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.
Focusing on the trees, or even the leaves, because the forest is too overwhelming.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
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.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, August 6, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
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)
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
icebergs
Lately, I am thinking about icebergs. I love the idea of something floating along on the surface as a warning signal but beneath the ocean is the real bulk, the unknown enormity of it. So much of my behavior and thoughts are like that, what seemingly is simple...Oh I don't know if I want to fall in love... beneath it: a weight, a mass of issues and problems and feelings that the iceberg of the original thought barely even hint at existing.

So I am beginning some drawings of icebergs, I really like the square looking ones. And I think I'll start with some drawings then maybe do some paintings of icebergs. It all reminds me of the hanging things I was drawing last year. I'll have to dig up some photos of those.
So I am beginning some drawings of icebergs, I really like the square looking ones. And I think I'll start with some drawings then maybe do some paintings of icebergs. It all reminds me of the hanging things I was drawing last year. I'll have to dig up some photos of those.
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