Paul Potts sings Canta Opera

I'll be brief. . .


Watch this video. Incroyable.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=NLF9iEXnBRo

My Copy for a Children's Book

I don't know if you glanced at it or not, but I've removed my book's copy until the copyright office sends me confirmation. I don't want to lose this puppy. And this kitty. My Dad concepted the book's main characters back when Henry, Andrew, and I were sleeping in bunkbeds. (and Sadie wasn't even a speck on the radar). He made up a song to go along.
Go Dog, Go!
I mean . . .
Go Dad, Go!

(if you want to read it, just let me know & I'll read it to you). After you sign a non-disclosure agreement. Just kidding. Kind of.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL---IT IS NOW 7 MINUTES AWAY---AND I'M SO EXCITED THAT I CAN'T SLEEP.

we'll get up and then we'll eat cinnamon rolls and then we'll open presents by the fire and then my cousins will come over and then we'll play and then we'll eat and then we'll play and then . . .

27 years old & still sounding like a 5 year old. somethings never change.

You're the Swimming Pool on an August Day

"Everything" (til i figure out how to post videos on this sucker, here's the link to the video. Watch it. It's worth it. Even if you are skeptical of love. Even if you hate love songs. Basically, even if you are the murder of Love.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=SPUJIbXN0WY&feature=related

You're a falling star, you're the get away car.
You're the line in the sand when I go too far.
You're the swimming pool, on an August day.
And you're the perfect thing to say.

And you play it coy but it's kinda cute.
Ah, when you smile at me you know exactly what you do.
Baby don't pretend that you don't know it's true.
'cause you can see it when I look at you.

[Chorus:]
And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, you make me sing.
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.

You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,
And you light me up, when you ring my bell.
You're a mystery, you're from outer space,
You're every minute of my everyday.

And I can't believe, uh that I'm your man,
And I get to kiss you baby just because I can.
Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,
And you know that's what our love can do.

[Chorus]

So, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
So, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

[Chorus:]
And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, you make me sing.
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.
You're every song, and I sing along.
'Cause you're my everything.
Yeah, yeah

So, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
So, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but this is the one song that gets me everytime. It's the prelude to later thoughts on love (cheesy, Katie). Yet, the older I get, the more I think about L-O-V-E.

More on love . . .

Midnight Meditations

A Character talks about the power of Love.

Walker speaks on behalf of Ivy --- his blind daughter who is about to embark on a quest for medicine through a wood of mysterious danger . . .

Edward Walker: "Let her go. If it ends, it ends. We can move towards hope, that's what's beautiful about this place. We cannot run from heartache. My brother was slain in the towns, the rest of my family died here. Heartache is a part of life, we know that now. Ivy is running toward hope, let her run. If this place is worthy, she'll be successful in her quest."
Mrs. Clack: "How could you have sent her? She is blind."
Edward Walker: "She is more capable than most in this village. And she is led by love. The world moves for love. It kneels before it in awe.

A Singer & Songwriter talks about deception.

"I tell you everybody's in the same mess. We all are. I'll be the first to tell you, I'm a mess. God is dealing with me everyday, everyday telling me how I can be less of a mess. He showed me, 'Look Lauryn, you have a problem, I'm gonna show you how you're causing the problem, and now I want you to be the solution. And that's what all these songs are about: Problem---Cause---and Solution."

"Free your mind, you know."

"We all think that the Gospel is: joining a church building. That's deception. The real Gospel is repent. That means let go of all that crap that's killing you. Life is supposed to be a pleasurable experience not this torment. I realized I was tormenting myself. It wasn't about things that I needed, all these security blankets. The more I acquired, the more I became a prisoner."

"I was measuring myself, trying to compare myself to a standard that wasn't reality. It wasn't the standard at all. It says in scripture that we compare ourselves amongst ourselves. That's not the standard! You already are the standard! What are you trying to fit into a standard for? We were each created to be individual standards. So after all that, I'm just ready to be me."

"We all fit ourselves into the little boxes purposely because of the parts of ourselves that we're unhappy about and we don't love. It's sad--there's this false social doctrine that says, the invincible God with all His expression, who created every single one of us absolutely different, on purpose, wants everybody to fit into the same suit.

I'm like---you know what? That's deception."

~Lauryn Hill

An international justice lawyer talks about the means to end injustice:

"What is the plan to end suffering? We are the plan. Injustice is a particular kind of sin, the abuse of power. It is the taking away of good things God intended for humanity."

"We feel powerless. The most difficult thing for the world to believe about faith is that God is good. However, God asks each of us, What do you have to offer? Remember when I fed the 5,000 with a small boy's lunch? I do miracles out of what you offer me. Offer Him what you have and He will provide the miracle."

The Excitement Over Ballerinas

There are some things in life that bring a smile to your face just thinking about them. Like ballerinas at Christmas. Despite very bad bed-head and snot running down your nose, it's Christmas morning, damn-it! Ballerinas are worth smiling about.

At Mom's request, I've been sifting through archived Morgan/Meinert family photos. If you're disgusted by our photos from years past, I ask that you politely deal with it.

Each photo has a story . . . or each springs a new story to mind.

The excitement over ballerinas. One ballerina, in particular, is the antagonist of a script I concepted two years ago. Have you read Arthur Conan Doyle's "Scandal in Bohemia?" It's one of his lesser known short stories as compared to "Hound of the Weinerhills," which is over-rated.

My concept, a modern, western adaptation was refined by my friend and fellow writer, Anna Curnes. After crediting these two individuals, Doyle and Curnes, I can now talk about Doyle's "The Woman," as my Ballerina without getting sued.

Let me add mood music to my western theme of: Hell hath no fury than a Woman Scorned.

1. Bullet Holes (Dispatch)
2. Take, Take, Take (White Stripes)
3. Blue Veins (Racanteurs)
4. Ballerina (Nat King Cole)
5. A Blossom Fell (Nat King Cole - But I'd sound better if Willie Nelson sang it)
6. Forgotten (Avril Lavigne)
7. Black Tambourine (Beck)
8. Missing (Beck)
9. The Fugitive (Dispatch)
10. Dirt Bag Baby (Wheatus)
11. Young Americans (David Bowie)

Itune them. Then, tune in next time to hear about The Scandal!

Writing Saved me from the Sin & Inconvenience of Violence

The Quote is by Alice Walker

Saturday, I sat on a park bench with my friend, Caroline B. Huddleston. She is a long-standing member of the "Katie Morgan, Very Special Friend Club." She buys me a cup of coffee whenever she returns to the south from NYC.

The caffeine allowed us to talk at an abnormal speed. We sat in HP village, heart of our city, amid ponies, Prada, and fake boobies. (The first two are fair game for us. The third, well, check out http://www.absolutelysafe.com/). When it comes to my life aspirations, I'd rather wear a bracelet that states: BE LIKE SHAKIRA.

"Lucky that my breasts are small, like my mother, so you don't confuse them, with mountains."

Caro had left NYC for 72 hours. She flew from an office that specializes in house, garden, and travel. She told me it has a similitude of Xanadu. She offered a piece of advice. It stuck to the ribs of a starving writer.

Stop writing: 'How Mexicans will win the Alamo back,' The 95 Theses, and my own tales of little house on the prairie. I am in the process of writing all this and more for my own disturbed pleasure. It is time, Caro urged me, to get smart and to start a blog.

Today, 11 o'clock, October 22nd, 2007 I have shared a piece of me. Written down in white.

I will never go hungry again.