Tuesday, September 30, 2003
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In today's Washington Post, 50 Ways to Use Your Lover,
is about a new exhibition that opens tomorrow at the National Gallery - Picasso: The Cubist Portraits of Fernande Olivier
Even though I'm 3,000 miles away and will have to satisfy myself by ordering the show catalogue, excitement led me to googling so I could hopefully retrieve more information.
This is a show about process, not product. Love this. God I love this. The exploration, the false starts, the dead ends, and some glimmers appear to be encompassed in this show. For me, Picasso isn't the draw (although I am in awe of his work), but it's the chance to view something that is normally kept private, or destroyed.
How often do we get the opportunity to see the creative process in action? And isn't that what life is really about? Sometimes, I think, screw the final product. It can seriously hamper and paralyze an artist. Forget that. On the grander life scale, being glued to an end result is detrimental to humanity in general. Yes, goals are important. But don't get stuck there. Remain flexible, which involves the moment.
I'm so excited about this show that I'm having a difficult time writing coherently about it.
I don't agree with everything Blake Gopnik wrote, but it's still good.
Here are some quotes from the article. (His words are in italics)
"I cannot think of any other moment in the history of art where an artist has this much freedom, and has to decide all for himself what he should do with it. At any given instant in the careers of most other artists, you feel they've settled on a way to paint that's natural to them, at least for that moment."
Personally, I think that's bullshit. How can he make that statement about an artist's freedom? I feel the only reason it appears to be so is the fact that we have an opportunity to peer into the psyche of the artist with this exhibition. Most of the time, we see the culmination of the process. That's what hangs in galleries.
"As you look around the astounding variety of works on display in this show's three galleries -- all works made within at most 10 months -- you realize that Picasso isn't ever working in a style. He's inventing one from scratch, and doesn't know where he'll end up. He's not working toward cubism, or any other -ism for that matter. He's just working. Many of the objects in this exhibition feel like dead ends, or even simple failures. But taken all together, they're witness to a single grand experimental energy and process.
Picasso's method is clearly intuitive, but it's not about the kind of creative turmoil that myth credits to romantic figures like van Gogh or Jackson Pollock. It's more like the kind of intuition that fuels the scientific method, where researchers make inspired guesses about how things might work, and then try them out. In 1909 at least, Picasso is not the alchemist-magician that became his favorite pose; he's more like an eager young genius working long hours in the lab."
Hmmm...once again, is Gopnik saying this because he can see what's happening? Am I crazy or is his statement "...it's not about the kind of creative turmoil that myth credits to..." fallible? How can he compare reality with myth? What's up with that? Honestly, we really aren't privy to the private creative process of anyone. Even this show, which may give us greater insight, is one dimensional. We see the canvases. We will draw our conclusions from these paintings. Most of the process happens behind the canvas, in the body, spirit and mind of the artist.
But, I am sooo all for this show. I totally love the fact that we can experience a part of the journey. It doesn't happen enough.
And here is another link to a blurb about the show.
In today's Washington Post, 50 Ways to Use Your Lover,
is about a new exhibition that opens tomorrow at the National Gallery - Picasso: The Cubist Portraits of Fernande Olivier
Even though I'm 3,000 miles away and will have to satisfy myself by ordering the show catalogue, excitement led me to googling so I could hopefully retrieve more information.
This is a show about process, not product. Love this. God I love this. The exploration, the false starts, the dead ends, and some glimmers appear to be encompassed in this show. For me, Picasso isn't the draw (although I am in awe of his work), but it's the chance to view something that is normally kept private, or destroyed.
How often do we get the opportunity to see the creative process in action? And isn't that what life is really about? Sometimes, I think, screw the final product. It can seriously hamper and paralyze an artist. Forget that. On the grander life scale, being glued to an end result is detrimental to humanity in general. Yes, goals are important. But don't get stuck there. Remain flexible, which involves the moment.
I'm so excited about this show that I'm having a difficult time writing coherently about it.
I don't agree with everything Blake Gopnik wrote, but it's still good.
Here are some quotes from the article. (His words are in italics)
"I cannot think of any other moment in the history of art where an artist has this much freedom, and has to decide all for himself what he should do with it. At any given instant in the careers of most other artists, you feel they've settled on a way to paint that's natural to them, at least for that moment."
Personally, I think that's bullshit. How can he make that statement about an artist's freedom? I feel the only reason it appears to be so is the fact that we have an opportunity to peer into the psyche of the artist with this exhibition. Most of the time, we see the culmination of the process. That's what hangs in galleries.
"As you look around the astounding variety of works on display in this show's three galleries -- all works made within at most 10 months -- you realize that Picasso isn't ever working in a style. He's inventing one from scratch, and doesn't know where he'll end up. He's not working toward cubism, or any other -ism for that matter. He's just working. Many of the objects in this exhibition feel like dead ends, or even simple failures. But taken all together, they're witness to a single grand experimental energy and process.
