I flick through the news channels, through the cartoons, half ass watching whatever sitcoms airing, or passing up mulchy morning soap operas (unless its the middle of a catfight), when I get curious about the ways of the television set. I like the commericials second best.
What I like first is the mixtures of content that I see. So many different things are presented, and hell just are able to be presented electronically, virtually anywhere. I was thinking that I liked that.
Right now I'm jamming along to Billy Joels hit, 'We Didn't Start the Fire'. 40% for creative and now classic musicality (omg it IS a word ) 60% for content. I likes it muchly. Greater even since it notes a lot of this part of the world's free radicals, all those crazy controversies that people have all sorts of reactions to.
Ain't it wonderful?
I think most people have been asked, or wondered when and where they'd best have been born in. I used to love that question, I didn't feel that these times bordered on what I wanted to see of life, where being too smart was considered a social flaw.
"Reinisance period" was the response I'd jut out, hoping to not sound like some cliche coffee house bench warmer. It was a time when Europe was questioning the foundations and the integrations of the church, the government, the culture (and everything that insisted the three were and should be all the same) were questioned, reevaluated. "... but only if I was a man would I be able to enjoy it then, in the way that I would want to observe it."
But not too long ago, walking down a busy road and running my finger through chainlinked fences, it hit me---what if, what if I wasn't born in the wrong time?
Why not here, now? Here is also important.
Society now, look at it and where ours fits in with the rest of the world, or simply (or unsimply) where we correspond into either. i think about the problems of todays world (at least through the scope of this society) The complexity and wide ranges of issues being faced-- excites me. Why?
There's so much to get caught up in, and as such, it's hard to find a dull moment in this countries events. There are a lot of opportunities in this modern world. There's a lot of disbelief these days here, in many things. Ways for ideas to be passed on are being utilized everyday. Todays kids are getting forced on them the larger issues their parents tackled all their lives, but I see so many being forged by such dilemmas. Homeland crimes are getting scary, making us wonder if there is some sort of pitfall in our society? People don't always agree but now have the right to disagree and what dangerous or honorable things they do with that power. Politics are becoming increasingly divided and heated as we try to map out what the core of order and logic is. How about how we are allowed and encouraged to be our own persons, and the pros and cons of that being such a highlight in our culture? How about our accelerated lifestyles and economy that we dwell in?
Life is getting easy to pass by, and it is asking more and more for attention to detail. With the rushed pace that we live in here, with all the various things that demand our attention, it seems like we are moving on to a higher level which asks for more of ourselves. It is a time to rise, not pretend the world is broken and unsuited for us.
"... schism in the soul, schism in the body social, will not be resolved by any scheme of return to the good old days (archaism), or by programs guaranteed to render and ideal projected future (futurism), or even by the most realistic, hardheaded work to weld together again the deteriorating elements. Only birth can conquer death-- the birth, not of the old thing again, but of something new. Within the soul, within the body social, there must be-- if we are to experience long survival-- a continuous "recurrence of birth" (palingenesia) to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death. For it is by means of our own victories, if we are not regenerated, that the work of Nemesis is wrought: doom breaks from the shell of our very virtue. Peace then is a snare; war is a snare; change is a snare; permanence is a snare. Whe our day is come for the victory of death, death closes in; there is nothing we can do, except be crucified-- and resurrected; dismembered totally, and then reborn." -Joseph Campell
No, we didn't start the fire. But we're not just going to fight it, we're going to kindle it, and hopefully be passed through it a few times.
Troubles of today are wide and many. We are imparting from traditional methods of learning and thinking. Society here is becoming very decentralized and I would say getting the opportunity to evolve, instead of revolving around just one source. More and more it seems humanity is not disintegrating because of all this, but widening it's lens on scoping out long hidden truths.
Not any part of it is an easy thing to label, and this is what with I fell in love.
Why am I so taken with right now- Todays beautiful complexity and the ability that today has that has never been had to be able to invite such.
(though english is not my best fit of language, I seem to syntax every sentence without mention of subjective context)
"Just when you think you've got it down
Watch it fly" thank Shawn Colvin's song 'Trouble' for the clippit, helps to explain what I am trying to say. It's getting harder to completely know something nowadays. We can no longer afford to take our definitions for granted or as uneditable. We must be open for evaluting things at all times in our lifes. Now more than ever we are being called to live with our lives, our eyes, our minds, and our hearts open. Wide open and constantly scoping.
-------------------------------------------
And reminding me of all of this, I want to throw in a song I never listened to before. Apology already given to those who are sensitive to profanity, however I feel it was done for creativity's sake, especially the deliberate use of contrasting images in this song, and invitation of contrast and the right to disagree.
Amen-
I'm siphoning gas from the high school bus
Into the tank of my beat-up bug
So I can drive away from the shouting and misery
I drive into the night, to the hill, to the water tower
To lie on my back and drink in the meteor shower
Knowing that many men have lain as i do now
Ptolemy,Copernicus,Carl Jung
Pondering his existence,pondering,
Is God with me now?
And I look to the sky
And I ask these questions
Yes,I feel something I don't understand
Can somebody say Amen?
My life is but a short and precious seed
Like three seasons of life in a leaf on a tree
And when I cascade to the ground I will not be done
I will mingle with the earth and give life
To the roots again
Can somebody say Amen?
And I look to the sky
And I ask these questions
Yes, I feel something I don't understand
Can somebody say Amen?
Amen for the drivers in their garbage trucks
Amen for our mothers,for the lust to fuck
Amen for the child with innocent eyes
Amen for Kevorkian and the right to die
Amen for NASA,The NSA
It's all a front anyway
Amen for Marilyn Manson,Saddam Hussein
Amen for America and the Milky Way.
Amen for Elvis,for Betty Page
Amen for Gloria Steinham and Ronald Reagan
Amen for O.J.,Clinton too
Amen for the Republican witch hunt coup
Amen for Gandhi,for Malcolm X
Amen for the uprising of the weaker sex
Amen for Babylon, the third world's call,
Amen for the unity of us all
Amen,Amen,Amen
And I am not unique.
We are all leave on this great big tree.
this tree that is life,that is God,that is you,that is me
And I lie under my tree like the Buddhas before and after me
And I ask the stars, What for?
Yes, I feel something I can't explain
A light that flickers off and on again
And I look to the sky
And I ask these questions
Yes, I feel something I don't understand
Oh,can somebody say Amen?
-Paula Cole
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Shroud
I had to leave the house of fashion
And go forth naked from its doors
'cause women should be allies
And not competitors
I had to leave the house of god
Because the cross replaced the wheel
And the goddesses were all out in the garden
With the plants that nurture and heal
I had to leave the house of privilege
Spend christmas homeless and feeling bad
To learn privilege is a headache
That you don't know that you don't have
I had to leave the house of television
To start noticing the clouds
It's amazing the stuff you see when
You finally shed that shroud
I had leave the house of conformity
In order to make art
I had to be more and less true
To learn to tell the two apart
I had to leave the house of fear
Just about as soon as I could crawl
Ignore my face on a wanted poster
Stuck to the post office wall
I had leave the house of self-importance
To doodle my first tattoo
To realize a tattoo is no more permanent
Than I am, and who
ever said that life is suffering
I think they had their finger on the pulse of joy
And the power of transcendence
Made its grace a practice we can employ
- Ani DiFranco from "Reprieve" album
And go forth naked from its doors
'cause women should be allies
And not competitors
I had to leave the house of god
Because the cross replaced the wheel
And the goddesses were all out in the garden
With the plants that nurture and heal
I had to leave the house of privilege
Spend christmas homeless and feeling bad
To learn privilege is a headache
That you don't know that you don't have
I had to leave the house of television
To start noticing the clouds
It's amazing the stuff you see when
You finally shed that shroud
I had leave the house of conformity
In order to make art
I had to be more and less true
To learn to tell the two apart
I had to leave the house of fear
Just about as soon as I could crawl
Ignore my face on a wanted poster
Stuck to the post office wall
I had leave the house of self-importance
To doodle my first tattoo
To realize a tattoo is no more permanent
Than I am, and who
ever said that life is suffering
I think they had their finger on the pulse of joy
And the power of transcendence
Made its grace a practice we can employ
- Ani DiFranco from "Reprieve" album
Sunday, October 01, 2006
snow duke
My family and I went up to the mountains today. I overenjoyed myself. We went way way way up where the snow is.
Couldn't help myself, here's my first snowman of the year! Took it on my dad's phone.
:D!
Friday, September 29, 2006
cuckoo?
Firstly, I am listening to Chickenman. The images the title insinuates has little to do with the song. Good stuff but a little experiemental.
I know if a black cat crosses your path, beware, your best luck may not follow or so the superstition goes. Now what do you do if a black CHICKEN crosses your path? What if now, not only a black chicken crosses you, but a white chicken follows like some freaky ying yang shindig? As if this duo isn't weird enough imagine the roaming fowl crossing the road. They were like racing chickens or something, white won.
Now I know that I did hear a chicken the other day when Lindsey and I were hooking up the volleyball net. I heard the neighborhood tykes screaming "GET the CHICKEN, Get him!" "Cabawk Bacaw bacaw bacaaaaaaaaaw! Balk balk baulkcaw!!!" All of them sounded like junior agents for Colonel Sanders. Holy crap.
Derek and Lindsey also go around the house singing and miswording the song 'Malchik gay' as My Chicken.
And then I play zelda and the bird fiends surround me in Hitchcock patterns.
Is this a sign?
I know if a black cat crosses your path, beware, your best luck may not follow or so the superstition goes. Now what do you do if a black CHICKEN crosses your path? What if now, not only a black chicken crosses you, but a white chicken follows like some freaky ying yang shindig? As if this duo isn't weird enough imagine the roaming fowl crossing the road. They were like racing chickens or something, white won.
Now I know that I did hear a chicken the other day when Lindsey and I were hooking up the volleyball net. I heard the neighborhood tykes screaming "GET the CHICKEN, Get him!" "Cabawk Bacaw bacaw bacaaaaaaaaaw! Balk balk baulkcaw!!!" All of them sounded like junior agents for Colonel Sanders. Holy crap.
Derek and Lindsey also go around the house singing and miswording the song 'Malchik gay' as My Chicken.
And then I play zelda and the bird fiends surround me in Hitchcock patterns.
Is this a sign?
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Black Thumb );(
" oh i'm not worried, remember.
it's not about whether or not i think i'm making sense, it's a matter of "is that what i meant to say?". "
Just a little snippet from a convo with my ol pal Katie. Good words to keep in mind.
It's not really advice I think of in daily life, just a few choice situations where i seem to give off a split image of myself.
On another offshoot... I'm far from expectations. I know that already. I won't take any normal earning, nor some frivilous extraordinary title. Theres just less and less to prove.
Yes, Ms. DiFranco, 'everyone is an f*king Napoleon.' Excuse the language but the statement is classic.
I forgot how much I love long bus rides. I love being amongst unknown faces, I peek around at all the expressions people have at their faces. Some grumble down at their watches, others stare out the window. A lot of people are lost in their own heads when they are parked in their blue cushioned bus seats. It's interesting. Sometimes I think I am able to pick out a few hippiesque people like me that could drive if they chose, but are into alternative transportation methods. My brother, Derek, is urging me to make a collection of all the odd people I see on UTA. I sketch people occasionally, usually people who fall asleep in the front. It just tickles him.
On a sidenote I am tearing out my hair trying to reformat my blog. I've already composed a new design for it, but making the images and backgrounds is the easy part. Sheesh. Xanga was very easy to crack with a basic feel for html. Blogger uses xml for its templates which is a bit tricker to overlap, not really knowing what I'm doing.
Oui, the things I think about at night. Night, when there's nothing left to do than just soak in the silence and think. Laughable, private thoughts fill my mind, just like stupid little pennies in a city park fountain. Why did Icarus fly so far, so hard? *laughs* It's not just motor fuel that's overpriced these days. I'm sure Pandora would love to know why we all ask for more than we're ready to get.
Just the things I tell myself these days.
it's not about whether or not i think i'm making sense, it's a matter of "is that what i meant to say?". "
Just a little snippet from a convo with my ol pal Katie. Good words to keep in mind.
It's not really advice I think of in daily life, just a few choice situations where i seem to give off a split image of myself.
On another offshoot... I'm far from expectations. I know that already. I won't take any normal earning, nor some frivilous extraordinary title. Theres just less and less to prove.
Yes, Ms. DiFranco, 'everyone is an f*king Napoleon.' Excuse the language but the statement is classic.
I forgot how much I love long bus rides. I love being amongst unknown faces, I peek around at all the expressions people have at their faces. Some grumble down at their watches, others stare out the window. A lot of people are lost in their own heads when they are parked in their blue cushioned bus seats. It's interesting. Sometimes I think I am able to pick out a few hippiesque people like me that could drive if they chose, but are into alternative transportation methods. My brother, Derek, is urging me to make a collection of all the odd people I see on UTA. I sketch people occasionally, usually people who fall asleep in the front. It just tickles him.
On a sidenote I am tearing out my hair trying to reformat my blog. I've already composed a new design for it, but making the images and backgrounds is the easy part. Sheesh. Xanga was very easy to crack with a basic feel for html. Blogger uses xml for its templates which is a bit tricker to overlap, not really knowing what I'm doing.
Oui, the things I think about at night. Night, when there's nothing left to do than just soak in the silence and think. Laughable, private thoughts fill my mind, just like stupid little pennies in a city park fountain. Why did Icarus fly so far, so hard? *laughs* It's not just motor fuel that's overpriced these days. I'm sure Pandora would love to know why we all ask for more than we're ready to get.
Just the things I tell myself these days.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
New Favourite
This is such a beautiful song... Even better when heard.
Everything in it's own Time
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home
all around the table the white haired men have gathered
spilling their sons' blood like table wine
remember everything i told you
everything in its own time
the music whispers you in urgency
hold fast to that languageless connection
a thread of known that was unknown and unseen seen
dangling from inside the fifth direction
boys around the table are mapping out their strategies
kings all of mountains one day dust
a lesson learned a loving god and things in their own time
in nothing more do i trust
we own nothing
nothing is ours
not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars
but this poverty is our greatest gift
the weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift
remember everything i told you
keep it in your heart like a stone
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home
everything in its own time
everything in its own time
-Indigo Girls
Everything in it's own Time
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home
all around the table the white haired men have gathered
spilling their sons' blood like table wine
remember everything i told you
everything in its own time
the music whispers you in urgency
hold fast to that languageless connection
a thread of known that was unknown and unseen seen
dangling from inside the fifth direction
boys around the table are mapping out their strategies
kings all of mountains one day dust
a lesson learned a loving god and things in their own time
in nothing more do i trust
we own nothing
nothing is ours
not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars
but this poverty is our greatest gift
the weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift
remember everything i told you
keep it in your heart like a stone
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home
everything in its own time
everything in its own time
-Indigo Girls
lolli sculptures
So okay there were a lot of dum dum suckers floating around the house. (No really like floating like the fuzzy sparkles in the Kokiri Forest) When I opened it I was like -- odd! Whooah -you look like a turtle! Look at it!!! It's even fluked being a real dum dum. Drooping and bent, I mean wow, maybe it's just a big frown.
Okay my brain, is dying. That usually means its just asking for a smidgeon of sleep. If not I'd be so posting about my awesome cool day. Sorry its late but soo everything is amusing.XD. Alas. Tiredness, I have a strict bedtime of 2 am.
Friday, September 22, 2006
"You looked better on myspace"
Whha---
Is Sarah McLachlan releasing a new album? I thought she was done, wanted to raise her kid and all. It will be an album of Christmas carols, so like for the first time in all of history we'll be able to hear every track on a newly released album on the radio within its release month. Cool though, though I am not an active seeker of Christmas music.
Let's tackle Halloween first! I WANNA MAKE A JACKOLANTERN!!!!!!
The title is from a tee shirt which I find amusing. ※
I think my big thing against myspace is it is completely engineered around the teenaged mind. All the commercial ads cluttered among the margins, gimmie a break. There is such a large emphasis on user photos, and advertising the photo and preferences to the point where it seems more and more like some online dating hotspot than a blogging community. Half the pictures of the girls on my space are ones where they try to look at the camera as with as sexy a look as they can come up.
