My own giggles

At the end of the rainbow lies all my dreams (awake and asleep). When looking into someone's eyes, stranger or friend, I am looking for that rainbow. That little piece of themselves that is real and holds the magic of all possibilities. I love looking for that in people. It makes me giggle if they suddenly smile back, their eyes light up, and for that moment we are sharing a secret. (Shhh, we know what is at the end of the rainbow.

With our new found secret we find ourselves rising like balloons to live in a world that nothing but the present exist. For that moment we are lovers, friends, family, enemies. We have shared a life time and we have only just met. In that brief connection is all the possibilities of all the magic that two souls can create together and experience; together and apart. (Yes, this concept makes me giggle).

Our balloons fly into the blue sky like a flock of dreams. In those dreams our present lives only exist as we wish them too. If we enjoy our present lives (with all its circumstances), we can include those aspects into our dream. The dream is that which is created beyond the brush stroke, beyond the pen line, beyond anything we begin to do...because the dream is the reality we choose to live completely in our mind. It feels like a life time, but might only last 1 minute. Then blink, blink....we are back.

Our balloons touch down and we are almost into the water of our emotions. The place where all our thoughts are ricocheted and bounced about. It can either be fun or stressful. It jiggles our hearts, wiggles our stomachs, and makes us giggle! We can splash or canon ball. We can dive head or feet first. We can doggy paddle or back stroke. We swim in our realities as we see fit. It is all up to us. So when people wonder what keeps me smiling, even in spite of the death and suffering my work surrounds me with, it is the realities I find in-between. That space between the breathing in and breathing out. That is the place where magic lives; home of my giggles.

                 Splash.....diving in, becoming the rainbow!!

Interpretations & Perception

There are so many images that provoke a wonder and unknown response within one's emotions that are normally ignored. Through these wonderful pieces of artist expression, those hiden parts of us are touched, probed, even rovoked. The faces...the faces...the FACES!!!! To see what another looks like at such profound moments is to recognize ourselves. The ourselves we hide from. Several of these pieces have done just that for me. In Tissot's painting below, it is "What the Saviour Saw". Looking down from a cross, being murdered in the most horrible of ways, to have all those who just days before honored you, laughed with you, turned to you for support. To see those same faces looking upon you in your helplessness, your disgrace, your humility. There is great Love evident...I don't think there was embarresment.

(James Jacques Tissot (French painter and illustrator, 1836-1902)

The face of obedience and trust. The agony of sacrifice. Would we be able to sacrifice that which is so dear to us for a higher love? What are we willing to sacrifice for another? And is that other worthy of such a deep sacrifice?

(Juan de Valdes Leal, 1657-59...The Sacrifice of Issacc)

On a different note, some modern art also resonats with me, the intrigue between the known and the obvious. The art that strikes a cord (again), triggers that deepest part of me that I rather ignore be it passion, love, dispair, fear, insecurity, lonliness. I AM that which is obscure, I AM that which is not the ordinary, I AM myself, with all the acceptable and non-acceptable parts. So sit back, and breath in Me who can never be wrote about, never truly be touched, but can always be felt.......

http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/alain-khadem.html

Reaching for the Dream

A dream is no different than this dragonfly just within grasp. To reach for it is the point, to go for it is the challenge, to get it is the hope. To believe that what makes one happy is the most significant thing someone can do for themselves is huge. As little red riding hood was skipping through the forest was she dreaming? Was she on her way to Grandma's house because she had to? Or, she wanted to? What if LRRH was a young lady who felt she looked really sexy and cool in her new red cloak. She was dreaming about who is chopping wood deep in the forest. She had heard this chopping several times on her way to Grandma's. Who could it be? It has to be a strong male (or so a female should hope). The blows are powerful and sure. She decides on the spot that she will finally see "who" is doing the chopping. Putting down her basket and carefully taking off her bright red cloak to tuck snug next to it on the ground, she sets off. She just wants a peek. Could it be someone handsome? Muscular? Tall? Her imagination begins to run wild with romantic possibilities. She creeps around trees being very careful not to stir the dry leaves too much. Because it had just rained she was fortunate to find damp leaves to step on that didn't make as much noise. Finally, she is behind a large tree and hears the chopping close. Carefully easing her head around the tree she sees shoulders and arms welding a hefty ax. Whoomph Whoomph...the axe goes rhythmically down and up. For a while she is mesmerized with the rhythm, watching the shoulder muscles bunch and tight, the arms intense with effort. Suddenly, she is stunned out of the melodic rhythm because the whoomphng sound has stopped. She finds herself holding her breath, waiting. He (?) is wiping his brow with his arm; he is resting his forearms on the axe that is now resting on the ground awaiting further use. As LRRH is about to take a quiet breath she hears,

"So, do you want to help or not?"

Her heart feels like it has stopped, she holds her breath tighter, is he talking to her?

Turning, he looks at her with a questioning brow. His long snout is light tan and brindled with shining soft whiskers. His eyes are velvet brown, soft and warm. And his teeth, though alarmingly pointy, somehow are displayed in a warm smile of lips that offers friendship rather than fear.


Watching his ears twitch in anticipation, realization strikes LRRH...ohhhhhhh, this is a fairy tale!

Curiouser & Curiouser

Some days are just too curious to figure out. A delightful thought, an amazing moment, a quick note form a friend. My favorite is to have an unusual thought, find a layered moment, or ponder the possibility of the impossible. To find another layer of myself I haven't explored, to dig into the perception of another (my fav). What do you think? Why?

I just re-learned about the greatest quiz to discover the deepest of truths. It is called the 5 Ys.

