someday soon...

...i'm going to turn this article into a very sensual poem, sans much of the crude imagery.


Mind Of Man: The Types Of Women That Really Turn Us On

ditto, the certain dark things

"Te amo como se aman ciertas cosa oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma."

— Pablo Neruda

bound by yet another human construct? or freed?

It's easy to become distracted and, once ensnared, hard to break away. I heard it articulated last night thusly: Sin is like a comfortable bed: easy to get into but hard to get out of. I'm not equating distraction with sin-- only comparing.

I find myself distracted. I wasn't the moment I walked in this morning; there was work to do and a firm deadline of 10:30am. So I knuckled down and got it done. Ahead of schedule.

But now I find myself distracted... I'm here, aren't I? That's right. I'm here wasting time when there are 3 other looming deadlines on the desk as I speak. But, since I'm already here, let's consider my deadlines.

Between each momentary "now" and each of my multiple deadlines is an ever shrinking value called time. For those of you who followed Farscape and enjoyed the finale, The Peacekeeper Wars, a bit of dialog...

Einstein:      Time...
Crichton:      ...Flies
Einstein:      Time...
Crichton:      ...Bandits
Einstein:      Time...
Crichton:      ...Wounds all heels
Einstein:      Time...
Crichton:      ...Rosemary and
Einstein:      Time...
Crichton:      ...Time ends.

The point being? Time ends. Deadlines come and nothing you do can halt its approach. Like that last line from 'Dust in the Wind'... "And all your money won't another minute buy..."

While I'm wasting time, my deadlines cometh. Welcome or not, they approach. The sands slip through the hourglass.

Another movie quote: from The Matrix...

"Do you hear that Mister Anderson? That is the sound of inevitability."

So there you have it. Each moment I spend here, distracted from those things that must get done, is lost. This means I will have to work doubly hard to get my tasks done, which makes me a slave to time. We all are. Our lives are ordered by time.

But time is a construct, right? A human construct? Can't we just tell time to go away? That we refuse to play its game a moment longer? Ahhh! Not a moment longer? Even our tongues speak the truth of our serfdom to the rule of time-- a construct no longer but, as Agent Smith declares, an inevitability. We are born, live our lives-- for the most part --obliviously or semi-aware of the cost of our daily and momentary choices. But there is hope, albeit emaciated...

From Fyodor Dostoevsky's, The Possessed...

"You've started believing in the future eternal life?"

"No, not future eternal, but here eternal. There are moments, you reach moments, and time suddenly stops, and will be eternal."

"You hope to reach such a moment?"

"Yes."

"It's hardly possible in our time," Nikolai Vsevolodovich responded, also without any irony, slowly and as if thoughtfully. "In the Apocalypse the angel swears that time will be no more."

"I know. It's quite correct there; clear and precise. When all mankind attains happiness, time will be no more, because there's no need. A very correct thought."

"And where are they going to hide it?"

"Nowhere. Time isn't an object, it's an idea. It will die out in the mind."

--- Kirillov to Stavrogin

It will die out in the mind.... so very true! But, in the mean time, the sands slip through the glass, moments die; perhaps consumed by voracious langoliers.

Stavrogin hopes to reach a moment where time suddenly stops. I wish to hope for the same. Perhaps even turn the hands back a decade or two. But I'd settle for keeping the hands at 11:14am on this day of April 29, 2010 for a week or two... allow myself some breathing room, and time to catch up.

But time is an enemy to everyone. Because we know what it has in it's nasty pocketses.

Ha! To think some one could actually have a door in its pocket.

Who would we call such a one but Death?

promising news, yes, but a cure already exists

Scientists make cancer cells vanish
--Helen Puttick, Health Correspondent, The Herald Scotland
April 21, 2010


Scottish scientists have made cancer tumours vanish within 10 days by sending DNA to seek and destroy the cells.

