Wanderlust and Rambling

These strange obsessions

2011-09-27T10:44:00.000-07:00

I've begun a detox program this last week. It was all sparked by an article I read in my Yoga Journal magazine. The timing also seemed right-I was fortunate enough to have the time off to go to a four day yoga retreat at the Shoshoni Ashram and really get things centered, stretched and revitalized. It's been a tough couple of weeks at work and I really needed the space to unwind and get back in tune with my body.

So now that I'm on this detox I'm realizing what a crazy, obsessive, mind I have when it comes to food. I find myself reading nutrition articles, counting down the time until I can eat lunch, wondering what I'm going to do for a snack or worrying about getting half way through my day and being, god forbid, hungry or caught unprepared.

I don't quite know this overractive relationship has come from-I know when I increased my level of activity to include quite literally all of the things I love doing my appetite increased. This is normal and I saw it as a positive adjustment to my lifestyle. My weight went down, which was a nice byproduct of ramping up my activity levels, and I felt like I started making better choices more consistantly.

I know my "food-brain" obsession is being augmented by the Detox program because I'm limited on what I can eat and I'm working on eating mindfully when I do get the opportunity. Some good things have come from this for sure; namely, I'm more aware of when I'm truly hungry and when I think I'm hungry, as well as more appreciative of the times I get to eat because I don't have the same knee-jerk freedom as I did when I wasn't trying to detox.

I'm also realizing the role that caffeine plays in my life. I knew beforehand that I was, and am, a coffee junkee. I love a good, well-brewed, cup of coffee as much as I love a delicious, dressed up, soy mocha. However, these past two days where I've gone sans coffee and sans caffeine have really brought to the forefront how much I relied on it as a form of distraction.

Not happy with what I'm doing at work? Oh, i'll just go get a cup of coffee and come back to it. Or, feeling "disconnected" from a certain project? Maybe I just need a boost and I'll be right back to my previous performance level.

I think these symptoms are actually indicative of other things-it's not that I need the coffee or the caffeine to get me through the project, it's that I need a break from what I'm doing-totally and completely-to recenter and refocus my attention.

I need to utilize the break time I have at work so I can continue to be productive and happy.

I'm hoping that as I progress in this detox and become accustomed to the eating schedule that my brain and thoughts will calm down along with my body and I will begin to relax the focus I have on food and the idea of always being full or nourished. There are other ways to get this feeling without always having to have the right snack or drink or option at my finger tips.

Hello Hello!

2011-02-10T12:09:00.000-08:00

So, everyone should go here and help us out with our awesome project!

(c:

MWA!

Und Jetz, Auf Deutsch!

2010-09-29T06:12:00.000-07:00

Maybe not exactly in German...but partially about Germany...how's that?

I rolled off the plane last week from beautiful Deutschland after being gone for twelve days with a friend of mine and I think I have more wanderlust now than I did before I left. Not the same restless, crazy "gotta go somewhere" right now sort of wanderlust that I had as I was boarding the plane but a desire to do something bigger than just a vacation.

I did just move into a snazzy new apartment so maybe that will help. We'll see what manifests in the coming months.

The trip itself was nothing short of amazing. It did all the things it was supposed to do in so many ways. My travel buddy and I hiked into the Alps and spent a night in a hut surrounded by mountains. This being the age of technology that it is, however, we were still able to update Facebook about how primitive and rustic our lodgings were....oh the irony. We also caught some of the Bavarian futbol game via iPhone from the next table over.

We also hit up Oktoberfest in Munich. No beer was had (12 Euro for a beer????) but we rode a ton of roller coasters and generally just played at the fair. And looked at all the cute girls dressed in Dirndl and all the cute boys dressed in lederhosen. No, really. They sell all the modern versions of those old time Bavarian favorites. I have to admit, some of them are really damn cute. Silly. But cute. (The dirndl's...not the Germans wearing them neccessarily. Though some of them weren't too bad either.)

Post Oktoberfest we shuffled over to Rothenburg ob der Tauber and then on to Koln to stay with a friend. We also managed, on our way into Munich, to swing by and spend an evening with the family I lived with in Stuttgart. That was a lot of fun. We had dinner and I got to chat and catch up with them which was nice. I swear this time I'm going to be better about mailing things over to that side of the pond...I have a small pile of things for Die Kinder and their mom that I need to drop in the post.

The weather was beautiful the whole time we were there which everyone said was due to dumb luck. I tend to agree with the Irish. You bring the weather with you-if you expect it to be rainy and crappy then it will be. If you don't...well you see the logic here.

The next step: trying to figure out how to study in Germany...in German...with Germans!

Ok, so I'm trend whoring a bit....just a little...

2010-08-08T12:41:00.000-07:00

I write like
David Foster Wallace

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Finding the border balance

2010-08-08T11:55:00.000-07:00

So, this week marks the second official week after the KC Fringe Festival. What a crazy ride that was for me and everyone else involved.

Last year, I participated in the Fringe Festival as a volunteer. I was shuffled from venue to venue taking tickets, seating people, learning how to tech (!!) a space for the Youth Fringe members and generally running around.

If some of you were reading this blog back then, you'll probably remember me squawking about the lack of direction and general "in chargness" that the Visual Arts Fringe portion had...well, turns out when you squawk loudly enough, you get hired! And thus began the journey of organizing and herding (yes, like cows and sheep and other various farm animals) all the Visual Artists for the Festival this year.

Mind you, I can't organize my car. I don't keep a budget. I hardly remember what day it is sometimes. But, off to organizing I was. And overall, I think (think) it turned out pretty well. I was in a constant state of panic and general frenzy the whole time but aside from the impending sense of "oh god what am I doing", it was fun and a great learning experience.

Almost all of the artists were fantastic to work with. They put in a lot of additional hours to help hang, clean and dismantle all of the odds and ends that it takes to hang 21 artists in a room that is, suddenly, not as big as you thought it was when you agreed to the venue.

There were challenges with working with that many people-there always will be-but I think I at least learned a few valuable lessons about learning to listen while still drawing boundaries around which bits people say actually matter and which don't.

I also got a taste of what it means to try and fit a bunch of egos in one place. Wow. Let me tell you, there are some people in this world who need a whole room just to contain how much they think of themselves and the work they make....not to mention the work itself!

Egads. It took a lot for me to not remind certain people that yes, you have a lot of work and no, it's not all worth hanging. In fact, I would argue that most of it was pretty pointless. Ahem. I can't say that though. Not really. At least not to most people's faces. I just don't understand people who spend more time talking about their work than they do making the stuff. It seems, in most cases, at least, that their time could be better spent.

On the other hand, we had some really good work up too. This year marked a successful turnout for artists in general. The plays were great-one of our local UMKC directors put out another stellar performance called "Head" which was a sordid, sexually charged, awesome retelling of the St. John The Baptist and Solome story. Really great. 90 minutes, straight through with no intermission and some really gritty scenes that I appreciated for the honesty above all else.

Hats off to the actors as well-they busted their asses to make that play work and will continue to bust their asses until the work is deemed finish by the director/writer.

But, back to my group. As I said, we had some really great artists show this year. It makes me very excited for who is going to return and who will come out of the woodwork for next year. If we can continue to blast the quality of artists through the atmosphere like we did this year-we'll be well on our way to being taken seriously in this Festival. "Beginner gains" though can be deceptive. As the quality goes up it'll get harder and harder to out do ourselves from year to year. It's that sort of catch 22 that lets you rocket to a good middle ground but then simultaneously lose and gain ground as you try to break into the "Really Good" category. The ever elusive box called "Successful."

For those of you who aren't familiar with Fringe or the theories behind it, you can go here: www.kcfringe.org and check out the "what's the fringe" page. It gives you a brief background and history on how the Fringe got its start.

Other cities also put on some really fantastic Fringes of their own-Minneapolis and Boulder are just two examples that come to mind. I'm hoping to go out there one of these days and see how they do it-but for now I"ll have to entertain myself with their websites and learn everything I can from talking to positively everyone I can to learn as much as I can between now and next year.

And yes, that means learning how to listen to those people who have been around long enough to build up giant egos and may not make the kind of art that I would make or do make (hopefully) but who have some invaluable experience and connections that make the overall experience of Fringe richer and more....possible.

I'll have pictures of this experience up shortly I do believe. I just have to bring myself to go through all of them. (c:

Masters, Margaritas and Demanding People

2010-04-10T23:26:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the long hiatus. I've been..well...busy. (c:

The life of an artist is never dull I guess. I've had projects and things like my real job trying to drown me.

I should learn how to say no.

I have found time to read some outstanding books, though. That's a plus. I've been turned onto some Russian literature by a co-worker of mine and it's really fantastic. This particular co-worker is actually Russian so I've been able to go directly to a source and say "what is this referencing?" It's been great.

My first venture into this wide world of wonderful stories was called "The Master and Margarita." It's by Mikhail Bulgakov. Once I got into the flow of things and figured out who everyone was and what all their nicknames and professional names and surnames and the such were, I found the story to be really engaging. It's a politically charged near satire of 1930's Russia. Sort of. And a love story. And a commentary on what it means to be creative. And philosophical. And spiritual.

There are a handful of main characters, one of which is Satan. The Devil himself shows up in Moscow on a spring day and begins to wreak havoc in a very distracting and anti-theme of the times way. (What's not to love already?!?)

The tone is at times deadly serious but there is always a subtle undercurrent of irony. The book is divided into two sections: the first deals with one of the main characters (not Satan) named Ivan Ivanovich who is a writer. The second deals with Margarita-a woman who has fallen in love with a man who calls himself The Master. The Master was/is a writer and has written a book on Pontius Pilot. It causes him to fall out of favor with the government and gets him committed to an insane asylum. Meanwhile, Ivanovich's tale begins with him as he witnesses the death of his friend, Berlioz, (which was prophesied to happen by the Devil himself during a conversation in a park) and sort of goes off the deep end. Ivanovich ends up in the same looney bin as The Master. It's a beautiful commentary on what it means to be "insane" in a time when freedom was a dirty word. Mix all this in with the "real time" telling of the events surrounding Pontius Pilot(pitched at times as part of the manuscript The Master wrote and at times as current day events) and a prophet named Yeshua as well as a very intense demonic ball towards the end of the story and you have an experience that is unlike anything I've read all wrapped up with a cleverly designed cover.

Reading The Master and Margarita and then trying to explain it is a bit like trying to talk about a dream that you had three years ago but that you still have vivid recollections of...or like trying to explain what exactly it is you're seeing when you catch something out of the corner of your eye but isn't actually there when you turn around.

All of those things cause very real, emotional memories and the general sense of an "experience" but when you have to find words to give light and structure and concreteness to them, they begin to vaporize. I could give a very long and drawn out plot synopsis but it would ruin the story while simultaneously completely failing at conveying what the story is "about".

It's a book where what it's about is not just related to the story that is being told. It's about the experience of the book. It's about all the things that were going on historically when the book was written. It's about the fact that-to quote the book-"handwritten manuscripts don't burn"-which in an age of nothing but propaganda (both now and then) is such a beautiful thought that it could make me cry if I thought about it long enough. The character that says it in the book makes it all the more powerful of a statement.

My second venture into Russian literature is Boris Pasternak's "Dr. Zhivago". I tried to read this book once, when I was 14, and it went straight over my head. I'm thrilled to have the chance to settle into it this time though, now that I'm more prepared. Russian literature isn't something you just sort of accidentally read.

Here's a random tidbit. I got interested in The Master and Margarita through a play that was put on by the grad students at UMKC. My first experience with Dr. Zhivago was the movie with Omar Shariff (spelling?) and Julie Christie. I'm named after her character-I'm excited to see how the book tells their story versus what Hollywood did with it. I can already tell that things are going to be very different.

The demanding people mentioned in this post's title are managing to pull me away from all this great reading (which hasn't just included Russian lit but also some really great, fun, entirely indulgent fantasy novels I've been reading) and it's beginning to grate.

I get that as someone who is trying to make an established name for themselves and their work that you have to take on projects to gain experience. My beef comes in when people pitch a project to you, drag their feet for 5 months (5!!!), and then suddenly crack down with demands of an expected due date. Oh, and did I mention they have started telling everyone but you, their designer, that they have all sorts of functionality expectations? The poor messenger that's been working with me directly on the project is not really to blame for any of this poor planning...but it's still just a crock.

The thing that really kills me is how little compensation is involved. If they were paying me like a standard client would pay me, I could see them getting a little demanding. But they aren't. They aren't even close. I was fine with this until now. Augh. Pft.

To end on a less gripe-y note: I am the Visual Arts Director for the KC Fringe Festival this year. I'm excited about all the potential and new endeavors! I've got a long "To Do" list for it but I think I can knock a good portion of the really important stuff out in a few concerted hours of work.

Well-it's late. As always. And the weather has been beautiful and I got new road bike cleats and shoes today and I intend to go a-riding. Clear out some of the stress and insanity that keeps trying to accrue like debt and plaque in my brain.

...Post Thanksgiving

2009-11-27T09:27:00.001-08:00

It's true that all good things must come to an end. Luckily, so does bad sex.

Just one of those little things in life to be thankful for.

Truly though, it sort of makes you wonder how some people in the world manage to have any fun at all.

Anyway-as we all finish wiping the last of the turkey grease from our fingers, and make yet another turkey-cranberry-stuffing sandwich, I want to know, what things are you thankful for this year? It can be anything. Serious or not. But I'm curious-the goal being to try and avoid too many Hallmark Card slogans or catch phrases.

Some of the things that I've been reflecting on lately:

1. See above.

2. The random people in life who make me laugh and smile-like this kid dressed up in blue jeans, a random Christmas T-Shirt, Santa hat and furry hood thing...sucking on a sucker, holding an empty plastic cup waiting for her dad....and it's 60 degrees outside! (c: I love it. Makes me smile.

3. Dancing to some reggae music that I never would have discovered on my own with a friend last night after some very wonderful conversation. What better way to spend Thanksgiving Night than grooving to some great music in a random little dive bar with a friend? Awesome.

4. Ridiculous blogs that are all about weird, quirky, material that if it weren't for the internet would never see the light of day.

5. My family (cue the Hallmark Home Classic muzak..) but getting to spend time with my dad, without having to invite myself over for Thanksgiving, was really nice. We ate, we talked, I played with the kids (though according to them they were totally ignored) and watched the Cowboys stomp the Raiders. Which doesn't give me too much joy because I hate the Cowboys almost as much as I hate the Raiders but whatever. Someone had to win. The Bronco's did win however, which makes me very happy!

6. The unexpected text message that comes through at the moment when you really, really need reminding who matters in your life and who doesn't. I'm learning on recognizing when The Great Ether is trying to tell me something...at least that's the goal...it's hard to learn how to listen when you've spent most of your life with your fingers shoved in your ears (la la la style).

7. Beautiful, glorious sunshine in which I can ride my road bike. In November!

8. Days spent lounging with a friend, talking about creativity and painting and all that good stuff...even if we never actually got the act of painting. The conversation is sometimes just as important.

9. My Job. I have one. It's real. I pays me consistent money and it allows me time to work on all those projects and things that have been building up. If standing from rooftops screaming about how wonderful it is to work at a place that actually utilizes my strengths wouldn't get me arrested or committed, I'd do it.

10. And finally-though not least importantly-the people in my life that I can call "Friend." The past year was quite a rollercoaster ride-lots of those buzz words like "growth" and "learning" came into play. I hope that this year I can begin to repay all the people who shared what they had with me.

I should be sleeping...

2009-10-11T21:25:00.000-07:00

but I'm posting instead! W00t. hehe. I start the new job tomorrow morning-I'm excited. I've already done all my little wacky things-like figure out what I'm wearing and set up the coffee pot so I just have to hit "go"...and now i"m sitting here staring at my blog.

Hm..

I did some meditation tonight-It's been one of my goals to get back into it-mainly because it does wonders while I'm in the waking world.

It's not just soothing and relaxing and all of that. It's baring and revealing and when I'm "on" I find that I can learn things about myself that I wasn't really aware of. It's sort of spooky sometimes.

I've been thinking a lot about the ideas and value structures I read about in Robert Pirsig's book. There's also a friend of mine who talks a lot about self betterment and the idea of personal growth. Some people either have it or they don't.

Which may sound a bit harsh, but really. I really believe that you're either in this life to make the most of it and learn how you can improve or you're not...and it's not always intentional. I don't think that many people really make the choice to stay in their one facet of life.

I think a lot of it has to do with a person's basic upbringing-what they were exposed to when they were little. And, it whether or not they were encouraged to be curious as a kid. This isn't always true-people in my family that I know had perfectly good opportunities to explore and be creative and learn new things and they adamantly refused and continue to refuse not to take them.

You compare that to some of the people in the world who literally came from nothing but knew that there had to be something else out there and it makes me a little bit angry. There's something to be said for shaping your situations into something that can help you grow.

I had a conversation with someone the other night...and it about made me crazy. This person tries so hard to argue with me for studying about the things that I"m interested in, or pursuing the random stuff that I do. They live their life based in paranoia about what might happen or what could happen or what they think is bound to happen instead of actually going through and finding out what the reality is.

More specifically-because of their own fear of the unknown (which is a lot in their world) anything and everything I suggest absolutely just has to be wrong or bad or misguided.

The book Lila talks about this. People who suffer from a non dynamic, low Quality life fight like hell against those people who are aiming for Dynamic Quality. Robert Pirsig explains all of this in pretty good detail and he has a lot of points but the things that stick out to me are that the life we live and the environment that we live in is fluid. It's always changing. This sounds like a pretty obvious statement but when you really think about it, it's pretty mind blowing. The idea that because everything is always in motion, and assuming as he does that, that motion is trying to move towards a higher state of Quality or Value, gives a whole new perspective to some things.

Your day to day life becomes about the fluidity of the moment and the idea of progressing towards something. Instead of moving away from the past, which people always tend to glorify, you are moving towards the future. Instead of moving away from what you used to believe or feel or know and suffering a loss for it, you are moving towards a new understanding of things, a new value structure, etc.

The idea, of course, is that in moving forward you really are moving towards something that has a higher level of Quality or Value (you'll have to either read the book, google it or wait for me to try and explain it all later if you're curious what he means by this) and not the other way around but one of the main tenets of the book that I got is that forward motion is positive motion. It's when you begin to stagnate or regress that you start having problems.

One of the major flaws that I find in the book is that he makes some pretty grandiose blanket statements, but that's also one of the "charms" I guess. There are a lot of things that I don't really agree with or, more specifically, that have changed a lot since the book was written but overall it's a great book to start generating ideas.

All of this was sort of vaguely floating around in the void while I was trying to meditate. Tonight was not one of the more stellar moments-I feel like a car that has been sitting in the driveway too long. It'll start but you have to really convince it.

My mind was all over the place for one thing (sort of like this post) and I kept having to bring it back to just breathing to get back in the moment. And sometimes, that was a struggle. I sort of had to laugh at myself at one point. I was supposed to be counting my breaths and before I realized it I had forgotten where I was at and was thinking about the fact that I need to change my air filter and how much it's going to stink because it's raining and cold out right now and tomorrow isn't promising to be much better.

'cause that's related to meditation. Ahem.

Anyway-I'm not trying to say that I've got some lofty, super clever goals and methods and that I'm working my way towards self betterment. I'm don't-I feel like I"m making a decent effort but I have eons and eons of work ahead of me before I really have any right to start telling other people what they should or should not be doing.

I just don't always know how to handle it when someone is so aggressively 'Anti Learning'- about different things or places or trying random stuff that has no real relevance to the greater schemes in life but that are fun or novel or whatever.

I dunno-I should probably be more concerned with getting some actual sleep tonight. I'm going to have to get up early for once tomorrow and, well, sleep is sort of helpful for that. :D

Lots of random stuff on my mind.

Lots of good things

2009-10-06T10:50:00.000-07:00

The weather has been beautiful, I've finished a few really great books (I think some of which I alluded to in a previous post but which I fully intend to write more about later) and, almost trumping all of that, I got a job. Like, a real job that pays money and has benefits and all those good things.

I'm sort of excited. I think it's going to be a really good fit.

And, on the art scene, things have been going well too! It's the really fun, twisty turn down part of the roller coaster ride I think hehe. Good times. I got to get back into the swing of First Fridays on October 2nd for a friend's show (his site is here) and I practically sold out of jewelry stuff. I had to keep arranging the table to make it look like I still had inventory. It was mainly necklaces that were selling. People were all about it for some reason. Exciting. (c:

I also talked to the gallery owners and there's a potential I could have my own real show in their space in the future. Which would be great because really, I am overdue for a real gallery space I think. Personally speaking and all. I might be biased.

I've also decided that I need to devote some more time to writing. I've fallen out of the habit of writing much of anything so I sat down the other night and went back to talk to some of my characters. Happily enough, the fact that it's been rolling around in my subconscious since I started it means that the doors had not been sealed shut with super glue so I think there's a good chance for some development.

I had a few stunning realizations too-one, there was a huge logic flaw that i need to figure out before I can really progress the story. I started asking myself questions about my "bad guys" (thank you Tim) and I realized that there's this whole chunk of information that I've just sort of been glossing over that is extremely relevant. It may not make it into the actual story but I need to know how it happened so I can move forward.

And-I realized that I had completely neglected one of my main, integral characters...she's not exactly the protagonist but we need to care about her and i couldn't even tell you what she looked like two days ago. Sort of astonishing if you think about it really. My story has a big cast, which is a challenge and sort of interesting at the same time, and could be dangerous territory and I guess she got lost. Which is bad. The others I have all this great information for, and she always got swept under the rug I guess...whoops.

Finally, I think the biggest realization I had is that a lot of the stuff I wasn't writing or haven't been writing is the stuff that my character is supposed to be working through and dealing with-which are very important to me and I hadn't reached the point where I could actually write about them yet because I didn't understand them. I've since had some time to think some of these things through and process them and I guess I feel more prepared now to try and associate them with a character and her perspective.

Writing is one of those things where because your life is part of the material you pull from, if you're not comfortable with certain emotions or subjects, I feel like you can't always accurately write characters that are comfortable with those emotions or subjects. Not that you have to have lived every experience of your characters life-they are characters, not carbon copies of you, but I think for some of the bigger emotions, it's hard to write an interesting perspective if you've never had any experience or spent much time thinking about or working through your own perspectives first....

hopefully that makes sense cause I think I just confused myself. (c:

On a random note-people are so interesting. There is a well dressed business guy who is working on some paper or another...and he brought a sack lunch with him. We're in a coffee shop....but he brought his lunch. It's sort of funny. The owners here are really cool and I've done things like that before too but it's funny watching him unwrap his sandwich and eat his chips that obviously were not purchased here...oh wait...he's ordering something....cherry pie! (c: Ok, so at least he's being a patron now instead of just sort of enjoying the music and the view for free hehe.

People are strange. But I guess if they're cool with it-why not be economical. And they do have good pie. Mmmm....pie.

Alrighty-I've got to step away from the internet and go do a few things that I've been neglecting because of everything else.

Oh yeah, and I"m almost finished with my transcription training! I passed the mid-term exam for it with a pretty good score and I'm working my way through the last seven lessons. w00t!

For those who think I talk too much...

2009-09-12T10:25:00.000-07:00

go look at new stuff on my website! (c:

www.unravelledonline.com

the arrows actually point to something new and interesting now! Happy clicking...(go peek in Painting (at the end of the second section) and Jewelry for most of the new stuff...)

Just passing through....

2009-09-12T08:49:00.000-07:00

So I went back to the source to see what sparked the response I found on Full Throttle and F**k It: Losing It

It got me thinking, which is always a good thing and I think I have to post. For those of you who would rather just have me tell you what the original post was about, too bad! Go read those two really great blogs! I'll wait........

done yet?

Alrighty...

I think I have to beg to differ on some of this and I have to offer a "new" idea or two of my own.

Creative folks like to talk about "it"- the magic, the thing that keeps them going, their muses, etc. They (we?) talk about it like it's a tangible, concrete object that we've somehow inherited or found lying in the gutter. We look at it like it's a big secret that only a select few of us have managed to find...and then when they lose "it" they either hang up the brushes, or they put up the pens or walk away from their novel or whatever. Some of the more attention starved ones choose to openly mope about how they used to be this or that and some tend to go sit quietly in a corner and wait it out and some choose to kill themselves.

So this is where I start to get a little...argumentative.

I don't think that there is a magic inherent to artists-at least not in the sense that most people consider. I think it comes down to something more universal-perhaps passion, or perspective. I say passion because a person without at least a shred of passion could very easily fall into the same holding patterns as all these artists who chose to end their lives early. Any person, mind you, without at least some interest in what the next day holds, or what the next month holds or the next minute holds, can find themselves considering some pretty drastic measures, just to shake things up a bit. People express their passion or at least interest in life in lots of different ways, some creatively, some not. We're all familiar with this-you dress a certain way, you order a decadent dessert just for the fun of it, you go on vacation to a place you love or a place you've never been, etc. etc.

Some people choose to paint. Or write. Or draw. Or sing. Or write music. They choose to express their passion or interest or opinions in things/life in a more direct way. I argue that it's when they become jaded towards their life or their environment that they begin to think they've lost the ephemeral creative "it".

You see it all the time. Artists stop creating because they stop caring. It happens to people all the time, it's just more noticeable by the time you've gotten famous enough to see your name in print, in lights or on an award or two here and there. It's also different because when you break through the fourth wall the exists between those who are famous and those who are not, everyone has an opinion on what you're doing. So if you have a bad day or year or month and you put work out anyway and it doesn't jive with the perception of what your work should be, people start to accuse you of losing "it" when really, maybe you just didn't care about the flowers as much this year as you did last year for whatever reason.

So let's say an artist stops caring and therefore stops creating. They haven't lost the spark that makes them creative, or talented. They could still sit down and draw the pants off anyone that challenges them probably, or outsing the best contestant on American Idol (idle...) or whatever-but they don't. Because they're over it.

Sometimes this can feel like they've lost their spark when really they're just bored. Thinking of the magical, artistic "it" lets people off the hook-it makes it seem like they have some special vision that makes the world more interesting or more exciting to them-so much that they just have to sit down and paint a picture of it in an attempt to convey that magic. I think the reality is that staying engaged in life enough to where things really do seem that intriguing takes work. Lots of work.

