Another day my friends! There is nothing better than a cup of coffee in the morning and my blood pressure at 175/84....I know!! I appreciate your reading my blogs. I do try to bring a mixture of fun, honesty, talent (I hope humbly) and depth. Our journey: Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers has only just begun. Though in about 2 hours I will witness the decimation of generations of family efforts. Even with this reality--not tv reality, real human tragedy reality--I find "wordplay" to be a closest friend in the journey from this point.
I post my writing in different locations because I write in different genres. I post my writing on Smashwords.com. There you will find a play, a book of poetry and my non-fiction historical narrative regarding Multicultural Theater in Los Angeles During the Early 1990s which is a 50,000 word opus! I have many works written, just waiting. No longer, no not any longer. I also write romance travel reviews. Romance travel reviews? Yes, my wife of 34 years and I travel. We don't have money...well not anymore since The Great Depression II hit in 2008. But we do manage to find great ways to spend time together when we are not 3000 miles apart. We love to take picnic baskets and wine and our camera and good music playing and slow down life to laugh, smile, hold hands and remember why we fell in love at 16 in 1978. I invite you to read those on TripAdvisor.com under my name RobinP. I will blog them here over the next few days. I hope you like them because I enjoy sharing ways for couples to enjoy themselves in easy fun inexpensive manner, but I mostly enjoy expressing how I feel about my "Conejolita." She has put up with me, my travelling.....she has a forgiving heart indeed.
So, as I "heal" and find the road to Regeneration and Transformation I choose to word my way forthwith.
Enjoy--I will.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
The Inn Outside The World
Dear Friends please enjoy this Science Fiction Piece I shot as Director a few years back. I think it is apropos for today's issues with Nuclear War.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Resilience: Regeneration and Tranformation for Dreamers
Cozy I lay in my comfortable bed. The morning coaxing consciousness. Cranium crowded with cobwebs of crimson creepy dreams of Community Cash Co-optors hawking their Commercial Loan-- their cronies crooning contemptuously out cacophonous crud upon their unsuspecting Cape Cod casualties.
Can it be that carnage such as this will see no conclusion? Craving the countdown. Come now. Accepting. Confident in the power of the circle.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Can it be that carnage such as this will see no conclusion? Craving the countdown. Come now. Accepting. Confident in the power of the circle.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Bridges To Cross: A Civil Rights Journey
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now availble.
Victory: Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers
This last week I have pondered. I noticed the stars in the dark clear night sky. I was transported to a time in the past when friends would wander to silent places to lay gazing above excitingly bantering about the future which seemed as open as the universe splayed before us. I wanted to write. It felt right. But I came inside and slid into the warmth of my electric blanket, gathered up my laptop and drifted off to sleep with Toshiba buzzing at my side. I love my electric blanket. My daughter's gave it to me for a Christmas present this year. They understood the gap created by my Los Angeles sensibilities intersecting with New England winters. The next day, I had another moment and then again the next day. Each time I fought against sitting down and working out the words, coaxing the phrase, pulling the focus to create. So the surging inspiration was thwarted by my inability to recognize the import of these "instincts."
I battle in my writer moments with expressing the multiplicitous plot points scripted in the macabre-- encapsulating my pulse. Filled with scenes I so desire to live out. The disappointment made greater realizing the brevity of the incarnations sent in slumber is all that is to satisfy the insatiable desire to act out.
When inevitability meets faith...I meet you again, my sworn enemy. I will not succumb to your darkness even as you swallow me whole. I stand firmly entrenched in the belief that after, after your gluttonous devouring of all that was never yours, I will stand victorious.
Today is the 24rd. 13 1/2 days and...
Put this in our bag of tricks: Victory does not come without sacrifice.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
I battle in my writer moments with expressing the multiplicitous plot points scripted in the macabre-- encapsulating my pulse. Filled with scenes I so desire to live out. The disappointment made greater realizing the brevity of the incarnations sent in slumber is all that is to satisfy the insatiable desire to act out.
