Reading List

I think I have a problem.
I am addicted beyond comprehension.

Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen

Star Wars + Organic Veggies = Awesome

Twilight Zone

The Obsolete Man

Compassion over Consumption

On the flight over to Washington DC for the Barack Obama Inauguration, I had with me a fascinating little book entitled “In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto”, to keep me company and my mind off the anticipation that was bubbling over to witness the creation and celebration of the history that was being made on such a memorable occasion. Living the juxtaposition of a vegetarian lifestyle and crocodile purses coupled with floor length leather jackets, has always been quite the comical amusement and bewilderment for most of my friends, and as my constant fascination with the belief, “you are what you eat,” has grown in age, so has my collection of designer Parisian leather stilettos. Nevertheless, as I landed in BWI, I, with complete ambiguity of my decisions and annoyed from the dirt that had collected on my camel hair boots, jumped into the black sedan car service that I had employed, and journeyed to the city to meet some friends for drinks.

That next evening, as I sat at dinner with a quite enjoyable gentleman, was suddenly taken aback at the sight of symmetry that had occurred upon our table, for he and I (both being vegetarians who drank dirty Kettle One martinis) had ordered almost the exact same meal, while jazz and Prince videos played in the background of the dimly lit restaurant. I asked him, as I usually do when I meet those who live a similar lifestyle as myself, why it was that he chose to be a vegetarian, and to my surprise, only one word escaped from his mouth, and that was, “Earthlings.” Being the documentary collector that I am, and after accumulating literally hundreds of them, I was honestly stunned from such a statement, and craved the opportunity to partake in such an experience. Nonetheless, I put the desire to the back of my mind, and lived the remainder of the evening and weekend, and month for that matter, in the happy oblivious nature, which was my life.

However, last night, after over a month, I remembered our conversation, and set out to rent the movie. After researching Earthlings, and discovering that Joaquin Phoenix had been the narrator and Moby did all of the music, I naively believed that such a documentary would be the perfect accent to the evening, and as I sat with my organic green tea in my over-sized Italian leather chair, expecting to immerse myself in the enjoyment of learning through film, I had no idea how such a simple movie would, and in all honesty could, eventually change my life.

The movie is broken into five parts:
1-Puppy Mills and Animal Shelters
2-Food
3-Clothing
4-Entertainment
5-Science

I volunteer at many different organizations, one of them is a humane society, and try my very best to love every animal that comes in, find them all caring homes, and do all that I can to nurture them to the best of my abilities while educating others on the importance of spaying and neutering their pets. This why Section 1 did nothing but infuriate me by the code of conduct that some of these disgraceful establishments operate under. Section 4, being entertainment, caused a mixed sort of emotion to rise within me, for even though I find those disgusting displays of animal cruelty such as bull fighting, rodeos and circuses unforgivable, I, being raised in northern Wisconsin, have always been taught by the Native Americans that hunting and fishing in order to cloth and feed your family, while respecting the soul and essence of the creature, is needed to balance nature. This is their culture, and for those people who tell me that they shouldn't be killing and eating these animals, I would like to remind them that we, the English who became Americans, stole their land and tried our very best to destroy their culture. Nonetheless, those who consider such an event a “sport” are in fact destroying and disrespecting the balance, and will never find true nourishment from what they seek, for they have already caused the initial instability within themselves. Section 5 did nothing but cement the belief and opinion that I already hold of the evil conglomerate Pharmaceutical Companies, and the vow that I will, under no circumstance, take medication (besides vitamins, soy protein powders, or anything such as these examples) unless it is absolutely necessary for my survival, and not just because a "doctor" tells me that I am shy, a little high strung, cannot concentrate, cannot fall asleep because I have drank too much black tea or am feeling morose due to a feeling of rejection and so on.

Section 2.

