29 April 2010
28 April 2010
23 April 2010
dark matter
I reach and reach
For the suddenly gone.
The closely disappeared.
The secret arrival,
And hidden quiet,
You will never know.
From one universe to another,
We bridge the galaxies.
A sun explodes.
A star is born.
Of what import to us?
We are all dark matter anyway.
For the suddenly gone.
The closely disappeared.
The secret arrival,
And hidden quiet,
You will never know.
From one universe to another,
We bridge the galaxies.
A sun explodes.
A star is born.
Of what import to us?
We are all dark matter anyway.
05 April 2010
busy
I stay busy.
Sometimes that is the answer, and sometimes it is the question.
My busyness passes the time, with actions which seem necessary and important, but which are neither necessary nor important.
Time Passes. Busy Happens. I barely have time to reflect upon the closing of a day, when another begins.
When I was young, Time was in a box, a detailed box with gold leaf, holding promise and the unknowable, sitting closed upon my dressing table, patiently waiting.
Now, it is a beautiful bird soaring above me at speeds I can’t approach or understand.
When I was young, Time was an idea. As I age, Time has become real, tangible, and touchable.
It never leaves me. It waits for me while I sleep, watches me through my day, tucks me into bed each night.
As I ride the bird, I can see behind me, and sometimes I catch glimpses of the up-ahead.
I know how this will ultimately turn out. There is no turning back.
Until that time, there is only Awake. Busy, Open, Awake.
Sometimes that is the answer, and sometimes it is the question.
My busyness passes the time, with actions which seem necessary and important, but which are neither necessary nor important.
Time Passes. Busy Happens. I barely have time to reflect upon the closing of a day, when another begins.
When I was young, Time was in a box, a detailed box with gold leaf, holding promise and the unknowable, sitting closed upon my dressing table, patiently waiting.
Now, it is a beautiful bird soaring above me at speeds I can’t approach or understand.
When I was young, Time was an idea. As I age, Time has become real, tangible, and touchable.
It never leaves me. It waits for me while I sleep, watches me through my day, tucks me into bed each night.
As I ride the bird, I can see behind me, and sometimes I catch glimpses of the up-ahead.
I know how this will ultimately turn out. There is no turning back.
Until that time, there is only Awake. Busy, Open, Awake.
03 April 2010
27 March 2010
23 March 2010
13 March 2010
review: the lovely bones
About a month or so ago, I watched a movie that affected me deeply, daily. For nearly a month I was filled with a new awareness, new eyes. I was changed by what I saw.
The Lovely Bones opened my eyes to another facet of human behavior and experience I had never given much thought to. That is, though I am saddened and disheartened by the thought of murdered children, war, and the heartache of life, this movie placed me inside the heart and mind of a murdered adolescent female in a very personal way.
I saw the movie four times, so moved was I by the presentation. I had read the book, but the movie succeeded in a way that the book did not. For me, the book took off on tangents that distracted me from the only thing that really interested me, which were the thoughts and experiences of the main character.
The movie skipped all the distracting features of the book, and concentrated on the girl’s reaction to her experience, as well as the family’s reactions to losing a daughter in the bloom of her life.
There was one scene in particular that really opened my eyes to the loss of these young lives, and the secondary loss that occurs as they fade from our memories.
In this particular scene, all the victims of the movie’s serial killer appear in a field, a bountiful field of heaven, where they live forever together, nurturing and loving each other. Bonded by a terrible and pointless fate, they turn from earthly desire to each other, even as they know they will fade ever so quickly from our awareness.
At once I realized – yes, it was true - I had forgotten them. Until that moment I did not realize that I had never really thought about the victims of serial killers. True, they have been stories to me, faces on the news, but they have been sad, distant. Pictures of lost children on milk cartons.
But at that instant, I was struck with a knowledge and understanding I had never perceived before: first, they lose their lives, followed swiftly by another loss: they lose us. They fade from our collective memory, they fade from our view, as the earth turns, days follow days, and we move on.
It is a reminder to me to Be Aware of each precious person, even as we swim in a sea of predators in a dangerous world. I will never hear the news of a murdered child quite the same again. I have been sensitized.
The music that Peter Jackson, the director, chose for this scene made it all the more poignant: Song To The Siren, as performed by This Mortal Coil (Cocteau Twins). A beautiful rendition which, in my humble opinion, has never been surpassed. You can listen to it in the post beneath this one.
The Lovely Bones opened my eyes to another facet of human behavior and experience I had never given much thought to. That is, though I am saddened and disheartened by the thought of murdered children, war, and the heartache of life, this movie placed me inside the heart and mind of a murdered adolescent female in a very personal way.
I saw the movie four times, so moved was I by the presentation. I had read the book, but the movie succeeded in a way that the book did not. For me, the book took off on tangents that distracted me from the only thing that really interested me, which were the thoughts and experiences of the main character.
The movie skipped all the distracting features of the book, and concentrated on the girl’s reaction to her experience, as well as the family’s reactions to losing a daughter in the bloom of her life.
