with love, from england

Just a short post. Its pretty here. And old .... quite old. Some buildings here have survived since the 15th century. Most of the buildings are made of stone and the farmhouses are quite palatial, believe it or not. Thatched rooves, cobblestone roads, oh-so-narrow country lanes lined with hedges ... its quiet quaint and I have not seen a skyscraper since leaving heathrow for this lovely little village. I don't miss the city and I have been quite spoiled by a wonderful cook, who plans and prepares the loveliest meals (yes, as you've guessed, he's not a brit ... lovely people those brits, but cuisine is NOT their forte! and I say that with much affection). Lamb Curry, Pheasant breast, Beef Wellington (purchased at the farmer's market, prepared by a farmer's wife ... yum yum), the best Spanish red wines with meals, Carbonara made the REAL italian way (i.e. that without a cream sauce, just in case you don't know), Tomato salad with goat cheese, ahhh ~ I have tasted so much great food I can hardly remember it all. Farmed Venison steaks, made per the butcher's recipe ... yummy ... considering I hated wild Venison every time I have tasted it. Even the plates are warmed, prior to serving the meal ~ talk about attention to detail! We ate at a Bengali/Indian restaurant here in the village ... what a delight ~ shamee kebobs, lovely chutney, and some incredibly spicy pastey thing that you put on your papadum. Ok ... I'm quite the chatterbox and my brain is sort of chaotic ... I have been exploring the village and snapping pictures like a mad tourist .... and I think I got hight on all the sunshine and fresh air. Its lambing season here already and spring is beginning to show herself, oh so slowly. And that's all for now ... I know I have a lot of great comments to my last post and I have been a bad Roxanne and not returned a single one. I will, soon.

Ta ta ... mind the gap and all that.

Love, me.

saturday morning post

where i've been ...

... where i'm going ...

Expand the post for excerpts from an article on "virtual addiction" [and its connection to our apathetic Western society] I found at adbusters.

If you turn on your television set and look away at a nearby wall, you will discover that the reflections produced by the light from the TV vary constantly in contrast and intensity. It occurs to me that every cell in our bodies has been programmed to respond to light – when a shadow passes over a field mouse, it becomes alert to a potential threat. Abrupt changes in the intensity of light are indications of danger that our neurological system has evolved to respond to. What effects can a lifetime of exposure to this assault produce? It’s obvious that the intensity of visual and audio contrast in our lives has increased through the years. I assume that our brains’ response is a protective deadening of our neural receptors.

I am convinced that the passivity of the American public is related to this phenomenon ... In our world, reality has been replaced by forms of entertainment that require little mental activity and encourage inertia and apathy. How else can we explain the incredible indifference to their own lives and interests that characterizes the American people at this time? The misrepresentations of government, the outrageous dishonesty of business, the attacks on our civil rights, the collapse of our educational system and the failures of our social safety nets have produced almost no response or indignation from the American public ... We no longer understand the relationship between cause and effect.

If illustration suggests illumination, then the shadow is central to its meaning. All of us who create imagery know that the relationship of dark to light is unavoidable. Although Freud, like all true artists, offered us only one way to view the world, I’ve always been attracted to his notion of the struggle between Eros and Thanatos, the pull towards life versus the pull towards death that seems to occupy the human psyche. Eros is the mother of sex, love, feeling and the desire to make things. Thanatos embraces darkness, obscurity, evil and entropy. Although the dialogue between these two forces predates history, the anxiety of this moment in time convinces us that the balance has gone awry.

The deepest role of art is creating an alternative reality, something the world needs desperately at this time ... I used to feel that it was strange that artists are self-anointed. Now I realize it could not be any other way, because, above all, art is a view of life itself: it cannot be given by others nor taken away by dealers or marketing men. The real artists are always working for nothing because they don’t see their essential role in society as being simply the exchange of goods. The real artists turn up first in the anti-war demonstrations, not because they lack patriotism, but because they revere life.
~ Milton Glaser ~

link here

je pense, donc je suis

or, for those who prefer latin: "... cogito; ergo sum ..."


