Thursday, January 29, 2009

I feel small. Cosmically, yes, I am aware of how tiny a dent, the pinprick on eternity I will be. But here, today, in my own apartment, I feel so small. Who is to measure the size of a life? Friends, family, society? Is the purpose to have purpose? Small enough to be let go, flung. Small enough to miss days, weeks of daylight and have no one wonder where you've gone. How to be big? Big enough to burst open doorways, shine to a squint and keep the revolving molten core out, out never to be doused? How big is enough?

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

It is late night, early morning in between Martin Luther King Jr. Day and the inauguration of our 44th president and I keep thinking about the ideas some people have expressed about the ability to control your environment. In effect, affect it to any outcome you wish. You wish for wealth, you focus on wealth, you will have it. You wish for health, you focus on health, then health you will have. If this is so true, then the reverse would apply and each negative, or seemingly unasked for encounter would in actuality be desired. The blind seek blindness, the deaf seek not to hear and then the argument takes the turn to where I can no longer bend my reason to see. How did a public turn so ego-centric as to assume that they can and will control the entire Universe as they will? They influenced all forces to induce tsunamis by uncontrollable negative emotions and therefore deserved to be swept out to sea with the village of their birth? Women seeking firewood to cook there sole meal asked for, stood up and requested by their negative impact of being on the planet, to be raped by 13 armed rebels on a pile of corpses from the devastated village? This is reason? This is cosmic, worldly, godly justice for being a human? If only those black Sudanese women had felt higher and better things, thought better, they would not have been tortured. If you produced higher vibrations the universe would place in your hands all that you desire, if only, if only. No matter how high you vibrate or how positive the words you speak float from your lips and touch that strand of energy between us all; death will come, bodies breakdown, atrocities will happen and ones you love will disappoint no matter the investment.

Being human is being imperfect. Being alive is not knowing what is going to happen next. Thinking you want what the Mountain holds gives you no right to remove its top regardless of the surroundings. We no doubt affect each other and can affect our own lives, but to think you are the center went away with Copernicus and the discovery of the earth revolving around the Sun, not the Earth being the center of the Universe as people chose to believe. There is a whole world, a whole Universe swirling around us. If you refuse to notice it, no wonder you think you are the whole. All that is left with that philosophy? A big empty.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Is a Rothko art to my Brother that coos like a baby when he holds a Rock River rifle in his hands, marveling at its craftsmanship? Is a fragrance art? What about two people maneuvering through downtown traffic on their banana seat bikes, heavy woven caps and unrelenting smiles breaking and beaming brighter than the winter sun? Is that art? Loving, no holds barred ...... the dance of all you are, a grace. How to classify which medium to measure your art? Is art the pleasure or the sharing? Both?

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Once again, I'm not sleeping and the hurt is spilling over into the front of my mind and blurring my focus. The holiday has come and gone. It was wonderful to be with the people I love and I know value me for how I am and who I am. Bursts of understanding, these flairs of truth just spark me into this ultra reality and oddly calm the underlying dread of never being able to untie the knot I have tied to a person, for nearly my entire life. Now finding how they were wriggling and manipulating the knot to choke any chance of understanding how little, how small I was no matter how much I gave. For give is all they wanted to see from me. If I wasn't giving, the math was wrong. No wonder I add to subtract. I add. I add. This has only subtracted from me? That can't be. I must have more because I gave more. Pardon myself by pardoning others. I deserve more than leavings and scraps. I deserve more.

The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.