Think Piece Based on a Letter that Applies to Everyone

You all know that I love to write. But did you know I write almost 4 times as much as I post on 5 blogs put together? Yes, I do. I spent a few hours composing a letter to a friend today. It was impressed upon me that there was an urgent need for the letter. And that perhaps it might be already too late. In the end, I shared the important bits with facebook because the impetus for the missive was circulating through my feed again. Among my friends there are always cycles based on "Oh my gosh I totally forgot how much I loved that book." So this weekend The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman is circulating again. I post my note here for you all:

This piece assumes the reader has familiarity with the subject and perhaps has a copy in hand. It comes from a personal letter to a friend. The problems with the 5 languages are usually within us and less within the theories and observations of Mr. Chapman. The glaring pitfall is that there are not 5. There are 6.

I noticed that you took that off the shelf last time I was there. We didn't get the chance to discuss your overall direction of study. Something made you curious about it again. Perhaps it was something I said about dishes? Or perhaps you were trying to figure out in a book what someone else was about in life? 

 

The best success you will achieve in any relationship, in any status, is through direct communication. That does not change no matter which love language either of you speaks.

 

To reiterate something I said about doing dishes with you: If that is how you feel loved, to have help or have something done for you, then you must accept it as it is given without attempting to control how that gift is performed. "Is it too much to ask that it gets done the right way?" 

No. 

However the "right way" is not always going to be synonymous with "My way." Believe it or not everyone was taught dishes in slightly different ways and with varying tolerances in the quality control department. So when you demonstrate or flat out say, "You can show me love by helping me with the dishes." then you have come to the end of your input. From that point, you will be given that kind of love based on the kind of training they were given by people who loved them or whom accepted that demonstration of love in the past. Parents will be the source of most examples of love giving in any of Chapman’s 5 languages. 

When you critique, do over, or use your body to move someone out of the dish doing zone you are rejecting the love that you asked for. This is called body blocking. It is a method employed by manipulative people to control others. As ranchers use dogs, horses and gates to body block herds and funnel them into a location they desire which the animal does not, so too the manipulative person uses body blocking to control another person. This is not a situation which needs that level of control. These things erode your friend’s confidence in their perception of the quality of and level of acceptance of the quality of that love that was given. These levels are learned primarily from parents. When you reject the love you asked for, you manipulate the other person into questioning what they know of love at that level, then all levels. The resulting doubt sets them in pursuit of the perfect love you seek. Which is never fulfilled. Chapman cites a case study describing this more effectively, refer back to the book for the detailed description of the corrosive effects of control in relations. 

 

In the long run, what your behavior communicates is stronger than you words. And the long term effect of controlling how you are loved in the minutest of details is this "I want love but no one is going to love me exactly the way that I want to be loved." And since you will not give what you can not guarantee in return your relationships erode. This either happens because one is manipulative of others as I hinted above or because of a profound lack of self acceptance. With most of my friends who are less successful in relationships, as with myself, the case is definitely one of feeling unworthy of the love we seek.

 

Your issues are not with people they are still with you. They are still with your ability to accept love, they are still with your own thoughts/feelings/beliefs about your worthiness. This is usually the case with people living with frustration for multiple decades on a specific issue. Bearing this in mind it is important to realize:

• No amount of self help will be effective until you have dealt with that.
• Also, the exemptions you ask for yourself you must be prepared to offer to others.
• Most importantly, in order for you to be able to use the 5 love languages to enhance your relationships you will have to relinquish the stranglehold of control you exert in your relationships:
• you do not get to dictate in minute details how the gifts you are given are to be presented
• you do not get to dictate how the gifts you give are received
• there must be concessions for infirmity, mental or physical. A person with a broken leg can not be expected to mow the lawn when they are in a cast any more than a person with sexual assault issues should be poked, prodded, pinched, spanked to produce a squeal for your humor when it induces terror inside of them.
• you must be certain of what is and what is not acceptable within each of the languages. Again, hugs and hand holding for a physical touch person with sexual assault issues is pretty safe, poking, prodding, pinching, slapping is not. IT ONLY TAKES ONE PERSON TO RUIN IT FOR EVERYONE. Don't be THAT person. And if you aren't THAT person, don't remind her of THAT person.

I know that Gary Chapman says the following in the introduction and again in the end of the book. In my personal involvement with people I have learned that people ignore everything outside of the bullet points. So here are a few things to remember about dealing with people in general, dealing with yourself specifically:

• Actions back up words. They do not speak louder than; they support.
• Actions that do not support words are seen as YOU calling bullshit on YOURSELF!
• What you place importance on you make time for.
• If someone or something is truly valuable then it is attended to even when inconvenient.
• When evaluating relationships one must realize that when one can not or will not make time for someone or something then it is of no value and must be eliminated.
• If you don’t really love some one set them free too. There is no judgement or accusation in an honest acknowledging that someone does not belong in your life or that you do not belong in another’s.

There is no scientific research to back up Chapman’s claims, therefor, there is room for refutation. The only thing I would like to refute is the 6th Language. Treasuring the Box. Treasuring the box is a working title as much as the concept still needs some work. In essence it is related to having your friend’s back.

 

 I don’t mean hate who they hate and dress how they dress. I do not mean to say that you encourage poor judgement, false beliefs, or worship at the altar of your friend’s insecurities in a kind of gang mentality to preserve prejudices or egoistic statuary your friend’s mind palace. I mean, have your friend’s back, watch their 6, no one gets left behind in the face of danger have your friend’s back.

 

Treasuring the box deals with security issues. You can speak all kinds of words of love, so soft and tender. You can give the best gifts, throw the best parties. You can perform the most mundane or heroic acts of service, provide the most fun and enjoyable quality time or have the most exquisite physical touch, but if you do not provide security and protection none of that matters.

 

Perhaps I should call this one, Guard the Treasure Box instead. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I said, this is a working title. And I am still working on fleshing out the whole concept. As I said, this was part of a letter and something that had started with inspiration. Not sure how long before I get to the whole post so stay tuned.

Perfectionism: Practice Makes Perfect

So one of my other hobbies, that maybe if I can get good enough I will land a job, is cake decoration. Well, mostly cupcakes. Big cakes are an elusive creature for my skill level. But my cupcake rock. And that was enough to make me think that I could do this when I saw it.



Let's just say that the first attempt is less than flattering. And more than a little annoying. Annoying because I used to have the ability to pick up an instruction and duplicate the process nearly perfectly. I have noticed since the heart issue began that several skills have been diminished. Fine motor skills are nearly non existent. I tried putting together a bracelet and could barely thread the large holed beads onto the thread. And now, there is this mess.

It isn't all me. The technique is fabulous. But I started with a frosting that was too thick. I needed to add either more cream of whip it longer. And I didn't have the flat edged scraper that she had. It is in my case of cake decorating things that I sacrificed to avoid my brother. Long story that I might tell later, The frosting was so thick it kept pulling away from the cake. And it was a recipe that another chef called a crusting frosting. Which means that it is great if you are using a texture plate not so good for blending those shades so subtly. With my diminished fine motor skills I couldn't do much to fix it.

And then there is the ganache.  It definitely ran too much. And there is nothing to do about it. I've never made ganache before. I have avoided the german recipes that call for a layer of ganache over a cake. That was a mistake. Practice with a standard ganache application would have taught me about the proper consistency instead of thinking I'd start out of the gate with this technique.

Walk before you Run.
I've never really had to worry about getting ahead of myself before. Like I said, I used to be able to pick up and do. Now I definitely have to practice. It is frustrating. My cupcakes have been perfect all along. The last ones I made about 9 months ago, perfection. So this lack of coordination in my hands is rather new. I don't like this. I like being the genius. Or the Magician. I am not used to this. It feels like I am moving through mud. This near heart attack has been my kryptonite. Now I'm just a regular human. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Use it or You Lose It
Another part of the problem is that it has been a long time since I've done anything creative. I spent the Winter working crazy hours and was too tired to do much of anything like this. Thus, it's been 9 months since I've made a cupcake. Though I am not sure that Anything would have helped this mess other than practice.

It's Always too Early to Quit~ Norman Peale

Well, let me make it official here at Blogger.... I have been promoted. Sometime in the near future I will be moving to another hotel to be the Executive Housekeeper. I've known for a week month and the first two people I told were the Housemate and the Pen Pal. With this change coming, I am in a mind to be a bit reflective.