things i'm thinkin' about this week ~
expand the post to see what

1. ok. so the dollar's reached parity. big FAT deal. i mean, it's spent decades as an undervalued currency ... now its going to spend some time as an overvalued one. c'mon, let's not fool ourselves into thinking that the strength of the dollar has as much to do with the soundness of canada's economy, as it does with the weakness of america's economy.
2. why does the usa call itself america? i never understood that. aren't canada and mexico part of north america, too? does calling itself america intend to assert some conceited notion as being the most important ingredient of NA?
3. amadinejed is visiting nyc this week. and there are lame asses all over the place with placards saying stupid sh1t like 'we don't support terrorism' ... ! lies! y'all do ~ them's some terrorist-like behaviour in israel, ain't it? and the usa is funding those terrorist that i will call zionists. heck, i guess that makes the usa zionist, doesn't it? so ~ how is it that a country that supports the most blatant example of terrorism this era has seen ... likes to tell itself we don't support terrorists ... of course you do! silly americans ~ tricks are for kids. and ~ if you disagree ... please tell me how that's different. maybe canadians should hold similar protests when dubya comes to visit ...?
4. if we legalized heroine, we would steal some serious thunder from the taliban, who apparent have funded their resurgence/come-back with poppy money. doesn't it just make sense? legalize all the illicits ~ and you will instantly remove all the crime from that trade ... look to history if you think i'm full it sh1t on that one. how well has prohibition really worked for humanity in the past?
5. i've thought about truth ~ whether its absolute or relative ... or ... what. i reject the notion of absolute truth. the universe expands, time passes, knowledge evolves. we seek truth via knowledge, which we acquire through our senses. perception ~ that's the source of living truth for each of us. however, something must bind the matter and energy of the universe to itself. yes ~ universal truth. a realm to which, i suppose God belongs. and the immutable laws of the universe. and we, humanity, reside at the intersection of universal truth and that relative, personal truth which our perceptual senses have conjured.
6. how many times has the creator unfolded and folded up the world? there's a theory out there that says the expansion of the universe has begun slowing ... that one day in the future it will stop and that will mean time will stop ... the universe will end ~ collapse into itself and become another black hole, from which ... eventually, another big bang will emerge. i imagine, then ... that we aren't the first of our kind ... that there have been other universes and humanities ...
7. i got a beautiful, handmade scarf from cora last evening. i love it so much, i fell asleep with it on! i will post a picture in the coming days.
8. aside from the scarf, i allow myself one luxurious indulgence ~ estee lauder's pleasures exotic perfume. yes, i got a guy that brings me perfume ... just because he loves me.
   
9. i find myself struggling with tolerance of the intolerant ... tolerance of the rude. oh dear! its so very challenging ... like playing tug of war with a giant bull mastiff (my ego being the giant mastiff) and sometimes not winning. awareness ~ the most efficacious weapon against intolerance.
   

Nuthin Much

A lady threw herself in front of a moving subway this morning. So, of course, this caused the shutdown of the entire subway system in Vancouver for the better part of the day. Undoubtedly, people react with the how could she do this to me attitude, as opposed to the how awful ... attitude. *sigh* ~ its all about me, that's how I find most people. And ... mostly unaware. Though, its trying to tolerate, I can only feel sorry for those who demonstrate themselves pre-operationally egocentric, I suppose. As I wonder, what agony drove this woman to end her life so violently? Did she find herself regretting her decision to throw herself in front of the train, but only too late? Did she feel afraid, in the nanoseconds before her death? Did she ask for forgiveness ... for such an act of cowardice and carnage? That's not for me to judge, I know. Still ... I wonder about such things. I wonder about other humans ~ like ... wonder what makes them tick. Too bad more humans have forgotten to wonder.

A few posts back, I wrote a post based on a speech I heard Giorgio di Cicco give at a televised conference. One of the ideas he expressed involved sullenness on peoples' faces as an index that must be read. Well, don't you find people embroiled in such deep despair that they rage? Don't you see the rage in society as an index which we must begin to read? I do. The west has too much ... and yet not enough. All at once. We behave like dumb, patronizing sheep. Or magpies ~ following the shiny objects. We'd pluck each other's eyes out, because they look like that shiny bauble we want. Want? Why? Because. Because, why? Because ... we can. This constant faceless desire, lust for power, and egocentric approach to life will certainly spell humanity's demise ... at some point in the future. *sigh*

Anyways ...

