from June 08
puts down book and sighs*
Latin American writers attach magic to the most every day thing. Is that how it is culturally? I should ask ---.
Where are the kids? There’s --- … where’s the girl? There she is. Both are having such fun. I’m so glad I made the decision to slash hours and rearrange schedule until they go off to camp.
Oy. July 20 is around the corner. I’m going to miss them so much. Don’t think about it. Just think about what a grand time they will have at camp. And I think I will go with --- to Napa in August. I will be in such high gear with work and a break will be nice.
Wonder how bad new business development is going to suffer with my withdrawing for nearly two months? Maybe I should go to that reception with --- next week. He always has the best introductions for me. Plus, he’ll flirt with me and tell me how fabulous I am. How is it that Southern men can pull that off and not make you feel like they are hitting on you and expecting sex?
Oh God. I better make sure its not a Republican thing. That last one, I just about died. Never bit my tongue so much in my life.
Can’t believe Bush had actually considered a veto of the new GI Bill. Fucker. The very least we can give those who go to war for us is a college education.
*flips iPod to Jack Johnson and looks at the trees and sky*
You know for suburbia, this ain’t half bad. I miss home a lot but have really gotten used to the trees.
Wonder why more people are facing the parking lot and pool house rather than the trees over there?
*looks at toes*
I like this frosty pink on my toenails. Or would like her red polish better? Wow, my feet are practically hanging off the end of the chaise compared to hers. Isn’t the average height of a woman 5’5”?
*bends knees so foot is 4 inches closer*
So this would be my view if I wasn’t so tall. How strange that is. I wonder if the backs of my thighs have that many dimples when I’m sitting.
*cranes neck trying to see*
I can’t tell. Nor can I exactly say, “hey do I have much cellulite as you do?” I know I don’t have it standing up. Maybe if she stood up… if she doesn’t have it either, then maybe that’s what other people are seeing right now.
I wonder what she is thinking. She’s not once gotten into the pool. Why is that? It is a perfect day for it. Maybe she has a complicated ‘do and is going out tonight. Its shorter so she can’t exactly do the quick pony tail or loose clip thingy.
That was so funny when --- announced the other day that my hair looks best in a ponytail. He’s 8 and a boy for goodness sakes. I wonder why? Maybe its some sort of infant memory?
He used to grab ahold of my pony tail when I was nursing him. He’d stroke it between his thumb and index finger over and over again. Or his little hand would try to find some skin under my shirt. He didn’t want the cloth, he wanted my skin. It would burrow until it found what it wanted.
On the other hand, --- used to do that funny foot wiggle thing when she nursed. What a wonderful time that was. Are my baby days forever behind me? Will the next fat footed toddler padding around my feet be my grandchild?
*looks over at the woman across the way*
Wonder why she has such a frown. Is she one of those people whose “relaxed” face is a frown? Or is she thinking about something that is making her annoyed?
Now that would be an interesting blog to read, just what is floating through a person’s mind when they are sitting somewhere alone. Maybe I should do that. Trick would be to stop right now thinking and jot down everything that just popped through my head that I can remember.
Then again, maybe I’m the only person who’d think it is interesting. And my blog really is an exercise in narcissism, unlike the blogs that are poems, stories or information.
Or should I figure out what I want to make for dinner tonight? There is some trout in the freezer that might be good…
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Buried Skeletons
from June 2008
My mom divides friends into two categories:
1) Friends
2) Friends Who Know Where All the Skeletons Are Buried
The second kind of friend is the one you hold onto. Its not at all that they've got something on you. I used understand it to mean that you have nothing to fear. They've seen you at your worse. You can't feel stupid or embarrassed around them.
But lately, I've come to realize its actually more than that. This occurred to me while sitting across the table with an old friend. He's one of those friends who knows all. The good, the bad, the ugly. Every last skeleton. And I know his as well.
What I think my mom really means by the phrase is that because they know your history, they really understand what is going on in your present. You don't have to relive some embarrassing or painful past experience to make your friend understand
You can even speak in half sentences and gestures and completely follow what they are trying to tell you. They get you.
