still

I'd have to die and go there to tell you with all of myself that there's a Heaven. On the other hand, there is a Hell. You make it yourself.

Yet, if you can make your own Hell to mourn your short-comings and suffer your decisions, you must be able to make your own Heaven, to celebrate your joys and offer praise. No?

If Heaven is perfect, and we aren't, then we cannot make our own Heaven. But if Hell is the opposite of Heaven, then it doesn't make sense that we can accomplish that, either.

So, what was all that I thought was Hell? I suppose, my fleeting goodness. As long as that tether stays intact, doesn't break or tear away from you or you from it, it can always return. So do the Cons of your Self.

When the ball goes one way around a pole, we hug ourselves in goodness. The other way, we suffocate in evil. Ahhhh, let's unwrap this game and let it sit still as a pendant.

Buddha, or Jesus, or Muhammad (metaphorically, as there are to be no images of Muhammad)(but metaphors are imagery... anyway), or a Star of David, hang in perfect balance from your neck upon your chest. If we are not affected by our ideas of the negative, nor our ideas of the positive, we accept everything with spiritual serenity. This is Brahman.

If You Wanna Know the Truth

This song runs through my head. It came on the radio during the drive home. It was anthem to all those drunken Korean nights. I turned it down in the car, unable to listen without the rush of pressure in my chest and bad memories. You need nothing in Korea.


A child trapped in a well, fingernails peeling off fingertips, scratched into the stone and mortar walls.


You need nothing but to be pretty. Put on the right clothes before you go out and keep the top button open. Make sure your hair's tidy but not too neat. You want it a little out of place, but well kept. You flash a smirk and two eyes that go into the one she's not use to people looking into, the one across the bridge of her nose. If you look there, she's locked in. If you have a dimple, use it like a mousetrap.

It's sickening to think of those days, trapped, using vanity to attract the most disgusting displays of affection and pretending to enjoy myself. My escape became my mire. You need nothing to live in Korea, but to be pretty, or, the will to recall you're more than your small face, big eyes, and flashy smile.

We all run through like water in a paddle boat. But some stand out. Those who stand out, do something. It doesn't matter what they do. They do it different than anyone's done it before.

Be pretty to stand out in Korea. Eyes glance and passions flare like morning glories. Open and shut before the heat of the day. It's too hot to stay available to the sun. Hide away, ashamed. I've no reason for people to see me.

Here, everyone's available for the watchful eye, the listening ear, the open soul, the yearning spirit that knows it can find more than the heart once cringed and accepted. There IS more. Don't forget this.


I realized, "Ryan is driving me home. This place is completely different. I can enjoy anything here." I turned the music up, louder than before, stamped my feet on the floorboard, hunched over and screamed.



"... make people have honest emotions..." - Nathaniel Rateliff

Galavant and Masquerade

I found the mask. Pam, Ryan, and I spent a wonderful afternoon together, grabbed a bite to eat, walked around the only hardware store I've ever found that sells artisan truffles, then over to Toy Joy. Toy Joy is the greatest toy store for kids of ALL ages, selling anything from action figures to puzzles, from board games to sheriff badges. We went on a whim and curiosity if they would sell masks. Indeed! they do! After pointing out masks to try on, deliberating on which suits each of us best, we decided.

Shortly after buying the masks, Ryan got a message from his friend Tyson (Zeit-Christ) about a variety show at United States Art Authority. He told us that, if we wear a costume, it only costs 5 dollars to get in. "And we just bought costumes," Ryan asserted. So we agreed to go.

Back home for a while, dinner, and a couple of drinks, we started getting ready for the show. Each had a mask, now was time to put the costumes together. Pam put on a purple petticoat and black skirt with black top, man-killer red lipstick and eye shadow, covered with an elegantly misleading pure, white mask. 

Ryan wore black slacks and a white long-sleeve, unbuttoned at the top two displaying his tuft of chest hair and pendant with a meditating Buddha. Pam shadowed one of his eyes white, the other black, matching his black and white mask that led up like Native American smoke signals.