When inevitability meets faith...I meet you again, my sworn enemy. I will not succumb to your darkness even as you swallow me whole. I stand firmly entrenched in the belief that after, after your gluttonous devouring of all that was never yours, I will stand victorious.
Today is the 24rd. 13 1/2 days and...
Put this in our bag of tricks: Victory does not come without sacrifice.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Time to Quit? Regeneration and Transformation For Dreamers
When do you know it is time to quit? How do you determine whether something is an obstacle--or a death Nell? When you set upon a task...that is laced with passion, when you so commit and believe in what you are about to journey forth--when your whole life seems to have purposed for this singular mission--and you don't just believe it or think it or know it, but you actually set forth and do it. Sacrifice whatever it takes to fulfill this vision that has besieged you, called you siren-like.
Relinquished, defeated, decimated and destroyed...are you #$%^# kidding me! HOW! To lose is to accept less than in myself.
Jump lightly, not me. Calculated. Planned and considered perspective divined from all angles again and again, as a play on a stage, rehearsed.
Failure leads to questioning...next time? Due diligence divine: will I detect the detonated damage laying wait within my future adventures?
I speak of the "bag of tricks" that we must collect to survive this Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers...do dreamers ever quit?
God forbid, then what is left
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Relinquished, defeated, decimated and destroyed...are you #$%^# kidding me! HOW! To lose is to accept less than in myself.
Jump lightly, not me. Calculated. Planned and considered perspective divined from all angles again and again, as a play on a stage, rehearsed.
Failure leads to questioning...next time? Due diligence divine: will I detect the detonated damage laying wait within my future adventures?
I speak of the "bag of tricks" that we must collect to survive this Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers...do dreamers ever quit?
God forbid, then what is left
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Tomorrow: Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers
by Robin Scott Peters
Tomorrow--has taken a few days to get here. This last week I have sat in front of my post's empty "text box" waiting for the words to come. Nothing. The egg was not quite ready. It wasn't because I didn't have the words to say. It was because I have too many.
I want to tell you what these "vampires" have done. But I have been counseled by my legal team to be extremely careful on what I say. It could get me into trouble. So when I say "vampires" I don't say it in a pejorative manner at all! I mean who doesn't love vampires?
Friday, February 3, 2012
29 1/2 Days: Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers
Yesterday I blogged about Joan Rivers. About her "No Fear" attitude. It's something we must include in our RTD (Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers) bag of tricks. I was preparing to blog about the next RTD component when my mom called me this morning. My mom is a gregarious woman. She is in her mid-seventies (I am sure she won't mind me saying it that way) and she and I have been business partners since 1988--when I moved back home with my pregnant wife and three little kids, because I realized I needed a college education to provide for my brood.
The peach doesn't fall far from the tree...(I know, but my mom is more of a peach than an apple). Elizabeth, my mom, gets most of her personality from her mother, my grandmother, Delinda. Now, let me tell you about this woman WoW what a handful. Delinda was born in 1918. And she was a "Depression Child." Anyone who knows a person who lived through the first Depression during the 1930s (I believe we are living in the second, greater Depression now) knows that they are, how can I say it, hmmm. Frugal, yes. Frugal. Very, very frugal. And this colored everything my Grandmother did in her life. Including her ability to break rules and live life and have no fear. She would set her mind to something, and it got done. She DREAMED BIG and she accomplished bigger!
She told me two stories just prior to her death, that strengthen me so. The first was that during WWII she drove trucks. As many of you know, men were fighting and women were picking up the slack in the U.S. by performing jobs that only men were doing prior to the war. The second story, and what leads us to this very blog moment was how she purchased her first piece of land in Falmouth, Cape Cod. Her husband was away at war, in the Pacific. She working in the U.S. She found a piece of land that was in foreclosure which she wanted to buy but was unable to because she was a married woman. During that time, a married women could not purchase property without the signature of her husband. That was impossible. So, my grandmother being the quick-thinker that she was, got her brother to sign the purchase agreement--as her husband. Love that Ma! (that's what we called her Ma' Labeet). The first parcel she bought was small just a few acres. But over the next three decades she continued to buy property around the first parcel until she had amassed 12 acres. No small feat. 12 acres of prime real estate in Cape Cod. Good job Ma!
