“It is a fool’s prerogative to utter truths that no one else will speak.”~ Neil Gaiman
“Antonin Artaud wrote on one of his drawings, “Never real and always true,” and that is how depression feels. You know that it is not real, that you are someone else, and yet you know that it is absolutely true.”~ Andrew Solomon
“I was very afraid at the beginning, until Master told me that pain isn’t the truth; it’s what you have to get through in order to find the truth.”~ Deepak Chopra
Skeptically I announce that it seems the weather may have turned. This is an announcement that you can get lulled into believing to be true. Nonetheless, I remain a skeptic, yet the attempts at lulling continue without pause. Hmmm, three days in a row off, now a workday. I, as usual, don’t want to go. I’m tired and achy and cranky and exhausted from camouflage clothing. Yes, I cop to feeling cynical this morning. But well rested. There is that. An encounter with a lovely lady friend last week gave me a chuckle and a smile . . . and an existential/philosophical jolt that hit home. I told her that the Winter has hit me the hardest so far in my life (at 68). She simply replied, “No it’s hasn’t”. Hmmm, indeed. It is always good to know that someone cares. At the moment I must run along and get ready for work. Mostly, seein’s how I have not blogged in ages, I wanted to do so, and hopefully get back into the swing of it. Let’s hope. Right?
“Censorship is telling a man he can’t have a steak just because a baby can’t chew it.” ~ Mark Twain
“Look, I get it. Loose stools are grosser than solid ones. But the censor is using the context of her own life history with all her hang-ups to answer the question, “Is there a defensible ratio of fiber to water in this stool?” ~ Sarah Silverman
“When the Washington Post telephoned me at home on Valentine’s Day 1989 to ask my opinion about the Ayatollah Khomeini’s fatwah, I felt at once that here was something that completely committed me. It was, if I can phrase it like this, a matter of everything I hated versus everything I loved. In the hate column: dictatorship, religion, stupidity, demagogy, censorship, bullying, and intimidation. In the love column: literature, irony, humor, the individual, and the defense of free expression. Plus, of course, friendship—though I like to think that my reaction would have been the same if I hadn’t known Salman at all. To re-state the premise of the argument again: the theocratic head of a foreign despotism offers money in his own name in order to suborn the murder of a civilian citizen of another country, for the offense of writing a work of fiction. No more root-and-branch challenge to the values of the Enlightenment (on the bicentennial of the fall of the Bastille) or to the First Amendment to the Constitution, could be imagined. President George H.W. Bush, when asked to comment, could only say grudgingly that, as far as he could see, no American interests were involved…” ~ Christopher Hitchens
Gotta start sometime? Right? Right, yer bloody well right. That’s me having caught myself avoiding writing a blog post by finding all sorts of things that look interesting on the web. The previous sentence is carefully worded, says the obscure lexicon pretender. This morning it is effectively about 0º outside, and I have to go to work. Scraping the car windows oughtta be fun. Sheesh. Do they even say “sheesh” anymore? I don’t know iffin I ever mentioned here that I abhor GIFs. The repetition gets to me near as much as Republican talking points do. Reading the news feels like watching a GIF of the Three Stooges, where Moe is beating the crap out of Curley – again and again and again – and I am Curley. No wonder my blood pressure is running high. Yeh, my PA upped my “baby dose” of meds to a toddler dose. And I get a free self-standing pressure cuff to keep track of the issue. And I get to visit with the woman who will monitor my progress. Simply talking to her on the phone was a delight. She sounds East Indian and as charming as you please. BTW, my new PA runs the clinic down in Embudo, which is down in the gorge on the way to Santa Fe. I hadn’t been down there in years before that visit last week. The grandeur on the scenery down there never gets old. No, wait. don’t get me started on the true nature of time. I don’t have the time for that, right new. I gotta get moving, to go sell hardware to the masses. See ya.
