia, it's a pretty good place to let your schizophrenic nature bloom and flourish.

Point? I've seen and associated with so many people who have sought that Shangrila homestead, only to be discouraged by their own illusions of what they were trying to find. The freedom and inspiration begins inside your heart and mind. Everything else is nothing more than a giant parts bin to pick out the bits and pieces that you need to actualize a physical manifestation of your imagination. I could no more live in downtown Los Angeles these days than I could the middle of the Gobi Desert, but being able to visit there is fodder for a million character studies and stories.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------, love, write.
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Dane F. Baylis

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