$824.6 Billion

In response to Kurt Vonnegut’s, Fates Worse Than Death: When I was a child is such a cliché way to start a paragraph.  I might…

The day wouldn’t write…

In response to Leonard Cohen’s, “The Book of Longing“: In those hours before I am ready to let go of the ephemeral place and allow…

Thoughts on a photograph, 5 August 2017

Official White House Photo by Pete Souza (2011) These last few months have brought up some very dark perspectives for the future for me.  Even…

500 words

desperation500 words yet unwritten, allowing me to sense their continuous presence, taunting me with their potential and their cleverness just out of reach, blaming me somehow for all the shortcomings of mankind, or at least my own, as if it were my fault that I love them so desperately but forget their order too quickly to put them into the world that expects so much and so little of them.

A portrait without pictures

author’s note: My apologies in advance to those of you arriving here expecting a photograph.  I know that this is a cheat. A portrait in words is not a photograph. However, a portrait in words is still a portrait and because the day ended without a chance to take a picture, I cannot let this day, of all days, be empty.

There are many others that knew her better, or differently, but we were close in a way that only we could have been. I think she had that effect on many that she encountered.

I knew her only in the later years of life. She had already buried her husband and needed a cane to walk safely. She wasn’t quite as tall as she had once been, but my first impressions (and every impression after) were that of a beautiful woman who cared. She cared for family. She cared for friends. She cared for God. She cared for society and the world. There seemed to be no limit for her capicity to love, no matter the circumstance.

In speaking with her, in English or French all the way to her last moments, you found immediately an intelligence possessed by few and a passion envied by all. There was no topic I ever found with which she was unfamiliar, though a few were reserved for more intimate company. The social contract was important to her and all who met her were at least a little (more often than not, a lot) better in her company.

I loved her from the moment I saw her and that love has grown well past the moment she left us. My joy in knowing she has finally rejoined her long lost lover knows no bounds, but her absence is felt and more deeply than could be imagined. Now, more than ever, the world needs more Jacquelines, not less. I only hope that those of us lucky enough to have known her and to have been loved by her can give some of that love and beauty back to the rest of the world.

Ma chère Jacqueline, tu sais ce qui est dans mon coeur. Nous l’avons partagé souvent. La reste est que les mots et la vie. À bientôt.

Almost Land

In the okefenokee, it is universally accepted, that from death comes the basis for new life. As the vegetation (as well as animal and mineral…

Self arrest (from a dream)

A brief aside before we start:  Last night, it was Adam Levine; front and center and completely unlike his public persona.  That man is literally everywhere…

Understanding the state of film making

Screenwriting for Dummies

It is true that a picture can be worth a thousand words, but when it comes to film making, we must remember that behind those thousands upon thousands of pictures strung together to make us believe they are moving, there lies the very real art of writing the screenplay that drives the action we so eagerly seek out in our spare time.

This explains so much.

-J.L. Munn.

Does Length Matter?

In the world of writing, there are a number of frequently asked questions and at the top we always find:   “How long does my…

Anyone can write…but few write well

There is a popular mis-conception floating around the universe that writing is easy, in all its incarnations. There is also a sister belief that written…