Picasso's method is clearly intuitive, but it's not about the kind of creative turmoil that myth credits to romantic figures like van Gogh or Jackson Pollock. It's more like the kind of intuition that fuels the scientific method, where researchers make inspired guesses about how things might work, and then try them out. In 1909 at least, Picasso is not the alchemist-magician that became his favorite pose; he's more like an eager young genius working long hours in the lab."
Hmmm...once again, is Gopnik saying this because he can see what's happening? Am I crazy or is his statement "...it's not about the kind of creative turmoil that myth credits to..." fallible? How can he compare reality with myth? What's up with that? Honestly, we really aren't privy to the private creative process of anyone. Even this show, which may give us greater insight, is one dimensional. We see the canvases. We will draw our conclusions from these paintings. Most of the process happens behind the canvas, in the body, spirit and mind of the artist.
But, I am sooo all for this show. I totally love the fact that we can experience a part of the journey. It doesn't happen enough.
And here is another link to a blurb about the show.
Monday, September 29, 2003
Monday morning and I'm at work! I've been working Tuesday to Friday for the last year. Figured I'd switch and do Mon-Thursday for a while.
Stuff inside is still incredibly difficult. Hurt comes over me in tsunami type waves. And yet, I somehow miraculously still function throughout it and within it. Friday, after work, I stopped by to see Bear and wonderboy. Saturday I treated geekboy to the movies. And yesterday Sir and I attended another memorial service. That makes 4 in the last 8 months. For a while it was one a year, and now it's becoming more frequent. Sigh. It's not as bad as it used to be though. Sir would talk of a time, from '94-'96 where it was funeral after funeral. In that time frame He lost over 100 guys He knew.
After the memorial service we went to Septieme's for drinks, conversation and eye candy. It was about 5 pm, quite warm and sunny. We grabbed a table on the sidewalk. Tattoed Bear and a boy walked by. Stopped, groped and chatted. Then beautiful boy, sweet boy and grandfather troll don walked up. A mini party! After they left, bondage top and his partner saw us and joined our table. From there, we strolled down to another place for killer desserts. It was about 8 pm, getting dark and the torches were lit at their outdoor tables. The 4 of us sat and had intense discussions. We talked about pornography and how silly society attitude is, regarding sex. Bondage Top is a pornagrapher and he was sharing his latest ideas for work, desiring to push the envelope which would challenge current laws. We talked about how the majority of people are sheep and simply want to be told what to do. No critical thinking involved. We then likened their need for how they approach s/m education and drew similarities with religion and the bible. Apparently, we were pissing off a couple other tables with our opinions. Loved that. A group got up and walked away in a huff. I think it was the blasphemous act of talking about s/m with Jesus in the same sentence. Whatever.
You know those conversations that are food for the brain? It was all about theories and drawing conclusions, fully aware that we were bantering with opinions. Get 4 artists together....4 people who see sex as more than fucking or beating...and tie it into everything else. We spoke of The Berlin Stories, and the beginnings of what the pan community sees as s/m. We spoke of DeSade and how he's seen as an icon of sorts, when the guy was simply a demented sick fuck. How many people have we seen take on that name as part of their email, or screen name? All about context. You know, it always comes down to context. And people don't seem to see or care to understand that. What is right in one situation can be the worse possible thing in another.
We talked about the writings of Tony DeBlase, and Drummer and how those writings influenced others, and through these fantasies, the modern kinky community was born.
We spoke of the problems with the internet and it's relation to this mainstream bdsm society. The problems with language and definition....and folks appropriating words not knowing the actual meaning or history. Yeah, we went off on all. Nothing was held sacred. It's those type of conversations you can only have with intimates....folks you trust.
Yanno, it was one of those times where the company is perfect, the weather is perfect, the food and booze is perfect and the planets feel to be aligned....making for a juicy evening of mindblowing mindsex.
Give and take. Share and stretch. Push and pull.
Stuff inside is still incredibly difficult. Hurt comes over me in tsunami type waves. And yet, I somehow miraculously still function throughout it and within it. Friday, after work, I stopped by to see Bear and wonderboy. Saturday I treated geekboy to the movies. And yesterday Sir and I attended another memorial service. That makes 4 in the last 8 months. For a while it was one a year, and now it's becoming more frequent. Sigh. It's not as bad as it used to be though. Sir would talk of a time, from '94-'96 where it was funeral after funeral. In that time frame He lost over 100 guys He knew.