When I've gone a few weeks or more without sitting face to face with one of these friends, once I am, it feels like I had just come in from out of a cold rain. I bask in the warmth and am so very grateful.
But the funny thing is, I hadn't realized until I've actually come out of the rain that it was actually raining.
My mom divides friends into two categories:
1) Friends
2) Friends Who Know Where All the Skeletons Are Buried
The second kind of friend is the one you hold onto. Its not at all that they've got something on you. I used understand it to mean that you have nothing to fear. They've seen you at your worse. You can't feel stupid or embarrassed around them.
But lately, I've come to realize its actually more than that. This occurred to me while sitting across the table with an old friend. He's one of those friends who knows all. The good, the bad, the ugly. Every last skeleton. And I know his as well.
What I think my mom really means by the phrase is that because they know your history, they really understand what is going on in your present. You don't have to relive some embarrassing or painful past experience to make your friend understand
You can even speak in half sentences and gestures and completely follow what they are trying to tell you. They get you.
When I've gone a few weeks or more without sitting face to face with one of these friends, once I am, it feels like I had just come in from out of a cold rain. I bask in the warmth and am so very grateful.
But the funny thing is, I hadn't realized until I've actually come out of the rain that it was actually raining.
Portraits
from June 08
Last weekend I was at the National Portrait Gallery to see "Ballyhoo", this was an exhibit that was a look at historical posters that used portraits to sell. Not just product or entertainment but also to promote a political point. Specifically the choice of portrait and how it was used. They even had the Wanted Poster of John Wilkes Booth after he had assassinated President Lincoln.
The idea was to follow how art, pop-culture and marketing work together. Given both my love of art and profession, it was a fun exhibit. And my companion that afternoon is not only in politics but was political history major. So I learned a lot.
As we were leaving, we came upon an exhibit of a series of black and white portraits all shot by Edward Steichen for Conde Nast publications. Subjects were the movers and shakers of times past from many different industries. Many I recognized or knew from history... but many I had no idea who they were.
He sought not just to capture the likeness in a beautifully composed shot but a bit of their personality as well. There were so many riveting pictures but for some reason it was the portrait of Henry Luce that I loved the most.
He was the founding publisher of TIme, Life AND Fortune magazines. These were all revolutionary magazines in their time. They changed the way the we received their news.
It was his pose that was so arresting I think. He is comfortably sitting in an easy chair... legs out stretched and crossed. He looks relaxed but still elegant. The camera angle is from the side so he is in profile. And its back lit so he has almost this glow to him. He's also holding a cigarette and the smoke twists and turns as it floats away. I fancied the idea was to convey Mr. Luce visions are very much a part of who he is.
Portraiture was actually what I first connected with in the art world... I think I was 12 years old. It was because the subjects were real people with a story that was all their own. Those stories were sometimes recorded somewhere, but more often than not they were lost. I'd stare hard at their eyes trying to see if the artist was able to give me a hint. Then I discovered that the artist used other devices to share who that person was with the objects in the painting as well as the pose. Which led to my learning about symbolism etc and then my passion really evolved beyond portraits.
But, I still remember my first love. Part of it was that my imagination would really run wild whenever I'd be STRONGLY drawn to a particular one. I'd always been intrigued by the idea of reincarnation. So I"d consider the idea that in another life I knew that person. I'd tell myself all sorts of stories. I stopped that daydreaming sometime in college.
I had completely forgotten my flights of fancy when looking a exhibits of portraits until looking at Mr. Steichen's work. All those faces peering out at me and I started to daydream again. Wouldn't it have been cool if any single person passing through that day, who couldn't tear their eyes away from a portrait was because in another life they loved that person or they were that person?!?
I think I will bring my kids back one weekend to see a collection and tell them that little fun idea to consider.
Last weekend I was at the National Portrait Gallery to see "Ballyhoo", this was an exhibit that was a look at historical posters that used portraits to sell. Not just product or entertainment but also to promote a political point. Specifically the choice of portrait and how it was used. They even had the Wanted Poster of John Wilkes Booth after he had assassinated President Lincoln.
