The Velveteen Rabbit

Stumbled across this little gem yesterday.

the album version is really good, but i thought it would be nice to see them live.

Good arms, versus bad arms, will win hands down
they are built to hold and fit
look how far they go around

you don't need these now that you've found another pair
and the difference astounding, i should expect
except
leave the rest at arm's length
keep your naked flesh under your favorite dress
and leave the rest at arm's length
when they reach out, don't touch them, don't touch them

i decided this decision some six months ago
so i'll stick to my guns, but from now on it's war
i am armed with the past, and the will, and a brick
i might not want you back, but i want to kill him

and leave the rest at arm's length
keep your naked flesh under your favorite dress
and leave the rest at arm's length
when they reach out, don't touch them, don't touch them

and leave the rest at arm's length
don't brush with him, he might have diseases
and leave the rest at arm's length
steer clear of the grasp, girl -- run, run, away

and leave the rest at arm's length
just roll over boy and don't make me do this
and leave the rest at arm's length
i am armed to the teeth and i'm heavy set
and leave the rest at arm's length
i'm not ready to see you this happy
and leave the rest at arm's length
i'm still in love with you (can't admit it yet)

-Frightened Rabbit

Good Arms vs. Bad Arms

My celebrity wife

Double Dream Feet

My choice for favorite dance move hovers imperceptibly between rubber legs, point, left foot (8 times), hitch hike, slide and clap, or point to your head...wait, yeah, i think the dance move, 'point-to-your-head' just won

---

He brings about my envy

My envy brings with her

My distaste - her love child,

Hateful of his own gain.

They froth together

and corrode my wisdom;

my inexperience is exposed.

Helplessness comes like a vulture

To feast on my exposed inexperience

My soft underbelly

Torn open by the sharp beak

My tears spill as entrails do

Where helplessness feasts, tearing

And ripping on soft inexperience.

What is the slave? How can my stomach

Be sewn up? My wisdom

Re-covering my inexperience? The hilt

Of my sword under my breastplate,

My armor, my wisdom, is also a weapon.

My sword is foresight, that the eyes which see

Are too fated to become dust.

This mind which thinks, to become soil.

It is not enough comfort!

Who is that? Who cries weakness

So boldly in my ear?

Hey, Jude

The Father of Tragedy

Destiny cannot be sidestepped.

Her sword

Has gone through me twice.

I am bowed. I accept it.

-Aeschylus

Beauty & The Beast

A woman did all this. One woman.

They call her Helen - that was a prophecy.

Helen the Destroyer.

Not a name but a title.

The bride of the spear's broad blade.

Helen the homicidal.

Epidemic fury

That would possess nations.

Not a face or name but a poison

To send whole fleets to perdition

As if their captains were madmen -

Chewing and spitting her name -

Helen. The name Helen

Not so much a name as an earthquake

To bounce a city to burning rubble.

Not a name but a plague.

Spreading scream by scream from city to city,

As houses become tombs.

-Aeschylus

Sun, shine.

Cascades of spiraling magnetic loops observed in extreme ultraviolet light by SD) (Solar Dynamics Observatory) danced and twisted above an active region on the Sun (April 3-5, 2011). These loops are charged particles spinning along the magnetic field lines, and thus visually revealing them. The bright active region was fairly strong and the activity persistent, though not explosive. At one point darker plasma can be seen being pulled back and forth across the region's center

via [Universe Today]

Marry Me

So Indian Movies.

Let's get started on these.
My family is knee deep in this.
Both Grandmothers, Grandfather on Fathers side, and most recently - my brother (like this page).

Literally, yesterday, this page had 2K followers - so it's growing fast.

In any event.

Love is a giant theme.

You literally have no idea.

Watch Indian movies at every meal for the first 10 years of your life and you'll get some idea - and I am personally pretty westernized!

Moving on.

With the overt Victorian dance around explicit sexuality (obviously highlighting it, as the theory goes) - the morality of marriage becomes pretty strong. Of course the actual evolution of marriage as an institution and then a moral ethic is an interesting chart to plot, however my purposed here are different.

Indoctrinated with the idea of marriage - spurned further in my later years by the ethics of my Catholicism - the proposal became something I fantasied about like a little girl - and I can say comfortably now, like a little boy.

So if you know me for sometime, or read my blog, that comes up.

Today, seriously, dude, check this proposal idea out.

say whaaaat

It's amazing how time takes everything away.
I wonder sometimes how I'd be faced with death.
I wonder how that would change when I considered my children. I can even say a wife. For one of the first times in life I was on a plane in February and I didn't want it to crash.
Wait, let me back up a little more.

Since I was about sixteen the propensity for negativity overtook me like a Greek God. I will learn who it was as I learn more about the culture over the next two months or so. As time has gone on, the gray of dissonance has given way to the black of suicide. Only the idea of it. Carrying that idea around for nearly a decade however is a feat I wish upon none.