It completely caiters to the teenage mind, where what mostly matters is the bands you like, the people you hang with, favorite color, pet peeves etc is splattered all over your front user page. Such things are common in profiles, but then again profiles will cover a little more than that, or a little less, the difference is in the coverage of the interests.
Interests are key elements to illustrating a profile, but when pictures of those interests such as sports team emblems, banners for television shows and movies, not album work but portraits of favorite bands COMPLETELY take over the page with JPEG space with little text at all? It's overcrowded with all these glorified media influences that say little about who the person is (except for music) and it all quickly becomes cliche. It completely enshrines these media influences, and favorites and piss offs making everything so overblown. Sheesh. Not to mention paying homage to the teen mindset of clan associations, who I am hanging round with these days (cause company *hem* groups, say(s) so much about a person, whatever) a pretty sizeable corner to keep all your friends on your list in.
Elements of a my space profile
1- Personal Photo. This is big stuff. Smile big, you never know who is checking you out.
2- third party Interests and commercial Interests consuming your page. these things rock, "johnny dep is the best ever and I love abercrombie and fitch"
3- Extensive photos and images to represent Interests (instead of words God forbid we ever use them to explain why we are drawn to what we are drawn to)
4- Ads for teen appealing media, and merchandise - tv Shows, music, ex" Jackass epidsodes, name brands etc.
5- League of Friends- Always always always reserve a little shrine to say hey these peeps are kewl and they think I'm kewl so yeah.
Leave the rest of the page for your turn ons.
I will agree that this is a reliable channel for communication purposes. While I have met some who have used it purely for open discussion, it seems more and more like a chaotic mosh pit where all the little teenie bopper warlords have a good yak all about themselves (but more about the thinks they like). ( I HATE YOU I HATE THE BANDS YOU LIKE!!! starts to make sense in this light, no?) I could keep in touch with many a friend via my space if I chose to. I just don't like what myspace attempts to target with its features, and what it is commonly used for. And for all those people hounding me to join it's not all that jazzed up in my eyes.
No no no, I shalt not join.
Is Sarah McLachlan releasing a new album? I thought she was done, wanted to raise her kid and all. It will be an album of Christmas carols, so like for the first time in all of history we'll be able to hear every track on a newly released album on the radio within its release month. Cool though, though I am not an active seeker of Christmas music.
Let's tackle Halloween first! I WANNA MAKE A JACKOLANTERN!!!!!!
The title is from a tee shirt which I find amusing. ※
I think my big thing against myspace is it is completely engineered around the teenaged mind. All the commercial ads cluttered among the margins, gimmie a break. There is such a large emphasis on user photos, and advertising the photo and preferences to the point where it seems more and more like some online dating hotspot than a blogging community. Half the pictures of the girls on my space are ones where they try to look at the camera as with as sexy a look as they can come up.
It completely caiters to the teenage mind, where what mostly matters is the bands you like, the people you hang with, favorite color, pet peeves etc is splattered all over your front user page. Such things are common in profiles, but then again profiles will cover a little more than that, or a little less, the difference is in the coverage of the interests.
Interests are key elements to illustrating a profile, but when pictures of those interests such as sports team emblems, banners for television shows and movies, not album work but portraits of favorite bands COMPLETELY take over the page with JPEG space with little text at all? It's overcrowded with all these glorified media influences that say little about who the person is (except for music) and it all quickly becomes cliche. It completely enshrines these media influences, and favorites and piss offs making everything so overblown. Sheesh. Not to mention paying homage to the teen mindset of clan associations, who I am hanging round with these days (cause company *hem* groups, say(s) so much about a person, whatever) a pretty sizeable corner to keep all your friends on your list in.
Elements of a my space profile
1- Personal Photo. This is big stuff. Smile big, you never know who is checking you out.
2- third party Interests and commercial Interests consuming your page. these things rock, "johnny dep is the best ever and I love abercrombie and fitch"
3- Extensive photos and images to represent Interests (instead of words God forbid we ever use them to explain why we are drawn to what we are drawn to)
4- Ads for teen appealing media, and merchandise - tv Shows, music, ex" Jackass epidsodes, name brands etc.
5- League of Friends- Always always always reserve a little shrine to say hey these peeps are kewl and they think I'm kewl so yeah.
Leave the rest of the page for your turn ons.
I will agree that this is a reliable channel for communication purposes. While I have met some who have used it purely for open discussion, it seems more and more like a chaotic mosh pit where all the little teenie bopper warlords have a good yak all about themselves (but more about the thinks they like). ( I HATE YOU I HATE THE BANDS YOU LIKE!!! starts to make sense in this light, no?) I could keep in touch with many a friend via my space if I chose to. I just don't like what myspace attempts to target with its features, and what it is commonly used for. And for all those people hounding me to join it's not all that jazzed up in my eyes.
No no no, I shalt not join.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
"Time to check your level of responsibility?"
This is a clipping out of the morning paper today. I like to occasionally gut something out of the middle that is everyday life oriented. It's fun.
These are some of the things I HAVEN'T done recently.
1.Returned "Search and Destroy" by Dean Hughes to the library.
2.Responded to e-mails from several good friends, including Linda in Ohio an Patty in Indiana. (I'm sorry you guys! I promise I'll write back!)
3. Made arrangements for a groom's dinner (can you believe it? ANOTHER son is getting married!) , even though the wedding is coming up pretty soon.
4. Paid a bill to my favorite florist, Every Blooming Thing, for flowers I sent in July.
5. Returned a phone call to Glenn at BYU. (Glenn! Dude! My husband wants me to tell you that he really did give e your message. It's not HIS fault that I haven't called back in the last two weeks.)
6. Washed my son's football uniform. (i've just been burning scented candles in his bedroom instead.)
These are some of the things that I HAVE done recently.
1. Found a parking ticket on my windshield because the meter was expired, to which I can only say, OF COURSE THE METER WAS EXPIRED. I never put change in the meter to begin with.
2. Forgot Emma's birthday even though she's pretty much the daughter I never had, which is apparently why God never sent me girls. He knew I'd just forget their birthdays and then they;d be all like "our mother is so lame."
3.Lost the family parrot. After 12 years of doing penguin-esque belly flops off the top of his cage, our African gray finally discovered that his wings work. Yea! That's the good news! The bad news is that he was outside on the deck when he figured things out. The other bad news is that I was the one who left him out there.
Anyway, as you can see, it's been an eventful few weeks in a nonproductive kind of way. In fact, I was sort of startled this morning when I made up these lists, because, actually, I think of myself as a highly responsible person. Hello. My girlfriend Gigi Ballif and I were members of the Color Guard in the sixth grade, which, AS EVERYBODY IN AMERICA KNOWS, they only let highly responsible kinds do. The last thing you wan ti n the Color Guard are a bunch of non-responsible six-graders who don't show up or forget their hats or wear their badges upside down or drop the flag on the ground all day long.
Looking at my lists, however, makes me wonder if it's time to do an update so that self-image matches the reality at hand. Is it possible I'm not responsible any more? Do I need to get a paper route to teach myself some responsibility again?
Is it possible I've turned into that guy who still wears double-knit slacks with a white belt because they looked good on him, and also on Joe Namath, in 1974, and he thinks they look good on him still? (ANSWER : No. I'm not a guy. And I don't have a pair of double-knit slacks.)
All of us occasionally out to do a self-awareness exercise. Do my actions say I am who I think I am? Am I REALLY (fill in the blank)?
It can't hurt, right?
(Unless, of course, you think you're a lost cause.)
(Which you are probably not.)
(Even if the teachers didn't choose YOU to be in the Color Guard in the sixth grade.)
-Ann Cannon
These are some of the things I HAVEN'T done recently.
1.Returned "Search and Destroy" by Dean Hughes to the library.
2.Responded to e-mails from several good friends, including Linda in Ohio an Patty in Indiana. (I'm sorry you guys! I promise I'll write back!)
3. Made arrangements for a groom's dinner (can you believe it? ANOTHER son is getting married!) , even though the wedding is coming up pretty soon.
4. Paid a bill to my favorite florist, Every Blooming Thing, for flowers I sent in July.
5. Returned a phone call to Glenn at BYU. (Glenn! Dude! My husband wants me to tell you that he really did give e your message. It's not HIS fault that I haven't called back in the last two weeks.)
6. Washed my son's football uniform. (i've just been burning scented candles in his bedroom instead.)
These are some of the things that I HAVE done recently.
1. Found a parking ticket on my windshield because the meter was expired, to which I can only say, OF COURSE THE METER WAS EXPIRED. I never put change in the meter to begin with.
2. Forgot Emma's birthday even though she's pretty much the daughter I never had, which is apparently why God never sent me girls. He knew I'd just forget their birthdays and then they;d be all like "our mother is so lame."
3.Lost the family parrot. After 12 years of doing penguin-esque belly flops off the top of his cage, our African gray finally discovered that his wings work. Yea! That's the good news! The bad news is that he was outside on the deck when he figured things out. The other bad news is that I was the one who left him out there.
Anyway, as you can see, it's been an eventful few weeks in a nonproductive kind of way. In fact, I was sort of startled this morning when I made up these lists, because, actually, I think of myself as a highly responsible person. Hello. My girlfriend Gigi Ballif and I were members of the Color Guard in the sixth grade, which, AS EVERYBODY IN AMERICA KNOWS, they only let highly responsible kinds do. The last thing you wan ti n the Color Guard are a bunch of non-responsible six-graders who don't show up or forget their hats or wear their badges upside down or drop the flag on the ground all day long.
Looking at my lists, however, makes me wonder if it's time to do an update so that self-image matches the reality at hand. Is it possible I'm not responsible any more? Do I need to get a paper route to teach myself some responsibility again?
Is it possible I've turned into that guy who still wears double-knit slacks with a white belt because they looked good on him, and also on Joe Namath, in 1974, and he thinks they look good on him still? (ANSWER : No. I'm not a guy. And I don't have a pair of double-knit slacks.)
All of us occasionally out to do a self-awareness exercise. Do my actions say I am who I think I am? Am I REALLY (fill in the blank)?
It can't hurt, right?
(Unless, of course, you think you're a lost cause.)
(Which you are probably not.)
(Even if the teachers didn't choose YOU to be in the Color Guard in the sixth grade.)
-Ann Cannon
Ugly Little Dreams
Frances keep your mouth shut dear
We don't want the neighbors 'round
With their ugly little schemes
That make the pretty world go 'round
And there's a place in it for every one of us
I'll keep the home fires burning
Only don't make a fuss
And if you're not impressed
With the wares life has to show
You can take them or leave them
They choose their own fare who say no
There's some ugly little dreams
For pretty girls to buy
It's enough to make you mad
But it's safer just to break down and cry
It's a battlefield Frances
You fight or concede
Victory to the enemy
Who call your strength insanity
What cahnce for such girls
How can we compete?
In a world that likes its women
Stupid and sweet
I bet you rue the day
The angels gave you your share
Of bright cornflower blue eyes
And golden hair
And there's a lot of ugly little dreams
For pretty girls to buy
It's enough to make you mad
But it's safer just to break down and cry
It's safer just to break down and cry
-Everything but the Girl
------------------
EBTG has been a band I've kept up with over the years. What created the interest was their dynamic sound, investment in many instruments, and the leads powerful vocals. What kept the interest was what the lyrics touched on - ethics and rights within relationships, political commentary, and largely on the human experience.
Looking information up on EBTG, I ran into their focuses on their debut album which was pretty much what I described above.
Ugly little dreams is about those who were shocked and upset by women with too many ideas.
It's about Frances Farmer in particular. That struck interest -- who is she I asked and wikied it. What I found proved interesting... Frances in her youth won a writing contest in 1931, for her religiously controversial essay. Later when she was attending university won over another writing contest for a leftist newpaper. (which was probably moderate compared to these days) this won her a trip to go visit the Soviet Union which her family fiercely objected to.
Frances began an acting career in the big screen pictures. She was very unhappy with her career as she was only given 'pretty girl' and damsel like roles, instead of ones where she could find a creative niche with her talents. It was a time when movie studios were very controlling of their actors and actresses lives. As a result she clashed a lot with the buecracy within Paramount Studios refusing to mold.
I can't continue to depict her as a struggling artist and put her up as a complete martyr of her times. The trouble she got in later was of her own accord, as she developed heavy drinking problems. Her little incident with the police was interesting though during war time when all lights were ordered for a black out period. She went rebeliously driving down the road with her brights on. Then there is breaking her make up artists jaw (I would have loved to have been present) . Yet her contrary views led "proffessionals" to diagnose her with bipolar disorder, for her seeking things outside of accepted culture.
I do like her story though and it winds down to a comment by Ray Bradbury. "a man runs when he sees anything of a mind in a woman." (rough quote, I have handicapped quoting skills as I am sure one of you can verify in other situations) Thankfully this quote doesn't ring so true anymore, almost minus certain communities where women are ordained to be baby cranking factories. Yet it did bring a smile to my face, it does sometimes touch home minus the gender references and added in particular family references.
"I bet you rue the day
The angels gave you your share
Of bright cornflower blue eyes
And golden hair"
is a very interesting couple of lines from the song, I think. It has something to say on what is expected of women when it comes to men and the crowds for that matter.
I've had many a friend who felt overwhelmed by trying to gain attentions of the opposite gender. Many friends who felt that her worth was contingent on her ability to be attractive, and to be worthwhile. To be charming and sucumbing to prevalent demands for a girl to be entertaining. Well dammit those things aren't just about being pleased or entertaining. I've seen too many girls who don't find enough esteem in themselves and become dependent on whatever kind of security a relation with a guy can give her. Though it's not just ungrounded and self insecured girls that cling to this.
However I feel the opposite is true. I feel there is an underculture of women who are obsessed with glamour, power and manipulation over partners. Yet they still cling to the demand to be a particular genre of charming and entertaining outside of standard (by standard I mean common things like courting flirting and means to relations and such, what I mean is the whole charming thing is getting overblown.)
Bottom line: we shouldn't be expected to be any more diplomatically and dynamically charming than what is natural, than what men are (not to say that men and the stake of natural are directly synonymous or opposing). It's not duty to be pretty attractive alpha vixens contrary to what pop culture is trying to tell us all. I'd love to see pop culture grow in insight for once...
And I could go on about how the teen to adult road is practically non existent and how we still have 37 year old men and women who are paranoid about their upkeep on trendiness, acting and wishing they could be as hip as they were when they were 18. Hey what about other things of worth? We just generating lifelong super hormone charged teenagers nowadays?
How cute. . .
Even in these modern times excessive prerequisites for a woman to even be considered as attractive are too heavy. Sorry we're not all about acting pretty, and believe me what a sad act it is. Sorry to say there is something more between the lines there. I realized a sad truth when joking around with my younger brother. "Derek, this is sooo sad, you could have a guy be really ugly, obese, or freakishly skinny, who is the funniest and fun person ever and he could get a lot of dates. But if you turn it around and it's a heavy girl, or a not so cute faced kind of girl and she's left with slim pickins. if not dying alone" "yup" and we both laughed.
Yet why is this true?
Watching a television makeover show I was taken aback by a couple. There was a well built man with what most women would claim as being handsome faced and a mousy faced bushy haired girl who wasn't very easy on the eyes as some would say. It was very odd to see this couple hand in hand. I was a little confused by the fact that I was confused. Yet it's not nearly that startling when you see a girl go with a guy that is far far from being the next runner up for male model of the year. I couldn't explain the confusion at first, but then I realized more and more that its a sick and unfair part of our culture.
I walked past as my dad was watching Miss Congeniality on t.v. (great movie !) one of the pagent officials stammered on to say "I've been fighting my whole career against people like you, feminists, intellectuals:: Ugly women!" Yes I appreciate the humor but this brings up the point again. They focus less on being pleasing creatures to men. In this case I am referencing ugly as being unattractive in manner or in appearance. This kind of ugly she probably means as women who don't choose to apply cosmetics as a daily routine. I see no immediate problem with makeup as I wear it and wear it for myself only but I really do give a salute to women who don't feel it's a necessity or a requirement. :)
Kudos to Ms. Farmer, especially in a time when it was much much worse and unequal.
Kudos to EBTG composed of two members - one female and one male who support this belief.