“It is a thing that knows no limit, and before it all men are equal; and the silence of king or slave, in presence of death, or grief, or love, reveals the same features, hides beneath its impenetrable mantle the self-same treasure. For this is the essential silence of our soul, our most inviolable sanctuary, and its secret can never be lost” ~ Maurice Maeterlinck
“People never seemed to notice that, by saving time, they were losing something else. No one cared to admit that life was becoming ever poorer, bleaker and more monotonous. The ones who felt this most keenly were the children, because no one had time for them any more. But time is life itself, and life resides in the human heart. And the more people saved, the less they had.” ~ Michael Ende
“Wishes cannot be summoned up or kept away at will. They come from deeper within us than good or bad intentions. And they spring up unannounced.” ~ Michael Ende
Top o’ the mornin’ to y’all. Sunday morning with a good snow just beginning to let loose. Today is a 92nd anniversary of my mom’s birth. The snow somehow seems fitting. Mom had, in the earlier years of her paintings, a penchant for oil paints and “dead trees” as my dad used to call them. Having spent the last seven months of her life at her side I know through feelings about her love for the transitory side of Nature, of which Winter scenery was the most magical transition of all. For her as well as for me. Says the guy who lived at subtropical sea-level for many many years, and now at 7000+ feet in the desert mountain region of Northern New Mexico. It gets friggin cold up in these parts. I was out and about for a short while, not an hour ago, and was nearly mesmerized by the plump flakes so gently falling. It will be a good day to let loose in a bigger way than usual. This does not necessarily entail any notable change in the activities (or not) during the day. A misty snowy day is a large-scale magical event. Make the best of it. That’s what I say. The Ancestors walk nearby on such a day as this. As do the gods and goddesses. Their presence is so acute that it seems unnatural to deign to actually ask for things, or to tell them all what is and what ain’t. Anyway . . . hopefully I will be able to get out to the store in a while, otherwise I will have to deal with the scant food available in the house at the moment. The prospects are looking good at this time. Iffin I do make it out I will partake in a little exploration of this happy-making storm. When the veil gets this thin there is very little difference between the Inner and Outer journey. That’s yer bigger way right there, my friends.
“I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.” ~ Sylvia Plath
“I would like to see anyone, prophet, king or God, convince a thousand cats to do the same thing at the same time.” ~ Neil Gaiman
“Let’s just say that if complete and utter chaos were lightning, then he’d be the sort to stand on a hilltop in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armor and shouting ‘All Gods are bastards.” ~ Terry Pratchett
At dawn, timid pastels embellish the basic gray of Winter’s clouds. Groovy, right? Yeh, buddy. I feel perky this morning only because I have to go do laundry in a bit. It’s a practical thing, and if I can muster a ‘chop wood, carry water’ state of mind, I will. Stranger things have happened. Honestly, my perspective these days is a mishmash of political news and the Addams Family. At times it seems they are not all that different. This I can live with. As I’ve said before – repeated ad nauseum, perhaps – I’m not much of a positive thinker. Sometimes you just have to lay back and learn to enjoy Chaos; or at least friggin come to terms with it. One thing I am willing to come to terms with is that aches and pains and existential dread are not denizens of Chaos; nor are they entropy. Says me. A rationalization on my part, perhaps, but one I will defend against . . . oh, never mind. Pop-psych is not on my menu today, nor is it on my radar. It just kinda sorta spews out once in a while. Just like philosophy. Say, can you get a Master’s degree in Pop-Psychology? If so, how long will it last before your studies run up against a brick wall? I like Tom Robbins’ idea that if you paint yourself into a corner, put suction cups on your hands and feet, then walk up the wall and across the ceiling.
