On Having Children

I created this blog with the intention to write down all my thoughts. The idea was to find some sort of connection with others by writing down how I saw life. It failed because my confidence wavered with the thought that writing stuff down to be viewed would make it less authentic because I'm supposed to be speaking to an audience. When in reality all I wanted was to record my life, and maybe find some connection. I mostly retreat to writing things down privately, because I know you only have yourself to grow from. Having said that, this is a subject that my female biology is screaming about lately, and I've come to some conclusions. I'll preface everything I write by saying I'm 30, and no matter how conscious I am about morality, I am still in a 30 year old woman's body. About a week ago I came to the conclusion that it's absolutely immoral to play a role in creating another life. By creating a life you are assuring death in that person. I want to wash my hands clean of hurting any life form in my life, and if I adopted children then the premise of creating life being immoral is destroyed. I would be nurturing life instead. It really is very selfish and egocentric to want children that look like you and not consider how difficult the world will be for them. It's a bitch. I can guide any beating heart into light and color and show them the greatest books and walks in nature and cool comics ; sooner or later that child will have their heart broken about the world. But to counterpoint, why do I have to be the only person in the world to lead a moral life despite my dreams? It's unfair.
The problem with most people and their dreams is that they are so desperate in their struggles to have what they do not, they never ask why they want that. Or what repercussions will be faced in achieving your goals. They are so consumed with the struggle that they don't have the luxury of thoroughly analyzing their options. Like having a family and a spouse. That's an elusive quest for some and they long for companionship so much that they don't see what it means in the broad scheme of things. The struggle itself is all they see.
I barely notice that throughout the day most of what I do is geared towards raising a family. Our home is always clean. I work in our green house. Try to keep moral going. I jog a mile every other day to stay fit. Something is missing in my life, and my biology says it's a child. Say I chose not to raise a family? What would I do in a day? I read books and books. I run. I already sorted out the life death thing: now I'm living to my fullest and trying to make the most out of life. I'm a positive nihilist (but my thoughts wear me out sometimes, and I always find myself alone in my thinking.) So I have this blank canvas to do whatever I want to be happy. I'm so analytical that I find myself deconstructing dance movements instead of dancing myself. Anyway I can't say I'm not happy. But I do feel like something is missing. When I got healthy by working for it I thought that when I came through that tunnel something would happen. I half expected some life changing event that everyone else was privy to but me would suddenly come my way. There is no secret formula (except maybe not to drink alcohol and to work for your happiness.) Having children is a subject I have a little time in tossing around then it's gone forever. In ten years I can't have children. Adoption, yes. Biological children are only a possibility in my 30's. Until I decide I'll keep doing what I do to remain happy. Charlotte Sometimes...

Oh Fraptious Day, Calloo Callay! (for animal rights)

This article is from PETA. Obama won and Proposition 2 Passed! Time to Celebrate Human Evolution. Cheers to all today.

Nov05

A Landmark Day for Animals From Coast to Coast!

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PETA took these pig displays to grocery stores around California to get the word out about Prop 2

We are so pleased to report that—thanks to your hard work—two important ballot initiatives passed yesterday, making history for animals. California voters approved Proposition 2 by a large majority, which will ban some of the worst cruelty to animals who are raised for food in that state: keeping egg-laying chickens in battery cages so small that they can't spread their wings, keeping veal calves in crates for their entire miserable short lives, and keeping pregnant pigs in crates that are so small that they can't take a step forward or backward or turn around. Animals on farms in California will be given these basic necessities by 2015, but we will continue to spread the message that the best thing that people can do to help animals is stop eating them altogether.

On the other side of the country, Question 3 passed, which will ban greyhound racing in the state of Massachusetts by 2010. Dogs who are used for racing typically spend 20 hours per day confined to cages measuring only 32 in. by 42 in. by 34 in. Many of the dogs can't even stand completely upright. The animals are also highly susceptible to injuries, including fractures, dislocations, lacerations, and amputations. And because they're no longer of use to the industry after they are injured, injured dogs are often simply killed.