On Friendship
If you ever have any doubts as to who your best friend is, or whom you want your best friend to be, take a look at all of your impulses regarding the best news in your life. When the BF and I split a couple of weeks ago the first two people who knew were the Housemate and the Pen Pal. They are the first to know everything. Clearly, the proximity issue with the housemate is an advantage. But lets face it... we wouldn't be housemates if we were not already good friends. They were the first to know about the BF when he was new. They are the first two people that I tell anything to. Then you guys. But this time Facebook got the announcement first.

The person or persons that you instinctively tell anything to, the first people that come to mind when anything happens, or you want to plan an adventure.... those are the people who should know what is going on at all times. They have to be safe, supportive and trustworthy. They can not be dream killers. They can not have an agenda that undermines your efforts. You have to have a good history with them. They should always want what is best for you and they should be the kind of people who are telling you when you are being self harmful and not rush to hand you the tools of your own destruction. Those are the kind of people that you want to be your best friend.

On Resilience
We all have rough patches. We all have areas of our lives that take a nose dive, hopefully one area at a time. Some times work will suck. Some times it will be home. Some times your family will bring you down and other times it will be your life partner. Some times your frustrations will land in the house of your hobbies, some times in finances and some times the car or health. Each area of our lives is prone to catastrophic failure. In most cases it is just the natural progression of having or doing something for a very long time. In other cases it is because you missed a key diagnostic element, signs of wear and tear or because you just were not paying attention to the warning klaxons blaring at you from every direction. And there are times when they rough patch seems to never end.

I've been with the same company for a little over 8 years now. And I have had rough patches here too. Sometimes the rough patch is the end of a cascade failure from other areas that spills, inevitably, into work. And sometimes the rough patch has been because of the elements involved in the job. One rough patch occurred fairly early into the venture. It resulted in the constant barrage of "advice" to quit. The advice came from my brother. This is the same guy, who when he found out that I loved the new job and the new work family decided to throw his support for art into the mix as an emotional monkey wrench. He advocated moving on. Always moving on. And when I told him that I would stay and see things to the end told me what an idiot I was.

Long story short:

I survived the rough patches. I was promoted last year within in this company and now, exactly a year later have another promotion. Why? Resilience. It is nothing to quit a job in which you are unhappy or feel misunderstood. But being unhappy is no reason to quit. Unhappy is a feeling. It is a tempting lure to those ever greener pastures we seek. But those pastures, when we reach them are just as patchy as the place we left. Unhappiness is an illusion as much as happiness is. It is nothing to quit. But it is everything to stay. To stay, to work, in this case literally, through the rough patches is something that defines your character, it is a layer of resilience that you need when life decides to use you for target practice.
I'm not talking about quitting harmful relationships or smoking. I am talking about the way we easily give up when things get difficult. Suddenly, when life throws a few cast off chunks of brick at us, we shrivel up and turn into 5 year old demanding someone fix it for us. When it doesn't get fixed, we pick up our toys and leave. But what good is that? We don't learn to stand for ourselves. We don't learn endurance. We don't learn strength. And we do not learn reason. We don't learn skills.

The only thing we learn is how to run. And that bit only is helpful in an episode of Dr. Who. When was the last time you saw Captain Picard turn tail and hit warp 9? Only when safety is a factor. You leave a job, a sport or a hobby when you are in danger. Ego bruises are not dangerous.

Which brings me to my next bit of musing...

On Relationships
On the whole, I think we give up on those too easily. Our egos get confused as to what is more important at any given moment until we are so twisted around that we think a missed birthday is a reason to dump someone. Or, that a few choice words flung like witch fire will make someone worship us and our egos. Somehow those of us who are rather self sustaining seem to feel that a relationship with a significant other means totalitarianism. Forgiveness gets lost when the ego gets in the way and we quit.

No judgement from me though. I do it too. I've done it in the past and I will do it again. I will do it when I remember something essential about myself that I forgot... I don't belong in one on one relationships. Never have. Probably never will. I am a live alone until a community to which I know I heartily belong too emerges. And then I am only around for as long as we need each other. I am very good of letting healthy things go. I am not good at letting go of damaging people. At least I didn't used to be.

I got dumped. And I am going to make sure that I stay dumped. I could fall into that you have to forgive, you have to leave the door open mentality. But while there was a lot of fun and it showed here and in facebook there were some things that weren't. Some things that we downright emotionally dangerous. It happens. I over estimate my ability to cope with other people's crazy. I under estimate the nature of other people's beasts. But once I get the crap scared out of me there is no letting the defenses down. So there is no choice but to let the one who dumped me stay gone. And not chose a similar path next time. I'm taking heat for being a "quitter" on that one. But I am chosing to be around healthy people. I know... unhealthy people need others and deserve to be supported with love and kindness. Without a doubt I believe that. I just don't think that it has to be me all the time.

And it is the same with leaving my brother out of my life. Far more dangerous than any boyfriend I have ever had, that was a relationship that I spent 39 years trying to get out of and always guilted into remaining on the grounds that we were family. I saw that quote today on Google+. It's always to early to quit. But it is never too early to save yourself.

Family ties and romantic bonds get used to trap us in places with people who can sap our strength. And we are always expected because of those ties to forgive and stay in whatever behavioral cycles we are in. So I wonder.... why doesn't that bond mean we have to be treated better than we are? Why is my brother allowed to undermine me, emotionally twist things to make me dependent on his approval to live, physically intimidate me? If family ties mean that much he should behave better. When he hurts me and I tell him to stop he should stop. That is what he wants of me. But his response has always been "Make me." Taking the "high road" is great. We should always take the high road...

But do we still keep on the high road when we notice the signs have been switched? I say no. When it comes to protecting yourself it is ok to quit. But when you aren't in danger, when it is only an ego that is bruised and there is no real and lasting harm, I say stick with it. Keep at it. Work through that hard time and learn from it. If it makes you stronger, it is always too early to quit.

2015 Creative Sparks

I am not sure that I would call this a resolution. It isn't really. And it is not really a mantra but it could be, as much as it could be an affirmation on the creative process. What it is, is some really good advice and an expanded version of the original "Get excited and make things."

If you don't know, or have forgotten since it has been so long that I have written anything, "Get excited and make things." is a Wheatonism. Wil Wheaton, during his redevelopment/redefinement phase of rebuilding his idea of who he was when Star Trek the Next Generation was no longer an option for him, realized that he would have to get excited and make things. And he made a lot of things. Novels, collections of new style essays, blog posts, internet TV shows, live performance pieces and I don't know what all. As he started to explore his interests and exercise some bravery in attempting things that might not work he came to a painfully simple conclusion that, honestly, stares us all in the face every day. If you are excited about a thing you should try the thing.

If you are excited about a thing and try it it might not come out perfectly. It might only be okay. It might totally suck because it was your first time to do the thing but you enjoyed the process. So in that case, you do a thing again and get closer to what your expected outcome was. This in essence is what creativity is all about. What has happened to us as a society, and me in particular, is that we judge our activities by the monetary value. Suddenly everyone is turning a hobby into a business. Which is a cool thing to happen when you are making things and are excited about them. Conversely, I find a lot of people regretting, abandoning and editing the creative process into stagnation when the ability or desire to monetize a hobby doesn't happen. And that kills the excitement about making things. And then suddenly you aren't making things anymore.

I've always believed that the act of creating things is as important as the thing itself. The creative process is its own reward in the therapeutic effects derived from the process itself. With all the pressure that exists to make money at every opportunity, especially in a recession, hobbies begin to feel like a money drain and an ill afforded luxury. So some times we stop making things. I stopped making things. At least, I stopped for a while. The problem is that after a while you lose your skills.

So now I am stuck at a point where I want to make things but I am afraid of how they will turn out. I've also not been participating in the online life that I have had since I discovered Pintrest, which is a whole other problem for a later post. I don't read as many blogs. I haven't watched tabletop and the inclusion of new people in my life has changed the time frame that I have for doing the things that I personally enjoy. You do have to sacrifice something to spend time on a river... its a trade off. That's just how things are and that is okay. But it still becomes a slow descent into stagnancy, creatively speaking. There is a feeling of hopelessness when you first realize that something in you is not as cool as once was and you try to get the groove back.

Today, I took a day to just deal with being me. I logged into Wil's blog and found that he is doing radio free burrito again. Having had a listen to get caught up and cruising through some posts, I realize what has been holding me up these last few months. I had gotten excited about making stuff and made stuff. And then got stuck. Today I found the thing that I hope will get me unstuck, the thing that is 2015's Creative Spark.

The idea is not to be perfect. The idea is to make a thing.

