March 30, 2006
The Stairway to heaven is an optical illusion
Lately, I have been having trouble paying attention to anyone other than myself. While, for some, this might seem like a disaster, I am taking it as a sign that I have finally developed some inner guidance at this late date. I am only telling you this as as prelude to the fact that I'm going to a conference this weekend, and may not post. However, in the interest of intermittent reinforcement, I may. I'm lugging the laptop in hopes of connection.
This is a bit of an impulse, but I am desperate for continuing education credits, and it's close by. Will I be studying something practical, like self destructive behaviors, improving marital communication after thirty five years of unbearable tension, or lesbian bed death? No, of course not.
Gregg Braden is presenting "The Divine Matrix: Awakening the Power fo Spiritual Technology". I shall be sitting in a hotel conference room all day on what promises to be the first beautiful weekend of spring, learning something. It's the best I can hope for, other than a mystical experience, which I shan't count on.
In addition, Jonathan Goldman is following up with a morning of sound healing. I personally am very fond of toning, and do it alot in the car. I'd tone in the shower too, but I dare not, since there are those nearby who already think I'm odd.
Really, it could be worse. John of God is doing a seminar for 5000 in Atlanta this weekend - but I hear it's sold out, and he doesn't give CEUs anyway.
Photo note: I THINK I have captured an optical illusion, but it may be my astigmatism.
March 29, 2006
Underwater
A pretty picture for not such a pretty picture.
Although this clickie is a bit of a techno nightmare (for me at least), let me introduce you to a map that allows you to see what would happen to your real estate, home town, or personal monument should the sea level rise significantly. Select your home continent along the bottom of the map -- (the menu in thin blue) . Use the white centipede on the upper left to zoom into a specific area, and then adjust the sea level in the box, just above the map, in the upper left. ( in meters). You will see what will be under water, when.
This isn't so far fetched. Glaciers are disappearing. Ice sheets in Greenland and Antarctica are melting more rapidly than expected. If a big chunk of the polar ice cap breaks off and drops into the ocean, like a block of frozen peas plopped in a pot full of water, the oceans will overflow suddenly, perhaps by 6 to 10 feet.
You can skip this whole entry, and just admire the lotus if you're trying to avoid bad news because you are helpless to change anything except to start in little ways, like riding your bike, recycling and buying organic. And look on the bright side --many of you will be able to grow lotus blossoms right in your very ownbackyard. However, if you are purchasing real estate immerse yourself now, rather than later -- unless you're in it for a quick turnover, that is.
Photo note: Shot surreptitiously (as always) right under the nose of the florist at Whole Foods. If you are caught photographing on the premises, you get 40 lashes across the eyeballs with a wet,whole wheat soba noodle, so don't even try if you're any kind of amateur.
March 28, 2006
It's Spring! Why Don't I Photograph a Crocus?
view relationship in luminosity
view Vietnamese botanical painting
view heritage, longevity and fragility
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view openness and vulnerability
view the loneliness of the visionary
view the light in the darkness
view 91,000 crocuses photographed by people who all had the same idea.
Photo note: Got anymore good ideas, Dakota?
March 27, 2006
Bird, Nested in Triangles
Here's the latest bird flu summary from Revere, the esteemed, necessairily anonymous, epidemiologist over at Effect Measure.
AND there is the tiniest bit of good news which isn't included in Revere's update. Two studies have found that " the H5N1 virus prefers to settle in cells deep within the lungs, rather than in the upper respiratory tract, as happens with human flu strains.
That's important because 'most of the coughing and sneezing that transmits flu is going to be from the upper respiratory tract, and not way down in the lower respiratory tract,'explained Dr. Arnold S. Monto, a professor of epidemiology at the University of Michigan School of Public Health. 'So, unless you have relatively close contact, you're not going to have much [bird flu] virus get out.' "
I. personally, am chosing to be heartened by this news. It is spring, after all.
Photo note: All of us here at Dakota do so love a triangle.
Immobilzation and Fuzzy Lilies
Woo Woo Self: Oh my dear! WHAT are you doing indoors on a beautiful day like today. Why, you should be out on your bicycle gathering pictures of nature, feeding your soul, breathing deeply of spring. You will have your entire old age to blog, or clean up your messes.
Servant Self: I'm just serving my customers, ma'm.
