Listen intently to that which is not heard within the babble...there are melodies that bring beauty and joy to the heart that are not audible to those who just hear. Listen to the silence that falls around empty words and you will discover the true melody.
Perhaps this is the beginning or the end or a complete poem...I do not know. I just merely felt the words come out as I sat down to type a status tonight.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
A night at the museum
I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art this evening hoping to be inspired and driven to write a lot this evening. Per usual I was unexpectedly surprised by how my expectations were soo wrong. Note to self, when inspired before going to an art museum, just go home and write, don't go to the museum.
It was not that there was really nothing cool to look at...although I was disappointed by how uninterested I was in 1960s and 70s Italian art. I feel rather bad about the Italian artists these days, they have such high standards to live up to with Caravaggio, Michelangelo, and Da Vinci. No wonder they went to extreme lengths to try and regain something creatively inspiring.
I was most taken aback by the sculptures. I never imagined myself as a sculpture lover until I saw the "real" David and started crying by how extraordinarily beautiful he was. He is the perfect man. And then tonight, it was the dead corpses covered with blankets that I couldn't get out of my head. I was taken aback as I walked down the hallway to find these 9 covered bodies--all of them contorted in different ways.
What struck me was the mystery of the story below the blankets. How did they die? Who were they? Did they suffer? What was their last thought? Questions rang through my head like the ambulance sirens that were supposed to come pick them up and take these sculpted dead bodies to the morgue.
And on my walk home, I laughed at the fact that death is beautiful. And with that thought I was transported back into the scene in American Beauty when the boy is showing the film to the girl with the dead bird in it. Death is beautiful. There is a peace that takes over no matter what pain the person was in. Morbid, maybe. But it triggered an avalanche of thoughts and questions.
There is fear about death everywhere, yet we depict it artistically all the time--movies, music, visual art, and even in the food we eat. We in many ways feed off of death. That may sound like a strong statement, but when was the last time you ate something that didn't result in the death of something living? Even if you are a vegetarian there is still death involved for that plant.
Death deserves some respect and less exaggeration. We are all terminally ill and we are all dying. Which raises the question of dependence. Life depends on death, yet as humans we feel so much sorrow and grief when death occurs--we don't want it to. However, if it did not occur life may perhaps cease to exist. You cannot talk about death without encompassing all living things. Death won't stop just for humans, that would break the balance of everything. The earth needs us to die just as much as it needs trees to die.
It is the lessons of suffering that we don't want. I agree suffering is difficult, but it exists to teach and to make us aware. Death teaches us. Those 9 artistically molded bodies taught me something. Death is merely an artistic end to a story. We never know when ours may come.
It was not that there was really nothing cool to look at...although I was disappointed by how uninterested I was in 1960s and 70s Italian art. I feel rather bad about the Italian artists these days, they have such high standards to live up to with Caravaggio, Michelangelo, and Da Vinci. No wonder they went to extreme lengths to try and regain something creatively inspiring.
I was most taken aback by the sculptures. I never imagined myself as a sculpture lover until I saw the "real" David and started crying by how extraordinarily beautiful he was. He is the perfect man. And then tonight, it was the dead corpses covered with blankets that I couldn't get out of my head. I was taken aback as I walked down the hallway to find these 9 covered bodies--all of them contorted in different ways.
What struck me was the mystery of the story below the blankets. How did they die? Who were they? Did they suffer? What was their last thought? Questions rang through my head like the ambulance sirens that were supposed to come pick them up and take these sculpted dead bodies to the morgue.
And on my walk home, I laughed at the fact that death is beautiful. And with that thought I was transported back into the scene in American Beauty when the boy is showing the film to the girl with the dead bird in it. Death is beautiful. There is a peace that takes over no matter what pain the person was in. Morbid, maybe. But it triggered an avalanche of thoughts and questions.
There is fear about death everywhere, yet we depict it artistically all the time--movies, music, visual art, and even in the food we eat. We in many ways feed off of death. That may sound like a strong statement, but when was the last time you ate something that didn't result in the death of something living? Even if you are a vegetarian there is still death involved for that plant.
Death deserves some respect and less exaggeration. We are all terminally ill and we are all dying. Which raises the question of dependence. Life depends on death, yet as humans we feel so much sorrow and grief when death occurs--we don't want it to. However, if it did not occur life may perhaps cease to exist. You cannot talk about death without encompassing all living things. Death won't stop just for humans, that would break the balance of everything. The earth needs us to die just as much as it needs trees to die.