In 2014 I started only 2 watercolors. I didn't finish the one because I ended up with a promotion and got a lot of hours I wasn't prepared for. And it is a hard job so there is a lot of pain at the end of the day that keeps the extracurriculars down to a dull thumping at the back of the head. But it was also an ambitious project with a new technique. I couldn't finish it in one setting. And after the second week working on this thing I started to get terrified that it wouldn't come out how I wanted it to look. And it started to not look like it was supposed to. Enter the Internal editor. And I haven't touched it in months. I look at it and think... where was I going with that?

I also started a new blog in 2014 to explore the fun things that I was learning about Germany and German cooking. And in the last half of the year those posts have stopped since I have moved. My new place won't give the photography the kind of aesthetic that I want them to have. And so I have stopped blogging. I stopped writing posts because it wasn't going to come out the way that I wanted. It wouldn't come out perfectly. So I stopped. And my blog suffers.

This has always been a thing. I get comfortable and confident with writing and art so that I think that I am going along at a cracking pace. Everything is good. And then the editor slips in and starts making comments. It always happens when I experience change. It's just that I never noticed it when I was younger because the externals in my life were never so pressing to take away from the creative process. When you are your own bill payer it is a bit different. So now when I have to stop having fun and be a grown up it gets harder to get back into the creative game. Not only is the editor critiquing every little mark the brush makes, it judges the work based on the money it could earn if only it was good enough. In other words, perfect.

So I am going to have to get the editor under control and make 2015s Creative Spark Wil's new mantra. The idea isn't to be perfect. The idea is to make a thing.

Summer Vacation: kayaking

It isn't exactly like loading up a woody with the boards inside and heading out singing a song, but it will have to do. A MacGyvered rack made of paddles and pool noodles carried two kayaks to a spot on the Boardman River a bit south of town. We toddled along the river for a hour and a half on a cool enough day to avoid bugs and early enough to avoid indecent sun exposure. My face would have killed me if we were out any longer.

So obviously I do not have a waterproof camera. This is a composition
collage from two visits to the same stretch of river. If I had a waterproof
camera there would be pictures of us in the kayaks on the water.... and maybe
up close shots of the water hazards. Well, maybe not just yet. I'm not that fast
with the shutter or the steering. 

The whole experience was awesome. For someone who has never done it before, kayaking was a blast. Of course my boyfriend wouldn't let me get into anything too far over my head. His basic instructions and a few minutes to myself on the water to get the feel for it without the judging glare you get from other people and I was good to go. I even felt bold enough at one point to rock my Otter back and forth to see just how far it would let me lean. In that respect it is a little like riding a horse. Or a motorcycle... so I have heard.

That was a few weeks back. It's taken a while to post because my new position keeps me a lot busier than the old one did. And there has been some illness and other happenings between then and now. I have another post to make about another day trip. And I think I am behind in my lighthouse updates. Oh wait... have I told you we have been to some lighthouses? I think I am behind in a lot of things.

I've been so busy it almost feels like I have the old group back together. The only difference is that I am forty and instead of being rejuvenated I am plum tuckered out at the end of these excursions. Why didn't I do these things in my 30s?

Sometimes We Bully Ourselves

Recently read a letter that I found tucked in and among some things while I was semi-unpacking. That was back in November and it cut me to the core, just like it did when I first read it. The letter, written by a boyfriend who would not be long for my life, accused me of failing to meet the standards of a girlfriend.

You see, the letter came with the downturn in my business caused by a variety of circumstances not the least of which was the beginning of the end of print media. I was having a hard time meeting expenses and being asked to help fund another person's lifestyle. I could not do both without losing my own home. So I did what was necessary to keep my home.

In this letter, I was accused of being devious, that I only will care about things as far as my own needs are met. Of course, if someone were taking care of me and struggling they would have said that they were taking care of business. The only difference between the two stances is that he was a man and I was a woman.

A woman can not, still in this day and age, make the tough choices without being accused of some womanly failing. What would be considered assertive, definitive, level-headed and done of necessity by a man is considered devious and under-handed when done by a woman. The motive is not questioned when a man draws a line. But when a woman draws a line there is always haggling, assumptions are made about her intent.

If we are to temporarily cut someone off for the good of the future we are plotting something underhanded. And if we concede to the whims of those who must join us in sacrifice, and the future collapses, then we are held solely to blame. Women have run households for eons. We are to feel guilt when there are sacrifices to be made and others suffer along with us. But when another makes the sacrifices that cause us to suffer we are to bear the burden with a lightness of being that can only be found in the insipid characters of fairy tales.

Truly though my real crime that caused him to accuse me of being devious was that I refused to feel guilty about the choices that I made. I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for telling him no. Felt no sympathy at all for him when he had to go without extras while I was going without the basics. I did not put him in his situation. And no one has the right to ask anyone to become homeless to provide comfort to another. So when I did what I had to do to recover my losses and keep my home I felt no guilt at all. Heartless?

Logical.

You have to do what needs to be done to keep everyone together in the BIG PICTURE. You do what you have to do to provide for you and yours, even if yours don't understand.

I can't feel guilty about making tough choices. A friend of mine was recently worried about taking advantage of things available to him as a matter of course. If something is made available to you and you have need of it then accept it. There is no reason to feel guilty. When you have insurance policies it does no good to refuse to file a claim. The claim is there for you to take what you have been paying for in the first place. When a service is offered you accept the service. Guilt free.

Guilt free!

Provide for yourself. We are all old enough now to know that no one looks out for us better than ourselves. Guilt free provisions, that's what I am talking about. We bow down to others when we have a weak sense of ourselves. And we bow down to others when we should not because we lack the faith in ourselves to assert the same rights others have. I think that we bully ourselves long after the other bullies have grown up and been put to bed.

Stop carrying on where the others left off!

Byzantium: She'll be waiting in Istanbul

There are few things as iconic as the famed yellow border of a National Geographic magazine except, perhaps, the religious icons of a long forgotten era of World History originating on the peninsula between the Mediterranean & Black seas... in the city of Byzantium, the cultural center of the Byzantine Empire.

 Known by a variety of names by the early inhabitants; Romania, Empire of the Romans and among the cultural elite of the main body of the Roman Empire of the West, Empire of the Greeks. This term was used to define the eastern portion of the Roman Empire by its primarily Greek inhabitants and rulers as almost a class unto itself. At least this is how I interpret the wiki article I've been perusing. As part of the entire Roman world you would think that the traditional Roman remodel would have come to this far flung area as is usual. Somewhere in history that I have yet to unearth, someone decided to make peace with the Greek factions that were conquered and given this region between the Seas for their playground. And it is here that the Greek aesthetic won out over the more subdued Roman style. So I gather.

The first use of the term Byzantium came in 1557 from a German historian named Hieronymus Wolff. It was not popularized until the Victorian era but once the name took it spread like wildfire. Byzantium is the empire's capital city and has been more popularly known by its other names.... Istanbul. And Constantinople....





You're welcome.

The magazine above was published in 1983. I clearly recall this cover. And most of the pictures inside. But for whatever reason the information in the articles is a bit hard to recover from the depths of my memory banks. All I know is that I loved the colors and patterns, the architecture and the symbolism in the things that they were restoring. And I love the places that you can see its influence. And true to the 80s style, jewel tones, icons and bold brass, bold gold patterns came into vogue from this long dormant empire back into the sun of our collective artistic consciousness. Eventually this lead to a brief fling with heraldic symbols. But the jewel tones indicative of the Empire stayed through out the decade.

While looking over the internet for suitable art work to pilfer for this post, I came across a very interesting article on an amazing art site. It amazes me just how much of the things I used to absorb as a kid and drool over just a few years ago has left the building so to speak. Obviously, with my passion for rich colors, the influence is still there. And I do wonder again. About everything. But as I am looking over the art on google and I find so many mosaics, I do wonder that anyone had the patience to put these things together. I have a hard time with a 1000 piece puzzle. As I have done eggshell mosaics and found those tedious as well, I can not think on how to accomplish these wall murals and floor designs with these itty bitty pieces of stone.

Look at the detail. You can't plan-a-gram that. Or can you? I have a hard time with printed counted cross-stich and needle work. Obviously with religion as a theme, there is a component of meditation involved with the practice that I can not fathom. So I will have to focus on subject and colors and forget about the process which undoubtedly would drive me batty.

Perhaps I will have to build a board on Pintrest to remember all these things that are still tucked away in boxes somewhere.

Something David Said

My cousin David is an artist and he has had quite an amazing amount of life happen to him over the years which could get a fella down. Yet he is always positive and quite productive. He said something on Facebook in the context of life that really made a lot of sense to me and encouraged me as well.... I need to get out of the idea that selling art is only for a select few.