Manager: Guess what, stupid, this IS your old age, and you DON'T have alot of time to clean up your messes, and, upon occasion, you make even more.
Introjected Perfectionistic Mother Self: I don't think this is such a great photo. Spend a few more minutes looking for something perfect, then upload the whole thing again -- take the time to do it right, once in awhile.
Firefighter: Get me outta here! Who the hell cares about your reputation, your readers, everyone who counts on you -- go fast on the bike and get a thrill. .... Naw, go read the rest of The DaVinci Code in bed.
Assertive but Humble Peon with Low Self Esteem: You have no audience, no one counts on you, anyway. Don't be such an egotist, It's embarassing, and most unattractive. Hubris hubris
Higher Self: No wonder you have difficulty with unstructured time. Your internal dialog suggests that you have a bit of work to do, my dear. We ALL have a bit of work to do. Some of us are starting wars with their unresolved issues, killing tens of thousands, destroying art, ancient bonds, intrastructures, futures, bodies and spirits. In the scheme of things you're small potatoes, so get over it. This is plenty for heaven's sake. Skip the clickies, Go take that ride now.
Photo note: Shot this winter on a rug pile at Marshalls. Faux nature, as twere. Representative of being inside with phoney flowers, rather than outside, with the real ones. I'm off
March 26, 2006
Cleaning Up
My dear college roommate came to visit, and, in her mercy, helped me begin to deep clean and divest. In about seven hours, we purged the butler's pantry -- the tiniest space in the house. She suffers terribly from dust and mold allergies, so this was no mean sacrifice. I'm on a roll though.....maybe.
You never know what you have until you look. Turns out that there were two cases of wine, three open bottles of saki (?!?), NINE bottles of champagne (two Mumm's, countered by a Korbel) and six Asti Spumontis (which is certainly not a favorite). Since I can't remember purchasing a bottle of bubbly since the turn of the century, I am assuming they are all well aged, and that most were gifts.
When I get this project finished -- at least floor Number One (only 2000 square feet to go!) I shall have to throw a party. Maybe the kind of party in which every person who attends will take something of their choice home with them from a well-organized display in the garage. I do hope someone will chose that elephantine Steenbeck film editor. Dream on, my dear.
Simultaneously, the hard drive in my laptop topped out, so I have been inspired to clean virtual house too-- eliminating the many overexposed, discomposed and hideous photos I have taken in my day. In honor of this particular purge, I purchased a spanking new 300 GB external hard drive, so I can back up everything I don't squash in my recycle bin ( I adore that satisfyng crunch noise). I was going to start the back up this morning, but, and you will appreciate this, I can't get the damn box open, that is, without demolishing it with a carving knife, which, for some reason, I am reluctant to do. When the hour is decent, I shall call for mechanical assistance.
This is my new expressive endeavor -- the creation of space. I will need all the support I can get.
Photo note: Isn't this a great step stool? The steps flip up for easy storage, and extra seating, and down for reaching cobwebs in the egg and dart molding, and chandeliers. The patina of age is upon it. Ninteen thirties kitchen green, dusted with rust and white mist. Perfect for cleaning. At the price of one dollar, I simply could not pass it up. You can see how I contribute to my current dilemma.
March 25, 2006
A visit to Mt. Auburn
Last Friday was one of those late-winter-clear-light-with-black-trunks-days that thrill the enthusiatic amateur photographer. My unintegrated aspects were stirring once again. In order to distract them, (god forbid that I deal with them directly), I set off for the cemetery, where blackness of trees and depth of shadow are guaranteed.
Somewhere along the way I was most attracted to the gravestone of Baby Wigglesworth, dead at 1 year, shaped like a woven infant basket -- perhaps because I want so much to bury my own Inconsolable Baby.
The life-sized piece is tucked among a number of small, elaborately decorated white markers. Really, the art of gravestone carving has suffered terribly. All these slick pink polished granite things, cannot hold a candle to the charms of their Victorian counterparts. Kousa Dogwood, carved roses, oak leavesand ivy, nasturtium abound.
This lead me to consider my own gravestone preferences. As usual, cuteness counts for me in the biggest way. In fact, it will be my greatest consideration in gravestone selection. Should I even be buried-- or cremated, and tossed to sea, dusty tooth and nails? Urned and placed on a mantle somewhere?