You'll notice the new header. Like it? Yet another photo-choppy ... by yours truly. If you go to the lullabies for cerberus blog you'll see a new header there, too. I disabled the funky mouseover script i had goin' on here, for now. Just for now. Yeah ~ it seems I'm on a Photoshop jag. I suppose that's where all the creative energy's going to, these days. I'm still reading Dante ... though my pace has slowed ... and still reading Dostoevsky (Brothers Karamazov), and still poking through St. Augustine's Confessions. I think I will revisit a book I have on my shelf ~ The Trouble with Islam ~ a book written by a Muslim woman/journalist here in Canada. It's a genuine and balanced portrayals of Islam with references to the Qu'ran ... and her take on the whole extremist phemonemon. Its a book written by a woman who still believes in the merit her faith system ... just has trouble reconciling the direction some appear to want to take it.

Its a similar thing many Christians struggle with these days ~ questioning one's religious context and/or background. When I read the book, for the first time about 2 years ago, it actually inspired me to find out more about my own religion. Know why we're such sheep here? Coz we really know jack shit about the things we should have great knowlesge. Its pitiful, how obtuse and impatient technology has made us - particularly that photon-box that gives its viewers square eyes. And the crap that actually makes it to those airwaves. And that people lap it up, like a thirsty hound laps up water from his dish. I find myself tiiiiiiirrrreeeed of hearing Islam-bashing. Rather that climb in the mud pit with the bashers and the brawlers I choose to take the intellectual approach: learn about the things of which I know little. I used to feel absolutely compelled to vehemently address the disagreeables, to convert their ways of thinking. But, the most intolerant typically have grown that way over time ... and their attitudes have firmly taken root. And stirring the pot really does little but create friction and dissension.

Okay. That's my lamest post ever, I think. Well ... ok. Just look at the pretty header. And just think ... TGIF! Wishing everyone a great weekend.

... unravelled? no, not quite!

Dante graciously acknowledged my need to write this post ... and so, here's another interlude from the Dante series ...

Not quite, but almost. Unravelled, I mean. I stemmed the tide, by my simple awareness of its existence, I stemmed the tide of emotion that threatened to drown me right there, in the cafe. Here's what happened ...

I stopped at my favourite cafe on my way to school late this morning. I met a woman who had her dog tied up just at the cafe's entrance, near an old wooden bench that had a skirting around it, to prevent anyone from seeing underneath. I remembered thinking to myself that I, when my dog lived, would have decided against leaving him anywhere like that, for fear that another would take him. And ... wouldn't that just serve me right, for leaving such a prized gem out there, for anyone to take.

I digress ... the woman ... in the smoking room, she talked about her very mischievous dog ~ the same sort as Trout ~ to whom our beloved she/k9/chickory belongs. She told us how her dog liked to get into her clothes - particularly the underwear, and wear it like a hat on her head, and prance about the house. She told spoke of the challenges of raising such a dog ~ one so smart ... that conventional training methods (most of which involve manipulation of the power-dynamic) simply have no efficacy on such a clever creature. And how ... she, as a dog owner, felt so unprepared for such. The dog required constant engaging ... so smart, that dog.

And then ... the lady left the smoke room. Completely coincidentally, I left shortly thereafter. And just as I stopped to fuss with my change purse, etc., prior to exiting the cafe, I heard this lady scream. She screamed a scream that got everyone's attention. She screamed a scream that moved me so much, to call it any emotion would merely diminish what she screamed in that scream. I felt the torment of all the souls in hell, in her scream. Why she screamed really has little bearing to the story. Briefly, I'll just say, she thought her dog had gotten stolen, when in fact, she did not see him cowering under the skirted bench.

The point I want to make? My acute reaction to that scream. I knew immediately ~ her dog went missing ~ what triggered the scream. I knew that despair, that anguish. I caught myself, on the precipice of sanity. For a moment. Until I remembered ... THINK. What's going on? What was going on? My heart raced, my core shook, and I could not grasp the coins I sought to count in my change purse. I felt a tidal wave building ... of what emotion I cannot name. Something .... which my brain threatened to manifest as tears. Why? Why did I feel this way? No reason, really. And just that very thought process allowed me to experience the feelings I'd apparently channeled, without immersing myself in them ... without drowning in them. I did not cry. I did not suppress the urge to cry. I disarmed it.

And so, shaken, but not stirred ... like a dry martini I walked myself out of that place. And contemplated the lesson. I feel my feelings. They do not feel me.