My Blog
I'm tagged by faeries, now I make a list:
1. Good artists make me cry. You might call them tears of joy, but honestly - it feels like tears of recognizing something I didn't know I had missed for eons. I cry because it suddenly hurts to not have had the feeling before. When something seems true and from the heart and uncensored, it just gets right to my inner core and I have no defense for that.2. I grew up in a small rural village, now I live in a small city. Hey, it's Norway. It's all kinda small. I did live for a year and a half in a suburb outside Sydney, Australia, so I do recognize what a big(ish) city is. I prefer the small ones.
3. Music was a big part of my life growing up. I played drums and percussion. Sometimes I still drive people a little crazy with playing with my fingers or hands on the table, my knees, their stairwell, fridge or other seemingly wildly exiting sound-producing thingamajig I may find on my way. The rhythm got me early, Gloria.
4. When I was a kid, my dad gave me a tail feather from a Golden Eagle that he'd found in the mountains. It was huge, and I was in awe of it. The norwegian name of the bird translates to "King of Eagles", as it is the largest bird in our parts. I kept it under my pillow. I was scared of the dark a lot back then, and spent a lot of nights awake, just looking into the darkness. I remember seeing an eagle at occasions, sort of like in the noise your brain starts to make when you're just staring into nothing. And the number 8, at an angle, almost like the mathematical symbol for infinity. Over the years, this "vision eagle" has sort of become my totem, I think. He's in my mind, at least. I call him "Ocho".
5. There's nothing random about this list. It's just not possible. It contains a few of the things that make up my identity, unprioritized, but not random. They are selected and to a certain degree heavily edited to make me look good. I don't think I would just suddenly blurb out my darker sides, although that would be truly random. So, this is definitely just representative of my slightly blurred-out, a little bit in-hiding, camera far away, subtitled way of displaying myself to the world.
6. But there are darker aspects of me too. Egos to multiple to count being one. Good desires and bad desires. They're all me.
7. However, I'm working on neither of them being the one in charge. For this, I use the I Ching. It has the ability to wake me up when I'm too far off in Egoville.
8. It's so hard to come up with 10 of these. And that's usually how I feel with projects, I love them at the start. I was at my best at the points 2-4, I think. The end is near, and I'm sick of the whole list.
9. But each of these points still tell you quite a bit about me. Even this one.
10. I was just trying to show off my zen-smartiness (yes,I know it's an oxymoron) on point 9. It probably didn't say that much on it's own. But how about now? And what is this point saying, if it's really just going to be discussing the previous point? It's saying, a part of me likes to be a smartass. Another part of me likes to expose that part, and call it stupid. Another part is just lazy, and happy that it got off so easily on the points 5-10.
11. There wasn't supposed to be an 11, according to the rules. But I'm going to break the rules anyway, by not tagging 10 more people. (I don't even know 10 tribes-people). However, if faeries are involved, as I was lead to believe, I am certain that the tags will be far-reaching and reliable even without my aid. Also, I like breaking rules, a bit. It makes things random, no?
fragment 26711 – the event machine
we came from the greenbays, tending the trees, the soil, the plumbing
finally back at the inn, weary, dirty, but free
after being cleaned off by the dirt recycler,
we gathered in the back room
the chairs were good, that's why we stayed the first time.
the second time was just bad luck.
from then on, it was tradition.
the event machine in the back room showed us the spacetime
edited, of course, by the finest of minds.
it's funny 'cause it's true
the whole thing is just too much
in our chairs, we ate the sunuatu leaves, we drank the beer
we shared the bread and oil, we smoked
all these were things we touched,
matter that made us
content containers
the event machine entertained us, while we
ate leaves, drank beer, talked, smoked
all these were things we did,
erasing ourselves, we made our actions
habits
out of boredom we mocked each other's abilities and intelligences
lame egos fighting wind with phrases we'd picked up
from spacetime as told by a machine,
recorded, recycled, reborn
look!
the echo made a duck
all these things we forget
for comfort
synesthetic-being-analysis
in the streams of possibility humming the current tune of ever-changewaves of maybes interfere
beingness born as a ghostly vibration existence,
sensing the wavepool from a glass-worth of water within
I'm learning
see the pool sing!
wanting
sing, pool, sing!
self-preservingly lusting for more
yeah, shake it harder, boom boom, rah rah
but please, not too violently, I get scared.
no, really.
the wavepool sings uncaring,
being what it must
so am I:
single vibrating listener, waving, scared
looking for same
was that an event?
no, you are wrong, no such thing,
stop screaming.
hear-vibrate