ungloom (y)our heart balloon with this chewy amalgam of semiotic bubblegum

November 5, 2012 4:15 pm

"I find no catharsis…This is not a psychological enterprise for me, it is a calling. And anyone who knows a calling, it is a terrible, terrible thing. Because it is something you did not choose…It’s not some vainglorious shit, it’s what it is. It’s pretty mundane, to have a calling. You gotta get up every day and fucking do bullshit. So whether it’s transcendent or it’s kind of this oh-woe-is-me crap, the end of it is it’s the daily grind. But certainly what I find is that I happen to be very good at something that I find incredibly difficult. And I think that there are plenty of artists out there, who are incredibly good at shit they find very difficult. And if you don’t have any compassion for yourself, because most of the artists that we have now are artists who are very good at something they find very easy. What we need are more of these artists who find what they do very difficult—because it’s the process of that compassion or forgiving yourself that is difficult that creates some of the most glorious art, you know? But you write very little. I’m super slow. So it’s more like the daily grind, and the constant reminder that it’s okay. I mean I wake up every day and it’s like it is okay, that at this thing which I am good at, I’m very terrible at. How do you deal with your fear, your blockages, the way you resist yourself, in the process of creating art, how do you deal with it?

I have one limited experience from one subjectivity, so I can not pretend that anything I say about this is in any way authoritative.You know when anyone talks about art, it’s simply a heuristic, something that you bounce off of and perhaps it can produce learning, perhaps it doesn’t. My sense of it has been from my own experience, again very very tiny, very particular. My sense of it has always been that what defines an artist’s success, is not their training and their persistence, both necessary.Training and persistence, both necessary. But what defines an artist’s success is usually their compassion. And compassion starts at home. Most of us hobble ourself in our art because we have such limited compassion and it’s no accident, we live in a society that teaches us no compassion. And so we have no compassion for ourselves. And therefore every time we try to do something, first we take a bat, smash ourselves in the face, and then say sing. Or write. Or dance. In fact, I always think, develop your compassion, and your art follows. And it’s a very difficult struggle. It’s a very difficult struggle; I think that a lot of the professionalization of arts wants to render this myth that training and persistence are enough but the truth of it is, a person who forgives themselves with no training, will outwrite the greatest writer on earth. To forgive yourself for your limitations, to forgive yourself for your fragility, to forgive yourself for your mistakes, I mean, we’re not taught that. I wasn’t taught that—I come from a military family. A military, Dominican, fucking family. My father was a full out, card-carrying member of the Trujilato. You know? No I’m like, to the left of super progressive, but my dad was a straight-up fascist. And that’s just the way it is, it happens. And there was no forgiveness in a military family, you know? For me, it’s the endless struggle, because it’s like alcoholism, you don’t suddenly become compassionate to yourself, you do it every day. There is no achieving it. There’s no achieving it, you just struggle every day. I still remember in my family, again, this was good for one day, and terrible for another way—in my family, we never had that American thing, you know that American thing where nobody’s to blame. You know, my students, I love my students to death, I really do, I love my students to death but I don’t speak the language of excuse. So I always have to sit there and be like, ‘Oh wait, they’re trying to tell me an excuse!’ Cause I don’t even know, I don’t even know what the fuck it is. I was like ‘Oh shit! This is an excuse, dude!’ ‘Cause in my family, there was none of that. If a bottle fell, the closest person next to it would be like ‘I did that, I am responsible for that.’ And that was it. Which is a fucking terrible way to grow up. Because sometimes shit happens and there’s nobody to blame. And sometimes, the first reaction shouldn’t be blame, it should be forgiveness. And I think whether you lived in a more explicit version of that Dominican culture like my father or a less explicit, most of us live in that regime, a regime of no-forgiveness.”

February 8, 2012 3:57 pm

Delocated. Deeelightful. Watch it from the beginning because all the episodes are golden.

September 24, 2011 1:59 pm August 15, 2011 12:44 pm

Entreaty

I do not need your red sculpted lips,
Nor hair in loops like a serpent’s coils
Nor a nape as graceful as a swan’s,
Nor narcissus eyes full of drunkenness,
Nor teeth as perfect as pearls of heaven,
Nor cheeks ruddy and full as pomegranates,
Nor a voice mellifluous as a sarinda,
Nor a figure as elegant as a poplar,
But show me just this one thing, my love,
I seek a heart stained like a poppy flower
Pearls by millions I would gladly cede,
For the sake of tears borne of love and grief.