The system, developed at Strathclyde and Glasgow universities, is being hailed as a breakthrough because it appears to eradicate tumours without causing harmful side-effects. A leading medical journal has described the results so far as remarkable, while Cancer Research UK said they were encouraging.

Dr Christine Dufes, a lecturer at the Strathclyde Institute of Pharmacy and Biomedical Sciences and leader of the research, said: "The tumours were completely gone within 10 days. It is fantastic. When you talk about 10 days that is the time frame for curing a cold. Imagine if within 10 days you could completely make a tumour disappear."

Researchers around the world are trying to find ways to use genes as a cancer treatment, but one problem is ensuring they attack the tumour without destroying healthy tissue.

In laboratory experiments the Strathclyde research team used a plasma protein called transferrin, which carries iron through the blood, to deliver the therapeutic DNA to the right spot. Once in situ the DNA produced a protein that attacked the tumour cells.

The findings have been published in the Journal of Controlled Release, with an accompanying comment from editor Professor Kinam Park, of Purdue University, Indiana, saying other attempts to target genes at cancer cells have "seldom shown complete disappearance of tumours."

The research was initially supported with a grant from charity Tenovus Scotland, which supports the work of young scientists to help their ideas get off the ground.

This at least is a step in the right direction. Gene therapy is far more promising than anything embryonic stem cell research has to offer. But something even more promising than gene therapy (with a caveat or two) is the silly notion that diet can cure all that ails us... well, most of what ails us. Which brings me to the caveat.

Your body can heal itself of just about any malady, condition, or disease... provided you're feeding your body all the things it needs to do the job. Do you have brain or pancreatic cancer? Your body can heal itself without chemo or radiation or any number of drugs whose list of side-effects are worse than the cure. But imagine if your cancer could be cured in as little as ten days.

Utilizing natural means, ten days could... could... be enough to turn the tide, but the sooner you attack the cancer via natural means the greater chance of succeeding. Given six months to live I'd personally take the natural approach. Six weeks? I'm not so sure. Ten days? If it's the tumor that's killing you, and the tumor can be entirely eradicated in ten days? Five days might be enough to 'turn the tide' using Gene Therapy. And since it's your own DNA doing the work, that makes it as natural as you can get short of six months of juicing and oxygen therapies.

This is good news. Good news that is, until pharmaceutical companies manage to patent the process and make the cure beyond the financial reach of what Americans will be able to access through Obamacare.

[oh, you!]

"The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources."

--Albert Einstein

Albert speaks volumes in only eleven words. Who said brevity is the soul of wit? Shakespeare? What about the sole of wisdom? If you can manage to keep your sources and inspirations hidden you maintain the veil of mystery you deliberately-- whether you realized it or not --affixed to the product of your hands. Or, as Montgomery Scott once said, "Oh, laddie, you've got a lot to learn if you want people to think of you as a miracle worker."

..::[e]::..

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever."

-—Mohandas Gandhi

Perfection of the Christian condition as expressed by a Hindu. He nailed (no pun intended) the following quote just as beautifully... "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

..::[e]::..

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything-— all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure --these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."

--Steve Jobs

He may be dead tomorrow, so watch out! More iPads, and iWhatzits on the horizon! All kidding aside he speaks the truth. In the face of death, what does it matter if a big part of you thinks you're out of her league. Go talk to her anyway; be yourself, be honest. Only God knows the true value of your efforts, your honesty, and your self...

..::[e]::..

"The clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy, but does not allow the enemy's will to be imposed on him."

--Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Wow! Did you read that!? Can you even guess at the magnitude of the truth in this? Democrats operate this way. They impose their will on America, but never allow America to impose its will upon them. My, how times have changed! Once, it was 'We the People' who imposed its will upon Washington, but now up is down and right is left. The saddest part in all this is the so-called 'Free Press'. Once champions of Freedom they've sold their birthright for a mess of pottage. Selling us all out in the process.