We don't want the neighbors 'round
With their ugly little schemes
That make the pretty world go 'round
And there's a place in it for every one of us
I'll keep the home fires burning
Only don't make a fuss
And if you're not impressed
With the wares life has to show
You can take them or leave them
They choose their own fare who say no
There's some ugly little dreams
For pretty girls to buy
It's enough to make you mad
But it's safer just to break down and cry
It's a battlefield Frances
You fight or concede
Victory to the enemy
Who call your strength insanity
What cahnce for such girls
How can we compete?
In a world that likes its women
Stupid and sweet
I bet you rue the day
The angels gave you your share
Of bright cornflower blue eyes
And golden hair
And there's a lot of ugly little dreams
For pretty girls to buy
It's enough to make you mad
But it's safer just to break down and cry
It's safer just to break down and cry
-Everything but the Girl
------------------
EBTG has been a band I've kept up with over the years. What created the interest was their dynamic sound, investment in many instruments, and the leads powerful vocals. What kept the interest was what the lyrics touched on - ethics and rights within relationships, political commentary, and largely on the human experience.
Looking information up on EBTG, I ran into their focuses on their debut album which was pretty much what I described above.
Ugly little dreams is about those who were shocked and upset by women with too many ideas.
It's about Frances Farmer in particular. That struck interest -- who is she I asked and wikied it. What I found proved interesting... Frances in her youth won a writing contest in 1931, for her religiously controversial essay. Later when she was attending university won over another writing contest for a leftist newpaper. (which was probably moderate compared to these days) this won her a trip to go visit the Soviet Union which her family fiercely objected to.
Frances began an acting career in the big screen pictures. She was very unhappy with her career as she was only given 'pretty girl' and damsel like roles, instead of ones where she could find a creative niche with her talents. It was a time when movie studios were very controlling of their actors and actresses lives. As a result she clashed a lot with the buecracy within Paramount Studios refusing to mold.
I can't continue to depict her as a struggling artist and put her up as a complete martyr of her times. The trouble she got in later was of her own accord, as she developed heavy drinking problems. Her little incident with the police was interesting though during war time when all lights were ordered for a black out period. She went rebeliously driving down the road with her brights on. Then there is breaking her make up artists jaw (I would have loved to have been present) . Yet her contrary views led "proffessionals" to diagnose her with bipolar disorder, for her seeking things outside of accepted culture.
I do like her story though and it winds down to a comment by Ray Bradbury. "a man runs when he sees anything of a mind in a woman." (rough quote, I have handicapped quoting skills as I am sure one of you can verify in other situations) Thankfully this quote doesn't ring so true anymore, almost minus certain communities where women are ordained to be baby cranking factories. Yet it did bring a smile to my face, it does sometimes touch home minus the gender references and added in particular family references.
"I bet you rue the day
The angels gave you your share
Of bright cornflower blue eyes
And golden hair"
is a very interesting couple of lines from the song, I think. It has something to say on what is expected of women when it comes to men and the crowds for that matter.
I've had many a friend who felt overwhelmed by trying to gain attentions of the opposite gender. Many friends who felt that her worth was contingent on her ability to be attractive, and to be worthwhile. To be charming and sucumbing to prevalent demands for a girl to be entertaining. Well dammit those things aren't just about being pleased or entertaining. I've seen too many girls who don't find enough esteem in themselves and become dependent on whatever kind of security a relation with a guy can give her. Though it's not just ungrounded and self insecured girls that cling to this.
However I feel the opposite is true. I feel there is an underculture of women who are obsessed with glamour, power and manipulation over partners. Yet they still cling to the demand to be a particular genre of charming and entertaining outside of standard (by standard I mean common things like courting flirting and means to relations and such, what I mean is the whole charming thing is getting overblown.)
Bottom line: we shouldn't be expected to be any more diplomatically and dynamically charming than what is natural, than what men are (not to say that men and the stake of natural are directly synonymous or opposing). It's not duty to be pretty attractive alpha vixens contrary to what pop culture is trying to tell us all. I'd love to see pop culture grow in insight for once...
And I could go on about how the teen to adult road is practically non existent and how we still have 37 year old men and women who are paranoid about their upkeep on trendiness, acting and wishing they could be as hip as they were when they were 18. Hey what about other things of worth? We just generating lifelong super hormone charged teenagers nowadays?
How cute. . .
Even in these modern times excessive prerequisites for a woman to even be considered as attractive are too heavy. Sorry we're not all about acting pretty, and believe me what a sad act it is. Sorry to say there is something more between the lines there. I realized a sad truth when joking around with my younger brother. "Derek, this is sooo sad, you could have a guy be really ugly, obese, or freakishly skinny, who is the funniest and fun person ever and he could get a lot of dates. But if you turn it around and it's a heavy girl, or a not so cute faced kind of girl and she's left with slim pickins. if not dying alone" "yup" and we both laughed.
Yet why is this true?
Watching a television makeover show I was taken aback by a couple. There was a well built man with what most women would claim as being handsome faced and a mousy faced bushy haired girl who wasn't very easy on the eyes as some would say. It was very odd to see this couple hand in hand. I was a little confused by the fact that I was confused. Yet it's not nearly that startling when you see a girl go with a guy that is far far from being the next runner up for male model of the year. I couldn't explain the confusion at first, but then I realized more and more that its a sick and unfair part of our culture.
I walked past as my dad was watching Miss Congeniality on t.v. (great movie !) one of the pagent officials stammered on to say "I've been fighting my whole career against people like you, feminists, intellectuals:: Ugly women!" Yes I appreciate the humor but this brings up the point again. They focus less on being pleasing creatures to men. In this case I am referencing ugly as being unattractive in manner or in appearance. This kind of ugly she probably means as women who don't choose to apply cosmetics as a daily routine. I see no immediate problem with makeup as I wear it and wear it for myself only but I really do give a salute to women who don't feel it's a necessity or a requirement. :)
Kudos to Ms. Farmer, especially in a time when it was much much worse and unequal.
Kudos to EBTG composed of two members - one female and one male who support this belief.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
yeah...
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a september kind of feel
It comes near this time of year. The air becomes heavy; thicker and almost scented as autumn closes in. In the front of my mind I hardly ever know what month it is anymore. School schedules would pound that in nicely, my theoretical secretary would get the memo by the second day. How else to explain it but that each month tumbles into the next? Maybe I might notice.
But September always stands out.
I'm hoping and praying I don't have a someone else's old bills hanging over my head. I don't know where to even begin on that one. As to where I live now-- my parents usually seem far away, buried under debt of their own that only seem to deepen around this time of year.
Dammit macs don't crash, my ass.
On a plus note I stumbled into a collaborative blog and music forum the other day, centered on intellectual and eclectic varieties in music. It's refreshing to see others take music to another level other than a base form of entertainment. I see it as something to be celebrated as artistic, as a meaningful form of communication, sect of life, and a unique way to delve straight into the heart of any matter. Anyone who knows me knows that I can talk music for hours and hours... and hours after that. I'm thrilled because I'm already getting references for musical artists and groups that I've never heard of before. *grin* Had to geek out on this one.
God, my head hurts...
Earlier my dad and brother were watching a programming about the most recent conflicts in the middle east and how it could spell World War III. I sat there crosslegged on the floor completely spellbound and all at once screaming inside to discredit everything and claim ignorance. There was a segment on what the key element of chemical warfare could do. . .
I was asked to take a stance in an essay on the bombings on Hiroshima in an old history class. Unethical was my take... To me, nukes are way too powerful to be used as a means in human conflict. Woo hoo you brought a whole nation to opt out with repetitive crotch kicking. Who can call that victory?
I'm still a little out of the loop when it comes to the everchanging scene of this Holy Land. Yet if I got a pop quiz on the subject it would be easy to sum it all up, suicide bombings, evacutions, death toll, religious intolerance merging into genocide (if not xenocide at this point).
This country's war sometimes brings me to hang my head. My stance on the war can only be described as a photo-finish, one footfall making all the difference. That's beside the point.
I only wish that more was being done other than steal the flag. We need more social programs within the borders, not just treaties and military support. How is such an ethnocentric tunnelvisioned country supposed to be so warm and receptive to "Western" ways? If we don't take the time to fully comprehend what issues the public there is conflicted over, military efforts there will be in vain. If we don't do our part to best illustrate why the dramatic reforms are taking place, why they aren't an attack against their culture and religion then they will have everyright to join the resistance movements.
We're a diverse country, what we need is American Muslims and Americans with middle Eastern backgrounds to aid the changes of life there. Programs which promote religious tolerance, programs that respect Islam, programs that aid families and communities with the tools they need, programs to help feed the hungry there, programs to help the country to build political awareness. They're not going to listen to and relate very well with a bunch of white guys in suits. Why should they listen to politicians who may visit now and then, who come to speak only written words, who are mainly appearing for their own countries? Pro war or Anti War people need to see that dramatic shifts are taking place in a very closeminded arena. You don't storm into the operation room in the middle of your husband's brain surgery and cease all medical action. The incisions have been made.
While some military support is needed because we started the whole thing and leaving now would be rape, there should be more focus on internal aid and social reform, not military enforcement.
There's my two cents. I need to sleep before my body self destructs.
But September always stands out.
I'm hoping and praying I don't have a someone else's old bills hanging over my head. I don't know where to even begin on that one. As to where I live now-- my parents usually seem far away, buried under debt of their own that only seem to deepen around this time of year.
Dammit macs don't crash, my ass.
On a plus note I stumbled into a collaborative blog and music forum the other day, centered on intellectual and eclectic varieties in music. It's refreshing to see others take music to another level other than a base form of entertainment. I see it as something to be celebrated as artistic, as a meaningful form of communication, sect of life, and a unique way to delve straight into the heart of any matter. Anyone who knows me knows that I can talk music for hours and hours... and hours after that. I'm thrilled because I'm already getting references for musical artists and groups that I've never heard of before. *grin* Had to geek out on this one.
God, my head hurts...
Earlier my dad and brother were watching a programming about the most recent conflicts in the middle east and how it could spell World War III. I sat there crosslegged on the floor completely spellbound and all at once screaming inside to discredit everything and claim ignorance. There was a segment on what the key element of chemical warfare could do. . .
I was asked to take a stance in an essay on the bombings on Hiroshima in an old history class. Unethical was my take... To me, nukes are way too powerful to be used as a means in human conflict. Woo hoo you brought a whole nation to opt out with repetitive crotch kicking. Who can call that victory?
I'm still a little out of the loop when it comes to the everchanging scene of this Holy Land. Yet if I got a pop quiz on the subject it would be easy to sum it all up, suicide bombings, evacutions, death toll, religious intolerance merging into genocide (if not xenocide at this point).
This country's war sometimes brings me to hang my head. My stance on the war can only be described as a photo-finish, one footfall making all the difference. That's beside the point.
I only wish that more was being done other than steal the flag. We need more social programs within the borders, not just treaties and military support. How is such an ethnocentric tunnelvisioned country supposed to be so warm and receptive to "Western" ways? If we don't take the time to fully comprehend what issues the public there is conflicted over, military efforts there will be in vain. If we don't do our part to best illustrate why the dramatic reforms are taking place, why they aren't an attack against their culture and religion then they will have everyright to join the resistance movements.
We're a diverse country, what we need is American Muslims and Americans with middle Eastern backgrounds to aid the changes of life there. Programs which promote religious tolerance, programs that respect Islam, programs that aid families and communities with the tools they need, programs to help feed the hungry there, programs to help the country to build political awareness. They're not going to listen to and relate very well with a bunch of white guys in suits. Why should they listen to politicians who may visit now and then, who come to speak only written words, who are mainly appearing for their own countries? Pro war or Anti War people need to see that dramatic shifts are taking place in a very closeminded arena. You don't storm into the operation room in the middle of your husband's brain surgery and cease all medical action. The incisions have been made.
While some military support is needed because we started the whole thing and leaving now would be rape, there should be more focus on internal aid and social reform, not military enforcement.
There's my two cents. I need to sleep before my body self destructs.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Saturday, September 02, 2006
come again?
"When a baby is born it is interesting to see the nature upon which it acts, which is inherently self centred and therefore sinful. The only thing that matters to a baby is it's own needs and desires, it is it's own god. But I do also believe in a babies innocence due to it's ignorance of it's own sinful nature. The key idea is that sin is a part of our nature from birth, thus a part of us and our makeup, permeating every one of the components mentioned above. Our mission is to turn our nature around, to "no longer conform to the pattern of this world" and to reflect Christ by working to change our character, not separate parts of it.
If we accept that we are inherently evil and need a complete renewal, rather than thinking we are actually perfect with a bit of excess bad bagagge, only then can we truly work to change.
The only value I see in separating the sin from the sinner is that it becomes easier for us to love all people."
-- http://www.sciforums.com/archive/index.php/t-2390.html
Meaning???
I recognize that this is from an independent religious forum, so I will be gentle. (yeah what's with the sci in the url?)
Inherently evil? I vouch that we have equal capacities for good and bad.
I do not understand the Christian doctrine of being born into sin. All I can sense from a newborn child is hope and innocence amidst the child's so called ignorance. What a beautiful stage of life, who can disagree?
If we accept that we are inherently evil and need a complete renewal, rather than thinking we are actually perfect with a bit of excess bad bagagge, only then can we truly work to change.
The only value I see in separating the sin from the sinner is that it becomes easier for us to love all people."
-- http://www.sciforums.com/archive/index.php/t-2390.html
Meaning???
I recognize that this is from an independent religious forum, so I will be gentle. (yeah what's with the sci in the url?)
Inherently evil? I vouch that we have equal capacities for good and bad.
I do not understand the Christian doctrine of being born into sin. All I can sense from a newborn child is hope and innocence amidst the child's so called ignorance. What a beautiful stage of life, who can disagree?
Friday, September 01, 2006
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
a right as you also have...
We were sitting in the front room, I lounged in my p.j.s . Dad usually doesn't talk much politics but there we were on the topic. President Bush. The war in Iraq. Protesters. Vietnam.
He lowered his head, whispered, don't tell your mom this but. I mean I hate Mayor Rocky Anderson, want to drag him from the back of a truck for a few blocks but... i was listening to him at work, and I *really* think he has a right to an opinion. I think so.
Don't tell your mom.
He lowered his head, whispered, don't tell your mom this but. I mean I hate Mayor Rocky Anderson, want to drag him from the back of a truck for a few blocks but... i was listening to him at work, and I *really* think he has a right to an opinion. I think so.
Don't tell your mom.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
couldn't call them on it
The topic of the Keirsey sorter arose in a number of my classes in high school and once last semester. Any personality test I question the sensitivity of the results. I have a deep skepticism of any people sorting methods, took it again at the same site* Yet I came up the same. I thought it wouldn't seeing as it 'claims' that only 25% of the population have this temperment yet another source claims that it is little as 8%-10%, but no matter. I see these kinds of things being overly sensitive in their questionares usually, like the color personality tests. Still interesting though, little rebuttle from me this time.
_______________________________________________________________________________
YOU ARE AN IDEALIST
Idealists, as a temperament, are passionately concerned with personal growth and development. Idealists strive to discover who they are and how they can become their best possible self -- always this quest for self-knowledge and self-improvement drives their imagination. And they want to help others make the journey. Idealists are naturally drawn to working with people, and whether in education or counseling, in social services or personnel work, in journalism or the ministry, they are gifted at helping others find their way in life, often inspiring them to grow as individuals and to fulfill their potentials.
Idealists are sure that friendly cooperation is the best way for people to achieve their goals. Conflict and confrontation upset them because they seem to put up angry barriers between people. Idealists dream of creating harmonious, even caring personal relations, and they have a unique talent for helping people get along with each other and work together for the good of all. Such interpersonal harmony might be a romantic ideal, but then Idealists are incurable romantics who prefer to focus on what might be, rather than what is. The real, practical world is only a starting place for Idealists; they believe that life is filled with possibilities waiting to be realized, rich with meanings calling out to be understood. This idea of a mystical or spiritual dimension to life, the "not visible" or the "not yet" that can only be known through intuition or by a leap of faith, is far more important to Idealists than the world of material things.
Highly ethical in their actions, Idealists hold themselves to a strict standard of personal integrity. They must be true to themselves and to others, and they can be quite hard on themselves when they are dishonest, or when they are false or insincere. More often, however, Idealists are the very soul of kindness. Particularly in their personal relationships, Idealists are without question filled with love and good will. They believe in giving of themselves to help others; they cherish a few warm, sensitive friendships; they strive for a special rapport with their children; and in marriage they wish to find a "soulmate," someone with whom they can bond emotionally and spiritually, sharing their deepest feelings and their complex inner worlds.