I know, I'll be cremated and each of my friends can take a scoop of me and put it under one of the many adorable stones at Mt. Auburn, thereby giving me the pleasure of having a plethora of aesthetically pleasing markers (who needs your own name up there anyway, when there are lavishly carved vines?) It will save my heirs a pretty penny, since real estate at Mt. Auburn runs as high as Manhattan's, and I always love a bargain.
What do I care, anyway? I shall either be dust, or looking down, preparing for yet another semester here at Earth School, only to learn the lessons again. I doubt I shall make it to heavenly guide status this trip, since I am so unwilling to take the earthly risks of saying "no", and have so many unintegrated aspects of self still flopping around at this late date.
Since the only vibration you can control is your own, for the time being I shall place the Inconsolable Baby under the Wigglesworth basket at Mt. Auburn, among all the carved flowers she so loves, and try to get on with my development.
larger kousa dogwood larger nasturtium larger roses
larger oak and ivy larger bluebells larger grape and wheat
Photo note: A veritable sampler
March 23, 2006
Through the Cracks
I selected this picture last night as a celebration of the first sign of spring. So much for that.
This morning the headline read Bush Shuns Patriot Act Requirement and I quote because, in two hours, the damn Boston Globe will lock it in the safe and ban you from seeing it.
"When President Bush signed the reauthorization of the USA Patriot Act this month, he included an addendum saying that he did not feel obliged to obey requirements that he inform Congress about how the FBI was using the act's expanded police powers.
The bill contained several oversight provisions intended to make sure the FBI did not abuse the special terrorism-related powers to search homes and secretly seize papers. The provisions require Justice Department officials to keep closer track of how often the FBI uses the new powers and in what type of situations. Under the law, the administration would have to provide the information to Congress by certain dates.
Bush signed the bill with fanfare at a White House ceremony March 9, calling it ''a piece of legislation that's vital to win the war on terror and to protect the American people.' But after the reporters and guests had left, the White House quietly issued a 'signing statement,' an official document in which a president lays out his interpretation of a new law.
In the statement, Bush said that he did not consider himself bound to tell Congress how the Patriot Act powers were being used and that, despite the law's requirements, he could withhold the information if he decided that disclosure would ''impair foreign relations, national security, the deliberative process of the executive, or the performance of the executive's constitutional duties."
Bush wrote: 'The executive branch shall construe the provisions . . . that call for furnishing information to entities outside the executive branch . . . in a manner consistent with the president's constitutional authority to supervise the unitary executive branch and to withhold information . . . '
The statement represented the latest in a string of high-profile instances in which Bush has cited his constitutional authority to bypass a law."
That was when I knew I had a metaphorphoto.
To enhance the theme of popping up through the cracks, was yesterday's Fox News Rovian slip, "It's probably too late, we're already at war with Iran". Sadly, it's one thing on Fox that's probably the truth.
W's certainly been out there like a real trooper, glorifying the war in Iraq like a used car saleman, and pumping up the masses for yet another invasion. Ever the down home optimist, W. cannot be stopped by the mere fact that we have no money left in the treasury, and no troops left to create another hideous mess.
Actually, he really doesn't need folks to get behind him at all anymore, since he has arranged to have so much executive power, he can do anything he damn well pleases. With his two year old mentality, he can poop in any corner he likes, with full confidence that the next president will clean up his mess.
So on to the next. Like that two year old, W. doesn't recognize that sometimes there are messes that are so large they can never be straightened out. Oh, well
Down Maureen, down!.
Photo note: Happy spring!
Beetle on Beetle
When there are blown out cirrus clouds
reflected on the windshield of
a black volkswagen beetle
in the cemetery with an orange daisy
in the vase on the dashboard
your eye is not immediately drawn
to the ladybug at the tip of a reflected branch
you might not even know you captured
a cross cultural symbol of good luck on camera
until you concentrated harder than you usually do
Photo note: Expressed poetically above.
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March 22, 2006
Stuck In Traffic Series - #2 and #3
at first
the angled
auto shadows
all lined up
drew my eye
and then
a left
head turn
revealed
an icon
Mermaid Mary
blindfolded
blessing
my commute
Photo note: see above -- that deflated blue plastic is showing up alot.
#1 in the series
March 20, 2006
The Uncemetery
View larger image if you can stand it
Noooo, this was not shot on location in South Dakota. I'm not crazy, (in that particular way, at least) it's only March for heaven's sake.