It's the same problem most adults have I think-you look at kids and most things are new and exciting because well, they haven't lived long enough to figure out the tricks behind the magic-as adults we come to expect certain things-cause and effect. Beautiful sunsets, etc. If those things are going to remain surprising and engaging, we have to choose to treat them as though they are new and exciting and different. It takes a great deal of effort sometimes I think to remind ourselves to stay engaged. Whether that means that we're going to wake up every morning and just make an effort or whether that means we're going to wake up and sit down at our respective Muse Centrals and "do" something with what we see or feel, is entirely up to us.

The other thing that you need to consider is that people have different desires to do things. I'll use my friends as examples. I have friends who are artists and friends who are creative and friends who are practical and all these things....each one of them is plugged in and engaged in life-they just desire to express that connection differently than, say, me. So some of us choose to paint and play with silks because we get really excited about the colors of the sunset last week-some of them choose to sit down and code some really complex computer languages because they just care how things work. But we're all plugged in to life. If my computer coding friends woke up one morning and suddenly didn't give a damn, they wouldn't lament that they had lost their ability to create code. They wouldn't think of it as having lost their "it". They would probably either relax and wait until something new developed technologically that got them excited or they would go back and revisit some of their older stuff to see if they could make it better or whatever.

Two more points and then I'll move on I promise:

One of the points that Steve brought up (which you all know 'cause you read his post...ahem. (c: ), is that perhaps Hemingway should have waited it out, spent less time concerning himself with what was, etc. etc. I couldn't agree more, but I think it has to do with social context. At the time that Hemingway and Jack London and all them were having their breakdowns, it wasn't socially acceptable to talk about your feelings, really (maybe moreso with Jack London's time, but he was a notorious drunk who, I think, personally, just got lucky...and wasn't real stable to begin with..), and I don't think the same essential skills of socially taking a break, or working through a tough period, etc. etc. had been instilled.

I'm reading "Lila" right now by Robert Pirsig and he talks about how the rebels following the Victorian era who were against all the stuffy reason, logic, manners and pomp of the times were able to rebel against it without any negative impacts on the overall society because they had been raised with an inherent social structure. They had a certain level of moral quality (his words, not mine) instilled in them and therefore the overall societal structure didn't suffer because of their personal rebellion. So fast forward to today-we have all that inherent, societal "talk it out", "processing," "closure", "becoming more centered" , dialogue programmed into us, whether we want it or not really, and therefore are better equipped to just wait out the tough periods, or change our focus, etc...Picasso didn't have that luxury. And he was clinically insane, without the same level of coping or medical help available to those of us today, so societally I think the odds were against these guys being able to work through their ennui.

Or perhaps they really were just sparks of genius that have gone out of existance. I don't know.

In the case of Johnny Cash, I think he was fortunate enough to live through the time periods that dicatated that you made it big and then you faded away-and he was blessed with enough internal flexibility to recognize the opportunities he had when he had them. He went back to what he cared about-the guitar and the lyrics and the music and the act of doing what he did. It stopped becoming about what his previous songs had become and kept being about what he was probably chasing to begin with-the passion for playing the guitar.

I could be wrong-there is such a thing as doing things purely because you are an opportunist and you're blessed with the talent to pull some things off better than others and there ya go, paycheck at the end, a little bit of fame, some comback action and your equation for success is completed. But I prefer to think that some of the really ingenious, creative people out there, aren't quite that....corporate...in their creations.

So, to bring all this to an end-talent will carry you a long ways, so will love of fame and the desire to be the center of attention-but when it comes down to it, you have to care about what you're doing and that takes work. It's a lifestyle and not an "it" that is always out of reach or always threatening to dissappear. You either have the drive to keep caring or you don't.

It's the whole "the unexamined life is not worth living" thing-you have to care enough to peek under the rock and let that curiosity drive you to express what you see in whatever way comes naturally.

I'll put my soapbox away for now.

Oh my

2009-08-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

it's been a while hasn't it?

I don't have internet at my house so it makes posting into the wee hours a bit more difficult. Anyway-I'm sitting at the office right now working on some things for tomorrow morning and it occurred to me that while I'm here I could be posting. I'm printing and I've got everything queued up for the next round-just have to wait for technology to do its thang.

The Fringe Festival was a success I do believe-there was some confusion and a lot of improv and required flexibility but I sold lots of jewelry (almost 400 dollars!) and I got to show some new work and stuff like that...always a plus. I also had some jewelry on display for the fashion show this year which was pretty cool. I had a good time too-there were a lot of cool people and despite having to sell jewelry in the parking lot of the venue instead of inside where we all thought we were going to be set up...(as I said, mandatory flexibility) things went well. I had a fantastic designer next to me who not only let me borrow one of their lights so people could actually see what they were shopping for but let me run around in the most gorgeous little shrug I've ever seen for the whole night. Hehe. It was a good time. There was 3 dollar Boulevard beer which was awesome and overall, it worked out pretty well.

I may have found myself a position on the visual arts committee for next years Fringe too...oops. I talk a lot and I have lots of opinions which is not always a good thing I know, but whatever. It needed to work better and I think I could help with that. The kid they had doing it this year got bombarded with two different equally demanding jobs for the Festival and on top of all that, he was getting his ass chewed for not having any information to really give to the artists. So yeah, it needs to have a seperate person in charge. Visual artists-we can be hard to work with, ya know...(c:

I also managed to get the show up at Black Dog Coffee Shop set up. Phew. That was a crazy dash. Remind me to have "spare art" on hand so next time I can just hang stuff and not have to do everything from scratch. Oy.

In other news-been getting some good freelance projects here and there which is good. You can check out my latest creation at: www.maxfearingart.com It's a site I did for a friend of mine who is a local artist. We're trying to get him some web recognition. It's getting there-currently it's a work in progress still but it's on its way. I also did a little bit of work for another friend of mine that I work with....jewelry commissions have been coming in since the Fringe as well. Not enough to pay the bills or buy the totally adorable, must have building that I want in Parkville but ya know. I'll take what I can get. If anyone wins the Powerball and wants to buy me a storefront, you know where to find me. (c:

I'm heading out to Colorado in September to go mountain biking with my boyfriend. It should be a lot of fun. There's a beer fest going on in downtown Denver too that we're going to hit up. That'll be a nice cap to our week out in the mountains camping and biking. Hopefully I don't actually kill myself hehe. We've been going out to a place called Landahl Park in Blue Springs, MO lately that has some really good mountain bike type trails. I know, I live in Kansas, there are no mountains, but this place does a really good job. All naturally cut trails that have lots of technical sections and lots of cool stuff to ride. I dig it a lot. I got a little banged up this weekend but no real battle scars. I was sort of disappointed. (c:

The weather has been crazy hot. I swear God was trying to come through my window last night....it was actually some severe lightening. I really did think that the generator outside my window had been struck....scared me half to death. Today was beautiful-I guess it got all of it out of its system.

Alrighty. Not much else at the moment to really report per se. Just trying to get as much playing outside done as possible as of late. (c: And spending lots of time at the coffee shop trying to get some things finished up so I can free up my time and maybe take on a real project here and there.

I've been reading lately too but that's another post all by itself. It will give me some incentive to post more regularly if I leave it for later. hehe. Hopefully at least.

A breath of fresh air

2009-05-15T13:25:00.000-07:00

It's seriously trying to dump a tornado on us right now I think. Gotta love the midwest.

So I'm posting for a multitude of reasons...one-it's been forever and I thought it'd be nice to take a minute and drop a post.

two-I'm trying pimp this site-I've got my web hosting through them and if anyone you know needs webhosting for cheap, have them click this link for me...it's like a referral program thingie. Shamless. Shameless.

http://www.logicweb.com/56.html

Thirdly-I've got lots of random things going on at the moment.

I'm working on stuff for the upcoming Fringe Festival in July still..sadly nothing has really surfaced as far as work...it's a process and I'm trying to learn not to force things. I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself lately to make all this great, moving work about my year off and all that and frankly, not much is coming to me...the things I"m thinking about are related but I'm not sure how to let the viewers know that...or if it matters....I dunno. It's weird. I"m trying to avoid just doing some nice abstracts that are some open to interpretation that you could throw a dart at a "What's This Painting About" board and so long as you hit something, you'd be right...

I've also been thinking about another book...which I know is just one more thing, but I already know it would be easier to write...because it'd be true. And I'm a much better non fiction, this is what already happened and now I'm telling you a story about it sort of writer than I am a from scratch fiction writer...

I am still working on my novel though. Just not right now. Ahem. I know. I know.

I've been reading some great books lately too....I'll do a post on them later. I promise. ;-)

I'm glad that it's the weekend, that's all I can say. Work has been dead lately with summer break and all so I've been pantsing it....should be interesting over the next few months. (c:

I did get up some balls and go audition for the 2009/2010 season with The Unicorn Theatre and The Coterie...I'm really hoping I get cast for some of the projects. I'm stoked about this one in particular-and they're paid positions. Like, real money. Do you know how exciting that is? Hehe.

I'm throwing around some ideas about getting some different types of "padding" for my resume, some type of business logic certifications or something. I dunno. I'm no tech anything but I could definitely find something out there that would play to my strengths and get certified in it..hehe. Sadly "people skills" isn't a certification.

Anyway-I have to scoot for now but I'll keep things updated more often I'm hoping. I've got a few projects that I should be able to show off in the near future too.

The goings on....

2009-03-25T19:07:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I realize it's been a while since I've blogged anything. I slacked off. I'm sorry. Things have been busy around here though and I find myself with a few moments of calm to catch some things up. It's almost disconcerting to have nothing to do at the moment, I've gotten quite used to running around from place to place only about five minutes ahead of where I should be. Nuts stuff.

So-I've moved into my own place. I have no furniture except for a computer desk and a small table that I recently acquired to put my TV on...I don't have anything to watch on the TV yet but I have a DVD player and somewhere I have movies so life shall continue. I also have a coffee table that I painted turquoise and added cherry blossoms to...I think it looks smashing (c:

I've also found a second job, which is going fine if a bit scattered at the moment. I enjoy the work that I've got to do, if I can pin people down long enough to get the details and the resources so I can move forward with my projects.

I've also been doing a lot creatively...kinda....not really my own work, but I've been getting some small projects here and there which has been a nice buffer to my meager funds hehe. I am still a Mad Scientist happily enough and I'm going to be looking into a puppeteering job. Good times.

I also got cast recently in a one act play that is being produced as part of a fundraiser for Kansas City's upcoming Fringe Festival. (It's a big art festival that runs for a week where all the edgier and more indy artists can come and get some representation and have a lot of fun.). So rehearsals have been keeping me busy. I'm excited about the role though, I've been meaning to get back on stage for a while now and I found my opportunity to do it. The performance is April 18th.

I'm also going to be exhibiting work in the Fringe Festival so I've been trying to get ready for that though right now I seem to be more obsessed with finishing some of the books I've started instead of sitting down to paint. I'm still in the brainstorming stage as far as all that goes.

Finally...( I wasn't kidding when I said I had a lot going on..) I'm going to be attempting my demonstration in my martial arts class. I want to get my next rank really badly and I'm going to go for it next Tuesday I think. I"m not really nervous as it stands right now but I'm sure that could change. I"m trying not to psyche myself out or anything-I just want to get up there and do a good job and give it a good effort. If I fail, whatever, I can try again.

I'm hoping to be able to sit down and blog about some of the books I've finished and will soon finish, they've been really good and really influential I think as far as some of my ideas for my upcoming show at The Fringe. I titled the show "Wanderlust" because I've been wanting to sit down and focus some of my artistic energy towards exploring the deeper emotions and experience behind the traveling I did.

And I'm already planning the next trip hehe...I'm not sure how it's all going to work out financially but if I can find a freelance job to work that doesn't require me to be anywhere in particular I can work and still make some money I figure while I'm gone. (c: It wouldn't be for more than two weeks or so this time, my friend Jen and I are aiming to take a short trip before she starts grad school. We're trying to get to Scotland. It may be worth it to work on finding a ride from here to NYC and then flying out of there R/T since flights have been quite reasonable lately.

Also, you never know, I could get lucky and make a bunch of money at the festival-I'm going to be selling jewelry at the fashion show (which'll be a good place to try out some new design ideas I've been having I think) and hopefully sell some work. We shall see.

I'm also waiting to hear about the art grant I applied for and I"m keeping my eyes peeled for some other ones that may pop up. I met a grant writer the other day so I'm hoping to turn that into a great resource so I can learn how to write better proposals.

Anyway-that's about all for now, I"m going to go sit with my blank canvases and see what comes out. I had bellydancing over at my house tonight which was great and it got some good creative energy flowing.

So far, I'm in the process of fulfilling some of my promises for myself: I've had people over to my house to do creative things, I"ve danced in my home and I'm working on getting some unique pieces of furniture or the imitation there of to make it feel more like my space.

If I keep this up, I won't want to leave. (c:

Holy God this crap is funny. :D

2009-03-22T11:01:00.000-07:00

Yes...I'm sure the people at the coffee shop really think I'm crazy now because I'm sitting here snickering and grinning like a drunkard at an AA meeting.

ahem.

Thank you Steve for sharing this...here are my favorites from the "50 reasons why they don't want to publish your first book" list.

31. There’s a fine line between writing authentic regional dialogue and making all of your characters sound like stroke victims.

36. God may have told you to write this book, but he didn’t tell you how to give it a decent ending.

27. You know the talented creative writing professor who told you your work showed so much creativity and promise? Turns out what he really meant was that he wanted you to blow him.

24. The alternative-history genre has lost its appeal. Everyone knows it doesn’t matter what else would have happened if the South won the Civil War and the Nazis won WWII: George W. Bush would still have been elected president.

22. You know the part where the protagonist stuffs those puppies into the wood chipper? It’s not quite as funny as you seem to think.

Oh boy. That was fun.

Anyway-I'm going back into my cubby hole.

And then the snow came crashing down the mountain

2009-01-29T16:40:00.001-08:00

I'm there. Standing at the edge of a pending avalanche, waiting to see if I get lucky and find an air pocket or if I'm just going to drown under the weight of 1000's of pounds of snow and try again in a new form when Spring comes.

I read a study the other day that said that people who are out of their 20's focus on the Now more often than the Future and that they are happier for it.

I'm not sure whether I agree or disagree but I know that I am clinging to Now with my fingernails. I am not happier. But, my Now is collapsing as I speak so I release myself from guilt and regret about not seeing the proverbial sunny side.

For all my desires and daydreaming, I demand stability in some form or another. Right now, I just have vertigo.

I write this and I'm fighting myself-things seem very trivial when you put them in print form-I don't know why I put these things in public spaces but I have always been this way. Give me a stage and I will tell you more details than are necessary.

The number one thing Americans are obsessed with is money and while it's really easy to ignore when you have it, the absence of it can drive people into tail spins. I'm also there. I have run out of creative ways to dodge the oncoming train. Just hit me and get it over with. I have spent the past four days blanketing Kansas City in job applications. All to places that are "accepting applications" which is corporate bullshit for "We're not hiring".

I've got a funeral that I'm supposed to attend next week (found this out on Tuesday)...this not only translates to the standard set of emotions and processing that comes with funerals and the passing of someone that has been part of your life for a very long time...but also with the overarching question of "how am I going to afford to get there?" And....not even as simple as that!

If I could turn into a singular cell instead of many and commit cytokinesis I would.

The weekend of the funeral is also the weekend I"m supposed to take a family member to get gum surgery, teach the second week of a brand new after school program with my job, and sell jewelry at First Fridays which would enable me to pay my bills for the month of February.

Oh, and there's a job fair that I was told I should attend if I was serious about being hired by a particular retail store. All on that same day.

Additionally-the part time job that I thought I was hired for...the one I technically AM hired for has committed the most heinous acts of unprofessional business management I've seen to date. I'm trying to get approved for an apartment and I need a letter from them stating how many hours I will work and what wage I'll be making...I called. She put me on hold for-count them-9 minutes, never came back, never called me back and is now away at a conference until SATURDAY. What morons am I trying to work for exactly?

I thought I had found the perfect solution to my want of a part time job the other day. Too bad I'm not fluent in Corporate and instead just make an ass out of myself. I don't know why I bothered.

All of this is swirling around the core of me-the one that knows that the power of intention really does work and that if I don't get my head out of my ass I will be running from The Nothing (sans Luck Dragon) for the rest of my 20's at least and that I really do just need to take a deep breath and wait because something will surface.

I won't say I've hit bottom because I haven't. Things can always get worse. I have been at the bottom and this is not what it feels like but right now, the snow is falling heavily and I am afraid that if I breathe too hard everything will disintegrate and there will be no resolution.

I know the sun has to be out there somewhere.

Fun was had (c:

2009-01-26T19:49:00.000-08:00

So, I did the dinner party thing on Saturday. I think overall it was a success. I managed to feed 9 people instead of 12 but it was still a lot of fun and work and I loved it. I learned how to skin and cut up a whole chicken (twice!), I got to play with garam masala which I had never bought before and I successfully oven roasted chicken without making it all dried out and stuff. I was pretty happy.

We ended up renting a movie called Saawaraya or something. It was really pretty but we were all fairly engaged in talking and hanging out so it turned into Bollywood Mystery Science Theatre 3000 style hehe. We were providing our own dialogue. It was fun. A few of us actually watched the movie and really enjoyed it. I've got it for another week so I'm going to sit down and watch it for real one of these afternoons.

We all sat on the floor and though some of us ate with bread we did end up keeping the forks. I delegated several tasks out to some of my friends-I had one bring a salad, one bring some rice, another brought mango lassi and another friend brought dessert and various wine and stuff to drink.

I made Tandoori chicken (though I thought it was more orange...I'm thinking my spice proportions got a bit off when I started multiplying by 3...) but it was really yummy...

Indian spiced eggplant which wasn't quite as crispy as I wanted but it tasted good

Grilled veggies over saffron rice (I cheated and bought the packaged stuff...)

and, finally, Spinach and Chickpeas.

I went out apartment hunting again on Saturday and found a place that I think I can turn into an alright space for me. It's big, has an area that is supposed to be for a dining room but that I am going to turn into my artist studio corner, a patio (can we say outdoor dining room? Summer here I come...), a decent sized living room and a really big bedroom which is exciting.

The bathroom is really cool too-there's a seperate vanity space and a decent sized, well organized bathroom bathroom with a tub and shower combo. So w00t. Now I"m just waiting to see if I get approved. I'm not making a ton of money right now but I think I'll just pass the requirements. And, I'm looking for a part time morning gig...I'm thinking I can always go wait tables somewhere for a bit until I find something a bit more satisfying. My problem is I'm bad at quitting.

That all being said...I don't have a ton of stuff left to report. I'm coasting creatively again for the moment. I cleaned my room and I'm sort of basking in the open floor space before I dig it all out again and work on some paintings. Though I do have some ideas.

I'm actually considering...gasp...working with more kids. I know. I thought I'd never utter that sentence but if I'm really honest about it, I like playing. And playing usually equates to working with kids. Ah well.

I started teaching the Secret Agent Lab kits today for Mad Science. Totally fun stuff. We got to do burn tests with fibers and learn about hydrophobic fabrics and all that nifty stuff.

Good times.

I'm off to go finish my hunt for functional yet fun furniture (throw in another F....free? fancy?)

With Eyes on the Horizon

2009-01-20T20:56:00.000-08:00

I think even the hardest cynic would have to smile today. Except maybe Rush Limbaugh.

I know my inner cynic took one look at the millions of people in the crowds today, turned a tentative ear towards the perfectly executed and direct speech Barack Obama delivered and decided that today would be a great day to go take a hike in the cold.

I'm hoping it stays gone. There is a really beautiful thing about these sort of suspended moments, where "reality" has absolutely no authority.

There are lots of ways people define reality-to anyone out there whose reality consists of naysaying and countering the swell of energy and hope pulsing through the veining of streets and boulevards across America today with criticisms and fear-let them have it. I will take no part.

I have to admit that I was definitely teary eyed this morning watching the whole thing unfold--it's not just about history being written from this day forward. It's not about the electric power created when potential energy turns into kinetic energy on a scale larger than I can imagine-it's about the synergy of all those things.

I read the other day a particular point of philosophical theory that talked about the debilitation of fear and judgement. I have to admit, there has been a lot of that woven throughout my recent past and through the pasts of people's lives whom I know and deeply care about. But there is always tomorrow.

That's the thread I want to follow. That's what I'm taking from this, just before we all exhale.

There is always tomorrow.

Let's see what we can do.

Dinner Party Insanity

2009-01-18T21:28:00.001-08:00

So maybe it's the excessive amounts of Food Network I seem to like to watch. Or maybe it's one too many years spent wishing I would have entertained more often.

Maybe it's because I have too much free time.

Whatever the reason, I've now had more dinner parties than I've ever had in my life...which totals 1....however, there is one in the works. It should be interesting if nothing else.

I love to cook and I've decided to try making Indian food. I'm excited. The only small problem I can think of is that there are going to be 12 people including myself and my roommate...we have a table that seats 6 if everyone really likes each other. I'm going to have to hunt down a card table and some folding chairs I think.

I never realized how daunting making dinner for 12 people can seem. It doesn't sound like a big deal-and it probably won't turn out to be as difficult as I'm conjuring in my head-but wow. I'm looking at recipes for stuff trying to figure out the best way to do things.

It's less that I'm worried about having enough food and more that I'm worried about having enough food that everyone will like. It's easy to say find three or four side dishes and make them-that's great-unless people really like one and not the other three hehe. So I'm going to aim for somewhere in the middle.

I'm making a basic main course that everyone should like and then I'm making two sidedishes that are interesting and fun and one bigger side dish that is more basic. And lots of rice and stuff.

That should, in theory, work. (c:

I've got it on the brain tonight especially-the dinner party is on Saturday and I'm going to have to tackle shopping on a budget for the stuff on like Tuesday.

There's a lot of prep that goes into Indian food too that I never quite thought of. Lots of rubs and mixes and sauces and delicate handling of hot peppers. It should be a really fun night-there is going to be a wide range of people there and we're going to rent a Bollywood movie and I'm telling people to dress up if they have brightly colored stuff. (c:

I'm going to have to be organized if I'm going to pull this off-which should be interesting since a lot of the stuff can't really be done overnight without getting weird in the fridge.

I dunno-this is all sort of random-

I've got other stuff going on too, this just seems to be where I'm fixating energy at the moment.

I'm also trying to figure out if I'm going to move into my own space or if I'm going to stick around the place I'm at right now for 6 months or so and look at moving out then. It's a tight balance of finances at the moment either way so it's just a matter of looking at the pros and cons and going from there.

There are some good deals that are close by-I'm going to be doing the obligatory drive by and stop in and take a look around on Tuesday I think (unless they're open tomorrow, which would be nice) so I can see exactly what I can get for the money I have available to spend. I'm basing it off of the worst case scenario so I can make sure that I can pay my bills if things turn south.

There's this one apartment that sounds great-there are few concerns-the main one being where it's located because of the weird tax and property tax nonsense that happens when you live on one side of the state line and work on the other, and the fact that it's not in an amazing neighborhood-but still decent. I'm going to give them a call and see if they even have any openings. The place down the street from my apartment right now is probably not as cool or nice of a place as the one in MO but it does leave me hassle free as far as the taxes and all that stuff. And it's closer to my job. If I could just smash the two places together it'd be alright.

The one in MO would definitely give me some space to set up my art studio though. And it's right in the arts district--there are also some really rowdy bars nearby though which can translate to getting broken car windows and stupidity at 2am.

I know that wherever I end up going I'm going to have to find some very functional and fun, multi purpose pieces of furniture so I can continue to entertain and have people around and stuff.

Bleh.

Enough of the noise banging around my brain case. Things usually work out the less I think about them so I'm going to go on gut instinct and see what it brings me.

The pics scattered throughout the post are some of the new work I've got hanging right now at Black Dog.

(c:

Watching paint dry

2009-01-11T19:19:00.000-08:00

Some of the best time to run off and do some yoga...drop a random blog post. Etc. I'm sitting in the midst of about three pieces of work all of which are drying. Slowly. (c:

It's days like these when I really wish I had my studio-but it does give my bedroom a nice vibe. Makes it hard to sleep though when you've got all your work around you, waiting to be finished.

The latest news: I'm going to be hanging some of this work (as soon as it's done. ahem.) at Black Dog Coffee Shop near my house, good stuff. It will be nice to get the work out in the open again. I haven't had a show in a bit and I'm really looking forward to it. This particular month is going to be a collective showing of four different artists including me but then I get my own solo showing in July. I have plenty of time to prepare for that at least. I'm excited about the possibilities.

I began reading a series called The Hinges of History written by Thomas Cahill. I really love his writing voice, it's not just conversational, but really passionate. And he's a non-fiction writer so I'm learning stuff. I just started "How the Irish Saved Civilization" which is both funny and packed quite to the brim with interesting perspectives and information.

I have been craving historical and philosophical books lately. I don't know what brought it about but it seems to be going hand in hand with my drive to really create. I've been on a roll the past few days. It's a little bittersweet-I tend to feel somewhat like Charlie in Flowers for Algernon-you enjoy the ride of productivity and the feeling of being connected and all that and yet sometimes I feel like I can feel the end coming. Not that it's really a bad thing-if i were always pushed to the fullest degree creatively I'd probably explode. There has to be time to collect and gather your thoughts and get into the mindset. It's a process all by itself just to get to the phase where creativity becomes possible.

There are other books in the Hinges of History series-to get back to what I was originally talking about-one of which I read in college and really loved. It's called "Sailing the Wine Dark Sea" and it's about the history of the Greeks. I've always had a really strong passion for that particular culture-partly because our culture has glorified their past and their accomplishments and partly because they really were just that cool.

I would like to work my way through all of the books in the series-though I'm going to be contending with own my distraction level-a friend just lent me the book "The Fabric of Time" which is all about physics and String Theory-which I quite blissfully know nothing about and am excited to learn. I was the kid in school they said wasn't allowed to take physics because I was bad in math-too bad they never figured out that there's a huge difference between applied mathematics and regular old stupid math. (c: I'm getting my chance now though and I'm looking forward to it. I'm hoping the writing is well done and not so overly technical that I can't see the light of day.