After the memorial service we went to Septieme's for drinks, conversation and eye candy. It was about 5 pm, quite warm and sunny. We grabbed a table on the sidewalk. Tattoed Bear and a boy walked by. Stopped, groped and chatted. Then beautiful boy, sweet boy and grandfather troll don walked up. A mini party! After they left, bondage top and his partner saw us and joined our table. From there, we strolled down to another place for killer desserts. It was about 8 pm, getting dark and the torches were lit at their outdoor tables. The 4 of us sat and had intense discussions. We talked about pornography and how silly society attitude is, regarding sex. Bondage Top is a pornagrapher and he was sharing his latest ideas for work, desiring to push the envelope which would challenge current laws. We talked about how the majority of people are sheep and simply want to be told what to do. No critical thinking involved. We then likened their need for how they approach s/m education and drew similarities with religion and the bible. Apparently, we were pissing off a couple other tables with our opinions. Loved that. A group got up and walked away in a huff. I think it was the blasphemous act of talking about s/m with Jesus in the same sentence. Whatever.
You know those conversations that are food for the brain? It was all about theories and drawing conclusions, fully aware that we were bantering with opinions. Get 4 artists together....4 people who see sex as more than fucking or beating...and tie it into everything else. We spoke of The Berlin Stories, and the beginnings of what the pan community sees as s/m. We spoke of DeSade and how he's seen as an icon of sorts, when the guy was simply a demented sick fuck. How many people have we seen take on that name as part of their email, or screen name? All about context. You know, it always comes down to context. And people don't seem to see or care to understand that. What is right in one situation can be the worse possible thing in another.
We talked about the writings of Tony DeBlase, and Drummer and how those writings influenced others, and through these fantasies, the modern kinky community was born.
We spoke of the problems with the internet and it's relation to this mainstream bdsm society. The problems with language and definition....and folks appropriating words not knowing the actual meaning or history. Yeah, we went off on all. Nothing was held sacred. It's those type of conversations you can only have with intimates....folks you trust.
Yanno, it was one of those times where the company is perfect, the weather is perfect, the food and booze is perfect and the planets feel to be aligned....making for a juicy evening of mindblowing mindsex.
Give and take. Share and stretch. Push and pull.
Sunday, September 28, 2003
So have you noticed I’ve been linking instead of writing?
Yeah, it’s been a few fuckin’ difficult days.
A realtor called me Friday regarding studio space. He has a studio that becomes available November 1st and mentioned east light windows. That’s a bonus because the train runs right along the east side of these buildings. Sound buffer!!!! Although a friend mentioned he’d never heard of train noise called that before. And the ceilings are at least 12 feet high. Hmmm…sounds like a place for suspension points. And he mentioned the rent was in my price range. Huh. I’m not sure what that means. Either he forgot what I was looking for pricewise, or it’s higher than my dollar limit and he figures by looking at it I’ll be sold anyway. Silly man. Or….maybe the rent is negotiable? I found it curious that he didn’t tell me the actual rent.
Anyway, I’m going to look at it on Tuesday afternoon. I’m jazzed. It’s across the street from an independent coffee shop and about a block away from this little Italian joint/ale house with lime green walls, cheap food and a retro look that’s not shiny new. Comfortable. Stella Pizza…in the process of changing it’s name to Stellar Pizza. (Hope that doesn’t mean a change of character). I’ve eaten there a few times and like the ambience. Gritty artists, grunge, punkouted kids, families and industrial workers eat side by side. Or sit at the bar, order a pitcher of beer and hit the pinball machines and the pool table in the other room. They showcase local art, changing it regularly.
Hopefully, this studio thing works out. I’m tight for cash, and really don’t have extra to put down a major deposit. Especially on two places (one to live, and one for art/fuck). We’ll see what happens. But I’m checking out all viable possibilities, and will attempt to negotiate if need be. I’ve done it in the past and it’s worked.
Yeah, it’s been a few fuckin’ difficult days.
A realtor called me Friday regarding studio space. He has a studio that becomes available November 1st and mentioned east light windows. That’s a bonus because the train runs right along the east side of these buildings. Sound buffer!!!! Although a friend mentioned he’d never heard of train noise called that before. And the ceilings are at least 12 feet high. Hmmm…sounds like a place for suspension points. And he mentioned the rent was in my price range. Huh. I’m not sure what that means. Either he forgot what I was looking for pricewise, or it’s higher than my dollar limit and he figures by looking at it I’ll be sold anyway. Silly man. Or….maybe the rent is negotiable? I found it curious that he didn’t tell me the actual rent.
Anyway, I’m going to look at it on Tuesday afternoon. I’m jazzed. It’s across the street from an independent coffee shop and about a block away from this little Italian joint/ale house with lime green walls, cheap food and a retro look that’s not shiny new. Comfortable. Stella Pizza…in the process of changing it’s name to Stellar Pizza. (Hope that doesn’t mean a change of character). I’ve eaten there a few times and like the ambience. Gritty artists, grunge, punkouted kids, families and industrial workers eat side by side. Or sit at the bar, order a pitcher of beer and hit the pinball machines and the pool table in the other room. They showcase local art, changing it regularly.
Hopefully, this studio thing works out. I’m tight for cash, and really don’t have extra to put down a major deposit. Especially on two places (one to live, and one for art/fuck). We’ll see what happens. But I’m checking out all viable possibilities, and will attempt to negotiate if need be. I’ve done it in the past and it’s worked.