There was one scene in particular that really opened my eyes to the loss of these young lives, and the secondary loss that occurs as they fade from our memories.
In this particular scene, all the victims of the movie’s serial killer appear in a field, a bountiful field of heaven, where they live forever together, nurturing and loving each other. Bonded by a terrible and pointless fate, they turn from earthly desire to each other, even as they know they will fade ever so quickly from our awareness.
At once I realized – yes, it was true - I had forgotten them. Until that moment I did not realize that I had never really thought about the victims of serial killers. True, they have been stories to me, faces on the news, but they have been sad, distant. Pictures of lost children on milk cartons.
But at that instant, I was struck with a knowledge and understanding I had never perceived before: first, they lose their lives, followed swiftly by another loss: they lose us. They fade from our collective memory, they fade from our view, as the earth turns, days follow days, and we move on.
It is a reminder to me to Be Aware of each precious person, even as we swim in a sea of predators in a dangerous world. I will never hear the news of a murdered child quite the same again. I have been sensitized.
The music that Peter Jackson, the director, chose for this scene made it all the more poignant: Song To The Siren, as performed by This Mortal Coil (Cocteau Twins). A beautiful rendition which, in my humble opinion, has never been surpassed. You can listen to it in the post beneath this one.
11 March 2010
15 February 2010
learning curve
Although it may seem that I am neglecting my little blog, in actual fact I have been quite active. I am in the process of doing research, with the ultimate goal of a new and improved blog. I have discovered that, as often as not, life gets in the way, but I am heads and shoulders deep in researching blogs, videos, and digital photo storage and manipulation. For this reason, my online presence has diminished.
I am not satisfied with the limitations of my current Blog host, but perhaps I need to learn to code. I was hoping for a more simplified approach, so that I could concentrate on the message, not the media. But apparently I will either have to change hosts or take some tutorials for this one.
Among other things, I would like to be able to see the comments that readers have posted, and I would like to be able to receive emails without giving up any more privacy than I have already, but I haven't been able to figure out how to turn those things "on" (at least, not to my satisfaction).
I've also been having formatting issues, which are the result of "improvements" by the host, but which I can't seem to figure out. Very frustrating.
I think of myself as fairly proficient in computers and related technology, for an amateur anyway, so perhaps I just need to grit my teeth and dig my heels in and go for it.
If anybody has any suggestions, I am open to suggestions, ideas, tutoring, etc.
In the meantime, I will let you know how it goes as I go through this process. Perhaps this is my Next Assignment.
Peace.
I am not satisfied with the limitations of my current Blog host, but perhaps I need to learn to code. I was hoping for a more simplified approach, so that I could concentrate on the message, not the media. But apparently I will either have to change hosts or take some tutorials for this one.
Among other things, I would like to be able to see the comments that readers have posted, and I would like to be able to receive emails without giving up any more privacy than I have already, but I haven't been able to figure out how to turn those things "on" (at least, not to my satisfaction).
I've also been having formatting issues, which are the result of "improvements" by the host, but which I can't seem to figure out. Very frustrating.
I think of myself as fairly proficient in computers and related technology, for an amateur anyway, so perhaps I just need to grit my teeth and dig my heels in and go for it.
If anybody has any suggestions, I am open to suggestions, ideas, tutoring, etc.
In the meantime, I will let you know how it goes as I go through this process. Perhaps this is my Next Assignment.
Peace.
10 February 2010
06 February 2010
24 January 2010
22 January 2010
18 January 2010
15 January 2010
10 January 2010
quote: e.b. white
If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy; if the world were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I wake up each morning torn between a desire to save the world and a desire to savor the world. This makes it very hard to plan the day.
09 January 2010
tabula rasa
The phrase "tabula rasa" means "blank slate" in Latin. While I don't believe that a totally blank slate is possible in a human being - even a baby is born with inherent and inherited tendencies, talents and instinct - I do believe that it is possible to Begin Anew, whether literally, physically, and/or mentally/emotionally.
I was born, and still live, within the walls of the current empire. As a student of history, I realize both the advantages as well as the cost of this fact. Were I to be a citizen of another country, I might not have the blessing of being able to talk about "new beginnings". I might only be able to speak of survival, and struggle, or perhaps I wouldn't be able to speak at all.
But, here I am. Freely speaking for such a time as I am able: observing, living, sensing, feeling, remembering. Living.
Tablua Rasa. And so I Begin Again.
I was born, and still live, within the walls of the current empire. As a student of history, I realize both the advantages as well as the cost of this fact. Were I to be a citizen of another country, I might not have the blessing of being able to talk about "new beginnings". I might only be able to speak of survival, and struggle, or perhaps I wouldn't be able to speak at all.
But, here I am. Freely speaking for such a time as I am able: observing, living, sensing, feeling, remembering. Living.
Tablua Rasa. And so I Begin Again.
03 January 2010
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