I'm on the hunt for another part time job. I got hired supposedly at this shop but I haven't gotten a start date yet and frankly I need the money so whatever. I'm moving on. They can do as they please. We'll see what tomorrow brings. I'm going job hunting early on and then in to work and then off to teach and then I don't know what. Probably back here to harass my poor canvases some more. I've got one that's done, one that's looking really cool and two that are crying for help. I may have just overworked this one to death but there are tricks around having way too much paint on the canvas. Hello brush cleaner. It's brutal but it works.

I saw a beautiful and interesting movie the other day called A Christmas Tale. But it was in French. Great film. There was a specific quote that they were reading that has been poking in the back of my skull. The friend I went to see the movie with looked it up online after much digging-it seems appropriate given the conversations on Tim's blog, the train track that I am currently on and the general hum of esoteric ennui that has been hanging around some specific friends and acquaintances of mine lately:

We are unknown to ourselves, we men of knowledge—and with good reason. We have never sought ourselves—how could it happen that we should ever find ourselves? It has rightly been said: "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" [Matthew 6:21]; our treasure is where the beehives of our knowledge are. We are constantly making for them, being by nature winged creatures and honey-gatherers of the spirit; there is one thing alone we really care about from the heart—"bringing something home." Whatever else there is in life, so-called "experiences"—which of us has sufficient earnestness for them? Or sufficient time? Present experience has, I am afraid, always found us "absent-minded": we cannot give our hearts to it—not even our ears! Rather, as one divinely preoccupied and immersed in himself into whose ear the bell has just boomed with all its strength the twelve beats of noon suddenly starts up and asks himself: "what really was that which just struck?" so we sometimes rub our ears afterward and ask, utterly surprised and disconcerted, "what really was that which we have just experienced?" and moreover: "who are we really?" and, afterward as aforesaid, count the twelve trembling bell-strokes of our experience, our life, our being—and alas! miscount them.—So we are necessarily strangers to ourselves, we do not comprehend ourselves, we have to misunderstand ourselves, for us the law "Each is furthest from himself" applies to all eternity—we are not "men of knowledge" with respect to ourselves.

It's long but I liked it overall. I don't know where it came from yet-that's the next bit of the search. It was from a German text-I noticed that when they panned the camera towards the book he was reading from-so assuming the movie was telling the truth I should be able to look it up and get an author. I read Plato again for the first time in a long time-actually tucked in between the pages of Irish History, Cahill's book discusses the fall of Rome and how it was relavant in shaping the history of what would become "Unholy Ireland" as he words it. He mentions Plato in that whole mess of history-discussing what would be lost with the coming of the Dark/Middle Ages. I'll be posting more of the book later on as I get farther in-his wording deserves to be shared.

That's all for now it seems. I need to think about getting prepared for tomorrow and cleaning up some of this mess. I'm doing good to have space for my laptop and me on the floor right now.

Ta Da.

2009-01-08T21:37:00.000-08:00

yay.

Here's my new pretty.

The thinking wheel is turning

2009-01-03T23:48:00.000-08:00

and for once I'm poised and in the position to write about it. Perhaps this one will go a bit smoother than the previous posts. I was distracted.

Alright-so where to begin.

I just scampered off to read the newest post on Tim's site from Chris regarding creativity and it got me all fired up. And it got my brain turning.

Years ago I had this inherent fear that I was faking being a creative person. I still have a hard time writing that about myself.

I was convinced that I had just fallen victim to all the romanticism tied up with being an artiste and that I lacked any real drive, ability or-specifically-need to create. I may have mentioned this but it merits mentioning again.

The first time the thought crept into my mind was right before college. I dismissed it. The second time was after college.

I remember simply stopping. I didn't paint, write, draw...do much of anything that could be considered creative. I went and got an office job. I quit buying cool art supplies. I deemed it a waste of my money since the first three years of my college had been such a "failure" and I figured that after ending on a strong note I had gotten it out of my system.

This was not the truth. It almost made me go off the deep end. I found myself finding the strangest and most roundabout ways to "make" stuff. So I finally caved in to myself and my own rediscovered need of making and doing and started pushing for shows around the area.

I'm still not living off of my art but it helps scrape past the rent every month.

Here's what prompted this whole deal though-in Chris's post on Tim's site he discussed finding your medium, acknowledging the small ways in which people are creative in their day to day lives (myself included) and making it a habit.

All of those things are fantastic and hold a lot of truth. But, given the length of my comment on Tim's site, I can't seem to wrap my brain around the idea of my found medium.

I pitch myself as a fiber and textiles artist. I remember distinctly being drawn to the fiber dept at my school because it seemed the most versatile. I mean, really, what isn't a fiber or a textile? Canvas. Textile. Reeds and twigs. Organic fibers. Silk. Obviously a textile and a fiber. It's almost totally open. I didn't take full advantage of this while I was in college mainly because my head was up my arse but that's besides the point. I figured it out afterwards-I chose the one department that could feed my passion for doing a bunch of things at the same time.

So, where does this lead me? To a house full of random art supplies, multiple unfinished projects and a burning desire to just figure it all out. I don't know that I would trade liking and being interested by a bunch of different things but at the same time I wouldn't mind being able to find the beginning to my "life's work" as it were. I don't know-the answer I usually get is "I need time." Well-time be damned. I keep feeling like the answer is already right in front of my face.

I tend to stick to three main things right now: silk paintings, regular painting (though I'm quickly realizing that this is going to move to the hobby pile unless I get much, much better), and jewelry. I can't say that I"m really pushing any envelopes in any of the fields but that's always been my issue. I am not someone who sits down and says "let me figure out every single thing I can do with these tools" before I move on. I usually accomplish something, deem it as neat or a waste of time and move on until the bug strikes me to come back and try again or rework something or whatever.

So, do I go against my sporadic nature and focus my energies, even at the risk of getting bored or do I keep pushing in several directions all at once and just wait for something to fall out of the sky that is a coherent artistic direction or thought?

I don't know the answer. Maybe there isn't really one.

To wax on the borderline of sounding conceited-I've always sort of felt like the kid that was good at testing in school when it comes to art and making stuff. There are definitely areas where I am totally worthless (woodworking, sculpture in general...) but overall I never really had to bust my ass at something to get a passable result. Therefore, I think I never really learned what it's like to have to work all the way through an artistic process to get a really stellar result. Like I said, I"ll do something, it'll be "alright" and I"ll move on, my brain considering it done. Even though I know in my gut and everyone else knows, in their guts and their brains that the work I produced wasn't or shouldn't be the end. I guess I am good at getting a good start at something and then wandering off to do something else.

Perhaps part of it stems from an overall fear of success and commitment. I have a big issue with the idea of being good at something. It tends to have some nasty levels of expectations. I'm working on it. I also have a big issue with the idea of defining myself as one way or the other. I"m finally to the point where I can label myself as "creative" without totally fearing that the walls are going to cave in around me and the negative comments will start telling me that I'm full of it and pretentious and don't deserve to be parading around calling myself an artist.

It's sort of a weird position to be in when you think about it. I definitely am drawn to creating and I want to succeed at it and live my life supporting myself in those ways and yet I'm terrified of admitting it. Hm.

Go figure.

All this may add up to wee hour babbling but it's been on my mind for a while. I do things because I like to do them and I think it's fun and interesting, not because I feel what I'm guessing is a deep, personal connection to the art and craft. Perhaps it's in there somewhere and I just haven't had my radar turned up enough to notice it creeping along the edges. There has to be some reason I keep coming back to certain things, even if it is in a roundabout way.

So, my throw out question is: How many different and random creative pathways have you been down before figuring out what really resonated within you? Or have you really found that yet? Do you think it changes as people get older or is it something that doesn't really pay much attention to time?

In case you were all wondering...

2009-01-03T23:19:00.000-08:00

This is what I do for a living...

(c:

http://www.kclinc.org/video-library.aspx?id=2416

You may have to scroll down a bit and select Mad Science September 2008. I'm the one who's talking about sound. (c:

Good times.

Good morning 2009

2009-01-01T15:22:00.000-08:00

Well, evening more appropriately but whatever.

So I haven't seemed to be able to get near my blog in a few months. I don't know why. Energy has been focused into other areas and writing just didn't seem to be in the works. Things come in cycles with me a lot of the time, though I haven't been on any specific creative kick lately-just sort of doing things here and there.

I hate all the talk about the potential of doing this that and the other when it comes to the New Years Resolutions that everyone talks about...they tend to just lead to disappointment because the goals set are unrealistic.

However, I have learned a great deal about myself over the past 2008 sprawl that we just finished and there are things that I want to carry with me into 2009 and things that I'd like to leave where they lie.

For starters-I now know that travel is essential to my life. I knew that before but I really know it now.

I also know that I like knowing how much money I make each month instead of trying to play a guessing game each pay period. I'm working on rectifying that now but as things go, I'm honing my hypothesis skills. Bleh.

I know that I need to get back to working on my energy focusing skills. There was a time when I could actually meditate without feeling like a stuttering record. Breathe 1.2.3.4...breathe 1.2.3....I need to do my laundry....4...breathe 1.2....and I should really be working on my jewelry stuff...3...where was I?...oh yeah...4...

I need to work on bringing that back to center. I am going to start from scratch and build the environment and pretend like I don't know anything. Probably not too far from the truth. (c:

I also learned in 09 that if I can stick with something through the initial stage of frustration over not knowing where to start or what to do that I can actually accomplish something. So we'll see where that takes me. I'm referring specifically to my guitar learning skills and my writing abilities. I'm still working on my story and while it hasn't taken any amazing leaps, neither have I. I've been toying with it. I'm working on it off and on and I'm ok with that. It's a cool process. Now I just have to keep it up.

I'm also trying to follow through with my risk taking. I've always been all about the adrenaline and all about the random acts of fun and craziness-but it never really went much farther than the basic stuff for adrenaline rushes and all that....for example: I went Skydiving but I couldn't summon the guts to go do a real audition for a play.

So...the other day I was sitting at this coffeeshop that I'm at now and voila, a local short film was holding tryouts...so I walked in, asked if I could try and did it. We'll see where that goes.

I'm excited about the opportunities that I had and took in 08 and I'm stoked about what 09 will bring.

I think i'm more excited, however, about the prospect of getting my own space. I love roommates and my friends and stuff but I need to challenge myself to build a home. Ideally I'll own my space...even if it's a little townhome or duplex or something in a moderate neighborhood. I think that would be really cool. Mainly because then I could leave all my stuff there, go travel and come back and it would still be there. (c:

I'd also like to turn off my inner cynic. I don't think I'm negative generally but I know that there is a lack of balance in my brain between seeing things as very good or total crap.

More later....

I'm doing it again.

2008-11-15T23:10:00.000-08:00

I'm finding ways to get over busy so I don't have to focus on re-focusing. (c: Go figure that one out.

I mean-this time it's not just random nonsense-it's business stuff in a lot of ways. I just feel like I'm spending a lot of damn money lately. Art crap is expensive and it's killing me to know that I have a lot of perfectly good stuff living in a garage in Colorado that I can't get my hands on. Not that I really have a ton of place to keep all that stuff right now-it's sort of a lot. It needs it's own house at the moment.

And I feel like certain things are on repeat since one of my art supply bearing packages exploded after arriving to the States and now my stuff is in random cities in random states with no way to get back to me. I don't know if it literally exploded but a friend of mine got a book belonging to me in the mail....she lives in New Orleans....right.

I've got a long to-do list tomorrow-most of which should be classified under "fun errands to run" meaning that I am going to go find some sort of table that I can use for storage and decorative purposes, I'd like to peruse the options for comforters and see what I can find-not really the best time since I'm going to have some bills hitting in a bit and well, I've only had 2 paychecks so far so yeah...not the most opportune moment to run out and buy stuff. I have things that work very nicely right now and I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

I did splurge and get a haircut. w00t.

I also need to run and get some supplies since I'm going to have a busy busy month in December it looks like. Tomorrow is going to be a hopefully not too expensive day but I will definitely be leaking money in different places.

I've discovered that I really dig Polyclay. Good stuff. Stinky. Sticky. But really fun. And cost effective! (read: cheaper than buying beads...I can do this!)

I am hunting for some more Christmas Commissions-if you know anyone who needs that special something, hit me up. I'd be glad to help out. (c: I'm cheap. And easy. :D

Moving past the shameless plug-I've landed a few good gigs for the beginning of December and am now looking into filling the rest of the month with things that could potentially make me some money. I"m also beginning to compile my christmas lists and figure out who I need to shop for and all that fun stuff.

I've also been jonesin' to get my hands on some painting time. I'm no painter and I know that but I like to do it so why the heck not.

My friend had an early Thanksgiving Dinner-his theory is to do it before everyone is sick of Turkey. Hehe. It was good stuff. I ate some awesome food, drank some beer, hung out with some friends and then stuck around afterwards, helped clean up a bit and then made some jewelry with my friend. It was a good night.

I have nothing of utmost importance to talk about tonight I'm realizing-I've just been setting some goals and trying to work towards them. Including spending more time crafting good "being at home habits"...some of which are working. Some of which aren't. It's a weird time.

Anyway-I'm sure I set out to say something important but sometimes just writing to write is a good cathartic experience. It gets the brain going in a different way and makes me feel, at least, that I've talked something out even if I never really got around to what that was. It's a good method for getting a new perspective on the same old same old.

I'm going to bed-I really do have lots of stuff I need to be doing and sitting up at 1:30 in the morning talking about how much I have to do and waiting for some ephiphany to strike is probably not the best way to go about doing things.

So.

Goodnight.

Have you ever...(c:

2008-11-08T22:17:00.000-08:00

Bold the things you’ve done and will admit to.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band-does Rock Band count?
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity (not sure what counts here)
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community (I'm not counting seeing them downtown shopping)
36. Taught yourself a new language (do video courses count?)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted (sort of)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie(the scene was cut but we filmed it...)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia-I got really damn close....
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Gotten flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit-I was accused of being evicted and then sued but it was an accident and it never went to court so I guess that's a no...
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

How about you?

Breathe in...

2008-11-04T21:43:00.000-08:00

And breathe out.

Yes. We. Did.

Perhaps now we will be reminded what it means to live responsibly.

Oh.

And.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I've gotten this every time since I was 17...

2008-10-19T17:56:00.001-07:00

Minus the Harry Potter part. I guess some things never change. (c:

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.

Writing is a dirty devil

2008-10-08T19:32:00.000-07:00

My story is lacking commitment.

I figured it out. I have this problem in a lot of areas-strangely enough relationships not being one of them-regardless-

In my martial arts class I'm always being told to flesh out the movements a bit more, get into them, give them a little more oomph. Take them to their fullest. I tend to gloss over things a bit more...just naturally inclined that way.

So when I'm reading through my story-especially the last chapters, I'm realizing that I haven't really committed to anything-I've got the idea, I've got the "moments" that are supposed to mean something but I get into "gloss over" mode and I don't really write the moment. I get the bones and then expect people to get really excited hehe. Or something. So bearing this in mind-and hopefully without getting incredibly wordy and reaching for straws, I will attempt to actually write this thing-which sounds silly. I think I get scared away of what people may or may not think about my own sanity or my own personal values based on the things I write about. The thing is, I'm not writing my life story. They know that. I know that. I'm writing from the perspective of someone else entirely-in theory. And therefore, I can do what I want or what the story dictates. Something that makes things a little more interesting.

I've said it before, but there's something intimidating about putting things down in black and white because it makes them seem more real.

When I want to write something intense and sensuous and whatever, or completly the opposite, really awkward and open and quirky, I get tied up in the fear that people are going to overlay what my characters do and say and think about, onto me, without knowing me. I guess in someways it woudn't be a bad thing but at the same time-it's something I need to just get over.

Alrighty-making a late dinner and then perhaps attempting this monster. I swear I'll keep moving.

The abridged version of this post could have read: I am going to make a pledge to stop half assing everything I do.

On the road again..

2008-10-02T14:05:00.000-07:00

No promises about the lucidity of this post, I'm lacking the appropriate coffee to blood stream ratio.

And I'm jetlagged.

And my o key is stuck. Srt f makes me want t write like this.

So I arrived last night, on time despite a delay at Chicago's airport due partially to the weather and to the fact that the valve that regulated the oil line designated to keep the fuel warm while in flight had gone schizo and they had to get it fixed. All went well with the flight though-sat behind one of the poorest examples of an American I've met in a while...

Excerpt from last night's overheard conversation:

Douchebag to the guy next to him: So, where you from?

Guy Next To Him, spoken in thick accent, moderately broken English: Austria

Douchebag: Ahh, from Down Under! (spoken in pathetic attempt at Aussie accent)

Austrian: No, not Australia-Austria.

Douchebag: Oh. Right.

Me: You know, the one by Germany.

Douchebag then proceeded to babble aimlessly and laugh at his own jokes.

Regardless, arrived back in KC with no problems...my awesome friend and now roommate made chili...so not only did I have food waiting for me...but it was hot, yummy homemade chili!

And I have a wonderful new bedroom and I slept like the dead last night. It was awesome. I got up around noon...finally. Currently feel a bit like a zombie but I think it'll be back to normal by tomorrow.

k..mre posting when my o key desn't require a ten pound grilla t sit n it t wrk.

To: The Economy From: Me

2008-09-15T13:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Economy,

You haven't been looking well lately. In fact, I'd say you've been looking a little peakish. I'm worried about you. I think you need a rest. Sometimes starting over is the best option. It gives us a chance to rebuild and re-evaluate from the inside.

Change can be a good thing. I know it's hard to be the one who gets abandoned, being left brokenhearted and alone but you'll come through this. Lehman Brothers, Washington Mutual, all of those who are now gone, they weren't your real friends anyway. They were just smoke and mirrors, you're too good for them. You need substance in your life, real options that are backed by real promises, not empty words.

You're going through hard times, I understand. A lot of us understand, but we need you. You can't give up now, no throwing in the towel. It's time you took stock, figure out where you want to be in ten years and start moving forward. I'm not here to tell you what you already know, but sometimes we all need to be picked up by our bootstraps.

I'm also not here to tell you that the worst is over, it isn't. But if we pull together we can look towards a brighter, greener future. Things will be alright. We just have to keep a little perspective. You've been abused-taken for granted, even taken advantage of-you were pushed too far over the edge by those who didn't know how to appreciate you for you but it'll soon be over and you can show them what you're made of. It's time to get back to some of those old time values, don't just lay yourself down for every person with a pretty smile that comes along, have some pride. You have a choice who you invest your time and energy in.

So, why don't you come over to my place, we'll have some tea, I hear England's coming to see how you're doing and we can figure this all out. And that deficit everyone's talking about? Don't let it bother you too much. Just ignore all those hateful, hopeless words. You'll figure out how to get it paid off eventually. It'll be hard, you've been living in a virtual world for so long but recovery is possible. Even the best of us fall on hard times. So, buck up, take a deep breath and get ready to start a new chapter in your life, capitalize on some hard lessons learned and we'll see if the sun doesn't start to shine through those rain clouds.

Sincerely,

Me.

Idle Times

2008-09-11T12:05:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I have chicken pox. Of all things. I thought it was measles at first but it tricksed me. Tricksy little viruses. Regardless, I look like Swamp Thing but it's all fine. Aesthetics aside, it's getting better. If my face falls off, well, that'll just make for a really interesting weekend.

Anyway-As I've been laying around in bed the past...week?...I've been doing a lot of thinking about this little election we're facing. Ok, so I know I'm probably late to jump on the bandwagon-I haven't been doing my rounds as usual, frankly, I haven't been doing much of anything, but I'm going to add my voice to whatever mix is out there.

I'm pissed.

I've been pissed for eight years. I've waited for eight years. And I am not about to stand here, lie here, sit here, whatever, and watch another pig-headed, foolish ass run the country. Regardless of what side of the line we stand on politically I don't think there's a single person right now who can say that they are really, truly happy with the state of things. You look at the anniversaries that have come and gone, Katrina, 9/11 and you have to wonder-what have we done with the time we've been given? Not a damn thing.

We have a city still in ruins because our government cares more about feeding their fat faces than repairing peoples lives.

We have memorials to commemorate people who died and what have we accomplished? If any of you are conspiracy theorists than perhaps you join me in a bit of wry smiling and head shaking, but regardless (or perhaps as Bush would say, irregardless..), we can throw up pretty memorials and say a bunch of nice, empty words and yet our actions, our ACTIONS show that we don't really give a damn. I'm sick of claiming a society that is so smug and so busy being pleased with ourselves over nothing that we can't smell our own bullshit.

I'll tell you something, the only reason Gustav got coverage was because it damaged oil sources, not because thousands of people were losing their lives as it ravaged across the seas-not because it threatened an already hobbling New Orleans. No, it got attention because of Oil.

We are drunk on it. We are gorged on it. I'm surprised it doesn't bleed out of the assholes in Washington every time they sit down. There has got to be a better solution.

People can throw around big words like Off Shore Drilling and Alaskan Tundra and Global Market but what it really boils down to is a quick fix. Nothing that is sucked out of this dehydrated earth today is going to affect our market before five, ten, fifteen, maybe twenty years. I'll be 45 in twenty years, at that point, I plan on being car free, living in a house that actually saves energy, running my business and going from there. Not stuffing my gas guzzling car full of more dirty, desperately endangered natural resources.

If I'm really honest, I am terrified, more than I can express with any word in any language, or any of the images I draw or paint, for the state of our environment. We live here, if we want to continue to do that, we have to change. And I mean, really, in our hearts and in our guts, change.

There is this word that people seem to be allergic to these days...it's called Responsibility. I'm not going to preach, we're all adults, we all know the meaning of this word. The problem is everyone seems afraid to do anything with it. Afraid or apathetic. I'm not sure which anymore.

To become an oil free nation is going to take time. The world and the global economy would come crashing down around our feet tomorrow if we pulled oil off the market right this second. We'd have bigger problems than Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac and The Lehman Brothers to worry about, that's for sure. But to really, actually realize the reality that everyone keeps talking about, we're going to have to start now. Not 4 years from now, not 8 years from now, but NOW.

Germany has the right idea-the other day I helped to clean out some moving boxes. We came across old cassette tapes that we have no player to listen to them with anymore...so instead of dumping the whole thing in the trash, we took the cassettes out of their cases, put the cases in the yellow sack (which is the best invention ever...more in a minute) and put the rest in the "trash". All of it will be recycled. No rewards. No gimmicks. No expensive monthly fees to pay. Just done. Over, simple. No problem. Recycling is inherent in peoples lives here. To the point where the country can take other countries garbage and dispose of it for them.

Imagine if America actually got off its fat ass and tried that? Tried actually putting clear, functional, affordable recycling tools in peoples homes. The yellow sack idea is fantastic if you ask me. It's a bag, and it's yellow. Hence the name. And in it you put anything that qualifies as packaging. Plastic wrappers, casings, boxes, you name it, in the bag. And then you set it out on your curb like normal trash twice a week and it goes away. Into the blue yonder to be recycled in a clean and generally efficient manner. How hard is this? We're one of the biggest societies in the world and we can't figure out how to quit dumping our shit into the oceans and the landfills and streets? It's pathetic and it's sickening.

Germany also utilizes bio-tons. All biological food items (peelings, egg shells, small bits of leftovers) go into a trashcan looking container and taken to the giant compost heap. There's no smell, there's no unsightly anything, it's just a better way of processing waste. It's not that difficult.

Alas, things like this require that people set down their Blackberrys and their Starbucks Latte's *who really could do better and use 100 percent recycled cups instead of 60%. They have more money than god....it would probably improve their economic efficiency in the long run.* and DO something that takes a few extra seconds out of their day. More specifically, people need to put aside their bloated Egos that says they are more important than every other living creature on this planet and take a minute. Figure out how to carpool. Look into setting up a car share program in their city *which I'm going to look into once I'm back in the States. If I have to call the Wisconsin government and ask them, "How did you set up your rideshare?" I will. It can't be that hard. It would do wonders for our fuel and energy consumption though.

Ok, so in case you can't tell, I'm a bleeding heart hippy Liberal and I'm damn proud of it. I have a friend who is a Republican..we've been friends for almost 11 years. Friendship is deeper than politics and we've agreed to disagree on a lot--however, I care too much about this election to let it slip through our fingers again.

To win I think we need, above all, unity. We need to get behind our candidate and show that age does not equal wisdom. That throwing a pretty pair of tits up in front of the cameras who also happen to have a mouth and a brain attached to them is not the answer we're looking for when we say "We need change". It isn't about gender anymore. That Ace was already played and pocketed by Clinton. It's about reform. It's about motivation. I don't think John McCain can motivate anyone to do anything different than they are already doing. Which is the last thing anyone needs. Because what we've been doing isn't working. Someone remind me, what's the definition of Insanity again?

We think in terms of money, not honesty or environment unfortunately. Global Warming only became popular when we began to realize that it was costing us extra money (in the form of taxes, higher costs of living, the buzzword energy prices)...and it was hurting the environment. Ok, so money got our attention--the environments state has held it because the link between the two has been formed--now lets do something about it. Let's help both ourselves and the planet...which really should be first because as the saying goes...."Your last suit doesn't have any pockets." You can make all the money in the world and none of it will matter when we're dead. When that fate arrives on our doorstep has a lot to do with the changes and decisions we make today.

Clean air and water and all that other important stuff doesn't have any impact on people anymore. It's taken for granted. We've never had to suffer blindness because of contaminated drinking water like some countries. We should be grateful for that. Because at this rate, someday, we might. Ok, so all of that aside--you can't march around with signs in your hand that say "Save the Planet" and expect to spark change anymore. You can't yell and scream in public and expect to be heard. You have to do the hardest thing anyone can do....you have to change and you have to make sure other people know you've changed and lead by example.

There's a fine line between leading and flaunting but really, I think we could all manage. I have friends who truly have made lifestyle changes that are suited towards the environment. They get their groceries from a local KC Farming Collective. They built a house that uses the heat from the earth to stay warm. Every piece of wood in their home was set to be thrown away or burned and they salvaged it, reclaimed it and reused it. They did a lot of the work themselves instead of hiring out other people to do it for them, they bought appliances and items that conserve energy.

