Can you see what's in there, seeping through the cracks?
Or hear what's out there, beyond the ships, bellowing and beaming?
Twist me. Electrify my bones.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Thought Food.
At a table outside a Mexican restaurant. The sky is warm . A couple sits and eats.
“Are you a feminist?” Woman asks.
“What?”
“Are you a feminist?”
Man pauses, swallows a bite of burrito. “I’m not an anti-feminist.” Man takes a bite of burrito.
“So, you’re a feminist?”
Man chews. “A feminist?” he asks.
“A feminist.”
Man pauses. “I’m not an anti-feminist.” Man takes another bite of burrito.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I’m not an anti-feminist.”
Woman stares, brows furrowing. “What is your understanding of feminism?”
“Like, women, um,” man swallows, “wanting more rights.”
“Feminism,” she interrupts, “is a movement advocating for equal political, social, and economic rights and legal protection of those rights.”
“Yes,” he says.
“ Are you an advocate of equal gender rights, then?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“So you’re a feminist.”
“No. No, I’m not a feminist.”
“How do you figure?” Woman is not enjoying her own burrito.
“You know,” he says, “I never liked the word feminism. They should call it, the movement for equal gender rights. Or, the gender equality movement. Something along those lines.”
“And why is that?” Woman asks.
“Well, calling it feminism sort of defeats the purpose, right? I mean, how can you say you want equal rights when the own name of your cause excludes males? Even still, that doesn’t matter. Women and men can’t have complete equality. Like, in sports. Can you imagine a female quarterback? Some things are just made for men. Think about the workplace. More and more women are getting high paying jobs, but look at what’s happening to home life. Children need to be taken care of.”
“What about the men?”
“What about them?” He chews. “How’s your burrito, babe?”
“Are you a feminist?” Woman asks.
“What?”
“Are you a feminist?”
Man pauses, swallows a bite of burrito. “I’m not an anti-feminist.” Man takes a bite of burrito.
“So, you’re a feminist?”
Man chews. “A feminist?” he asks.
“A feminist.”
Man pauses. “I’m not an anti-feminist.” Man takes another bite of burrito.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means I’m not an anti-feminist.”
Woman stares, brows furrowing. “What is your understanding of feminism?”
“Like, women, um,” man swallows, “wanting more rights.”
“Feminism,” she interrupts, “is a movement advocating for equal political, social, and economic rights and legal protection of those rights.”
“Yes,” he says.
“ Are you an advocate of equal gender rights, then?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“So you’re a feminist.”
“No. No, I’m not a feminist.”
“How do you figure?” Woman is not enjoying her own burrito.
“You know,” he says, “I never liked the word feminism. They should call it, the movement for equal gender rights. Or, the gender equality movement. Something along those lines.”
“And why is that?” Woman asks.
“Well, calling it feminism sort of defeats the purpose, right? I mean, how can you say you want equal rights when the own name of your cause excludes males? Even still, that doesn’t matter. Women and men can’t have complete equality. Like, in sports. Can you imagine a female quarterback? Some things are just made for men. Think about the workplace. More and more women are getting high paying jobs, but look at what’s happening to home life. Children need to be taken care of.”
“What about the men?”
“What about them?” He chews. “How’s your burrito, babe?”
Monday, March 1, 2010
Are you a dreamer?
"On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion."
Also:
"Man is only a reed, the weakest in nature. But he is a thinking reed." – Pascal
Please watch/touch/smell/hear/taste the following, if you enjoy living:
"Waking Life," directed by Richard Linklater.
Also:
"Man is only a reed, the weakest in nature. But he is a thinking reed." – Pascal
Please watch/touch/smell/hear/taste the following, if you enjoy living:
"Waking Life," directed by Richard Linklater.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
It's a new day, today.
things change. grow, i guess. sometimes diminish, sometimes die and disappear. but mainly grow.
i'm making choices. well, i'm starting to. or at least i'm thinking about starting to. i will start with certain lobes in my brain. first, the motor. the one that buzzes constantly, itching, probing. so how about this: i will start by enriching my creative aura, if you will. my magic maker. my whirlwind. my batshit insanity.
i will broaden the scope of what is and what can be. kind of like a vitamin boost, or a back massage, or throwing the soul into the pit of existence and watching it swim about, floundering. eyes gaping. lungs gasping.
that sort of thing.
i want to start by knowing that i'm not the only one alive out there. i want to know what others think, what others feel. what others want so very much to say, but cant ever find the words. words are funny like that. they always seem to trip us up, to taunt us with their permanence, their simplicity, their mystery.
i want to know what keeps the world spinning in orbit; although, i probably wouldn't understand. i definitely wouldn't understand. perhaps someone, anyone, could explain it in simple terms, with symbols, diagrams--maybe pictures. like how in children's books everything is so easy, so beautiful, so simply formulaic--unraveling life's most profound qualities in a single stanza.
that was then.
but was it?
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Memoire
I'm missing Paris. A lot. So I thought I'd sift through some pictures and find my favorites from the time in my life where I learned the most about myself and the rest of this crazy, beautiful world.
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