Saturday, September 27, 2003
How about a treat? Here is the very first piece of porn that really impacted me. So much so that the story attached itself to my skin like a blood sucking leech and wouldn't let go. After 3 years, it's still with me, a part of my gutt.
In the table of contents, click on "Variations On A Theme". The other stories on this page are also excellent reads.
Remember, these belong to another artist and are copywritten.
As the author wrote on his page:
All stories/poems by Daniel C. McGlothlen. See individual links for copyright information. Duplication or any other use in any form without permission of the author is expressly forbidden. Otherwise, enjoy the FUCK outa these things. That's what they're here for. Feedback is always welcome.
So enjoy!
In the table of contents, click on "Variations On A Theme". The other stories on this page are also excellent reads.
Remember, these belong to another artist and are copywritten.
As the author wrote on his page:
All stories/poems by Daniel C. McGlothlen. See individual links for copyright information. Duplication or any other use in any form without permission of the author is expressly forbidden. Otherwise, enjoy the FUCK outa these things. That's what they're here for. Feedback is always welcome.
So enjoy!
Friday, September 26, 2003
According to something that just came across my desk, the Double Header in Seattle is the oldest continuously running gay bar in the US. Me being me...I googled for more information on the bar and landed upon this gem.
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Bare Leatherworks Floggers, Spreader Bars and BDSM
If you aren't familiar with these guys and their work, get to know them. They make high quality floggers and toys...and they are really great guys! I saw them at dinner the other night and they mentioned they are going to be at Folsom tomorrow, selling their stuff. Look for the 16 foot flogger on display. :-)
My rubber flogger is a Bareleatherworks flogger. Love it!
You can also purchase their goods at Mr. S and Toys In Babeland.
Bare Leatherworks Floggers, Spreader Bars and BDSM
If you aren't familiar with these guys and their work, get to know them. They make high quality floggers and toys...and they are really great guys! I saw them at dinner the other night and they mentioned they are going to be at Folsom tomorrow, selling their stuff. Look for the 16 foot flogger on display. :-)
My rubber flogger is a Bareleatherworks flogger. Love it!
You can also purchase their goods at Mr. S and Toys In Babeland.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
------------------------------
I'm envious.
Singletails is back in school. Welding school. His excitement is hugely infectious, and is a powerful reminder of my art school days. More so, because while in college, I was given the opportunity to learn welding and bronze casting. These were offered through the sculpture department. After my intro sculpting class, the prof pulled me aside and said he was holding a place for me in their bronze casting and in their welding classes. At the time these courses only came around once every 3 years or so, and you needed to be an advanced sculpture student to take the classes. But he strongly recommended I take it. Due to my schedule, I couldn't fit it in, still take all the painting studios I needed and graduate in a reasonable amount of time. You see, it took me almost 20 years to obtain my BFA. I kept quitting school due to dissatisfaction with art departments or fear of my own talent. Once I went back and really committed, I needed to just do it.
Looking back on it now, one more year wouldn't have hurt. Especially because I fell in love with sculpture. In total love in such a different way than paint. It's tactile. My intro class involved the building up with clay process, fabrication (found objects and wood), and carving out. Holding a hammer and chisel, spending 8 hours to remove a 1/4" off the whole 50 lb block centered me immensely. It's the only time in my life (other than s/m) where I could literally focus all day. Normally I can work, but frequently get up and move. I can only paint or draw in spurts of 2 or 3 hours. Then I need to move on to something else. I would sit at my bench in the sculpting studio and be fully drawn into my piece. I'd forget to eat or drink. Touching, carving, looking...over and over. Touching again and again. There was so much love in each touch. I'd remove a section, and then caress the piece. I was nurturing the block to take form.
When my prof made the offer of the advanced classes, I thought seriously about changing my concentration. Sculpture was so incredibly physical as well as creative. The sexiest thing is immersing my whole being into a project. But, my inner capricorn came out. Studio space. Storage space. When on my own, how could I even begin to do this? I can't carve stone in a 2 b/r apt. Where would I store my pieces? Lug them around from move to move? Nope. So I turned down the opportunity. I felt I could always go back into it, once I was established as an artist.
I remember with clay we worked on figurative pieces. The model would sit on a large lazy susan type object. Periodically she'd rotate, so we could see all sides. Boredom took over, and so while still studiously engaging with the clay and model, I'd add 60 years to my piece. I would turn a 20 year nubile figure into an 80 year old woman. Shape the skin so it sagged and wrinkled. Give it some personality and character. Quite fun.
Thinking about all this now, it makes total sense why I prefer working on very large paintings. Big works requre full body attention. It's no longer wrist action. But it uses your whole arm, your shoulders, your back. The size requires you move back and forth to see the entire image.
I'm still on the hunt for a studio space. Again, an apt b/r doesn't work for big paintings. I need to be sloppy and not be afraid to splatter paint on the walls and floor. I need to engage. Fully engage in my work.