The movement to, which we may call 'acceptance of' positivity lately - aided by the awareness of vernacular - has brought into a stark juxtaposition the trance that held me for about, or over ten years.

This is partially what is meant by a sun rising - this is the 'sun' portion of that esoteric, tongue and cheek, joy to speak.

A few months back late into the new winter of 2010 when I again was stricken of fantasies of suicide - nearly always a shotgun blast through the dome, bones and brains and lifeblood my last painting for the world - the image of my lovers face came to me. I was relatively joyful at the time (relative to my decade of negativity presumably may be safe to say) - this was literally a fantasy which gnashed on my spirit for almost 12 years! Alive by passive submission, versus conscious election!

It translated into all things - for instance, the above example of riding planes and smiling at the prospect of a collision or a crash (it's no wonder Fight Club resonated...or at least aided in this fantasy - ha!) - but I may be light about this now for the joy of what I am, seen against the darkness of what I thought I was.

I was striken with this fantasy - this fear bringing sadness, embodied in corrupted thought - and I saw my dear Andrea's face as if she was to walk in on my mangled remains in my downstairs restroom. For the first time to this fantasy, I teared up and could have cried should I have wanted to; and wanted the demon, the corrupted Greek god, the twisted and fear based gnashing of spirit - gone.

I have had many wonderful women love me - wait, let me say - wonderful women have loved me, and I really thank God for allowing me the opportunity to be with them in our time - this reaction as I had to this old sickness in me however, I reacted to this later in life, and it was the horror on the imagined Andrea's face which brought me to conscious aversion to this passive submission.

I am blessed to feel loved - certainly I may have been loved, for I felt as if I myself have loved in the past as well - currently however, I feel loved, and know it from the ancillary reactions and behaviors it has brought on. It is a very remarkable thing. One to which I am more open because it is very clear that this is not of my doing.

Ancillary means like really enjoying keeping a steady supply of foods I know she like's (to name a very simple example) - making sure the bananas and yogurt stay kept up.

Years ago I saw a friend say of his new bride, "She pretty much saved my life" - I desired this, now, I will have it.

The sun rises, and shines where it wishes...

Today is a familiar day, today is an old friend, I am literally spilling out, spilling out, spilling out.

I have a meeting to attend.
More, will certainly follow.

I've finally

blogged long enough to have some record.
I think what will be of this when the world ends?
How will future civilizations see what our time of expanse and growth in culture and habit afforded us? Will hard drives always be read? Google's servers stand forever tall?
That's what's so neat about the level of time I put into my work here - it's fleeting, and is seemingly more fleeting than the countless (actually 27) journals I've kept over more than the last decade.
It's an interesting place of expression too. Often an organic growth, sometimes a regurgitation of something I've seen. That being said we may also use another quote in my safety net of quotes (what catches me as I let go of my trapeze and sink through the air with my thoughts) - "Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy" - Phalniuk
He also said it another way, "We are all a 100 generations away from an original thought" -- of course the more classical version of the same truth is Newton's eternally standing quote - "I stand on the shoulders of Giants"

The way i write here differs some from my text, it's faster, more careless - though careless in a different way - a unique way, something recreating away from a keyboard does not have.
I also think it's a neat way to express thoughts because you can choose videos and other visuals to aide your expression. It's a very unique form of expression, this 'blogging'

And a lot of time has gone in over the last 'night' (my sun rises see!)

It is a great repository for me to speedily access the information I desire shared at the time. Like my Rumi poems, or the thoughts I had near the end of 2009.

Sometimes I want to record this record - print and save - kill trees that I may have a tangible memory to pass my children and great grand children and great great grandchildren. Maybe I'll write something which will emerge important in 1000 years? Like the Greeks? Or like the library of Alexandria, will I be burned in another's war? My wisdom hidden? Is it wiser to plant a peach tree and tend it for my offspring and their offspring to learn to care for the earth and have good fruit? Do the servers take more energy from the planet that paper? The last question I believe will be quantified - or has been.

I sometimes look at everything - everything - and see it as particles shifting out of time - turning to sand and dust - I see the eyes I see with becoming grains and decomposing.

Everything makes sense then.

Here's a post only a blog can bring easily.
From back when, when there were stars, and I was a moon and a planet.
Click here my fellow passers by

With love,
The rising Sun.

On German Travel

Come

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth
That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,
Causing the world to weep

-Rumi

How will you create the universe?

Do tell.

My love,

If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,
Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,
Like this?

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God's fragrance" means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.
Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.
Like this?

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don't try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.
Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means
to "die for love," point
here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.
This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.
When someone doesn't believe that,
walk back into my house.
Like this.

When lovers moan,
they're telling our story.
Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.
Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.
Like this.

How did Joseph's scent come to Jacob?
Huuuu.

How did Jacob's sight return?
Huuuuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.
Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,
he'll put just his head around the edge
of the door to surprise us.
Like this.

-Rumi, 'Like This'