Nor did I shoot this marker while wandering the grounds of Mt. Auburn Cemetery. Any self respecting patrician buried there would spin on his respective rotisserie if something like this were placed on the premises, where even the American flag is eschewed.
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Rather, this abomination is but a stone's throw from the famous Minuteman Statue - right smack out front, on the lawn of the local K of C--- not the chicken kind, or maybe it is the chicken kind.
It was proposed, by a member of my viewing party, that used condoms be buried underneath.
A tombstone like this represents a substantial investment on the part of the sponsor(s) ( $800 to $1000 I'd guess). Maybe the Knights ordered them in quantity and there is one on the lawn of every chapter. In my opinion, the money would have been better spent educating children about the dangers of sexual abuse by Catholic clergy.
Photo note: Taken in the dead of night with flash. Maybe that white thing in front IS a used condom. Let's pretend. Otherwise, I'd have to find one and set it up, and there's only so far I'm prepared to go for my readers.
Same Damn Bush
for the record
same damn
crooked bush
one day later
up against a
brick wall
this time
Photo note: I never saw this bush before, I swear, and then two in two days in different places. This shot has triangles, always a good sign in my book.
Twisted Bush
This isn't a pretty picture
it is a twisted bush
in the dead of winter
against a backdrop of
yellow weeping
trees
need I say more?
Photo note: A botanical mystery, brought to you by the staff of the Mt. Auburn Cemetery, where I've been hanging out lately -- not to worry. Sorry, no time for clickies -- you'll have to read Huffington Post yourself.
March 19, 2006
This morning's ego
View larger image but it's certainly not necessary
The universe just taught me a lesson. When I hit my web server statistics this morning, they reported that over 9000 people (and other computer literate beings) came to my party yesterday. I usually have about six or seven hundred visitors, most of whom average .83 of a minute in my cyber kitchen.
Well, my ego blew up like a balloon, a black weather balloon to be specific, and I got to see myself , and feel how I would change if I felt anyone was watching what I'm doing , really, -- including myself. Who knew? It's mighty embarassing -- but all of us here at Dakota Feinstein are in the business of examining some of the less appealing aspects of self, so that they can be integrated, and will not pop out, uncontained, to wreck havoc. (see Spiritual Path of George W. Bush, thus far)
So I discovered that I really did covet influence. Then I thought about things I would do differently if I had any. I would cultivate dignity. I would have to watch my mouth, and my spiritual direction, a little more carefully. I would try to stay attuned to truth and beauty, but be lighthearted in the face of truthiness -- inspired by the Archangels of such
I thought, maybe I'll just post pictures -- screw the words. A friend saw my screensaver the other day, which shows ten minutes of my (there's the ego), of images that have been shown to me. She had to turn them off, sensitive soul that she is. She said that they made her mind expand, because she so often has difficulty identifying what she's looking at, and there was only so much she could stand without getting Stendhal's Syndrome.
Then I thought of the true meaning of twenty first century art (my host in this dimension) -- the use of technology to create something that expands experience. And then I thought, goodness gracious, I must be doing something important.
Of course I would lose a few pounds before I began to do public appearances (perceived threatof sorts, coupled with high excitment --as in the mother of the bride before the wedding if that's the sort of thing that turns you on-- a grand motivator). I would, however, be able to be interviewed by Terry Gross right away. Oh, I forgot, I have that anonymity thing going.
As I was writing this, I opened two hundred windows instead of using tabs, and lost my first statistics report somewhere in the pile. When opened yet another window and clicked on my statistics again, I found that it was just the usual slow Saturday, 517 visitors. So I came right back, down to earth, with a bit of an incentive to look and feel my best. My body actually felt very different in a fame bubble. I can see that it's addictive -- and I only had it for five minutes. Just as well
Photo note: No need for a larger version of this photograph. (oh, okay) The art isn't mine, but it never is. Perhaps I will go back and buy the shirt to wear to my upcoming public appearances --maybe it comes in a lapel pin format.
March 18, 2006
It's a complicated picture
Quick, someone send
this to Stephen Colbert.
Photo note: Just another stuck in traffic, white on white, light and shadow picture, no metaphor, no metamorphing here. Cuteness counts.