The impact of both of these important initiatives is tremendous for the millions of animals whose lives will be affected by them. Our heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you who worked toward their passage. We really are making a difference.

He Understands Advanced String Theory Too

Here is our little boxer taking on the dangerous coils of a rainbow colored slinky from his high look-out tower. You may not know it from the cute expression on his muppet face, but Lucian was related to great warriors in his last life. He also shares an spiritual bond with boxers like Muhammad Ali. Eat those butterflies and don't get stung by the bees.

Quotes from a William Blake Scholar

Withholding knowledge is more then rude; it prevents friends, family, and tag alongs from a small piece of personal enlightenment. That's what I thought while leafing through my notes from a really stimulating class (one of the only stimulating classes, Literature wise) at Humboldt State.

A preface before these notes:

Since I love people so much, it's relevant to note that the mouth that these words came from is just as interesting and inspiring as the words themselves. This professor was supposed to be one of the top authorities on William Blake in California. But he gave up his Blake seminars long before I took him for a Practical Criticism class. The man has legal died (according to him) three times from alcohol consumption. He received his education by court order: which is to say he had the choice of joining the Navy (where he met a Harvard graduate and studied every book in the Navy ship's library) or to go to jail for hot wiring and stealing cars. He was a "D" student in high school. After his Navy experience he took some IQ tests and found out that he was exceptionally smart. Also he is completely nihilistic and a little crazy. Here are some of my class notes:

-"There are no messages in literature. There are only aesthetics."
-"Humanity is the connecting link between time and eternity."
-There are three levels of LOVE according to Ptolemy:

1.) 'the gold casket' (which is just physical sex)
2.) ?
3.) 'transcendence of the physical world' (platonic love)
-The above has something to do with a complete circle, or "the music of the spheres" (geez I was a bad student!)

-The North Star in older poems is a metaphor for fixed love. This is the star which we all navigate.

-The symbol of a Nightingale in Romantic poems represents a story of a woman who was brutally raped. Her voice box was cut out and she transformed into a nightingale. Here beautiful song symbolizes the anguish of a raped woman.

-"Tragedy is watching someone pay the ultimate penalty for being born."

-"There is no devil in the Old Testament" (My brother says this is untrue. If you look at the story of Job you will find the devil mentioned.)

-"Love redeems Sex."

-----------------------------
That's all of my notes, sandwiched in between history facts, scribblings, and my favorite: quotes from eccentric students. My mind is not a steel trap for these facts. I spent a great deal of time with this professor after the class ended. But he kept his healing knowledge to himself, as if it was not that important. He explained to me how to hot wire a car though. He shared his drugs with me (a long time ago). And he taught me how to theoretically kill a man by hitting him in certain vital points. Most of my education comes after class with these professors, and this particular man was one of my favorite teachers.

A Celibration of Life

This song most closely resembles my favorite poem:

A Song from the Highest Tower

Let it come, let it come,
The season we can love.

I waited so long
That I forever forget.
Fears and sufferings
Are gone to heaven.
And the unhealthy thirst
Darkens my veins.

Let it come, let it come,
The season we can love.

As the meadow
Fallen into oblivion,
Grown, and flowery
With incense and weeds,
At fierce drone
Of dirty flies.

Let it come, let it come,
The season we can love!

-Arthur Rimbaud

End of Summer Days

I walked to the ocean's edge and took in the salt air on a cloudy, surreal afternoon. Afterward we went to a nice restaurant, The Plaza Grill, and chose our dinner carefully. I had tomato basil soup with one raw oyster. He had clam chowder with yam fries. While looking over the drink menu (yes my drinking days are basically over, I know) a menu item shocked me to attention: Absinthe. Ambrose had a $200 dollar bottle once, bought from the Internet. Susan Sarandon smuggled it from Europe in a green listernine bottle and presented it to a young lover in a recent movie saying, "Tonight is an absinthe night." The exotic Italian actress Asia Argento was in a car accident causing a fatality and absinthe was found in her possession; a fact that made her country dislike her even more. And of course Vincent Van Gogh was famous for his love of absinthe, which was believed to have influenced his paintings, including the psychedelic swirls in "Starry Night". I thought it was contraband in the United States.