Idealists are rare, making up between 20 and 25 percent of the population. But their ability to inspire people with their enthusiasm and their idealism has given them influence far beyond their numbers.
________
http://www.advisorteam.com/temperament_sorter/register.asp
*(a 'professional' personality website which charges for its indepth reports which only hosted a copy of the Keirsey test. c'mon people charging is for the birds... erm well in Hitchcockian times that is...)
_______________________________________________________________________________
YOU ARE AN IDEALIST
Idealists, as a temperament, are passionately concerned with personal growth and development. Idealists strive to discover who they are and how they can become their best possible self -- always this quest for self-knowledge and self-improvement drives their imagination. And they want to help others make the journey. Idealists are naturally drawn to working with people, and whether in education or counseling, in social services or personnel work, in journalism or the ministry, they are gifted at helping others find their way in life, often inspiring them to grow as individuals and to fulfill their potentials.
Idealists are sure that friendly cooperation is the best way for people to achieve their goals. Conflict and confrontation upset them because they seem to put up angry barriers between people. Idealists dream of creating harmonious, even caring personal relations, and they have a unique talent for helping people get along with each other and work together for the good of all. Such interpersonal harmony might be a romantic ideal, but then Idealists are incurable romantics who prefer to focus on what might be, rather than what is. The real, practical world is only a starting place for Idealists; they believe that life is filled with possibilities waiting to be realized, rich with meanings calling out to be understood. This idea of a mystical or spiritual dimension to life, the "not visible" or the "not yet" that can only be known through intuition or by a leap of faith, is far more important to Idealists than the world of material things.
Highly ethical in their actions, Idealists hold themselves to a strict standard of personal integrity. They must be true to themselves and to others, and they can be quite hard on themselves when they are dishonest, or when they are false or insincere. More often, however, Idealists are the very soul of kindness. Particularly in their personal relationships, Idealists are without question filled with love and good will. They believe in giving of themselves to help others; they cherish a few warm, sensitive friendships; they strive for a special rapport with their children; and in marriage they wish to find a "soulmate," someone with whom they can bond emotionally and spiritually, sharing their deepest feelings and their complex inner worlds.
Idealists are rare, making up between 20 and 25 percent of the population. But their ability to inspire people with their enthusiasm and their idealism has given them influence far beyond their numbers.
________
http://www.advisorteam.com/temperament_sorter/register.asp
*(a 'professional' personality website which charges for its indepth reports which only hosted a copy of the Keirsey test. c'mon people charging is for the birds... erm well in Hitchcockian times that is...)
Saturday, August 26, 2006
too easy
"People naturally fear misfortune and long for good fortune; but if the distinction is carefully studied, misfortune often turns out to be good fortune and good fortune to be misfortune."
this is a clip from the Dharma of Buddha. How interesting. Can this say that fortune takes more responsibility and control than misfortune?
how easy it is for me to embark upon worry. whatever comes will come with my welcome. Total gain or loss in anyday, the joy and wonder still remain however hidden it may be. i accept that events may end in my favor or end against it. so I live it, know what is before me as best I can, it is fleeting without any promises to stay. Less worry, fear. It's about losing the contingence on third party promises. Life should not be feared, misfortunes and fortunes attached. I will enjoy my day.
I need no promises, other than the morning sun.
this is a clip from the Dharma of Buddha. How interesting. Can this say that fortune takes more responsibility and control than misfortune?
how easy it is for me to embark upon worry. whatever comes will come with my welcome. Total gain or loss in anyday, the joy and wonder still remain however hidden it may be. i accept that events may end in my favor or end against it. so I live it, know what is before me as best I can, it is fleeting without any promises to stay. Less worry, fear. It's about losing the contingence on third party promises. Life should not be feared, misfortunes and fortunes attached. I will enjoy my day.
I need no promises, other than the morning sun.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Legend of Zelda - Twilight princess was postponed again but only by two months... Not bad, nearly promising but I'm not keeping my fingers crossed.
November 2006. Plenty of time for me to acquire the means necessary. THOUGH I THOUGHT I WOULD BE PURCHASING IT AT GRAYWHALE. They release their games a day late and discount them a tad to compensate.
OOiuo, this is going to be one of those weeks...
Ugnh... Brains. And I thought I could sword fight.
November 2006. Plenty of time for me to acquire the means necessary. THOUGH I THOUGHT I WOULD BE PURCHASING IT AT GRAYWHALE. They release their games a day late and discount them a tad to compensate.
OOiuo, this is going to be one of those weeks...
Ugnh... Brains. And I thought I could sword fight.
Monday, August 21, 2006
ugh
The putrid odor of matrix perm treatment is taking my house by storm. The horrors of being down wind, this room of mine seems to always get the worst of it by virtue of the vents and location. Not to mention hair color, but that one was one me. But jeez two perms in a row? Hey ladies how bout I go and curl your hair for the rest of the week so my house can smell half decent. That way I don't have to wheexze and hallicinate with the combined fumes of matrix hair color, primer and latex paint, and perm curl settler and inducer? huh? huh? Never mind, it's truly a game of pick your poison, having to fluff up old women's afros or endure chemical warfare.
and it gets all the better when your mother decides to bring the source into your room to show miss perm rod scalp the new paint job. The smells I swear are alive... *gag*
and it gets all the better when your mother decides to bring the source into your room to show miss perm rod scalp the new paint job. The smells I swear are alive... *gag*
Thursday, August 17, 2006
as little left to say
I could go on and list all sorts of 'trivial' things about my evening.
Like how the week I began orange tags were half off and the week I left orange tags were again discounted. One of the regulars met me over at the jewelry case, stocky and tall, backpacked as usual finding curiousity at trinkets I would pass by. She always seems to pick out things with rustic elegance, much like herself.
There was this man who resales handbags on ebay, eccentric looking with a roman face. Huge rectangular glasses, thick hair like the scientist on back to the future. He came to the register back when I was all tied up and bound by the ropes I was trying to learn. I completely messed up on the transaction before him, and then blundered on his check out as well. "Don't worry its a part of life. We mess up and then go from there." was his rough wording. I expected him to be angry or impatient, but not in the least. I would have told him thank you but... I just shyed off.
Kara stopped me in the parking lot and asked me to call now and then, tell her how things are. I act stiff around her still. I don't think I have ever met a woman with such an contrasting presence, hard and scanning at the same time as caring and maternal.
"if you bore me I am comfortable, if you interest me I am scared." It's a quote I find so relevant to my personality.
As I was chucking things into the compactor I nticed Margaret lighting up a smoke. She'd just quit recently. She sat there on the dock with a willowly look to her, dangling her old and tired feet over the end.
I hated the politics of the place. No doubt about it. Obviously admist my complaints something kept me there longer than usual. I don't think I was meant to leave earlier than now.
I kind of choked up when I saw the gift basket they had arranged for me at the end of the shift. Chocolate, a candle, flowers, and a silly cat figurine, a card written in Margaret's beautiful cursive.
I thought about when Marché left. You should have seen her whir through those dressing rooms, completely up to par. There was something so hardworking and efficient about her. Marché would sit alone on breaks, with her igloo lunch box plastered with cat and starwars stickers. We left with about the same reputations.
My mom pointed out the other day that I get along best with the older employees. I shrugged.
I need to call them tommorrow. My card fell out in the store. I could go on about the little things.
Like how the week I began orange tags were half off and the week I left orange tags were again discounted. One of the regulars met me over at the jewelry case, stocky and tall, backpacked as usual finding curiousity at trinkets I would pass by. She always seems to pick out things with rustic elegance, much like herself.
There was this man who resales handbags on ebay, eccentric looking with a roman face. Huge rectangular glasses, thick hair like the scientist on back to the future. He came to the register back when I was all tied up and bound by the ropes I was trying to learn. I completely messed up on the transaction before him, and then blundered on his check out as well. "Don't worry its a part of life. We mess up and then go from there." was his rough wording. I expected him to be angry or impatient, but not in the least. I would have told him thank you but... I just shyed off.
Kara stopped me in the parking lot and asked me to call now and then, tell her how things are. I act stiff around her still. I don't think I have ever met a woman with such an contrasting presence, hard and scanning at the same time as caring and maternal.
"if you bore me I am comfortable, if you interest me I am scared." It's a quote I find so relevant to my personality.
As I was chucking things into the compactor I nticed Margaret lighting up a smoke. She'd just quit recently. She sat there on the dock with a willowly look to her, dangling her old and tired feet over the end.
I hated the politics of the place. No doubt about it. Obviously admist my complaints something kept me there longer than usual. I don't think I was meant to leave earlier than now.
I kind of choked up when I saw the gift basket they had arranged for me at the end of the shift. Chocolate, a candle, flowers, and a silly cat figurine, a card written in Margaret's beautiful cursive.
I thought about when Marché left. You should have seen her whir through those dressing rooms, completely up to par. There was something so hardworking and efficient about her. Marché would sit alone on breaks, with her igloo lunch box plastered with cat and starwars stickers. We left with about the same reputations.
My mom pointed out the other day that I get along best with the older employees. I shrugged.
I need to call them tommorrow. My card fell out in the store. I could go on about the little things.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
too much fun
I really shouldn't be paid for these kinds of cheap thrills.
Dude. Tell me it isn't fun breaking oversized random objects into pieces!!!!!
Liz tried again and again to get the'bloody couch down into that frigging compactah'. I proceeded to jump into that compactor pit and slam the wretched blue couch towards the mechanism. I managed to beat the back off of the couch, and collaspe the arm. hee hee. I kicked a huge hole into the base too. The sides were reinforced with some sort of steel and wouldn't budge.
There was also some problem with some boards that were stuck above the compressor. Blah. So I handed Liz a metal bat who was jumping and stomping almost as maniacly as I had earlier on these boards. She took a few stabs and swings, let Erin take over. Erin's dread locks were flipping all over the place as she took a weight lifting bar and speared holes into the board and mumbled that this location should have an axe handy.
Erin takes the hippie award of the year, no contest. And seeing her take prey on this plank of wood made the day almost priceless. Holy shiot.
I'm trying to get the gumption to ask Haily my vegitarian coworker to hang out sometime. Try out some movie buisness as dangerous as that is. lol. There is something so otherly yet cultured about her demeanor that its hard to describe. *shrugs* I'll see how that goes.
I wonder where next week will take me.
Dude. Tell me it isn't fun breaking oversized random objects into pieces!!!!!
Liz tried again and again to get the'bloody couch down into that frigging compactah'. I proceeded to jump into that compactor pit and slam the wretched blue couch towards the mechanism. I managed to beat the back off of the couch, and collaspe the arm. hee hee. I kicked a huge hole into the base too. The sides were reinforced with some sort of steel and wouldn't budge.
There was also some problem with some boards that were stuck above the compressor. Blah. So I handed Liz a metal bat who was jumping and stomping almost as maniacly as I had earlier on these boards. She took a few stabs and swings, let Erin take over. Erin's dread locks were flipping all over the place as she took a weight lifting bar and speared holes into the board and mumbled that this location should have an axe handy.
Erin takes the hippie award of the year, no contest. And seeing her take prey on this plank of wood made the day almost priceless. Holy shiot.
I'm trying to get the gumption to ask Haily my vegitarian coworker to hang out sometime. Try out some movie buisness as dangerous as that is. lol. There is something so otherly yet cultured about her demeanor that its hard to describe. *shrugs* I'll see how that goes.
I wonder where next week will take me.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
i shouldn't think at night
The most intense rounds in life are fought with subtleties. A brief flair of words, a passing gesture, it's meant to be delivered with the same feverish trickle of a papercut.
Summarizing always angered me ever since I was young. With the boundaries of a summary I could never express my wonder or exasperation, the winding details that set an event apart from any other occurrence.
Then again, think about it. One word could be a thousand pictures, a picture a thousand words.
Something in me enjoys harping out the starkest attributes from my understanding. There is something to it, tacking something down as best as someone can through the medium of expression.
O'Keefe found the beauty of simplistic curves and gradualising color, pinning art down to its most basic elements. Whether it was painting a swirl of sky or oddly arranged skeletal remains amongst the spring blooms or a leave protruding from a stem. She drew interest to it. Though this is not limited to art.
The power isn't so much in the brevity as it is in the up close perspective.
Even the order of which you reveal the content of a message can completely rearrange the impression.
Interesting.
Summarizing always angered me ever since I was young. With the boundaries of a summary I could never express my wonder or exasperation, the winding details that set an event apart from any other occurrence.
Then again, think about it. One word could be a thousand pictures, a picture a thousand words.
Something in me enjoys harping out the starkest attributes from my understanding. There is something to it, tacking something down as best as someone can through the medium of expression.
O'Keefe found the beauty of simplistic curves and gradualising color, pinning art down to its most basic elements. Whether it was painting a swirl of sky or oddly arranged skeletal remains amongst the spring blooms or a leave protruding from a stem. She drew interest to it. Though this is not limited to art.
The power isn't so much in the brevity as it is in the up close perspective.
Even the order of which you reveal the content of a message can completely rearrange the impression.
Interesting.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
holy cow
Maybe I can muster up the sanity to finish my two weeks notice.
Emphasis on maybe.
Goodness I don't want to go today. I'm in no mood to be hounded after every minute I am on the clock by supervisors who are desperate to keep their jobs with an anal rententive manager. I just hope my coworkers can get out of there before it gets insane. There ain't no way they'd get me to sign agreements unauthorized by the company.
Until then there are a few distractions i still have. Like the supreme coolness of finding an awesome band you forgot about smack you across the face from some movie's credits. So 'Low' was responsible for the song Half Light... Muah ha ha.
Can I play my nintendo console on this mac?
I NEED my super nintendo! I need a nap, hot chocolate. Bloody frickin frackkin frunum. How am I going to make it through another ...
Emphasis on maybe.
Goodness I don't want to go today. I'm in no mood to be hounded after every minute I am on the clock by supervisors who are desperate to keep their jobs with an anal rententive manager. I just hope my coworkers can get out of there before it gets insane. There ain't no way they'd get me to sign agreements unauthorized by the company.
Until then there are a few distractions i still have. Like the supreme coolness of finding an awesome band you forgot about smack you across the face from some movie's credits. So 'Low' was responsible for the song Half Light... Muah ha ha.
Can I play my nintendo console on this mac?
I NEED my super nintendo! I need a nap, hot chocolate. Bloody frickin frackkin frunum. How am I going to make it through another ...
Friday, August 04, 2006
contagion or happenstance?
Rewatching "The Mothman Prophecies" has curiousified me again about theories of mass hysteria. the subject itself is interesting, sound or unsound, either way it will turn up as thought provoking. Either it's (but not limited to) a palpable pattern of social responses to archetyped conditions; a social state that can be logically explained or there is an additional element coming into play; that being the paranormal , influence of a divinity or elevated being or condition, or extraterristial happenings.
One time when I was at work I was asked to mop up an 'accident' in the rest I was the only one staffed who could stomach it. I admit I almost threw up myself looking upon and being so near the mess. Ick.
But there it is - a common reaction between people.
It is very common to become queasy and sick stomached at the sight and smell of puke or human waste. Many will have biological impulses to regurgitate themselves after nearing such. It creates a domino effect of biological manifestations of disgust.
Think back to a meeting within an organization in which you attend i.e. church or school. Someone among the seated crowd will probably yawn, and before you know it. Its like chicken pox. One initial yawner, three responding yawners etc. More dominoes.
::Yes... It is late. I'm even yawning. ::
Can this be applicable to independant matter that is well exposed to a public, which becomes archetyped after being well rooted in a publics affairs? Is it limited to biology? We are a intensly social species.
A few instances which some attribute group hysteria or shared delusions that immediately come to mind is the Salem Witchcraft Trials and the Red Scare that had the U.S. jerking like a nervous bird.
Paranoia is contagious. Have you ever been in an open area with friends at night when the surroundings have been a bit spooky, and the rest of them became spooked. Even if you don't get spooked yourself by such things, you still feel their growing fear. That fear will probably more than likely make you uneasy. I'm not salying you will be cowardized right there, but fear is something that is very easily signalled from one human to the next. How you respond is one thing, you don't have to squirm liek the rest are doing, but I am sure that that would be one of your more basest responses.