March 17, 2006
My Kind of Kitty
she's the only
kind of kitty
I can have
at my house
since
the third
dimension
makes me
sneeze
Photo note: Taken today outside my Ladies Group. All of us at Dakota think she matches the curtains extremely well.
Happy St. Patrick's Day
Happy St. Patrick's Day
from all of the aspects
of myself
including the astral
Photo note: Yet another metaphorophoto/metamorphophoto. The toy store had green cellophane glued over the window, thus the strange hue. This is the second time this week I have run into the stuffed something-or others. And what about the prickly thing with the siphon attached. In addition, my personage appears --a rare occurrence indeed, given my penchant for the reflection. Whatever could this mean?
March 16, 2006
Figure-Ground Issues
I tried to write a poem about the synchronicity of finding these silhouettes on a porch the very same morning someone forwarded the profile vases to me, but it just didn't flow. I shall have to lecture instead, I guess. (Aside: I just stopped writing to look at an issue of Cote Est, which I have to return and found a six page spread entitled "Papiers, Decoupes, Exquis, Precis, Suisses" - the Swiss art of cutting complex paper silhouettes -- that's #3. )
The figure ground phenomenon is about "human ability to separate elements based upon contrast". The figure-ground image is a dramatic metaphor for our ability and inablility to focus attention. It's really hard, with all that contrast, to see both the profile and the vase at one time.
Esther Hicks, channeling Abraham, says that "contrast" (meaning something unwanted) is important because allows us to understand more clearly what we DO want. For example, the malignant and erosive policies of our current administration have provided a much stronger desire, in my little heart, at least, to live in a real democracy.
I can't remember what else I had to say about attention, light and shadow, etc. and I have no time for contemplation, because I'm meeting friends at Gargoyles (isn't that appropriate) momentarily. Abruptly......
Photo note: See the Victorian house, with the carved pillar? See the little girl with the startled eyes and the bushy hair? See the woman planting a kiss on her head? Of course you do, just not all at once. This would be a beginning of a series, but these little buggers are too hard to find.
March 14, 2006
Charm of the Ordinary
I love photographs that capture the charm of the ordinary. Usually I have to be aligned to snag one. Yesterday, I was sitting in traffic, listening to my chick-lit-trashy-book-on-tape which has been making my commute sinfully scintillating all week, regreting that spring wasn't here so that I could take pictures through my windshield of the trees in bloom in the rain, like I did last year.
When I'm involuntarily waiting, I often give myself the assignment to find a good photo in the vicinity. So I turned off my windshield wipers and started shooting -- and I like what I shot.
Photo note: see above
March 13, 2006
Set in Stone?
In honor of my recent state of mind, and the valiant (if I do say so myself) attempt to change it, I offer two interesting studies from the annals of science, which, even I, can comprehend -- both of which could prove helpful in my endeavors. .
Dr. Elisabeth Gould (mother of three, and Queen of Neurogenesis) is studying marmosets at Princeton to learn how lilfe affects the brain
"To understand how neurogenesis—the process of creating new brain cells— works, Gould’s lab studies the effect of two separate variables: stress and enriched environments. Chronic stress, predictably enough, decreases neurogenesis. As Christian Mirescu, one of Gould’s post-docs, put it, “When a brain is worried, it’s just thinking about survival. It isn’t interested in investing in new cells for the future.”
On the other hand, enriched animal environments—enclosures that simulate the complexity of a natural habitat—lead to dramatic increases in both neurogenesis and the density of neuronal dendrites, the branches that connect one neuron to another. Complex surroundings create a complex brain."
and
"As millions will attest, Prozac does do something. Duman’s insight, which he began to test gradually, was that a range of antidepressants trigger a molecular pathway that has little, if anything, to do with serotonin. Instead, this chemical cascade leads to an increase in the production of a class of proteins known as trophic factors. Trophic factors make neurons grow. What water and sun do for trees, trophic factors do for brain cells. Depression was like an extended drought: It deprived neurons of the sustenance they need."
And then there's the issue of enhancing one's luck. It will take a bit of practice to become a lucky son-of-a-gun, but it seems like it can be done.
This morning, I'm doing my best to enrich my environment, and if I get lucky, I'll sprout a few more cerebral cells.
Photo note: Befitting my state of mind, I can't find any photos I like. I settled for a tombstone. You will notice that it is growing a little mold.