First off, I remember eating a rack of lamb once when I was very young, and after questioning where it came from, my response was, “Don’t ask me that, for you will ruin my appetite.” People in the states choose to live in ignorance and denial, for if confronted with the bloody and awful consequences of their decisions, they would most likely choose the compassion of another rather than consumption of their own appetence. However, as I sat in utter horror of what the FDA was and is allowing to happen, here, HERE, in the greatest country the world has ever seen, I uncontrollably began to cry. For over an hour and a half, I passionately bawled with each and every vision that made its way across the screen, of animals being treated like objects, instead of living and breathing creatures. Of people who cruelly and callously regard these beautiful animals as merchandise, and subjected them to such torture in an attempt to prove their dominance over something powerless, and regain some sort of twisted emotional capital that they most likely had lost somewhere in their pitiful, worthless, and empty lives. I wish to these individuals nothing but the Karmic lessons that one day they will in no doubt learn, and although my intellectual side tends to lean towards the Darwinian Philosophy of the Universe, I yearn for the Buddhists to be correct on such a subject, just for the satisfaction of endless lives to be lived by those who inflict such pain.

Finally, we have come to Section 3.

I have always loved the durability of leather. Leather seats, leather couches, leather jackets… The sensuality of crocodile purses, shoes, belts… Skins. Furs. Fashion. This is until I learned of where these garments were coming from, and how these animals were being killed. I always believed, or rather wanted to believe, that they were killed humanly and "nicely", and such companies that would charge $200 for a belt, or $800 for shoes, surely wouldn't kill these animals with pain. NO! It was a business! How could they act like that when they owned a business??? Of course I never researched anything, and just instead decided to blindly journey along my path of hypocrisy, while wearing clothing that selfishly made me feel somehow special. However, if I would have known the truth, that they are being slowly hacked to death with blunt knives after the promise to their poverty stricken owners of living out their lives on a farm in India (a country that believes the Cow is sacred within their religion), or how these awful people are, without conscience, skinning animals alive, or killing them with electricity so not to damage the fur. If I would just have known the truth, and even now as I type, I cannot control the river of guilt-filled-tears that are flowing down my face. The realization, that my lust of fashion has caused countless animals endless agony, and for what? So I, within all of my insecure need of acceptance, can flaunt my vanity in front of the world while wearing materials that I believed gave me a social standing among my peers. So I could wear the skins of another in an attempt to cover my own disrespectful sadness and naked obliviousness to the pain that I am undoubtedly causing. So I can brag about my own uselessness while trying to hide behind the face of an animal whose life was viciously and destructively torn away from them. I have lived for so long in a lie, and last night, as the realization of my decisions became clear, I vowed never again to endorse the fashionable practices that cause such undeniable pain. Pain that I unquestionably was creating for countless of innocent Earthlings. Pain that I could ended long ago.

Compassion : a deep awareness of and sympathy for another's suffering

One person may not be able to change the world, but the world is changed one person at a time, and tonight, you may consider me as one person who has changed from a vegetarian to a vegan.

j.

Naima

Reading List

Thank you Emily for this wonderful read.

6 Degrees, by Mark Lynas

And don't worry Mr. White Cover, for I will recycle.

Luke's Theme

To me, movies and music go hand in hand. When I'm writing a script, one of the first things I do is find the music I'm going to play for the opening sequence.
Quotation of Quentin Tarantino

I do believe that Quentin was so eloquently correct with such a statement, and for me, the one man who has timelessly captured two of my favorite opening theme moments in cinema is George Lucas. There is something about the cinematic-experience that is so indescribable; the anticipation of the line-wait; the smell of the over-priced theater popcorn; the sound of the sticky soda floor beneath your shoes; the feel of the theater seats who have prostituted themselves out countless times before you. Finally, after the varied array of Amuse-Bouche previews and the proceeding critical assessments of each, that reassuring split second before the opening theme reminds you that for the next two hours, all of the problems that may exist outside those theater doors no longer are of any consequence, for all that is left is the triumphant opening sequence.

Last night’s fourth installment of Indiana Jones’ epic journey, that I watched while in a discounted theater, reminded me, yet again, why it is that I adore George Lucas as much as I do. I suppose it is my blood though, for the first date of my extremely lucky parents was viewing the original run of Star Wars IV in 1977. All the while through my childhood, the Star Wars mentality was one of the central focuses of my upbringing, in both the Lucas Arts franchise and more importantly the symbiotic connection between ourselves and our surroundings that Yoda and the other Jedis so significantly spoke of frequently.