I've really got to look into this when I am more coherent and energized. Daaamn. I am soo sleepy. Perhaps I can salvage some vital brain cells while I sleep.
One time when I was at work I was asked to mop up an 'accident' in the rest I was the only one staffed who could stomach it. I admit I almost threw up myself looking upon and being so near the mess. Ick.
But there it is - a common reaction between people.
It is very common to become queasy and sick stomached at the sight and smell of puke or human waste. Many will have biological impulses to regurgitate themselves after nearing such. It creates a domino effect of biological manifestations of disgust.
Think back to a meeting within an organization in which you attend i.e. church or school. Someone among the seated crowd will probably yawn, and before you know it. Its like chicken pox. One initial yawner, three responding yawners etc. More dominoes.
::Yes... It is late. I'm even yawning. ::
Can this be applicable to independant matter that is well exposed to a public, which becomes archetyped after being well rooted in a publics affairs? Is it limited to biology? We are a intensly social species.
A few instances which some attribute group hysteria or shared delusions that immediately come to mind is the Salem Witchcraft Trials and the Red Scare that had the U.S. jerking like a nervous bird.
Paranoia is contagious. Have you ever been in an open area with friends at night when the surroundings have been a bit spooky, and the rest of them became spooked. Even if you don't get spooked yourself by such things, you still feel their growing fear. That fear will probably more than likely make you uneasy. I'm not salying you will be cowardized right there, but fear is something that is very easily signalled from one human to the next. How you respond is one thing, you don't have to squirm liek the rest are doing, but I am sure that that would be one of your more basest responses.
I've really got to look into this when I am more coherent and energized. Daaamn. I am soo sleepy. Perhaps I can salvage some vital brain cells while I sleep.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
That went well
Strange.
"So we don't think we are going to stay till the end of the lease. We're staying with his mom in New Mexico."
"Yeah? Me too. I'm going in with my parents again"
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
"BUT THE FISHIES!?!"
"So we don't think we are going to stay till the end of the lease. We're staying with his mom in New Mexico."
"Yeah? Me too. I'm going in with my parents again"
"Yeah?"
"Yep."
"BUT THE FISHIES!?!"
lol
Quinn: "If Dad had died, I would've been freaked out for, like, years."
Jake: "That's the spirit, sweetie. Avenge my death."
Daria: "You're not dying, Dad."
Jake: "Avenge me!"
Jake: "That's the spirit, sweetie. Avenge my death."
Daria: "You're not dying, Dad."
Jake: "Avenge me!"
boxing
I get the feeling it will be one of those days.
Or these days... I do what I must.
I would have gotten boxes from work, but Savers flooded over. The drain in the emergency door let up, a small leak and as soon as they opened it, it was up to their shins. However that works. I did see the inside and the closed signs, water was everywhere.
I've already begun packing. My mom says she'll be scouting out for boxes. I'm thinking about renting a uhaul. Dad will be entirely less irritable. I'd honestly do all the moving if I could. I can, but not without throwing my back out again.
Tammie can't pay the bills this month, again. I'll do what I can to help her finish this month. Losing a little plasma never hurt. We can switch the names in the lease.
Fun things to work out now.
I feel strange wherever I go.
Leaving and coming 'home' is equally strange.
Or these days... I do what I must.
I would have gotten boxes from work, but Savers flooded over. The drain in the emergency door let up, a small leak and as soon as they opened it, it was up to their shins. However that works. I did see the inside and the closed signs, water was everywhere.
I've already begun packing. My mom says she'll be scouting out for boxes. I'm thinking about renting a uhaul. Dad will be entirely less irritable. I'd honestly do all the moving if I could. I can, but not without throwing my back out again.
Tammie can't pay the bills this month, again. I'll do what I can to help her finish this month. Losing a little plasma never hurt. We can switch the names in the lease.
Fun things to work out now.
I feel strange wherever I go.
Leaving and coming 'home' is equally strange.
Friday, July 28, 2006
It's the Swiss I tell you!
Ohkay someone explain this.
How come Eiffel 65's "blue" never fails to get me excited? This another ramen complex?
Sheesh.
Or just shush, I am hearing a distant call, yes yes the circus. They'd do well with someone of my sort.
lol.
How come Eiffel 65's "blue" never fails to get me excited? This another ramen complex?
Sheesh.
Or just shush, I am hearing a distant call, yes yes the circus. They'd do well with someone of my sort.
lol.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
So Called Chaos
Funny, sad, interesting, common responses of mine. I want to get past learned responses, expectations of responses in conversations.
My mom became audibly comptemplative today, sweeping up the shop. "what is life about anyway, I mean theres gotta be a purpose." My jaw dropped right open, I rarely hear her say anything full of thought like that. It's unlike her usual topics, neighborhood gossip, nice little doses of high contrast religion, flow of the day, wanting to be rich again like when she was single, or humorous responses. She usually laughs at questions like that but with her back to the door, she looked down at her cracked hands withered away by shampoos and coloring chemicals, asked herself what purpose meant. She'd talk like that sometimes after her knee surgery, couped up in her room. That kind of talk from her will usually surprise me. Driving around, she pointed up at the moon, "i like those thin moons". Just seeing her in a rare state of wonder was satisfying.
Dreams are something I have been thinking about alot lately.
Everyone has dreams kept far from public. We usually see dreams only as just that --far. The present almost doesn't exist to us as humans. Always clouded by the trails of fear tread in the past, and an anxiety about the slow and thick curtain of the future. Only the known and the unknown. The current moment usually can't be lived, we as humans are scattered about in different times and places, never really completely present where we stand. Always clawing and and holding empty grips for more, and more once the ordered supply has arrived. We seem to judge things only by impressions and predictions, beforehand, and long reviews after the matter. But should we really have to have the door slammed shut?
Do things really need to leave before people can know the worth of something? I don't think so.
Why do we always hang our dreams up so high up and far away from us? Like the porchlight Gatsby would stare off at musingly, a speck of green in the distance. The pursuit had polluted him, he expected it to be more, to be different, to be enrapturing. He never could stay mystified by that light, or the woman who lit the light at dusk upclose, as the way he could from a distant stance. He loved mostly the tease, the luring of the dream, not the attainment of the dream.
Not to say that being subserviently content is the answer either. There is also danger in that. Awareness and a willingness to appreciate is all that is required. We shouldn't confuse the feeling of achievement with a drunken like bliss, or expect to be completely swept away. Live yourself into all things to misquote or requote Miss Keller. Why assume that achievement of our dreams will reduce themselves to our whims?
Emily Dickinson wrote "You love me best when I refuse". Though this is different from the topic of how we covet our dreams and easily discard them afterward, it can apply. No will drive someone up a wall. Yes, well, we expect yes. We stamp and label yes, treat it to dazzling lights, trumpeting music in the background of found glory. While aspiring and expecting dreams, We become petty, shooting off preferences at first sight of a yes. It shouldn't have to be you never know what you had until you've lost it. We need to know how to evaluate what is right with us, when it is with us. Past, present and future should be equally embraced, balanced and observed.
I really do believe that current humanity is afraid of anything too raw. We want coffee but not without milk, a pinch of sugar.
My mom became audibly comptemplative today, sweeping up the shop. "what is life about anyway, I mean theres gotta be a purpose." My jaw dropped right open, I rarely hear her say anything full of thought like that. It's unlike her usual topics, neighborhood gossip, nice little doses of high contrast religion, flow of the day, wanting to be rich again like when she was single, or humorous responses. She usually laughs at questions like that but with her back to the door, she looked down at her cracked hands withered away by shampoos and coloring chemicals, asked herself what purpose meant. She'd talk like that sometimes after her knee surgery, couped up in her room. That kind of talk from her will usually surprise me. Driving around, she pointed up at the moon, "i like those thin moons". Just seeing her in a rare state of wonder was satisfying.
Dreams are something I have been thinking about alot lately.
Everyone has dreams kept far from public. We usually see dreams only as just that --far. The present almost doesn't exist to us as humans. Always clouded by the trails of fear tread in the past, and an anxiety about the slow and thick curtain of the future. Only the known and the unknown. The current moment usually can't be lived, we as humans are scattered about in different times and places, never really completely present where we stand. Always clawing and and holding empty grips for more, and more once the ordered supply has arrived. We seem to judge things only by impressions and predictions, beforehand, and long reviews after the matter. But should we really have to have the door slammed shut?
Do things really need to leave before people can know the worth of something? I don't think so.
Why do we always hang our dreams up so high up and far away from us? Like the porchlight Gatsby would stare off at musingly, a speck of green in the distance. The pursuit had polluted him, he expected it to be more, to be different, to be enrapturing. He never could stay mystified by that light, or the woman who lit the light at dusk upclose, as the way he could from a distant stance. He loved mostly the tease, the luring of the dream, not the attainment of the dream.
Not to say that being subserviently content is the answer either. There is also danger in that. Awareness and a willingness to appreciate is all that is required. We shouldn't confuse the feeling of achievement with a drunken like bliss, or expect to be completely swept away. Live yourself into all things to misquote or requote Miss Keller. Why assume that achievement of our dreams will reduce themselves to our whims?
Emily Dickinson wrote "You love me best when I refuse". Though this is different from the topic of how we covet our dreams and easily discard them afterward, it can apply. No will drive someone up a wall. Yes, well, we expect yes. We stamp and label yes, treat it to dazzling lights, trumpeting music in the background of found glory. While aspiring and expecting dreams, We become petty, shooting off preferences at first sight of a yes. It shouldn't have to be you never know what you had until you've lost it. We need to know how to evaluate what is right with us, when it is with us. Past, present and future should be equally embraced, balanced and observed.
I really do believe that current humanity is afraid of anything too raw. We want coffee but not without milk, a pinch of sugar.
Monday, July 24, 2006
don't like really
Don’t talk about me as if I am already gone. Consider what you will do with the spare room when I am not around.
Nearly everything they said when I last saw them was about the expiring lease. Maybe they just look forward to privacy.
I know I am not around alot. Liz laughs at me whenever I tell her the ratio of nights at my parents to nights at my apartment. I just... can’t really stand the commute anymore. There are little things like the strangled looks in his and her eyes when I ask about splitting the rent three ways.
I don’t know what to do for a job. School, I think it’s too late for this semester.
I know I’m not around. I know you’re a little scared where you’re gonna end up. The fighting is no accident. You’re far from judgemental but you feel all his criticisms. You don’t like the stripes of rage in his anger, the arrogance when he’s corrected.
I know I’m not really around. I’ll think about it while looking for sleep tonight, staring the wall down trying to find sleep on someone else’s couch.
No wonder you want me around more. Even so I don’t know what to say to that.
Nearly everything they said when I last saw them was about the expiring lease. Maybe they just look forward to privacy.
I know I am not around alot. Liz laughs at me whenever I tell her the ratio of nights at my parents to nights at my apartment. I just... can’t really stand the commute anymore. There are little things like the strangled looks in his and her eyes when I ask about splitting the rent three ways.
I don’t know what to do for a job. School, I think it’s too late for this semester.
I know I’m not around. I know you’re a little scared where you’re gonna end up. The fighting is no accident. You’re far from judgemental but you feel all his criticisms. You don’t like the stripes of rage in his anger, the arrogance when he’s corrected.
I know I’m not really around. I’ll think about it while looking for sleep tonight, staring the wall down trying to find sleep on someone else’s couch.
No wonder you want me around more. Even so I don’t know what to say to that.
Monday, July 17, 2006
noooo
Okay, I thought the swamper stank. We are soo calling the landlord.
Heavens have mercy.
I came home and the sink smells like decaying flesh.
There was a terrible accident right outside my house. I would openly weep if I totaled a mustang. It got jacked up so bad, the horn device jammed up and would not stop. I woke up to a neverending car horn. It was probably the first time I have ever seen anyone just gallop into an ambulance vehicle.
The heat... gonna kill me...
Heavens have mercy.
I came home and the sink smells like decaying flesh.
There was a terrible accident right outside my house. I would openly weep if I totaled a mustang. It got jacked up so bad, the horn device jammed up and would not stop. I woke up to a neverending car horn. It was probably the first time I have ever seen anyone just gallop into an ambulance vehicle.
The heat... gonna kill me...
Friday, July 14, 2006
Oops
You said red blonde? Color swatch was...
semipermanent. okay, if you spent the money.
turned Purple?
Wha--?
semipermanent. okay, if you spent the money.
turned Purple?
Wha--?
little plastic castle
Perhaps I am doing good, the week has proved to be ‘khaotic’ and atypical, call it what you will.
Caity called me, after I swore to call her. I am terrible at calling people these days, migrating between cities usually takes a mental toll on me. I would go to my apartment more often but I can’t even rest knowing that in less than six hours I will get ready two hours earlier than usual, to take off to work, to go see so and so etc.
I’m about ready to pummel a few of her family members. Her breaking the news of being pregnant didn’t go so well with them. These days the boundaries of unconditional familial love are paper thin. How can they just treat her like a shame on their name. Her grandparents kicked her out, screamed at how worthless she was, and how she’s going to have to slave away to get any apology. One of them started breaking things, went on and on telling her how embarrising she was to the rest of the family. Hello? She’s taking the steps to be responsible, and is not afraid.
Ok, so much vanity in the family reputation we’re sorry, it just taxes on our needing to care about you in unfavorable weather. Bullshit.
As if this isn’t enough they are prolonging the frenzy by saying she’s also screwed up by where she chooses to get married. More like where not to. “How are you supposed to get to the temple and recieve it’s ordinances now? You are no longer worthy.”
I told her I didn’t care where she will or will not choose to have the ceremony at. I told her temple or not, your marriage will be worth something. No matter where you choose it to be. She loves him, she is preparing to be a mother and looking forward to it, I don’t see what the problem is. Her love for her fiancee is not any less, and the origin is not an insult to her child as they would suggest. I am just tired of people violently persecuting others, no, not just others, but family kin over bigotry and technicalities and zealotry over their own damn collective reputation.
That was how the week began. I’ve just felt so fragile towards others as of late.
Alycia, a physically handicapped girl and daughter of an old coworker came into my work the other day. I love the way that she looks at things, so distant and adoring of whatever she fixes upon. I would love to see through her eyes, she seems to have this unfiltered love for all the little things, for people and such. I remember her stare adoringly at two Chinese sculptures, ones that I never even looked twice at, (the detail, it’s ornamented so beautifully it’s so white!) She’s so softspoken, she waited ten minutes to just catch my eye to tell me she couldn’t hold her things anymore (due to her condition) so afraid to interupt anyone.
I asked her what her plans were now that she had graduated. Alycia talked of hopes of going into linguistics and law, hoping to aim for a position in the white house. She told me this between many short breaths, with a thin smile on her face. She hopes to go to law school. I just... She seems so delicate and softspoken, more sounded like a dream than anything. I really wanted that dream to be her most aimiable goal. That she would reach all that she hoped for. That her dream could be within reach. However I think of the skepticism and hard edged demands and specific qualifications that career would require and think, she would be eaten alive. Her hopes were so pure and raw. I watched everything about her light up as she explained this and I looked away, tears welling up.
I had a customer ask me about a blanket, I answered her question quickly and before going back to cleaning, told her she had beautiful green eyes, She said other wise and confessed she had been crying. Her ex husband had gotten into a car wreck and is in critical condition. Something about his arm being cut off, something about her wanting and not wanting to tell him how she feels about his drinking again. Or how she feels about his well being. Later when I was thrown on the register, I asked her further on...
Then there is Liz who doesn't know how much courage she has to watch her four year old go through his brain surgery, he's been in a haze of seditatives, sometimes responds when she is there. The swelling has been horrible and well he may just require additional surgeries due to hemorraging.
This week I have been increasingly sensitive to these things, however not injured by them. but just troubled by the complex habitat we all badly maim each other in our attempts to ‘share’ or just not share at all. It just seems like hard times for everyone these days.
Hearing Anna break into tears over my answering machine totally... Or Tammie look at me hopefully each time I tell her I am leaving, hoping I will come back. I swear she’s already accepted me as family and yet, here I am her roomate that has to pay visits to see her. There's my mom crying about her unpaid bills, and...
It's the life we live.
It’s just been a dismal week.
Caity called me, after I swore to call her. I am terrible at calling people these days, migrating between cities usually takes a mental toll on me. I would go to my apartment more often but I can’t even rest knowing that in less than six hours I will get ready two hours earlier than usual, to take off to work, to go see so and so etc.