Back to peaches. If, my mom is a peach, well the image works well for me too. So, ipso facto, I am a peach. So, these three peaches, Delinda, Elizabeth and me (Robin) had many commonalities. My grandmother bought land and homes and made her "fortune." My mother did the same. And I followed suit. Three generations striving to capture the "American Dream." Swallowing fully the axiom of American Entrepreneurship. And in 2004 the convergence of three generations of hard work and sacrifice came together to test the metal of that American axiom on America's finest day: July 4.
I was in Falmouth assisting my mother after the death of my father, Ernest. A soft hearted man, with the most beautiful hazel eyes. I know why my mother fell for him. Handsome in his Army uniform for sure. We were picnicking at my grandmothers. Like we had done many years earlier. I was giddy--truly--as I hadn't been back on the Cape for almost 20 years. The BBQ was a blast and lasted well into the early morning hours. We sat in my grandmother's living room. Pictures on the wall that had been there from my earliest youth. Her home was like a museum, everything the same. I was in the 1960s again! Sipping wine, my grandmother left the room and returned with a bag. In it she retrieved these colorful pamphlets, they looked brand new. Until you read them. They were new home brochures...from the 1950s!!? I asked, "why?" Ma' Labeet said, "I always wanted to build a community here on my land. That's why." "Well, why didn't you?" She said, "Your grandfather was too afraid." There is that word again, Fear.
By the time the sun rose on July 5, 2004 the three fearless 'peaches' had reached an agreement to turn the 12 acres and 50 years of patience into a place where families could sink deep roots for generations. Just as my grandmother and grandfather had done for us. It was a great plan. My grandmother would sell the land to our newly created company. She gave us a deal--$1,000,000.00 for the land. In turn my mother and I would match Delinda's investment with cash to cover the hard and soft costs of construction--approximately the same amouth as Delinda's investment. In the decades and decades that my grandmother, mother and I have done business in real estate we never brokered a deal where we lost our investment capital. Until now. Until a bank, from the community, stole it from us.
I have to stop here. Because here is where the fear is. Here is where the Dreams of the Dreamers are being crushed. Here is were regeneration and transformation was perverted, forced by deceit; a meatgrinder of lives--past, present and future mangled. Here is where three generations of a family teeter on disaster from blood suckers in gray suits with dead 'fish' eyes. 29 1/2 days from today. Before I finish this tale, I have to decide can I voice the fear. I know I must -- to have victory. Take it from its muffled screams and pepper this text box with its darkness.
Tomorrow.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
The peach doesn't fall far from the tree...(I know, but my mom is more of a peach than an apple). Elizabeth, my mom, gets most of her personality from her mother, my grandmother, Delinda. Now, let me tell you about this woman WoW what a handful. Delinda was born in 1918. And she was a "Depression Child." Anyone who knows a person who lived through the first Depression during the 1930s (I believe we are living in the second, greater Depression now) knows that they are, how can I say it, hmmm. Frugal, yes. Frugal. Very, very frugal. And this colored everything my Grandmother did in her life. Including her ability to break rules and live life and have no fear. She would set her mind to something, and it got done. She DREAMED BIG and she accomplished bigger!
She told me two stories just prior to her death, that strengthen me so. The first was that during WWII she drove trucks. As many of you know, men were fighting and women were picking up the slack in the U.S. by performing jobs that only men were doing prior to the war. The second story, and what leads us to this very blog moment was how she purchased her first piece of land in Falmouth, Cape Cod. Her husband was away at war, in the Pacific. She working in the U.S. She found a piece of land that was in foreclosure which she wanted to buy but was unable to because she was a married woman. During that time, a married women could not purchase property without the signature of her husband. That was impossible. So, my grandmother being the quick-thinker that she was, got her brother to sign the purchase agreement--as her husband. Love that Ma! (that's what we called her Ma' Labeet). The first parcel she bought was small just a few acres. But over the next three decades she continued to buy property around the first parcel until she had amassed 12 acres. No small feat. 12 acres of prime real estate in Cape Cod. Good job Ma!
