Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Music moves and Dance inspires.
(although this isn't the band i reference below, i happen to love this song by Temper Trap!)
it's been a while since i've been to a concert. this one, while not the most recent concert i've enjoyed, is one that i thought was quite fun. it was impromptu; we (my friend & i) managed to conjure up some sort of plan to get my other friends to go out with us and what we would do, and we wanted to snag some last minute tickets. we found them online, scored two sets of general admission tickets to Ghostland Observatory, and then decided to meet up at Second Bar & Kitchen in Austin, TX. it's a fantastic place for food and drinks, and we all loved it!
this was over a year ago, but i'm recalling it now, remembering fondly how we liked the music, the lights, the sound. it was loud, and we liked it loud.
see mostly, i listen to music a bit below my volume threshold. but when i'm at a concert, sometimes i'm inspired to listen things in a different way. yet this isn't the only thing that the music can inspire.
music inspires people to write songs, stories, poems; inspires others to paint, or create, or destroy. music inspires us to form new memories, reminisce on old times passed by, and gives us resolve to never think about some things again. memories can inspire us to dance, remember current or past love, and even start to love again. Ghostland Observatory just may have, in the moment, inspired me to start a new dance, move to a rhythm once again that i move to not often enough. this music, for this night- with its pulsing and lights, with its voice and its beat - created a space to be free. and right then, that was just the melody to fill a certain need.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
So, you actually did send lewd messages and illicit pictures of yourself to a multitude of women, and then run for mayor, expecting that the people of New York City will vote for you to represent them?
Wait, and you're married?
Wait, and you're married?
I'd say, this leads to the question ''why?'' that is part of a larger question, one that envelops the issue of responsibility and accountability.
Firstly, if you expect to run for political office (or any type of leadership/teacher/etc. position), you are, sorry to say, held to a much higher standard of conduct and behavior than ordinary individuals. This means, those leading our society are more accountable for their actions and held to that. With power comes responsibility.
Second, some might say, "who cares what you do with your time, or in your personal life." Well in response, one could more reasonably say, "When did it become okay to essentially flaunt oneself in public display, and bombard others with things they may not be okay with seeing? When did it become okay to send unwarranted, unwelcome pictures to someone and thus harass them?" For some, this could mean seeing things they've never voluntarily seen. People are already exposed to images even in public they may not want. Sending them right to someone is putting their wants second to yours. Get permission first! (Maybe get permission from your Wife as well! I'm sure she's not happy about this, seeing as how she left you once already when it was discovered you've done this before and you had to resign from Congress for doing the Same things!)."
Now, while we must not judge people without first judging ourselves, we Can expect certain accountability; we can also judge continued Actions, if not the person. While I'm sure there are other qualities that may be redeeming about you, really? IF you're okay with being a married man who essentially is disloyal to your wife, and gets sexual satisfaction in the dark from other women or interactions with other women: You're not Trustworthy. That transfers, no doubt, into any area where you might not want to perform as you're expected to (say, political office), if you don't want to. You can't be trusted to do what's right in either realm, and hold yourself to a higher standard. You're not even presenting a case of being ashamed or regretful. Well, how can you be? This isn't the first time, and once discovered, you have not been moved to change. This is After already resigning from office (Congress) and now running for office again (and repeating the behavior). People forgive mistakes, or wrongs done, and if there's true repentance, then it's a lesson learned. However, given the case, you have seemed to go on seemingly not remorseful. Yet this world has so many others conducting themselves in a likewise manner, unfortunately (hurting others to no regret).
To conclude, I suggest counseling! It is selfish behavior, to worship your own wants and desires, thus neglecting the oath you made to your wife. What then stops you from doing the same with the people of NYC?! If you have no problem denying basic respect and honor to the person you supposedly love most, then what would prevent you from denying the same to your citizens that you would represent?! I say no. You didn't make a mistake and stop. You continue. Furthermore, you don't think it's that bad. What's worse? The more people that do the same, and propagate the notion that it's okay to get what you want regardless of who you hurt, the more our society is threatened. There is a higher morality, and right and wrong aren't subjective! We all make mistakes; we alone are responsible for them. Fix your mistakes. Then try to run for office. You are accountable to your wife. You have shamed her, even now publicly. That is an atrocity.
Friday, July 19, 2013
"No one's special. You're only unique. You don't see anyone in a car riding around with a big crown and throne, do you? No one deserves to be treated better than anyone else."
"Well, if you're tired, why don't you take a nap?"
...about what abstract art is (his guess):
"so, abstract art is like art that isn't a person, place, or thing?"
"so, abstract art is like art that isn't a person, place, or thing?"
I look up a 3rd explanation (in addition to mine and his), per dictionary.com, and it's basically 'what he said':
[art that does not attempt to represent external, recognizable reality - ie. no persons, places, or things]
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Kindly he asks why. Sweetly she answers, then calmly he accepts and responds. Or so it should be.
What really happens when we see people who have conflict or conversely, have that love that is blind? How can love be blind? Does it only happen in the puppy love stage, when the relationship is new? What about in other types of relationships? Can love be blind, and if so, how can this be done?