The idea was to follow how art, pop-culture and marketing work together. Given both my love of art and profession, it was a fun exhibit. And my companion that afternoon is not only in politics but was political history major. So I learned a lot.
As we were leaving, we came upon an exhibit of a series of black and white portraits all shot by Edward Steichen for Conde Nast publications. Subjects were the movers and shakers of times past from many different industries. Many I recognized or knew from history... but many I had no idea who they were.
He sought not just to capture the likeness in a beautifully composed shot but a bit of their personality as well. There were so many riveting pictures but for some reason it was the portrait of Henry Luce that I loved the most.
He was the founding publisher of TIme, Life AND Fortune magazines. These were all revolutionary magazines in their time. They changed the way the we received their news.
It was his pose that was so arresting I think. He is comfortably sitting in an easy chair... legs out stretched and crossed. He looks relaxed but still elegant. The camera angle is from the side so he is in profile. And its back lit so he has almost this glow to him. He's also holding a cigarette and the smoke twists and turns as it floats away. I fancied the idea was to convey Mr. Luce visions are very much a part of who he is.
Portraiture was actually what I first connected with in the art world... I think I was 12 years old. It was because the subjects were real people with a story that was all their own. Those stories were sometimes recorded somewhere, but more often than not they were lost. I'd stare hard at their eyes trying to see if the artist was able to give me a hint. Then I discovered that the artist used other devices to share who that person was with the objects in the painting as well as the pose. Which led to my learning about symbolism etc and then my passion really evolved beyond portraits.
But, I still remember my first love. Part of it was that my imagination would really run wild whenever I'd be STRONGLY drawn to a particular one. I'd always been intrigued by the idea of reincarnation. So I"d consider the idea that in another life I knew that person. I'd tell myself all sorts of stories. I stopped that daydreaming sometime in college.
I had completely forgotten my flights of fancy when looking a exhibits of portraits until looking at Mr. Steichen's work. All those faces peering out at me and I started to daydream again. Wouldn't it have been cool if any single person passing through that day, who couldn't tear their eyes away from a portrait was because in another life they loved that person or they were that person?!?
I think I will bring my kids back one weekend to see a collection and tell them that little fun idea to consider.
George, The Duck
from 6/7/08
My local creek has stretch that resembles a pond. Its about hundred or so yards past one of my favorite areas: "The tunnel of honeysuckle." Once you pass through this very sweet but shaded area... you're to the "pond". And for the last few weeks, I’ve noticed is home to a lone male mallard duck. I had wondered where his mate was... Did she die? Had he yet to meet her? My only real life observations of the Anseriform Family have been limited to the Canadian geese that frequent these parts as well as some swans. Never really paid attention to ducks.
That's also probably due to the fact I get very skittish around large flocks of ducks or really any kind of bird. Feeding them is not a "good time" to me, much to the amusement of my kids.
Despite my overall discomfort, being the curious person that I am, did a bit of research. And I felt for the little lone fellow. Aren't they supposed to be in flocks or pairs?
Well it turns out that these ducks only pair up until she lays her eggs. Then he’s outta there. So my guy may have moved in because he’s done his duck duty and now is footloose and fancy free. His fine self is paddling around happy as can be down there. I giggle to liken him to that other beautiful but perennial famous bachelor: George Clooney. So I named him George in his honor.
Those male mallards are certainly interesting little creatures. In addition to the ditching their mate they also will engage in “rape flight” if they fail to secure a one that season. The males will gang up on female and take turns with her.
And get this... they will also do the same sometimes to another MALE. [Insert favorite prison shower joke here.]
Or they will pair up with another solo male. Turns out that some science-types documented that close to 20% of the male duck population is gay. Which makes me wonder if they stick together indefinitely as no eggs are going to be laid.
There was even one documented observation of a male mallard copulating with a DEAD male mallard. The poor thing had broken its neck slamming into a sliding glass door. And I thought some of the men I've met were desperate.
There is no way to know George’s orientation or history. But it is fun to consider whether or not one day I’ll see another male or female paddling next to him.