Abdul Ghani Khan

thanks to this Brown Town post by Mansi Shah for my new favorite poet

April 8, 2011 2:23 pm
raaad
shawncreeden:

just found this merit badge embroidery i made for the willamette week finder two years ago. i still like it!

raaad

shawncreeden:

just found this merit badge embroidery i made for the willamette week finder two years ago. i still like it!

May 27, 2010 2:47 pm

lonely young man needs love, housing, and structure…. (asheville or anywhere)

found this in the volunteer section of craigslist


Date: 2010-05-21, 6:44PM EDT

Reply to: comm-bjava-1753014439@craigslist.org


This is from my heart to yours.

I have been struggling ever since my parents threw me out on the street to ” sink or swim” many, many years ago.

I NEED, DESPERATELY , SOMEONE TO CARE ABOUT ME AS A PERSON, AND GIVE ME SOME LOVE AND KINDNESS, AND ACCEPTANCE, AND STRUCTURE IN MY LIFE, AND GUIDANCE.
I NEED A HOME, NOT JUST A ROOF OVER MY HEAD AND MEAN, HOSTILE PEOPLE, CARING ONLY THAT I HAVE GIVEN THEM MONEY TO COVER THEIR MORTGAGE..

NO !! NO !! NO !!!
\
I AM A HUMAN BEING, AND I DESERVE TO BE TREATED BETTER THAN AN ANIMAL, AND IT SEEMS THAT DOGS ARE TREATED BETTER THEN MOST HUMANS THESE DAYS.

SO, WILL YOU HELP A KIND , GENTLE, TALENTED INDIVIDUAL IN NEED, THAT NEEDS A BEDTIME, A CURFEW, SOME HUGS EVERY DAY, AND SOMEONE SINCERELY INTERESTED IN MY LIFE, TO GET INVOLVED, AND NOT JUST GIVE ME MINDLESS ADVICE. IT IS SO EASY TO SPOUT WORDS OF ADVICE. ANYONE CAN DO THAT , I NEED CARING , NOT ADVICE.

DOES THE NUMBER OF YEARS THAT I HAVE BEEN ALIVE MATTER AS FAR AS HOW I SHOULD BE TREATED?? HOW ABOUT WHO I AM , AND WHAT I NEED? DOES IT MATTER WHAT I NEED? OR AM I JUST A LIFELESS NUMBER THAT IS EXPECTED TO PERFORM AND THINK AS EVERYONE ELSE IS SUPPOSED TO DO, AND IF I CANNOT , THEN I AM LABELED AS MENTALLY ILL?? REALLY?? IS NEEDING A CURFEW AND A BEDTIME THE STANDARD FOR BEING MENTALLY ILL?? CAUSE IF IT IS , THEN I AM ON THE WRONG PLANET, AND PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER IF I KILLED MYSELF. MY LIFE HAS BEEN SO UNBEARABLY LONELY THAT I HAVE RESORTED TO EATING FOOD AS A WAY TO GET LOVE, AND IT NEVER WORKS.
My parents refuse me even to visit them , and that is the worst pain i have ever experienced. Married?? What ??? I have never even had a girlfriend, i was terribly shy.
age ??? i have no age, I am more of a little boy in a body that is 130 pounds and 5 foot and a half tall.
Sorry, but i am not going to think the way you want me to. I do not believe that Jesus is going to save me. I believe only in love and acceptance of each other, and i am just not at this level of maturity that many have told me i am supposed to be at called a grown man. I am not a grown man, i am a hurting, scared little boy whose parents forced me to leave their house and i have been struggling to survive ever since. I have never had a home of my own, i have always lived with strangers, and some of the people have become lifetime friends and loved ones, and some of the people have become people i never want to see or speak to ever again.

WELL
I sunk. Yes, many years have passed, and my body has aged and become very strong, and can do all kinds of physical “yogic” stretches and handstands, etc, but my wounded soul has never healed, and now i am being told By people that know me not, that i am now a “grown man ” and they have put all kinds of totally impossible expectations on me, and now i am supposed to be at a level of maturity, wisdom, and life skills that i just am not at. People that truly don’t know me at all, have put their ignorant expectations on me, and to make it worse, i have experienced so many people saying…….

” How Are You”
yet in truth they truly could care less. Perhaps you have chosen to go along with this ” insanity” to me, and i refuse to go along and say something that so many mindlessly have said to me, yet did not care. In my reality , to ask me how i am doing and not care enough to take me in your home , if i need a home is a crime.