Birds Again - We Know What That Means
Have you noticed that I haven't been hounding you about bird flu lately, even though it has spread to 40 countries, and the UN is predicting that it's on it's way to the US. I have restrained myself because I just know that everyone has been working hard at preparing, should a pandemic occur.
H5N1 has been found in cats-- logically, since they often consume uncooked birds-- pet owners beware.
Some organizations are planning ahead. Restaurants are staying informed, at least about chicken safety. I doubt that they will be open at all if a pandemic arrives;
And lastly, the avian flu is worrying the corporatocracy. As usual, someone in the administration (other than Dick Cheney !) is making a bit of a profit on a catastrophe. Since it's only in the single digit millions, it's hardly worth mentioning.
Photo note: Okay, I admit it, I only wrote this because this photo popped into my camera the other day. The pigeons are perched below a billboard at the subway station. The large muscular torso is significant, because avian flu will be most lethal to the young and fit, if it mutates to human-to-human form. The real killer in H5N1 is the cytokine storm which occurs when a healthy immune system overreacts to the virus.
March 12, 2006
Primitive
Two little movies for your Sunday perusal-- Just got the first one on email too, so it must be making the rounds.
From Al-Jazeera: Dr. Wafa Sultan, a brave and articulate Syrian American psychiatrist, analyses Islamic/ Western differences as she debates Dr. Ibrahim Al-Khouli, an English professor. Of course, she is now receiving death threats, thus proving her point.
As Dr. Sultan speaks to the issues that currently hold the Islamic world back in the Middle Ages, one cannot help but note that Christian fundamentalism is having a rather similar effect in this country.
To furthere illustrate my point, here's a second clip , an ad from Vernon Robinson's campaign for Congress in North Carolina. He is a Republican.
Perhaps I am naive, but I don't think that anyone would have had the indecency to air an advertisement like this publically six years ago. We are surely succumbing to our most primitive impulses.
Photo note: Cypress knees are a rare sight around here. They do grow at Mt. Auburn Cemetery, cum bird refuge, cum botanical extravaganza, where I was shooting the dead yesterday. They looked like the toes of an ogre emerging from the earth, in my opinion. But I'm not from the South.
P.S. There was not one American flag to be seen on the grounds. Interesting, but also disappointing, since I have a personal collection.
March 10, 2006
Lost, Off the Path and In a Foul Humor
I'm in an inconsolable baby place on the most beautiful day since October. Waaaaa....aaaH, having awakened at four with stuck chi in my liver and spleen meridia, (the inside of my calves, for the uninitiated) anticipating the prospect of making the pain worse in a tai chi class at 8. My computer "failed" just as I was about to publish, my Friday check-in with Volatilda didn't happen, and now I have to wonder if I have a crisis of some sort on my hands.
And I DID go to tai chi, and the pain DID get worse, and I spent the hour choking back tears, and hating myself for not leaving (though I did signal my distress, and was rewarded with a bit of compensatory tui na.) At least Volatilda left a message that she was alive, though quite unhappy.
When I feel like this, I want to spoil and punish. Alas, the sweet Dakota I wish I were, goes directly down down the garbage disposal. And, again, here comes the shrew, the sadist, scanning for a victim, looking around for someone it will give me pleasure to hurt, to trick, to lure into a trap which will feed my abandonment tigers. Honestly, you do not want to go out to lunch with me on a day like today.
I know! I have been paying attention to all those hopelessly evil, satanic sorts in Washington and have, therefore, tasted of satan myself (a cross between buffalo chicken wings and ashes). Before I manifest more of what I don't want, I had better change my vibratory tune.
Start from where I am. I'm disappointed and frosted - at first these feelings are directed at myself. Then I find that it is so much more satisfying to take them out on someone else. Finally, I realize that I have the choice to sublimate. I can do something creative that will illuminate this less-than-attractive experience for others.
.
I shall write a bad poem
roses are red
violets are blue
what makes you think
I care about you
This is going to take awhile. Gee I hope it dissipates pretty soon.
Photo notes #1-3: Okay, it's the next morning and I'm still processing. I chose this photograph, since it best illustrates my mood, and where/who I am in relation to my path. It was shot in the parking lot of Pemberton Farms Market. Clearly someone had lost something very important. I hope they find it.