That love of the equilibrium relationship between life and the Force transcended into a fascination with biology, physics, philosophy, martial arts, religion, art and poetry. The older I become, the more I realize that George Lucas’ “Force”, in either his unconscious or deliberate understanding of such an amazing concept, is one of the paramount areas that my life has centered upon exploring. While geniuses such as Richard Dawkins and Susan Blackmore would find the Jedi Philosophy, also known as Jediism, quite comical in all actuality, the fundamental foundation of such a belief system (rooted in Taoism, Zen Buddhism, Christianity, Mysticism and martial arts) is built upon the idea that everything and everyone, is in some way or another connected.

Yoda: For my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. It's energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous being are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you. Here, between you, me, the tree, the rock...everywhere!

Imagine, for a moment, that instead of objectively viewing the equilibrium of nature from the outside, one could actually be at nature within it.

This will no doubt be a reoccurring topic in future posts, for each and every day I am learning more and more through my geek-adoring-desire of information. Nevertheless, I must go, for the 20th Century Fox trumpets have just triumphantly sounded...
and for the next 127 minutes, I am going to be lost in a galaxy far, far away . . .

j.

35

Why is it when the weather increases, even if only by such a small amount that under normal circumstances one wouldn’t give a second thought to a light jacket, I find myself yearning for the clarity of a walk? While most people are quickly cleaning off the snow that is ferociously gnawing away at the paint of their cars, like some flesh-eating virus that I probably just witnessed while watching King’s The Stand, I find myself casually wondering over to the teakettle to bask in the comfort of lemongrass.
Yes, today is a day not to be wasted.
I think I’ll take a nap.

But a Kiss...

Even though I'm not much of an avid television watcher, I do own a set, for living in a world without the comforting joy of the cinematic experience is something I can't even begin to fathom. While nine times out of ten you would find me watching either a documentary or a film Roger Ebert gives his golden seal of approval to, there are those extremely rare and special occasions when, for some reason or another, I put in the often dreaded and classically stereotypical "chick-flick". Maybe its because the desire to see these movies are memetically programmed into the female subconscious, but whatever the reason, I can't help but every once in a while, feel the need to have myself a good cry while escaping into someone else's unique experience of the word love.

There was once such a movie that I watched entitled French Kiss with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline that, to be completely honest, wasn't all that good, but had a line in it that to this day has always stuck with me. "A kiss is so intimate. You could probably disconnect from everything else, but a kiss... Two people's lips together, their breath, a little bit of their souls. All I mean is that
a kiss is where the romance is."

Growing up, all of my friends considered it to be completely normal to consummate the simplest of relationships or acquaintances as soon as possible, and due to my aversion to such an idea, often referred to me as the "cross-wearing-bible-reading-geek". I just couldn't understand how my friends could trust someone enough by allowing another human being temporarily inside of them, for even though the action of lust is purely physical, the residual consequences are usually psychologically invasive. This resulted in my inevitable course of sexual exploration being the art of the kiss, and oh my, what an art form it is.

There is so much you can learn about someone through the connectivity of two people momentarily coming together and engaging in a kiss. Their desires. Their fantasies. Their goals. Their character. Furthermore, you open a door to their inner soul, and no matter how brief, peer inside to discover the person they truly are and will some day become.

"...All I mean is that a kiss is where the romance is..." I've always found this line to be so uniquely beautiful, and even though some may consider me inexperienced in terms of the quantity of men who have woken up to the smell of my hair, I would never change a thing. For I will always have those moments that forever changed my life, and made me the person who I now am while slowly becoming.

And to you.


Thank you.


For that...


That was a kiss.


j.

Reading List

Eat Food.
Not too much.
Mostly plants.

In Defense of Food, by Michael Pollan

Brilliant.

Oh, that's where I put you...

I finally developed my film from the peak season in 54539.
Ahh, the anticipation for pricey digitals are making my fingers twitch with ecstasy.

I actually collected various leaves from the season and pressed them with the intention of turning these into a series. I'm thinking of canvas stretching them into 10x12s and matting the leaves in their own frames symmetrical the pictures...
Sounds good.

Maybe its the romantic in me, but I've always been in love with the simplicity of black and white film...

After Eight Years

After eight years, our country, in one voice, stood together and reclaimed our freedom.
I was lucky enough to be part of the celebration.

My cousin Ellen and I before we made the walk down to Grant Park.