Some people may ask, "how can I be blind to the horribleness that is/comes from my spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend? What about even my mother/child/friend..." The list goes on.
Let's start here with the significant others, for the sake of time.
The real situation might go somewhat like this:
She makes a decision he thinks is irrational or emotionally based, and he disapproves. He thinks he knows why she did it, and he will help her see why it's wrong. He asks her what she was thinking. She in return hears his disapproval, and feels he's hostile towards her. She answers that she doesn't know, even though had she not been thrown off guard and felt bad, she would have had an answer. He gets irritated at how she can't even explain what she was thinking, and proceeds to tell her what was wrong, why, and what she should do differently next time. She in return, feeling slighted, remarks on how rude he is, and how he never approves of her. He says she exaggerates, that is absurd, and he's not going to start listening to this again. She gets upset and tells him to get away from her, and she angrily hisses at him some other additional words.
Time goes by, and the instances are more constant and look all the same. Repeat situations with repeat outcomes, and pretty soon all she can see is how mean and insensitive he is, and all he sees is how angry and senseless she is. They both have two eyes, and they see clearly what's wrong with the other. Their love isn't blind, even if their eyes are partial to dark.
The situation might also go somewhat like this:
She makes a decision that he doesn't understand, and towards which he immediately feels aversion.
He then realizes he is with a woman he admires (admired), and in general makes very good decisions. He gives her the benefit of the doubt, and ask her why she decided that way. Before asking, he states that while he usually agrees with her decisions, this one has surprised him, and he's curious what reason she had behind this particular one. He asks her to tell her a little more about it.
She feels comfortable answering his questions, and he echoes back what he hears. While he may not agree or would not have come to the same conclusion or decision, he shows he understands her choice and what led to it. She asks what he thinks about it, and what he might have done. He tells her. She appreciates his honesty and even considers his opinion for next time. He feels his input has value. She feels loved.
Afterwards, he has no negative regard, and she doesn't feel angry.
They see the best in each other by choosing to stop looking at the negative, and see the better in the person they know the other person to be. Love can be blind, by choosing to poke out your own eye, if necessary (and not literally), so that you don't concentrate on the bad. You can have one eye for looking, but use the blind eye for seeing. You choose what to see, and focus on. And many times, that image doesn't take seeing. It takes belief.
Believe in the person you know that significant person in your life to be. Remind them of who they are. (This doesn't mean don't live in reality, but rather make choices to encourage change by focusing on the small areas that are possible, so that maybe they can do the same.)
Good luck. I hope we can all walk around partially-sighted, if that's what it takes to have balanced vision, feel loved, be loving, and encourage love.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
She comes in swankily, hips oscillating as she forms a smile and places her right hand on her hip. She gives us all a wink as she runs her left hand through her hair slowly, and her soft dark curls tumble over her shoulders. She's Melanie, from LA, and she's on a mission.
Melanie's friends don't know her very well, and she knows them even less. They have so much fun, and she's the least confrontational person they all know. This isn't to say she doesn't get angry, it's just not in public that it happens; she subs sexy for snappy, and saves the scream for rooms for two.
I met Melanie at a party, and she met me the time after, at our friend Jack's BBQ. (She doesn't remember meeting me the first time.) Melanie, to me, seemed so graceful, and restrained. She had a silky voice and seemed to know everyone, her mouth spilling flattery sweeter and priced higher than the most glorious treats from the delicatessen. I myself even took pleasure in how she flattered me. I never knew just how my stomach word hurt in just six short months, when I consumed too many of those sugary words; the effects of malnutrition at the hands of a glutton and its finest master. Because even a frog doesn't leap from a boiling pot when it doesn't see what's coming; that's when I first started to learn: people wear faces, and knowing which face is their real one is key. When I saw myself with my own flaws, I realized its a finer process of introspection and careful tuning, to get to that place of being real; it may be easier to be the right part of a person with different people, but its best to be yourself refined (at different exposures or intensities depending on the place). Most of all, having one face is better than two.
Fast forward two months. Jack is really ticking me off. He's talking about how fake he thinks Melanie is, and how he's known me for so long, and he can't believe how much I eat up everything she says. He thinks I'm naive, and that Melanie probably isn't just singing sultry slurs against everyone else; she probably has songs written with me as the headliner too. I say I doubt it; it's different; we just have have a vibe. He's wrong, and frankly, he's jealous that his two friends are better friends now than they are with him! He's notlooking after me; he's built his ship and he can go sailing off by himself! Plus, how can he sit me down and tell me he how much he cares, and then say how he's disappointed in my behavior?! He's supposed to be my friend, and friends don't say their versions of truths that you won't like! Or do they? Might they? Wherever. The heck with Jack. Make me feel good or we'll make like you're gone.
Fast forward six months. Melanie is later than ever, and I wait. She's going to be ready in five, she says, and she'll be right down, so I drove over. Then I waited, by the gate, with that security guard that always seems to be snarling at me, with his vulgar stare that just irks me. That guard knows something, but I'm not sure what. Ugh. Psycho.