I’m about ready to pummel a few of her family members. Her breaking the news of being pregnant didn’t go so well with them. These days the boundaries of unconditional familial love are paper thin. How can they just treat her like a shame on their name. Her grandparents kicked her out, screamed at how worthless she was, and how she’s going to have to slave away to get any apology. One of them started breaking things, went on and on telling her how embarrising she was to the rest of the family. Hello? She’s taking the steps to be responsible, and is not afraid.
Ok, so much vanity in the family reputation we’re sorry, it just taxes on our needing to care about you in unfavorable weather. Bullshit.
As if this isn’t enough they are prolonging the frenzy by saying she’s also screwed up by where she chooses to get married. More like where not to. “How are you supposed to get to the temple and recieve it’s ordinances now? You are no longer worthy.”
I told her I didn’t care where she will or will not choose to have the ceremony at. I told her temple or not, your marriage will be worth something. No matter where you choose it to be. She loves him, she is preparing to be a mother and looking forward to it, I don’t see what the problem is. Her love for her fiancee is not any less, and the origin is not an insult to her child as they would suggest. I am just tired of people violently persecuting others, no, not just others, but family kin over bigotry and technicalities and zealotry over their own damn collective reputation.
That was how the week began. I’ve just felt so fragile towards others as of late.
Alycia, a physically handicapped girl and daughter of an old coworker came into my work the other day. I love the way that she looks at things, so distant and adoring of whatever she fixes upon. I would love to see through her eyes, she seems to have this unfiltered love for all the little things, for people and such. I remember her stare adoringly at two Chinese sculptures, ones that I never even looked twice at, (the detail, it’s ornamented so beautifully it’s so white!) She’s so softspoken, she waited ten minutes to just catch my eye to tell me she couldn’t hold her things anymore (due to her condition) so afraid to interupt anyone.
I asked her what her plans were now that she had graduated. Alycia talked of hopes of going into linguistics and law, hoping to aim for a position in the white house. She told me this between many short breaths, with a thin smile on her face. She hopes to go to law school. I just... She seems so delicate and softspoken, more sounded like a dream than anything. I really wanted that dream to be her most aimiable goal. That she would reach all that she hoped for. That her dream could be within reach. However I think of the skepticism and hard edged demands and specific qualifications that career would require and think, she would be eaten alive. Her hopes were so pure and raw. I watched everything about her light up as she explained this and I looked away, tears welling up.
I had a customer ask me about a blanket, I answered her question quickly and before going back to cleaning, told her she had beautiful green eyes, She said other wise and confessed she had been crying. Her ex husband had gotten into a car wreck and is in critical condition. Something about his arm being cut off, something about her wanting and not wanting to tell him how she feels about his drinking again. Or how she feels about his well being. Later when I was thrown on the register, I asked her further on...
Then there is Liz who doesn't know how much courage she has to watch her four year old go through his brain surgery, he's been in a haze of seditatives, sometimes responds when she is there. The swelling has been horrible and well he may just require additional surgeries due to hemorraging.
This week I have been increasingly sensitive to these things, however not injured by them. but just troubled by the complex habitat we all badly maim each other in our attempts to ‘share’ or just not share at all. It just seems like hard times for everyone these days.
Hearing Anna break into tears over my answering machine totally... Or Tammie look at me hopefully each time I tell her I am leaving, hoping I will come back. I swear she’s already accepted me as family and yet, here I am her roomate that has to pay visits to see her. There's my mom crying about her unpaid bills, and...
It's the life we live.
It’s just been a dismal week.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Sunday, July 09, 2006
wallet magneto?
Oh god, the things I stumble into.
lol.
As I work at a thrift store I see plenty of things that have high resale potential. I never get the gumption to actually go through with it and do the whole ebay thing i.e. actual movie theatre films, foreign dolls and china, random home decor and such. I have a few customers who do such on the side, pick through the store for collectables, like designer purses, dishes, etc. (like those stupid Doonesbury purses wtf are they so popular I mean it's leather with a little ducky stamp) One avid customer I have comes in for handbags and suitcases, ebays them of for plenty the value.
I wanted to do a little punk jacket thing too, just spruce up an old vest with patches and studs and some kid in Chicargo will be like that is the shiznit! Perhaps I still shall. My roomates say it's a sure fire thing.
I just want to do it for the halibut, heh maybe a potential resume slot clothing design lololol.
I had a customer gawk over the value of eel skin. While sorting the wallets today, I happened to chance on an eel skin wallet. I decided to find the value of the wallet to see if it could be ebayed or something.
Do eelskin wallets demagnetize bank teller cards?
dude.
Weirdness.
lol.
As I work at a thrift store I see plenty of things that have high resale potential. I never get the gumption to actually go through with it and do the whole ebay thing i.e. actual movie theatre films, foreign dolls and china, random home decor and such. I have a few customers who do such on the side, pick through the store for collectables, like designer purses, dishes, etc. (like those stupid Doonesbury purses wtf are they so popular I mean it's leather with a little ducky stamp) One avid customer I have comes in for handbags and suitcases, ebays them of for plenty the value.
I wanted to do a little punk jacket thing too, just spruce up an old vest with patches and studs and some kid in Chicargo will be like that is the shiznit! Perhaps I still shall. My roomates say it's a sure fire thing.
I just want to do it for the halibut, heh maybe a potential resume slot clothing design lololol.
I had a customer gawk over the value of eel skin. While sorting the wallets today, I happened to chance on an eel skin wallet. I decided to find the value of the wallet to see if it could be ebayed or something.
Do eelskin wallets demagnetize bank teller cards?
dude.
Weirdness.
A Slow Descent
I'm tired.
Cynical and broken, but wiser.
Heavy with a sense of resentment,
but i used to be so much different,
I used to have so much faith
when I started.
You knew that I always meant it.
I knew I could make a difference,
I struggled to be heard
and then finally, one day people started listening.
and I knew it
but as soon as it began it was ruined.
A slow descent from unique to routine,
over and over,
"just do it again and this time with feeling".
The spotlight.
The focus on the friends and the feelings.
That made those stupid songs all worth singing.
And don't you say a word
unless you're pretty sure that you want it analyzed.
So we drove
for what seemed like days
over roads
and four lane highways.
We said all we had to say
and I realized in time that it didn't mean anything.
Never,
not ever again.
Not like that.
"It's only a matter of time".
-Straylight Run
Cynical and broken, but wiser.
Heavy with a sense of resentment,
but i used to be so much different,
I used to have so much faith
when I started.
You knew that I always meant it.
I knew I could make a difference,
I struggled to be heard
and then finally, one day people started listening.
and I knew it
but as soon as it began it was ruined.
A slow descent from unique to routine,
over and over,
"just do it again and this time with feeling".
The spotlight.
The focus on the friends and the feelings.
That made those stupid songs all worth singing.
And don't you say a word
unless you're pretty sure that you want it analyzed.
So we drove
for what seemed like days
over roads
and four lane highways.
We said all we had to say
and I realized in time that it didn't mean anything.
Never,
not ever again.
Not like that.
"It's only a matter of time".
-Straylight Run
Sunday, July 02, 2006
cartoon bandaids
"I decided to actually hug you because you almost have a cute outfit today!" Who are you and what the hell have you done with my widdle sister?
Asking the little punk about her well previous boyfriend I said well you been on a date with him or something? "No! 6th grade duh!! You don't really date or anything right now, just say that you are bf and gf and that stuff." Umm okay.
Lol. Getting weirder by the day. Perfume and clevage, how the hell did you figure these things punk? Oh my god. I call it multitasking, she's twelve and she is walking talking and lookin' like she's 16. These beastly preteen years.
No Quinn those earrings don't make you look fat.
She was smarter when she was a kid.
Asking the little punk about her well previous boyfriend I said well you been on a date with him or something? "No! 6th grade duh!! You don't really date or anything right now, just say that you are bf and gf and that stuff." Umm okay.
Lol. Getting weirder by the day. Perfume and clevage, how the hell did you figure these things punk? Oh my god. I call it multitasking, she's twelve and she is walking talking and lookin' like she's 16. These beastly preteen years.
No Quinn those earrings don't make you look fat.
She was smarter when she was a kid.
Friday, June 30, 2006
cause good is boring
If so I admire the way you bore. Cause sometimes, we aren't so different.
We both kind of feel like we are losing strength don't we? But it's okay. sometimes we need to regenerate I guess. Life takes us all to the strangest of places.
You did things I've never see you do before, said things that I've heard myself say.
___
Everything I do is judged
And they mostly get it wrong
But oh well
'Cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
And the woman who lives there can tell
The truth from the stuff that they say
And she looks me in the eye
And says would you prefer the easy way?
No, well O.K. then
Don't cry
And I wonder if everything I do
I do instead of something I want to do more
The question fills my head
I know that there's no grand plan here
This is just the way it goes
And when everything else seems unclear
I guess at least I know
I do it for the joy it brings...
I do it for the joy it brings
Because I'm a joyful girl
Because the world owes me nothing
And we owe each other the world
I do it because it's the least I can do
I do it because I learned it from you
I do it just because I want to
Because I want to
-- Joyful Girl by Ani DiFranco
We both kind of feel like we are losing strength don't we? But it's okay. sometimes we need to regenerate I guess. Life takes us all to the strangest of places.
You did things I've never see you do before, said things that I've heard myself say.
___
Everything I do is judged
And they mostly get it wrong
But oh well
'Cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
And the woman who lives there can tell
The truth from the stuff that they say
And she looks me in the eye
And says would you prefer the easy way?
No, well O.K. then
Don't cry
And I wonder if everything I do
I do instead of something I want to do more
The question fills my head
I know that there's no grand plan here
This is just the way it goes
And when everything else seems unclear
I guess at least I know
I do it for the joy it brings...
I do it for the joy it brings
Because I'm a joyful girl
Because the world owes me nothing
And we owe each other the world
I do it because it's the least I can do
I do it because I learned it from you
I do it just because I want to
Because I want to
-- Joyful Girl by Ani DiFranco
Before these crowded streets
"Yes I do see many of us afraid of scraps,
afraid of their big design" -Sandra McPherson
"There are times when a brief passing moment can hold a special place in our subconscious. Seeing someone for the first time can be such an occasion. And although the view may have lasted only an instant, our mind has a way of filling in what the eye didn’t see, creating an impression that can linger forever..." -James Christensen
______
Peering out of the bus window, I saw a blue streaked bird today. A pang of shock came at the sight, it walking about drinking from a smoky puddle of grease and water. It abided so naturally there at the corner gas station, instead of seeking out the unruly rural areas. It... made me sad.
It is so windy, today. Not only that, the winds have been warm which have a spooky way of leaving a calm in my bones. It does settle the mind for a moment.
Current humanity seems to enact a recipe for self decay by nature. We talked about it while driving down the road. Far from our roots.Thinking of that, I took the stairs instead of the elevator today, *pulled* open the door instead of gliding through the other electric servanting entrance.
It is a bit haunting the thought of it.
So perhaps Diamond should write a second volume of Guns, Germs, and Steel. this time he should focus on the entire populations conquistadores of the twenty first century.
Conquerers of quality, reality of being.
A thought came to me while cashiering, as I stooped to pick up a small penny from a transaction. Echoes of other penny occassions came. I see people drop them without a thought, just a small thing, little worth. Even a nickel or a dime, easily left, the effort not cost effective. I've always been drawn to flavor and detail,that with undemanding notices in the background. Not all pennies are round, but little scraps of being.
I laughed at the trouble I was having with swiping this coin back up. My nails were much to short for any ease with gripping small objects. My register would have noted its absence. I pick up every penny I am able to now, because I feel that pull i n my life, cause what those little things end up meaning to me. Again these minute particulars.
afraid of their big design" -Sandra McPherson
"There are times when a brief passing moment can hold a special place in our subconscious. Seeing someone for the first time can be such an occasion. And although the view may have lasted only an instant, our mind has a way of filling in what the eye didn’t see, creating an impression that can linger forever..." -James Christensen
______
Peering out of the bus window, I saw a blue streaked bird today. A pang of shock came at the sight, it walking about drinking from a smoky puddle of grease and water. It abided so naturally there at the corner gas station, instead of seeking out the unruly rural areas. It... made me sad.
It is so windy, today. Not only that, the winds have been warm which have a spooky way of leaving a calm in my bones. It does settle the mind for a moment.
Current humanity seems to enact a recipe for self decay by nature. We talked about it while driving down the road. Far from our roots.Thinking of that, I took the stairs instead of the elevator today, *pulled* open the door instead of gliding through the other electric servanting entrance.
It is a bit haunting the thought of it.
So perhaps Diamond should write a second volume of Guns, Germs, and Steel. this time he should focus on the entire populations conquistadores of the twenty first century.
Conquerers of quality, reality of being.
A thought came to me while cashiering, as I stooped to pick up a small penny from a transaction. Echoes of other penny occassions came. I see people drop them without a thought, just a small thing, little worth. Even a nickel or a dime, easily left, the effort not cost effective. I've always been drawn to flavor and detail,that with undemanding notices in the background. Not all pennies are round, but little scraps of being.
I laughed at the trouble I was having with swiping this coin back up. My nails were much to short for any ease with gripping small objects. My register would have noted its absence. I pick up every penny I am able to now, because I feel that pull i n my life, cause what those little things end up meaning to me. Again these minute particulars.
Delta
If you have taken this rubble for my past
raking through it for fragments you could sell
know that I long ago moved on
deeper into the heart of matter
If you think you can grasp me, think again
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing in the riverbed
with its five fingers spread
-Adrienne Rich
raking through it for fragments you could sell
know that I long ago moved on
deeper into the heart of matter
If you think you can grasp me, think again
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing in the riverbed
with its five fingers spread
-Adrienne Rich
Thursday, June 22, 2006
EXPECT NOTHING
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
Become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.
Discover the reason why
So tiny human giant
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
-Alice Walker
Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
Become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.
Discover the reason why
So tiny human giant
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
-Alice Walker
two rectangles
I hardly know what to say. I usually don't say much about these kinds of things. It seems that this society breeds departures of this kind. A very well tended to American value is minding one's own buisness.
I... I vowed to myself to look as hard as I can at people to see who they are and who they could become. I would hope that humanity could seek harmony, without living an eye for an eye always, everyman for himself. With the people in my life, I want to extend anything I can to them. Care, you know? Why? Because I know that hardly anyone else will, all of us rarely meet anyone who is able to give a damn anymore. What kind of existence is that?
But because I know this reality, I know to expect nothing, from any one person. People are not suppliers to my needs so I don't need their civility or their kindness. If I do see it, i recieve it with an appreciation.
It's a sad reality.
But that vow. Not always easy especially in moments like this.
She told me to save my time and stop calling. I've never remembered her like that... That we had gone separate ways and I was just a junior high friend, that I had no reason to tell her how to live her life. I didn't expect to be so misunderstood by one that I respected and looked up to so much. I have no idea what kind of image she has of me that made her say the things that she said. I can see why she came to the conclusion she has, when I think on it, sort of.
I've come to the conclusion that I am not accountable for this. I have no need to prove anything more than I already have. And so I expect nothing. However it does add an odd stillness to my day. I can laugh about it sometimes.
I... I vowed to myself to look as hard as I can at people to see who they are and who they could become. I would hope that humanity could seek harmony, without living an eye for an eye always, everyman for himself. With the people in my life, I want to extend anything I can to them. Care, you know? Why? Because I know that hardly anyone else will, all of us rarely meet anyone who is able to give a damn anymore. What kind of existence is that?
But because I know this reality, I know to expect nothing, from any one person. People are not suppliers to my needs so I don't need their civility or their kindness. If I do see it, i recieve it with an appreciation.
It's a sad reality.
But that vow. Not always easy especially in moments like this.
She told me to save my time and stop calling. I've never remembered her like that... That we had gone separate ways and I was just a junior high friend, that I had no reason to tell her how to live her life. I didn't expect to be so misunderstood by one that I respected and looked up to so much. I have no idea what kind of image she has of me that made her say the things that she said. I can see why she came to the conclusion she has, when I think on it, sort of.