It is the lessons of suffering that we don't want. I agree suffering is difficult, but it exists to teach and to make us aware. Death teaches us. Those 9 artistically molded bodies taught me something. Death is merely an artistic end to a story. We never know when ours may come.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Me and Moon
Me and Moon have been talking
We have been talking for as long as I can remember
No, it is not the "Man" in the Moon I talk to
Just Moon
The entire white orb of light
Moon and I have interesting conversations
Last night Moon wanted me to come visit
To bring in the New Year from above
So I traveled to the Moon
Or I traveled as best I could
And there I sat
Like a Nursery Rhyme
On Moon
Viewing the world from an objective angle
And there, up above, I talked with Moon
We discussed great things without word
Moon's light and fullness was like my heart
Radiating peace and unconditional love
I saw my friends and my family
I saw people I barely knew
I saw parties that I was invited to
but did not physically attend
Moon and I laughed and watched
as the world celebrated a "New Year"
And then the Moon said
"Watch this"
He slowly eclipsed
I found myself opening my eyes
Smiling knowing
Moon had allowed me to give my compassion
to the world for a few minutes
We have been talking for as long as I can remember
No, it is not the "Man" in the Moon I talk to
Just Moon
The entire white orb of light
Moon and I have interesting conversations
Last night Moon wanted me to come visit
To bring in the New Year from above
So I traveled to the Moon
Or I traveled as best I could
And there I sat
Like a Nursery Rhyme
On Moon
Viewing the world from an objective angle
And there, up above, I talked with Moon
We discussed great things without word
Moon's light and fullness was like my heart
Radiating peace and unconditional love
I saw my friends and my family
I saw people I barely knew
I saw parties that I was invited to
but did not physically attend
Moon and I laughed and watched
as the world celebrated a "New Year"
And then the Moon said
"Watch this"
He slowly eclipsed
I found myself opening my eyes
Smiling knowing
Moon had allowed me to give my compassion
to the world for a few minutes
Friday, December 18, 2009
Just Dance
I'm always amazed by what happens to me when a rhythm is played or when an increase of energy is present within music. I immediately want to move. I immediately want to feel the tingle of the electricity of the rhythm in every pore of my body. I am entranced when I dance. I lose all consciousness of what else is around me when I am connected to the energy that is me and the rhythm that is felt. It is me the music and the energy that connects the two parts.
I danced for 3 hours straight without thinking or drinking. It was a good dancing night. For most of the night it was just me on the dance floor with the intermingling of my colleagues. I didn't care. I think tonight was the first night that I didn't care about who was watching, how I was moving, and whether or not I was dancing well. I was just moving and loving every moment of the freedom and the energy that I was able to create. Soon more people were dancing and then I started to get even happier, because I could see and feel them getting into the energetic tangle. It was beautiful. Everyone moves so differently, and it is just so fascinating to see how one person interprets a rhythm or a song and makes it his own.
It goes without saying, I love to dance. I love music and I love feeling music in me. The more I learn, the more I realize that movement is something that I am fascinated by. I love the human body and I love how it works. The smallest movement of the body can change the entire energy of a person and can even go so far as changing the emotion of a group of people.
Dancing is not something some people do, it's what we all do. It's present whenever we move.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
When you tell your mom everything
When you tell your mother everything
You know she's not going to understand
But you know you have to take that chance
Well at least you feel like you needed to at the time
When you tell your mom all the good and all the bad
When you tell your mom about your super powers
You are going to get a reaction
You are going to get the "worried" reaction
Information overload is a mom's injection to "worriedness"
But when you decide to start telling your mom everything
You feel freedom
You feel like you
You don't feel like a secret
You start to be you
You start to let the person that cares about you more than anything in
When you realize you never let her in
You are overwhelmed with what that means
You feel like a stranger to yourself and to the woman who did everything for you
When you decide to tell your mom everything
You are jumping off a very big cliff into a very unknown land
You know she won't understand everything, but you are finally willing to take that chance
You are finally willing to let her reactions to your words matter less than the truth you want to share
You are finally living and sharing your life with someone that you love and who loves you back
You are finally communicating without borders
When you decide to tell your mom everything
You have decided to start telling yourself everything
You are ready to be heard
You are ready to step out from your shadow
You are ready for whatever may come
When you decide to tell your mom everything
You feel the love she's been giving you from day one
And you will be surprised by how amazing that can be
You know she's not going to understand
But you know you have to take that chance
Well at least you feel like you needed to at the time
When you tell your mom all the good and all the bad
When you tell your mom about your super powers
You are going to get a reaction
You are going to get the "worried" reaction
Information overload is a mom's injection to "worriedness"
But when you decide to start telling your mom everything
You feel freedom
You feel like you
You don't feel like a secret
You start to be you
You start to let the person that cares about you more than anything in
When you realize you never let her in
You are overwhelmed with what that means
You feel like a stranger to yourself and to the woman who did everything for you
When you decide to tell your mom everything
You are jumping off a very big cliff into a very unknown land
You know she won't understand everything, but you are finally willing to take that chance
You are finally willing to let her reactions to your words matter less than the truth you want to share
You are finally living and sharing your life with someone that you love and who loves you back
You are finally communicating without borders
When you decide to tell your mom everything
You have decided to start telling yourself everything
You are ready to be heard
You are ready to step out from your shadow
You are ready for whatever may come
When you decide to tell your mom everything
You feel the love she's been giving you from day one
And you will be surprised by how amazing that can be
Friday, December 4, 2009
The reflection of a trombone case in an elevator mirror
When you realize that you love someone, you never forget that moment. Every little detail becomes ingrained in you head. Even the location of the mustard seems like a still life painted by a marvelous artist.