My knight and shining armor who sold me the ticket.


So close I could smell the anticipation.


Free at last, free at last! Thank God almighty, I'm free at last!

Reading List

This is a short read that can be conquered within an hour, but this is the kind of book that has changed my life.

• The Power of Thought, by Eugene Maurey

6 Minutes and 24 Seconds...

This I Dig of Him

On Truth and Lie in an Extra-Moral Sense

But if we could communicate with the mosquito, then we would learn that he floats through the air with the same self-importance, feeling within itself the flying center of the world. There is nothing in nature so despicable or insignificant that it cannot immediately be blown up like a bag by a slight breath of this power of knowledge.

godfellas

"Right and wrong are just words. What matters, is what you do."

Top 5 Favorite...

I just finished watching the movie High Fidelity, and even though I have countlessly spouted this one specific line that John Cusack says, "It's not what you're like, it's what you like" to describe my adoration for various people, I finally feel like I really understand what he was meaning.

I'm just really wanting that record collection though right now. . .

and counting

...63 days...

Phone Photography

There is something so romantic about the simplicity discovered in camera-phone photography, for the grainy textures and distorted colors are rarely found through the lens of a modern day hand held.


Sky Series

Reading List

My brother left this extremely random book in my car, and after days of curiosity I finally paged threw it only to find that I hands down, positively, absolutely adore it.

Never Eat Alone, by Keith Ferrazzi

Lagavulin 16

Since I can remember, I have always been in such awe of those whose exquisite taste is nothing but a natural reaction to affluent upbringing, for my beginnings were humble, to say the least. It is this appreciation for such aesthetic simplicity that, in many ways, has led me to become the lover of the multifaceted art form of life that I am, and as I strolled into the movie store today to rent the documentary “Great Scotch Whiskeys”, I paused for a moment in front of the liquor store next door. There, staring at me in my three-month sober face was Lagavulin 16. The Summer weather was no match for that memory of a citrus sensation that warmed my body more and more with each sip, and for but an instant, I felt the intoxication of such decadence.

People’s desire for taste, for sophistication, more often than not out-weighs their basic understanding of the true nature of beauty; so instead, they look to fashion, sports cars and Cubans to fill that aching need inside of them. However, the ach persists, and almost becomes a cancer that stops at nothing to devour everything they once thought was beautiful. It is almost as if a plague has swept over our land, a dictator who instructs us to conform into an insecure consumer who thinks of nothing but more and not how or why, and in the end, we are left with nothing but empty shopping bags and cameras full of pictures from the previous evening’s indiscretions.

Beauty: the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest)

For ten years, I had been told what “beautiful” was, and I believed it, until recently.

Everyone’s definition of words will always be different inside of their mind, based upon the terminology that they have accepted as truth, but I am coming to the point where I no longer am afraid to say that I find it beautiful to design artistry into living, or to be highly spiritual, or to be colorfully shaped into a sound that sings. Besides... $75 for one night of intense indulgence that will inevitably leave me battered and bruised in the morning?

Maybe another moment, but until then, the warmth of anticipation for that flute and clarinet that will soon arrive on my door step will be more than enough to exquisitely sooth that need of personal acceptance... ... Anyways... ... everyone who really knows me... knows that deep inside... I am just looking for my Coltrane…
j.

Reading List

There is no other way to put this.

I love this book,
and
I wish I knew this man.

The Essential Writing of Ralph Waldo Emerson

Where Soul Meets Body

A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere...

I have been listening to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie as of late, and it makes me yearn for the days when it will again be lyrically acceptable for an artist to be socially responsible by painting their words of poetry on subjects of substance.

Someday I pray...

Reading List

Family is a strange thing.
Most of the time we are born with these people who have nothing in common with us but for our last name, and often we meet others along our journey who share a little more and will eventually learn to spell their name the same as we do. However, there are the few and extremely special times when we meet people who were born with a similar name and more alikeness to ourselves then we could ever imagine, but who disappeared for the majority of our lives, only to reappear once again. It is this last kind of family I am referring to when I now say that I have met an Angel.

Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

You know who you are.