The Liar Depression is always trying to hold you back. Sometimes it wins. Sometimes you win. I don't win very often. And one of the reasons that I don't is that I keep believing that I don't have the credentials to sell my work. I have the skill. But not the cred.

For some reason I think that matters. Nevermind that we have all been taught that it matters. And that an artist is not really an artist until he or she is in a gallery and has tons of sales. It's like writing. If you aren't making money at it then that is not who you are. I don't make money doing this. But I am a writer. The only qualification is to actually write. I am an artist. I make art. That should be enough.

It should. It isn't. And so.....
I've put David's words into a banner. Whatever you are doing that Depression wants you to stop doing that would be good for you can be substituted for the word art. Substitute. Tell your self the truth. It isn't enough to call Depression a liar if you are going to go back to your safety zone and hide. Call it a liar. AND kick it in the teeth.

Do what you like. Do what you are called to do.
Steal this if you have to.

And yes.... I am letting this bleed over so that if you want to lift it you can have a descent size to do so. Normally I hate having anything run off the page. But for you I make an exception.

A Food Geek Is Born

So there was a discussion about PBS shows we watched as kids at work. Then there was the weird random follow up conversations in random places which then lead me to thinking about the sources of my interests. Cooking came from my Grandparents to start with. I was taught beginning when I was 4. My first dish was scrambled eggs and I made a mess because Grampa made me nervous. And I got recipes and cookbooks for gifts periodically as I grew up. But then there was PBS.

At the same time I discovered Dr. Who, I found this man, Jeff Smith.



My first cooking teacher. Dad and I watched him every Saturday. I'd made a mention of him on Wordpress and it was recommended that I keep in mind links. So I found links. Which lead me to what amounts to an half season's worth of episodes which take me right back to being in high school.

If ever there is a time to recapture a little of the glory of those days, it is when you approach your period of mid life crisising so that you can maybe do things a little different than you did the first time. For instance, I hid who I was in high school. Lots of years an lots of advice later I am not hiding. And I am telling you guys to come out and be yourselves. Hiding is bad.

Let me tell you a story.

I hid my interest in food for a long time. Classmates were comfortable with me being an artist but not too comfortable with me being interested in as many "grown up" things as I was. So I didn't talk about the Frug (pronounced; froog). I'd been watching him since about 7th grade. And to show you how dedicated I was to hiding from my classmates, I declined invitations to go out, blaming a babysitting gig, so that I could stay home with my dad to cook. Dad decided that I should put this education to use. We would watch the Frug and then shop for the ingredients to make some of the meals I'd taken notes on. It took about 6-8 episodes to come up with the recipe that we figured we could afford to try.

In 12th grade my best friend started to threaten me with an education on cooking. I'd been cooking for the family for about 3 years at that point. About a year after high school she earnestly began to teach me to cook. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I already knew. So for the last 25 years she has taken credit for the work that this man did and for the patience that my father had in letting me have control of the kitchen on the weekends that I didn't work.

If you want to learn how to cook he is a good place to start. Information, humor, grace (there is no yelling) and context for everything that he talks about. Rachel Ray and Martha Stewart will break down the recipe and get the food on the table. But the Frug will get the food into your soul.

As the Frug ended his show, I shall end this post: I bid you peace.

 

 

What? Me Worry?

Playing this close to the vest. My worry inducing date went just fine. Had a lot of reason to be impressed before and more now. All I am really able to say in any official capacity is this...

If you've ever doubted my assertions that you must, without hesitation or trepidation, be yourself and let your Freak Flag Fly, then let this be a reminder to you. (Hell... remind me when I doubt my own advice).

You have to be yourself.

The only way you are ever going to find people who belong with you is if they can recognize you. If you look like every khaki panted, blue blazered, loafer wearing wannabe exec then the people wearing orange tuques or plaid deerstalkers, brown coats, bowties with fezes and 3-D glasses while wielding Light sabers  & flip communicators, discussing the finer points of Starfleet protocol and Asgard technology are going to pass you by. They already know that the exec types aren't going to be geek-friendly so they don't bother any more. They've been called weirdoes their whole lives and they are only into being in the groups to which they belong.

Those "weirdoes" are your people.

I'm not saying there is a dress code in geekdom. I'm saying that once you start converting your outside to look like everyone else then your insides convert too. Your Soul won't. Your Soul will sit in your gut and judge you like Grumpy Cat, counting down the nanoseconds until you get a clue while making you miserable in the passive aggressive way that our bodies do to let us know we are being stupid.

It has been a long, long time since I have met anyone who shares close to the same kinds of "weirdness" that I have who is of a suitable dating gender. Not going to even try to predict the future here because that is just asking Karma to send a tornado when all you need is a light breeze... but if ever there is a chance of there being anything with any person on the planet... it is going to be with someone who belongs in your tribe. Sure.... cats and dogs can get along. But it is rare. Go ahead and throw Dharma & Greg at me and I will remind you that TV shows are seldom a wise choice in supporting arguments. Those kinds of matches don't happen often and they don't always last when they do. The statistical probability of long term happiness comes when you are in your own tribe.

And no... I don't mean race. I mean temperament. I mean personality and interests. I mean having a common language apart from your native tongue. Your people who will recognize you and forgive your transgressions because you are one of them.... those are the people you need to be with. Whatever the capacity or status of the relationship, whatever the future holds for any of us.... you will only succeed in any endeavor if you are yourself.

How will this turn out? Who knows. You all know I have a knack of screwing these sorts of things up in 5 emails or less. That we have gotten past the traditional stages of Failure is a good sign. The next hurdles to get passed are 1. my ability to intimidate by expecting too much too soon and 2. my unerring ability to pick a fight without meaning to somewhere just before the 6 month anniversary. As you can see.... I have a good reason to be cautious. But lots of reason for optimism.

And that too is part of my point. You don't know how anything will turn out before it turns out.... unless you are doing the same crap that you've always done. In that case it is safe to say that the same things will always happen. Just do what you need to do.

Be who you need to be.

The right people will come into your life, in any capacity, they will come.

BUT THEY HAVE TO BE ABLE TO FIND YOU!!!!!!!!!!! QUIT HIDING UNDER THE COVER OF NORMAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please. I promise it is the way to be the best happy that you can be. You might not be rich. You might still be single. But you will be happy. Just be yourself damnit!

And remind me that I said this when I forget this and try to conform again.

Oh... and just so you know, I won't be writing details. Just insights. No personal stuff. He doesn't know I have a blog. He is a scorpio and we all know how well that worked out for me last time... and I wasn't even talking about HIM! And I think that at this juncture it would be prudent for me to reign in my Aquarius a little by honoring other signs above my own. I don't have a problem blathering about things. But not everyone feels like being that open.

Random Adventures About Town

 

 

The Traverse City State Hospital was built in 1911... or established in 1911. The history is almost irrelevant today as I am mainly enthralled by today's adventure. A friend of mine and I went up today to toddle around and take pictures of the patina and decay before the reclamation process makes it all shiny and new again. The place has character in any state of existence, it has a story for almost every resident of our fair city. But today was about the design  and the patterns of life etched across those designs. If anything could stand as a symbol for change this is the place. Since my friend is moving on to other things in her young life it seemed the right way to celebrate her changes.

 

After traveling the exterior footprints of the remaining buildings we arrived back where we started and finished the adventure with a wonderful Italian meal made by authentic Italian transplants here. The various stages of construction flowed from one design aesthetic to the other. Some places bore an Italianate design as is fitting since the developers are Italian. Others had a decidedly Dutch/German/Scandanavian face. In several spots I thought that we were on the grounds of a glorious European castle.... or at least could fake it well for a while.

 

My thoughts kept returning to the Gothic architecture and the things in my art history class that are fading without constant use, my heart kept turning back to the idea that I need to get to Germany. Drawn almost inexplicably, the desire to go does not diminish. And this façade did nothing to ease the desires....

 

For whatever reason this octagonal bay protruding into an almost enclosed courtyard seemed to me the most German face on any of the building. Simple, strong design, clean lines and honestly, one of the best looking of the older buildings and stark in its contrasts just seemed to say Middle Germany. Maybe not middle ages Europe. But Middle Germany. The only thing that is missing here is a couple of swans swimming in a moat or a pond with Willow trees framing the picture. Matthias' Schwanenkönig played in my head while Sarah and I blithely snapped picture after picture.

 

Coming around one corner at the right of this picture we found gables in dire need of restoration but still beautiful in its state of decay...