I've come to the conclusion that I am not accountable for this. I have no need to prove anything more than I already have. And so I expect nothing. However it does add an odd stillness to my day. I can laugh about it sometimes.
history of us
i went all the way to paris to forget your face
captured in stained glass, young lives long since passed
statues of lovers every place
i went all across the continent to relieve this restless love
i walked through the ruins, icons of glory
smashed by the bombs from above
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
jeu de paume's full of faces knowing peace, knowing strife
leisure and toil, still it's canvas and oil
there's just no medium for life
in the midst of the rubble i felt a sense of rebirth
in a dusty cathedral the living god called
and i prayed for my life here on earth
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
there are mountains in switzerland, brilliant cold as they stand
from my hotel room, watching the half-moon
bleeding its light like a lamb
and the town is illumined, its tiny figures are fast asleep
and it dawns on me the time is upon me
to return to the flock i must keep
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
-Indigo Girls
--------
captured in stained glass, young lives long since passed
statues of lovers every place
i went all across the continent to relieve this restless love
i walked through the ruins, icons of glory
smashed by the bombs from above
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
jeu de paume's full of faces knowing peace, knowing strife
leisure and toil, still it's canvas and oil
there's just no medium for life
in the midst of the rubble i felt a sense of rebirth
in a dusty cathedral the living god called
and i prayed for my life here on earth
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
there are mountains in switzerland, brilliant cold as they stand
from my hotel room, watching the half-moon
bleeding its light like a lamb
and the town is illumined, its tiny figures are fast asleep
and it dawns on me the time is upon me
to return to the flock i must keep
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
-Indigo Girls
--------
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
*sigh*
Now that I turn into a tomato in front of my land lord...
Yeah.
I've been contacting people that I've neglected to keep in touch with the past few months. I hate losing touch. Touch is something that is too easy to lose.
Life just pulls us all out in different directions. No, I would hope that we don't "soon forget the things we cannot see."
A descision is at hand right now... I'm a little unsure. I don't want to kick anyone out. However it is so strange. I feel awkward sometimes around these two, they are practically married now and... That's just it I feel like an occupant in a married couple's place. Not to mention 2/3's of the people I know would pale at the thought of me living with a guy here. I can't describe why or how this gets to me. It does, and I don't like the way it feels. John will tell me to stay out of things before I even say anything. I try to be ignorant and impervious. I can be outwardly at least but. Really I can't be. I don't agree with all the fighting. I try to keep it their buisness but you know when you hear a man screaming out and a girl cussing back at him, it's hard to pretend nothing is going on. Or when he has to sleep on the couch. I want quiet sometimes. I loved how there seemed to be less anger here but that has changed since he has stayed here. Right at home again I guess.
I just...
Yeah.
I've been contacting people that I've neglected to keep in touch with the past few months. I hate losing touch. Touch is something that is too easy to lose.
Life just pulls us all out in different directions. No, I would hope that we don't "soon forget the things we cannot see."
A descision is at hand right now... I'm a little unsure. I don't want to kick anyone out. However it is so strange. I feel awkward sometimes around these two, they are practically married now and... That's just it I feel like an occupant in a married couple's place. Not to mention 2/3's of the people I know would pale at the thought of me living with a guy here. I can't describe why or how this gets to me. It does, and I don't like the way it feels. John will tell me to stay out of things before I even say anything. I try to be ignorant and impervious. I can be outwardly at least but. Really I can't be. I don't agree with all the fighting. I try to keep it their buisness but you know when you hear a man screaming out and a girl cussing back at him, it's hard to pretend nothing is going on. Or when he has to sleep on the couch. I want quiet sometimes. I loved how there seemed to be less anger here but that has changed since he has stayed here. Right at home again I guess.
I just...
Monday, June 19, 2006
on the scale of awesome
Today can only be expressed as adventurous.
This is so why I take the bus, to meet other eccentrics like myself.
I made a new nerd friend today. I saw a mac laptop, which this guy carried around. Funny that I saw him going inbound and outbound. The second time I got gumption and asked to finally desaturate my curiousity for these pretty little "mac tops".
How gratifing it is to talk about little nit picky mac functions and of course, "the big switch". Even better to hear that a previous tech support had some of the same issues that I currently have. Of course, this "switch" was well worth it as he was also going into graphic design, (cool!!) no better way to go then a mac in that rodeo. We both decided that Trekkies are quite fun and terribly misunderstood.
It was great to geek out with someone over the more retro game consoles. Holy shioot this guy had a Jaguar, and was also tracking an intellivision! Those are impossible!! It was easy for him though, from what I understood he was a kid when these consoles were released. I've never talked to someone that has bought a packaged atari or sega off the shelves.
Which reminds me!!! I did not buy that gamegear I found at work. *sobbing* I hope its not gone... Perhaps I can finally get that pac man game for the atari. We all love pac man just admit it. Little yellow chomper dude.
I just got my order for the awesomest tee shirt today. Makes me proud.
I caught the bus to work 20 minutes early but still arrived 20 minutes late because of traffic down in Sunset. One of these days you should all take a day off and observe the Whitney as she darts about in a mad flurry of a hurry. Better than pay per view.
There was more traffic in savers of course, being a monday sale. Sheesh. Too bad though. I heard an ever so familiar voice, and yelled out "Susan?" Responding to her name, my anthropology proffessor turned around and peered out of her designer glasses, "Whitney! How have you been?" Oh, I wished we would have had time to talk. She was picking up some home decor for her cabin. Now that was on the scale of awesome.
On top of all this today people were so kind. I found myself asking how many girls it took to shove a desk in a car after a customer had purchased furniture. One of em was pretty tough actually, just took the reigns and started haulin. That was so so so cool, it was more in her tough ass demeanor than anything. To the point, a stranger offered a hand to these girls, who was parked a little bit away from them, kinda watching us with nothing to do. That was... Nice.
The second, a mother and her son came to my register. I subtotalled and this kid started rummagging through his pockets, as his mom went through her purse. He was what like seven and here he was "dont worry I want to pay for ya" with his baby toothed grin. It was so incredibly cute.
Ashley my coworker said sometime she is going to just go out and relocate to England. Random. Just like that. I also talked quite seriously about leaving the country. We were talking about it and I thought to myself what's keeping me from doing this kind of thing? Why can't I? It's doable, easily doable as seen so well in my aunt's wanderlust. She could give me the low down.
So yes, a day of many an adventure.
This is so why I take the bus, to meet other eccentrics like myself.
I made a new nerd friend today. I saw a mac laptop, which this guy carried around. Funny that I saw him going inbound and outbound. The second time I got gumption and asked to finally desaturate my curiousity for these pretty little "mac tops".
How gratifing it is to talk about little nit picky mac functions and of course, "the big switch". Even better to hear that a previous tech support had some of the same issues that I currently have. Of course, this "switch" was well worth it as he was also going into graphic design, (cool!!) no better way to go then a mac in that rodeo. We both decided that Trekkies are quite fun and terribly misunderstood.
It was great to geek out with someone over the more retro game consoles. Holy shioot this guy had a Jaguar, and was also tracking an intellivision! Those are impossible!! It was easy for him though, from what I understood he was a kid when these consoles were released. I've never talked to someone that has bought a packaged atari or sega off the shelves.
Which reminds me!!! I did not buy that gamegear I found at work. *sobbing* I hope its not gone... Perhaps I can finally get that pac man game for the atari. We all love pac man just admit it. Little yellow chomper dude.
I just got my order for the awesomest tee shirt today. Makes me proud.
I caught the bus to work 20 minutes early but still arrived 20 minutes late because of traffic down in Sunset. One of these days you should all take a day off and observe the Whitney as she darts about in a mad flurry of a hurry. Better than pay per view.
There was more traffic in savers of course, being a monday sale. Sheesh. Too bad though. I heard an ever so familiar voice, and yelled out "Susan?" Responding to her name, my anthropology proffessor turned around and peered out of her designer glasses, "Whitney! How have you been?" Oh, I wished we would have had time to talk. She was picking up some home decor for her cabin. Now that was on the scale of awesome.
On top of all this today people were so kind. I found myself asking how many girls it took to shove a desk in a car after a customer had purchased furniture. One of em was pretty tough actually, just took the reigns and started haulin. That was so so so cool, it was more in her tough ass demeanor than anything. To the point, a stranger offered a hand to these girls, who was parked a little bit away from them, kinda watching us with nothing to do. That was... Nice.
The second, a mother and her son came to my register. I subtotalled and this kid started rummagging through his pockets, as his mom went through her purse. He was what like seven and here he was "dont worry I want to pay for ya" with his baby toothed grin. It was so incredibly cute.
Ashley my coworker said sometime she is going to just go out and relocate to England. Random. Just like that. I also talked quite seriously about leaving the country. We were talking about it and I thought to myself what's keeping me from doing this kind of thing? Why can't I? It's doable, easily doable as seen so well in my aunt's wanderlust. She could give me the low down.
So yes, a day of many an adventure.
deteriorations
We live in the age of the short attention span- where vacuousness is a virtue, where time to stop and think is rarely found and where everything goes in one ear and out the other.
-angloplugging.co.uk
*****
Sing
There is this thing that's like touching except you don't touch
Back in the day it just went without saying at all
All the world's history gradually dying of shock
There is thing that's like talking except you don't talk
You sing
You sing
Sing for the bartender sing for the janitor sing
Sing for the cameras sing for the animals sing
Sing for the children shooting the children sing
Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing
Just sing
There is thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked
It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance
After the show you can not sing wherever you want
But for now lets just pretend that we're gonna get bombed
So sing
Sing cause its obvious sing for the astronauts sing
Sing for the president sing for the terrorists sing
Sing for the soccer team sing for the janjaweed sing
Sing for the kid with the phone who refuses to sing
Just sing
Life is no cabaret
We don't care what you say
We're inviting you anyway
-Dresden Dolls
**
The loss can be a leak in history or a shrinking in the vitality of everyday life. --Adrienne
*****
A couple of years ago, a tabloid in one of India’s metros called in a consultant to help them make the newspaper more reader-friendly. “Keep stories short,” he advised. Shorter stories, snappy paragraphs, simple sentences; suck the reader in and spit him out before he gets bored. This is the age of the short-attention span, and we see it all around us.
It’s there in the journalism. Tabloids keep their stories brief. Agency copy often consists entirely of one-sentence paragraphs: news for dummies. Magazines have found that the pages that readers turn to most are the snippetty ones, that don’t make demands on the reader’s time – like the last page of India Today, or the second- and third-last of Outlook. One of the reasons that blogs are gaining in popularity along the world, in fact, is that they cater to the short-attention span: the most popular typically have brief, pithy posts that efficiently encapsulate the subject they’re on about.
We see this also in the way we consume music. Soon, all music will be sold in the form of digital downloads, which is convenient because most people prefer to buy songs rather than albums, preferring to listen to a familiar song they like over and over rather than explore an artist’s oeuvre. It’s all a-la-carte now, and concept albums might soon be the dinosaurs of music. Television channels have also recognised this: MTV India found years ago that their maximum-TRP shows were their so-called vignettes, the two-to-three minute snippets that viewers can consume easily, like MTV Bakra and Filmi Fundas. We are hungry for the easily digestible. Ten-course meals? Sorry, no time, could you summarise please?
Television, in fact, is often blamed as a cause and not a symptom of this. Camille Paglia recently wrote: “The jump and jitter of U.S. commercial television have demonstrably reduced attention span in the young. The Web too, with its addictive unfurling of hypertext, encourages restless acceleration.”
-India Uncut
**********
Fuel
they were digging a new foudation in Manhattan
and they discovered a slave cemetary there
may their souls rest easy
now that lynching is frowned upon
and we've moved on to the electric chair
and i wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dummer
and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer
howabout we put up a wall between houses and the highway
and you can go your way , and i can go my may
except all the radios agree with all the tvs
and all the magazines agree with all the radios
and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go
maybe i should put a bucket over my head
and a marshmallow in each ear
and stumble around for
another dumb- dumb waiting for another hit song to appear
people used to make records
as in a record of an event
the event of people playing music in a room
now everything is cross-marketing
its about sunglasses and shoes
or guns and drugs
you choose
we got it rehashed
we got it half-assed
we're digging up all the graves
and we're spitting on the past
and you can choose between the colors
of the lipstick on the whores
cause we know the difference between
the font of 20% more
and the font of teriakiyi
you tell me
how does it...make you feel
you tell me
what's ...real
and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics
even when they're as dry as my lips for years
even when they're stranded on a small desert island
with no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer
and i wonder
is he different
is he different
has he changed what's he about...
or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about
Am i headed for the same brick wall
is there anything i can do about
anything at all
except go back to that corner in Manhattan
and dig deeper, dig deeper this time
down beneath the impossible pain of our history
beneath unknown bones
beneath the bedrock of the mystery
beneath the sewage systems and the path drain
beneath the cobblestones and the water mains
beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
beneath everything i can think of to think about
beneath it all, beneath all get out
beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
-Ani DiFranco
**
Songless
What is the point
of being artists
if we cannot save our life?
That is the cry
that wakes us
in our sleep.
being happy is not the only
happiness
And how many gadgets
can one person manage
at one time?
Over in the Other World
the women count
their wealth
in empty
calabashes.
How to transport
food
from watering hole
to watering
hole
has ceased to be
a problem
since the animals
died
and seed grain shrunk
to fit the pocket
Now
it is just another matter
of who can create
the finest
decorations
on the empty pots.
They say in Nicaragua
the whole
government
writes,
makes music
and paints,
saving their own
and helping the people save
their own lives.
(I ask you to notice
who, songless,
rules us
here.)
These are not containers
void of food,
These are not decorations
on empty pots.
-Alice Walker
******************
this is a translation of a Chinese poem, it is a little choppy, yes
No Time
I must get far away from this city
with it's soot streaked curbs
and people who pass each other
without a smile or a word
'No time! I have no time!' She answered me,
the girl dressed all in lavender
Still, she did answer me, and yet
I didn't dare ask her,
'What important things have you time for?'
But whispered to myself instead
- the homeless whispering to the homeless -
there are those who love but have no time
for loving.
If this is true, how can birds fly back to
their nests?
How can poetry be written?
If this is true, birds and poems will die.
Yes I must get away from the city
If there is no time, no time here
to speak one word,
to share one moment's laughter...
- Nguyen Sa
_________
What are we all becoming?
-angloplugging.co.uk
*****
Sing
There is this thing that's like touching except you don't touch
Back in the day it just went without saying at all
All the world's history gradually dying of shock
There is thing that's like talking except you don't talk
You sing
You sing
Sing for the bartender sing for the janitor sing
Sing for the cameras sing for the animals sing
Sing for the children shooting the children sing
Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing
Just sing
There is thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked
It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance
After the show you can not sing wherever you want
But for now lets just pretend that we're gonna get bombed
So sing
Sing cause its obvious sing for the astronauts sing
Sing for the president sing for the terrorists sing
Sing for the soccer team sing for the janjaweed sing
Sing for the kid with the phone who refuses to sing
Just sing
Life is no cabaret
We don't care what you say
We're inviting you anyway
-Dresden Dolls
**
The loss can be a leak in history or a shrinking in the vitality of everyday life. --Adrienne
*****
A couple of years ago, a tabloid in one of India’s metros called in a consultant to help them make the newspaper more reader-friendly. “Keep stories short,” he advised. Shorter stories, snappy paragraphs, simple sentences; suck the reader in and spit him out before he gets bored. This is the age of the short-attention span, and we see it all around us.
It’s there in the journalism. Tabloids keep their stories brief. Agency copy often consists entirely of one-sentence paragraphs: news for dummies. Magazines have found that the pages that readers turn to most are the snippetty ones, that don’t make demands on the reader’s time – like the last page of India Today, or the second- and third-last of Outlook. One of the reasons that blogs are gaining in popularity along the world, in fact, is that they cater to the short-attention span: the most popular typically have brief, pithy posts that efficiently encapsulate the subject they’re on about.
We see this also in the way we consume music. Soon, all music will be sold in the form of digital downloads, which is convenient because most people prefer to buy songs rather than albums, preferring to listen to a familiar song they like over and over rather than explore an artist’s oeuvre. It’s all a-la-carte now, and concept albums might soon be the dinosaurs of music. Television channels have also recognised this: MTV India found years ago that their maximum-TRP shows were their so-called vignettes, the two-to-three minute snippets that viewers can consume easily, like MTV Bakra and Filmi Fundas. We are hungry for the easily digestible. Ten-course meals? Sorry, no time, could you summarise please?