Washing Over

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leafs a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost

A Small Part of Something Grand

There is an idealistic streak in many of us who get involved in politics. We have a longing for a great leader-the one we imagine as the mythical president of strong character, free of debilitating personal flaws, and committed to striving for high ideals and bringing about something as close to Camelot as we can get, where truth, goodness, and beauty reign supreme.

Scott McClellan

...

the Whisper is slowly threatening my seal of silence

Reading List

I have three jobs this summer, along with my two businesses and education, and have found a great unexpected joy that I have discovered in one of them. I work on a golf course, and if being outside on the course all day wasn't amazing enough, there are other advantageous privileges in working there: 1 - free golf greens 2 - time to read
So, during a time when normally I would be to busy to do basically anything, I have found a way of injecting my fall/winter/spring life into my very chaotic summer life.

• What Happened, by Scott McClellan
  

The only issue of importance is that I really don't think a lot of golfers read the same books that I do, and this can be slightly problematic (hence why I have learned to now take all the dust covers off...).

Within Us All

I once ran across a true gem entitled All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten in a vintage shop and snatched it up as quickly as I could.

Allowing something as precious as such to sit idly by on a dusty shelf is as close to sacrilegious as one can get, in a store designed to help the less fortunate. Such an amazing afternoon followed, for each page that I turned reminded me of my own unique experience that was the innocently adolescent year of kindergarten and all the lessons that I learned.
Share everything.
Play fair.
Clean up your own mess.
Do not take things that are not yours.
Say you are sorry when you hurt somebody.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Take a nap every afternoon.

Moreover, it reminded me that there is something else cleverly implanted within us socially that first year, and that is the acknowledgement of the pride found within the pledge of allegiance and the symbol of our flag. Every morning before the eventual art classes and story hours, everyone in my grade would anxiously wait to declare to the world that we knew all the words to our nation’s pledge, and as I would stand in front of the flag, my eyes began to slowly open and understand the honor that was involved in being an American.

I love my country, and there is no simpler way to say it. The American Dream is something of legend heard around the world, for this nation is the land of unlimited possibilities. Only in America, can someone with five dollars in their pocket and a dream in their heart, achieve the astonishing goal of true accomplishment. Only in America, can someone voice their opinion so freely without the fear of judicial imprisonment, or have the expectation of equal rights for each and every resident that considers this wonderful land home. Lady Liberty has built her reputation of freedom and democracy upon the blood, sweat and tears of her loyal citizens and no amount of gold or temptation of gain will tear it away from us, for we are America.

That unconditional love and admiration for my country is why it pains me as much as it does when I gaze upon what we have allowed ourselves to become, for we are a vague shadow of who we once were. Within a single decade, we have swallowed ourselves in endless consumption and debt, for no other reason than to purchase things we are told we need to posses by carefully designed advertisements and marketing strategies, but in all actuality understand we seriously do not require them. We have accepted the television as an adequate alternative to proper parental guardianship and guidance, and question with complete ambiguity as to why our children are morbidly obese and suffering from childhood diabetes. The fast food drive threw has replaced fresh farmers markets, and while two thirds of our country are killing themselves with preservatives and chemically engineered carbohydrates, the other third is going to bed hungry and on the brink of starvation. The goal of one day owning your own home and creating a nest egg for your family has been eradicated by the mortgage crisis and a few sycophantic lobbyists pursuing the easy dollar. These same lobbyists are the ones protecting the interests of conglomerate corporations who are driving our gas prices, food prices, and insurance prices to the point that families are making the decision to either put food on the table or gasoline in their car or pay for their child’s medical bills or their own prescription drugs.

The American Dream is slowly dissolving into a fantasy that most American’s will never truly experience, and while some politicians arrogantly claim that there are two Americas, I throw my hands in the air and proclaim there can only be one. There must be a united America, where we are no longer afraid to demand that our government takes care of us; where we work together altruistically through the sharing of resources for the greater good of humanity, where we depend upon one another to protect our neighborhoods from crime and abuse. I have sincere hope that this America still exists inside of us all and as the tears swell in my eyes, I, from the depths of my soul, know that all we need is someone or something to remind us of whom we could be if we all worked together.

