Advance Apologies

RL has been a little busier than anticipated, which explains my recent sporadic commenting and anemic posts.  I have been thinking about taking a bit of a blogging break, when the human body that I inhabit showed its support by inviting some unwelcome microscopic guests. Seriously? After millions of years, can't we just get along?

I can anecdotally confirm that this has indeed been an active cold and flu year and am waiting for the research that will attribute it to contemporary weather patterns.

Maru in a raincoat. I doubt that our cats are jealous.

I might pop by from time to time as everything is subject to change, but for now I am taking some time off-line. I will see you soon.

During my last nap, I discovered the meaning of life, the universe and everything, which I must share with everyone. It is......izzzzz.....

*dozes off*.

Screaming Aliens

The first time I saw Edvard Munch's "The Scream", my less than reverent reaction was: "I don't like it."

I still don't.  I am living on a spinning ball of solidified magma, hurtling through dark space at 29.79 km per second, while our solar system is orbiting around a black hole (the center of our galaxy) every 225 million years. I don't need to be reminded about existential anguish by a painting, especially when the original title was "The Shriek of Nature." Less screaming, more healing.




Recently, a fellow blogger showed me her interpretation of the scream.  This one I like. It makes me laugh. Actually, the heart-shaped antennae are killing me.

Meg's "Scream"

Meg is more of a commenter than a blogger. I completely understand; I used to be one of them.  She left a funny comment somewhere, which is how I found her.

Meg posts annually, in a prolific year she might post twice. I will never have to worry about catching up on her posts.  She lives in paradise, although it may not feel that way to her, but really, how many of us get to go for a walk and share living space with crabs and monitor lizards instead of pooping pigeons and shrewd squirrels?




She is openly geek, so the Geek Award is now officially presented to her.

Check out  Meg's Blog, you will not be disappointed.









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Social Media, I Am Just Not That Into You

Wassily Kandinsky Several Circles

As a recreational blogger, who is using blogging as a creative outlet and to meet some interesting like and open minded people, I am constantly reminded of other social networking sites.

Obviously, how one uses social media is as individual as the people behind their blogs, whom I get to meet through their writing.  Prior to this blog, I did explore some of the social networks. Fb did not do anymore for me than provide status updates that I either already knew about or was not particularly interested in. "Having dinner. Chewing." "I'm seeing stars. Again." Twitter never interested me, which is not to say that it does not have its purpose or that there aren't authors who are hilarious, profane or profound in 140 characters or less.

Whenever I am invited to "follow or join me on fb, twitter, G+...", I am acutely aware of two things: time and internet clutter. Multiple social networking sites compete for our collective attention and time, set up to attract marketing, but are often distracting and time-consuming. It's difficult to resist the temptation of following links, which lead to other links....

Most recently, G+ was added to the fray and I had the opportunity to explore it.  I do think that controlling who sees what type of information is a good idea. Then again, what I share with my closest RL friends and family is not something that I would release into the (public) internet domain, especially when the laws regarding privacy and personal information have yet to be modernized.

While the introduction of circles does appeal to my organizational obsession, I would end up with several circles of one, for those friends who share one particular interest, but not the rest of them. In a 10 minute conversation, I can share and get the status update that would take me considerably longer online.

Social media is in its toddler stage and I am looking forward to future ideas and development that will allow us to individualize and aggregate everything into one network.

In the meantime, I have books and blogs to read, friends to meet and circles to draw.

 

Meh.

Hey, Wassily. That took 5 minutes. Time well spent.

I Learned To Lie In Kindergarten

Reverting to childhood speech for plausible deniability.

Why?

What cookies?

Did not.

Must have been the cats.

These cats do.

The cookie fairy then.

Yes, there is.  When she fails to pick up teeth, she steals cookies.

Have you interrogated the usual suspects?

The cookie monster, Santa,...Dobby!!!

Crumbs? What crumbs?

But, I'm grounded! That's not fair.

Fiiiiiiiine, I'll pick up some flour...and butter...and what?

Right after I lie down for a bit; my tummy hurts.

That's not funny.

Look Into My Deep Blue...

I had been thinking about her a lot lately.  I missed her. I recently saw her again, it was as if we had never been apart. Some friendships last a lifetime.

When I first met her, it was love at first sight. She remains beautiful, formidable, secretive, gentle, yet powerful. She possesses a depth that I cannot even begin to imagine.  There are not enough adjectives to describe a force of life.

She taught many things to a willing student, despite the fact that she is considerably older than me.  She taught me about life and what really matters, she showed me miraculous sights and encouraged me to explore.  Nothing has changed, she still mesmerizes and intrigues me. I could not help but stare at her, reminiscing about the past. Some of my fondest memories are associated with her.

"You look good," I say.
"Thank you. I have been ill," she states matter-of-factly.
"I know." Sigh. "I know."
She ignores my response. "It's hot. Let's go for a swim." She beckons, playful as ever.