For ten dollars a shot, from an absinthe brand called, "Lucid" you get a crystal goblet, a single sugar cube, and a tin cup of water to pour on the sugar, one drop at a time, to allow the sweetness to cloud up the green hue of the liquor. I took a sip. Going down my throat warm and fuzzy I swear the punch of the drink hit me immediately. Daryl's eyes turned a deeper green, the noise in the room became a distant static, and I felt...content.

Afterward we checked out four DVDs, gathered pillows and blankets for our fold out sofa, and vegged out to the rantings of Timothy Leroy (usually I would NEVER rent a documentary on him) while cuddling.

I document this day here because it's one of the last 'free' days I have this summer, 2008. Soon responsibilities will constrict both my time, and Daryl's time. Hustle mode comes early this Autumn. So here is a record of our lazy and adventurous Friday. In one day it seems nothing is accomplished, but does it need to be? I don't need to cross off a list to be happy and know that I'm alive. There will be time for stormy weather. For now, I can spend a day inhaling the smell of the Northern Pacific Ocean, taking photographs, and hearing Daryl's beautiful guitar strumming. I am trying to be present in every moment. That's my secret to happiness.

Lionel Richie: God or Antichrist?

This is my favorite image for this time in my life: an artist leaping into the void (by Yves Klein). Jumping into the unknown. Before I explain how this relates to me, and anyone reading this, I want to jot down the most beautiful religious myth created by THE man: William Blake. Blake created a mythology where there was only one God- a man so perfect and angelic that there was no problems in his domain but one: loneliness. So this fictitious story resumes with a perfect but lonely man who decides to form a partner. God created his perfect partner: another God with the image, form and grace of a woman. Then when he stood back and saw how beautiful this woman was he fell to his knees and wept. His tears were so monumental and his joy so overwhelming that as he fell to his knees he, and his woman, shattered into tiny little fragments that landed like stars, covering the world. The moral? We are all shattered Gods on a unified quest to collect ourselves and what is beautiful in each other. Blake's the man. But the Professor who told me that repeated just a little too much, "We are all fallen...." through the semester. But the mythology is how I live my life: I'm a bunch of shattered stars, stained glass, that when put together creates God. I am God and so are my fellow Earthlings. It was the image of a woman that caused the collapse, so naturally it is love that we seek. Repair yourself and find love. That's nature's gift to us. And when you find it, and I hope everyone does, it is indescribably gorgeous.

So on to this Yves Klein image. I'm jumping into the void with no net (but hey, he had the net photo shopped out of his image!), but I have faith in myself, the ability to give without asking for anything in return, and my brain to get me by. This goes back to being self sufficient and seeing people as drugs (that old blog I wrote). And it's a crass, cynical world sometimes- look Whittney Huston was the one who sung, "The greatest love of all is learning to love yourself". She's a crack addict. You just have to laugh off the cynicism and live and let live.

I saw a path for me that would lead me in a completely different direction then what I've tried to make bloom for the past year. Yesterday morning this happened. A life changing decision- jumping into the void- and mother fucking Lionel Richie, channeled through either God or Satan, came up on the radio with his song, "Hello! Is it me you're looking for?" I took it as a sign to keep trying; let whatever was in the void for me remain there. The void is as limitless as our ability to create a world around us that we can love. So thanks Lionel Richie, or no thanks. You changed the course of my life for now. Whatever happens I'm not afraid, and I am a shattered God in a world of the same angels as myself.