I have my name on a couple lists for affordable studio space in industrial buildings. One guy said he expects to have an opening in November, which is perfect. My lease is up then, and I can move into a little efficiency thereby allowing me to afford a studio.
I'm envious.
Singletails is back in school. Welding school. His excitement is hugely infectious, and is a powerful reminder of my art school days. More so, because while in college, I was given the opportunity to learn welding and bronze casting. These were offered through the sculpture department. After my intro sculpting class, the prof pulled me aside and said he was holding a place for me in their bronze casting and in their welding classes. At the time these courses only came around once every 3 years or so, and you needed to be an advanced sculpture student to take the classes. But he strongly recommended I take it. Due to my schedule, I couldn't fit it in, still take all the painting studios I needed and graduate in a reasonable amount of time. You see, it took me almost 20 years to obtain my BFA. I kept quitting school due to dissatisfaction with art departments or fear of my own talent. Once I went back and really committed, I needed to just do it.
Looking back on it now, one more year wouldn't have hurt. Especially because I fell in love with sculpture. In total love in such a different way than paint. It's tactile. My intro class involved the building up with clay process, fabrication (found objects and wood), and carving out. Holding a hammer and chisel, spending 8 hours to remove a 1/4" off the whole 50 lb block centered me immensely. It's the only time in my life (other than s/m) where I could literally focus all day. Normally I can work, but frequently get up and move. I can only paint or draw in spurts of 2 or 3 hours. Then I need to move on to something else. I would sit at my bench in the sculpting studio and be fully drawn into my piece. I'd forget to eat or drink. Touching, carving, looking...over and over. Touching again and again. There was so much love in each touch. I'd remove a section, and then caress the piece. I was nurturing the block to take form.
When my prof made the offer of the advanced classes, I thought seriously about changing my concentration. Sculpture was so incredibly physical as well as creative. The sexiest thing is immersing my whole being into a project. But, my inner capricorn came out. Studio space. Storage space. When on my own, how could I even begin to do this? I can't carve stone in a 2 b/r apt. Where would I store my pieces? Lug them around from move to move? Nope. So I turned down the opportunity. I felt I could always go back into it, once I was established as an artist.
I remember with clay we worked on figurative pieces. The model would sit on a large lazy susan type object. Periodically she'd rotate, so we could see all sides. Boredom took over, and so while still studiously engaging with the clay and model, I'd add 60 years to my piece. I would turn a 20 year nubile figure into an 80 year old woman. Shape the skin so it sagged and wrinkled. Give it some personality and character. Quite fun.
Thinking about all this now, it makes total sense why I prefer working on very large paintings. Big works requre full body attention. It's no longer wrist action. But it uses your whole arm, your shoulders, your back. The size requires you move back and forth to see the entire image.
I'm still on the hunt for a studio space. Again, an apt b/r doesn't work for big paintings. I need to be sloppy and not be afraid to splatter paint on the walls and floor. I need to engage. Fully engage in my work.
I have my name on a couple lists for affordable studio space in industrial buildings. One guy said he expects to have an opening in November, which is perfect. My lease is up then, and I can move into a little efficiency thereby allowing me to afford a studio.
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
Want to hear some fairly new music? This is a musician who is making a name for herself, at this time, mostly in New England. I appreciate great songwriting, and this person definitely has that skill.
From her second cd, check these out, especially "Feed The Soul" and "Billboards for God". No, she's not a christian singer. These two are more bluesy, and I think that's where she excels.
The lyrics can be found here.
Before I moved away, I'd attend concerts that she'd be playing at. She does the hottest version of "Ode To Billy Joe" that I've ever heard. Sizzling!
Her first cd is under the name Heidi Batchelder. The name of the cd is "Wash It Away". On that one, Scarecrow, You Are, and The Call are my favorites.
From her second cd, check these out, especially "Feed The Soul" and "Billboards for God". No, she's not a christian singer. These two are more bluesy, and I think that's where she excels.
The lyrics can be found here.
Before I moved away, I'd attend concerts that she'd be playing at. She does the hottest version of "Ode To Billy Joe" that I've ever heard. Sizzling!
Her first cd is under the name Heidi Batchelder. The name of the cd is "Wash It Away". On that one, Scarecrow, You Are, and The Call are my favorites.
--------------------------------
Want to know what I consider obscene? This really rankles me.
HMO denies kidney to man with HIV.
On a totally different tack, tonight is the season's premiere of "West Wing". This is the one show I'll faithfully watch. Getting together with Bear, wonderboy, and a couple other people. Bear is making a killer stew served with baguettes and I'll bring some red wine. Yeah...autumn has arrived.
Want to know what I consider obscene? This really rankles me.
HMO denies kidney to man with HIV.
