Remember the way that time cloaked you in glitter
and you spun through the night
recall the way that you soaked up the whiskey at the bar
high on heels
higher on reels
your watch clicks in time and your headphones hide
your eyes find
someone else, lost
fighting demons in the night
picking at hangnails in the soft light
you longed to move towards the richness of destruction and
the life of creation
we walked like we are going somewhere
wishing for a place to call home
I curled up into something that smelled like memories
without knowing where I would go
you drifted off
I see you sometimes on benches, smoking cigarettes, dressed in black
your hair falls over your eyes and you don’t see me.
I stare fixated, hoping you will remember,
all of the times that night held us
and all of the times that we were going to run,
you look at me
my face yours
yet you never saw me
everything has changed
*yeah, this is me posting cheesy poetry that very much is cheeseeeee but hey if we don’t make bad stuff we can never make good stuff*
Weekdays are extremely busy for me. I travel from Bellingham to Seattle, sleep in girlfriends bed, snack on breakfast in class, and lunch in front of my computer at work. I don’t get to just settle into my home and be comfortable. So during the weekend, my remedy for the madness of Mon-Fri, is to get comfortable in my kitchen. Admits loads of laundry, cleaning, and homework, I make one hell of a mess in just a few feet of space.
Even though this is the time for me to make a cup of tea, listen to classical, and turn up the oven-I don’t get too cozy. I make food that are “experiments.”
This weekend I made two very different types of bread. One was amazing and the other was weird.
This bread was amazing. Gluten free (paleo), pumpkin banana bread. I brought it to a harvest party and, though it looks like mud, it was gone quick and people loved it.
I ran out of eggs on this first batch of bread (I think our chickens are preoccupied doing other things besides laying their eggs on schedule with my baking needs) and thought I would do a vegan -gluten free bread. Ugh.
The recipe for almond banana bread seemed really exciting. You take chia seeds and let them plump up in water and add them to your bread. The reality, I had to mess with this recipe to try and get the right consistency and it still turned out crumbly and lack luster. The sadder reality, I still cut this bread into serving size pieces and put it in the freezer, thinking I might eat it at some point.
The lesson that I have learned from this is when all of the comments say. “this LOOKS amazing,” ” I can’t WAIT to make this.” Don’t trust it and don’t make it.
I will tell you a little secret. I like to spend a considerable amount of time shopping on-line. I love searching for the perfect color and finding the exact item I have been dreaming about. I get a kick out of pressing ‘add to cart’ and ‘continue shopping’ and then after I have found everything that I have been pining over or after I realize I have just wasted an hour (ahem two hours) of my life, I take a deep breath and I move my curser to the top right of the screen and I close my browser.
My co-workers has impeccable fashion and orders kick ass shoes on-line often. She has them delivered to work and I can’t help but glance over and think, damn I need to go that website. She reminds me of the lovely ladies of Advanced Style.
The fact that I haven’t blogged in awhile feels like christmas as a kid. It should be bigger and better than it is; the jello doesn’t set right, the meat is dry, and I end up hanging out with my all-boy cousins who want to play video games. Then at some point it is not longer what is but what it is to me, and christmas become magical again and I, humbly, post videos about old women and fashion.
This quarter just ended. Winter. Masters program. 2013. I haven’t written in awhile. I haven’t reflected on much lately. I haven’t had time. Rather, I haven’t made time. I just finished my last final of winter quarter and I took some time to reflect….
This quarter was very different than last. Some good. Some not. Here are some tidbits.
Yoga on Saturdays.
Meet at least four times with professors and advisors (A+ for effort)
Rode public transportation 3 times a week (currently on a train)
made at least 16 granny squares….but haven’t made them into a pillow, yet
I made friends!!
shared lots of kisses with my love
Found an obsession
Spring is coming and I would like to focus on a few things including…
Work on a project with K
Have dates with girlfriends: book clubs & craft nights
work, create (more) and share often
There has been quite a bit going on politically regarding women’s health and rights. I would like to tell you all about the jams I have made and the infused vodkas and all sorts of cute, easy and fun things. But there is so much that I want to write about and I will save all of the cute stuff for later, ok maybe I can make this kind of cute. Hella pics.
Here is what I think. As women we are brought up in a culture that thrives on our insecurity. It tells us that we aren’t good enough, pretty enough, smart enough. We read magazine articles and see images that craft what we should be. But we are too emotional, unstable, and crazy. We can’t do certain things because of our sex and we are only as worthy as our sex. It pins us against the world, but the deeper more sobering reality is that it pins us against each other. Competition and judgement aren’t part of our dispossession, they are symptoms of a society that makes women feel that they have to prove their worth. Women competing or judging other women is too often considered a norm in workplaces and in social situations. This is a result of a society that has pushed women down repeatedly and denied their true strengths. I really believe that genuine power and true beauty are a threat to societal social norms. If you make women feel like they are inferior and their worth can only come about through their obtaining the unobtainable they more easily manipulated and ego driven. Thus more easy to control. Validation through social acceptance creates a state of chaos and is at the root of how women are trained to define themselves. In my opinion the most direct attack on women is through other women. This isn’t the most powerful or pervasive but the most direct. We do this through the way we judge them, be-friend them, teach them, talk to them, raise them. And we do this through the ways in which we support them or choose not to.
The political attacks that have fallen upon women and families are an example of using women bodies as a tool. Their bodies can be manipulated and disputed, debated, discussed and ridiculed. They can be judged and demonized for what they are, or aren’t and all of this is through the eyes of someone else.
