Livin' Lovin'

I went on a little hike today. Freed up my mind. Took a journal, some paper, and a crow quill pen. It was the most beautiful thing. I made a stupid cheese vid:

Absorb It All In

Barnes and Noble bookstore is full of interesting people.

A group of students from the community college, enrolled in the children's literature course, are required to read a children's story to a group of four and five year olds. This helps the college students gain a genuine understanding of how children respond to literature, and, for the mothers of these kids, allows a 30-minute vacation to gossip and drink sexy, spiced coffee, or peruse the cooking section. Rachel Ray and Martha Stewart benefit, Howard Schultz benefits, young children benefit, idealistic twenty-year olds benefit, and so on.

Great.

These kids sponge up every word the overly zealous young lady reads to them. The personified spider in the heavily illustrated story reveals a new world, fresh concepts, and allows morals to crystallize in young minds. Young people are being trained to live and act a certain way and yet, to them, it is just an illustration and some words, maybe a funny line. Especially when the young lady stands up and acts it out. The children roll on the floor, curl their faces up and giggle.

Here I am, sitting at a table a few feet from the mothers, with franchise coffee on the maple top, a couple of artsy-fartsy magazines, and a book by Joseph Campbell that explores mythology. I feebly attempt to educate myself, seeing that I am on Summer vacation, yet the mothers' meaningless banter trumps Campbell's ideas about archetypes and the significance of heroes in myths by far. I calculate the amount of money spent by these five women:

1 grande soy mocha light, $3.30
1 venti caffe latte, $3.40
3 tall white chocolate mochas, $9.80
2 blueberry muffins, $3.20 (of course these are the centerpieces, and the women all claim to be on a diet as they pick away like birds at the crumbly mess)

Nineteen dollars and seventy cents.

Then I remember the jacket I just bought as it was literally hundreds of degrees outside. The complete uselessness of my purchase. I very well should have bought a bra and some panties. Neither will be used any time soon. Or, I hope not. Or, at least not by me. But I don't think I would give them away, either. Hell, I am not going to buy any underwear. Stupid example.

Anyway, the women got up, the children had been read to, the students had earned their grades, and the globe kept spinning. All as usual.

"Excuse me, sir," a frizzy-haired woman in a blazer quietly asks a stern Hispanic man sitting a stone's throw away, " we are on a scavenger hunt for our company and we need- well, are you available for a few minutes?"

The woman is trailed by a group of other businessy-lookin' people who are huddled around this man now waiting for a response.

"No. No, thank you. No. No . . ."

He hated it. He hated everything about what these people just did to him. Surrounding him, capturing him, obligating him. He buried his nose back in the sports section. And then there was Scott.

Scott raised his hand and inquisitively asked, "What do you guys need?"

The group synchronized and moved toward him with anticipation. I, like victim number one, put my head down and acted like I was reading the most important information I had ever laid eyes upon. The last thing I wanted was to be asked an uncomfortable question and then be obligated to give a polite "I don't know" or an "I don't think so, thank you." Some people love it. You know, answering questions, revealing a piece of themselves whenever possible. I think Scott got out of the house just so he could maybe, just maybe, have the opportunity to tell a story or share himself with somebody. I only think this because he, from a distance, lifted his head, raised his arm, and nearly shouted to get the business folks' attention.



I'LL FINISH THIS STREAM LATER.

Boyhood

Ah, my first pocket knife. The responsibility. The privilege. The trust. Its blade was only a couple of inches, but a couple of inches of unbounded opportunity. The carving in the thick pine trunk. The milky blood left running down sharpened steel and bark empowered me. The world would know I existed. Jeff was here. My mark was left on the tree for what I thought would be eternity. My knife, capable and strong.

In All Things, Beauty

This quote from Letters to a Young Poet is great. The human imagination is one of the greatest gifts of all. I am sick of the extreme lack of imagination today. If we aren't being fed by a movie or TV show that provides us with imaginative elements so we don't have to imagine on our own, we just sit around thinking "I'm so bored." And, oftentimes, that's that. I want to be able to safely say that I can think of a unique concept, poem, story, or character on my own. Create something. Don't get me wrong, I think movies and TV are wonderful. I am so thankful we are able to enjoy others' creations. I just wish we didn't rely on it 100 percent for our entertainment. It's a waste of a human mind, frankly.

Almost all of my blogs are pointed directly at myself to criticize myself. I am a guilty hypocrite. I just don't want to be what I hate. These posts will hopefully allow me to look back and remember what I believe and think. Anyway, enough prologuing. Here's the quote:


"If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is not poverty and no poor, indifferent place. And even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world's sounds - wouldn't you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? Turn your attentions to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance."

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Inspired

Today, I went to RCC and listened to Jeff Soto give a presentation to a very small group of people. He basically ran through a bunch of slides of his artwork from his childhood all the way up to his most recent material. It was super interesting to hear his story, especially since he is a Riverside native and still is to this day. Needless to say, I am now super inspired to get back to my art and make something I am proud of. I got plenty of good tips and advice from him and am super encouraged. So, that was fun. I went to Borders bookstore afterwards and read Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke. That just inspired me more. All in all, I am just inspired. I won't repeat myself anymore.

Today is a good day. Tomorrow will be a good day. Good days are here to stay.

The Ol' Switcheroo.

Here comes Slotnick. Mrs. Slotnick, that is. Do the ol' switcheroo with the "l" and the "n" and we get a more appropriate name: Snotlick. The most fitting name for a crappy substitute teacher ever, or at least I think it's the best there is. Actually, if you know of a better one, I will buy you some ice cream. Two scoops. No more. And it has to be from Thrifty. None of that fancy stuff with the crumbled cookies, cake batter, butter, pancakes, dough, cheese, and other additional hydrogenated heart-stoppers shoveled in on a marble slab. That ice cream coats your digestive system with a milky glue from mouth to anus. Anyway, Thrifty ice cream is what I would be willing to buy for you upon hearing a better name than Mrs. Slotnick. Snotlick with the ol' switcheroo. Two scoops.