On a totally different tack, tonight is the season's premiere of "West Wing". This is the one show I'll faithfully watch. Getting together with Bear, wonderboy, and a couple other people. Bear is making a killer stew served with baguettes and I'll bring some red wine. Yeah...autumn has arrived.
Happy Autumn!
I miss New England the most in the fall. It's scenes such as this or better yet, on the coast, like this. Late afternoon autumn light slices through the sky, especially near the water and sand. There's a specific smell in the air that I can't even compare to anything else. I can taste the color of everything. And there is so much color!
Newcastle is this very little town near Portsmouth. A friend's dad lived in Newcastle. She and I would grab the pea boat from her father's place and row out to their sailboat. We'd climb aboard, rape and pillage the liquor cabinet, make drinks, and bring them back to the little boat, where we'd spend an afternoon rowing around the harbor. Lazy, delightful days.
The last time she and I did that was 5 years ago. It was my last summer there, before moving to Seattle.
Autumn reminds me of my old home. It's the one time of year I tend to get homesick.
I miss New England the most in the fall. It's scenes such as this or better yet, on the coast, like this. Late afternoon autumn light slices through the sky, especially near the water and sand. There's a specific smell in the air that I can't even compare to anything else. I can taste the color of everything. And there is so much color!
Newcastle is this very little town near Portsmouth. A friend's dad lived in Newcastle. She and I would grab the pea boat from her father's place and row out to their sailboat. We'd climb aboard, rape and pillage the liquor cabinet, make drinks, and bring them back to the little boat, where we'd spend an afternoon rowing around the harbor. Lazy, delightful days.
The last time she and I did that was 5 years ago. It was my last summer there, before moving to Seattle.
Autumn reminds me of my old home. It's the one time of year I tend to get homesick.
------------------------------
About a month ago I heard a song while driving home. This song, or actually one particular verse has followed me, every day since. Fuckin' intense.
"Gravedigger
When you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain"
Yeah....Dave Matthews. The song is "Gravedigger" and it's on Dave Matthews' new solo cd, "Some Devil". Today, I heard a few more cuts off the cd. I'll be picking it up this week.
About a month ago I heard a song while driving home. This song, or actually one particular verse has followed me, every day since. Fuckin' intense.
"Gravedigger
When you dig my grave
Could you make it shallow
So that I can feel the rain"
Yeah....Dave Matthews. The song is "Gravedigger" and it's on Dave Matthews' new solo cd, "Some Devil". Today, I heard a few more cuts off the cd. I'll be picking it up this week.
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
------------------------------
I'm in a mood today. A coworker is leaving...moving to another town. He and I are a team, and although I'm totally thrilled for him, I also feel as if I'm going through an amputation. I've known about this for quite a while, but he made it official by telling the rest of the staff yesterday. We connected from the very first and I've never before worked so well with someone. We've worked on developing a new system together. From what we've heard, in most non-profits, finance and development don't always play well together. When this guy was first hired, I began going to him, asking loads of questions about what would happen with the gift and pledge information that I would key into the database. How would he use that info and translate it in his accounting system?
I discovered his needs and created a system where the donor database would speak with his accounting program. Since then, over 2 years ago, each step of the way, I've consulted with him and customized accordingly.
Due to this effort, our last annual audit has shown that we've balanced to the penny...(which surprised our auditors!).
90 percent of this is because he and I have a great working chemistry. We can communicate and listen to each other.
The others in the office are all extroverts. They can schmooze. They are quite comfortable attending meetings and functions. They can do the cocktail party chitchat. It's their job and they do it well. This guy and I are the opposite of that. We'd prefer to spend our time at our desks working. We both enjoy people, but our conversations need to be more substantial. Board/staff retreats are very painful for us. So, we'd support each other at these events.
So yeah, I'm bummed. He has an amazing heart, and one of the hottest butts I've ever seen. :-) It will be interesting to see who replaces him. And I do plan on remaining open to whoever gets hired.
I'm in a mood today. A coworker is leaving...moving to another town. He and I are a team, and although I'm totally thrilled for him, I also feel as if I'm going through an amputation. I've known about this for quite a while, but he made it official by telling the rest of the staff yesterday. We connected from the very first and I've never before worked so well with someone. We've worked on developing a new system together. From what we've heard, in most non-profits, finance and development don't always play well together. When this guy was first hired, I began going to him, asking loads of questions about what would happen with the gift and pledge information that I would key into the database. How would he use that info and translate it in his accounting system?
I discovered his needs and created a system where the donor database would speak with his accounting program. Since then, over 2 years ago, each step of the way, I've consulted with him and customized accordingly.
Due to this effort, our last annual audit has shown that we've balanced to the penny...(which surprised our auditors!).
90 percent of this is because he and I have a great working chemistry. We can communicate and listen to each other.
The others in the office are all extroverts. They can schmooze. They are quite comfortable attending meetings and functions. They can do the cocktail party chitchat. It's their job and they do it well. This guy and I are the opposite of that. We'd prefer to spend our time at our desks working. We both enjoy people, but our conversations need to be more substantial. Board/staff retreats are very painful for us. So, we'd support each other at these events.
