Subtle Part of the Forest

/ boz bozeman / 5 Comments 
In his story,
My student wrote:
“our parents decided to move to a more suttle part of the forest.”

Yes, he misspelled the word. 
And he was misusing it even if he spelled it right.

But I'm not taking points off.

Because now I want to move
To a more subtle part of the forest.
 
A place off the path,
But just off the path,
A place that everyone passes 
But not everyone sees.

A clearing bounded 
by pine needles and leaves.
Within, giving loamy earth.
The air
is the mingling scents of green. 

Sun light rays down 
Defining trees
Giving them their shadows.
Forest dust shapes the sun shafts
that shooting-star bugs plunge through.

Walking around without glasses

/ boz bozeman / Leave a comment

Every once in a while I would ask my wife to look at something, and she’d say “Wait, let me get my glasses.” After a while I realized she frequently walked around without contacts or glasses. I would always question her, not understanding why she would want to walk around “blind”.

Then, one day, I found myself doing it. And you know what: I liked it. My eyes felt relaxed, and I wasn’t straining to see anything. After all, the blurry world is my actual world.

Now my only problem is I’ve started leaving my glasses in random places around my house. If you see them, please let me know where they are.

DIY Dad

/ boz bozeman / Leave a comment

I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot lately. One thought is how I wish I’d paid more attention when he was doing DIY home improvement when I was young.

It wasn’t totally my fault. My older brothers showed no interest in hands on activity, and I think by the time I came around Dad assumed I would also not care. Also, he tended to get really frustrated when he was doing work, so it wasn’t the best time to be around him.

When I bought my own house, I had a lot to learn. My dad helped, but he couldn’t be there for everything. I learned a lot on my own, and eventually got pretty good. Dad would look at my work and be very complimentary, which made me very proud.

Before he passed, and I was visiting the house, I would inspect his work. It turns out that his work was kind of slapdash, similar to my first few projects. Over time my efforts looked increasingly professional. It was strange to feel superior to him about this, but I did.

As I was reflecting on this yesterday, it struck me that I have become something I never thought I’d be: a kind of perfectionist. I have to qualify that a little, because my aesthetic allows me to cut corners and make mistakes into design choices. Still, if you told me fifteen years ago that I would be capable of producing the kinds of designs that I have made, I would have been pretty impressed with myself.

Sport Dreams

/ boz bozeman / Leave a comment

I love being a sports fan. I am not a fair-weather fan, or one who only roots for the best teams. I willingly suffer the lows that comes with loving a team, and exult in the highs that come from winning big games and championships.

Being a USA men’s soccer fan certainly comes with lows, and occasional highs. Will I ever get to experience the highest of highs, a World Cup trophy as the best nation in the world? I know that chances are slim, but I’ll keep dreaming.

Dream is what I did before the US fell to Netherlands last weekend. Instead of dwelling in the likelihoods that we would lose, I allowed myself to dream of triumph, of glory. Sports dreams are fun, and harmless. For a time before reality sets in, a fan gets to pretend, to experience an imaginary goal, a fantasy win, and feel good.

I am a dreamer. I often feel these things in regards to my personal dreams, but that’s different: making dreams come true takes work. Sports dreams are nice because, in the end, there is nothing I can do but watch, hope, and keep dreaming.