..::[e]::..

air and light and time and space

"–you know, I’ve either had a family, a job,
something has always been in the
way
but now
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I’m going to have
a place and the time to
create."

no baby, if you’re going to create
you’re going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you’re on
welfare,
you’re going to create with part of your mind and your body blown
away,
you’re going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
flood and fire.

baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don’t create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.

--Charles Bukowski

'to find new excuses for.....' what?

I like this guy. What I see in this? The only thing holding you back is yourself; your fears and insecurities that limit and stifle your creativity... Only YOU can prevent forest fires... And only you can stoke the fire in your heart. Inspiration may be the flint to your steel, but you must nurse and coax the spark of their marriage to life.

Amen, and amen.

deadlines ~ the nature of the bEast

I'm on the edge of another deadline this week. Not as terrifying as the last one, but a deadline all the same. If it's not up and running by Friday 5pm it could be a job killer-- A definite job killer if not up and running by noon Monday.

That's just the nature of the beast. There's a live broadcast introducing the page at noon next Monday so... if we're directing folk to our page on Monday, the page better be there, right?

Makes sense to me, but again, I'm not worried about it. The hard work has been done. It's just a matter of tweaking and adding.... very little actual 'construction'. It fact, it has to be live this Wednesday for demonstration purposes-- a deadline within a deadline.

I've been absent much of this week. But that's also reflective of the nature of the beast; Mondays's are always a challenge.

e's political bone

I've recently been immersed in a little political debate over at American Descent, a little political blog I'm a member of. Chances are, you won't like it. I don't like it much of the time, but a lot of the things said there need to be said. If you go there, it's likely your opinion of what you find here will change. I do no support much of what the president has done, and it's reflected there quite starkly.

The subject of Politics in America has lately taken on the view of an aftermath; a Monde à la vision de guerre mentality-- kill them all and let God sort them out. What we see most frequently is a field covered with bodies and vultures gleefully stripping the fallen to the bone. We'll call the bodies "Bones of Contention" and the vultures "Partisan Politics". No matter how many vultures alight from above to join the feast we never seem to run out of bodies. There are more rotting corpses than there are vultures to devour them. Sad, but true.

And that's how it is in American politics. No one is ever satisfied, and no one wants to share. We will glutton ourselves until we can take no more, disappear for a period of time to digest what would otherwise be indigestible, then return for seconds-- or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, or...

The field is never emptied, and the vultures never sated. It's as simple a picture of political hell as I can imagine.

it's always ourselves wE find in the sea...

I Stumbled across a poem by e.e. Cummings yesterday afternoon, and was struck by the last two lines...

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

For myself, this is as true a statement as there is. I have been fascinated by the sea for all of my life, having lived on or near it for the first twenty-seven years of my life. And, believe it or not, I've written quite a bit on my fascination. Here are but a few samples...

It was vast, the Great Hall,
The dancers a sea, and I a lighthouse
Casting a light across the undulant deep, wild and flowing
A warning to those who might think to stop…
     Dance on, I prayed, beware these shores; hard, merciless, unmoving
Dance as long as Fate allows

--from The Dance

Life is a dance, and the dance is a sea of humanity; no one dancer perfect, but the whole a thing of tremendous beauty.

He looked out over the edge of the dock, looking into eyes that danced crazily on the surface, its form but a vague shadow on the waters rough surface. Without a word it reached into its coat pocket and pulled out a large black gun. It lifted the gun to its temple, squeezed the trigger, and fell lifelessly into its reflection.

--from Thrice Upon a Shore

Three short short stories painting images of life and death at the edge of the sea.

When the waters finally settled and its surface grew calm, Crearachenala searched beneath the waves for Enohtoo's body. When she found him she cradled his mighty head upon her lap and wept.

For all the many years that Ocean's waters filled the basin that is Zon, Crearachenala returned, when the waters lay calm, to where he lay and brought with her the soft rains to sweeten the waters where he slept.

--from In the Light of a Dying Sun, Book One. The Cradle of Giants

Nature has a way, both elegant and powerful, of leveling the balances. Get in the way of the natural order of things and the results can be disastrous.