WELL, IT IS ALMOST 3 AM, I HAVE TO LEAVE THE CURRENT ROOM THAT I AM RENTING AND UNLESS SOMEONE TAKES ME IN OUT OF THE KINDNESS OF THEIR HEART, AND READS ME A STORY IN BED, OR GIVES ME A LITTLE BACK RUB OR A MASSAGE, THEN I AM GOING TO HAVE TO SLEEP ALL ALONE AND SCARED IN MY VAN , AND I WILL BECOME SUICIDALLY DEPRESSED , AS I WAS FOR MANY YEARS, LIVING OUT OF A TERRIBLY LONELY VAN. My relatives , all weathy in nice large homes, all turned me away and all i asked for was love, company, and a bedtime, and instead they could have cared less if i dropped dead in my van all alone.
I am not looking for pity , i am looking for support, guidance, and forgiveness and to move on in my life and have a life, and a family of some sort, and to go to bed every night, AT A EARLY TIME and get a goods nights sleep, instead of staying awake all night cause i am so lonely i cannot even think. It is now 3:42 am, and i wish i was sleeping 6 hours ago, instead of mindlessly being on this computer.

There it is, and there you have it.
If you are looking for my money and not my soul to love, please don’t respond.

ONLY RESPOND IF YOU ARE LOOKING TO TAKE A LONELY HURTING SOUL IN YOUR HOME AND NURSE ME BACK TO HEALTH. THEN YOU WILL HAVE ALL THE MONEY YOU WANT, BECAUSE I WILL BECOME A VERY SUCCESSFUL INDIVIDUAL, WITH SOME LOVE/CARING/STRUCTURE/BEDTIME/ HUGS , and i will be happy to give you money. HAPPY TO GIVE YOU MONEY!!

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS, MY FELLOW HUMANS.
GOOD NIGHT !!

April 26, 2010 4:34 pm

keep on keep on

everyone tells me i have my auntie jean’s eyes.

and i know i do, just not in the way they all mean it.

the things i see
the things we see, are never quite the same, though i hear she dreams in the same colors that i do, the same mixed up greens and painful redblacks, the white that only skin can look without blood crashing through it, 

yes we have always been similar in a way, the difference being that

she, unlike me, remembers she is alive, needs not prove to anyone (everyone?) just how alive she is at all times

it was she who first taught me to love, to 
cut, to slice and to dice, 
was under her nurturing eye that i was first counseled in the
way of the wanted, 

and yet now i stand
i stand in front of you, voice as low as the ground and one hand behind me to ask

if you can touch me, if you can taste me, if you can love and shock me, 

because i am not never was my auntie jean, that sweet starling sinner that could stop you with nothing, that silver sand drying liquid lust underneath your tongue—-

i am not auntie jean, i am just 
your blue-blooded lover, waiting for you to jumpstart our hearts
i don’t know what went wrong, i’m not sure what stopped me
from living unlost and in love

- by “nea telarrin”

April 13, 2010 12:25 am

"The Evolution of Love"

"The growing length of childhood coevolved with the enlarging of the brain - which has tripled in size over the last 2.5 million years, since the time of the first tool-making hominids - and with the development of complex bonding, which includes friendship, romantic love, parent-child attachment, and loyalty to a group.

As the brain grew bigger, childhood needed to be longer since there was so much to learn. To keep a vulnerable child alive for many years, we evolved strong bonds between parents and children, between mates, within extended family groups, and within bands as a whole - all in order to sustain “the village it takes to raise a child.” Bands with better teamwork outcompeted other bands for scarce resources; since breeding occurred primarily within bands, genes for bonding, cooperation, and altruism proliferated within the human genome.

Numerous physical, social, and psychological factors promote bonding. Let’s focus on physical factors, and then drill down further to examine two chemicals inside your brain: dopamine and oxytocin. Both are neurotransmitters, and oxytocin also functions as a hormone when it acts outside the nervous system…”

this article, in Psychology Today, written by neuropsychologist/buddhist/co-founder of wisebrain.org rick hanson, goes on to talk about how dopamine has rewards/addiction mechanisms, and leads to increase in testosterone (ie sex drive), and how oxytocin’s experiential qualities are “pleasurable feelings of relaxation and rightness,” promotes bonding, is released with extended physical contact, orgasms, moving together harmoniously, probably during devotional/spiritual experiences, the stimulation of nipples, and more!

January 15, 2010 12:27 am January 6, 2010 10:28 am
default album art record default album art default album art CD reflection
  • Love Is Overtaking Me
  • By: Arthur Russell
  • Love Is Overtaking Me
  • 27 Plays

love is overtaking me