You don't have to go to that extreme necessarily but there are things you can do in your day to day life, more than just changing your lightbulbs or unplugging your appliances before you go to bed that can really make an impact. And that can show to the public and to the politics in a big way that we are ready to start down the road towards a future we can actually be proud to be part of.

We have big, scary issues facing our lives right now, threatening the very day to day routines that we take for granted. But only if we let it. If we can step away from our obsession with money and oil, if we can look to the other side of Privilege and see what Could Be, if we can stop fooling ourselves and start sacrificing, changing, revamping whatever you want to call it, the way we live our lives, then we can start to talk about renewable energy. Foreign Policy. Education. Above all, education.

In my belief, it starts with us before it starts with Politics but putting Obama in office wouldn't be a bad first step. 0:D That's just one liberals opinion.

In the end, though, it really comes down to what we do as a people. Not as Republicans or Democrats. We get too attached to labels in our society. We are all just people-and as people we have a responsibility to do what we can today. Take back the marionette strings and see what can happen.

Frequency and Tone

2008-08-29T14:34:00.000-07:00

I'm not talking about music but close enough.

I'm talking about language.

Each language operates at it's own frequency or tone-the trick to learning languages then, i think, is not to do what I've tried to do and beat yourself over the head with grammar and all that other junk...(ok...so it's not a bad place to start, structure is important too darnit) but to get a few of the basic words and then just listen...a lot. But it's more than that too...I am not sure I can really get to the heart of what I'm trying to say, except to point out some of the obvious things and go from there.

Mainly, you cannot overlay your knowledge of one language on top of another. Maybe with some that are closely related, but say with Turkish (my addiction), it's nearly impossible. I know this, logically, and yet the tone and frequency of English is so ingrained...I know how to manipulate English, how to be funny, how to be professional or intelligent (sometimes) or whatever....I can say with relative confidence that I use my language well.

The trick for me now is to turn that part of my brain off and really figure out how to do the same thing with other languages...German is easier. I am proud to say that on the right day and without the kids yakkin' at me a mile a minute I will just start a sentence in German and pull from my resource until I hit a block...I don't have to sit there and think for three hours about what I want to say or how to say it, I just start to say it.

Therein lies a distinction as well...being able to pull from a source and having to filter it through your own language first or being able to pull directly from that source...that's the beauty of being around kids. You start to associate the things you hear with what they do because overall, they are not spewing Shakespeare they are just talking about the basic things.

A few months back I put down the Elementary Turkish book (hard as it was...i'm surprised it hadn't printed itself on my hands) and said, Ok, enough of that. I started chatting with a friend of mine...she speaks no English and my Turkish is hardly rudimentary but whatever. I found an online turkish dictionary for when I really get stuck and I started to try.

I had a few moments where the other person didnt understand a word of what I said, and I would have to try again...but generally I could be understood.

THe problem is that I'm speaking at the wrong frequency...rather, I'm typing at the wrong frequency. I catch myself all the time trying to use Turkish like English like I said and it doesn't work. They have no word for the verb "to have" for cryin' out loud..hehe.

Some things work out alright but you can tell from reading my IM's that it's a forced language for me....I know the words, I have a set of formula's in my head for forming sentences but there's no....heart....not the right word...there's no spirit to it. It's just words being put down in the order that I know they should go in.

Sometimes I get glimpses of light and I know that I'm getting closer but I have a lot of work to do.

They also have 8 cases so I'm not entirely just a dummy hehe. :D

Language is the thing...my raison d'etre in a sense...it's about a process, neurologically, emotionally, spiritually....it's the way to get past differences in race and culture. Language is all we have in a sense and I want as much of it as I can get. I don't know exactly why..maybe I want attention, maybe I'm looking for a better way to understand myself through the words of another, maybe I just like puzzles but there is something absolutely fascinating to me about the way people communicate with each other in their day to day life.

It's funny but I notice how differently our mouths work when we speak new languages with different sounds, and it's interesting because in older people, you can see the evidence of those movements in their smile lines and the lines around their mouths. That's cool to me.

There are some things that I can't imagine being written in any other language aside from English-namely my favorite books, because it wouldn't be "the same" I know how messy it is to translate something and to not just get the words but to get the meaning behind the words.

It's a loaded thing to try and translate what someone else has said into another language...I just said it but I'll say it again-it's not just about the words, it's about the meaning. The cultural, personal, societal weight and meaning that words can carry has to be translated along with the physical words.

I dunno...maybe I think too much. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar but a lot of the time, it has it's own story. (c: I think the same is true with languages, sometimes things are just what they seem...that's the stuff you learn in school "Sit in a chair." "Open the window." Whatever-but to really get into a language takes a reconditioning of the brain that anyone can do I think if they have the patience and the desire.

I don't know...the best way to do something well is to practice so I'm going to keep at it. I'm going to force my friends and family to help me fix my mistakes and to bear with me while I make a fool out of myself trying to move past the 5th grade speaking level hehe...

I can feel this process taking place in my brain sometimes I think-someday the door will burst open and I will "get it". (c:

Intention. Action. Fruition.

Materialism

2008-08-25T14:04:00.001-07:00

has to be the highest of all unattractive behaviors. Especially when it comes not from a superficial place that was put there by society, but when it is born into a person.

More specifically, any parent who would encourage this in their own child should be drawn and quartered.

Children should be taught the value of whatever currency you use (I'd say dollar but that changes too much on a daily basis anymore)--but not to the sacrifice of love.

And I'm not talking that hippy shit that those others would call "quirky" are always going on about...but I am talking about value. There is a level of value that comes from the quality of our relationships which is dictated by the quality of people we have around us. If I don't have a dime in my pocket, and yes, I've been there, I know that there are people who will be my friends regardless. My family, charmingly dysfunctional as they are, will still love me.

In short, they won't define my value by how much money I have in my bank account.

And while it might be hip and cool to flaunt whatever assets you think you have around, because our society has told us as much, if the world blows up and all of your possessions are gone, then what? The means by which you've defined yourself are gone and you're left with nothing. In the biggest sense. Assuming that we're left at all. Regardless.

You have to take time to cultivate the interior, the mind, the soul, whatever word you want to put on it--intelligence to me will never be defined by marrying someone or being with a person because it means you can pay your rent but are emotionally bankrupt.

And parents have this duty above all. So, listen up--quit being idiots and talking to your children about your money problems. Stop telling them the reason they can't have whatever stupid item they're asking for is because of the dollar value, don't tell them that you go shopping at certain places only because of money or whatever. Sometimes it's unavoidable and yes, they have to have an idea of how money and the economy works, but they don't need to have it define every element of their lives.

I can't even begin to express the absolute hatred of that behavior/attitude, whatever, I have. I can sit here and fume and type and say whatever but there is no word for it. Disgust comes close.

There is nothing that hurts me more than seeing someone, especially a kid, offer up or treat the things in their life that actually mean something as though they were nothing just because the monetary "value" isn't evident.

What good is a piece of paper that we give a virtual value to when it really comes down to it?

I need to find my copy of Zen and the Art.

Just a few words before I go

2008-08-22T13:52:00.001-07:00

Where I'm not entirely sure. I am ready to go home but that is a loaded word with only shadows. So we'll see.

Just a few notes and then I'm getting some real sleep.

1. Had some good news about the store that has my jewelry for commission in their shop in Weston, MO-some stuff sold. It hasn't been down there a full month (we had to pull inventory for a weekend here and there) so I'm pretty happy.

2. I jumped off the cliff and signed up for this huge Women's Life Expo that is coming through the KC Convention Center-a chance to sell my jewelry and my art to thousands of people-specifically women. Wish me luck.

3. I am reassessing my previous ability to cope with things. Perhaps I have found my limit for bullshit.

I found a marked improvement in my German. Makes me feel pretty good in a way-now to fill in the holes.

Estonia is my new secret. It was a really wonderful time and overall a great experience. I got a good dose of learning to be with just me---which was a little dull at times honestly. I guess I'm not as engaging as I thought hehe. Regardless-I wouldn't trade it for anything. I developed my skills as a drawer and rediscovered my passion for Oil Pastels. And I did a silk painting that I am quite pleased with. It has flow, it has a good composition, I paced myself and let it guide me--I feel alright about the process. Which is what I'm all about anyway.

Tallinn is a fantastic city full of great people. Witnessing the precursor to their Independence Day was something that I will never forget. People can belittle patriotism all they want but coming from a people who literally spent almost 7 centuries being owned by everyone else it's a truly humbling experience. They held a Singing Festival in honor of the Singing Revolution. There is something pretty cool about standing in a crowd of 300,000 listening to them sing songs about freedom. I dunno-maybe it's just me and my love of history but wow.

I started to make some more jewelry, which is good since I have this big ol' sale coming up in October. Lots of things to balance, now if my brain can just keep up with me so I don't go crazy and lose all the ground I've covered so far, we'll be alright.

Anyway.

That's all for now. I'm going to try and get some sleep and shake whatever it is that is making me run a fever and have a swollen throat.

And the writing continues. I hope to have Chapter 6 pushed to an end if not the end by Sunday.

Thank god school starts soon for the kids.

Chapter Five-Beyond the Seven Seas

2008-08-15T02:31:00.000-07:00

More on my disappearance after the 20th. For now-

Here. There are notes to myself still in here and odds and ends that aren't quite tying in yet but I can fix that later. Here's dem bones. (c:

CHAPTER FIVE

He had taken a wrong turn. At least, that’s what he was going to tell Boreas when he saw him. He was late. The day was quickly spelling trouble for him. A pig of his word indeed! Damn the fates. They always seem to have different ideas for those trying to do right. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings. He had no idea where he was. He had spent half his day covered in slime and now here he was, lost in London with a very angry Boreas waiting for him on the other end. Well, he assumed he was angry. He was usually angry. But he had to see her again! It was crazy and it took him well out of any way that he knew to get to where he was going but impulse being the devil it is, he had followed her. Sometimes we’re programmed to break the rules. It seemed to suit him. He hadn’t really intended for her to see him, that was sure to cause problems later on but things never happen the way they are expected. Causes a lot of disappoint in the end. He had learned to stop expecting. The pleasure of being out of the dampness of the sewers overruled his worries-it was so much better in the open. Let Clio run around in the filth of London and see how ready she is to suggest such a thing again. Ha. He’d do it his way for a while. Liberties were meant to be taken after all, and he could make up his own mind just fine. He scurried along, tucked into the shadows of the looming buildings of London, hoping he was headed somewhere familiar. Things were very different up here. He wandered the streets until the voice in the back of his addled brain began to chirp loud enough for him to listen.

He should take cover.

There was danger in being seen.

He was running out of time.

He peered around the next corner and scrambled towards the open drain that led back into the murk. He took a final look around and unceremoniously and without grace sloshed his way back into the underground of London. He supposed he should be looking towards the bright side of things, but with time hanging like a heavy mantle around his neck the bright side was increasingly difficult to find.

Tonight:

Desk. Window. Corner. Door. Desk.

Desk. Door. Corner. Window. Desk.

Boreas followed his own footsteps around the dingy and damp office he was renting in London’s Upper East Side. The brown-paneled walls stared back at him and the air was ripe with his own scent and neglected brandy. The glass in his hand had been refilled and emptied. The bottle sitting atop the table slouching against the far wall was looking bare and he was becoming restless. He could go out. But he had to wait. And he was drunk. Or getting there.

Desk. Window. Corner. Door. Desk.

He hated to be kept waiting.

The air outside was growing thick with rain and cold and the inside of his office was freezing. The window against the far wall leaked and the radiator had given up a long time ago.

He went back over to the table that held his one source of entertainment and pulled the top off of the bottle. He sloshed the last remains of the bottle into his glass. With his thin lips he sucked the spilled sour drops off of his wrist. The rest he wiped on his shirt. The cuffs that used to be white had turned gray and the buttons were slightly askew from being worn and slept in for too many days. His jeans clung to his thin frame like leaves on a winter tree. The gray was showing in his dark hair.

Cleanliness may be close to godliness but he had no desire to get any closer to the gods than he’d already managed. Not that it had been his choice. Things rarely were these days.

He drank the last of his brandy.

Desk. Window. Corner. Door. Desk.

The rain started and the walls began to weep as reflections of running water drained down them.

If it weren’t for that stupid pig I wouldn’t be here he thought angrily. His thoughts tumbled out of his control spurred by too much brandy and the blood in his brain caught fire.

If he could kill Apollo he would. Unfortunately, even he was above delusion. It simply wasn’t an option. There was no option at the present but to wait. Regret has a way of seeping into the most hardened of souls. He wanted his muse and to go home. He wanted to never have to deal with another fool woman. They always caused nothing but trouble for him. He spun sharply on the worn heel of his boot.

Desk.Window.Corner.Door.Desk.

The thunder shook the walls and Boreas stopped his pacing long enough to pick up the chair he had ungracefully knocked over in one of his previous rages. Pain shot through his lower back and knees. The weather always brought him pain.

He was old. Too old. What could he do?

He sat down heavily and leaned his head back against the window. The cold glass burned some of the fog out his mind.

He had been a fool so many times before. There was no reason now should be any different. He closed his blue eyes. The lines on his face weighed on him like rocks in a sinking ship.

The conversation from earlier in the evening replayed in his brain like a bad horror flick. It had not gone well to say the least. Meetings involving Kalliope hardly ever went well for anyone. Especially not him. She had thrown salt and he had spent the night licking his wounds clean defending something he had no interest defending. Nothing above self preservation and even that was becoming a questionable cause.

They met at the (insert place name here) around 8pm as discussed. Kalliope had come strutting in on the arm of Apollo and the smell of her over priced perfume made him want to gag as he took his seat opposite her. Apollo, the little lap dog, took a seat next to her followed by Clio and the others. They left a chair open where the missing vixen of the hour should have been. It seemed both honorary and insulting. The diner was poorly lit by the pitiful hanging lamps and the table was too small to fully accommodate all of them, but things weren’t quite how they used to be and these provisions would have to do for the time being. Kalliope had been the first to speak. Of course. Her voice rang in his ears like a note played off tune. There was nothing to be expected from her words, Boreas knew her slippery tongue. She was teat fed on insinuations and hidden propaganda. She was intoxicating.

Her slanted eyes didn’t blink as she looked at him, her hand looped loosely over Apollo’s.

“Well, where is the little fucker.” Kalliope didn’t ask questions. She demanded.

“Late. Missing. Off tramping around with our missing idiot—“

Boreas set his lips in an even thinner line and started again.

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll have gone back and we will be hearing from him shortly” He gave his most placid face and wrapped his hands around the gray cup. He picked at the porcelain paint with a dirty finger nail. He considered the consequence of actually putting the cup to his lips. It seemed too much of an unnecessary risk for such a pitiful payoff. Instead he let the humid warmth seep into his palms.

“Evidently that’s assuming a lot on his part, don’t you think?”

Boreas threw his hands up in irritation.

“What I think, is not something that you, in fact, have to think about at all. Seems like you have enough problems with your own concerns.”

He would kill the pig when he got his hands on him.

“I didn’t think I was the main concern of the evening.” He said after a moment.

“Yes, well. About that. About her. The poor dear. Out there all alone, missing. Seems we have a bit of a problem on our hands, doesn’t it.”

How she managed to say it without sneering Boreas would never know. The physical effort should have cracked her porcelain skin.

“Uhm, can I say something?”

All heads turned to look and the tension in the air eased for a fleeting moment.

Clio cleared her throat. “I think we’re the least of the concerns here.”

Kalliope arched an eyebrow at her. Apollo just nodded his head. Boreas said nothing.

“Well, I mean, People aren’t used to this anymore. Muses went out of common knowledge a long time ago.” Clio pursed her lips ever so slightly.

“They have Google for their inspiration now.” Kalliope curled her upper lip like an animal. Or perhaps a child who has gotten a taste of something they didn’t like.

“Complain all you want about our replacements, it doesn’t change the fact that this is serious business she’s brought us. The Rules state very clearly that the boundaries must be obeyed. In fact, if you look back in history—“

“Save your breath.” Boreas cut her off more harshly than he had intended. “We all know the rules. I don’t give a fuck all about the rules. They’re broken. To hell with the boundaries, dear Erato showed us exactly how much those “rules” mean.”

“There must have been a reason. She’s not a complete fool. She knows better than to just let herself, uninvited, into the realm of the mortals.”

“You make it sound so poetic.”

“Yeah, well.” Clio gave Boreas a flat look.

Terpsichore was the first one to set off the chain of arguments.

“I don’t give her that much credit. It’s not like this is the first time.”

“Things were different then. Different times.” Then

"Were they really though? So different, that is? And SO AND SO.

“Things are different now though, we don’t have the same resil—“

Boreas’ open palm hit the table.

“Regardless!” If there was a more narrow sighted group anywhere he would love to meet them. “We don’t even know if she chose to leave this time. Are you all forgetting that? She disappeared. Nothing. No word, no warning. Just, gone. So in essence, it might as well be the first time! And Clio’s right. We’re not the primary concern here.”

They were Gods. Or near gods, at least. One fool-headed Muse was not going to change that. He would see to it himself if that’s what it took.

“How touching. You almost sound worried.” And so his wounds were laid open.

“Oh stop—someone has to think of someone other than themselves for once.”

Kalliope just glared at Clio. “Our time has passed long ago. Perhaps it’s time to move on.” She said in a quiet, breathless voice. They could almost detect hope behind the words.
“Are you mad?” The words were out of Clio’s mouth before she could register that she’d said them. “And then what would become of us? Things like this have an order, you know. A structure. There are laws.” She folded her arms in front of her on the table. Her boundaries were set.

“Besides—“she continued in a moment of boldness that surprised even her. Where is all this fire when my students refuse to listen to me? She wondered mildly. “It seems you’ve grown quite accustomed to the more secular pleasures.” Kalliope was not the only one who could play word games.

Boreas glanced around the table. The others were just sitting and watching, the momentary burst of opinions had run its course. They rarely had much to offer in these matters, they knew the pecking order. Of course, there wasn’t supposed to be a pecking order but between the combined egos of Kal, Boreas and Clio, there was no room for anyone else. They were not above the basic rules of nature.

“Perhaps I could become unaccustomed. There’s something to be said for knowing when you’ve overstayed your welcome. I think the humans have made it pretty clear, don’t you?” She was at once pleading and sarcastic. She was after something.

No one said anything for a few moments. They all knew there was truth behind what she was saying, even if it had to do with her own selfish agendas.

Everyone has a sunset.

“No one is going anywhere until Erato is found.” Boreas said at least, pinching his sinuses between his thumb and forefinger. He needed a drink. “Not until then.” He said on the exhale breath. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.

Things certainly weren’t as they used to be. In the past. He found himself looking back more often than he looked forward these days. There had been a time when the Gods had wandered freely. When inspiration ran without chains and life had rhythm. Certainly better than this oil slick in the rain they were living now. Yes, things had changed. The promised angel called Modernity had slipped into the marrow before anyone could do anything about it and fear and hesitance seeped into the Gods. They were shunted into a singularity, one where they could be controlled. An idea of greatness, of something larger than themselves but humanity was quickly trying to close the gap. Convenience and accessibility had taken over. They called it advancement, Boreas preferred Murder. There can be no progress when the past is forgotten. For all his resentment, he was, in essence, unaffected. The weather still changed, the winters still came, but even those were becoming less elemental and more dictated. The others, however, they were not as fortunate. For once, Kalliope spoke from somewhere other than her greed and her need for dominance. She spoke from the heart, if she could be credited with such an organ after all these years.

He couldn’t help but grimace at the irony. The magnificent Kalliope, Muse of the glorious voice, reduced to nothing more than a wicked and calculating wordsmith in an age that wanted nothing to do with her.

His bones ached with the confinement of his human form. Everyone has a sunset. Even the immortal.

The false daylight of lightening coming through the flimsy window pane startled Boreas out of his slump. The meeting had ended with no resolution in sight. So here he sat, cold, sore and drunk with no idea what to do next. Waiting was the next step, he supposed. And he hated waiting.

He creaked to a standing position and flung the window open, letting the rain lash against his face for a moment. He could hear the brotherly taunts of the West wind and he closed the window to block him out. He pulled the dejected curtain closed and resumed his pacing without the company of his brandy.

He had walked a thin line last night. Their meetings usually dissolved into petty nitpickings and things had gotten too close to the quick for him.

“But really, I would think you would be the most concerned out of all of us here.” Kalliope was not one to let things go easily and she had resumed her pretentious tone.

Sentimentality is wasted on the cynics.

“Right. Suddenly because I’m one of the few ones with a brain here to realize the consequences of this, I’m the poster child for saving humanity and Erato and the rest of us? Please.”

“Oh come now Boreas. We all know your—loyalties—are a bit complex when it comes to the mortals. And it’s not like you were a stranger to our missing charge.” She eyed him coolly. She had laid her snare. “Then again, temptation is a demon we all face.”

“Oh come off it already. So I assuaged a few aching marriage pains here and there! Why that makes me in charge of her when she goes missing is beyond me. It was sex. It’s what she does.” He took a ragged breath. “And what my “loyalties” have to do with anything I don’t know. I’ll tell you one thing though, when it comes to finding our precious Erato, my loyalties are going to be a lot more helpful than your pathetic attempts at seceding. You can’t break what’s bound. Not even you, my dear, sweet Muse.” Boreas clenched his fists on the table.

The fall from grace had been a short one for him. His marriage was inescapable and boring and she was pure light and energy. Naturally he had chosen opportunity over morals. He had never listened before and life was better when you had no compass directing your steps in all the wrong directions.

“You aren’t exactly a stranger to betrayal though, are you? No. You talk about loyalties as if you knew what they were. Perhaps our silent Apollo could offer something more.”

It was his turn to throw salt. The tightrope was strung. Icy blue eyes stared into eyes just as blue and just as cold.

“You may not want to continue, Boreas.” Apollo’s voice came as cooled steel from the forge.

“Ah. So you do speak after all, our great bringer of Justice.” Boreas sneered. He had little concern for boundaries when he wasn’t angry. Let them try his patience now.

“Perhaps we could all learn something from studying your past then, Boreas. That would be a justice in its own right, now wouldn’t it. Why don’t you enlighten us with a few learned lessons?”

Boreas blanched but only for a fraction of a second. Kalliope saw it though and he knew it. That brought the color rushing back to his sallow cheeks.

“You have no proof of anything and you know it. Let it be.”

“Then I suggest you leave my integrity in tact for tonight.”

The fact that they both did not turn into piles of ash right there at the table had surprised more than just Boreas but at this point, it didn’t really seem to matter. He scrubbed his hands through his hair.

The pig was eight hours late and there was no sign of him showing any time soon.

He should go out for more brandy.

Spiders and I need to reach an understanding

2008-07-26T16:39:00.000-07:00

I hate them. They should fear me. We're good. Except, I'm a total pussy. I scurried from the bathroom to go find the vacuum at midnight thirty so I could destroy a daddy long legs. Why? Because I can't actually bring myself to A: get that close enough to one and B: I can't kill something bigger than a quarter (this guy was a really long legged daddy long legs) without feeling somewhat guilty.

The kid is safe despite my threats.

I don't get it though-I have this like sixth sense about bugs and spiders in general. I can be minding my own business and all of a sudden I look up without any reason and there's a spider no one else can even spot immediately crawling on the ceiling.

It happens all. the. time.

I have only one solution: I'm turning into Spiderwoman.

Or I'm a paranoid.

I'll let the readers decide. Either way...no more stupid bugs for one day. Spent the day cleaning out and destroying Spider Valhalla in the garage (well...more like watching the woman of the house do the destroying while I stood just outside putting together moving boxes with my hood over my head in the heat to avoid getting grossness in my hair and whatever....trying to look busy and not freaked out and utterly disgusted.) and packing and repacking things into new boxes for the upcoming move.

And then, the ultimate reward...we drove to Oldenburg (just imagine two dots above the O and U respectively) and spent the entire day at the sauna. These God blessed, heaven sent little creations where you get to run around sans clothing in an entirely chill environment enjoying various scented baths, swimming pools etc. Not that people don't know what a sauna is but it's just cool. It's like a spa but affordable. And I have to get up, get dressed and play with the kids once every few hours. It was good stuff.

We spent the whole day there like I said...I collected the kid from the play area, brought him up to the main sauna area, he ate some ice cream, the parents and I drank a beer, hung out and then went back out for more punishment hehe.

Das kind was a bit hyper...ok a lot hyper...even a solid thwack on the head (not induced by me sadly) couldn't shut him up or get him to listen. One of these days I'll accidentally shove him front of something big and let him get the idea the hard (er) way. He's already been sentenced to do the dishes until February after every meal for smarting off...I'll start pulling computer time next.

Aren't I just a big ol' smelly foot. I ruin all the fun. Heh.

He's on this kick recently where he's decided he is God and is therefore the best and most clever at everything. Sort of makes me wonder why he's the one who ends up on his butt every time we play what he calls "karate". Hm. Perhaps the Master is letting his humble student (apparently me) win because I'm a girl. That's his reasoning.

I think it's because he's a good for nothing 11 year old ragamuffin hehe. I mean that nicely, he's a sweet kid. Sort of a stinker but whatever. He's 11. (c:

Nothing rocketing or particularly esoteric or philosophic or intelligent for this evening...I'm tired. (C: Lots of sun and playing and moving and yeah...good things today.

Met a guy who speaks 10 languages. Totally awesome. I'm aiming for 5 at the moment. I have about 1 and a half if you count English but whatever...I'm getting there. It looks like I'll be getting signed up for German lessons and French lessons in Stuttgart because I really want to learn and it's sort of required for that day whenever I decide if I'm going to pursue my art history degree.

Ooo...got some good news today too-there is a lady down in Weston, MO who wanted my jewelry in her store...my friend and business partner in crime brought it all down and she loved it. I guess there were some people looking things over before my friend even left. This could be good.

Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to do about getting more merchandise to my friend in the States by the 1st of August hehe...that might be a bit of a problem. We'll see what happens.