Why....do you feel/think that?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

The last Y is the closest to the truth you will ever get...very cool quiz, try it!

So, why do I have pen pal(s)?

Because they fill my isolated world with engagement.

Because I don't have anyone to interact with that I consider equal to my imagination and genius of thought (maybe one now).

Because it is a way for me to be involved with another male without all the drama and problems of a true relationship.

Because it is fun.

Because I have a soft spot for Brits.

See how much fun that was??? :0

And what did you find out?? ummmm??????

Watching is not the same as Looking...

Binoculars are the most amazing invention for humanity. With this simple device you can see the sweat drops on a famous singers forehead, you can watch the back-up singers scratch their arse, you can see EVERYTHING!! The fun stuff, never before realized stuff, the STUFF that makes this untouchable person human.

I love having my binoculars with me. If you think watching a bird eat from the feeder next door it it better at a concert. If you can read lips its even more entertaining. If I was on stage and knew someone had binoculars on me I would be worried. The beauty of watching the fingers stroke violin stings and complex keyboard combinations during a melodic piece. To see the members of the band grinning and gesturing (facial or other) to each other. So see the subtle clues they give each other (that might not be seen from the audience other wise). Ahh, a magic device.

As per this original creation (by me), life holds thousands and thousands of unique possibilities. However, the trick is to see them, know them, experience them with out that booger of expectation tripping up the fun or joy of discovery. Lately, I have begun a journey of daring. Daring of words and expression. Coming from a skunk it is not surprising, but who knew? Though this writing will never find itself on a library self or become a million dollar best seller, it is such a daring adventure to hit the publish key of each post and know that one's words are floating in cyber and accessible to anyone and anyone (even the aliens monitoring our cyber or the government). What insight will they gain?? My art (above) may find itself hanging in some inter-galaxy office on the outside of Mars but in-between the rings of Saturn. Booya, oh yeah. So, un-be-known to me I AM really someone famous! (please don't bow).

   

Peeking

Peeking...not the same as looking. But, can be similar to finding. But the joy when after hours of looking at those green leaves, noticing the various shades, shapes, and hues. To suddenly see a head peeking out..and in my direction!! Why does that get me thrilled? Which makes me think my life and drifted way to close to the shore.

See what could happen!!!

So I rather stay out in the middle of the river...unless there is some cool foliage in which to look for interesting critters to pop up their heads, otters, skunks, geckos. I'll take either, or.
..............to be continued.

What the fodder?

My world is defined as eclectic. How I dress, how I speak, what I do, who I associate with. I unconsciously make way too many list (but dont' tell anyone). I get excited about people who bring excitement into my life, but like skunks, are elusive and hard to find when you want a nice musky encounter. I like variety and someone to keep me on my toes. But, my dream is to know someone who consistently can give me the same giggle and awe yet I am beginning to doubt such a person exist. I have been that for another (I am told), but to know one myself..(?) Always for a little while, never for a long while (maybe they drop dead on me?). Reminds me of a cleaver Irish bloke who exchange 1-2 sentence correspondence with me for 2-3 yrs. I looked forward to his measly sentences. Like the line in a fortune cookie, I would send him my thoughts...and crack "...his reply". I would close the mail with a deep satisfying sigh and ponder his few words for days. One day he wrote "I have a brain tumor". Nothing more...and a few mails later of no further indulged information...his mails ceased.

But, like most creatures, skunks (and other elusive creations), are unique and intriguing for the very reason that they are hard to pin down (aren't they). There are times I run into someone so very interesting who causes me to actually associate with them, play, exchange thoughts, words, deeds. Someone who actually captivates my imagination and giggles my heart. But, unless they are a figment of my imagination or a character in a book or movie, they will soon develop into a regular human being who seek socialization but actually reviles in independent isolation. (...have I just given myself away??). I am a steadfast hermit who lives with another for the sake of having another human being breath in my space. It is also nice to have two to pay bills and it gives me the indulged joy of sharing. I love to share. Even if its one piece of candy. My greatest joy would be to share a poor-boy (long sandwich) with someone on one end and me on the other. Please, not the same sex..not for me, not for this fantasy (I do dare).

As my mind ponders so many things, my fingers write only those selected few that I feel like placing in permanent print. Which reminds me of an exchange once with a Civil war re-enactor from Florida who introduced me to the shared story. We developed a bubbling monk mute and a tiny elf like brat. These two character would keep interrupting our correspondence with their wit, sauciness, or rank comments. This reminds me of an annoying starfish who also interrupted a lovely exchange between myself and another by clanking us on the head any time we strayed into areas too stimulating. The star fish was enduring in its own way (sigh). Exchanges that began with a skip and ended with a "duh". So back to skunks.
     I had a pet skunk once, raised from a baby. Oddly enough, their smell doesn't bother me (must be because I don't drink beer). And between the odd ciggy I partake of after dinner, I don't think that contributes to the fact that though I enjoy the company of skunks I can't ever get near one (well, except for the one baby I save many years ago).
    So, this post is a prattle of fodder. But, poignant in the undertones it has the prospect of revealing.

 While a pair of my knickers drift mysteriously within the sewers of London, I can't help but identify with those tossed knickers. White with little blue flowers. Bought on a whim, worn with a tickle, sent with Hersey chocolate, and tossed in a rush of embarrassment. Who knew knickers could have such an adventure?! I could go away to a monastery and ponder life on the encounters of those knickers. Ad they slowly desintergrate, I wonder-will they be recycled into drinking water? Or, find their way into the ocean. One day, while watching Animal planet I might see a rescue of a penguin who has white with blue flower knickers caught around its middle! What the fodder?