Television, in fact, is often blamed as a cause and not a symptom of this. Camille Paglia recently wrote: “The jump and jitter of U.S. commercial television have demonstrably reduced attention span in the young. The Web too, with its addictive unfurling of hypertext, encourages restless acceleration.”
-India Uncut
**********
Fuel
they were digging a new foudation in Manhattan
and they discovered a slave cemetary there
may their souls rest easy
now that lynching is frowned upon
and we've moved on to the electric chair
and i wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dummer
and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer
howabout we put up a wall between houses and the highway
and you can go your way , and i can go my may
except all the radios agree with all the tvs
and all the magazines agree with all the radios
and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go
maybe i should put a bucket over my head
and a marshmallow in each ear
and stumble around for
another dumb- dumb waiting for another hit song to appear
people used to make records
as in a record of an event
the event of people playing music in a room
now everything is cross-marketing
its about sunglasses and shoes
or guns and drugs
you choose
we got it rehashed
we got it half-assed
we're digging up all the graves
and we're spitting on the past
and you can choose between the colors
of the lipstick on the whores
cause we know the difference between
the font of 20% more
and the font of teriakiyi
you tell me
how does it...make you feel
you tell me
what's ...real
and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics
even when they're as dry as my lips for years
even when they're stranded on a small desert island
with no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer
and i wonder
is he different
is he different
has he changed what's he about...
or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about
Am i headed for the same brick wall
is there anything i can do about
anything at all
except go back to that corner in Manhattan
and dig deeper, dig deeper this time
down beneath the impossible pain of our history
beneath unknown bones
beneath the bedrock of the mystery
beneath the sewage systems and the path drain
beneath the cobblestones and the water mains
beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
beneath everything i can think of to think about
beneath it all, beneath all get out
beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
-Ani DiFranco
**
Songless
What is the point
of being artists
if we cannot save our life?
That is the cry
that wakes us
in our sleep.
being happy is not the only
happiness
And how many gadgets
can one person manage
at one time?
Over in the Other World
the women count
their wealth
in empty
calabashes.
How to transport
food
from watering hole
to watering
hole
has ceased to be
a problem
since the animals
died
and seed grain shrunk
to fit the pocket
Now
it is just another matter
of who can create
the finest
decorations
on the empty pots.
They say in Nicaragua
the whole
government
writes,
makes music
and paints,
saving their own
and helping the people save
their own lives.
(I ask you to notice
who, songless,
rules us
here.)
These are not containers
void of food,
These are not decorations
on empty pots.
-Alice Walker
******************
this is a translation of a Chinese poem, it is a little choppy, yes
No Time
I must get far away from this city
with it's soot streaked curbs
and people who pass each other
without a smile or a word
'No time! I have no time!' She answered me,
the girl dressed all in lavender
Still, she did answer me, and yet
I didn't dare ask her,
'What important things have you time for?'
But whispered to myself instead
- the homeless whispering to the homeless -
there are those who love but have no time
for loving.
If this is true, how can birds fly back to
their nests?
How can poetry be written?
If this is true, birds and poems will die.
Yes I must get away from the city
If there is no time, no time here
to speak one word,
to share one moment's laughter...
- Nguyen Sa
_________
What are we all becoming?
Sunday, June 18, 2006
the lottery of triage
Everyone says they want to be a fly on the wall. I do. I just got an accidental call from my parents. I don't know how it worked really.
After a long series of my hellos is anyone picking up I about hung up. Until I heard my name mentioned a few times.
I don't know if they meant to call and have me over hear or not. Hard to say
Wasn't anything big either. well... Whatever. Don't always know what to say to these things.
On a lighter note, I woke up this morning with a perfect knowledge of where I am. Usually it takes me a moment to connect with my surroundings here though I know where I am if that makes sense. This time, no my room looked and felt perfectly natural again.
Well enough for me to slip back into sleep instead of forcing my self to take in my surroundings so I can better connect with it. It's hard to explain just how much my psyche attaches to my environment. I only know that it does. However I think I caught something in me from my parents families that skipped my parents, nomadic senses.
It's not always easy here out on my own but god, it is so worth it.
After a long series of my hellos is anyone picking up I about hung up. Until I heard my name mentioned a few times.
I don't know if they meant to call and have me over hear or not. Hard to say
Wasn't anything big either. well... Whatever. Don't always know what to say to these things.
On a lighter note, I woke up this morning with a perfect knowledge of where I am. Usually it takes me a moment to connect with my surroundings here though I know where I am if that makes sense. This time, no my room looked and felt perfectly natural again.
Well enough for me to slip back into sleep instead of forcing my self to take in my surroundings so I can better connect with it. It's hard to explain just how much my psyche attaches to my environment. I only know that it does. However I think I caught something in me from my parents families that skipped my parents, nomadic senses.
It's not always easy here out on my own but god, it is so worth it.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
about these kinds of things
*sigh*
I don't know what to think.
How did it happen that I am now living along with my roommate's fiance? Until who knows when?
I wouldn't mind so much but the fighting gets to me. He has the right kind of anger that makes me stony eyed.
He became guardedly upset when he saw I moved some of his drawings from the walls. I had replaced them with decorations I had bought. That I had replaced his stuffed monkey on the ceiling with a hanging pot. That I moved the candles that used to be on the tables. "but we like to have candlelit dinners!" Those candles are just chunky christmas candles I don't see the whole... Of couse they can be put back at dinner time. I just wanted to put in a center piece. It's not like my things haven't been moved around and used without me. I'm not really used to guys holding grudges, honestly.
What the.. All I wanted to do was make the place look more homely to me. I am not used to bare walls. I had understood his pictures being a temporary arrangemnet. Then again I thought this whole thing was a temporary arrangement.
'kay Whit, get to the bottom of this. If ya dont say anything he will stay here until August. I don't find much comfort in living along with a guy. We've not made any arrangements to split rent or bills but even so he does contribute in other ways.
Ugh. Too bad my tact left me tonight eh? I get to be the evil roommate with pointed horns. . .
I don't know what to think.
How did it happen that I am now living along with my roommate's fiance? Until who knows when?
I wouldn't mind so much but the fighting gets to me. He has the right kind of anger that makes me stony eyed.
He became guardedly upset when he saw I moved some of his drawings from the walls. I had replaced them with decorations I had bought. That I had replaced his stuffed monkey on the ceiling with a hanging pot. That I moved the candles that used to be on the tables. "but we like to have candlelit dinners!" Those candles are just chunky christmas candles I don't see the whole... Of couse they can be put back at dinner time. I just wanted to put in a center piece. It's not like my things haven't been moved around and used without me. I'm not really used to guys holding grudges, honestly.
What the.. All I wanted to do was make the place look more homely to me. I am not used to bare walls. I had understood his pictures being a temporary arrangemnet. Then again I thought this whole thing was a temporary arrangement.
'kay Whit, get to the bottom of this. If ya dont say anything he will stay here until August. I don't find much comfort in living along with a guy. We've not made any arrangements to split rent or bills but even so he does contribute in other ways.
Ugh. Too bad my tact left me tonight eh? I get to be the evil roommate with pointed horns. . .
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Transcontinental
I lift a wing, my head filled with the continent invents a floating body. It's not that I am fleeing because I accept what I am with the most complete submission, not to flee but to hover a bit above the stock. In fact, I don't really take off, a foot is always firmly secured in my sand-filled shoe. And I can't really lighten my ballast because I can't forget what I am. I am however able to see a bit further, a daily contact so that I don't rot in place, an instinct in the shape of a safety valve. Using a dream to harbour a different death, a different destination, infinite travel possibilities, It's a way of seeing things.
-Morthem Vlade Art
-Morthem Vlade Art
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
she drinks coffee at midnight, when the moment is not right
It just bit through me just now... Just a glimpse of the corner was all, the closet slightly agape, files from the cabinet, my chair at an angle. The moudling on the corner. My place for thinking has changed. How simple really so why should a small detail make so much fuss?
It used to be the ceiling, I'd be on my back looking up at my paper snowflakes, maybe upstairs curled on the couch stairing out the window. Where I would let my mind unravel, my thoughts saturate into a new feeling.
I am trying to put familiarity into this corner. I usually can keep a degree of familiarity along with me, wherever I am. Not when I drift off into my own world though. I really daydream alot, just get lost in my own world, spend hours just thinking... But with all that I need, the distance I drift needs an anchor, a thing of familiarity. Especially at that point where I go back to whatever I've needed to do and pull away my gaze from those particular spots. The bending of light through the shades, a faint twirl of my snowflake.
Oh goodness. I need more Chai.
Why is it that we feel we can't say what people truly mean to us, Kailu? Very aimiable goal you have, when you see something about someone that is good, tell them. Why does it need to be so secret? Maybe we can make more slams and lifts on life, on the warm pavement and stare stony eyed into the sky, swapping disarming and curious occurances.
I've been thinking about this ever since you said that... Why do we all take so much time composing ourselves to mask what we appreciate? We just don't see how urgent it is. I believed Vazzi when he said that the people here don't look at each other much, are so quick to get angry, almost arrogant because they kind of ignore... He said it wasn't like that where he was from, where he had been.
We do find everyone in minute particulars, Blake. So when will we all see that and notice how fleeting any small message is? I try to use a person's name at least once when I am with them. Few things are more closer to you than your name, your word. Just address that they are there. Subtle things like that...
You said you got to ask yourself if you feel content with it, happy... You just say things so free of bias and judgement now and then, it's good. The world needs more of that sometimes.
It used to be the ceiling, I'd be on my back looking up at my paper snowflakes, maybe upstairs curled on the couch stairing out the window. Where I would let my mind unravel, my thoughts saturate into a new feeling.
I am trying to put familiarity into this corner. I usually can keep a degree of familiarity along with me, wherever I am. Not when I drift off into my own world though. I really daydream alot, just get lost in my own world, spend hours just thinking... But with all that I need, the distance I drift needs an anchor, a thing of familiarity. Especially at that point where I go back to whatever I've needed to do and pull away my gaze from those particular spots. The bending of light through the shades, a faint twirl of my snowflake.
Oh goodness. I need more Chai.
Why is it that we feel we can't say what people truly mean to us, Kailu? Very aimiable goal you have, when you see something about someone that is good, tell them. Why does it need to be so secret? Maybe we can make more slams and lifts on life, on the warm pavement and stare stony eyed into the sky, swapping disarming and curious occurances.
I've been thinking about this ever since you said that... Why do we all take so much time composing ourselves to mask what we appreciate? We just don't see how urgent it is. I believed Vazzi when he said that the people here don't look at each other much, are so quick to get angry, almost arrogant because they kind of ignore... He said it wasn't like that where he was from, where he had been.
We do find everyone in minute particulars, Blake. So when will we all see that and notice how fleeting any small message is? I try to use a person's name at least once when I am with them. Few things are more closer to you than your name, your word. Just address that they are there. Subtle things like that...
You said you got to ask yourself if you feel content with it, happy... You just say things so free of bias and judgement now and then, it's good. The world needs more of that sometimes.
Monday, June 05, 2006
pilgrimage
Found an interesting quote earlier from a seemingly interesting stranger's blog.
“a woman is not a potted plant
her roots bound to the confines
of her house …
a woman is wilderness
unbounded” -alice walker
“the fundamental question about revolution
as lorraine hansberry was not afraid to know
is not simply whether I am willing to give up my life
but if I am prepared to give up my comfort:
clean sheets on my bed
the speed of my dishwasher
and my gas stove …
paintings I have revered stick against my walls
as unconcerned as saints …
yet not one lifeline thrown by the artist
beyond the frame
reaches the boy whose eyes were target
for a soldier’s careless aim. …” -alice walker
I love Walker by the way. Amongst one of my favorite poets.
* * *
I hope I am making the most of my time. I hoped that after school got out I could have a period of introspection, one of reading, cultivation, creation, evaluation, meditation. Sadly, today felt productive going down to Ross, actually living my one of two living spaces. I even bought two books today, one on drawing human anatomy and the other an origami enyclopedia. *laughs* Always with my paper worlds...
Drawing from what I mentioned earlier, an aspiration of mine is to learn the art of meditation. It's purpose intrigues me, stimultaneous removal and connection. You learn to concentrate on releasing independent attributions. What is it but the art of focus? The challenge focus presents is that of applied measurement.
Also I had planned to journey through a myriad of various readings. From the current book I have been eternally reading (I need to finish it) Field Notes on the Compassionate Life, selected writings of Virginia Woolf, Adrianne Rich, Emerson and Thoureau, Joseph Campbell, and Carl Jung... Much more on that list than is listed. I wanted to read up more on Rilke, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, and Mark Strand... Brush up on life's imagery...
I had hoped that this would be a period dedicated to finding my own spirituality. I look at the head way I have not made and I feel my heart - sink. Truly the only journey is one within but from where does one embark?
It's not too late, not even close to over yet. Even so, that sets off no sirens, no dramatics in the background, the soundtrack has long since been cut. This is life in the raw, life itself simply uncut.
It's what we can make of the measure...
“a woman is not a potted plant
her roots bound to the confines
of her house …
a woman is wilderness
unbounded” -alice walker
“the fundamental question about revolution
as lorraine hansberry was not afraid to know
is not simply whether I am willing to give up my life
but if I am prepared to give up my comfort:
clean sheets on my bed
the speed of my dishwasher
and my gas stove …
paintings I have revered stick against my walls
as unconcerned as saints …
yet not one lifeline thrown by the artist
beyond the frame
reaches the boy whose eyes were target
for a soldier’s careless aim. …” -alice walker
I love Walker by the way. Amongst one of my favorite poets.
* * *
I hope I am making the most of my time. I hoped that after school got out I could have a period of introspection, one of reading, cultivation, creation, evaluation, meditation. Sadly, today felt productive going down to Ross, actually living my one of two living spaces. I even bought two books today, one on drawing human anatomy and the other an origami enyclopedia. *laughs* Always with my paper worlds...
Drawing from what I mentioned earlier, an aspiration of mine is to learn the art of meditation. It's purpose intrigues me, stimultaneous removal and connection. You learn to concentrate on releasing independent attributions. What is it but the art of focus? The challenge focus presents is that of applied measurement.
Also I had planned to journey through a myriad of various readings. From the current book I have been eternally reading (I need to finish it) Field Notes on the Compassionate Life, selected writings of Virginia Woolf, Adrianne Rich, Emerson and Thoureau, Joseph Campbell, and Carl Jung... Much more on that list than is listed. I wanted to read up more on Rilke, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, and Mark Strand... Brush up on life's imagery...
I had hoped that this would be a period dedicated to finding my own spirituality. I look at the head way I have not made and I feel my heart - sink. Truly the only journey is one within but from where does one embark?
It's not too late, not even close to over yet. Even so, that sets off no sirens, no dramatics in the background, the soundtrack has long since been cut. This is life in the raw, life itself simply uncut.
It's what we can make of the measure...
amongst a gypsy
There are a few words for me, that aren't quite me but are becoming me. Transient, vagabond one could say... It takes some time to articulate. I travel about with Gypsy feet, never completely in one place.
~I'll be the girl who sings for my supper... ~
Random shreds of songs of current / lasting intrigue continue to flood over my head. I am finding a common thread to the songs I love the most as of late. That of a free spirit. That free spiritedness that is within just calls and continues to call, then simply arrives invited or not. It was one that I had left overtime by accident.
~and so here I stand, with a sword in my hand, you can say it one more time, what you don't like, have a seat while I take to the sky~
I have journeyed through my calm, but as such almost forgotten my wonder..
Parts of myself I saw flicker have newly begun to reappear. Residing here on my own has changed so much. It's about sitting in a quiet place, and asking myself what I hear... What has been heard, and what has not yet been told.
~I'll be the girl who sings for my supper... ~
Random shreds of songs of current / lasting intrigue continue to flood over my head. I am finding a common thread to the songs I love the most as of late. That of a free spirit. That free spiritedness that is within just calls and continues to call, then simply arrives invited or not. It was one that I had left overtime by accident.
~and so here I stand, with a sword in my hand, you can say it one more time, what you don't like, have a seat while I take to the sky~
I have journeyed through my calm, but as such almost forgotten my wonder..
Parts of myself I saw flicker have newly begun to reappear. Residing here on my own has changed so much. It's about sitting in a quiet place, and asking myself what I hear... What has been heard, and what has not yet been told.
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