This reminded me of the canal houses along the rivers and in the ports of just about every country touching the North Sea. I t needs so much care and attention. With its great bones still in tact, and amazingly, with its gingerbread still held aloft, the character and rich tradition of craftsman ship that was once part of our American heritage is evident still. With the weathered textures and crumbling blocks that heritage's European roots show. And knowing that Europe protects and honors its cultural heritage far better than we do here, I think is what made me think of Europe, Germany all night.

As we left we heard parts of an open air concert on the lawn behind Building 50, the State Hospital's most recognized sector. How wonderfully weird it would have been to have had the power to blend all my interests in that moment and have Matthias here on the grounds or put Building 50 in Europe at one of his up coming venues. I would love a time when all of my weird interests could collide in a spectacular revel.

 

Alas... that will have to wait for the dreamscape.

 

I learned a few things about me and my ambitions tonight while talking with Sarah.

I learned about my shortcomings in the skills department. The panoramic setting still escapes me and the composite image about shows me I need to work on those skills.

 

I have plenty of Summer sunlight left to practice.

And plenty of Life to work those ambitions out.

 

But for now I must go to bed. Its' been a long three days and I am overly tired. If I do not dream of dragons, unicorns and rampant lions tonight I will be surprised.

Inspired by a Loud Bird

I'll warn you now... I am starting to feel a bit obsessive about peacocks and peacock motifs. It isn't really new. When I was in Utherverse I was throwing peacock themes into my Glassmalerei Wintergarten because they just lend themselves to the magic of stained glass windows. But I loved them in the 80s, along with heraldry and big chunky baubles. And as of late, while I have been working on the watercolor for the Christmas card, I've really gone over the deep end.

So as I do some research and submerge myself in the motif I'll probably share some amazingly boring facts that really might only excite me. For instance: Did you know that peacocks and pheasants are from the same avian family? I am going to quess quail are in the lot too. I had no idea. And I had no idea that they are commonly called spurge.

My dad had a different name for pesky birds: scourge. So not the same thing but may as well be for as welcome as any of them ever were on the farm.

Well, I am off to research and plot some paintings and what not. Most likely I will develop some images for rubber stamps too. Then the trick will be getting them produced. May have to hand carve some of those and get really cozy with Dick Blick to do it. oy!

There's a life lesson in there somewhere

You know what the best part of being forced to walk every where is? Nope, not the health benefits of regular exercise. Nope, not meeting nice random people on the street. Yes there are nice random people. And yes, sometimes they even stop to chat you up. Yes... even when you are in a hurry and it is painfully obvious that you are trying to politely walk away when every muscle is straining to force you to run screaming. And no, it isn't the random puppy or large dog love that you get from woefully under training pets.

It's being able to crunch the fall leaves like you did when you were a kid. This Northern Michigan Autumn is kinda weird. And I don't mean that in a bad or complainy way. It's weird because while we have had such a dry and hot Summer, most of the ornamental plants are still thriving, the daytime temps are only a few degrees cooler than the Summer norms which is still seasonally warm. We've had some frost advisories but nothing close to normal. The average night time temps are cold and in the mid to low 30's but there are still pockets of warm air. And until just yesterday the deciduous trees were still fairly green.

And that is what is weird. Beginning with the Summer Solstice the nights have lengthened in ever increasing amounts which, by most accounts, allows the leaves to change. The amount of sunlight we recieve allows the trees to photosynthesize and therefore maintain a brilliant green color. Without sufficient amounts of light you get foliage in their natural color. Yes. Green is artificial.... sort of. So really the leaves should have changes a week or two ago. Weird.

This is really the twighlight season; it is not quite Summer and not quite Winter. But this year it is not quite autumnal either. So on my walk to the grocery store today there were plenty of Summer flowers in bloom. I passed a house with a white wooden fence that is lined with hydrangeas. Some were gradients of blue and violet, others gradients of pink and green and then some bold rose to raspberry blends. And above? A canopy of brilliant yellow, orange, reds and burnt sienna. Weird.

And while the leaves are down they are drying. So Summer flowers are still suple from the watering they still recieve and the fallen leaves are brittle. Everything about this season is a contrast between what can be expected and what is.

It seems as though there could be a life lesson in there somewhere...

New Voice

The perfect video and maybe the perfect voice for what I have been feeling in this round of grief. You all know that I do not normally go for the female voice. I think that is because it is rare that a woman in the music world (after 1978) has much to say to me. Madonna tries to hard to sound deep amd mystical while she is dancing on the surface of any topic. And the rest of them are just a bunch of party girls who are trying to elevate drunken disorderliness to a level of perfection reserved for saints and nobel prize winners. PeWerner, Adele and Lana Del Ray would be notable exceptions in Europe and Norah Jones is the exception here. Oh, and sometimes Cindi Lauper; Time After Time kills me when I here it becausse there is always someone that I miss when I hear it. But she is the first lady of PartyTown Rockers. However... I can still only take a woman's voice in small doses.

So it should be as much a surprise to you as it is to me that I am actually going to review a female performing artist. Right after I tell you how I found her and what kinda geek I really am. Single, having lost Sir Knight and finding myself outside of previous circles I need to rebuild my life's support systems. Of course it wouldn't hurt to have a good guy friend to She-Bop with... so off again to the dating websites. And to one I have not tried before. ACG (A Chicago Guy- haven't mentioned him in a while so I thought I would remind all ya all who he is) told me about a site he was having luck with. So I thought I would give it a try.

With more honesty that ever before, I filled out a profile that I could have sworn was going to chase away anyone of potential. But no. I found so many good matches in a high percentage bracket. Whoo hoo! I spent two days reading through the profiles of everyone who scored a high match. And I mean read; finally, I found guys who wrote books about themselves. No cheesey come-ons. No one liners that Fonzie used... that only Fonzie could have used. No overly rehearsed and overly used mantras about how perfect they are for the any woman. No words about flowers, chocoates and promises they don't intend to keep*... men who actually were able to fill out their information honestly. And there was a trend that I decided to pay attention to this morning when I happened across a music review on Wordpress.

Six men mentioned this woman on their list of favorite recording artists. Geeks, meet Regina Spektor. Straight outta Moscow and living in New York City, this woman is amazing. The review listed several songs. It was not until I listened to "Eet" that I really tuned in. She does sound like Adele with that breathy staccato. And there is a little Lana DelRay in her tone. But it is the lyricism that really brought me on board. "all the Rowboats" takes on a sci-fi fantasy inquery along the lines of the late greats Ray Bradbury & Kurt Vonnegut. It is empathic. Anthropomorphic. And something that reminded me of my 12 year old self that felt pathos when thinking of museums instead of awe and inspiration. Don't get me wrong... glad we can all see these great works. But I always thought it was a little sad to trap those things that could come to life under the right circumstances. And obviously with the success of "Night at hte Museum" I wasn't the only kid hoping the paintings would come to life. But... I digress.

The video for "eet" shows a key on a keyboard with some other musical notations and I wondered, how have I not heard of "eet"? So I did some research. She totally made it up. It was these two songs, Rowboats and "eet" that have me hooked. No, I do not think that she will replace Matthias Reim or Sting.  Honestly, no one could. But she does sum me up quite well:

"And I am crying for things that I tell others to do without crying"

And you know what I find most interesting about the fact that these men like Regina Spektor? It shows me that some of my skepticism about the depth of a man's soul might be a bit unfounded. The fact that I have found the most shallow of them is not proof that they are all shallow. And what it does prove is that I may actually have to go to Europe to find what I am looking for. Other than one dear friend here and having found an old friend, this new site has not turned up anything local other than two really good people to talk to. But you know what? For right now that is all I should hope for. I hurt. My belief in fairytales is subparr to the hope that I have that Romance is not dead, having bled out in a dark alley when no one was looking. So for a while I will talk, share and learn how to open my thoughts and hopes again. In the Someday in the Future it will be time to look for that long term relationship.

Until then there is music to heal and music to share. And let's be honest, other than music, there is only food to level the playing feilds of culture and gender. The best way to get to know someone is to share their food and their music. Both are doorways to the soul.

http://www.youtube.comyoutube/user/ReginaSpektor?feature=watch  this is the youtube channel. Since she has uploaded these, you an be certian they will not disappear from the playlists that you make.

http://youtu.be/2CZ8ossU4pc

Harmony

The added sunlight with this season is really helping to ease the blood pressure down without meds. If anything though, I think it is the quality of the light. It is warm while the sun is still low in the sky. In mid afternoon it is right without being over powering. And thus, in the Spring a mid afternoon bath is perfect.

The light in Spring is tranquil. It is a way to build up slowly to the frenzy of Summer when the sunlight is an amped up energy drink. It is energizing and restorative.