If it is indeed true that everything we ever needed to know, we learned during that first year, and then is it so hard to believe that deep inside of us all there is, not only the craving as Dale Carnegie says, but moreover the possibility of greatness. If we began to utilize those amazingly beautiful traits that were quietly conditioned into all of us at such a tender age, imagine what, not only a country, but also a world we could create. Some may think of me as an eternally idealistic human being, for like Thomas Moore, I dream of a place that is not cursed with the social shackles we too often witness all around us: a true Utopian civilization where its inhabitants realize that only with everyone's collective cooperation can perpetual prosperity flourish. With proper encouragement, those luminescently simple qualities that were planted inside of us all in our youth, could blossom within our character and yield results unimaginable at our present moment. For when we have accepted that love and kindness produces far better results in society than anger and violence, we will have evolved into a species that not even Charles Darwin himself could have dreamt of perceiving. And in the end, maybe we will learn that after all our hard work is said and done, the only thing left we will have the desire to require, will be warm cookies, a cold glass milk and a long, well deserved nap.

j.

Mixed Tape

Someone once said, "Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on Earth come emulating flies"

And then it was summer...



1 Going to California, by Led Zeppelin


2 Embryonic Journey, by Jefferson Airplane


3 1979, by The Smashing Pumpkins


4 Change, by Blind Melon


5 Badfish, by Sublime


6 Burn One Down, by Ben Harper


7 Three Little Birds, by Bob Marley


8 I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz


9 Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World, by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

Reading List

After much anticipation, I am finally having the opportunity to read a true masterpiece.

• Your Government Failed You, by Richard A. Clarke
  

No doubt there will be a blog about this when I am finished, for I feel the inspiration bubbling with only 100 pages being ingested.

When It Rains

Rain + the absence + EA Poe = Sunday Alone

First Impressions

For the past two days, I lost myself within the written word, and this morning, finally remembered that there are appointments to keep, as the birds sang to me through the cold breeze of my open window. Who to better transport you into a different time or place than Jane Austen herself? She is my favorite fictional author, and I find it poetically tragic that the greatest romantic writer in history never married, and died at such a young age. Her characters at this point have become, in a way, almost family to me, and each time I read one of her books, it is like returning home to long, never forgotten friends who greet me just as warmly as the first day we met. Everyone who has read her books, I am sure, can agree on this point, and there is one gentleman in particular whom I hold in such an amiable light, that all other men I find myself constantly comparing to him. Then again, who can ever compare to Mr. Darcy?

I understand his character so indescribably well, and even though I know my emotions are meant to be drastically changed through the volumes, I can’t help but become more bewitched by each word that I read of my dear Darcy, and more engrossed in the bitterness that I feel towards the young and naive Elizabeth. I am lost by those who cannot truly desire to appreciate the World’s perfect man: a man whose kindness and generosity are only matched by his intelligence, faithfulness and devotion (my five favorite qualities in a partner), for as many times as I search for this particular temper, I become disappointed by it’s apparent elusiveness. I am sure the bitterness towards Lizzy is but a reflection of my own prejudices that I have held on to so ardently, based upon assumption or malicious conversation, against those who did not deserve such blind scrutiny.

How many times do we cry out for equality in the world, and yet but a moment later, cast out such unjust verdicts upon another? We so very frequently believe all that we are told, and even though truth will stare at us in the face, we desperately cling to our ill-conceived opinions. No matter how good we feel ourselves to be, or how holy we imagine our intentions, there is still a poison that lurks within us, and craves to find it’s way out. A poison that was unintentionally placed there at birth by the world that we have chosen to live, and whose antidote, as I see it, can only be the freedom of genuinely understanding all those around us, and having the wisdom of empathy to allow their actions not to be taken personally.

Although, if the wonderfully independent Elizabeth hadn’t advantageously taught the lesson of humility to my darling Darcy by the phrase, “Had you behaved in a more gentleman like manor,” he never would have looked inside and realized his own armor of shyness and pride were illusions restricting his personal growth and love for another. I suppose that is why I turn away from television as much as I do and find myself constantly reading. The escapism of the written word eventually finds its way to reveal the similarities in our every day lives. However the one parallelism that I am endlessly searching for, the one phrase that I have never uttered but deep inside know that I someday will is, “she only smiles, I laugh.”
j.