I found some cool bead stores online in Germany that have good shipping prices and the such for inter-country stuffs so that could end up saving me some money. Also, one of them is in a port town so their prices are low. This is a good thing. :D

Off to do some searching and sleeping.

Riding the coattails and Standing on the shoulders as it were

2008-07-23T14:28:00.000-07:00

Ok, so here's another random posting about something that Ello wrote about on her blog...it got me thinking. I seem to need other people for that now...and it's helpful that I stumbled across a group of inspiring people.

So-on to the musings-

Her post is discussing the different associations and conclusions people have or come to while reading different stories. This is something that has always interested me as well...I had a teacher tell me once that part of the attraction of specific genres is that the reader knows, sort of, what they're going to get. Which sounds obvious, however, it's also a good point. There's a certain level of expectation that happens within each genre. This is more true with genres than with writers I think...in the sense that a writer can change their voice and tone and style to suit each genre (some better than others) so that each book in each genre delivers something appropriate as it were. When I run out to buy a new book I tend to look at them like I do clothes or accessories sometimes-much in the way I wake up each morning and decide what style I'm in the mood for, I also have to decide what style of book I'm interested in reading. What feels right?

Now then-my question is, are we drawn to different books because they remind of us of such and such story or movie or whatever, is it because of the feeling we get when we read a certain type of story (are these the same thing just in different forms?)

There's a lot of answers and probably the answer is "yes to all" but how much control does the author have over the trains of thought the reader boards while reading his or her book? How many times have authors or authors-to-be shied away from writing a certain book or using certain scenes, characterizations, options, conflict resolution etc. because it reminded them too much of so and so or they felt that it had already been done.

The thing that I find so interesting, personally, is how many times I've done this. We all have an inner quest to be original. creative. snowflakes. However, when you look at things and at people's lives, I find quite often that I am not, despite the beliefs we held when we were younger, the only one to have gone through various conflicts (having to go to bed early, getting our hearts broken, all that good mushy hallmark stuff and others).

These things are cliche because they've happened over and over again. So what's to say that an author can't "copy" an idea...how much of this is ok? How much should be changed about a story or conflict or the approach to a conflict to make it more original, personal, more specific to that author's sensitivities.

I have a huge hang-up with my writing because of these questions. I find myself saying...literally all the time...oh so and and so already wrote something like that so I can't do it. And then other half of my brain goes "ok, but lots of people have had problems with their fathers or their mothers or have lost a love or have pined away secretly for years and been driving mad or...or...or..." so I argue with myself. A lot. Can I, Should I...I am consistently stuck between trying to reinvent the wheel and wade through all the damn wheels I already have lying around for my use.

"Beyond the Seven Seas' is idling right now because of this debate. I have the "easy" and "logical" choice that may be appropriate for the genre that I'm writing but I am refusing to use it because I feel like it's been done so many times and in so many different ways that I feel like a hack. Granted, it would probably put forward motion back into my vocabulary and let the story continue but I think that it would only do so because at that point I'd just be following in too many footsteps. Ok, so some of that is fine, I don't really believe that anyone can write a fantasy fiction novel without having some throw back to Tolkien or McCaffery or any of those.

And then there's the whole idea of influence. Of course (warning, blanket statement) people who have only read a certain type of book will most likely turn around and write that sort of book...it goes along with the idea of writing the type of book you would like to read I think (thanks again Tim)--which is really good advice and also really difficult for me. I want to write the kind of book I like to read but I want to make it original enough that I don't feel like a copy cat.

My influences are all over though-at times it's great because I feel like I have a decent sized bucket-o-junk or just-add-water options floating around in my head that I've snatched from the various science fiction, "modern literature" (I can't think of the actual genre heading at the moment so that will have to do), humor, fantasy and non-fiction historical that I've read....my instinct is to smash them together. Ok, so that's what I'm aiming to do with Beyond the Seven Seas because I believe that in a lot of ways that's how life works. We all have elements of magic and drama and humor and the such in our lives...and these experiences and examples are ours for the taking and so what if so and so got there first? Isn't there enough to go around?

And yet. And yet.

I sit here and I wonder what other angle, what new perspective, what different idea can I take that will make my idea (which seems to change by the minute) and my vision really come to life?

I knew going into this book that I was going to have problems because Neil Gaiman had, in essence, beaten me to the punch. Ok, so I'm not Neil Gaiman...I'm not trying to be-I also feel that he hasn't said everything that can be said about this specific type of writing but at the same time I'm not sure what it is I'm trying to say.

Someone please tell me...what is my point? hehe.

So far I've deduced that I want to write a book that I would like to read that gives me the feeling I get when I hear "Dante's Prayer" by Loreena McKennitt that evokes images and ideas of the magic in life that happens when we aren't really looking or expecting it, that ties us to a sense of our history and a sense of our Jungian group story, that pays homage to the idea of Myth and Mythology because those are our roots as storytellers I think and that touches people and that pushes their ideas about the way they interact with others. And that celebrates being an artist because those are the kind of characters I like to read. Maybe because I am striving to be like them.

I read books because I want to emulate all those wonderfully sensuous, meaty, creative, damn funny, cheeky characters I meet.

I write because I have this noise in my brain that needs an outlet and sometimes, verbal thinker or not, I need to give it form that I can see and revisit and god knows, edit.

So....where does this leave me.

Darkness

2008-07-19T13:36:00.000-07:00

Is avoiding Germany. It's 10:30pm and it's not dark out yet. That is so not fair. I kicked the kid out to "go to bed" 'cause I had been hangin' out with him since 9am pretty much non-stop except when he made himself sparse while his mom and i were packing boxes...but yeah...now i wanna go outside and play. Stuttgart. Stuttgart. Must. Get. To. Stuttgart. There's actually things to do there. (c:

So here's something that's plagued me for years. Seriously. I have a strong aversion to old people. And I mean that in a few different ways. Mainly, people who have a mindset that for whatever reason, life is broken into segments-childhood, the good years and the dreaded rest.

Now then, keep in mind, this is in no direct reference to any of the people who read or who are part of this blogging community because you are all examples of really cool people who seem excited that tomorrow is another day, not concerned. (c:

That being said-people of all real ages can be old. You'll recognize it by the "well, when I was young I used to blah blah blah." Why'd they stop? Sometimes there are legit reasons but even things like injuries or a stressful job or whatever can be rehabilitated, worked around, changed, incorporated, something. Just because we hit a certain age doesn't mean we have to suddenly forget all the things that we were doing when we were X years old.

I remember a few months before I left for Europe Part 1 I thought I had really lost my wits...I couldn't think straight. At all. Short term memory was gone almost entirely, to the point where it was embarrassing. I couldn't remember what I was doing, why I was doing it, who I had talked to recently, you name it. I was living in a whole 'nother world. The worst part, I didn't know why. I had no idea if it was stress, hormones, whatever. For all I knew I had literally gone nuts. My cerebral cortex took a nap. And, I was all emotion. Think Phinaes Gage except I was missing the railroad tie. So I did what any normal human would do...I sucked it up, went to a doctor and told them what my problems were. I thought it was my thyroid or a severe hormonal imbalance due to something else or whatever...the doctor, a man of about 45, said to me "well, you are getting older..." Older? That's the reason my brain went to shit? because I turned 25? You've got to be kidding me....I can't imagine what he would tell a man who came in in his 50's or 60's complaining of a sore knee. Well, you know, you are going to die soon....heh.

I'm digressing a bit, but it remains that people have a preconceived notion of what is "supposed" to happen or not happen when they/others reach a certain age. I get that we aren't all Duracell Bunnies designed to live forever in perfect health. Fine. But there's certainly no reason that I can see to become so fixated on the idea of a number or whatever that we change our lives and our thinking.

Back to my digression-I decided after this laughable answer to go to a Neuro-Psych. Not cheap, them guys. But, I went, the day before I was scheduled to get on a plane and leave, to figure out if I was crazy or not. We talked. We did memory tests. I aced them. He told me to get on a plane and have a good time and not worry about it. I did. I still can't explain why what happened, happened, nor can I say that I feel like nothing ever happened at all...but I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with me being "older".

Maybe my intense relationship with all the ups and downs and whatevers coming to an end, maybe the weight of what I was anticipating to be one of the biggest choices I could make was stressing me out, maybe it was all the things going on rolled into one. It certainly wasn't worn out synapses and dendrites ready to shuffle off to buffalo.

And back to the point: I think the thing I get the most sick of hearing about is when people start griping about all the things they wished they'd learned when they were young. Well, what are you doing tomorrow? There's a junior college right down the street. I hear they have things called classes there. Or, better yet, if you're in KC (and probably elsewhere, i'm sort of ignorant sometimes), there's a thing called Communiversity, geared towards people who aren't probably going to quit everything for a second degree but would like to learn more or something new. Instead, people loaf around not learning anything-or worse, not reinforcing what they do know, and what happens? Their brains and their bodies tend to atrophy. I think I get especially pissed when I tell people that I'm learning other languages and they say "oh, well, it's too late for that. Study says you should do it between..." blah blah blah. Pardon me while my eardrums start to bleed.

You either want to learn or you don't. I argue that aside from some of the tonal languages because of the actual physiological and neurological things that have to happen from the beginning, any adult can re-route their thinking to that of when they were little to learn a language. Take away the pressures of day to day life, add complete and total patience of others to repeat and repeat and point and repeat and slow things down and associate action and pictures and objects with words over and over again like they did when we were little, and any adult can learn just as fast , as well and as thoroughly as any 3 year old.

I concede that I'm coming at this whole tirade from some very specific and privileged perches:

1. I'm 25. I'm sure everyone who's ever suffered later on thought life was ripe and for the picking when they were my age too

2. I have parents who are older than most-like my parents are basically the age of some people's grandparents, and or roughly the same age as people 20 years older than me-so this changes my perspective on what people can or cannot accomplish. My mom is amazing. I'm not disclosing ages but people think that she's a good 20 years younger than she is based on how she dresses, looks, acts, her interests, etc.

3. My grandmother on my mom's side turned 100 in January. Up until about...6 or 7 months ago, she lived by herself. In her own home. Taking care of herself. She's still going strong but she had some complications with glaucoma and the such that put a kink in the ways she does things. This is a woman who has not only had but recovered successfully from two falls-the kind that would kill most others. And she's funny. And lucid. And opinionated. I know where I get it from I guess.

I argue that all of these are due in part to good genes, ok fine, but also to the fact that most everyone in my life that others consider "old" are passionate about something. With my mom, it varies. With my grandma, it's religion. Whatever it takes to keep you interested, invested and active. I don't care. I'll put up with dogmas and getting huge envelopes stuffed with Good Housekeeping articles about gardening, eating natural and sun protection (thanks mom) if I have to if it means that the people in my life, who have shaped my life, continue to act in a way that keeps them plugged in.

I dunno, I just hope with everything that I am and with the motto of "actions must match intentions" that I can keep myself far away from the hypocritical side of this argument and look back when I'm however old and be truly confident that I did, learned, pushed and cared about everything and anything.

In Oryx and Crake Margaret Atwood writes a character named Crake. Without busting any plot bubbles, there's one idea I think sums my opinions up beautifully. He turns to Jimmy and says "immortality is just the unawareness of the end of life." Or something akin to that...

What with all my wizened years, exact quotes tend to escape me. Or I read too much.

I wasn't kidding.

2008-07-17T17:32:00.000-07:00

So unnecessary yet so funny.

I'd say...8 years old. The copyright lies.

Can I marry that Rives guy? He's awesome. :D

Great videos!

Speaking of 4 in the morning...it's creeping up on that here and since I slept 'til 11am and made poor Alex think I was dead or something, I should probably go to sleep.

I figured it would make a good post...

2008-07-17T10:04:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this was sparked by my apparent need to ramble about this topic given the length of my comment on Lisa's blog. Ahem.

For those who haven't been there yet, you should read her post about poetry. And then come back and read mine.

I have issues. I'm picky. I'm opinionated. I am not comfortable with the general populace's idea of "creativity" nor am I comfortable with my own.

I have an excessive amount of sarcasm and cynicism coupled with a ridiculously loud inner child.

I hate people who claim to be "artists" and then make junk. I repeat: I'm opinionated. I'm not defining junk by your level of skill. Technique does not alone make one an artist. I know some really technically sound people who make junk art.

I'm also not talking about that wishy washy bullshit that the people I can't stand call "meaning". Art either reaches people or it doesn't. Images, words, all those things have a way to impact people. Technique is one of them, granted but I will argue until I die that even the crudest, most simplistic technique can have just as much impact on someone as anything done by the great artists of our time and before.

I have a friend who is an amazing photographer. This person has done some really great stuff. Problem is, this same person gets "talky" when they get going about their art. They are really intelligent and they are really good at talking about their work...to the point that they take any of the spirit the work possessed and kill it with a barage of nonsense and "art speak". It's sad. What's even sadder is that other people lap it up like it was milk dribbled from a golden breast. A lot of head nodding, mm-hmming and all that other stuff. Makes me wonder what they're really thinking.

Maybe I sound jealous. Or self-conscious. I might be. Probably. But really...at what point does it go from being a thoughtful explanation about what you were really thinking or feeling or wanting to express to filling the space to distract from the fact that maybe the piece just didn't manage to say what you thought it would so you feel like you have to say it yourself?

If anyone else managed to follow that overly complicated thought pattern, please, let me know. We'll have coffee.

I think the problem I have with most artists or poets or with myself is that crossing of the line from sincerity to bullshit. I hate it when people glamorize anything to the point that it just becomes another trinket to throw on the meaningless propaganda pile.

Poetry can be amazing. It can also suck. A lot. The same is true for art in general.

My greatest fear as a person who happens to accidentally be creative from time to time..I don't want to be one of those "fake artists" who end up doing all the talking for their work when it should be doing the talking for themselves. I think there's a level of spiritual comfort, trust, love, etc. that has to happen before the art we create can start talking for itself. I know that a lot of the time all the talking the artist does is a way to get there...I respect that. Just don't insult my intelligence or my ability to detect bullshit.

There are people out there who criticize abstract artists and classicists alike. I'm not talking about a specific genre here really...anything can be intellectualized to death.

I think it boils down to intention. Whether that's a known intention or not, if a person is capable of sitting down and capturing whatever it is they're doing with a pure enough intention, a sort of "art for art's sake" (blanking on the terminology for that thinking) but without all the hype, then the art will do what it's supposed to do. Communicate. Which, in my opinion, is a natural and completely unavoidable by-product of creating. Sorry to all you people out there who really wish you could make art about "not saying anything at all" That's actually saying something. I'm looking at it, I'm a conscious (most times...depends on how much free wine you've offered at your opening) viewer thinking about what I'm looking at and that, to me, is the basis for communication. Whether it goes any further than that, is irrelevant.

I've been guilty of being a over talky artist. I've "given" worth and merit to a piece that sucked and was laying quiet as a dead church mouse on the canvas because I was too afraid to admit that what I'd made was, well, a good effort and a valiant try and all those self-affirming things, but that really it just didn't work. My heart wasn't in it, my intention was to get attention instead of just make what I was feeling, something went wrong.

It's ok. It happens. I am blessed and honored to know some truly creative and artistic people. What I find interesting is that most of them, when asked about what they do or why or how, can give the basic answers but that's it. Their work really does speak for itself. It's an amazing thing.

Tim has a quote in his resource for writers that I'm going to (hopefully somewhat accurately) quote here: "Don't let the writing get in the way of the storytelling. It's just the method you're choosing to use to convey your story." I feel the same way about art.

Don't let your (insert media here) get in the way of what you're actually doing. It's just the method. Not the thing itself.

Arthur Dove has one of my favorite quotes "We cannot truly express the light in nature because we have not the sun. We can only express the light we have in ourselves."

Phew.

Ok. That's over with. Please, disagree with me. :D

3....2.....1...

2008-07-16T08:22:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I just woke up from one of those naps that feel like you might as well have been asleep for weeks...serious stuff. (c:

heh...so everything I own smells like Herbal Essences. This isn't usually a bad thing, except that it's not mine. Turns out someone's stuff emptied near or onto my bag and the straps on my backpack and outside pockets smell really, really, intensely like shampoo now.

I'll have to avoid rainstorms.

So-dunno why but it struck my fancy to post one of my photos from switzerland on here....I put the rest onto www.flickr.com/photos/rissifish so if any of ya'll are interested, you can go check out the stuff there. One day, I will eventually get a full fledged account and you can look at all my random stuff instead of just the first 200.

So...enjoy.

I think I might die.

2008-07-15T21:55:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

So. Fucking. Tired.

I left my house at 7am on the 14th. I sat in Cincinnati until 7:50pm...got on an 8 hour flight. Didn't really sleep though should have since I had the damn row to myself. And my headphones were broken so I only got to hear half the movie. Whine.

Arrived in London at 8am. Sat around going through customs until 9am. Got interogated by the daft lady at the counter..~if you don't have a return ticket, how can you tell me you're leaving in September?~ Because I can lady. Leave me the hell alone. She finally gave up and let me through. Augh.

Hung about London for the day, made it to my hotel which was awesome...was going to go to bed early...people were talking and laughing downstairs. It happens. They stopped...I still couldn't sleep. I had crossed into the "I might die zone" of being too tired to sleep.

Went to sleep at 10:30pm. Woke up to my phone ringing really loudly at 2:30am. Went back to sleep. Got up at 4:45am.

I am now sitting in the airport feeling like I'm about to fall over or pass out or throw up, I'm not sure which.

And I figured I would share because whining always makes things better. Heh. I know, it'll pass. I am just going to have to tell Alex and Carola that unless they want to deal with me literally hitting the deck, they'd better let me go to sleep when I get to the house for at least a few hours. Cause really. I can't function like this.

Ok...going to go drink my wimpy ass cappuccino and contemplate crying. (c:

Otherwise, first half of the journey has been great. More on the cutest little B and B in England when we return from these messages. Or I've slept. One or the other.

The Things I Do.

2008-07-14T13:20:00.000-07:00

I have spent more time in this airport at the moment than I did working the entirety of last week.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

I'm in Cincinnattucky...the blip on the map that is Cincinatti/Northern Kentucky Airport. I will be here until 7:50pm their time.

That's a strange phrase if you think about it...their time. Our time. We humans sure do like to claim things. I'm going to invent my own time zone to live in. One where layovers are never 8 hours long (though I did it to myself this time) and I can be in two places at the same "time".

So had a great day on Friday. I went down to the First Friday's in Downtown, did a little pimping of my artwork and had some success. It was good stuff. Really good stuff. I spent yesterday running around with friends in a sort of final hurrah before I leave for the wild blue until September. I don't know if I'm excited about going back or happy or what.

I'm sort of in the middle. Lots of opportunities in lots of different places.

I reserved a booth at the River Market Arts Festival too this weekend...it's in September and I"m planning on being back in town for it so that should be good. Hopefully that works out well in the end. I'd like to have some new pieces to show off but we'll see, it will depend on when I return and what I get done in Europe and how transportable it is.

I rocked the packing yesterday. Got everything washed, packed and stored (the stuff I wasn't taking) in record time. I could now effectively escape in the middle of the night if I ever had to hehe. Travelling is good practice for stuff like that. :D

So now that I'm going to be going back to Germany, I am planning on sitting down a writing more of the Dicken's Challenge stuff. I know...I know...I could buy lunch if I had a dollar for every time I've said that, but I swear I mean it this time because I'm not going to be distracted quite as much. Though, Stuttgart is going to be vastly more exciting than Wilhelmshaven I can guarantee it.

I need to find a post office type place somewhere in this airport. I don't know if they're equipped with one but here's hoping. If the airport were located anywhere near the city and I could reach it reasonably I would go explore a bit..the weather looks amazing outside. I took the shuttle back and forth a few times just for the sunshine dosage. I'm pathetic I know.

Crossing my fingers it won't be raining in London. I might have better luck of finding 300 dollars in my shoe magically but last time I was there it didn't rain at all so maybe it will be good just for me. I broke down and reserved an expensive (Debit card is still crying over it) hotel room about 3 minutes from the airport. Normally I wouldn't do it, but my flight leaves at 6:40am. I repeat, at 20 to the ungodly hour of 7am I have to be on a flight. I need to arrive at the airport by at least 5:30am. The bus from London proper takes 1 hour, 45 minutes to get there so yeah...to save myself having to get up and be on a bus at like, 3:30am I sucked it up and paid for a hotel room with a free transfer and a continental breakfast. I will just have to be really really good while I"m gone and not touch my bank account hehe. Otherwise, I won't get home.

Ok...going to go find a plug to power my laptop up again.

More once I reach the other side of the pond.

Mushy Brain Syndrome

2008-07-06T22:17:00.000-07:00

Yes folks, that's the new terminology. I think I've got a severe case of it lately. I claim no responsibility for the nonsense that shall be spilled tonight but I seem to have a case of itchy fingers and I decided that I should get on here and put them to good use. I know...sounds sensible right? heh. We'll see.

So tonight has been the night for random thoughts.

Random Thought 1:

Why do people (ok, me and a few others I've noticed), apologize for using phrasing, terminology or language that puts an emotional or spiritual spin on something that usually isn't associated with being either? If that doesn't make sense, I'll dig around for an example. I'll use myself since I'm the easiest to pick on, though some of you out there do it too (c: I, for one, catch myself, no matter how many times I tell myself I'm not going to do it, giving a sort of disclaimer for saying things that some people may find new age-ish, hippy, woo woo (sorry to steal the phrase Tim), or whatever. At the moment I'm blanking on an explicit example but whatever. I'll think of something.

My question is, why? So what if we want to talk about something common and ordinary in a way that it isn't normally spoken about? If that's how it's making us feel and we are fortunate enough to be able to put words to it, then why shouldn't we? Personally, I think it's because I'm afraid that people will internally snicker and think "yah...whatever...crazy hippy." Whether that's because I've shamefully thought of other people that way myself or because I secretly think I'm a crazy hippy or if it's because I'm still harboring some latent guilt from being raised very, very opposite of "crazy hippy" I don't exactly know.

Perhaps we are afraid of being seen as irrational, insane, unhinged or without a strong sense of "reason and logic" anymore. I pride myself on occassionally being intelligent and interesting and I think I feel like going out on philosophical limbs can put those traits in jeopardy, even though I know that going out on those limbs is what allows me the luck of being occassionally intelligent and interesting. Snake why don't you try some tail.

I am looking forward to the day when I can openly, freely and confidently talk about or mention things like the power of attraction, the laws of intention, straightening out the lines of energy or giving my chakras a good spring cleaning without having to add disclaimers, excuses, apologies or warnings beforehand. My usual behavior goes something like this..."talk talk talk talk talk...well, I think (or, I just read, or I heard). Pause. I know this is going to sound a bit out there, new age-ish whatever but I don't care. Pause. Gather thoughts. I think...talk talk talk talk. Wait for snickers, arched eyebrows or damning."

I usually get good responses, unless it's my mother, but that's a whole 'nother story.

Random Thought 2.

Why is leaving equally easy and difficult? Don't things usually weigh a little more heavily one way or the other? For me, I find myself perpetually stuck in a push and pull between staying and not staying. Not exactly leaving, just not staying. At the moment, it's black and white. I am going back to Europe. I am excited. I also feel like I am leaving in the wrong mindset though. I faced struggles here with family and extended "family" that I was not anticipating. I get it, life is full of dissappointments. And one day, I'll learn to just buck up and take it but at the moment I am afflicted by some bruised feelings and it makes me angry. There was no reason for it whatsoever but it's happened and now there's not enough time to fix it. Except, that if I really believed that, I wouldn't care that I was leaving and it wouldn't be a big deal. So tomorrow is another day and I will try in the ways that I know how to fix whatever it is I broke. Though, as these things usually are, I think I walked into something that was already broken but had been hastily thrown together with chewing gum and desperation and am now taking the blame for it falling apart again.

I spend too much time wanting people to like me. Or wanting honesty. One or the other. Hm.

Random Thought 3

Meditation. The word itself puts me in a better mood. I love it. However, over the past few months I feel like I've got a short circuit between me and the ether. Or silence. However you prefer to think of it. I sit down, I get the music going, I count my breathing. And I wait for the familiar sense of something to happen and I get nada. It's like all the components are working but they aren't talking to each other. This has been representing itself in other areas of my life, so I suppose it makes sense. Whether it's the lack of successful reflection/meditation that's causing it or if it's the other way around, I haven't deciphered yet. But it's a bit frustrating at times.

I have know that mediation/reflection/reconnecting with silence can be done without having to "formalize" it but there is something really satisfying to me about sitting down and going through the process of getting centered. I should just do yoga instead maybe.

I have been getting some work done on new art pieces, which is awesome. And really fulfilling. Especially when things seem to be working. Shh...don't tell the pieces otherwise they'll change their mind and stop cooperating. I found some cool new dye stuffs that get the job done quick and nice and that allow me to get to the more time consuming part of direct application (fancy shmancy talk for using a brush and straight dye to color the fabric), embroidery, collage and all those other fun things. I am working towards the Germany Art Residence postmark deadline so the time it all consumes can't be too much longer but if I keep working I'll reach the end soon enough (I know...stunning logic there). I just have to keep going.

And finally,

Random Thought 4

I need to find a really cool gift for an 11 year old German boy before the 14th of July and I need it to be something relatively inexpensive, packable, durable (he's a bit careless at times) and as mentioned, ultimately cool. It would be nice if it were something his sister couldn't get her hands on either. Hm. Thoughts? Anyone? Bueller? I've never been an 11 year old boy (I think thankfully) so I don't quite know what objects qualify as what I've outlined. He likes Pokemon.

Quick! Hide the tea!

2008-07-04T22:40:00.000-07:00

Happy 4th of July. (c: Though at this moment, it's technically not the 4th anymore. It's the 5th, which is less exciting.

Regardless, I hope everyone out there had a safe and fun holiday. Mine was decent this year...better than some, not quite as cool as some of the others but generally all good.

We watched things go boom, we made some things go bang and we lit really, really giant sparklers. Still the best toy ever. (c:

I spent the beautiful sunny day having a bike ride and painting at a friend's house and then came back and ate some dinner and enjoyed some fireworks.

There's a party tomorrow evening...going to go rock that out I do believe. Hopefully (c: Lots of insanity-though I'm only going to know two people so hopefully I can make some new friends.