Back to peaches. If, my mom is a peach, well the image works well for me too. So, ipso facto, I am a peach. So, these three peaches, Delinda, Elizabeth and me (Robin) had many commonalities. My grandmother bought land and homes and made her "fortune." My mother did the same. And I followed suit. Three generations striving to capture the "American Dream." Swallowing fully the axiom of American Entrepreneurship. And in 2004 the convergence of three generations of hard work and sacrifice came together to test the metal of that American axiom on America's finest day: July 4.
I was in Falmouth assisting my mother after the death of my father, Ernest. A soft hearted man, with the most beautiful hazel eyes. I know why my mother fell for him. Handsome in his Army uniform for sure. We were picnicking at my grandmothers. Like we had done many years earlier. I was giddy--truly--as I hadn't been back on the Cape for almost 20 years. The BBQ was a blast and lasted well into the early morning hours. We sat in my grandmother's living room. Pictures on the wall that had been there from my earliest youth. Her home was like a museum, everything the same. I was in the 1960s again! Sipping wine, my grandmother left the room and returned with a bag. In it she retrieved these colorful pamphlets, they looked brand new. Until you read them. They were new home brochures...from the 1950s!!? I asked, "why?" Ma' Labeet said, "I always wanted to build a community here on my land. That's why." "Well, why didn't you?" She said, "Your grandfather was too afraid." There is that word again, Fear.
By the time the sun rose on July 5, 2004 the three fearless 'peaches' had reached an agreement to turn the 12 acres and 50 years of patience into a place where families could sink deep roots for generations. Just as my grandmother and grandfather had done for us. It was a great plan. My grandmother would sell the land to our newly created company. She gave us a deal--$1,000,000.00 for the land. In turn my mother and I would match Delinda's investment with cash to cover the hard and soft costs of construction--approximately the same amouth as Delinda's investment. In the decades and decades that my grandmother, mother and I have done business in real estate we never brokered a deal where we lost our investment capital. Until now. Until a bank, from the community, stole it from us.
I have to stop here. Because here is where the fear is. Here is where the Dreams of the Dreamers are being crushed. Here is were regeneration and transformation was perverted, forced by deceit; a meatgrinder of lives--past, present and future mangled. Here is where three generations of a family teeter on disaster from blood suckers in gray suits with dead 'fish' eyes. 29 1/2 days from today. Before I finish this tale, I have to decide can I voice the fear. I know I must -- to have victory. Take it from its muffled screams and pepper this text box with its darkness.
Tomorrow.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Joan Rivers is the Key?: Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers
I saw Joan Rivers this morning on tv. They were advertising her new show. She was in a car, with a girl friend of hers, smoking medical marijuana....I remember Ms. Rivers when I was a child. She was funny then. I think she still is. Can't she get in trouble? Does she have her medical marijuana card? And why were they doing it in a car? It wasn't moving, so I guess that isn't against the law...somewhere, who knows? You are probably wondering, what the heck does this have to do with Regeneration and Transformation for Dreamers? That would be a good question to ask. I have been asking it all day. I mean , why am I pondering the existence of Joan Rivers' marijuana use. I don't remember her smoking marijuana though, when I was younger that is. Do you? For some reason it hit me as being a bit odd--even for Joan Rivers. So all day as I wrote my book, and applied for a few jobs, this vision of Joan hitting the ganja has infiltrated my thoughts. Typing, typing, typing and then all of a sudden I am finding myself contemplating Joan Rivers. I had another topic I was going to write about today, but for whatever reason Joan kept poking at me. And I think I know why now.