I’m a bit concerned though... We had violent series of thunderstorms recently. They were so strong that 50 foot trees had blown over. I counted at least six along the mile or so long looping path. There may be more closer to the creek but hard to tell in the dense foliage. On one part of the bike path that runs parallel to the creek, a tree had toppled and the roots that lay under the asphalt tore it up.
I imagine it must have felt like the world had been turned upside down to those creatures who call that creek and surrounding watershed home. Hopefully he wasn’t hurt by a crashing tree or scared out of his home. Maybe he’ll come home soon. I already miss George.
My local creek has stretch that resembles a pond. Its about hundred or so yards past one of my favorite areas: "The tunnel of honeysuckle." Once you pass through this very sweet but shaded area... you're to the "pond". And for the last few weeks, I’ve noticed is home to a lone male mallard duck. I had wondered where his mate was... Did she die? Had he yet to meet her? My only real life observations of the Anseriform Family have been limited to the Canadian geese that frequent these parts as well as some swans. Never really paid attention to ducks.
That's also probably due to the fact I get very skittish around large flocks of ducks or really any kind of bird. Feeding them is not a "good time" to me, much to the amusement of my kids.
Despite my overall discomfort, being the curious person that I am, did a bit of research. And I felt for the little lone fellow. Aren't they supposed to be in flocks or pairs?
Well it turns out that these ducks only pair up until she lays her eggs. Then he’s outta there. So my guy may have moved in because he’s done his duck duty and now is footloose and fancy free. His fine self is paddling around happy as can be down there. I giggle to liken him to that other beautiful but perennial famous bachelor: George Clooney. So I named him George in his honor.
Those male mallards are certainly interesting little creatures. In addition to the ditching their mate they also will engage in “rape flight” if they fail to secure a one that season. The males will gang up on female and take turns with her.
And get this... they will also do the same sometimes to another MALE. [Insert favorite prison shower joke here.]
Or they will pair up with another solo male. Turns out that some science-types documented that close to 20% of the male duck population is gay. Which makes me wonder if they stick together indefinitely as no eggs are going to be laid.
There was even one documented observation of a male mallard copulating with a DEAD male mallard. The poor thing had broken its neck slamming into a sliding glass door. And I thought some of the men I've met were desperate.
There is no way to know George’s orientation or history. But it is fun to consider whether or not one day I’ll see another male or female paddling next to him.
I’m a bit concerned though... We had violent series of thunderstorms recently. They were so strong that 50 foot trees had blown over. I counted at least six along the mile or so long looping path. There may be more closer to the creek but hard to tell in the dense foliage. On one part of the bike path that runs parallel to the creek, a tree had toppled and the roots that lay under the asphalt tore it up.
I imagine it must have felt like the world had been turned upside down to those creatures who call that creek and surrounding watershed home. Hopefully he wasn’t hurt by a crashing tree or scared out of his home. Maybe he’ll come home soon. I already miss George.
A Mother's Duty
from 6/10/08
In saying goodbye to my kids as they go off to school, I say to the boy, “I’ll see you at your class picnic today. Remember your Dad can’t make it today.”
He replies with an “ok”, but Mama is picking up on a sadness/disappointment under that. That’s not the way to begin your day. So I respond with, “And you know what that means don’t you?”
Intrigued, he says, “What?”
“We’ll have to talk about him since he’s not there. Let’s start a rumor about your dad!” Now I’ve caught my daughter’s attention, she’s now listening with a smile.
“Let’s tell EVERYONE Daddy has a third nipple!” I gleefully add.
The girl giggles. My son says “You are so weird.” But he’s smiling. I can tell the mood is lifting. Just one more thing, then my motherly duty will be completed...
“We’ll tell people its on his chin and that’s why he has a beard. To cover it.” Both children burst out laughing.
Now they may go to school
In saying goodbye to my kids as they go off to school, I say to the boy, “I’ll see you at your class picnic today. Remember your Dad can’t make it today.”