There is an artist residence in Germany that pays you a monthly stipend so I am frantically trying to get my stuff together for that application. It sounds amazing. It is amazing.

1200 euros a month. Fully furnished apartment complex. A chance to spend 6 months working on art. uninterrupted. Cool. (c:

Alrighty...off to bed. G'night.

If there was an onomotopoeic word for the noise my brain was making...

2008-06-25T21:27:00.000-07:00

I'd use it. But there isn't. I have a bit too much energy it would seem.

Surprise surprise.

This is a frequent occurrence with me. The stars align, the cosmos conspire with the tides and the next thing you know, I'm bouncing off the walls.

Or it might be the five hours of painting and the hour of bellydancing I did tonight. There is something so completely intoxicating and infusing about spending time with creative people. My friend and I got together today at the local coffeeshop for some canvas manipulation. I played with oils for the first time. I like them. Let me rephrase that...I Loooooove them. I can paint and paint and paint and paint and it just keeps blending and then, guess what? I can cut more light spots into the paint and repeat the whole process!

It's amazing. I also bought this really whacky and chunky matte medium gel stuff and made one of the loudest paintings ever...I love it. It looks like a rusty wall or something with this crazy aqua blue green patina. It's really fun and I'm amused. I did it with acrylics cause I'm impatient and I wanted to create something on the fly.

Tomorrow I am going to be taking some photographs of my friend who is pregnant. She's due in 7 weeks and she wants to get some good photos done. It is a sensitive subject for me for various reasons and I'm really looking forward to digging into some great photos with her. We are going to be heading down to Westport, which is the grungy, arty, bohemian-esque, local coffee shop beat out StarBucks part of town (you know, where the art kids and the homeless people hang out together). They have some really great graffitied walls and some funky places mixed with park settings that I think would be really nice.

not that I'm a professional photographer but I can take a decent photo. I'm even going to do it with the dirty F word (film. film!) which I prefer for certain things like this. Anything that gets me more into the process I'm good with.

I've been doing a lot of thinking. I should be doing a lot of reading, jewelry making and cleaning but instead I've been doing a little of those and lots of pondering. Which is both a blessing and a curse. It can spur action as much as it can completely stop me in my tracks.

I am twenty five. I have always been of the mindset that people can do whatever they want, when they want. If you are fifty and want to change careers, I'm tempted to say you can do it if you have the right mindset and attitude. However, I am not in the popular thinking stream with this. I'm ok with all that but it's frustrating. I feel like my walls of "Do anything anytime" are slowly closing in around me, or worse, dissipating into the muggy humidity of the Midwest. I don't like the term "biological clock" or "becoming more career focused" What if I'm not concerned with having kids before I'm 30 or landing that sweet spot job that makes me a bunch of money?

More power to me right? So why do I feel sometimes like instead of being bolstered forward into my bright and shiny future without limits I'm just getting sat on and slowly squashed down by the monster of Reality?

It's a bit dramatic but it sucks. I know, in my heart, that I can live a creative life. Whatever that

means. I also know that eventually I am going to have to focus my energy on something. Whether that's my painting, my jewelry design, my interior design stuff, wedding specialty projects, playing guitar, going to a good grad school and becoming an art historian, traveling the world, etc. etc. etc.

you see my point? I'm like a synapse in an ADHD brain with too much caffeine. Boing. Boing. Boing. It's not that I don't stick with things either...I just tend to do them all at the same time. It makes for some really messy guitar strings and some really colorful art history pages.

I like the weird kinetic energy that I seem to thrive on-I know that's all that matters. I also like having lots of stuff to do so I can take a moment away from certain things without being left without a creative outlet.

I don't like being told that I'm getting too old to do this or being accused of being a freeloader (I'm really not. I'm just borrowing a bedroom with my dad for 2 months. First time in five years I haven't been paying rent, working, dealing with a car, extra curricular lessons and making art. so poo on him).

I wish there was a way of transmitting mental zen to other people so they could be happy living their lives and just as happy to let me live mine the way I want to.

I will eventually get a retirement fund. I will eventually find a "career". I will move back to the states, for an undisclosed amount of time, and focus my energy on all those important things I keep hearing about....painting, drawing, making music. I mean...rent, bills, student loans and the GRE test books.

When are some times you have felt pressure from others to change your life or your aspirations and refused to give in? It's not that all the pressures I'm getting are negative, they're just clueless. Have you encountered the same thing before? What was your response?

And lastly, since this is my blog and not twenty questions, did you find a way to make them understand or did you just find new friends?

Stolen Meme

2008-06-24T21:01:00.000-07:00

I like Meme's....I can just answer questions. They are like the adult versions of MASH or something.

Anyway....shamelessly stolen without being invited (sorry...) from Lisa.

What were you doing 10 years ago?

Ten years ago...well...I was attending ThunderRidge High School in Highlands Ranch Colorado. I was 15. I was on the verge of having a driver's permit. I was taking AP Literature and Composition and reading a lot of books. I was an awkward kid in a lot of ways. I had just gotten braces, which I had fought against for umpteen years and finally lost the battle against. Unlike most kids, I didn't really mind them all that much. They were taken off the day of my senior prom so I lucked out. I also begged a lot. Like, a lot.

I was living with my mom (obviously) on the same street and in the same house I had been living in since I was born and I had a crazy dog that I named (at the age of 6) Pup Pup.

I worked at McDonald's because I could walk and I remember starting off making 6.15/hour and then getting a ten cent raise. I also remember being told that if I worked as much as I talked, I'd be a lot better off. I haven't ever forgotten that manager or that....it still hasn't sunk in but she was right in a lot of ways. (c:

I was a year (or almost) into knowing one of the best people in my life and almost to the point where I would meet the next best person in my life though i didn't know it. I met my best friend and was learning how to be a normal kid...I spent a lot of my childhood without friends and I was seriously missing some of the "normal kid" requirements. But I got sorted out.

Five things on your to-do list for today

1. Go to the post office to mail Lisa's necklace that she ordered from me.

2. Run to the bead store

3. Meet up with a friend and fellow artist for some afternoon painting and art class instructing

4. Get my room cleaned up again

5. Dye my fabric that has been sitting on my floor waiting...patiently...

What would you do if you were a billionaire?

This question has always annoyed and fascinated me at the same time. On one hand, it's nice to think about all the things you would do or would like to do and yet I keep wanting to say "but what about what I can do now...why can't I do these things with less money?"

To indulge, however, momentarily in the idea of having endless amounts of money, I would start off by getting my mom a new house and getting some things set up for my dad and extended family. That's a given.

I would then turn around and purchase as many untouched rainforests as i could and leave them that way. I wouldn't let Kleenex (who are a bunch of dirty bastards) cut down any more trees for their stupid tissues http://www.kleercut.com/ and I would see about working out some sort of give and take program, work issue something or other that would allow people who really do rely on certain things to make money for their families to continue to do so...but with a bit more conservation in mind instead of just greed. I'm a hippie. I know.

I would also like to dump a bunch of money into our education systems....and control where it goes and who it goes to.

In short, I'd like to take over the world. Or at least reorganize a big part of big business...but with a charming diplomatic smile on my face and a big ol' fat check waiting for whomever...it'd work. (c:

And, I have to agree with Lisa, setting up several artist retreats that were paid for or could pay the artist that weren't only for the "elite" would be amazing. Totally a life dream. One that I intend to do without having to be a billionaire first. It would help but it's not required I don't think.

What are three of your bad habits?

1. Twirling my hair when I'm idle or really worked up...i'm like a wind up toy

2. Staying up really really late

3. Losing things. You know that phrase about losing your own head if it weren't attached to you? Yeah...it was created for me.

What are some snacks you enjoy?

1. Raisinets

2. Cashews or really any kind of nuts

3. Salt and Vinegar chips

4. Trail mix

5. Fruit. Lots of fruit. Specifically of the mango, apple or pear variety.

What were the last five books you read?

1. Water for Elephants which was darn good, darnit.

2. Let's Go Eastern Europe (yeah...i actually read the whole thing)

3. Really Loud and Extremely Close

4. Memoirs of my Melancholy Whores

5. 500 Bracelets (it was more of a looking through and not a reading...but i went through all of them)

I need to read more books soon. I've been slacking. Or I'm just having alzheimers at the moment and am forgetting something.

What are five jobs you have had?

Oh God...hehe..here we go, in no particular order

1. Subway Sandwhich Artist (gag me)

2. Bartender for two nights at a crazy Mexican bar where no one spoke English

3. Waitress at a Comedy Club that was run by some really whacky brothers who have sordid histories.

4. Administrative Assistant for a construction company

5. Owner of my own very small business

What are five places where you have lived?

1, Highlands Ranch, Colorado. I grew up here, I was raised here and I stayed here for 19 years until I moved away to...Drumroll

2. Kansas City-for college. This is where I currently live. I've been here about five years and I like the city and I have a lot of really great friends who put up with me and all my eccentricities.

3. Wilhelmshaven, Germany. I lived here for about 3 months off and on doing some artwork, hanging out with some kids and all that good stuff...

4. Mersin, Turkey. I lived here for 2 months with my family prior to starting all of my travels around Europe. It might be a bit of a short amount of time to really be considered "living" but it was close enough

5. I don't think there's a fifth one...I never moved as a kid. I guess I can say Europe. I lived in and around Europe for almost 7 months. I'm a big 'ol cheater I know.

So yeah...that's it.

My Friend's Wedding

2008-06-22T23:01:00.000-07:00

What a fantastic ceremony! My friend Deanna and her fiancee now husband James got married last night at the Uptown. Beautiful. She had an amazing photographer on site who caught some amazing photos of them at the ceremony, reception and during the pre-game scramble to get ready for everything. Great stuff.

It's strange to have my friends get married but in this situation, I think it's a really, really good match. They are both really mellow, really cool and fun people who fit together. I'm sure they will have their ups and downs like anyone or any couple but I have a really solid feeling that these two will come through to the end. I suppose we'll see. My friend said that she was excited to get started. That's a good thing to hear. I would think that is how it should be. You should be excited to start your life with someone-I have other friends who are married who are not in that place. I'm sure excitement will fade to something different but I can't see it being anything less than a much richer emotion.

Congratulations to my friends and good luck.

you can check out wedding photos here: joshsolarphoto.blogspot.com Amazing photographer and his lovely wife.

Blue Tiara

2008-06-19T23:46:00.000-07:00

I am wearing a blue tiara at the moment. It's utterly ridiculous. I love it. It was my friend's bachelorette party this evening-we went to a place called Pin Up Bowl and went to dinner at Jose Peppers. Good stuff. We dressed her in a tutu and veil, flashy bling awful rings and beads and took her bowling. Nothin' like it. I hope to have pictures soon hehe. She is getting married on Saturday. I am one of her bridesmaids so it's been a hectic week. I've never been a bridesmaid before. I think I might actually be allergic to weddings. I've worked enough banquets and sponsered dinners to know that much. However, I must say, my friend and her wedding plans have given me hope. It's going to be an awesome gig. Good music...no Baby Got Back, Hot in Here or other crap...no lame frilly over the top lace and beads and 4,000 dollar swans with ice sculptures. Instead, we have a classy black and white ska music theme (aka checkerboard), red and orange for some awesome accent colors, interesting flowers, classy bridemaid dresses (I can actually wear it again in public) and what is aiming to be a lot of fun. I'm actually excited.

Sort of makes me wonder if and when I ever get married or decide on any of that rubbish what sort of insane concoctions I'm going to come up with. My friend has managed to keep it about her and her originality and creativity. Which is something so many weddings sorely lack.

Pardon the digression.

It looks like some of my networking has paid off. I went and talked to a gallery downtown yesterday and the lady said that she would let me come in a sell during First Fridays when all the new shows open. She also said that any time I wanted to come down on a Saturday and sell I was welcome. This is good news seeing as I am trying to make some money for my fledgling business and work towards turning it into a real business. I am also trying to get some different art projects ready and worked on to submit for some of the upcoming art shows and the such that I'm reading about but I'm sort of running out of time. I'm trying to apply all the right tactics to get things done but sometimes it's easy to get things spread a little thin around here.

I am currently focusing on getting things for the wedding squared away without breaking my bank account entirely (it's not my wedding. I shouldn't go into debt) and get things ready and prepared for my upcoming artist residence and return to Europe.

I have mixed feelings in some ways about going back. I think that's part of being home for me though...when I'm here I keep looking for that thing whatever it is, that will make me feel like I'm part of a family here. Really and truly. Not that I don't think I have a place or that I'm not loved..I'm not emo or 14 anymore, I know I have those things...I just wish that I felt more integrated. More like I had an impact on things when I'm here I guess. Maybe it's ego. Maybe it's not. Maybe I'm imagining a false sense of importance to the family I work with overseas or maybe I approach my own family with such bias, such tinted views on reality that I can't see the proverbial forest.

Maybe it's really just them. I like that answer. Leaves me with my hand well out of the cookie jar.

There is a new book out called "Who's Your City"-I was hearing about it today on NPR. They were talking about various personality types, cities that fit those types and where the different types of people tend to gravitate. While I'm not usually a fan of compartmentalizing people (or anything really) I think there is some validity to what the book is talking about. I am going to be dealing with where to land when I come back from Estonia/Germany (going to be living in stuttgart...light years better than Wilhelmshaven).

I want to find a place where the energy fits me. I want to find my frequency. I don't necessarily have to stay there for the rest of my life or whatever but I am aiming to find a solid place to land where I feel comfortable making art, making a home (for however long), etc. I really like a lot of things about Kansas City. I care a lot about the people that I know here, the things that I've gotten to do and experience while living here, etc. I don't know if it will be where I set up in the end but I'm open to the idea. I know that for me a huge factor is going to be how creative I feel I can be here. Both in my profession and practice and in my life. I want to be challenged.

What has influenced where you live? Family? friends? career? gut instict?

I'm curious how and why some of you out there found your way to where you are now and what that means to you and what you think the future holds.

Blogging for boredom...

2008-06-10T21:44:00.001-07:00

I'm bored. I know, it's cliched.

I had a pretty good Tuesday actually. More specifically, it's been a productive week so far and we're only two days in...this is good.

I did a lot of research about some different Calls for Artists and the such and found some really cool sounding stuff. There is an art pool in San Francisco that is looking for artists to do some commissions for the San Francisco Airport Terminal 2 that they are remodeling. I think some large scale Fiber pieces would be perfect. They want 10 images of your work. I have ten images, I just have to beef up the fiber element of it since I either usually end up selling my fiber pieces or not photographing them because they are difficult to do justice. Unless you have a professional, which would be nice, but I'm all out of those at the moment. I do have a really nifty camera though so that might help (c:

I ordered some cool new dye stuff from my favoritest (hehe) website ever, Dharma trading company. Good stuff. Love their products and their website is great. Anyway, I ordered some stuff and it's being rocketed towards me as we speak (I'm sure...) and it should be here in a few days. I can then turn the upstairs laundry room into a dye kitchen for about an hour and hopefully have the basis for some cool new art stuffs. We'll see how it goes. I have been wanting to sit down and play with some stuff for a while. Mess around with some watercolors or something. I dunno. Silkpainting is a great way to get some cool results too.

I have promised myself that I am going to go back to the writing process at the end of the week. Life has a strange way of hitting you with things all at the same time and while I have no real excuse, its been its own process getting back into the country and all. It happens. I'm ok with it.

I had my kung fu class tonight which is always a really nice outlet for things. I am really aiming to get my next rank before I go back to Europe. I want to be able to move on and work on some different things and it's been a bit too long between rankings I think. I also feel much more ready, much more like a martial artist than I have in the past. One of those life lesson things I've learned or have begun to learn I believe while I was traveling around having to not only depend on me but trust me. They seem like the same thing but there are shades of meaning that seperate them.

I have let a few other things slide in the recent past...not so much a good thing, but I'm working on it. At the moment I'm waiting to get some more money in so I can sit down and repost a lot of my jewelry to my Etsy site...at the moment there's nothing up there I don't think. Which isn't good. Things like that need to stay active and that requires having objects to show. I think I am going to start doing my commission pieces via them to generate some sales and show a number under "sold" pieces. Perhaps that will help my store become more recognizable by the search engines so I get more traffic. I need to do some marketing too...but that costs money sometimes. (c: I have some nifty postcards, I just have to make sure they get up around town.

If any of you know, need or want some cool jewelry, wedding stuff, last minute gifts, give me a hollar, I can email images of my work and or direct you to a site that will show you my work upon request. :D

I'm going to be posting my reading list in a few days here I think, I've just about finished up my last book for this part of the month. May I spent scattered and not doing much of anything except trying to get back in the swing of things (only to leave again in July but whatever..)

From the deep there rumbled something...

2008-05-27T19:48:00.001-07:00

Oh wait. It's just me. Posting a blog again. finally. I don't know. I have not been in the mood for blogging or writing much of anything the past ooooo...two weeks. I have been reading a lot, thinking a lot, doing a lot of laundry and catching up with my friends.

I know there's like, two of you out here who are still interested, but I swear I haven't actually given up on writing Beyond The Seven Seas...appearances can be deceiving. It's just stewing and sitting and not getting written. I will push forward. I just haven't really had the time. And, I got my guitar back and that's a huuuge distraction.

I feel like I'm 17 again. Not in that warm-squishy-basking-in-the-glow-of-youth way. In the..."dad, can I borrow the car? I need a job I can walk to" sort of way. Gag. On a sock.

Living at home again after being out of your parents house for six years is definitely not on my list of easy things to do. Not that my dad isn't overall a decent person to share a house with. The stepmother is alright too if insanely jealous that I can come and go as I please.

Sorry toots.

Currently, I am sitting in the office enjoying M and M's, milk and contemplating the delights of taking a shower. I had my Kung Fu class tonight. It is probably one of my most favorite places to be.

I have been running around catching up with friends that I have missed. I did not realize how much I had missed them until I saw them again. I have also been living life with exactly 2.95 cents in my bank account. Hehe. There are perks to living with your dad. It's like an insurance plan or something.

I think part of why I have not been writing is because my brain is processing. Europe was a huge experience and really, this trip home is more of just a pause in the bigger picture. I leave Kansas again to go back to europe on July 14th. At the beginning of August I am traveling to Estonia. I am going to try and venture into Russia. I'm excited about that.

I think coming home was a necessary thing for more than one reason. It is allowing me to gain some perspective on what I did or did not learn during my time abroad.

I feel as though I am sitting on a fulcrum. I can either slide back into the same old shit or I can re-enter some of the familiar situations from my past with the promise to myself and to my heart that I will approach them differently. Situations are, in some ways, neutral. It's what we manage to bring to them or lay over them or charge them with that dictate how they proceed.

The pasts attached to us are seductive. They don't want to be ignored. They are always waiting somewhere just beyond what we can see, waiting to pull us back into what Was.

I don't want that to be the case here. Where I was headed wasn't all that bad...no real things to complain about but at the same time, I can head to better places I think. I am holding on to some things-

I still want to go to graduate school and get a PhD in Art History so I can teach university. That's really, really important to me. I've also decided though that I want to live a creative life. Whatever that means. I know what end I want to reach, or the general direction that the end lies in but I am no longer going to tie myself into knots worrying about how I'm going to get there.

Goal in mind. Let the games begin.

There was a lot of turmoil surrounding the time that I picked up and left to travel for six months. I broke up with a boyfriend of three years, sold my car, boxed up a lot of stuff for Goodwill, took a lot of things out to my mom's, friend's etc. to be stored and left. I remember sitting in JFK's airport heading to Turkey feeling like I had fought on the frontline of a war. It was a strange way to depart.

Coming home was much less troubled. Granted, my wonderful friend sort of left me at the airport by accident (when I say wonderful, I really do mean wonderful. She didn't mean to abandon me exactly hehe) but there were no tears, no pain associated with leaving or returning. I was excited and a bit overwhelmed as I arrived into Atlanta's airport.

I know better now on an emotional level (not just intellectual) that I need to pursue things like making music and art and my business plan and all those things that make me feel like me without apologizing for it or giving pieces of me away to those who don't want to give anything back. Or rather, who want to give the wrong sort of things back.

That's huge.

Pet Peeves: A series

2008-05-10T16:26:00.000-07:00

Why do men insist...and I mean insist...on wearing those awful penny loafer slip on shoes without socks?

Nothing says I'm a sleezeball who wears cheap cologne and chases 20 year old skirt even though I'm like 80 more than those shoes.

And then, to make matters worse, they wear bermuda shorts and a nasty polyester shirt along with it. Maybe a hat to top it all off.

I don't care what you choose to wear or not wear at home. It's your home, it's your choice. I don't even care if you decide to chase 20 year old skirt or wear Bermuda shorts and bad polyester shirts...just don't wear those retarded penny loafers in my presence.

More specifically-don't wear them and then slip your feet in and out of your shoes like you're at some beach side resort when I have to be stuck on a bus with you for 12 hours. Even if your feet don't stink, it's a principle.

I don't randomly take my shoes off in public...and if I do, I do it discreetly and with socks and don't do it in a closed space like a bus.

Thank you.

The management.

Overlooked Book Club

2008-05-05T12:32:00.000-07:00

ok, I'm still building my blog here and while it's not Friday, I'm posting anyway dammit. I don't have a lot of time but here's my book that, to my understanding, belongs on the Friday Overlooked Book Club. (c:

It's a novella called Memoirs of my Melancholy Whores and it's awesome. It came out a bit ago, won some random foreign novel awards and was never heard from again.

it is the story of a man who is turning 90 and for his birthday he decides that he wants a night of passion. He has a history of such behavior and has never been in love. The tale that follows is not only a celebration of love but a celebration of life. The book is hilarious in parts, all being written with a very happy, tongue-in-cheek realistic approach to life. The comedy is offset by moments of open and honest tenderness. Really, really honest tenderness.

The book isn't driven so much by plot as it is by character-think The Man That Wasn't There style character films but condensed to 115 pages.

It is written by a Spanish author and the translation is beautifully done. The cast list is small, the main character, his friend who runs the brothel and the girl of his desire-a 14 year old virgin who works sewing on buttons during the day and takes care of her family.

She never actually speaks. Nor is any of the story told from or considering her point of view, it's all from the main characters perspective-an aging writer for a local newspaper.

It is a book that will make you believe in the power of love. Even if only for 115 pages.

Highly Recommended.

I will try and post more details when I have more time but it's a start.

1663muM

2008-04-26T11:33:00.000-07:00

No...I am not playing with my caps lock key.

That is the number, in meters, that I hiked today in the Swiss Alps. :D Big smile and grin.

I left Wilhelmshaven, Germany yesterday and arrived in St. Gallen, Switzerland to stay with a very cool friend of a friend. He's a big mountain, outdoors guy from Canada who has had the joy of moving to Switzerland for work. He was awesome enough to take me out to the mountains today. We started our hike and actually summited the mountain. Not such a big deal for him but for me it was amazing. We hiked in the sun and the beautiful setting of the swiss Alps and it was beyond words. I will have photos soonish. Hopefully tonight. There was snow at the top and, even though my feet got wet, it was great. Absolutely great.

We ate lunch at the top and then caught the train down the mountain and came back to the house. I am thinking about taking a day trip or two while I'm in Switzerland before I head to Ireland. I am really excited about Ireland. I've been there twice and every time I go I feel like I've come home.

I went for the first time when I was 17 with my high school choir. I remember, I stepped off the plane and something slipped into my soul that felt right. I disregarded it somewhat because I figured I was starstruck by being out of the country for the first time. And then I went back with my friend Jen during an interesting period in my life and it happened again.

They say third time's a charm.

We went out last night in St. Gallen to some live music bars and hung out with some cool friends of my host and had a blast. We went to a club called The Barracco and heard an amazing, amazing group of singers and musicians. They ended with the most impassioned and beautiful rendition of Purple Rain I've ever heard. It was magic. :D

At the moment, i'm chillin' out before dinner listening to Counting Crows. Good stuff. I am going to try and get my pics uploaded and taken care of this evening.

Also-I haven't forgotten about my chapter 5. I had a bit of insight on the train over here from Germany to Switzerland so I'm going to try and condense that into some coherent thoughts and get it posted. It's going to be a busy next couple of days but I think I can manage. I just have to make the time hehe. (c:

Alrighty...more later.

I get it now

2008-04-22T12:40:00.000-07:00

The following message is a Rant from your local blogger.

I get it now why people start having children at a young age.

So when they get out of prison for strangling them to death they still have time to start a real life.

They aren't even my kids....why do I care?

Not that anyone reads this anymore but I don't care...it gives me a place to vent.

I'm not saying anything new and I know this but where does it end? I get the happygoluckyigetpaidtoNOThavechildren child psychologists who say it's normal for children to test their boundaries...to look for ways around their choices....

ok. fine. then you littlemissiwouldNEVERraisemyvoicetoasweetinnocentchild come in here and deal with these insolent little walking hellspawn with mouths and get them realize that while I am generally a nice, normal person...who goes out of her way to get them to riding lessons, and drives them to school when they miss the bus, and sits for an hour braiding their hair and plays football (soccer) outside with them even when I don't feel like it or am trying to catch one of their colds that they constantly pass around....when you "if's and's and but's" me to death about going to bed or brushing your teeth or putting on your pajamas or any other number of things that I tell you to do nine times in a row I get angry.

hm...I wonder why.

I've tried taking away privileges....I get "what's so bad about that?" What's so bad about that? Oh wait and see. I can make your life a living hell...believe me. There will be yelling. And you will sit in your room and only come out for dinner if you're lucky.

I don't want to make empty threats and I don't plan on it.

Maybe I will switch tactics. They seem to react better when I get a little...pissed...as it were...this is only good for a few times though and then they get used to it or realize that I"m not as scary as I wish I was...so maybe I'll go for the disappointment route. I won't say anything. I'll just give them that look and make them think that they've fallen out of favor with me for the rest of their natural lives.

That would be good.

Anything to get some results. I try to do things the right way. Rules. Charts. Small ways of letting them know that I'm or the parents are proud of them...little exceptions when they do well or show maturity. Sometimes it works. Sometimes they run with it. Sometimes I slam the bedroom door.