If there is one thing a person could say about Joan Rivers is that she never gave a damn about what other people thought about her. At least thats the way I have seen her. All her crazy comedy. Crazy life. She was the "what the Hell" girl. If I could ask Joan a question (and if anyone out there reading this knows Joan--please ask her) has Joan's whatever attittude ever failed her? I would love to hear a story from Joan about how she bombed. Whether on stage or in film or tv, I need to know Joan. Have you bombed? I mean, really stunk up the placed bombed? The--I have to go hide until the next lunar eclipse, type of bomb? Okay, now you must be really confused. Let me put it all together for you in the next paragraph.
Joan smoked weed. On tv. In a car. I am thinking that is a bit risky. Do you agree? Yet she did it. Pushed the proverbial "envelope" again. Was she scared? Did she worry what people would think? Worse, what they would do? I am sure she did. And if not, one of her Posse certainly must have voiced a small concern. Yet, somewhere in Joan's soul she said...ahh, &^%&$ I am going for the laugh. Get the big thrill. Joan is "throwing down!" Now some of you may see her act as childish, or illegal or stupid and inconsequential. And there is good logic to support your argument. But, what Joan did is something that needs to go into the bag of tricks I am collecting to assist in the Regeneration and Transformation. Standup comedy, arguably, has to be the most difficult of the performing arts. The immediacy and intensity of failure is immense. Not for Joan. I wonder if there should be an eleventh commandment "Though Shall Not Fear Failure!"
If anyone knows a gravestone engraver contact me. I need something scratched on my tablets to put in my bag of tricks.
If there is one thing a person could say about Joan Rivers is that she never gave a damn about what other people thought about her. At least thats the way I have seen her. All her crazy comedy. Crazy life. She was the "what the Hell" girl. If I could ask Joan a question (and if anyone out there reading this knows Joan--please ask her) has Joan's whatever attittude ever failed her? I would love to hear a story from Joan about how she bombed. Whether on stage or in film or tv, I need to know Joan. Have you bombed? I mean, really stunk up the placed bombed? The--I have to go hide until the next lunar eclipse, type of bomb? Okay, now you must be really confused. Let me put it all together for you in the next paragraph.
Joan smoked weed. On tv. In a car. I am thinking that is a bit risky. Do you agree? Yet she did it. Pushed the proverbial "envelope" again. Was she scared? Did she worry what people would think? Worse, what they would do? I am sure she did. And if not, one of her Posse certainly must have voiced a small concern. Yet, somewhere in Joan's soul she said...ahh, &^%&$ I am going for the laugh. Get the big thrill. Joan is "throwing down!" Now some of you may see her act as childish, or illegal or stupid and inconsequential. And there is good logic to support your argument. But, what Joan did is something that needs to go into the bag of tricks I am collecting to assist in the Regeneration and Transformation. Standup comedy, arguably, has to be the most difficult of the performing arts. The immediacy and intensity of failure is immense. Not for Joan. I wonder if there should be an eleventh commandment "Though Shall Not Fear Failure!"
If anyone knows a gravestone engraver contact me. I need something scratched on my tablets to put in my bag of tricks.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
First and Foremost: Regeneration/Transformation for Dreamers
Did you see the sky last night? Stars everywhere. Pin pricks in the open blue vastness. These beams of light. I see them these shafts streaming downward upon me. Last night, for a brief moment, I looked up. And the spread of possibilities, lay before liquid eyes. I could be that star, or that one. Or the toe nail moon that stole the show amongst the cacophony of his competitors shining brightly, hovering vibrating above me. One would think at that moment insignificance would rage, over take the senses and quivering mass melting in to the ground leaving a shadow-puddle capturing the image of you, what use to be you. Rather, I was bathed. The stars above companion's with midnight blue -- accepted me. Like electric blankets used on a cold New England winter night, I dipped my toes into the warmth--A mothers hug, a long-waited reunion, the safety of honest love.
It was brief. But I captured it. Sent from the inverse of the galaxies. It was brief. But I captured it. You know it, I won't speak it.
Put it in the bag of tricks.
It was brief. But I captured it. Sent from the inverse of the galaxies. It was brief. But I captured it. You know it, I won't speak it.
Put it in the bag of tricks.
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