He replies with an “ok”, but Mama is picking up on a sadness/disappointment under that. That’s not the way to begin your day. So I respond with, “And you know what that means don’t you?”
Intrigued, he says, “What?”
“We’ll have to talk about him since he’s not there. Let’s start a rumor about your dad!” Now I’ve caught my daughter’s attention, she’s now listening with a smile.
“Let’s tell EVERYONE Daddy has a third nipple!” I gleefully add.
The girl giggles. My son says “You are so weird.” But he’s smiling. I can tell the mood is lifting. Just one more thing, then my motherly duty will be completed...
“We’ll tell people its on his chin and that’s why he has a beard. To cover it.” Both children burst out laughing.
Now they may go to school
Interpreting Ancient/Historical Writings in Modern Times
from 6/13/08
I'm very fond of some Hindu scripture that basically declares that there is no ONE way to God. "People follow different paths, straight or crooked, according to their temperament, depending on which they consider best, or most appropriate—and all reach You {God}, just as rivers reach the ocean."
This is something I not only believe but have taught my children.
What truly fascinates me lately... India is where Hinduism was born. But so was the caste system. I'd like some day to understand how that was possible that both of these cultural and religious beliefs were practiced.
I wonder if its like our founding fathers... they wrote "all men were created equal" yet owned slaves. Women were also considered property. The title "man" wasn't used to mean all human beings. "Men" only applied to white Christians males of European descent.
Or did they really mean "human beings" but realized that the culture of that day couldn't evolve that much that soon. But those men who wrote that document knew society would continue on the path of enlightenment.
I'm very fond of some Hindu scripture that basically declares that there is no ONE way to God. "People follow different paths, straight or crooked, according to their temperament, depending on which they consider best, or most appropriate—and all reach You {God}, just as rivers reach the ocean."
This is something I not only believe but have taught my children.
What truly fascinates me lately... India is where Hinduism was born. But so was the caste system. I'd like some day to understand how that was possible that both of these cultural and religious beliefs were practiced.
I wonder if its like our founding fathers... they wrote "all men were created equal" yet owned slaves. Women were also considered property. The title "man" wasn't used to mean all human beings. "Men" only applied to white Christians males of European descent.
Or did they really mean "human beings" but realized that the culture of that day couldn't evolve that much that soon. But those men who wrote that document knew society would continue on the path of enlightenment.
Dying in Your Dreams
from 6/4/08
I've never even come close to dying in any dream I can remember. Have had my fair share of being chased by monsters but they never caught me.
Until this morning! In my dream, I was sitting in out door cafe downtown with a good friend. We were chatting about this and that. From where we sat, I could see far off in the distance something weird going on with clouds. I realized it was a "mushroom cloud" from a bomb dropping.
I realized we were under attack and my mind started to race... just then I heard a loud boom and it get so bright I couldn't see anything. It flashed in my mind, this is it, I am going to die here.
I felt my friend throw himself on top of me. It felt really hot then I started to get really cold... and I thought to myself, "I'm dying. Where are my kids? I didn't get to say goodbye" And I could feel myself "leaving" and was filled with such sadness.
Then like an alarm... my brain said: "This is a dream. WAKE UP!"
And there I was in my bed... with the dog laying next to me with a bit of concern in her eyes.
I've never even come close to dying in any dream I can remember. Have had my fair share of being chased by monsters but they never caught me.
Until this morning! In my dream, I was sitting in out door cafe downtown with a good friend. We were chatting about this and that. From where we sat, I could see far off in the distance something weird going on with clouds. I realized it was a "mushroom cloud" from a bomb dropping.
I realized we were under attack and my mind started to race... just then I heard a loud boom and it get so bright I couldn't see anything. It flashed in my mind, this is it, I am going to die here.
I felt my friend throw himself on top of me. It felt really hot then I started to get really cold... and I thought to myself, "I'm dying. Where are my kids? I didn't get to say goodbye" And I could feel myself "leaving" and was filled with such sadness.
Then like an alarm... my brain said: "This is a dream. WAKE UP!"
And there I was in my bed... with the dog laying next to me with a bit of concern in her eyes.
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