I am human. The parents went upstairs to enjoy their evening and yes, while I know it's my job, occasionally it would be nice to have a little more than verbally expressed support. It's harder for two smart and clever kids to be smart and clever and cheeky when there are two adults standing there...one of them who happens to be their mother.

They made a clean escape tonight and I got to deal with them. It's fine. I like them, I know they both work hard. But when the kids are this way, they should stand there with me and help me if nothing else. Instead, I got, now listen up or it will be as Larissa says. Be good. Goodnight.

Damn straight it will be as I say. I'm the one they have to answer to when they come home after school tomorrow. I'm the one who decides if they get computer time, game boy rights, nintendo DS or play time. I'm the one who decides if we get to have a blow-off hour watching silly YouTube videos on my laptop before going to bed.

I am sick to death of parents who don't want to take responsibility for their kids. These parents are not necessarily included in this rant but I'm on the topic so why the hell not.

If you don't want to deal with kids-and I mean deal with them on every level, in every shape and form they come in-don't have them. Use a condom. Use birthcontrol. Exercise abstinence. Do whatever it is you can dream up to do that makes it so you won't procreate. There has to be a foundation in place before you drag kids into the picture. So your five year, own my own business and make plenty of money plan fell through after you had your first kid? Tough shit. You still have a kid. And you still have to step and do their homework with them....I don't care if you're tired and hungry and it takes you three hours...do it. Get over yourself and do it. Get down on their level, work with them 'til they get it. I don't care what your favorite subject was in class or if you never needed help.

Newsflash: Just because you share the same genes doesn't mean you're the same person.

Iconic and Parenting Magazine Role Model Children are fairytales. They don't actually exist-- unless they are medicated or in a wax museum.

Dealing with your kids doesn't mean shoving them on a babysitter or in front of the TV all the time. Barney wasn't hired to become your stay at home so I can go out shopping mom.

Sorry to break it to you.

What really kills me about this is that sometimes I think I care more than the parents. I care about actually getting through to them and figuring out what makes them tick and what scares them and what hurts them and what makes them laugh so I can access them. Because if I can access them I can teach them and if I can teach them then I can help them. If I can't teach them I am nothing more than a dancing monkey sent to entertain them.

I get it now why people start having children early...so they can remember, while their kids are growing up, what it was like to be a kid themselves so that maybe, just maybe they will have a little more flexibility and willingness to learn not just about their kids but with their kids when it comes to life.

Kids may never remember all the good things we do for them but they will suffer for all the good things we don't do.

...drumroll please...

2008-04-21T10:39:00.000-07:00

Yay. (c:

I am going to Estonia in August for an artist residence. I applied. They let me in. I'm excited. :D

W00t. Now I have to figure out a way to do some fundraising for the trip. It's a 2 week thing where I get to go live on a farm in the Estonian countryside and make art. Sounds perfect to me.

I also got a few other things organized....which always makes me happy. I got my ticket bought, roundtrip from London to USA to London...I come home on May 12th and leave on July 14th. Crazy busy in between but it's all good. And, I finalized plans to go to Switzerland. This is good as well. I'm hoping for some good weather so I can go hiking and then off to Ireland. :D

I wanted to share. (c:

I've been driving myself crazy lately-everything I look at or do is somehow tinged by my novel. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. Is this normal?

'til later.

Chapter Four-Beyond The Seven Seas

2008-04-16T04:50:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER FOUR

“Figured I’d find you ‘ere.” He looked like an unshaven postal worker. His eyes were bloodshot behind his black-rimmed glasses and he was wearing the same clothes she had left him in the night before. James never wore his glasses in public.

“I’m sorry I hung up on you. I thought I told you to stay home.”

He wrapped his hand around the inside of her elbow and led them over to a table in the corner of the room.

He said, “There are worse sins though I doubt you could have picked worse timing-- and you did.”

“Yeah well, I sort of panicked. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot. And if I did, why are you here?”

“Ah, there you go assuming I follow orders”

“Well, you at least could have cleaned yourself up before going out in public. Jeez.”

“Piss off.” He grinned.

James slid the stool out for Ilse and tilted his head in the direction of the girl behind the counter.

“Two of the usual eh?” She nodded and smiled.

Ilse dropped her bag between her legs and scooted awkwardly onto the gangly red vinyl topped bar stool purposely not looking at James looking at her, awaiting some sort of explanation.

“Not before I get some food in my system.” She leaned her back against the wall and propped her feet on the bottom rung of the table.

The waitress brought two coffees and the best looking pair of warm tomato and Portobello mushroom sandwiches in all of London proper. It gave her a renewed sense of hope in life. Whoever said the Brits don’t know anything about food most certainly never ate here. The café was a hole in the walls of London that most of the Buskers in the area would frequent. The walls were vermillion red and while there were only five tables in the whole place the rhythm had adjusted so that there was usually a seat to be found. The smell of vanilla and warm spiced tea and cigarettes mixed pleasantly as it was filtered throughout the small room by the whirring ceiling fans overhead.

“Well?” His restless fingers picked at the buttons on his sleeves, the scratches in the tabletop, the fraying threads on his jeans.

She said, “Smoke a cigarette would you. You’re making me nervous.”

“I left them at home.” He raked a hand through his hair and pressed his palms flat on the table.

Ilse paused for a fraction of time between bites. He’s really worried about me. She finished her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from her fingers onto the plate.

“You want to tell me what that was all about earlier?”

“Not really.” She stirred more milk into her coffee. “Did you see the pig in Piccadilly earlier?”

“Don’t change the subject.” He needed a cigarette.

“Fuck James. I don’t know anymore. I thought I had things under control but lately, it’s been like going back in time. I can’t focus, I can’t think straight.” She took a sip. “I can’t write. Jesus, I don’t even remember the last time I had a fucking flashback and now today there’s been two! What the hell am I supposed to do with that? And then this god-damned kid shows up and half of London is standing in the streets gawking at the fucking pig in Piccadilly Circus and I don’t know-- -- it’s been a piss poor day.”

The waitress came over to clear away plates and refill James’ cup of coffee. She set half a pack of Lucky Strikes down on the table in front of him.

“Some guy left these here earlier. I was going to throw them away but you look like you could put them to better use.”

“Marry me.” She laughed as she walked away.

Ilse said, “And don’t tell me this shit is normal. I’m so sick of hearing the word “processing” I could vomit.”

“I didn’t say anything. I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. You had a shit afternoon. You got mugged for Christ’s sake. Little bugger would have been brown bread if I’d gotten a hold of him—“

He took a long pull off of his cigarette and slid another one out of the pack.

“It’s just—look—last time—when I first came to London—I couldn’t walk out my front door without expecting to see him standing there. He never quit wanting me.” Her voice sounded like a house with all the lights burned out.

“Few of us have ever quit wanting you” His tone was flippant. Now serious. “But I know—it was three years ago though. It’s behind you.” He took a pause and drew on his cigarette. “It’s behind us.”

“Don’t make jokes. And apparently it isn’t. And this kid today—that really fucked me up—why the hell wouldn’t he take anything? What if it was a way to test me? To see if he could get to me?”

She was leaning across the table, her coffee cup was tucked up underneath her like something precious. Her necklaces were hovering just inches above the edge of the cup.

“Oh Christ Ilse, I swear you were a conspiracy theorist in a past life. Don’t be ridiculous. I know you had a good scare but you should be sayin’ your hail mary’s that you didn’t lose anything except time today. And what the hell do you mean did I see the pig in Piccadilly?” James finished his cigarette and drove the butt into the bottom of the ashtray. He lit up a second one. “like smoking damn candy cigarettes” he muttered to himself. Ilse rolled her eyes and un-hunched her shoulders.

Her tone was casual again.

She said, “A little slow on the uptake this afternoon. Tsk. I don’t mean anything. There was a damn pig in the circus today. He was standing beneath that ridiculous statue of Eros and half of the damn planet was standing there staring back at him. I didn’t exactly stick around to interview him. Besides, he sort of, well, he sort of disappeared.”

“Pigs don’t disappear.” He gave her a flat look.

“Yeah, I know. But this one did. One minute I was looking at him and the next minute, he was gone.”

“I see.”

“You don’t believe me.”

She folded her arms in front of her and squared her shoulders.

“Well, I know what I saw. And what I saw was a white pig disappear into thin air. End of story.”

James took a heavy breath and took his glasses off. He rubbed his fingers along the top of his nose and traced his sinuses. He was obliterated from last night and she was being unreasonable.

There is nothing like an irrational woman with a temper to cure a hangover.

He finished the second cigarette and took his time exhaling the smoke. The blurred edges of her face were softened further by the haze that sifted through the space between them and he impulsively reached his hand across the table. He laid his fingers gently across her hand as she reached for her coffee cup. Irrational women were just his type.

“Let’s—“ She cut him off with a hardened stare.

“Don’t.” Panic built up inside of her like bubbles fighting to break across the surface of a pond. She would not be played.

James took a hold of her hand.

“I said Don’t!”

“Ilse….calm down…I was going to say let’s—“

“Let go of me! Don’t touch me! Let go!” She wrenched her hand away from him but his fingers lingered instinctively. The coffee cup flew from the table top and shattered on the floor. Milky brown liquid crawled into the cracks in the tile and headed for the door.

“Ilse…Stop this…chill out..” James let go of her hand.

“It always starts like this!” She stood up frantically and knocked the stool back against the wall she had been lounging against not thirty seconds ago. She kicked pieces of broken coffee cup out of her way and slipped on the wet tile as she reached down to pick up her bag.

People were beginning to stare.

“It’s always about this for you isn’t it!? You always have to be the logical one! Nothing could possible be as I see it for once could it! You never change. You never change!”

She was spitting the words at him as though they were on fire.

“ I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place! I don’t even know why you did! To call me a liar and make me look like a fool because I tried to tell you what went on in my day? You asked me, remember?! I didn’t want you here! You. Came. To. ME!”

James picked his glasses up and put them on.

“Ilse..” People stared. The room had gone silent. His throat was dry.

“You always have to do this! Always have to be the one who comes out right! Fuck you! Why am I never allowed to have boundaries?! I won’t be violated again! Ever!”

She twisted on the heel of her boot and stormed out of the café. The door mirrored her emotions as it slammed shut punctuating the air that had gone stale in the café. Warmth and charm left with her and James was left with a black hole sucking at his insides. A draft of chilly afternoon air joined the crowd and stirred the flyers on the bulletin board across the room. Wet footprints stared at James from the floor.

He stared back at them. The chemistry for hurt is not complicated.

The other customers went back to their conversations but not without casting glances that they thought were subtle in James’ direction. Some looked at the door. He would not chase after her. He was finished with that. She can take her boundaries and her attitude and go to hell. And for once, he refused to follow her there. Charon never did make good company. He parted the curtains ever so slightly and hated himself for doing it. Ilse turned the corner and was gone.

I will not be violated again. It bounced off the interior of her brain over and over again. Her mantra. Her promise. She was through with broken boundaries. Her boots thudded heavily on the gray sidewalk. She moved like a storm moving in across a windy Nebraska plain. Rain fell inside her bones. She was heading for Not-Here as fast as she could. She needed to be Not-Here.

Reason is a slow moving beast when it finds itself fighting a two front war and today it was particularly taxed.

Her brain slowly caught up with her passion and her footsteps began to slow. The sidewalk stopped being accused. Her breath found her lungs. The joints in her fingers unclenched and her fingernails pulled back their attack on the insides of her palms. The fury began to leak out of her as water from a garden hose in summer. Tears welled up in her eyes. Hot. Angry. Ashamed. Rain fell.

She was useless.

She stopped at the next corner and shoved her hands into her pockets. Toes turned slightly inwards, pushing against the leather heels of her boots. Her shoelace was untied and her hair was hanging in an angry mass down her back and she stood there on the street corner not knowing what to do.

I am a fool.

The blacksmiths hammer came down on her rage forcing it to bend into a controlled heat that flushed her face and burned her ears. Not-Here had come faster than she expected. She glanced across the street as she waited for the light to change. She couldn’t go back to the café. She should apologize. She couldn’t face the humiliation. She should go back to the café. She never turned back when she should. How many moments had she lost, how many spaces had been forgotten and abandoned. She didn’t know how many proverbial bridges she had left in her future but she was sure she had plenty of matches at her disposal. The means are easier to grasp than the ends.

She had lost James. Matches and fragments.

I am a product of my destroyed relationships. Her mantra. Her promise. No wonder no one wants me.

The street light changed to a walk signal and she looked up to see where she was going.

The white pig from Piccadilly Circus was staring back at her from the other side of the street looking somewhat puzzled. And lost. Definitely lost. He was sitting with his rounded back against a wall. Ilse took a double take and jumped back onto the curb. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her as if he expected some sort of answer to an unvoiced question. They stared at each other. Ha! I’m not crazy! I’ll show him! Call me a liar! Ha! Humility and rage lost their seats to triumph and she ran back towards the café.

James was paying the bill. The door swung open and Ilse swept through with an impish grin played across her lips. For the second time that day the customers gave up on their lunch to watch the live theatre performance in front of them. They got nothing for their money this time, however.

“Come with me.” She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him outside in stumbling steps.

“What the hell is going on Ilse?” He stuffed his wallet frantically back into his back pocket as he struggled to get his feet under him.

“Shut up and come with me.”

James regained his footing and tried to pull away. She was like an over excited puppy on a leash.

“You think I’m some sort of rag doll now? One minute you’re in there screaming at the top of your lungs like a damn fool. A damn fool about how I think you’re a liar and going on about your fucking boundaries and now you want me to come with you? Who the hell do you think you are?” It was his turn to speak bullets.

Ilse made no indication that she was listening. She snatched his wrist up again and started pulling.

“I need to show you something.”

They reached the street corner, James following for reasons unbeknownst to him, protesting and arguing the whole way to ears that were only half listening. She would show him that she wasn’t just making this business up and then she could go back to caring about him. She would have time for humility afterwards.

They reached the street corner and Ilse pointed victoriously across the street.

“There! There’s the damn pig! He followed me! I knew it!”

James paused mid sentence and followed the line her finger was scorching through the air. Red brick buildings and business store fronts met his gaze. The clothing stores had pulled their racks underneath awnings of various striped colors and sizes in case the skies overhead turned rainy with the cooling temperature. Flowers were hanging from hooks and piled high on tables at the flower market. People were walking. In short, there was no pig.

“There’s no pig Ilse.’ His voice was thin with poorly masked bewilderment and the remains of his anger.

“But…”

“Don’t start. Pigs don’t disappear. Nor do they follow people half around God’s forsaken London.”

Ilse stared hard at the space where moments before her sanity had stood in the flesh.

There was nothing but space and a patch of sunlight filtering through the clouds.

Searching for...

2008-04-14T06:48:00.000-07:00

an artist residence.

Anyone got any suggestions out there?

And...how do I get the comments posted to be emailed to me? I love blogger but it's not reciprocating. Okies...

Laters

Phew

2008-04-12T07:15:00.001-07:00

My coffee sat and got cold this afternoon. I was starving by the time I got home.

It was a great, great day. and I"m being entirely serious.

How can these two things be indicative of a good day? When you put them in the context of this: I was caught up in writing and editing (other work. I'm not cheating on the challenge. I have a second project going hehe) and processing and thinking about Beyond the Seven Seas. I have direction.

I blame Tim. :D Thank you. (c:

I got fourth!

2008-04-11T14:25:00.000-07:00

I just got the news on the first National juried art show I entered-it was entitled "Footlong" and took place in Portales, New Mexico-and it turns out I got fourth...almost third. hehe. I'm happy. My work is featured in the magazine they printed for the show and there's a little blurb about me and my thoughts and work and yeah...I can handle Honorable Mention for a first attempt. :D

Yay.

Now I just have to get my butt in gear and get some more notes and reference photos...oh how I love thee...done so when I hit the states at some point again or the next artist residence, or both, I can figure out what I am going to do. I have some cool ideas but we'll see what pans out to be any good.

It is amazing to me how creating visual art and written work are so tightly linked. I know, I know, before I get blasted for making it sound like I don't consider writing art, I do. Of course I do. But they are different mediums and yet so completely alike. Reference photos are the notes, spots of color, interesting shadows, shapes, textures are the characters that we exploit, drag out of their shells, push until they no longer resemble what we thought they were about. Simplify and tweak until they start to talk about something that really matters to us....etc. etc. I could digress.

It's all a matter of perspective...which sounds like the perfect intro into a blog that I've been meaning to get down since I read Lisa's blog a bit ago about her perspective on Russia, Russians, the Cold War and the such.

So-here's my perspective on this and what it feels like for me to be a 20 something caught in this centuries angsty gray area.

I have been traveling since October 30th, 2007. I packed my bags, sold my car, dumped my things at friend's houses, my dad's, drove my car to Colorado for a final time to leave things with my mom....came back to a townhouse that I really liked, a relationship, my favorite jazz club, my friends, my martial arts class that I am addicted to...and then I got on a plane and flew to Adana, Turkey. I started in Turkey because I wanted to spend some time living with my dad's side of the family. I also wanted to improve my Turkish-which has a long ways to go-I got what I wanted. I had a great two months. I had some time to gain some interesting perspective.

I am an animated talker. I am a big talker. I have lots of opinions on everything that occasionally should just be kept to myself...knowing this, I threw myself into a culture and situation where I wouldn't be able to say much of anything. I got a taste of what it's like to learn to listen. I got a taste of what it's like to really have to actually THINK before I say something. Not that I really changed all that much truth be told...but it did change my perspective on things and myself how I perceive things and how we communicate. I also got a hard dose of perspective on American culture.

I am not, in general, an advocate of the way we handle most things in America. But, I can now say that after being in other countries, experiencing their medical systems, their economical systems, getting to know business owners and families and artists, I get what the draw to America is all about. I also feel a sense of gratitude I didn't have before for where I was born. Not that I'm going to go patriotic, agree with the ridiculous mess we've created in Iraq, vote Republican and march around singing the praises of my country. I still think there's a load of bullshit. I just have a better appreciation for what else is there.

Ok, this being said...my travels took me from Turkey to Budapest to Germany. I have had the wonderful experience living with a German family for some time. The man of family is a very intelligent former home designer and construction company owner who happens to know a lot...and I mean a LOT about history. I love history. This leads to some great conversations. He gives me a hard time because I really make him work through any language barrier that may exist because I ask hard questions.

For example...I asked him why he thought, as my link to Germany, Germany's response to something like 9/11 would have been, why it happened and what he thinks America should have done about it.

There was a pause. We got up and started more hot water for coffee. I put my hair in a pony tail and readjusted myself in my chair and we both settled in for a long talk. Luckily for me, he seems to enjoy talking and arguing about this stuff and I love to learn about it so...yeah....

Lisa's post-to jump back to the wavering thread that is tenuously this post together-was discussing the Gulf War a bit, the Berlin wall...things that happened when I was at the youngest 7 and the oldest...well...present day- if you consider the Iraq War is just a big, nasty extension of the Gulf War (in some perspectives at least)...

This is a really weird realization for me. I remember hearing about the Berlin wall in November of 1989. I remember hearing about Sadaam Hussein Thwackers from Ed Sardella on 9 news in Colorado during the Gulf War. Names like Schwarzkopf, Powell, etc. all ring bells in my head. I can tell you what they did...I remember the colors of the camouflage jackets I would see on TV as a kid when they would interview soldiers.

Through all of this, however, I don't ever remember feeling anything. Not that I was or am emotionally insensitive, I just didn't care at the time. I was a kid. I had no real grasp on what the impact or the history was behind what was going on in front of me. I didn't really get a sense for that until recently, to be honest. Part of it is because America has a really bad habit of not teaching its kids about what it's done wrong in the past. I've never once been offered a class that discusses the finer points of the Gulf War and the socio, economic and cultural impact it had or would lead to in regards to America and the Muslim and Middle Eastern faith.

I'd heard the name Ayatollah Comini...spelling...but I couldn't have told you who he was until last week when my resident Germany born, history buff friend sat down and explained all of it to me. Who he was, what he had to do with Sadaam Hussein, etc. etc.

Please, Mr. Germany-teach me about the bits of my countries history that are less palatable. And it wasn't America bashing-what he told me about had very little emotional overtone. He is a rather stoic and pragmatic/practical person...and he wasn't trying to prove anything. He was trying to factually answer my questions. He did so quite well I think.

It's not like I couldn't have Wikipedia'd...yes I made that a verb...some of this stuff prior to arriving in Germany or gone to the library and read books about it...it's just that while there is always plenty of media there is very little content and, by fault of my own lack of mental prowess occasionally, things get muddled unless I have someone there to whom I can ask questions.

I asked a lot of questions to Alex. He gave me a lot of answers. I gained a new perspective on some of the things that I already knew about America's past by hearing from the mouth and mind of someone who didn't grow up engorged and swollen on my media and my concepts of reality and I also gained a new perspective on my childhood. Of my place in my country's young history.

In today's world people everywhere are being told and taught and coerced into disliking anyone who covers their head, looks like, talks like or blinks like they might be part of the Muslim faith. This is exactly like, from what I could glean out of Lisa's post, what happened between America and Russia during the Cold War and all that yucky stuff. People were told to hate an entire race and culture of people because of the actions of a few. And...here's the real bitch about all of this....when I sat down with Alex and had him tell me the story and the backstory of the times leading up to the Gulf War I realized that we really are on a loop. History repeats itself. It's a cliche but I've never heard one truer. It is disgusting how many times people can manage to reinvent the wheels of hate and prejudice and fear.

This is not a plea for everyone to be nicer to each other. This is also not a statement on how unfair or unjust the world behaves.

It is just an observation about the realization that we are on a perpetual hamster wheel. That we will continue to do the same things over and over again. If it isn't Russia it's Persia. If it's not there, then who knows, maybe it'll be China or India only the tables will be turned and my culture may get a sense of what it has done.

America is the perfect example of Newton's Law of Inertia. I am waiting to see what will be the first thing to step in and disrupt our inertia. People can argue that 9/11 was our stop. It was a speedbump. And I'm not suggesting that we have some Big Bad Wolf waiting for us around the corner and that we should all run for cover or start saying our Hail Mary's to avoid the apocalyptic fall of the American Empire...I'm just saying that a force bigger than 9/11 is going to have to happen eventually to slow America down. This could be a positive force as easily as it could be a negative force. We'll see which cards get played first.

All of this knowledge, insight, research, realization and processing makes for a heavy handbag to carry around on a daily basis. That's the best way I can think to express what it's like to be in this middle age of things where some of the really big stuff i.e. WWI, WWII and all those other wars that don't need their full titles to be recognized is well out of my range of existence but where some of the other big stuff, or stuff that is still having it's growth spurt did happen in my lifetime. And they will all have lasting impressions on the planet. And, I'm part of an age that has easy access to knowledge, resources, data...the Internet may be a vast ocean only about an inch deep but it is a dense inch. While it's impossible for most of Americans to experience the same degree of separation that previous generations had from their "enemy" or different cultures, or whatever in this day and age it is increasingly easy for us to pull the wool over our heads. Surround ourselves with things that assuage our fear. Remind ourselves that none of what is currently going on over there has anything to do with our Raison D'etra and simply move on.

Along with this handbag comes the responsibility or sense of responsibility to do something. Anything to improve or contribute in a well-intended manner to the situations at hand. Some choose to enlist in the military. Some join Green Peace. Some think out loud on Blogger. Some go and blow up buildings or people or cars or convoys because they think that it will actually accomplish something. Misguided and motivated have become the mantras and warning signs for my culture and the unfolding time line.

I want to find my response. My reaction to all of this. I want to stop feeling guilty when I tell people I am from America because of the looks I get from others. It's not hate or fear or anger. It's the look you give a small baby when they've gone and smeared the third jar of bright orange baby food all over themselves and the wall and the dog. And then in the process of cleaning up the mess they go and smash the crystal vase over their brother's head and then sit crying in the middle of the broken glass because they know they've done something wrong.

Not that there isn't something to be said for having a rough childhood....which is how I feel about the decision making that has gone on in my governmental system recently in America. We are young in comparison to the rest of the world. There are lots of things we haven't learned and we are acting the part of the cocky teenager by thinking that we know everything. Then again, at this point, we have wedged ourselves between more rocks and hard places than I can think of lame metaphors to describe. The resounding question in my head as I listen to the news and read the papers-foreign and American alike-is "What are we supposed to do now?" Not cynically or sarcastically...but a calm desperation that makes my insides hurt when I think about the state that things are in or are working towards.

America is not very good at admitting or teaching it's people about what it doesn't know how to do. It can't admit that there are problems to begin with in a lot of ways I don't think.

That makes me angry. Ignorance is not an excuse, no matter how many different costumes you make it try on.

There are more things I could say about this...things that I would like to say but am currently not in the right mind-set to phrase coherently.

I am going to bed. To anyone I have offended or upset, please-leave me a mature comment expressing yourself. I care what your thoughts are though I can't promise I will make any amendments to the post.

Communication is all we have left. Use it.

Chapter Three-Beyond The Seven Seas

2008-04-09T15:38:00.001-07:00

Only because I promised. Excuse the mess while we are renovating. Thank you. The management.

CHAPTER THREE

To speak of what lies beyond the seven seas is to speak about losing. It is a space reserved for those who have been removed. It is a womb for all that is yet to be born. It is the land of Myth. Within its boundaries live the shadows of Story, of Present, of Then. It is within these remnants of space that our lives as we know them are defined and redefined. Every day we are invented anew between the lines and faced with the prospect of the fleeting devil Tomorrow. To speak of the land beyond the seven seas is to speak about loss. There are tenants who continue to rent their time in Myth. Mischief and Grief and Memory and Eros and the fateful pig that approached Piccadilly Circus in an attempt to expand the borders. In an attempt to regain. To speak of the land beyond the seven seas is to speak about a culture dying. We are dying. It is the mantra that seeps into the bones of this intangible land, it is the borders in which they live, the terms in which they approach life. It is within these terms that we shall speak of what lies beyond the seven seas for this is the only voice that has not been over sung.