When you realize that you love someone, an incredible thing happens a part of you wakes up as if an alarm clock just went off.
When you realize that you love someone, it may not be the first time that you realized it for that person. It may actually be days or months after you pushed aside any hope of reality allowing that love to become something of a committment between you, the universe, and that other person.
When you realize you love someone, you have an undenying urger to tell them without concern for the consequences.
When you realize you love someone, you begin to understand the connection between soul, body and the greater universal spirit. When you realize that you actually love someone, there is no turning back...you will always love them in some way.
When you realize you love someone, you feel completely out of control, and you know that you cannot really control the destiny of where that love takes you. But, having faith in that love will deliver you to a beautiful place even if in the end you are not really with that person. It was love, it was the realization of love, that got you there.
And so when you realize you love someone, you have to have faith that it will take you on a journey that you would never trade no matter how big the heartbreak may be when reality shatters your perceptions of "what you thought might be forever."
The thing is, you will love forever and love will forever be realized.
Today I realized that I will never stop loving the people who have made me "realize love" and I'll never forget the smell of the coffee on one particular day, nor forget the color of the trees and the smell of rain, or even think about dismissing the orange dinosaur shirt, or the reflection of a trombone case in an elevator mirror.
And so when you realize you love someone, there's no turning back. SMACK you've started living with your heart and your heart is the best compass you have.
Friday, November 20, 2009
The reality of the AR Team: a real dream
I can measure it all in hours
2 hours in Cahuita at dinner
2 hours walking, dancing, and listening to reggae
30 some hours instant messaging
60 some hours of interrupted long distance phone calls
30 some hours of kissing
35 hours of sleeping, well I slept while you spent the night meditating and studying
10 hours of bathing
20 some hours of holding hands
2 hours of dancing to bad 80s music
12 hours of riding in cars
168 hours minus 20 hours--our total honeymoon
I can measure it all as if I were counting it on my fingers
I can measure, the life of Anne and Ruben, in a chapter that ends with no words
There is nothing more to say than, my reality of this feels much more as a dream
Teaching us beauty and helping us find a little more of who we both are
I can measure you in hours, I can measure us in telephone bills
There are no fairy book endings dear one, there is just the reality of this
We dared to dream of a life together, and reality set an alarm clock that was set much earlier than I expected
It's been 48 hours...I've already let go
2 hours in Cahuita at dinner
2 hours walking, dancing, and listening to reggae
30 some hours instant messaging
60 some hours of interrupted long distance phone calls
30 some hours of kissing
35 hours of sleeping, well I slept while you spent the night meditating and studying
10 hours of bathing
20 some hours of holding hands
2 hours of dancing to bad 80s music
12 hours of riding in cars
168 hours minus 20 hours--our total honeymoon
I can measure it all as if I were counting it on my fingers
I can measure, the life of Anne and Ruben, in a chapter that ends with no words
There is nothing more to say than, my reality of this feels much more as a dream
Teaching us beauty and helping us find a little more of who we both are
I can measure you in hours, I can measure us in telephone bills
There are no fairy book endings dear one, there is just the reality of this
We dared to dream of a life together, and reality set an alarm clock that was set much earlier than I expected
It's been 48 hours...I've already let go
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