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Dreams laze across summer sunbeams. 
Flickers of dust briefly present 
Then lost upon life’s currents; 
Gentle summer breeze. 

I realize my need to tame this data maelstrom. Newsletters, Facebook groups, Twitter feeds…I have volunteered myself for more information than can possibly be processed. This only serves as distraction. It’s so easy to lose focus, lose hours to chasing rabbits down those rabbit holes.

This robs my productivity, which is what I value most. So, I seek to calm this. Unsubscribing from newsletters, unlocking Facebook fan-pages, little things that actually feel very hard.

I want that connection; connection with the globe, with community. What I’ve done, though, is illusion. There’s no community gained by absorbing details of events beyond my influence.

Instead, focus upon my area of influence; on being effective. Have impact, make good things happen.

I remember reading an article, years ago, about how one should never trust their gut. They cited the presence of serial killers like Ted Bundy and how smoothly they talked and acted. This made me laugh. Bundy, et al, had no logical reason not to trust them. Even if we had today’s tools, we wouldn’t find anything terribly remiss in their background. Those people who weren’t taken in were following their gut. 
Perhaps there’s some confusion about gut following. This isn’t just mindlessness; deliberately slowing down and thinking. It’s deeper, though, than simply analyzing facts. But it’s more than airy fairy mindless trust. 
Learning to listen to that inner guide takes time and deliberate training. Often, that voice gets drowned out by the din of modern life. Much to our detriment. 

I’ve been wading thru massive amounts of email for far too long. Time for action! Now, as a geek with several domains, it was easy to create a special email for all my news and newsletters. As I’m going through and porting them all over, I’m seeing how many of these aren’t relevant any more. I’m an information junkie. But is really time to draw back. I’m digging thru tons of news searching for stuff I need to attend to. Silly.

There’s a misconception that’s bit one of my current transactions, and many others: “once I have an accepted offer, the house is mine”. In a real estate transaction, ownership changes when “numbers are recorded” at the county office. When the deed for the property is filed at the county office, that transaction is given a unique identification number. Only then is that property yours (if you’re the buyer. As a seller, it’s still your responsibility until that happens).

Not understanding this can cause headaches for both buyer and seller. Seen it first hand, and, after consulting with colleagues, heard many horror stories.

Your Thursday thought. Go and do great things.

Yesterday, my family spent our day celebrating Fatherhood with KEXP. The Eighth Annual Father’s Day Kid’s Dance Party was heck-of-a-lotta fun. Big plus ones to EMP for hosting, Pagliacci Pizza for providing dough for pizza tossing, and to the Vicious Puppies Crew for bringing their b-boy chops to the event.

VPC was the main draw for us. I love watching talented artists of all disciplines using their passions. My son struggled the rest of the day to control his dance steps (a bit of a problem in the restaurant for lunch…), so inspiration was partaken.

Soon there will be photos uploaded to the KEXP Flickr Stream. Until then, I have a few shots up on my Flickr page.

Here’s the most popular VPC video on YouTube. Enjoy!

Nighttime moves below my dreams. 
Flowing visions upon clouds. 
Drifting skywards amongst the stars. 
Futures born amidst. 
About fatherhood: 
Hard yet wonderful journey. 
Happy Father’s Day! 
Unlit sky. 
Lower, slightly above the ground,
Trod by us. 
Pale, weak, faux-sun
Claws some mystery 
Back from the night. 

I’m sitting here in Magnuson Park in Seattle. The early afternoon was spent at Serevi Rugby camp.

I remember coming here often as a boy, back when this was the Sandpoint Naval Station. I’m aware of its history as an air station during World War II, evolving into a support station that seemed to focus on the retiree community. It’s nice to see the space now. Seattle has done good work with the space, but there are hints of the history. I can tell the pavement is original. The age shows clearly. Plus, many of the old buildings are still here. Though, most of them are crumbling and just waiting for the wrecking ball.

A piece of Seattle’s history which is a piece of mine.

[Updated: grammatical edits]

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