I have time to breathe. To think. To come out of the self-protective shell that I crawl into in the Winter when there is no light. The old tired self sloughs off and the new self starts to shine again. Regrouping is key. And somehow, having time to notice how things change around me helps that.

I woke up to a new prospect this morning & a conversation that reflected the thoughts in this post. Tentative but familiar.  There is a change in the quality of communication. But it is too soon to know where it will lead. And honestly, like frost on budding cherry blossoms, if I predict it or try to control it the fruit will be spoiled before it is ever seen. Spring is the time when things unfold and manifest on their own. Patience. You have to wait and see how things will turn out. Just like you can not rush through Spring to get to Summer.

Patience. And positive thoughts. Remaining hopeful and aware and doing the things that must be done...ever onward. That, I think, is what harmony really is.

Architectural Geek

I do not know if it was the set of building blocks or the Fisher Price castle play set that I had when I was a kid that did it. But I have loved buildings since I can remember... ya know, it might have been the Gothic styled church I attended too. Exterior details that look like icing on an elaborate wedding cake are practically non-existent in modern architecture. While I live in the northern part of Michigan where one would think we are about as progressive as Jed Klampett, progress seems to be the main drive of the ruling establishment. It has since I was a little kid. We tend to tear down everything that is too expensive to fix and throw some bland expensive building up with no personality.

Our old Gothic revival styled church was replaced with a sprawling monstrosity of modernity and innovation. Stylistically I have hated the new church since its erection. Granted, on a dark Sunday after watching a horror movie, I was not terribly interested in being inside the church. I expected every daintily crenellated niche shelf to throw it statuary to the ground right on top of the first row. Or worse, bleed on Father Officiating at the Time from on high while he is blessing the sacraments. But on a sunny day with all those colors dancing in the nave and the gold gilt glinting... it really was very much like magic.

Other churches in town, smaller denominations, were able to sell their buildings to be renovated for single family use so there are some great old bones with new paint on them. But we razed our church. Logistically it was not possible to sell. It sat on the corner of a block where the school was. Renovating for the churches continued use was out of the question. So I am sure turning it into apartments was a huge "Hell NO". But it would have been a marvelous place to live.

Of course all the gingerbread that adorned these old buildings is gone. Some people might have decided to replace it all with the modern equivalent. But it is expensive. And it is a great place for roosting pigeons and seagulls who get lost. That is why mom took all the gingerbread off of our Queen Anne. Why she made it into a monster of an eye-sore is another question. And i guess that is also part of what makes me such a sucker for architecture.

They are beautiful to look at. And when you think of the time it takes to learn those skills. And the great skill that develops to be able to carve the ornaments for pediments and mouldings... so many people would have jobs and a place to live if we didn't keep reducing everything to its most bland and basic. There is no market for those skills. So the people who have that hands and eye for creativity have fewer outlets. And we have a growing population of homogeneous buildings that lack character and distinction. And thus, my eye is ever drawn to Europe. The past sits alongside the present and rushes into the future. In some places it is not working so well. But in others it shows a glorious pastiche of a city's heritage. And it is inspirational...

I guess that is the extent of my romanticism: To be surrounded by beauty that sits upon firm foundations. I'm not a unicorns and gummybears romantic that thinks every pumpkin is the coach to my prince's castle. I am a romantic that believes there should be beauty in every life no matter what social status or income level. I hold that a beautiful place to live would inspire someone to rise above their limitations. So that means that I lean toward the altruistic. Because I know that those who thought a beautiful tenement in NYC would inspire the poor to live cleanly if cheaply were horribly disappointed when the wrong element came in. Poverty is not the indicator of that element though it is often misconstrued as such. Anyone, no matter the net worth can be a slob. But that is a rant for another time.

I am an architecture geek. And I think that is one of the reasons that I love my game so much. The security measures that were up are down. And I spent some time in world taking more pictures... just in case. I will go back today and do more. The things that are possible with a few props and some good photos to lay over them for texture really is only limited by imagination & a little knowledge.

Take the photo at right. Those "portholes" would never hold water in the real world. But I clipped them out of a Victorian styled building anyway, applied them to a prop and voila! A window. Behind that prop is another with the "scenery" behind it. In this case my avatar gets to live the undersea adventures of a refined yet deranged sea captain's guest.

This is a place where you can really mix and match eras in true steampunk fashion. I forgot to take a pic of the lighting arrangements that I have going on. They are craftsman styled and very much belong to the craftsman and mission aesthetic. But put them here and they are very "nautical"  & scream function over form.

You can see that the walls are a corrugated metal. I was inspired by the Mackinaw Brewing Company's maritime wall. One would think that this could be rather limiting. But if you treat the walls uniformly then you can do anything that you want to with the decor and still have something that is cohesive without being boring. I try to keep things from being jarringly noticeable. In the Wintergarten the aesthetic has gotten a little loose. I'll have to tighten things up a bit and take down the Christmas decorations. And while the maritime feel can seem limiting, if I keep to a palette I can do above and below surface for decore and it will still make sense.

I am trying to find compass roses that I like. Being the finicky kind, I will most likely have to bite the bullet and paint one myself. I decided if I want a leaded glass dome like many historical european gazaebos in the public parks that I will have to paint that myself to use as a texture. That is gonna be a lot of painting! Sheesh!

But ahhhh...... the joys of design!

There are sorrows aplenty too. And if it were not for the great masters of art & architecture that have come before, then none of this would be possible either: Gaudi, Barma & Postnik, de Chelles, Guimard, Ramsey, Schumacher, Baehr, Grosvenor, Ohlmstead, and countless others who have yet to be discovered.

Smashwords

Have you guys heard about it? I hadn't until a friend of mine sent me a coupon. I do not have an e-reader of anykind though I've been encouraged to own a Kindle. Honestly, I do not know which reader I want. I only know that I need to get one because a lot of what I like to read is only available in digital formats. Uncle Wil uses LuLu and Eileen uses Smashwords.

It is really pretty easy. And it is very economical. Most of the digital format books I that looked interesting are under 10.00. And I can get GERMAN language books. Yeah, no. I looked and Matze's autobiography is not available. Are you kidding me? That is the FIRST thing I looked for. So anyway; I did not have to download new software or anything since I chose to read in a PDF format that my Adobe likes.

And it turns out, if I ever finish my novel I can have them publish it. The terms for publishing seem very reasonable too. And form what little I was able to investigate, it is the easiest format to use. Seems like it works a lot like Google Docs which is great because I am intimidated by other publishing software. And honestly, it is hard enough to write the words. I do not want to worry about software too.

So the whole reason that I even know about this now is that I signed on for a contest. All I had to do was explain anti or pro Valentines Day to win a book. When I got the winning email is when I read the fine print: digital only. So off to Smashwords for the second book win in as many years as I have made the attempt.

As you recall I won The Happiest Days of Our Lives lottery. Verrah cool. And amazing. I knew when I hit the send button that I was going to win. And this year, when Eileen offered the chance I took it. It was mostly a lark though. Cause I didn't have that gut feeling. But I wanted to enter because I thought it would be cool to have something from her.

I went to school with Eileen. We were not close friends. We took some of the same art classes during which I would drool all over her talent. And her innate ability to find the neatest art supplies which was only surpassed by Michelle Ward some 20 years later. I remember a set of  very thin pastels. Vibrant and luscious sticks of color sitting in orderly rows in the white plastic tray. I think she'd found them in Chicago over that weekend. I've never seen anything so small since. Nor any colors so rich. I remember a few glimpses of some of her sketches and thought "I want to do that".

We also took a class called Forensics. Not so much about human cadavers as it was about expression. I still remember the piece from Julius Caesar that we did. I was supposed to die dramatically. No matter how much we rehearsed I just could not find the nerve to fake die. Eileen was encouraging and empathetic. And I promised her that when the time came I would do what I needed to do. And I did. I just did not do it with the dignity and aplomb she did her dying with. I chose comedy. Specifically, I chose the Bugs Bunny approach and finally fell onto the desk of a student audience member. I chose the student because I knew I wouldn't feel weird being that close to him or her. But I can't tell you who it was.

You see I was so certain that the rest of my team was going to kill me for sure that I blocked 90% of the event from my internal hard drive. Eileen was cool with what I did. Mrs. B said she wasn't sure comedy was the way to go but engaging the audience as particpant worked for her. I was definately the weakest link of the ensemble. But no one made me feel stupid for that. As a matter of fact, on the bus ride to the next competition at the end of the week Eileen was very encouraging with regard to the butterflies in my stomach. She handed me her headphones and suggested I calm down with some music. It was a  cassette of New Wave music, most of which I had never heard before. I became obsessed with music after that.