I don't remember when I started using that word, but it seems to fit. I've been chilling with Melanie and her friend Jessica more often than I used to since realizing my other friends are boring and have no taste for fun. Right now, I realize just how right they are, just how creepy that guy is, and I give him a snarl back. I have a tiny twinge of what might be guilt, from some inkling of what used to be conviction, and I dismiss it. A twinkle of charm, a bit of excitement, a flurry of satisfaction, and I'm spurred on and ready to roll. The temporary fullness of self-adoration and selfishness hits my gut, and yet somehow I'm hungry for more to keep me going.
Melanie comes down, finally, after what seems like eternity, and she opens the door. First thing she says, "OMG, what are you wearing anyway?! You know we're going to Jessica's party right? You can't look like a troll!"
Twenty minutes later, we're on our way. I've been transformed; she's covered my face with pretty paste, and my skirt is shorter than the length of my forearm. I wearing stilts of seduction, and I feel power in my knees.
Jessica really isn't that nice, and she's snarled ever since I met her. But she knows the best guys, and I feel like she doesn't truly like a single one of them any more than she does her daytime friends.
We party hard, and it's soooooo good! That's before it happen, when I discover it takes a long time to know someone who wears more than one face. Yet, she knew me. She liked me, as much as she likes or doesn't like anyone, because he knew who I was, and what she could do. She saw I was who I was, and even though I wasn't always the most polished, I was true, and dependable. What she could depend on, was my reaction to what would unfold very soon.
We had come into the party ten minutes later than Melanie had preferred and as she hissed at me how stupid I was sometimes, she smiled and played cute for everyone she saw. Even as she condemned me, she was so gloriously golden, and as she hit the room she took it. We loved her, how you love your favorite jacket, and we wore her wherever we went.
Charles came over as we entered, and he said how lovely we looked. Melanie turns as looks at me, and says, " yeah, she always does doesn't she? She's such a lovely girl..." She smiles, and she shoots me a nasty look, as he smiles at her. He's wanted Melanie for a long time. She can't stand him, but she loves the fact he knows a producer she adores. She lets him stick around.
A few minutes later we've separated a bit, and Melanie puts on her cute face, when she snuggles next to Jim and Heather, who own the huge house next door.
I'm talking to Jazzy, and I realize I've accidentally been to honest, and I backtrack. I say I'm sorry, that I didn't mean anything by it; that I just don't think before I speak. He says, not to worry about it, and relax, and we move on. I blushed a bit, but I know he's sincere, so it's all good. I found myself feeling like my old self again, having just said something honest that didn't impress, not that I said anything meanly, just not veiled with niceties. Yet, Jazzy didn't hate me, and moreover, he seemed impressed.
Then it happened.
Melanie's next to me, all of a sudden, but I don't see her. I only hear her voice, on the other side of the curtain, and she's hissing. Then all of a sudden I realize, and it hurts. "It's too bad she can't dress without my help, and she takes twenty minutes from my night. She just has always been slow, and she's not cute at all! She never knows her left from ugly or her right from wrong. I should really just stop letting her weigh me down. The only reason she's still allowed in my sight is because she's too boring to drink and I always need a ride."
I can't believe it; I've never heard her talk tawdry with the object of her annoyance being within earshot. She never looks bad. She's always careful. Yet, unbeknownst to her, I'm right there. I look at Jazzy, and he shrugs his shoulders in indifference or confusion. I wasn't sure which, but I didn't care.
I walk quickly around the curtain towards the door, feeling really low, and she sweetly whispers my name, and calls me over. "Lisset, where are you going? Do you feel Ill sweetie? We were just saying how wonderfully lovely you are tonight but you seem a bit under the weather. Maybe run down a bit? I feel like maybe we should leave early so you can get some beauty rest. Be back to the normal you, lovely and ready to party with the best!"
I don't answer her; I just walk out. Every other time Melanie has depended on me, I've given her what she counted on. Because I overheard her this time, it was the first time I've surprised her; the first time I've not been dependable. Who I am has changed. Rather than changing my faces it's like my face grew into something different, and it was pretty outside but ugly within.
Melanie had two faces, and I only saw the pretty, people-pleasing one for months. Then I saw her other one, but I didn't think she'd ever put it on in regards to me. I thought I made it different, that somehow the nice one was her real one and the stronger one was only there to keep the undeserving away.
Now I've come to see, that even though I may not possess the most effective way to appeal to everyone in one particular way, I can learn to adapt without sacrificing who I am. I've learned that having my face, and letting others get to know me, probably more quickly, is preferable to how long it takes playing by rules of proper and wearing faces of many people. Had Melanie worn only one face, I could've seen much sooner who she really was, and maybe stayed myself. Yet, I chose to forsake my friends, and believe in something else that looked better, and become like those I hung out with. We validated each other and it seemed okay. Now I know, being real is best (always working on getting better), and having one face is even better.
* not a story that happened to me, but a story that most have seen.