Photo notes #4-6: In the clickies are photos that I took while experiencing this mood, which I thought were somehow significant at the time. I find them aestheically weak, though message ridden. Notice that there is ice at the top of the pictures, thawing, sticks, as in stick it to someone, or yourself, and the eye (s), as in, try to watch your process rather than act it out, or, possibly the universe is watching, and then the triangles and all those shapes that would have been triangles had they had hypotenuses. And the clouds and the reflections and shadows, and the water and ice and clouds. Then there are the migratory birds and the turbulence. They're hardly pretty, but neither is any of this.
From My Perspective
Okay. Let's see what steamed me this (now yesterday, a girl has to work for a living, after all) morning.
1. The public outcry about US ports being turned over to a company in Dubai, has caused some Republican legislators to defy the President's wishes. There has been a public outcry. The legislators are actually hearing from their constituents. Where has "the public" been when they needed to be outcrying about something really important like preventing a fascist dictatorship? torture? the erosion of civil liberties? the supremest takeover of the supreme court? ---- Gambling? Watching reality TV ? Listening to hate radio? NOW they're writing letters ?!?--- They think the enemy is outside of the USof A. Silly girls. P.S. Looks like someone is backing down (a demonstration of democracy at work?). The Rover and the Dick had a much better idea. Turn the ports over to an, as yet unnamed, US owned company. There are those who are guessing that said company is known for effective management of other important projects like the rebuilding of the Iraqi intrastructure, and New Orleans. So what's a little cost overrun among friends . No need to open the bidding for the ports contract when we can go with a company we know and trust, unlike those Muslims in Dubai.
2. And then, right on the heels of the first act pf Republican defiance in five years (see above), George W. asked for a line item veto. Line items are all those little things that our fair legislators tuck in the corners of crucial bills, that really shouldn't be there, but do benefit the folks back home (not all of whom are developers). The Alaskan bridges to nowhere were probably line items. Put it together folks. A line item veto is the cattle prod that's needed to keep the disobedient running with the Republican herd. With the stroke of a Presidential Pen, when anyone strays, W. can make certain that discipline is meted out immediately -- no federal funds for the old home state, ever. Not that the tactic isn't used now, (ask Olympia and Chuck), it just takes so much more time, like that damn FISA court
3. The revelation that white college boys, as a prank, are responsible for the church burnings in Alabama. I am concerned that white boys have been given the message by this administration, their policies, and the media they support, that white men are superior, (In spite of Condi's public presence) --. the message that racism is just fine. Goodness, those boys may be sentenced to a FIVE years in prison. If you're black you can get that for possessing a little pot.
Why, oh why, do I write political entries when Maureen Dowd and Paul Krugman are out there -- in a much more timely fashion, I might add. Hubris?
Here, take a whack at it yourself faux news simulator
From now on it's bad poetry for me.
Photo note: Doesn't this picture make you feel short?
March 08, 2006
Oh God, The Flower Season Is Upon Us
Yesterday I noticed that the cyclamen that I had purchased for a friend who is in the hospital with a brand new knee, but was in too much pain to welcome a visitation, which was on my diningroom table next to the cyclamen that I had purchased for my dear mother-in-law for Valentine's Day, but took back into custody due to her pneumonia, was wilting. I filled my plastic measuring cup with no markings, in order to water both.
Somehow, during the process, a single cyclamen blossom, from my mother-in-law's Valentine, floated into the bottom of the measuring cup, and I found it on my kitchen counter this morning, because I hadn't put it away, of course.
In the meantime, forgetting that I had all those foster cyclamen, I picked up three bunches of the kind of daffodils that come from Holland dry and burst into full bloom when placed in water, for $1.49 apiece. The daffodils were next to the sink, smelling like perfect spring, childhood spring, spring in the woods, bursting yellow, as promised. As I passed my cyclamen filled plastic measuring cup without markings, thank goodness, over the daffodils, I saw a great shot. Or should I say, the Big Baby, who had wasted veritable gigabytes shooting all the diningroom table cyclamen in every kind of light, saw an opportunity to get a worthy flower shot posted.
This is the thin edge of the wedge, as the Mitfords would say. The Season for Flowers begins momentarily and the Big Baby, who has, for the most part, waited patiently all winter, satisfied only with Turkey Mums, insisted.
Photo note: I have already told you more than anyone would want to know.
