A Blog Facelift ...

Let’s face it, I have no doubt spent more time looking at this page over the last four years than any of you, so I needed a change.  Yes, it is all about the content, or the written word, but I would rather listen to a pretty singer with a nice voice, than an ugly one.  Yes, shallow but true.

Newcomers to this space will have been spared the nearly four years of darkness that came before.  The background was black, which I still prefer for viewing pictures, but they have always said that white lettering on a black background is harder on the eyes.  Bloggers new design facilities made the facelift relatively painless, with the hardest part being, the selection and sizing of a picture from my collection, to personalize things a bit.

By way of explanation, the photo is from an area we pass, when venturing into the city of Chiang Rai.  These rock outcroppings are quite lovely to look at, as they jut out of the rice paddies that surround them, but they are also prized as a source of gravel for the construction industry.  In an effort to delay their wholesale destruction, some of them have been turned into religious sites and in some cases, temples built on or near them.  I believe there is a small stupa now, at the base of this mound but at the time of this picture they had only draped holy cloth over parts of it.  That explains the reddish-orange splashes of color that you see, depending on the size of your screen.  I removed or muted the other colors from the photo, so as to blend in with the present theme.

Now for the really hard part, deciding what to do with this space and Mr. VF, himself.  The New Year always gets me thinking about these sorts of things but now there is the added realization that we are approaching a four year anniversary.  This journey began in March of 2007.

Looking back at what I have written in the past, I sometimes wonder what ever possessed me to write those particular words.  Not that I care to take them back, rather I question my own ability to come up with anything as good or better.  As I have mellowed, so the voice of my muse has become muffled and distant.  I strain in a vain effort to listen, and then find myself distracted by other, more worldly things.  I seem more inclined to bask in the decadent, self-indulgence of our simple life, than to write about it.

It is much easier to write when one is angry, lonely, confused or questioning.  Fill your existence with too much comfort, contentment and joy, and the pot goes off the boil.  Just as the love of a good woman tamed the beast within, now the good life has continued the process of making me all soft and mushy.  I see less of a hard edge and wonder who that person in the mirror really is.  Older, rounder, less driven and laid back to the point of being almost horizontal at times.

Oh well time to go off and watch the sunset with the dogs.  I’m watching it inch its ways across the horizon on its northward trek toward summer.  Much the way the ancients did I suppose, marking the furthest reaches of its 50 degree march through the latitudes.