Often, I hear women say how these issues don’t affect them. Literally, it doesn’t affect them; like, “this isn’t my problem and I have enough problems, thank you very much.” And to that I want to say a million things, one of them is I understand that life is hard and that your life in particular might be very hard right now. But also the greatest movement, in my opinion, out of your own personal problems or struggles is to see yourself in a greater context. That is to see how you (little you) fits into this bigger world and the bigger (YOU).
I think this is our time to stand together as women and not let society define what that means for us.
Ok so really men have no business saying what is right for a woman. I am serious.
3. I use to be very fearful of getting involved in anything. I thought this isn’t my fight..” after spending time in Armenia and seeing dynamics of power differently, I feel differently. I understand that those who can use their power and influence to bring about freedom for others, should and must.
I use to also hate flawed institutions and government. Being informed wasn’t particularly interesting because the more I learned, the more I felt disconnected from a society that didn’t represent me. Many people feel that their government doesn’t represent them and many people don’t vote because they think that all of the candidates are all the same and don’t represent THEM. But I see how vastly different the candidates are and how close elections can be.
I use to think, what can one person do? There is SO MUCH wrong with society. As I became more informed, involved and curious, I saw the power in individuals. One person is more than one person, that person is part of a community, family and social structure. Their one voice hold with it the power of their collective shared values and their experiences. Their one voice has the ability to motivate and inspire others and in that choir of voices there is the power to shake up the foundation of society.
It is all of our roles and responsibility to do what we can with our time, actions and resources to make this world better, not worse.
Better: is expansive; it allows for greater opportunities, freedoms, and resources. It is fluid and doesn’t view the world as white or black but sees the complexity, and range, of human experiences. It meets people where they are, and yet invites them to more fully express everything that they already are. It isn’t about limitations or denial, or about what is right or wrong. It is acceptances of what is and growth through learning. Better is involvement and action and connection to those around you. Maybe this fight doesn’t affect you but if it did you would want your friends, community, and government to have your back and support you in whatever decision you thought was right for you at that time so maybe, just maybe, it affects us all.
I should stop myself, but I wont. Nietzsche is my most favorite thought right now. Today I was thinking how some of his ideas are very similar to Emerson’s. I just read a complete work of Emerson and Cornell West talks very highly of Emerson (he states that a women I respect, Gloria Steinem, embodies Emerson ideals as do many other “free” thinkers). I enjoyed pieces of Emerson’s work but I felt like he was very superficial, and lacked depth in knowing. His arguments didn’t seem to hold weight to me. The were more like words on a page that seemed very nice and good but lacked structural integrity. Also he just felt like an elitist wuss. He is like the rich kid whose moms bought him all of his clothes and lied them out on the bed for him. He said the right things and got good grades but he lacked understanding. He could tell you how to build a house but his hands lacked callouses and he had never actually built a home. That is what Emerson was to me.
This is exactly what I feel “Nietzsche expands, develops, and dramatizes insights that Emerson presents in an almost casual way” This is all about the two. Nietzsche, on the other hand, admired Emerson. I feel like Emerson is a friend that I say, “no I like her, she is great, but lets not invite her to the dinner party.”
my friend Nietzsche was talking shit about poetry today he says things like this
“Poets are shameless with their experiences: they exploit them.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
this is from an article titled: Why Do Poets Lie Too Much? Nietzsche, Poetry and the Different Voices of Zarathustra
They lie and their lies don’t have depth, they are superficial, shallow seas; neither their thoughts nor their feelings penetrate the depths. They are guided by boredom and lust, present shallowness as depth, pose as reconcilers, but they are, in fact, mixers, bring the unmixable together and create eclectic forms. They are poor in style and mix eclectically where the form and the content remain apart, where a variety of disparate elements is not creatively appropriated, which is the mixing of modern style, or lack of style.
Verily, their spirit itself is the peacock of peacocks, and a sea of vanity!
I thought this very interesting because well Zarathustra is a poet and as I think Nietzsche is too. But really Nietzsche is getting all pompous saying certain poets are shallow and trite while HE, isn’t. He is a poet of blood, experience and life.
Here is an interesting article Nietzsche, Philosophy, & Poetry who makes this argument ” Therefore, we cannot draw a distinction between the philosopher as a seeker after objective truths and a poet as a seeker after wholly ‘subjective’ and relativistic experiences.”
But I think that there are some distinctions that can be made between poetry and philosophy. I don’t think that there is much reason or rhyme (this is an joke to myself) in making the distinction. Perhaps poetry is an expression of what is known while philosophy is an expression of knowing and the unknown. Here is a debate on the topic.
But more so when I read poetry I look for similarities. I see pieces of myself in the work. I feel the depths of the emotion and the impact of the experience. Oscar Wilde spoke that the artist has a great responsibility to expand experiences to make them more vibrant that the actual event. In that the act of reading about it is a greater emotional sensation that actually being in it. To me, that is what poetry strives for. Philosophy on the other hand, I read differently, I read for similarity and consistency with my own mode of thought but I also read it to breach my own experience to bring me to a place of uncertainty.
Nietzsche is a bit inconsistent from what I am gathering and he also loved poetry. His “favorite poet” was Friedrich Hölderlin he was diagnosed with extreme hypochondria and later declared “mentally unfit.” Who wants a “mentally fit” poet?
Another day. I follow another path,
Enter the leafing woodland, visit the spring
Or the rocks where the roses bloom
Or search from a look-out, but nowhere
Love are you to be seen in the light of day
And down the wind go the words of our once so
Your beloved face has gone beyond my sight,
The music of your life is dying away
Beyond my hearing and all the songs
That worked a miracle of peace once on
My heart, where are they now? It was long ago,
So long and the youth I was has aged nor is
Even the earth that smiled at me then
The same. Farewell. Live with that word always.
For the soul goes from me to return to you
Day after day and my eyes shed tears that they
Cannot look over to where you are
And see you clearly ever again.