So yeah, I'm bummed. He has an amazing heart, and one of the hottest butts I've ever seen. :-) It will be interesting to see who replaces him. And I do plan on remaining open to whoever gets hired.
Monday, September 22, 2003
I just had what I call a "duh" moment. These are the times when I should have known the answer, but was too immersed in the trees to see the forest.
This is regarding yesterday's post about buddhism and sex. Stuff like this keeps us on our toes and reminds us that we are critical thinkers. We aren't meant to take everything lock, stock and barrel. That's deadly. It's about always questioning, sifting and then keeping what you personally consider the wheat.
That's why I'm not into religion. It seems to me (and I can be wrong) that religion asks us to dive in, total faith, and buy into their dogmas and doctrines. Now a philosophy is friendlier, giving permission to question and think, as the individuals we are.
This is regarding yesterday's post about buddhism and sex. Stuff like this keeps us on our toes and reminds us that we are critical thinkers. We aren't meant to take everything lock, stock and barrel. That's deadly. It's about always questioning, sifting and then keeping what you personally consider the wheat.
That's why I'm not into religion. It seems to me (and I can be wrong) that religion asks us to dive in, total faith, and buy into their dogmas and doctrines. Now a philosophy is friendlier, giving permission to question and think, as the individuals we are.
One of the books I'm currently reading is "Gender Outlaw" by Kate Bornstein. I tend to have 4 or 5 books going at the same time. I've a book near the bed, another in the bathroom, one in my bag, one in my car and another on the kitchen table. It's another part of my ADD way of being in the world. By the way, I don't consider ADD as a disability or something that needs to be made right. Another example of how detrimental limiting ourselves to the mainstream is. Check out the articles in the link.
Anyway, I'm enjoying the book because she asks questions. Loads of questions. Some she answers and others she doesn't. It's an extremely intelligent, insightful read. Enough to cause discomfort at times. And personally, I feel that discomfort is where growth comes in, therefore good for us. An apple a day. The link I provided is to an interview with her. Also a good read.
I wonder if you think I hop around alot...flighty...regarding interests and thoughts. I do and I don't. I tend to mentally work on a whole bunch at the same time. You taste a small sampling of this in my blog. What you need to remember is, simply because I've not mentioned something I've detailed in the past doesn't mean that it no longer holds interest for me. It's tucked in the further recesses, still there and being worked on, but at a slower pace.
Yes, I'm still acutely aware of the insights from therapy the other night. I still think about potential fisting opportunities. I still am internally working on my ideas regarding Master/slave relationships and how I fit that schema. I'm pretty positive now that I'm not psychotic or going crazy. Just have stuff to work on. As my therapist said, I've been hit with many severe dings at the same time. Work is still a blessing and a curse.
I still think of getting beat, or singletailed. If I close my eyes I can hear the whip thru the air a split second before it strikes my skin.
I remember one specific singletail scene...with Sir, a few years back. He would step to the sink and wet the cracker inbetween strokes. I found out afterwards He did that to have a greater ability to slice into my back. Which is exactly what happened. Blood spurted. It spotted His shirt. Fucking hot. My whole back was ripped up. Just thinking about it now reminds me how much I miss that. 3 days after the scene I needed to ask Him to oil my back, because of the scabbing that was still taking place. It was healing wonderfully, but stretching my skin and therefore felt really dry and itchy.
Another time, about 3 hours before hopping a plane to the east coast (in the days we only needed to be at the airport a 1/2 before our flights), I was again treated to Sir's singletail. He wanted me to feel His whip on the plane ride back home. He was successful. I squirmed on the long coast to coast plane ride.
Sometimes I do tire myself out from everything whirling around inside. Many times I've desired to cut off my head, to stop the mental manufacturing. That's part of the appeal of being caged. It shuts down the thoughts for a bit. And other times, I'm invigorated by working on so many things at once.
Anyway, I'm enjoying the book because she asks questions. Loads of questions. Some she answers and others she doesn't. It's an extremely intelligent, insightful read. Enough to cause discomfort at times. And personally, I feel that discomfort is where growth comes in, therefore good for us. An apple a day. The link I provided is to an interview with her. Also a good read.
I wonder if you think I hop around alot...flighty...regarding interests and thoughts. I do and I don't. I tend to mentally work on a whole bunch at the same time. You taste a small sampling of this in my blog. What you need to remember is, simply because I've not mentioned something I've detailed in the past doesn't mean that it no longer holds interest for me. It's tucked in the further recesses, still there and being worked on, but at a slower pace.
Yes, I'm still acutely aware of the insights from therapy the other night. I still think about potential fisting opportunities. I still am internally working on my ideas regarding Master/slave relationships and how I fit that schema. I'm pretty positive now that I'm not psychotic or going crazy. Just have stuff to work on. As my therapist said, I've been hit with many severe dings at the same time. Work is still a blessing and a curse.