I've washed my room with golden light
Laid chilled wine ~ two glasses by
Threw open windows to let in the sea
Accompaniment for my lovers' sigh

--from Washing the Room

Eroticism is not the sole pervue of sight... Or taste, touch, scent... the pounding of surf too sings of eroticism.

Sing to me a familiar song
Lips brush mine ~ our breath a song
Like the gentle susurring sea

--from One-Hundred Years Entwining

The sound of surf is perfect for spiritual and physical centering. All you have to do is stand in the surf to know your place, and sleep beneath its song to know cleansing restorative rest.

I have been too long from her garden. I know she is violence, yet I am drawn to her. Though she be calm above, yet am I turmoil within, without her. She is my lover, and I hers. She longs for me to lay furrows across her back with any ship I can find, and looking back, watch her smooth my wake without enmity. She smiles to know I long for her, to ride her swells, to feel her breath on my face and taste the salt of her tears. I awake each morning with that longing, wondering if our paths again will converge. But she is patient, if not always forgiving; she knows my heart is not my own, and that all things return to her in time.

--from Long From Her Gardens

A biographic foray into the fascination I have for sea. I love her, but fear her... I am properly respectful.

She learned my name years ago and has not forgotten it, calling me by name, often whispering to me as I sleep, sighing, "Return to me, you have been away too long."

There's a lot to find at edge of the ocean, not the least of which is yourself. And speaking of which, have you ever heard the band Ivy? I could listen to the following song all day long and never get tired of it...






Edge of the Ocean

There's a place I dream about
Where the sun never goes out.
And the sky is deep and blue.
Won't you take me there with you.

Ohhh, we can begin again.
Shed our skin, let the sun shine in.
At the edge of the ocean
We can start over again.

There's a world I've always known
Somewhere far away from home.
When I close my eyes I see
All the space and mystery.

Ohhh, we can begin again.
Shed our skin, let the sun shine in.
At the edge of the ocean
We can start over again.

Enjoy your next trip to the beach. I will.

[oh, you!]

"Fear less, hope more; Eat less, chew more; Talk less, say more; Love more, and all good things will be yours."

--Swedish Proverb

..::[e]::..

Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life

--Pablo Picasso

..::[e]::..

For BJ, my recent ex-employer:

"Treat others as you'd like to be treated.
Life's only a bitch if you are."

But she won't listen; she feels justified in everything she does. And besides which, Karma is beyond her grasp.

..::[e]::..

And finally, before leaving...

"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists... it is real... it is possible... it's yours."

--Ayn Rand

poetry ~ a rare find

It's simple yet beautiful, and strikes personal chords...

All You who Sleep Tonight

All you who sleep tonight
Far from the ones you love,
No hand to left or right
And emptiness above -

Know that you aren't alone
The whole world shares your tears,
Some for two nights or one,
And some for all their years.

--Vikram Seth

a new song to clEar the air

Here's something new to clear my spirit of last weekend's miasma. There is enough disease in my life already without allowing those events permanent residence in E's museum of recollections.

Sheer (She Loves Me)

Sheer. She is. She walks
Naked and the walls tumble down
Sheer. She moves. She smiles
My senses beginning to drown
And the tears in my eyes
Burning lines in the skies
Oh, how beautiful she is ~ to me
And I wonder how she
Ever came to love me
But I long ago stopped asking her why

Sheer. Her heart. Her love
Transparent her desire for me
Sheer. Her touch. Her kiss
There's nowhere else I'd rather be
Than right here in her bed
through the long years ahead
Oh, how beautiful she is ~ to me
And I wonder how she
Ever came to love me
But I've left all my wondering unsaid

Cause she loves me
And that's all I need to know
She loves me
All I ever need to know
Is that she loves me
Standing right here
Sheer