The sound of breaking waves, the rhythmic play of water lifts the weight of the sky off Atlas' shoulders. I take a deep breath of sea-scented air, letting the cool water lick my ankles.

With an ungainly gallop I plunge into the waves, diving into a blue alien world. The sudden silence of muffled sound, the simple pleasure of swimming buoyed by saline water, triggers earliest memories of imagination; pretending to be a dolphin, an orca or a shark.

My predisposition toward constantly disappearing beneath the surface of any body of water, including the bathtub, used to drive my parents insane.  I laugh out loud as I recall being a megalodon, a prehistoric shark, circling my prey, then grabbing my mother's ankles from the abyss of the deep blue sea.

"ANTARES! Are you mad?!?" my victim squealed.
*Chomp* I replied.
"Antares. STOP IT!"
*Chomp* *Chomp* "Mom, I just ate you." Satiated, the cold glint of the ultimate predator in my eyes, I would show her row upon row of enormous serrated teeth, then glide silently back into my domain.

I still lack tail and fins. Nobody is perfect.
The oceans, however, are.
She laughs joyfully, watching my non-streamlined antics as I float lazily on my back.
"Welcome back, my child. Welcome back."

Everyone Is A Critic

I came across a humorous piece written by Paul Simms for the New Yorker, which takes an amusing look at blogging.

In this brave new world of social media, where everyone can leave their thoughts and ruminations as quickly as they are thought of, delayed only by the processing time of signing in, the resulting comments can be quite entertaining in their variety.

In this case the premise is simple; what if the Creator had a blog and invited readers to leave their comments? Enjoy.

Shouts and Murmurs, The New Yorker

Hell Is Other People

 The problem of evil: 

Why unconditionally bad things

happen to unconditionally good people.

They never do.

(Jonathan Safran Foer)

Some of the most user-friendly expressions are military based, a field where people literally put their lives at risk, whether voluntarily or not.  Used sparingly, swearing is powerful and has been proven to increase pain tolerance. A few months ago I experienced a conglomerate of a cluster flocked snafu of a fubar.  Within the course of a week life turned upside down, unpleasant discoveries were made, losses were incurred and plans...well. There were plans?

After the initial period of healthy shock and disbelief, (stress hormones are neurotoxic and the brain protects itself by shutting down), it was time to assess the rubble.  Some things I could do nothing about. Accept and move on. Others could be resolved. Incubate a predator-alien hybrid and persist. Bring it. The most difficult to deal with were the situations that were caused by other people.

It was an unwelcome reminder of how selfish humanity can be. Be it entitlement, greed or the worst that my species has to offer, the indifference toward others, putting self-interests above the common good or causing usually unnecessary harm, whether directly or indirectly is a reality I still fail to comprehend.

The lack of empathy and indifference that permeates our global community is seemingly infinite. I experienced it in my own little microcosm and have been watching it unfold on a global scale.  Selfishness, brought on by the evolution of survival, but no longer balanced by empathy or altruism. Empathy, the omega factor, which supposedly sets us apart from other mammals.

While dealing with the fallout of my personal cluster flock, I noticed a wasp queen building her nest on a window frame.  Through the window I could watch her closely, observe her building skills, constructing papermache hexagons.

We think of wasps as pests, unlike bees they do not produce honey and are therefore not seen as a benefit that humans can exploit. However, wasps are not only pollinators, but useful pest controllers.  While adults feed on nectar, the young are fed insects.

For a few weeks, every time her future hive reached coin size, I would open the window and knock it off. I cleaned the area hoping that if the scent was gone, she would pick another location. A few days later, she was back.  Starting over. Rebuilding.  I even tried to relocate her, but she would fly off before I could scoop her up in a container.

As a nature geek, I know that the aggressiveness of a hive is directly influenced by the behavior of their queen. Calm queen, which she was, calm hive. It became our routine. Knock off the nest, watch her rebuild and start liking her in the process. I lived with the knowledge that I was responsible for not allowing her to do what nature meant her to. She only had one summer to accomplish it. Damn you, Ender Wiggin.

I knew that I would be away and by the time I returned, her aggressive soldiers would hatch, helping her expand the hive. With reluctance I terminated her gene pool. I am sorry my calm little wasp, you would have made a good queen, but I had to protect my self-interest.

Letter To A Neighbor

Dear Neighbor,

I understand that as a performance artist the muse strikes you when she does and must be obeyed. I particularly enjoy the part where you use your own physical form to explore and present the effects of climate change. Using natural lighting, framed by everyday objects such as windows is conceptually brilliant and illustrates your commitment to your artistic integrity.

Your repertoire is extensive and must require hours of preparation. The moonlight glinting off your ghostly form was particularly memorable.

Could you kindly provide me with your performance schedule, including your matinee shows, so we can adjust our curtains accordingly?

Truly not yours,

Mee Ice