“Not only do living things lessen the disorder in their environments; they are in themselves, their skeletons and their flesh, vesicles and membranes, shells and carapaces, leaves and blossoms, circulatory systems and metabolic pathways – miracles of pattern and structure. It sometimes seems as if curbing entropy is our quixotic purpose in the universe.” ~ James Gleick
“The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” ~ Lewis Carrol
“To suffer the penalty of too much haste, which is too little speed.” ~ Plato
“So you think that you’re a failure, do you? Well, you probably are. What’s wrong with that? In the first place, if you’ve any sense at all you must have learned by now that we pay just as dearly for our triumphs as we do for our defeats. Go ahead and fail. But fail with wit, fail with grace, fail with style. A mediocre failure is as insufferable as a mediocre success. Embrace failure! Seek it out. Learn to love it. That may be the only way any of us will ever be free.” ~ Tom Robbins
Solstice has come and gone. Christmas as well. Tis a somewhat serene Monday morning, and I am mildly berating myself for letting this blog lie fallow for so long, too long, whatever. That part I cannot undo. I was simply in no hurry. Yet neither can I provide a meaty post to . . . oh, never mind. “World weary” is just losing traction, as time goes on, as a firm excuse for this neglect. As for the day, mostly an R & R day, as far as I know. Workday tomorrow. Calm cat is in her bed. The noise could spring forth at any moment, however. She has already notified me that she is indeed hungry. Perhaps she is giving me leeway this morning. Uh oh. Here she comes now, big purrs and likely a big plan to wrangle this human into compliance. There I go.
“The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.” ~ David Foster Wallace
“One night after dinner a group of us were talking about the supernatural, and one of our dinner guests said that when the electric light was invented, people began to lose the dimension of the supernatural. In the days before we could touch a switch and flood every section of the room with light, there were always shadows in the corner, shadows which moved with candlelight, with firelight; and these shadows were an outward and visible sign that things are not always what they seem; there are things which are not visible to the mortal human being; there are things beyond our ken.” ~ Madeleine L’Engle
“He moved like a dancer, which is not surprising; a horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.” ~ Mark Helprin
It was pointed out to me recently that humans are not designed to be in survival mode all the time. Hard to disagree with that one. I just stepped back from my usual perusal of morning news and things of historical significance. Things are getting pretty dicey out there in the world. Here in my world a 4D blanket of aches and pains has me pinned to the chair at the moment. No worries.
Top of the morning to you. May the road rise up to meet you. Yeh, I just spent over an hour shopping Irish Peaky hats on line. I want one. All hats aside, tis Monday. Thick gray clouds to the north, standard sky blue creeping in from the south. I want clouds all day, dag nab it. Looks to me, in reviewing the text here, that I am somewhat burdened with wants today. Trust me, there is no coveting going on. Whew. Friends know I am not a huge wanter. An old girlfriend once called me an aesthetic. My former massage therapist called me a minimalist, and she’s not the only one. Whatever. I mean, really? Maybe I am. The Goddess probably knows, and she ain’t talking, though there’s a bit of a giggle floating about today. Call it old guy stuff. I want that hat and I won’t stop ’til I get it. I mean, how minimal is that? All seriousness and silliness aside. It’s a day off. Cat asleep in her bed. Coffee good but not great. Nothing much needs done today. I’m running somewhat feral as it is. Mammals are supposta sleep in the Winter. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. At one point I was worried that it may be an artifact of a depressive phase. But no. Not that it matters. This boy is one who needs solitude a good part of the time. And sleep as of late. Ain’t no thang. Think I’ll binge a little on Netflix. They have a new spinoff from the Addams Family: “Wednesday”. It is thoroughly delightful, well written, and has good acting. The young woman they got to play Wednesday Addams (Jenna Ortega) is a treat! Well done, little sister. My relationship with the Addams Family goes way back beyond the 90s films and the 60s TV show. My dad had a coffee table book of Addams Family cartoons from the New Yorker Magazine. Talk about way back. Yeh buddy. Sigh. I am beginning to feel a little silly, so that disembodied giggling must be working. Lighten up. That’s what I say. Onward.
