web blue


The  Web and a Spider’s Web are beautiful and deadly all at the same time. Coined by J. L. Montera

Yes I too stepped into the void that is The Web and doing so I learned new terminology and uncovered a world out in the Cloud that is The Web. I learned that each step one takes to build a platform is a crucial step not to be taken lightly. To understand that not knowing is okay at first but this luxury is not permanent and can be fatal. I took advice from the clued-up yet wondered how technology would ultimately impact me as a person. Would I find value added to my hard work or become stunted as to who I was and the products I create?

For example, to trust something called an eBook that actually does not exist until downloaded. Or copyrights with ISBN numbers that float by on the back cover of every river of creativity.

The Web is like a Stage where each name of every actor is present to prove their competence and guarantee their resources are enough for the World’s Stage. The governments of the world are present as well to capture the accolades that are collected in every monetary value.

Social Media on The Web are second-by-second scenes that soar past leaving a void where story telling used to be. There are harsh scripts by bullies of all sorts with the intention to do harm. Those attending the play have no recourse but to believe what the script intended so accept the unacceptable. Or worse, writes a different play that wounds and the plays go on.

The Web that is a Cloud and The Spider Web that sustains a spider are, I imagine, here to stay. So the last line of my play warns: What is beautiful can also be deadly!



In the Serengeti, every year between the wet and dry season, the elephants migrate hundreds of miles at great peril to their younglings and themselves. Yet to not migrate is a death sentence to this Keystone specie. As I write this, the words death sentence catches my thoughts as we watch humankind do the same all across Mother Earth.

My family migrated too, from Brazil and Italy and England and by Wagon Train. Their intention was a better life in America for themselves and those of us yet to be born. In so many ways THEY built the America we were to be raised in and taught us the value of a place called HOME.

Today I’m conflicted about humankind migration because the media of every flavor spins THE STORY in so many ways. So I go back to the voice of those who came before me. Their intention was a better life and education for their children and FREEDOM. Freedom is a word that means free expression so I ask: If one who is not allowed a voice arrives in a place that does, what are the consequences to them and the country they now live in?

How I wished I’d have asked that question of those who came before me. I’ve never known anything else but liberty—Migrate…Integrate…Assimilate…Build!

Like the elephants, humankind will forever migrate. The Serengeti Elephants eat 350 pounds of food a day. If their droppings were not left behind there would be no fertilization for the grasslands to grow and that would change and ultimately destroy the Serengeti and all its inhabitants as we know it today.

Yet again Mother Earth speaks on our behalf…But are we listening?


Let’s start with THE UNIVERSE—surely you must know that I would not attempt to explain the unexplainable! So I went to Wikipedia who descuniverseribes THE IT in these terms:

The Universe is all of time and space and its contents. IT includes planets, stars, galaxies, the contents of intergalactic space from the smallest subatomic particles to all matter and energy. And the size of the whole universe is not known and may be infinite.

Let us next look into THE IT that is eBooks. I know Wikipedia could tell us…but I’ve recently been living in that world—out there where elements spin in a universe of content that for all practical purposes does not exist. That is until a computer key somewhere in Earth’s space and time, clicks.

THE IT that is Print Books is, at first glance, Humankind’s storytelling in every genre created to date and the variety of those yet to be vetted. I could throw in Google Cloud Print but that is a print of a whole different color. The word Print means produce, like matter and energy in the universe, but on a much smaller scale of course.

What follows is a wrapping up of this blog… The Universe, remember, is matter and energy. This tells me that all that has been written and what is writing and what is yet to be written shall remain FOR ALL TIME! So I ask, “What PRINT might that leave on the Universe?”

eBook “How Angels Fly” @ http://amazon.com/author/jlmontera




Each day I wake to a picture of Mother Earth that hangs on a wall across from my bed. Her colors are the shade of Salmon as they fight upstream waters to mate. Her blue shades are those of the oceans that buoy up thoughts of how deep does it go? The russet sands of windswept deserts. The white color is the home of Polar Bear and Penguins and the wonderment of what is beneath the ice flows.

There is another Picture of Mother Earth with the name Global Warming. Since I have not and will not be alive a millennium (1,000 years) I’ve not ventured into this quarrel. Yet, there are a few things I’ve noticed on the matter.

Since Mother Earth is a sort of Globe I would think that all governments would get on board with how to fix this critical dilemma that supposedly intends to obliterate humankind and any and all specie that consider Earth home. I do see wars—for whatever cause—high on lists. I see people wearing masks as winds share their caustic air. I see poverty that stores trash until the rains come and the rivers send it to the oceans. I see immigrants on capsized boats drowning in the seas and wonder how that changes the salt waters of Earth. And I see people with placards who hold responsible one another for The Cause.

Yet, each day that I glance over at my picture of Mother Earth I’m certain of one thing: Until humankind lives up to its name – HUMAN KIND – we the collective will miss treat one another. Then I get curious and wonder: How long will Mother Earth tolerate her errant children before she says ENOUGH!


typewriter_legswtypewriter_sample_img_2A very long time ago I wrote what I considered prose or maybe it was poetry; I’m not very good at identifying genres. Be this as it may, I will share with you (over time) my own genre entitled: Thoughts.

