Home Sweet Home…I Think?

I live in Portland, Maine and for the past 7 years or so, I have claimed every street lamp, cobble stone, and street bum as my own private collection of wonderful things I love about this city. So, it takes a lot for me to stray too far from the city that has given so much to me in the sense of who I have become.


The other day, I walked down to my art studio on the corner of Congress and High street and noticed a different type of energy. It was a passing sense of things leaving the city and it felt cold and uneven with what I’ve been used to feeling in the city. There were several “For Lease” signs in the storefronts, more trash on the streets, and more attitude with the people walking. Also, the noise that once saturated the city with a nice cool vibe was more silent and dismal now, where I felt disconnected and slightly angry at the city’s progression.

The character of the city, if you can call it that, is most likely at a crux in between the old and the new. The more subtle parts of the city are emerging as bold and vivid while perhaps the more noticeable parts of the city are secretly departing. In essence, perhaps I am also departing in some direction from the city while the city itself has remained the same. In either case, maturity on any level sucks and I hate the idea of growing while things around me grow differently or don’t bother growing at all.

Portland, for all she has given me, will always keep me in sync with my loves, priorities, and goals and I pray that this transition I feel in the city will only grow from what we have learned from vice detract from the beauty of a city that has provided so much grounding for some many people.

M.C. Davis

I Want To Be Like Langston

I Want To Be Like Langston

The hills are too far for my reach
and I am desperately seeking a
way to understand his
words, ideas, and fantasies,
since I am here and he is there.
Life stumbles on like drunken soldiers
and I am dashing from your start
to my finish, wondering just how you
did that. I am lying around
and tempting myself into thinking
that you are at the gate
when all along you were
standing in the window
with your little yellow
pad, jotting metaphors
and dangling participles.
I want to be like Langston
because he knew what the soul
craved and he understood
how delicate words are to digested.
I want to be like Langston because
he understands my need for peace
and the trees that guard my gift
surrounding the culture within these bones.

M.C. Davis

Motivation Is For The Birds!

A few days ago, I met with a life coach.

Now, before I get the eyes rolling deep into the back of your head, hear me out. The nature of our meeting was strictly informal and if anything, friendly. There wasn’t even a charge for his services and he never made me feel inclined to pull out the Visa Check card. Truthfully, he was my past professor in graduate school so we’ve had a greater connection on a much different level. We even share the same name…both first and last.

So, we met up and luckily for us, it was a great day to catch up because I was completely rested (lucky for him) and he was extremely sensitive to my “What is the meaning of life?” questions (lucky for me). First, let me start by saying that everyone needs a mentor or someone they can internally relate to for guidance.

How many of us honestly can say that the place that one is in life was obtained in an a solo status? How many can say that what one has accomplished is completely by themselves and for themselves?

Uh, no one I know but then again, who am I?

So, M.D. (the life coach) is that type of guy: very sensitive, extremely active listener, and a great friend to have in your corner. All in all, it was a great meeting and I hope that once I achieve the simple objectives put in place, we can meet again to discuss the next evolution. The best part about speaking with him is in knowing that his struggles in being the man he is today is in part due to the fact that he, at a sudden pace, and at a later stage in his life, found himself wandering. He later told me (in more or less words) that his belief is in the individual to find themselves through themselves because in doing so, the most true and ideal version of who you are will appear.

Simply put: experience more from what you need to do in life because believe it or not, there are many millions of people asking the very same questions.

So, I am reading The Alchemist, written by Paulo Coelho. It’s a fable about following ones dreams and spearheading ones aspirations. From the sound of it already, I am going to be a changed man from this read.

Hey, sure beats reading about Britney and the gang of misfits making all that money in Hollywood!

A Runner’s High

Let me start by saying that 12.75 miles isn’t that far. In fact, most of us could calculate the distance from here to there to be about 12.75 miles. Or, the amount of miles it takes for me to enjoy a nice walk from my house, down the street (a bit) to enjoy some local ice cream and a few hours later, a quick but dainty walk back to the house.

Now, the fun part.

Yesterday, my buddies LaRoyce and Corey–well, actually, his name is Anthony Corey but since he has two first names, we usually have the option to call him either. So, my buddies LaRoyce, Corey, and I are training for the Maine marathon which happens every October, usually within the first week. This year’s start time is on the 7th of October, which will be quite brisk and chilly opposite of our training schedule considering we have been training in the oppressive heat and humidity.

Oh well, I digress.

So, the pace is good and the scenery is amazingly addictive and the runner’s high that one experiences individually is magnified by the bond you have with your buddies running beside you. The connection is indeed something to marvel at only because even where there is not a sound heard except your heartbeat and nature, you are intuitively communicating with one another and the expression, the fluidity of our movements, and the emotional commitment to the sport is felt on so many levels, that you almost forget that you are running at times.

Someone said that your real friends help you move but I say that your real friends help you run faster and faster until you can’t imagine life without running or sitting still.

This is what I have called my runner’s high because in it, one doesn’t feel alone or weary but instead, one feels liberated and full of a keen spirit to go as far as you can without telling anyone where you are heading, even if it’s 12.75 miles.

M.C. Davis

Time Management

On a typical off day–meaning, just a work day with no school, dog-sitting, or loving, I spend time at Panera Bread either studying or preparing for the next day while drinking coffee. It just so happens that today was one of those days where the proverbial schedule didn’t greet me at the front door but instead, my freedom shouted from the tippy-top floor for me to base jump to the bottom.

So, I jumped with open arms like a bird of prey.

However, I just realized that I typically spend more time preparing my setting than I should; in fact, my first 15 minutes at Panera are designed around my place setting instead of getting down to the business at hand. A typical Panera sit down:

A. Find the best seat in the house i.e. the closest outlet (even though my battery lasts for 4 hours, you never know and no regrets right?).

B. Locate who to secretly stare at while pretending to study or browse the net.

C. Find the line to get coffee, make order, then walk feverishly to pick up the order.

D. Come back to my seat, start the laptop, wait…wait…wait…wait…and yes, wait some more (time for more RAM I think)

E. Login into the Panera system, locate homepage, start browsing.

The only dilemma is that from steps A-D, it a good 15 minutes…which needs to shorten dramatically. I’ve wondered who else has this problem where the intentions are great in accomplishing a particular goal but action towards it is the stumbler or the time to prepare yourself for the task is more cumbersome than the actual task.

I think I need a full time life coach.

(Geez…the things people have to endure)