And it started the growing differences between myself and the people that I chose for friends up to that point. I took two terms of Forensics. My best friends could only handle one. They went to vocational school and I stuck around plying my talents surrounded by people of a like mind. Like I said, Eileen and I were not hang out after school kind of friends. But as we progressed through the terms and each got closer to the graduation goals our classes were smaller and more intimate. And that meant that we were there for one thing... to move forward with our life choices. We were not competing for anything. So in those classes there was more encourament & supprt. And of all among us, I remember Eileen and Bob being the cheerleaders.

So how was the book? I won a copy of Do or Di. It is definately a young adult novel. No vampires or werewolves. Sorry. But a really sound story about finding yourself and dealing with the choices that you make.The main character finds herself having a grab at the brass ring in her chosen field while her personal choices threaten to tarnish it. In the end she triumphs over herself.

The cast of supporting charactersalso illustrates a very important life lesson: Be comfortable with yourself. The quirky teen has no angst about who she is, she is simply navigating the system. And none of the other characters make apologies for who they are.

Eileen is good about avoiding tired cliches and making accurate metaphors to describe what the main character is thinking. I found myself laughing a lot. I got to the end of the book and thought to myself: this is exactly the non-judgemental thing that I needed to hear right now. It was refreshing and encouraging. But most of all.... inspiring.

But you don't have to take my word for it.*








*Happy Birthday LeVar Burton.

Love Lessons in the Sand

Romance. It is not the same as love. The pet names are great if somewhat nauseating in mega doses. The concept of there being an "our song" is rather artificial, my guess is a product of WWII if not the first one. Wine, roses, chocolate and that frivolously overdone card the screams I love you in a technicolour hue of glitter or flocking.. it is all a nice. It leaves one with a warm fuzzy feeling for all of the very special day of February 14th. But those things are not love.

Romance is being swept off your feet. Love is having the wind knocked out of you by a kindness that you do not expect.

Romance is fleeting and it fades. Love grows with time and it glows.

Love is patient, kind, it does not envy, boast, and is not proud.
Love does not dishonor others nor is it self seeking.
Love does is not quick to anger.
Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Love delights in the truth.
Love always protects, trusts, hopes and perseveres.

Yes this sounds suspiciously similar to I Corinthians in the Christian Bible. That is because it is. And I do not oft quote the thing because it has been so easily used to manipulate people. And right after it has all these wonderful things to say about love it turns right around and does some mild bashing that looks, to me, like an introduction to Sharia law. So I do not often quote. But with Valentines around the corner, it is worth considering the concept of love and romance.

And I think it is worth picking apart those things that love is.

Love is patient. Let's not assume we know that that means. dictionary.com says that patience bears provocation, annoyance, misfortune and pain without complaint. Or the loss of temper, manner, and without irritation. Hmmmm.... I think the key for me is the loss of temper. Romantic love or, at the very least, an immature love, gets annoyed when things don't go as planned. I can think of a multitude of romantic comedy drama queens who fly off the handle when the man doesn't get to the dinner on time. Can't she be happy that he showed up and was not involved in a car wreck or triple homicide? No.
Real love is relieved when an upsetting situation rectifies itself.

In other words if you are constantly irritated and annoyed with your partner you should be asking yourself if that is the right partner for you. Why? Because your love is not covering a multitude of that persons sins.

Love is kind. What is kindness? It could mean similarity. As in of "a like" or a "same"-ness. It could mean friendly. Romance is kind to a point. In a tit for tat way there is kindness. I give you a valentine. You give me a valentine. That was fine in school. In the adult world, Romance offers "a lovely candlelit dinner for some kind of sexual favor to be named". Romantic love is almost always conditional. Kindness is not. Love is not. Love does for another what we recognize we would like done for us. And love makes it effortless. Romance is all effort. And thus I think is easily annoyed when the effort is not met with expected reactions. But I may be ahead of my case there.

Love makes dinner even when all it wants to do is sit down and put its feet up. Love rubs out the knots and cares of a work day rather than abandons one to their own devices. Love lets someone sleep in instead of insisting that person maintain a schedule that is not their own. Love gives with wisdom. Romance goes into debt. Love is a cold soda on a hot day. Love is a gentle hand squeeze in a moment of frustration. And it takes effort.

This is also where listening shows love. If your partner doesn't like liver, don't make them eat liver to show them they are missing out. It is not a partner's job to overcome long held prejudices against food. Or fear. There is a lot that we  can let slide as partners that we don't because we think that we know what is best for them. And that is a horrible trap to fall into. You've got a partner begging to be heard when they say that something is disagreeable or frightening while the other partner is attempting to correct a perceived defect. This can not end well. The one who is not heard suddenly stops communicating. The one who is correcting is redoubling efforts to see progress and the relationship is no longer a meeting of the minds & heart but yet another lesson is someone not measuring up.

Yes. I saw this at home. I see it happening at work too. A lot of people get comfy in a hotel or restaurant and forget that the rest of us can see what is going on and hear the pain. I've had it happen in relationships myself. I'll kill your spider if you don't make me climb a ladder. But how many people want to "cure" the fear of heights while their fears require respectful distance? Right. We all do this to some degree. We all want everyone to be free of fear and to live with wild abandon. But ya know.... I'm fine if other people want to be on ladders. I'm fine if other people don't want candles because they don't like fire. The world is not going to fly off its orbit just because some people won't go near water. So I try really hard not to force someone into overcoming something that they need not be afraid of. That is kind.

Oh yes. There is self assurance and independence but that is a whole different topic. The "I can't"s get me too. But there are a lot of things that we can let go of that for some reason we like to pick on in relationships. And we all need to stop doing that if we want love to be more than fleeting romance.


Love does not boast. It is hard to think of boasting as a condition of relationship. But give it a moment. How many people do you know with trophy relationships? The hot girl or hot guy that they can not wait to take to a party? Romance will replace that person when someone hotter comes along. Or worse, won't give that hottie the time of day if there isn't a crowd to show him/her off in front of. But boasting also comes into play in other ways. Are you embarrassed by how little money or not prestigious the job your partner has? Do their setbacks make you cringe on the inside? Are you more concerned with how your partner looks when you go out? Are you transferring your perceptions of your partner onto others?

Love wants you to be safe, even if you are late for work. Love knows setbacks are temporary. And love knows that one persons setback is not a blemish on the other. Love doesn't care if you are in jeans or a dress but it does care if you are comfortable. Romance is all about what the other person brings to your table. Romance adorns its ego with someone else. And if that other person is not close enough to perfect that person will be replaced.

Yes, love always wants you to be  the best person you can be because that will make you happy. In turn your happiness makes a happy relationship because it isn't all tears and complaining. Love cares about how you look to yourself not how you make the other person look.


Love is not proud. I know pastors Nick and Bud had many profound things to say about pride and love. But I will be danged if I can remember them. And my own initial opinion is that it is a lot like boasting. When you look at pride versus bragging the picture gets clearer. Prideful people have a whole passle of things that they are too good for. Some people are too good to take out their own trash, let alone someone elses. Some people are too good to eat peasant food (I'm a bit guilty of this myself. And I KNOW peasant food is the best!) Some people won't eat below a champagne and  caviar pay scale. Or are just too good to be with somone who doesn't live in a McMansion, doesn't drive a Hybrid etc... In that way those proud little peacocks use their relationships as a form of adornment as well. But really their standards for looking for a mate are set so high that no one will manage to fit the bill.

Romance doesn't eat out of a crock pot while Love, if it is all there is, will eat from an alluminum foil packet on an engine manifold. What is it in your relationship that you are too good for? And justifying the opinion that you do not have to do something for someone because they are well/whole enough or able to do so for themslves is a kind of pride too. It compares you to them. Love is not about "if I can do it then you have no reason not to." Love does "just because" since it is kind to relieve someone of a burden or a task once in a while. "Your arm ain't broke." is not love.

Love does not dishonor nor is it self-seeking. With the work I am doing in therapy with boundaries and such, I'd have to say this is where boundaries fall in the scheme of Corinthians. I take it to mean something similar to being respectful or having awareness. For instance, repsecting a persons need to work and the demands that places on their time; their need to care for themselves with sleep, chores, bills etc. Being mindful of the things that the individual does as part of who they are... for me that is time for art. The self-seeking part of the statement has me hearing "Pay Attention To Me!" in my head. I had a friend like that many moons ago. I thought that we were great friends because we enjoyed so many activities together. But really he just wanted me to pay attention to him. He was always at my work, dropped by my house all hours of the night and day to tell me his woes... I thought it was love to listen. But nothing about that relationship was respectful. When I needed something from him he was always too busy.