As for me, I decided to borrow Ryan's silver long-sleeve shirt and Pam's black leggings and graphite boots. She gave me dark, glittering eye shadow to draw my eyes through my long-nosed, Capitan Scaramouche mask.

 And we went on our way.

The variety show was excellent and highly recommended.

Pulcinella

I always say I got a smile that gets  me out of all the trouble it gets me into. Who are you? (Information and images taken directly from this link.)

Pulcinella with the "coppolone" Maurice Sand - (year 1800)

PULCINELLA (Polichinelle)

Pulcinella is another example of witty but somewhat different character that emerges powerfully from the Commedia dell'Arte.

Pulcinella in one of his earlier costumes Maurice Sand - (year 1700)

Philosophical, eternally melancholic, dreamer as only a representative of the Neapolitan culture could be, Pulcinella has a spirit all of his own. No tensions or despair, his melancholic approach to life makes him coast problems, situations, live adventures and at the end simply getting out of everything, in the same simple manner as how he got involved. A positive approach to life, his winning strategy.
Various masks or costumes were part of the character, as its evolution went on, but what got in the imaginary was the white, simple, poor costume with the sugar loaf hat (the "coppolone"), his dreamy way of being, his poetry and simple philosophy.

"The Nights are Cool"

Your story is good, but, "You're never gonna believe this." All the good bands they talk about play behind, silenced by more tall tales, twisters, and nine pound hammer tattoos. So you go.
Where do your eyes go? What they flaunt when you're not impressed or back to the Virgina Woolf you saw sitting on her bed-side table that you never mentioned because they won't get off "It's Always Sunny"? You decide to look into the trees. Then you wonder if the end of that broken branch is a rubber band because, who would put one there?
My Antonia got soaked in an Indian monsoon and I sit in a Texas summer breeze centuries after Columbus landed on the East coast. I gave a French girl born in Korea my copy. She takes it everywhere. Doing such things have their risks, but not everyone's copy of My Antonia has been soaked by an Indian monsoon.

   

Treats

Amanda and I headed out this morning to Central Market. She needed fruit. I wanted to give her company. It started when I saw the figs. I shifted several around to find the right four, put 'em in my sack, weighed 'em, put the price on, and continued shopping. Then I saw the bins full of nuts and such. "Amanda, wait a sec. I gotta get ... " I walked, searching, "some, raww... aha! Cashews!" I grabbed a bag and filled with 1.05 pounds of the delectable nuts, printed the price tag and went on my way. Amanda and I meandered around and I saw it. "Nero d'Avola?! How strange they're advertising this here. Not very popular, you know?" "You wanna see their wines? They have a lot." "Sure." So Amanda led me to the wine section and I gazed through the Italian vintners. I ended with the first bottle I saw, excited to find what, a year ago, seemed so rare. We continued. "Are you ready?" "For what?" We went around the corner. "The cheese." It wrapped endlessly with refrigerators loaded with world cheeses. Some in the middle. Most cooled along the walls. "Oh my God!" I went through searching for something to take home and found the hearty bleu cheeses and chose one. Having finished shopping, we headed to the front to check out, and on the way, there it was, in it's bitter-sweet glory - Green Leaf, 85% Dark Chocolate. Without thinking, I snatched a bar and took it up front with the rest. We checked out, went home, and this is a picture of my unintended THEMED shopping spree. They oughta sell this plate at restaurants!

Austin...

... makes me look twice.

Bum, bump buh bumm!

My brother's getting married!

True love begins and cannot fade,
but may be questioned by those afraid.
Yet, what could never hide in those clear eyes,
those beaming, joyful, loving eyes,
is the truth that she, to he, is perfect,
and he, to she, the same.


I couldn't be happier :) Here's to you big brother! And Lucy, too! What a happy little pair you two are!