Loss of Hope

                My mood has plummeted recently. In the wake of all the insanity of our false president's first half the year in office, inside of the utter chaos that is climate change and the general malaise of working with the public – I feel a deep sadness that I can't seem to shake.

                For the first time in my life I feel hopeless, I do not believe in a better future. In fact, I think that things are just going to get worse before they get better and I doubt their ability to get better at all. I think of the oligarchy, the 1%, the wealthiest people who have stolen all the wealth from everyone else, who have taken the abundance of the earth, who have raped the mountainsides for their own lined pockets, they are winning. They have invented war after war and the least informed of us, the least educated of us, have bought into these wars hook, line and sinker. Will continue to buy into the wars and die for nothing, for profit, for an imaginary idea of geography boundaries.

                This is a very strange feeling for me. I've never felt this despondent before, I've never felt that the future was bleak and hopeless and terrible and worse than today. Normally I can live in the Now. But the Now feels foolish, a wasted endeavor. Because there's nothing that I can do, I feel like there is nothing I can do. I see people that I respect and love taking action. I see them feeling just as hopeless and powerless as I feel, and taking actions which I know in my soul are futile and small. Actions that are truly a waste of energy. I feel the need to gather my energy in the battle that is to come. I don't know what form this battle will take, whether it's spiritual or physical but I know it's coming. My navelgazing and adoration of poetry will not stop it, will not calm it, will not even faze it. But alas I'm human and shall navelgaze on into my despondency. 

Dystopian Dreams

American entertainment oozes dystopian fantasies these days. Walking Dead is probably the most popular one of these. But what is it within these dystopian fantasies that we are all enamored with? Is it the simplicity of survival? Literal survival, not rat-race make more cheese than the next rat survival. Is it going back to a more animal nature? Is it all the killing?

These characters are more in tune with the Earth, they hunt their food (sometimes in abandoned grocery stores, sure) but the more successful, the more USEFUL members of a tribe can kill, trap, farm. I believe its an inherent call to go back to the earthways that we are longing for in these tv shows and comic books. The knowledge we all have inside of us of survival, to build our own shelter, to have close companionship that isn't just one special partner, to have a tribe, to contribute to the common good without expectation of the illusion of paper money, to honor our food with every harvest. At least, I hope it is.

Myself, the fascination with this genre started very young. In fact, after listening to THIS ted talk yesterday, I realized it started before my birth. My mother was in a surviv- or-die situation the entire time I was gestated and she passed necessary traits onto me. Hyper-vigilance. Exceptionally good smell and hearing. Traits that make it easier to survive in rough circumstances, so I've always felt a little off in the American society of excess and gluttony. I expected a different world, I was made for a different world. While I spent the majority of my childhood in that survive-or-die mode as soon as I was pushed out into the "regular world" everything grew uncomfortable for me.

As I seek a path closer to the red road, my hope grows that those dystopian fantasies seed within the collective mind and we find a way to live closer to the land before we kill/eat/consume every resource the Good Earth provides and we're left living in a barren Mad Max world.

Refocus

Nature is wabi-sabi and for me wabi-sabi is the most beautiful of all. From wiki:

Wabi-sabi (侘寂?) represents a comprehensive Japanese world view or aesthetic centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete".[2] It is a concept derived from the Buddhist teaching of the three marks of existence (三法印 sanbōin?), specifically impermanence (無常 mujō?), the other two being suffering (苦 ku?) andemptiness or absence of self-nature (空 kū?).

Characteristics of the wabi-sabi aesthetic include asymmetry, asperity (roughness or irregularity), simplicity, economy, austerity, modesty, intimacy, and appreciation of the ingenuous integrity of natural objects and processes

When I am falling in love with someone, I usually find their “imperfections” to be the most charming of all. My high school boyfriend had a wide gap in his front teeth and I found it amazing. I adored it. When I meet new people, I tend to look at them and the thing that society would call “off” or strange is often the thing that catches my eye.

In nature it is similar but everything is wabi-sabi so it is hard to choose. I can look at a group of mushrooms and each one has it's own wabi-sabi element but as a whole they can have this element in the context off all the things around them.

So I am changing the focus of this blog to the natural world which is art to me but is also in need of intent and focus. Lately, its all I can think about. I spent yesterday upset for hours over the state of the environment. I reached out to a close friend who told me to focus on the solutions not the enormity of the problem. We have gotten here so quickly, really only since the Industrial Revolution. So I am going to focus on the solutions and teach myself to teach other to see things the way I see them: beauty in imperfection and the innerconnectedness of everything. 

My house

There was a moment when I first moved in that this felt like forever
As I was scraping and painting this house back to life I thought that I would know peace
That the home I had never felt had finally become revealed to me.

Now I fear that home, he is talking about a place that is a forever place
A love that is a forever love and I feel that old fear creeping in
The distrust of my past choices lingering like an old sickness

I can’t help but remember the words that we spoke to one another
Not this we but the old one, the me and her one,
And though we always said the words hesitantly, laughingly like we didn’t believe them
Because you know…even though we were stupid we were wise

Here I am in the now and all that was said isn’t true
Perhaps it was true as it was spoken
we thought if we said it first we could find the time later for the believing

but his is belief first, he is audacity and ruin and truth, capricious and unmoored
he is a wild storm at sea and I am hoping for an anchor and dreading an anchor
and choking myself with the idea of a chain

what is time if not a chain?
Linear and unbroken but made of of tiny pieces called moments.
There was a moment when I first moved in that this felt like forever.

Waiting for the Answers

You say I’m irresistible
then you resist me
You say you’re in love
then you update your online dating profiles
You say we are meant to be
then you are pretending none of it ever happened
You say I don’t realize I need time alone,
Then you say…really you do.
What am I supposed to believe?
You never lied to me
But your truths are more confusing than a lie could ever be
You say you’re sure
Then we’ll see.
Your words are sand in my shoes
What am I supposed to believe?

You say you are going crazy with wanting me
Then you won’t make a plan for Wednesday
You say you don’t want to use me
But can I give you a haircut?
You say I smell like the first time…in the coffeeshop
Then won’t tell me what that means.
You look wonderful to me, edible even
But I used to put you down.
You make my breath catch in my throat, my face tingles with desire
But when I had you, I ran away.
What are you supposed to believe?

Why does the world change so drastically in one day?
How can I pray for something earnestly only to receive it too late?
Why is there a whole maze of pain to walk through
before love will show me the way?
Why do I have to make every mistake five times
Before the lesson is tattooed on my soul?

How come my soul isn’t louder?
Speak, Soul. Speak up. Stop whispering.
We are all waiting for the answers.

symbolism

Here is my desk. Imagine an iceberg. This mess you see on the surface is only the tip. Inside each closet, the basement, cabinets, drawers and my attic is the rest of the iceberg. I came back from vacation with a strange fire inside me to get rid of everything I own. But still I slept (unnecessarily) until 9am. So now I am going out to mow the lawn (its way overgrown). Another aspect of the iceberg.

This is my first iceberg I liked. I gave it away as a birthday present.

Here is the second one I made that I really liked. I gave it away as a "thanks for visiting me from far far away" present.

This is my favorite one so far. I always did love minimalism...in possessions and art. I am keeping it (unless it gets consumed by the strange fire and I have to get rid of it too) Dear Universe, I am ready to let go of everything. Every Thing. (willingness)