If Not When

You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of the next
moment. All the immense
images in me-- the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected
turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods-
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house--, and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,--
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,
gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows?
perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, seperate, in the evening...

Rainer Maria Rilke

*sigh*

Vito Corleone.

Enough said.

Spring is in the Air

All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.
Friedrich Nietzsche

Is it just me, or do I need a new lens?

Reading List

All of my books arrived today, and it was quite the FedEx Christmas morning :)

I'm mixing a little Douglas Adams in with Richard Dawkins (who by the way were friends), for all this non fiction, although wonderfully insightful, is causing me to feel a little down this week.

"A little down" being a euphemism for a strange feeling of emptiness that for some reason or another I can't shake.

Mixed Tape

~If you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you~


I've really been in need of a new soundtrack to live to... Maybe its all the Nietzsche; I'm not completely sure.




1 God Moving Over the Face of the Water, by Moby


2 Ride, by The Cary Brothers


3 Silence, by Olivia Broadfield


4 It's a Fire, by Portishead


5 GOCCE, by T.Zanotti


6 Do Me Good, by Amy Winehouse


7 Crazy for You, by Adele


8 Lover Man, by Billie Holliday


9 Naima, by John Coltrane

Reading List

I just ordered an exorbitant amount of books from Amazon, and I can't even begin to articulate how excited I am! Richard Dawkins has truly become an intellectual inspiration to me, and I have found myself intensely dehydrated lately and thirsting to ingest every little bit of knowledge I can; especially when the information comes from such a genius.

• The Selfish Gene, by Richard Dawkins

Next I'm moving onto memes, but life and knowledge are very similar in the aspect that they are both a gradual slope on the metaphorical mountain of experience.

in search of spurious perfection

The result of needless human consumption is truly tragic, and although most attempts to alter such human behavior are frequently discarded, I couldn't help but find this ironically beautiful.

Oscar Worthy

The 11th Hour

Levou

I already knew I was a definition, but now I am also a brand :)

This is for U.

The concept of time has always been something that has truly captivated my interest, for the more I learn about the art of perception, the more the notion of time seams to be but an illusion. I am a sincere lover of the English language, and very often use the dictionary to reference not only the meaning of words, but also to realize how people’s personal terminology can have great effect upon the true understanding of a chosen phrase. For example, “love” has countless definitions intertwined within its meaning. One person when hearing the word “love” could associate it with joy or lust, while another could hear the same four letters and think of pain or jealousy, for our definitions are based upon what we have learned through the events that we have experienced.

Ten years. Ten. Looking back, I can remember that while trapped within the moment of my particular memory, it seamed as though all time around me slowed in such a way that the mere thought of tomorrow was too painful to conceive. How many times I wished I could just make it end, no matter where that path would lead me, for anything would be better than that emptiness that consumed me so. I would hear people all around me saying time heals all wounds or other half-mediocre philosophical quotes, and I would only beg to be raptured in the divine silence of the end. However, time passed, and one day I woke up …

It seams as though we as people become lost within our emotions, and whether our experiences are good or bad, time at its fundamental core breaks down to one simple choice: yes or no. We have all felt that moment of resonation, that should I call you back or no, should I have this drink or no; should I disagree or no, should I? Furthermore, we all know what happens when we rebelliously do not listen to Jiminy, and when finally faced with the consequences of our decisions, whether positive or negative, we all instantaneously transport back to that initial decision. The fantasizing of such alternate scenarios, while pausing with the possibilities, seams at that second endless. What we could have done. Where we could have been. What we could have accomplished, and even more all because of that one moment; that one decision where we could have chosen not what we “wanted” but what we needed.

I could say it a million different ways, but right now, without excuse, without explanation, I exercise my choice of gratitude. I honestly, and from the deepest recesses of my heart thank you. For everything. All the pain. All the joy. All the love and all the learning. I thank you. Its no longer about forgiveness, for all that I am left with is the acceptance of acknowledging who we were. Who you allowed me to be. Who you saved me from becoming, and from this moment on, no matter how people define the clarification of “us” in the cosmic dictionary of the past, I will always acknowledge you as the greatest teacher that one little girl from 54539, ever could have dreamed of experiencing.
j.

Has it really been Four Years?

I ran across these when I was going through some of my old negatives.

I hope where ever you are, you are living the art that is inside of you.