I still think of getting beat, or singletailed. If I close my eyes I can hear the whip thru the air a split second before it strikes my skin.
I remember one specific singletail scene...with Sir, a few years back. He would step to the sink and wet the cracker inbetween strokes. I found out afterwards He did that to have a greater ability to slice into my back. Which is exactly what happened. Blood spurted. It spotted His shirt. Fucking hot. My whole back was ripped up. Just thinking about it now reminds me how much I miss that. 3 days after the scene I needed to ask Him to oil my back, because of the scabbing that was still taking place. It was healing wonderfully, but stretching my skin and therefore felt really dry and itchy.
Another time, about 3 hours before hopping a plane to the east coast (in the days we only needed to be at the airport a 1/2 before our flights), I was again treated to Sir's singletail. He wanted me to feel His whip on the plane ride back home. He was successful. I squirmed on the long coast to coast plane ride.
Sometimes I do tire myself out from everything whirling around inside. Many times I've desired to cut off my head, to stop the mental manufacturing. That's part of the appeal of being caged. It shuts down the thoughts for a bit. And other times, I'm invigorated by working on so many things at once.
Geek slut is one of the blogs I regularly read. Intelligent and lusty. Yesterday's entry was especially hot.
Sunday, September 21, 2003
"According to Buddhist Tradition": Gays, Lesbians and the Definition of Sexual Misconduct by Steve Peskind
This article was brought to my attention a few days ago. It speaks of Buddhism and sex. Upon the first few readings, I was disheartened. If one needed to have a religion, I felt that Buddhism was the way to go. So how could this religion I respected be closeminded when speaking of sex? I then saw the op ed piece by Patrick French in Friday's NYTimes which pretty much speaks of the same.
I heard the shattering of a pedestal.
Anyway, after thinking about this for a couple days, I've come to some resolution. I believe that we desire to have our religious leaders (especially those responsible for the origins of said religion) be infallible. I mean...we are talking about God and stuff, right? We want to believe in Santa and the knight in shining armor. We want there to be a one, true infallible deity who poured his/her wisdom and truth into a mortal who then carried that into the world. Life would be so much simpler that way, wouldn't it? One law. Black and white. Right or wrong. Heaven and hell.
But we are human and therefore fallible. And life is all about gray areas.
No one's perfect. And there is no one perfect belief system. Each religion will have it's skeletons. Those skeletons will be different for each who looks at or immerses themselves. It's about taking what feels good inside, and being aware that it's not a blanket belief.
I know someone who is a zen buddhist priest, as well as being queer, and I sure as hell am going to pick his brain when I see him in a couple weeks. I wonder how he balances both in his life.
This article was brought to my attention a few days ago. It speaks of Buddhism and sex. Upon the first few readings, I was disheartened. If one needed to have a religion, I felt that Buddhism was the way to go. So how could this religion I respected be closeminded when speaking of sex? I then saw the op ed piece by Patrick French in Friday's NYTimes which pretty much speaks of the same.
I heard the shattering of a pedestal.
Anyway, after thinking about this for a couple days, I've come to some resolution. I believe that we desire to have our religious leaders (especially those responsible for the origins of said religion) be infallible. I mean...we are talking about God and stuff, right? We want to believe in Santa and the knight in shining armor. We want there to be a one, true infallible deity who poured his/her wisdom and truth into a mortal who then carried that into the world. Life would be so much simpler that way, wouldn't it? One law. Black and white. Right or wrong. Heaven and hell.
But we are human and therefore fallible. And life is all about gray areas.
No one's perfect. And there is no one perfect belief system. Each religion will have it's skeletons. Those skeletons will be different for each who looks at or immerses themselves. It's about taking what feels good inside, and being aware that it's not a blanket belief.
I know someone who is a zen buddhist priest, as well as being queer, and I sure as hell am going to pick his brain when I see him in a couple weeks. I wonder how he balances both in his life.
Have you ever known of people that you just knew….just knew that there was something between both of you? I don’t mean like “in love” or those type of relationships, but I’m talking about something more like a friendship.
There are a few people in my life I have that feeling about. I barely know them. Distance prevents the connections from being established. Physical and/or situational distance.
Yet, I think about them, and part of me longs for them. In some ways there’s a recognition inside of something familiar. There are a couple folks at this time that I have that pull for. I don’t get it. For all I know we’ll never hook up. Yet, this week, they’ve been on my mind…intensely. It's as if something inside is calling.
There are a few people in my life I have that feeling about. I barely know them. Distance prevents the connections from being established. Physical and/or situational distance.
Yet, I think about them, and part of me longs for them. In some ways there’s a recognition inside of something familiar. There are a couple folks at this time that I have that pull for. I don’t get it. For all I know we’ll never hook up. Yet, this week, they’ve been on my mind…intensely. It's as if something inside is calling.
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