OLD SWEATER: Her aged hands hold knitting needles as if in a fencing duel. Skeins of yarn wend their way out of her basket. Click/click/click… Fabric is woven into a meshwork of color. Her stitches conjoin threads for the creation. A whittled form emerges from her needled skill. Her love is its texture.

BURYING: Street faces serve as sentinels for the funeral procession. Darkly clothed mourners stand in sorrow-laden silence. A warm breeze carries religious rites to my wintery soul. Painful emotions kill my heart as the knife they drew from yours. Your tomb awaits and I throw dirt instead of a blanket over you.


life stories

The humankind mothers of the before times and the mothers in this moment heard their child’s first cry. How each mother answered that wail is still ringing in their ears. On Mother Earth it is expected that each newborn comes with tears to shed for all that each of us will encounter throughout our life. Yet the total tears destined to be shed are equally in the hands of those who are the baby’s caretakers.

Since I am not qualified to speak for the varied mothers in the Animal Kingdom, I will not. But I will add that in my international travels the babies in each pride we encountered are sheltered and violently protected; even at the cost of their parent’s life. And yes, even some spiders who give their own body as food to allow their many babies to survive.

Yes, worldwide health issues silence many a newborn’s first cry. Yes, there are those who try to help yet cannot due to a lack of knowledge, religion, fear of immunizations, corruption, and the silenced voice of women. I am certain you have your own list so I won’t continue.

But in America, so far, we have national and state and county programs and courts of law, and law firms, family counseling, etc. to protect that first cry of a newborn. Yet, the criteria within these well-intentioned agencies cannot and do not hear nor see the babies cry.

“Have You Heard The Babies Cry?” If so, how many total tears are we willing to tolerate on their behalf? First we will hear their whimper and then their scream.

“What Are We Truthfully Killing?…”

quill-1Here are a few that come immediately to mind: One Another; Our Thoughts; Our History; Our Beliefs; Our Humanity; Our Purpose; Our Natural World, and Our Stories.

You may ask me why I even ask such a question that has so many distinctive reasons for but even one entry on my list. I do this because whether we know it or not, we each submit to the ultimate carnage.

elephantI have an example; simple yet so complex. It takes place in the Serengeti; an ecosystem in the geographical region in Africa located north of Tanzania that is 12,000 square miles. I bring you here for the elephants; a Keystone Species to the Serengeti. Keystone is a word that means foundation.

Elephants on the Serengeti eat 350 pounds of food a day. If elephants did not drop their digested foodstuff there would be no fertilization for the grasslands to grow. If that were to happen, it would change and ultimately destroy the Serengeti and all its inhabitants as we know it today.

I conclude from this that all FOUNDATIONS on our Earth matter! So I ask again: “What Are We Truthfully Killing?”  

“What IS The Greater Good?..”

Janet's logo text

The term Greater Good has always fascinated me. Not the term itself, but the intention of those who try to define it; like I am right now.   

The word GREATER means: better, superior and bigger. The word GOOD means: blameless, decent and worthy. Some say IT benefits more people than oneself. IT is also defined as that which is better and more correct. These ideals have BIG SHOES to fill as Mother Earth tries to balance our differences.  

The words “Greater Good” remind me of the buildup to an orchestra’s crescendo; loud and meaningful and intended. After which humankind go their separate ways, lessening the collective meaning of our shared experience.

So what is the Greater Good? That dear readers, is the intention you give to IT.



TRUTH – the word means fact, reality, honesty and loyalty… Words that live inside me as part Janet's logo textof who I was, where I came from, who I loved, why I loved and who I am. Those who came before me set the stage I was to step out on in what is known as LIFE.

But these days I wonder whom to trust with my understanding of Humankind on Mother Earth. The Power Brokers: Governments, Media, Movies, Social Media, Prejudice, Education, Killing Fields etc. all vie for My Voice.  

So, I don’t know if I’m right about this for you, but for me, like when the swollen rivers rise, I head for higher ground; a place where I remember the sound of My Own Voice.   


“A Sense of Place…”

Janet's logo textRecently—watching the evening news—I wondered where is that sense of place I knew so well as a child. The place of family and shelter and protection until that one day at school we were taught how to hide beneath our wooden desks warning The Russians Are Coming! That did not pan out but it did, for the first time, educate me to know that my sense of place had just changed forever.

Also, in those days, we were convinced that, if we chose to, we could dig our way down and find China. Given I was reading a book about China at the time I was more interested in this effort than my two brothers. Their sense of place at the time was building their forts using old wooden boxes and scrap paraphernalia they found as they played all over the neighborhood. Many years later I was fortunate enough to see China: after a very long plane ride. As the drone of the plane flew on I smiled to myself thinking back to the broken wooden spatula my mother encouraged me to use if I was serious about digging my way to another sense of place.

So I ask: On Our Earth Today is there A SENSE OF PLACE anywhere? Anger and frustration and killing fields and lines not to cross and on and on… I need say no more.

So I pose this: If we have forgotten or don’t think about and don’t care about our sense of place then we Humankind are no longer writing the Life Stories of the Individual or Earth itself.

Maybe we should look to Mother Nature’s trees and the animals and the oceans and the land  because they are indeed grounded in A Sense of Place.