Reading List

I read the most fascinating article in the Sunday paper by Nicholas D. Kristof, and decided to purchase some new material from Amazon immediately. Normally I would venture out into the world and spend a few glorious hours loosing the afternoon, totally consumed in a bookstore, but due to my remote location and the atrocious price of gasoline, I have resorted to the internet yet again.

• True Enough, by Farhad Manjoo

So, as I anxiously wait for my package to arrive I will have to make due, yet again, with the entertaining antics of the lovely Dashwood sisters to occupy my imagination.

1998

Ten years.

I wish I had something eloquent to utter upon the subject that is consuming my thoughts, but alas…

j.

... usps asap ...

mo·not·o·ny [muh-not-n-ee] –noun
1. wearisome uniformity or lack of variety, as in occupation or scenery.
2. the continuance of an unvarying sound; monotone.
3. sameness of tone or pitch, as in speaking.
4. 4-20-08 - 4-25-08 @ 6425 54539

The Poetry of Music

{designed to be enjoyed harmoniously}


Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning
For idle dreams of things which cannot be:

To-day, I will seek not the shadowy region;
Its un-sustaining vastness waxes drear;
And visions rising, legion after legion,
Bring the unreal world too strangely near.

I'll walk, but not in old heroic traces,
And not in paths of high morality,
And not among the half-distinguished faces,
The clouded forms of long-past history.

I'll walk where my own nature would be leading:
It vexes me to choose another guide:
Where the gray flocks in ferny glens are feeding;
Where the wild wind blows on the mountain side

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing?
More glory and more grief than I can tell:
The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling
Can center both the worlds of Heaven and Hell.

EMILY BRONTË

Vitali Chaconne

Reading List

I watched the new Real Time with Bill Maher last night and was thoroughly pleased with not only the guests, but also the topics on the books that the guests have written. So, I have decided to journey to the book store and pick up some new knowledge in a convenient little carrying case, for even though I love my dear old companions : (How to Win Friends and Influence People & The Four Agreements) you can never say no to the chance of fresh acquaintances.

• Your Government Failed You by, Richard E. Clarke (5/08)
• The God Delusion by, Richard Dawkins
  

This video clip is from the show, and I am drawing your attention to the last minute when Jason Alexander tells his story about His cousin the Pilot (... no Jerry, not the episode). There are very few times when I have been so completely caught off guard and laughed with such enthusiasm by simply watching a genius at work, but then again, I suppose that is why we consider them to be geniuses.

Watch the Entire Episode

A Letter to You

It saddens me to see you like this...

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
ea poe.

White Picket Fences

I'm afraid.

But not of the possibility of failure.

I once read that there is a quiet joy that safety holds within the bonds of failure, for there you find the regularity of comfort. This statement has never resonated more profoundly for my ears than when I awoke this morning.

I would be completely content teaching second graders, having my summers off to spend traveling with my family, and living a semi-modest life married to an articulate, political, spiritual and hilarious artist, whom I passionately would be in love with as we took our dog for walks. That is the life which seams the safest and most reasonable to live. Although, with only a very short time left, I wonder if my veil of safety has caused me more pain than growth. So many times I have lived my life in accordance of the traditional American values that I, from birth, was taught, and because of this social conditioning, I have continuously turned away from the impossible dream of maybe to the white picket fence of tomorrow.

There must be more. There must be.

The only thing that binds me to that fence is the unquestionable fate of the loneliness which I am about to witness. I have studied pop culture for years now, and there is one undeniable truth within that fairytale of California, and that is the sweet smile of love who sees nothing but the dollar sign hiding beneath your skin. I have written all the tortured love songs that I choose to, and not needing the inspiration of such pain to paint my words of poetry, I feel my fingers clinging desperately to that fence of modesty.

The world has not progressed as far as it has by those who haven't the courage for change.

Difficult is only defined by what is temporarily different.

Loneliness is the blessing of spending time with your closest companion.

I have the courage to be temporarily lonely. I do. And if the winds of change quietly beckon me westward to that fantastical land, then that is where I will lay my roots. However, after that road has been walked, I will find that artist who whispers to me in my dreams, and together, we will paint that fence of romance I always knew I would some day touch...

j.