“Clawing my way out of the darkness, a jewel of light clenched in my jaw. I’ve been here before and likely will be again. And I remind myself: do the work, and don’t forget to play. Keep your heart’s eye out for the princess, and keep a troubadour’s song in your heart, just behind your eyes. It’s simple. And simple does not mean easy.” ~ Ken Ebert
“What I want is so simple I almost can’t say it: elementary kindness.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver
Have you ever noticed how easy it is to stir up a little outrage within your mind these days? 24/7, whenever you feel so inclined. Me, this morning I am more drawn to the massive “shotgun” volcanic eruption in the waters off of Tonga. The stats, the mathematical perspective of the event alone are breathtaking. And there’s the lake effect storm that dumped six feet of snow on Buffalo, New York. The NASA rocket that is carrying an empty crew capsule around the Moon right now. I said empty but I really must mention that they have crash test dummies aboard. Loaded with sensors, ready to rock and roll. Then, of course, there is Taylor Swift at the American Music Awards (of course, my dear, the invitation for a burger and a beer for lunch still holds. It always will). I don’t know, so I’m gonna mosey out to look at the mountains, and grab a few puffs. Bisy Backson.
The sharpness of weeks-old snow and teens at night casts a glare that I am not fond of. In fact, I feel annoyed that I even have to go out this morning. But I do and I will. I made a spontaneous choice last week to cash in some PTO hours and take tomorrow and Wednesday off from work. Turned out that Thursday is Thanksgiving so I ended up with six days off in a row. It is time now to rest, relax, recharge, reset, recapitulate. It is better to recapitulate than never. This is day three. First two were pretty rough in shaking off the effects of four straight days of being immersed in society and reality and stuff. I’ll live. My goal right now is to recenter, find my true self inner balance thingy. Ciao.
“It seemed a part of her life, to step from the ancient to the modern, back and forth. She felt rather sorry for those who knew only one and not the other. It was better, she thought, to be able to select from the whole menu”. ~ Orson Scott Card
“If diversity is a source of wonder, its opposite – the ubiquitous condensation to some blandly amorphous and singularly generic modern culture that takes for granted an impoverished environment – is a source of dismay. There is, indeed, a fire burning over the earth, taking with it plants and animals, cultures, languages, ancient skills and visionary wisdom. Quelling this flame, and re-inventing the poetry of diversity is perhaps the most important challenge of our times.” ~ Wade Davis
“Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.” ~ H. P. Lovecraft
One thing I have learned in this life is that even the dire straits of a historical-level pandemic won’t slow down this caffeine-soused world. Ouch. What a cynical little choice of words, right? Ain’t wrong though. Oh, wait, what? Ohhh . . . howdy stout hearts. Long time no see? S’up? Seems I may have been grieving the passing of my old Mac keyboard a tad too much. See, it had grown worn and recalcitrant, like me. So I got a new keyboard. Elegant thing, and it is backlit so I can use it in a dark room. Wow. Now I feel good writing again. Nah, I’ve also had that squirrel in the middle of the road vibe goin’ in regards to the level of malarky being flung about these days. BTW, is Marjorie Taylor-Green the antichrist? She’s starting to make all the other Karens look like Bernadette. Just sayin’. I was just out looking at the world of Nature, mountains, birds, and stuff. Red-tailed hawk hunting in the brown pasture across the road. Flicker proclaiming, snow is coming. Winter’s footprint is now down to about 8500′ on the mountains. Look, yesterday was the anniversary of my mom’s death. Yeh, I was right there; just she and I, and then she wasn’t. It’s not the wound it was at first. Ya just don’t want to suppress the pain of grieving. Let it blossom, let it grow. It will evolve to find a purpose, whether or not it actually ever does find a purpose. Mine has. But yesterday was also a healing day. Some micro intruder done played hell with my macro self. Had to leave work early on Friday, as the scourge armed the torpedoes and opened fire. My robust immune system leaned right back into the onslaught while I had to sit back and wait out the battle, burning up with inflammation, yet no fever to be found. Yes, I feel much better this morning. Actually went without coffee yesterday, copping out with a wave of self-pity at my plight, kept afloat through the kind buoyancy of Molten Melon cannabis flower, which was not a futile thing to do. Good, long nap. Some quality streaming and dreaming. You’re looking at a guy here who gets Spring Fever in the Fall, and then something like it come Springtime. The Trickster in me likes Autumn’s version better. Full Blood Moon on Tuesday, conjunct with Uranus, and a total eclipse ta bien. I’m dreaming big right now.