4:30pm

The pig darted through the streets and the sewers of London. It was heading West. There was such amusement in watching people, in escaping. He had quite enjoyed his morning. He angled to the right and reduced his size again so he could slip through the grates sealing the underground waterways of London. He hated being underground. It was much too damp. Not that he wasn’t used to a bit of dampness. Ireland is no desert. At least in Ireland one can be wet and not smell like a soaked dog he thought to himself. Ah well, he didn’t have to smell himself. The sewers were the best means of travel he could think of. Less chance of being stepped on or causing further commotion. Being small compromises your concept of safety. He skidded around a corner and banged into the wall. Sludge. It was always slippery. But yes, the sewers were the best choice he’d had. He’d been given orders. He remembered what happened the last time he had disobeyed orders . He would try playing it the straight way for once. Was he not an icon of legend and daring and charm? Yes, he could play by the rules just this once. For the sake of something greater than himself. Or something.

He wrinkled his already wrinkled nose. He was filthy. He imagined that even the sewer rats were looking at him in disgust. Ha! To think of that! Oh the ends that he would go to for some things. He would have a much more pleasant time regaling the group of his derring-do after a proper bath and a return to his normal state. Being small compromises your sense of self.

He took the third right and slid through another set of grates. He could see the wicked shadows being cast back and forth as the good albeit confused people of London walked around above him. What little they knew. Such was the plight of most humans, however. He had learned that from the eons spent doing things the hard way. Their heavy footsteps above him became his soundtrack as he raced along the curved walls of the true London underground. The chatter of voices were muffled through the depths and the sun shone meekly into the grime.

The girl had been a curiosity to him. She had looked at him, directly at him. He could see her mind working. That was a particular gift. She was a different breed. She had looked at him not with fear, or awe or panic or any of those other unsightly mental characteristics but with curiosity. Pure curiosity like a child in a house of mirrors. She was pretty too. That was always a nice surprise. He hated ugly humans. Then again, he knew her father so he supposed he should not have been all that surprised.

He was cold. “You know, you’ve not been very good company lately.” He said as he continued through the damp muck. The sun went behind a cloud and the sewer went black. “That’s what I’m talking about!” She’s certainly in a mood today he thought sourly as he charged through the blackness. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying...” He let out a yelp as he crashed against a low hanging grate. Just ahead of him rays began poking their long fingers into the muck. She always was rather hot under the collar but lately she had been in a foul mood. Not very good company at all. He was glad, for a change, that he had not been put in her charge for this task.

To think! A Muse! Missing! This most important task and they had chosen him. It had been most natural in his mind but the others had not been so enthusiastic. Memories amongst some have a substantial shelf life and he had not exactly been the most subtle in his deception. But what was life without a little rule bending. So what. He reflexively twitched his shoulder muscles and would have shrugged if he had been physically substantial enough to do so.

He leapt over a deep pool of water and scooted along closer to the edge. He had never been much of a swimmer and the last thing he needed was to be delayed. But yes, this most desperate of missions and they had chosen him. To be sent after the care and charge of one of the muses, that was not something a humble Pig like him encountered every day. And the world hadn’t even batted an eye. He had no idea how the girl played into everything but considering her history he could only imagine.

He continued to run. He was a pig of his word after all. At least for today. He could not imagine where she would have gone. The muse, not the girl. Though that had been a rather big shock as well. Not a single person had chased after him! And after her athletics chasing that pathetic distraction he would have thought the least she could do was give a half hearted attempt.

For all her clarity she obviously did not know who she was dealing with. Poor thing, she hadn’t grown up with her father around to educate her properly. He didn’t really have time to waste thinking about that though, she was not his main concern. This missing muse was. “Do you have any ideas where she could have gone to?” he asked the sun. The sewer rats looked at him and the sun said nothing. She was so irrational sometimes.

“You know, it’s not like I asked for this job. I had been minding my own business, wallowing around, doing nothing more than fulfilling my duties not bothering anyone when Boreas shows up on my front door. Figuratively speaking at least. I don’t really have a front door seeing as I live in a field.” He chuckled at his own wit. The sun said nothing. “Not that you don’t already know that, dearest. What with your lofty position and all. Really does give you an advantage to things. Regardless, here comes Boreas one day and says that he needs me and I am to meet him at once and await my instructions. Imagine how I felt! Being bossed around by such a transparent fool! Well! I dare say I was a bit taken aback. But I showed up. My curiosity has always been my downfall. So yes, are you listening?” Nothing. “Good. So yes, here comes Boreas and I agree, naturally, to help. I mean, I’m a good natured sort and when a fellow needs help, what can I do but bow down and offer my services?” He ran through a patch of gray sunlight and felt a distinctive burning on his muck covered tail.

“Ah, so you are paying attention! I knew it! So, where was I? Ah yes, Boreas. So I meet with him and he says that Erato has gone and gotten herself missing. How exactly this is possible I don’t know so don’t ask me. That’s up to Apollo. Such a responsible bloke. Don’t know what could have gone wrong. Perhaps she finally got the better of him. He always did have a thing for her. Course, not a single one of us could get near her without feeling something. Even me-and you know how I don’t usually go for the two legged type. Poor thing, out there all alone. Though I can imagine she knows how to handle herself. The question is, where would she have gone? She had everything she needed right where she was. Doesn’t make a bit of sense to me, but then again, I’m not one to meddle in affairs of Them.”

Tonight.

“Black coffee, please.” The table creaked as she leaned forward on her elbows. Her brown tunic sleeves were pushed up past her elbows and the yellow light hanging above the table gave her a jaundiced pallor.

“Well, where is the little fucker.” She left the question mark on the street corner.

“That’s assuming a lot on his part.” She squinted her already narrow almond shaped eyes at him over the rim of her mug and bit her bottom lip. “I mean, he’s not the most trustworthy. I still don’t know what you were thinking”.

“What I was thinking is nothing that you, in fact, have to think about at all. You seem to have enough troubles of your own.”

“Clever. Really.” She changed her mind and set the cup down. She fingered the rim and swirled the battery acid around. The silence was getting them nowhere.

“Uhm, can I say something?” Four eyes swiveled in their sockets.

“You just did.”

Green eyes wilted in frustration and the third member of their party straightened a bit in her sagging seat.

“Look, well, it’s just that she’s still out there and we don’t know anything and I don’t want to cause more problems but shouldn’t we be…well…doing something?”

“Ah, enter our sweet voiced tagalong and her astounding ability to state the obvious. Save your vocal chords sweetheart. Right now, we wait.”

Last week.

She came in a set the bags of groceries down on the counter. She hated always having last minute shopping but there are some habits that never die. The grocery store had been full with others suffering a similar fate and she had been caught up in the mess that happens when lots of people all try and do the same thing at the same time.

Her graying hair was in her eyes and her contacts were beginning to burn. She had spent too many hours pouring over student papers last night and the subtle reminders that all-nighters were for twenty-somethings and college students were mixing with the not so subtle reminders that she was definitely not twenty anything anymore.

But, work was work and the students were feeling particularly effusive if not intelligent this year. She had a few bright ones but nothing like some from her past. She was tired of reading how “one must always remember…” and “throughout the ages…” “one” doesn’t have to do anything if “one” doesn’t feel like doing it. What ever happened to a little pizzazz? And editing. And spellcheck. Forget Aude sapere-she would settle for dare to proofread-before-submitting though she doubted there was a latin equivalent for common sense.

She sighed and sorted through her dilapidated bags. Her cat jumped on the counter to help and was shooed away with the butt end of the French loaf she brandished. The sun came to investigate through her yellow curtains and she smiled. Mid-afternoon sunshine may not be quite as good as moonshine but it is still intoxicating in its own right. The cat gave up on his lazy attempts at investigation and curled up in the corner.

The dinner guests would be over shortly, she had a lot of work left to do. She took the fish out of the bag, discarded the newspaper and took it to the sink. What with the student papers behind her she was beginning to look forward to this evening. She had her own research of course that always seemed to be leagues behind where it should be for the number of hours she gave in a week but her sanity had begun to whine about equal employment opportunities. There was nothing wrong with taking a night off now and again she reminded herself. The stress of having loose ends sat in the base of her brain but she pushed it aside. Not tonight.

The water was just beginning to boil when her cell phone rang. She wiped her hands half-heartedly on a tee towel and routed her phone out of her purse. “Unknown name, unknown caller” flashed across the screen as she flipped it open with her chin and jammed it between her ear and shoulder. She turned the stove down to medium.

The cat jumped as the phone hit the floor. She pivoted sharply on her heel with a speed belying one of her age and grabbed her jacket. She was out the door and gone within moments. Her brain was full of white noise as she jumped in her car and slammed it into gear. Around London eight phones simultaneously rang and their answerers left in a state of shock. Eight women jumped into eight of their respective cars and raced away.

She was missing.

Whose afraid of

2008-04-09T03:51:00.000-07:00

Their own shadow? That'd be me.

I live in a state of gray. Which I've said before. But it makes it hard to do what I know I can/want/really wish I was clever enough to do...which is write a decent anything. Hehe. I'm kevetching (is there a correct spelling for that, cause I don't know it if there is).

To be honest, I spend more time thinking about my story than writing it. I do this with most things. I need to be a better War General and just throw my troops into the attack head on. Problem is, I sit down and it's like I turn into a Arty from Geek Love. No arms, no fingers to speak of, horribly critical attitude. Though he was much better written than I am. At least he had a sense of purpose.

And I keep getting caught up in research, which is something I really, really like to do. More so than any sane human I would venture. And I'm addicted to links. If I can click it and have it take me somewhere more interesting, I'm on it.

Tim, from the DC, likened writing this stuff to giving birth to glass. I agree. I might as well pull out my synapses one by one, bang them together, call in the dendrites and throw them all in the blender and hit go. Maybe I'd come up with something.

Alrighty...in typical fashion I'm writing about not being able to write. I am such a verbal thinker. I don't even like therapists and I'm always finding myself needing to just "talk it out". Which sucks because no one cares about this as much as I do. This is a given and something that I will have to get used to. Knight in shining armor aside, I don't think I'd want someone to be as obsessive about my stuff as I am. I would run away from them. Hm..

What is that about the things we don't like in ourselves are the things we criticize in others?

Right.

So-I'm going to go resign myself to working on the family portrait sketch that I am doing at the moment for my side project, finish taking my notes and write down anything that comes to me. I have some mediocre dialogue at the moment, though I think everyone sounds the same. I bought a new book, albeit it was Paulo Cohelo, so I'm not going to learn anything about writing diverse characters (All of his books have the exact same person as their protagonist I think. He's a bit too in love with love.) but it was the only book in English that wasn't some stupid romance novel or trash thriller.

And, I promise, by the time all the rest of the world is awake, I'll have something posted for chapter three. I even promise to keep my self loathing and internal criticisms to myself. (c:

Happy writing to all of you with fingers.

Chapter Three

2008-04-08T15:54:00.000-07:00

Will be here tomorrow I think. I tried....really tried for tonight. and it sucks. It's not finished and it's lacking a certain flair that comes when I am not trying to write things at 1 in the morning after getting up at 6am with kids and all those other lovely excuses that i have for not having anything. I have something...it's just...I dunno.

So yeah...it will be here tomorrow. I am close to at least having a completed thought on paper-regardless of whether or not it's relevant is another issue all together.

So-until tomorrow.

Posting an article I like (c:

2008-04-03T13:52:00.001-07:00

On the eco-friendly soapbox this evening..this article. Thanks. (c: Just to be clear, this article is not written by me...just making sure I give this guy some credit here hehe. :D

It was bound to happen. Sooner or later, I was due to go Andy Rooney on you poor readers and vent about the tech habits that drive me crazy. My goal here is not just to wax cantankerous, but to tell you straight out: Don't do any of these things.

Buzz up!on Yahoo!

Print everything under the sun. You want to print out a recipe or article and automatically hit the Print button. Then you go to the printer and discover that you needed only 1 page of the 4 that printed. Restrain yourself from automatically printing stuff from the Web. What typically happens is that you print it out and put it in a folder to languish until you do your spring file cleaning and just throw it out anyway. Most of the time you didn't need a printed copy to begin with. And if you do need to print, preview it first and print only the pages you need.

Throw out your iPod or cell phone the minute a new one comes out. People are most wasteful with these two categories of device. Unless your phone or MP3 player is completely broken, don't throw it out. You will not be shunned by society if your device is a generation or two behind. If your identity is that tied to your gadgets, you need to go sit down on a park bench and take serious inventory of yourself.

For more eco-friendly technology coverage, go to PCMag.com's Green Tech page!

Buy your kids cheap electronic crap. Think twice before getting your kids everything that blips, beeps, zips around the living room via remote control, or plays games. Imagine yourself taking it home from the store, unpackaging it, putting it on the floor, and stomping it to pieces--because that's how it will end up very soon. You are teaching your small kids to be ignorant overconsumers who pay no attention to quality. Buy cheap and buy often is the lesson you are imparting. Not to mention the plastic, packaging, and batteries that end up in landfill.

Leave your computer on day and night. I've heard the arguments. People hate the lag time every morning waiting for their PCs to start up. Don't just sit there and watch the Windows status bar go back and forth, go make some coffee or do some sit-ups or something. Yes, time is precious. But how much TV do you watch per day? If you're the average American, about 4 hours. Are you really telling me you can't shave 2 minutes off your TV watching or pointless Web surfing regimen to save a few kilowatt hours?

Throw away or recycle perfectly usable devices. Recycling is good, but if the device still works, donate it. Do you throw away good food? Furniture in good condition? There may not be starving kids in China that will die if you don't eat your peas, but there are plenty of kids in underfunded schools who could use your Pentium II system, and women in domestic abuse shelters who depend on donated cell phones.

Okay, sermon over. I'm done channeling Andy Rooney. Hey, how did my eyebrows get so bushy?

...What the hell

2008-04-02T15:34:00.000-07:00

First off. Chapter three is coming. It will be here by next week. I promise. No more running away to play elsewhere.

That aside,

I am reading the news at the moment and I keep noticing that "they" (the mighty powers that be...and or the Associated Press) keep posting news articles with headlines like "Global Warming blamed for..." blah blah blah.

I am a firm believer and advocate in Global Warming. A tree hugger through and through.

But please...oh please...do *not* make it sound like Global Warming is a person being convicted of a crime.

First Name: Global
Last Name: Warming
Crime: Breaking the Ice Shelf

Seriously. Global warming is a direct result of carelessness. It is not something that can shoulder responsibility. We, however, can (I know...who'd've thunk it!). So perhaps a more accurate headline would read:

Humans Excessive Use of Energy Blamed for Broken Ice Shelf....

I'm not saying that every human in the world is to blame or that we all need to live in the dark and revert back to the times of prehistory but we really need to start putting the responsibility where it belongs...not handing it off in typical fashion to a concept or cause.

All hail the wisdom of George Carlin all that time ago for kevetching about a War on Drugs. This is our war on a concept.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

The Irony of Being Me

2008-03-31T13:40:00.000-07:00

Why is it that when writing a story involving the Muses I can't seem to think of anything creative? Don't they hear me out there...wherever they are? C'mon guys...coffee break is over.

Anyway-been pounding keys-a vastly different task than actually writing-and have now decided to rant about it for at least a few sentences. Write something that is coherent instead of babble. Inane at that.

So yes-I'm back in Germany as stated, which is great-it gives me time to work on my artwork, draw aimlessly for a few hours if I want (the latest trend seems to be having the kids either hand me Pokemon cards to draw or setting up still life images with their stuffed animals) and whatnot. Problem is, it also gives me time to think about all the other things that I want to be doing and to worry about getting things "done". That seems to be a constant theme in my life. Looking towards the end of something and occasionally paying attention along the way.

Another consistent yet completely unhelpful trait: I'm great at the theory behind how things are done..it's the doing part that I suck at. I can bullshit my way through just about anything I dare say but ask me to actually do something productive with my knowledge or....gasp....follow my own advice and well...the flash paper and pretty lights go up in smoke and you're left with...well...me...standing there gape mouthed doing nothing. As per usual. :D

Hooray for artistic angst. Or something. I'm not sure what. I did have a really great time, as mentioned, in Barcelona enjoying all the beautiful artwork and architecture of the ever-playful Gaudi. A lot of it got me thinking too...which is a blessing and curse...it got me started on an idea for a gallery show when I get back to the states and or find a gallery willing to show my work. That could be anywhere.

So yeah-when I was in Budapest I was asked what I liked about art. Sort of a vague question but important. I said surprises and color and texture and stuff like that. I was reminded of this as I was walking around Barcelona taking photos of random things. I did my touristic duties and took photos of all the cool monuments and the beach and all that great stuff but I also found myself taking photos of things that were out of place, or flashes of color or weird cracks on the steps. I've always done this, but I think now I am getting a handle on why....because I like surprises. Maybe that's why I'm a big fan of Pantsing...even if it does threaten to drown me in uncertainty.

But yes...I am wandering. My gallery show idea/potential body of work concept is to take these photographs and find maybe...6 good ones. Ones that really depict and discuss a specific artistic element. That communicate. And then recreate them using the different techniques that I know, mainly Fiber and Painting. So each photo would have two or three interpretations. I think this would not only be an interesting project because it would give me some insight into how I think and visually process things (and who doesn't love mental clarity) but, it would be an interesting way to document and exhibit the elements of travel and story and the such that I seem to be a complete sucker for.

Anyway...really no other point to this blog than to keep my fingers moving and hopefully calm some of the storm raging in my brain as I fight myself for the right answer to things. I'm going to go attempt to do something productive. Or sleep. That could be a good thing too. Kids will be here at 7am as always (assuming Johannes doesn't decide to play Alarm Clock again) and will be demanding irrational things like breakfast and school snacks.

Goodnight. And to the muses: Your unemployment checks are in the mail.

Reality Strikes Back

2008-03-29T14:51:00.001-07:00

So yes...enough of sun and play time. I am now back in Germany for a bit less sun, more "play" time but with the added kick of being a nanny. :D

The kids are making up for lost time I think.

So yeah-this is the official restart of me actually posting things for Beyond The Seven Seas. Just in case any of you are still listening out there in TV Land. (c:

More to come after these messages....

BCN should stand for BecauseChaosNeverends

2008-03-23T15:55:00.000-07:00

Ok...so I'm not sure I can actually put Neverends as one word but I did...so yeah. Whatever. :D

It's been a crazy week. BCN is Barcelona's nickname. I am in love with the city. I am coming to this web blog update thing a bit late...I've already been to Rome. Did some great research for the story which I promise has not been forgotten...just put on pause because well, internet is a commodity and I need more time than I have to get things typed and posted. And I'm a big lazy butthead. But whatever.

Rome was amazing. I trekked all over the city and had a great time spending time outside of Rome in a town called Priverno. I couchsurfed with a kid who was a fantastic host and had a really wonderful time hanging out with his friends. We went to some awesome clubs down by the ocean 'til dawn, drove around Terrecine and played pool, listened to music and overall had a really great time.

I went salsa dancing in Rome! :does the happy dance: That was awesome. I met some great people in the city and ended up having some really fun times dancing, going to dinner and checkin' out all of the amazing artwork. I got to see the Sistine Chapel of course, which is so much more than anyone ever mentions....the suspense is amazing. They route you through the whole place, you see all of this amazing stuff and then the end all Finale is the Chapel that Michaelangelo did. I stayed in there for an hour just looking...and looking...and looking...it was surreal.

I managed to find an art store! that was a really great day actually. I had spent the day hanging out in Priverno basically sleeping and enjoying the mountain air after a solid day of dancing and partying and then went into the city and went on the hunt for an art supply store and went to the Museo Borghese, which is really.....really outstanding. I walked around the gardens, enjoyed the most delicate of breezes..it was great. That was the night I went salsa dancing too I think. so yeah...

That was entertaining in and of itself...let's just say I salsa'd in hiking shoes. "nuff said.

So after Rome-there is more to tell but I will have to leave it there for now..not to mention all the stuff I haven't told about Florence!-I headed to Barcelona.

Let the insanity begin. I started off just fine, had a wonderful couchsurfing host, walked around the city and went to the Picasso Muesum. Really fantastic, it showcased his first work, like the work that he did while he was a student in art school and stuff so that was really amazing for me to see...he was a genius. Classically trained, and it gave such a level of context and structure to his later work that I can really begin to appreciate what lies beneath the initial surface. I like abstraction and cubism, but I think it becomes a lot more valuable when you have the social and mental infrastructure to support it exposed.

Anyway-after the Picasso Museum I went and got some lunch and explored more of the city and then chilled out with my couchsurfers. The next day we went shoe hunting for him and I went to a yoga class. Best feeling ever. It was my recharge for the rest of the trip I think. I am going to to try and go again on Tuesday. :D We'll see...it was all in Spanish but I am basically familiar with the moves...still a really funny and good experience though. The teacher speaks good english so she was able to correct me on a few moves. Good times.

I went and explored Montjuic-which is a really great place. I spent hours and hours at the MNAC which was the best exhibition I have been to in a loooong time. I also went to the Joan Miro Foundation which was a cool experience. his work is a little too abstract for me but I love the use of his colors and shape. The MNAC had such a plethora of genius art work done by Catalan artists that I had, sadly, never heard of until that day....I gorged myself on all of it and then went and found dinner. Which was really nice. I was starving. I guess art makes me hungry? I dunno what that was all about.

So-to cut to the quick here...the insanity began more on Friday and Saturday night. I didn't find a host so I booked at this great hostel. Met some cool people about two minutes after I walked in the door. We all went to dinner and proceeded to hang out until 4 in the morning after buying beer on the streets and partying at some random park until we got cold. It was awesome.

Rolled in to the hostel, got up for breakfast...that was painful hehe...and spent the next day walking around some more. Had to find a new hostel because I had a host that bailed on me...and that was awful. Stayed in a total shithole...pardon the language. So yeah...was unhappy about that. Stupid Easter weekend (happy easter Barcelona! mrgh.)....the next night I went back to the hostel I had stayed at originally and paid to use their emergency cot...which basically translated to me sleeping in their lounge downstairs on a cot with five other people (each with their own respective cots) but yeah...it was insane. I was stressed and tired and yeah...the joys and toils of traveling.

So...the night I stayed at the totally assy hostel I went out with some guys from New Zealand...one of them got us kicked out of the bar because he was retardedly drunk (yup...making up another word)...and finally got back to the hostel around 4 in the morning. Got up, trekked over to the old hostel, got the emergency bed...they made me a coffee and I walked around the city some more. And went out again that night, against my better judgment. Had a good time...but yeah. Spent the next day just chillin' at the hostel...I surfed the web, wrote in my journal, walked down to the city beach...bought a cute if cheesy shot glass....

I will have to put some updates about Poble Espanyol....Great little artist village in Barcelona. Expensive to get in and lots of stuff is overpriced but it's still really cool. I got my mom some stuff. It was great. :D

And then, after chilling at the hostel all day, stayed up with the AWESOME group of people I met (we had members from France, French Canada, America, Germany, Brazil...) It was fantastic! We played silly drinking games...pausing to explain everything in several languages, listened to the great music that they were playing and had a really fantastic evening. Went to sleep at two...still in the lounge because everywhere is still booked...and then decided, on a whim today, to come with some of the kids that I met to their flat in Valencia. I am going to go to the beach, check out the museums and hang out with them for a couple days and then it's back to Barcelona to see what other sorts of trouble I can get myself into.

I go back to Germany on the 28th....yay for children....oh boy. But I have some fun times planned ahead of me and I am looking forward to all the debauchery I can find. hehe.

Alrighty, there will be more later but ya know...it's not like I'm writing a book or anything here.

Ahem.

Laters!

Ciao

2008-03-09T11:34:00.001-07:00

So its not very warm here at the moment...but I think that Rome will be better. I'm having a blast in Florence so far though. I've been walking my tail off everywhere in the city that I can find to go. I went to see the David, which was the most amazing thing. I can't begin to describe it in words. He was breathing. It was beautiful. Currently hanging out at the hostel, no chapter three yet, mainly because I couldn't bring my laptop with me and this is the most time I've had to sit at a computer since I got here. I am writing it via notebook and pen however-it exists, just not digitally yet hehe.

Waiting at the moment to get some dinner. Staying at a bed and breakfast that is pretty cool. Florence is a great city, its a bit slow at night but overall I really like it. I have been taking some cool photos, so hopefully I'll get the chance to get them uploaded shortly. We'll see about that.

I checked out The Uffizi Gallery the day before yesterday. That was amazing. Everything in Florence has been amazing so far. I also sinned and bought myself a leather jacket. I got a good deal on it though (no, really-guy wanted 260, I paid 75) and I wore it around for the first time today. It was cool. (c:

I am currently searching for some accomodation in Rome. I have a few potentials but the ones I thought I could count on ended up not working on so well. No problem I guess.

I could kick myself for not bringing my sketchbook. I don't know where my head has been the past couple days. I blame...I dunno what. No good reason really.

So Florence has the most amazing bridges...they aren't big, they aren't extra long, they are just beautiful. And there are a lot of them. Four maybe five? Great. One, Ponte Vecchio is insane-they turned it into a strip of shops basically so there's always tourists but it's a neat experience even if it is crowded. I took some cool pics from the bridge...and got some really good ones when I went to the Boboli gardens which are part of the Palazzo Pitti which belonged to Cosimo De Medici II. :D I also checked out his apartments and all the corresponding artwork. Holy crap. Sensory overload but amazing nonetheless.

I have been getting some good ideas for "Beyond the Seven Seas" as well....lots of mythology that played into the Italian history existance, it turns out. Sort of the whole Mediterranean thing I think.

Uhm....what else....not a whole lot really, just been exploring and exploring and exploring. I saw some original Michaelangelo's which floored me. I realized at one point though that I needed to take a break and eat something, even if it was too much money, because I wasn't fully enjoying things. I have been doing pretty good money wise though. It was crazy when I first got into town-flew in to Pisa-crazy turbulance-and met some nice German guys on the train between Pisa and Florence, hung out with them-turns out their friend that they were meeting lives on the same street as the Bed and Breakfast I am at, so that was cool. We got into town really late because the train broke down a few times...I think it was a symptom of getting in so late at night. It was all good though. (c:

Okies, not a whole lot left. There will be more once I get to Roma. hehe. (c:

Alrighty kids, Enjoy and I'll talk to ya'll laters!