Outside the Bubble
the shadow of
a telephone pole
bent gracefully
o'er a bubble
Photo note: Sometimes a pretty picture is just fraught with meaning, don't you think?
March 06, 2006
Speaking of Virgins
It's this
kind of thing
that makes me
consider
changing my name
to Wyoming
Photo note: Everyone's favorite virgin. If she knows what's good for her, she'll stop wearing such flashy clothes - she might attract a rapist who will ravage her, and it will be all her fault if she gets pregnant. Help!
Addendum: thinking ahead
March 05, 2006
Torture
There are those
who torture
and justify
There are those
who know
and do nothing
There are those
who chose
not to know
There are those
who know
and speak out
Photo note: I thought this was sufficiently ominous, although we can't see much behind that fence..
stairs, shadows, paper in green plastic
Metaphorophotographically speaking, this shot speaks to the diminishing relevance of the newspaper these days. Not only is it overshadowed, it's all wrapped up in green plastic. Plastic for ecologically unsound, toxic-- green plastic for hypocrisy. Reality is faded and peeling. The shadow, a virtual projection from another dimension (to stretch the metaphor wildly, if you don't mind) dominates. Notice that we have quite a few triangles, as well as a double triangle in the shadows at the top of the stairs, and you know what that means. (Actually, I'm hoping you do because I don't)
Photo note: Shadows have been absolutely spectacular in the past few days. Perhaps it's the late winter light. Perhaps its just another unfathomable message from the universe. Ya never know.
March 04, 2006
Less Green, More Shadow
A mystical photo
taken in May
transformed
completely
by the light
of the day
consider it
mystical
any old way
Photo note: Man, look at that segmented circle, the plethora of triangles -- if this isn't sacred geometry, I'm Maureen Dowd
March 03, 2006
The Emperor Tells All
You will be pleased to know that because I have an early appointment with the periodontist -- deep cleaning, being one of the pleasures of aging,--I have very little time to write something droll, but informative.
However, as is often the case, Elizabeth Vargas of ABC News has made my job (is that what this is????!?) easier with her up close and personal chat with W. , where he reveals to her the depth of his thought. It was conducted while strolling in the rose garden. I haven't seen the movie, though I'm sure the visuals are breathtaking. Actually maybe I have seen the movie. In any case, if we need any further evidence (after yesterday's Katrina alert videos) that our leader is completely vacuous, this is it.
An additional video for your further amusement, as well as a few animations from Scott Bateman, annotating for truth.
Photo note: Only half there, the orange too.
.
March 02, 2006
A Case of Bottled Water
In the NY Times Magazine weekly column "consumed", Rob Walker writes about Ethos Water, a bottled variety (on the The Earth Policy Insitute recently argued that producing the bottles to meet American demands consumes 1.5 million barrels of oil a year"
There is also speculation, spurned by some ("disinterested" parties), that the consumption of bottled water is leading to increased tooth decay in children.
The proliferating consumption of bottled water is yet another example of how we are swallowing the corporatocracy whole. Can you imagine what the profits are on a bottle of ordinary water that retails for more than a dollar. Purchased water has been sold to us -- a luxurious status symbol (like a Hummer, a McMansion) that now is generally thought to be preferable to that which is free.
I would go so far as to propose that this has led us to undervalue our generally wonderful, potable, safe, hot and cold running tap water, and contributed to the chilling trend of the privatization of water resources.
Bet the folks in Dubai know alot about water management.
May I suggest that you savor tap water, like the Parisians, and make generous donations directly in cash to water development projects in third world countries with the money you save on bottled water.
Oh god, just as I was about to push the publish button -- look what I found. They also say that bottled water isn't the answer. Maybe make that contribution to a clean water project right in your own backyard.
Photo note: This is my own delicious tap water, running into a bowl in my kitchen sink, with a bottle of water drowning in it. No metaphors here.
March 01, 2006
Do it yourself
A Do-It-Yourself Manual
ostensibly written
for the women
of South Dakota
print it out
we're all
gonna need it
sooner than
we thought
Photo note: I think a wire hanger would have been a better visual, but it's too dark to take a good picture of one now. This is actually a faux barber pole, made with a toilet paper roll and a plastic cup. A fine choice as sign for an amateur abortion business, don't you think, and easy to make by yourself, too.