“The fundamentalists have taken the fun out of the mental.” ~ Ken Kesey
“The main thing to understand is that we are imprisoned in some kind of work of art.” ~ Terence McKenna
“The twentieth-century linguistic revolution,” says Boston University anthropologist Misia Landau, “is the recognition that language is not merely a device for communicating ideas about the world, but rather a tool for bringing the world into existence in the first place. Reality is not simply ‘experienced’ or ‘reflected’ in language, but instead is actually produced by language.” ~ Terence McKenna
Hail gone to rain. Wind at dawn perseveres. Heavy clouds meander about, seemingly mulling a decision as to whether to aggregate or not. After a brief pause of mere minutes the rain has returned, noisy on the roof. Then poof, and it is once again gone. If the forecast is correct to any degree its already about as warm as it is going to get today. A hopeful prescience of rain is in effect as well. Homeboy here is having visions of a crystal snifter of Remy Martin and a little Rodrigo guitar music in the background, augmenting the rain I hope so much will be real and steady for a while. As for me I am seriously considering a morning nap. This old body got downright stressed out at the tail-end of the workweek. Recovery and renewal is underway, and proceeding in a highly acceptable manner. It’ll be a nice day. The usual: cat, IPA, Netflix, heating pad, lap blanket. Hibernation instincts beckon cautiously. Here it is only days short of Samhain, and I am having an overwhelming cloud of feelings and images of me out in the Irish moors, cliffs and ocean nearby. Well-aged cottage, with peat moss, of course. Hearth and home. Maybe a woman companion; I don’t know. That is not a pressing issue these days. At the moment I am going to call it a wrap, then mosey on out to look at the mountains with their peaks in the clouds. Sweet.
“It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.” ~ Samuel Beckett
“After the keen still days of September, the October sun filled the world with mellow warmth…The maple tree in front of the doorstep burned like a gigantic red torch. The oaks along the roadway glowed yellow and bronze. The fields stretched like a carpet of jewels, emerald and topaz and garnet. Everywhere she walked the color shouted and sang around her…In October any wonderful unexpected thing might be possible.” ~ Elizabeth George Speare
“For London, Blampied claimed, was of all cities in the world the most autumnal —its mellow brickwork harmonizing with fallen leaves and October sunsets, just as the etched grays of November composed themselves with the light and shade of Portland stone. There was a charm, a deathless charm, about a city whose inhabitants went about muttering, “The nights are drawing in,” as if it were a spell to invoke the vast, sprawling creature-comfort of winter.” ~ James Hilton
It’s been a long weekend, in a good sort of way. I woke up yesterday morning with the distinct notion that it was Monday, thus time to take the trash bin out to the road for pick up. I soon snapped that it was indeed Sunday, but I left the bin where I’d put it. So today, on real Monday, I am tasked with laundry, the need for doing it having reached the tipping point. Lucky me. I’ll make a day of it for about two hours. That’s a long enough day for me. I’m rather still in Dreamtime with the Moon. Clunky sentence, I know. That’s why it is called practice and play. I spent the weekend listening to coyotes in the night, along with Hecate, who seemed to be meandering in the neighborhood by the light of the Hunter’s Moon. Hecate will be a good companion for me in the coming days. Brujas are afoot in the land, or at least in my neck of the woods. Hecate and Cougar – yeah, I’m all good. My world, as perceived by yours truly, has been fairly teeming and brimming with Magic these days. I’m okay with that and doing laundry at the same time. It’s been done before and it needs to be done again. Onward.
Eyeyotee 