And if we look back at the dictionary we see the words reproach and shame making an appearance. Translation? Love does not find fault. Romance is always nitpicking someone to death because the slightest deviation from the "romantic picture" is an insult to the portrait of love they have in their mind. Love doesn't care if you drop something on the floor. But it does get concerned when your car looks like it could have a trash compactor monster swimming around your feet. Love wants to know why you think a thing and that you are okay rather than to tell you that your thinking is wrong. Thoughts go wrong. Perceptions get a little wonky with repeated upsets. Love wants to know how it can help you. It wants you to lead the discussion. When love isn't present you are left with someone whos is always trying to tell you how wrong you are. I find nothing honorable in that.

Dictionary also likes the minor definition of rape or seduction as meaning to dishonor. The Bible is full of that as is Shakespearean lore. Someone dishonored someone's sister/mother/wife/mistress when the man of the house wasn't looking. Rape is rape. We all know there is nothing noble or honest in it so there is no need to discuss. But what about seduction? Sweet nothings. Is that love? Or is that romance? Hellooooo..... it is all Romance. The words dipped in 3 flavors of chocolate dangled like a large strawberry in front of a woman's lips do no one honor. The fruit of seduction looks good. It smells good... but it is riddled with those little seeds that get under your gums. You will be picking those bits out of your teeth long after your bed has grown cold just like you will be picking his words out of your ears long after he has moved onto another target. Romantic seduction is the ultimate in self-seeking behavior.

But where both sexes go wrong without meaning to is in the way in which I have most recently been guilty of unlovong behavior. To love one man (or woman) and  to bed another. Self seeking is to go looking for what you want from whomever will give it when the one who is supposed to be your partner is either incapable or unwilling to give it. If this is happening it is best to break up and go look elsewhere. Things get messy and unnecessarily complicated when you don't. And here we have the issue of settling. If you love someone who won't love you back it is neither smart nor fair to look for someone else to fill the void. That is self seeking. Wait until you have grieved the loss of the one who won't be before you look for the one who wants to be.

Love is not quick to anger. Do I need to comment? No. Will I? Yes. If you are flying off the handle when engaged in relationship behavior with your partner it is time for you to back off. That is YOU. It is not him. It is not her. It is YOU. YOUR temper is ruled by YOUR emotions. And it is not love.

Love keeps no record of wrongs. Nor does it keep a running tab of investments made in the relationship. Oh man! Does that annoy me. My mother was one of those people who measured every one by their bottom line (Which she had no right to know) and the quality of a relationship by what she got out of it. And I seem to have found several people who fit that category. Remember in Ever After, how Angelica Houston's character tried to play the guilt card at breakfast?

"All I've done. All I do to keep..."

blah blah blah blah blah.... exactly. With that and the running list of things that a person has done "wrong" during the time spent together and you have one heck of a relationship killing meteor headed your way. The person who starts the fault finding and meets no resistence just keeps piling on the list. And pretty soon one or two "faults' here and there is a steady stream. I've been in one of those relationships which make me wonder why the hell the guy even wants me. I've seen boys do it to my sister. I've seen my brother do it to women he has dated. Lest we think this is a male bashing entry, let me point out that the ladies can be the meanest of all nit-pickers. I've seen a lot of women in nit-picking mode see that moment when their victim breaks and just keep going.

Never seen it? Look at someone who is being nit-picked next time you are in a resteraunt (why this happens over a public meal is a mystery to me). The nit-picker is intense. The victim usually is actively listening to the dreck their are being fed regarding their poorer qualites. Then the picker hits on something too close to the bone. There is a flash of recognition; eyelids fly open, eyebrows arch ever so slightly and the shoulders droop. The victim makes eyecontact and you can see that there are tears close to spilling over. Then the kill shot. The victim will not look up from the table for the rest of the meal. And if their was anything slightly animated in the conversation it will stop.

At that point though, it is done. Once the fault finding has gotten to that point the good that is done will cease to be counted by the nit-picker. And the victim there then views their good as feeble, or mediocre at best.

Delighting in the truth. I think this is where Paul was talking about the church and God and not really about interpersonal relationships. If it is pertinent, I do not know how. Unless it is in the personal truth of who some one is. The intrinsic self. Or maybe, now that my brain is ticking away on topic, maybe the only truth that we need be delighted in is this: the person on the otherside of the meal table from you was fearfully and wonderfully made, forged in the fires of human passion and choking on the fumes of selfish rage*.... just like you.

Love protects. It does not attack. Physically, mentally, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually, sexually or financially.

Love sees a boundary and knows it is there for a reason. To protect and serve. Love joins forces with a boundary it does not go get a battering ram to bring down the fortress when all it has to do is wait... or use the back door.

Love trusts. It doesn't tell you that you will go off and find someone else. Love does not tell you that you will probably cheat on it. Love does not ask you to remind it of why you love it. Love does not want you to reaffirm your committment everytime you pee. Love trusts that you will love all the while that you are being loved.

Love doesn't read journals without invite. Love does not solicit information from third party sources. Love does not do the late night drive by on a mission to find strange cars or no cars in the driveway. Love does not hide itself. It says what it needs to say and trusts that was the right thing to do.

Love trusts a partner to make his/her own choices. Romance controls.

Love hopes. It does not give up on you because you are having a bad day, week, month or even a year**
Love doesn't take a break while you are having a crisis. Love will let you have some space to gather yourself & it will ask for space when it has fallen into unhealthy behavior and needs the space too. But it doesn't stop being love.

And yes there is a difference between space and break. A break means that you have to cut all ties and not consider yourselves to be together. A break is a separation. Space is about time. It is about knowing that this thing in your life is too overwhelming and you need to do some healthy things for you that your partner can not participate in. When your partner is contributing to the issue and you need to have some space thet is not breaking up. That is getting distance so that both of you can see better, its a way to sharpen perception. Romance finds that insulting. Love says "Whoa why hit the brakes so hard?" & then investigates. Space making is good. Break taking can be good but we all know it usually is the end.

Love doesn't take a break when it is in crisis. Love hopes that the end will come and hopes that the end will be soon. That is the end of a crisis will be soon. Love hopes that there is always time. Love hopes that there is always forgiveness. And love is right in that hope because it is quick to forgive. Romance is not tough enough to wait out a crisis because it was always a flimsy shadow of the real thing.

Love perseveres. Love maintains its purpose inspite of difficulty, discouragement and obstacles. Love bolsters flagging faith. Love sustains and upholds another in the face of weakness.That means it doesn't take a break when  things get rough. It doesn't wait for you to clean up your act so that you can revisit the idea of the relationship. Love will reset itself when it sees something unhealthy is happening. Love will step back, like a parent letting go of the bike the first time out without the training wheels. But it doesn't go hang out with the kids who already know how to ride. Loves sits with you when you are sick if that is what you need. Love waits. In the waiting Love is prepared to wait forever while it hopes that it will be only a little while.

By my rather long dissertation, it sounds like Love is nothing but hard work. It is hard work. But the absolute best thing about it is that none of that work feels like work or a waste of time when it is done out of love. Love is a partly a perception that eases a person's burden. If you don't love someone then rubbing sore feet feels like a chore and a good excuse to lecture someone about being independent and capable. When you love someone that kindness feels like a present. And unlike a vacuum cleaner on Valentines day.... it won't be held against you in the court of popular opinion.

I know it sounds an awful lot like a rant. And maybe you would assume after reading this that I have a lot against being in relationships, that I am anti-Valentines day. I am not. This is simply a reminder to myself of what love is and isn't. There is a lot that I tend to do on the romance side that is devoid of love too. We all are like that from time to time. What I am really talking about here is balance & evaluation. When you look at the course of the relationships you are in and weigh it against what love is and what romance is over time then you can see if it is love or fiction. If it is fiction let it go. If it is love you can see where you go off track and you can fix it.

Most of you who follow me are pretty young still. And I think that this bears mentioning because I know that this doesn't get talked about. And I am not in any way shape or form sneaking in a lecture to inspire anyone to the Christian faith. THAT is not my job. I'm just sharing what I have learned so that the lessons stick with me better too. That this segment of the christian codex seems to work hand in hand with what I am learning from the very secular world of human psychology is mere coincidence.

I want you to be good to yourselves first. That way you will know what it is to be good to someone else. Sometimes that means you have a long period of singlehood between realtionships. That is okay too. It does make you better equipped to handle others. And really it is not so horrible a thing to be single. It does get lonely. But the lonely doesn't last forever.





*Thank you Rich Mullins
**Friends clap