Sheer. Her eyes. Her look
I'm naked in all my designs
Sheer. Her hand. In mine
Soft neath the heavens entwine
Our lives love and laughter
All the dreams we run after
Oh, how beautiful she is ~ to me
And no more wond'ring how she
Ever came to love me
In her eyes I've found the answer

...And it's as simple as

She loves me
It's all I'll ever need know
She loves me
It's all that I'll ever need know
Cause she loves me
And that's all that I need to know
It's as simple as she loves me
Standing right here
Sheer


ELAshley
041210.101536.1
Immediate revisions:
041210.102530.1
041210.104126.1
041310.082334.1

I've got a melody with this one. I'll work out the chords at lunch.

One day, despite my previous declarations, I'll have to get around to recording some of this stuff.


Ciao for now, everyone. It's time to get to work.


Oh! I have no idea who that woman is. God willing, I'll know someday soon.

poetry found: sara tEasdale & tobin james mueller

Faults

They came to tell your faults to me,
They named them over one by one;
I laughed aloud when they were done,
I knew them all so well before, —
Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
Your faults had made me love you more.
Simply beautiful...

--Teasdale


Wake Up, Love

wake up, love
undress yourself from my skin
put on the sun and let our dreaming rest
come watch the world rise

wake up, love
and be unbalance on the edge with me
of our sagging, remembering bed
come slip on your shoes

wake up, love
and help me sort this tangle of belongings
our thoughts half in day, half still in night
come kiss me full of sustenance

wake up, love
and meet me at the opened door
before the scent of you leaves my hands and hair
come walk with me into this life

--Mueller

Simply beautiful...

the cost of perfection

As an artist you must both recognize the value of the extraordinary talent you possess, and an unsatisfied critical eye...

Picasso is in a park when a woman approaches him and asks him to draw a portrait of her. Picasso agrees and quickly sketches her.

After handing her the sketch she is pleased with the likeness and asks how much she owes him.

"$5,000," he replies.

The woman screams, "but it took you only five minutes."

"No, madam," Picasso replies, "it took me all my life."

* * *

"Think of and look at your work as though it were done by your enemy. If you look at it to admire it, you are lost"

--Samuel Butler

Armed with these two truths you will both grow and prosper in your gifts.

in E's quest for balance... some things must go

I'm in need of some balance. I need to drop some of the baggage I'm carrying. I have too much on my plate, too many pans in the fire. My fingers are scalded, and my mind is a kettle on the verge of a steaming boiling scream.

I have to decide what is important, and what I can set aside.

• I'm setting aside music for now. Not my guitars, but the desire to record my music and share it. I simply don't have the time or money to invest.


• I MUST continue working on the movie poster for "Writing Christmas Cool" but I have to balance that work with the work that MUST get done at the station... a lot of changes in job duties there, and I'm not as confident as I could be that all will be well in the end... especially in THIS economy.


• I am setting aside my language studies, TV (well, MOST of the shows I watch), and every book I'm in the active process of writing or drafting... five at varying stages of completion.


• Much of my blogging is also going. I'll keep this and Letters to Mary, and my portfolios, but that's it. I simply don't have time for it.


• I'm giving up politics. Or rather, following politics.


• I'm going to pick up my brushes again. I'm going to stop putting so much effort and emphasis on Photoshop and other programs and get back to the basics. That's where my real talent lies.

And that's just for starters.


UPDATE: Monday, April 5 - 8:45am

Look closely at the man in the picture... recognize him? Was HE saved? or was this photo a study in cynicism by the late Kurt Cobain? Is this something upon which I need to focus more? What am I doing to carry light in an increasingly darkening world? A lot less that those who paid to have that billboard placed. In a search for balance, I can think of no greater duty.

I had a dream last night. I wonder if I have the nerve to actually do it. Especially since it would require using company property off the clock, and for a purpose other than news/work related.

dreamers, bEware!

Dreams

All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find it was vanity.

But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,
For they dream their dreams with open eyes,
And make them come true.

D.H. Lawrence