Biting the Bullet in Miami Heat

Bus living is tough, one might envision, and one has envisioned this no strings attached mobile living situation, traveling, living anywhere, especially that idealistic field in the country side, perhaps there are sheep running around, cows grazing, or perhaps a seaside picture. But this is not the case, it is more disgruntled faces of folks wanting you to move on, folks who say to Nando, and I quote, " I use to be a Dead Head." Nando's expression is priceless, his face is absolute cultural mis-communication, I see WTF in the wrinkles on Nando's forehead as he looks to me as an interpreter. I want to laugh so hard, but my laughter is always condescending to both parties, so I restrain.

I explain to Nando, I explain here, I explain to my parents, I explain to children and even our friends. This is a commitment, this is a choice to rebel against the shit. The rent, the bills, the constant work. And this is what is in our hearts, but in reality I think we spend so much time working on developing a framework for ourselves that it ostracizes us out, we become black sheep everywhere, we only find solace in our other bus family friends and they are one pair in the world.

We always console ourselves with the idea that everything we suffer for only allows us greater opportunities in the future, richer educations for our children, unique experiences had by none, but some where else we punish ourselves with the whys of going against the flow, the battle of rents, material comforts and as the sweat drips from our brows and we force ourselves to read books, play games and smile for our children, we raise our eyebrows and say yes this is hard and I don't know how to remedy it.

During the visit to my parents houses Luciano got indoctrinated with television, I would sit and watch with him, all the stories had good vs. evil and my favorite and most difficult to digest is the ...Ever After.

My obsession with this began in Suburbia outside Jacksonville. Death is so much more apparent in suburbia, in deep routines and efficiency there is little room for non linear thinking. Day after day the same, waiting for retirement, a quick calculation of the rest of your life. Wake up NOW, Work NOW, Drive NOW, Home NOW, Eat NOW, Shower NOW, TV NOW, Sleep NOW, repeat Endless.

TV, Movies and media saturation propagates the belief in this lifestyle, as Chomsky says: manufactured consent. 

Although if one begins to analyze the content of  popular films, novels, tv we always end with an "ever after". A main character ventures through a struggle, a battle, any conflict and ends up with resolution. Most of these heroes or protagonists would never allow themselves to settle into a stagnant tv watching lifestyle and if the audience would ever recognize that their hero, the character in which they are suppose to identify with, would never find themselves settled into an an armchair staring absently into a void while this world of ours moved around us in such a hideous way, these characters would slap them (you)  in the face and say "WAKE UP", and then everyone across the plugged in globe would stand up, go outside, rally together, hug their neighbors, kiss their wives, play with their kids and take down big business everywhere.

After all, "Ever After" must entail enlightment, since life never changes, just perspectives. Struggle against adversity creates enlightenment, one comes out on the other side altered. Every character I have encountered ends up with greater consciousness or commits suicide, which may also be attributed to a lesser ideal of enlightenment (maybe an existential enlightenment).

So there must be levels of contentment and enlightenment. There is no ultimate enlightenment as we are never content or all knowing. Cinderella ends up with Prince Charming, the end?, no, they argue over what to eat, she becomes frigid because she is Earthy and longs for a nude swim in the river on a full moon and he is appalled that his princess would be nude in the peasant's river. It's never "Ever After", it is only for a moment and no matter how many summers I sweat in this bus or suffer my own self criticisms of not pushing the envelope in the right way or living up to my unrealistic expectations of myself as a parent and advocate of the philosophies I hold so dear to my heart, I believe that it is all for the best. That the outcome will outweigh the banal comforts of a regular life. That if life is worth living that there must be constant struggle and inner peace with this struggle. A great enjoyment of evolving and living up to a greater cosmic vibration and in the end you leave this body and sigh just in time to catch your breath.

The film never continues, if it does it becomes a B-movie or someone got smart about this and devised a prequel, in which you never have to see Cinderella old, longing to be nude in the fields and remorseful about her turn over to an elitist empire. One might argue that Prince Charming loved her so dear he facilitated her witchy dancing or even denounced his crown for a simple life. But still would he be happy on mead and cheese, of course not, it would just be another placating ploy to make the audience to believe that there is a situation of a linear non changing plateau of happiness and this specific story places the happiness of one upon another, a complete co-dependent relationship. But I digress.

We look at our children and see mirrors of our own attributes that run so deep we never even considered that they were our own. They were there, left untended, grew wild and now that we ask them to stop, our lives shift in order to mold better versions of ourselves, as gently as possible weeding the worst out and fertilizing for the best. We pursue our intuitions, we follow our hearts and hope that our children will do the same.

Update

Remember This Moment

A random moment of life, to freeze, allow it to exist, broaden, stretch, a milli second, a billionth of a fraction of time and space, black holes swimming, stars exploding as we sit in our cars going where?

Mondays

Between mind and space, bus living is it's own spiritual philosophy, a zen is required, a constant alertness, awareness of the present. Every action reveals your mental and emotional state due to a decrease in space. Once everything seems in order, the flux begins again, a world of chaos, a world of serenity, a world simply consumed by activity leaves one inattentive to either state of bring and one simply emerges out on one side or the other.

New Year

Started the New Year without a hangover, like so many people. Enjoyed a brilliant evening bay side, 180 degree view of city fireworks, champagne, Chanel finger tips, vintage flesh and lace dress and my children running, laughing and fire-working with our friends.

The celestial lights twinkled a slight reminder that the heavens are far more outstanding then anything man can produce.

The sub rose as well as sleepy little children and we caressed each other with happiness and love, that we exist and are able to spend our time together.

Baguette Eater

Baguette eater
Mi Amour

Bus Livin'

I have welcomed the most spiritually radiant little girl into this world.

Her name is Imogen Tallulah.

We are back on our Eco Bus and heading North. I'm currently writing the program for our non-profit's next season which will start in October.

Balance is the most difficult thing to achieve, one tries to play so many roles, that it almost becomes easier to just not get up. But the heat wont allow that, by 9am we are sweating and up doing the daily bus routine like living on a boat there is constant maintenance and fine tuning.

We are currently "moored" at the very place I grew up. It is strange to see my children here. This morning I took Luciano to pick wild grapes and everyday he is swimming more and more. Today he dove to the bottom to retrieve his mask; in one breath he went down as deep as he could and then propels himself to the top again by kicking off the bottom. It was amazing to watch, like pearl divers in training.

Being here has made me fall in love with Florida again, it is so very hot and humid. But the air smells like sweet grass and a pine sauna. The insects are large and plentiful but only a reminder of the Earth's fertility. It urges me to breed floppy ear goats and fine egg laying chickens. But then I reminded of why it was so important for me to leave this place. Beyond my family, there are so pretty fearful and small minded folks here. Nando and I joke about them staring at him, but there is a lot of truth in it, we read their minds, "What is that Mexican doing with that white girl?" Perhaps this is regional since no one has ever considered that there could be dark skinned people from other places besides Mexico. But nonetheless, around here they also consider that he could be a full blooded Native American, in which case he deserves respect. So their reactions are mixed, and of course he is from Colombia and his father Japan. But this area is the most southern starting point for the real south, which implies a history of racism, slavery, KKK, and other sorts of discrimination, which still remains as a lite heir around these parts.

I certainly don't wont my children learning these things from other children, but perhaps this could be a nice haven to always visit, pick grapes, eat corn and swim in black water.

I'll be posting on our Bus Blog more frequently at www.ecologicalbusproject.blogspot.com

Summer Time Poem for Miami

John Agard English Girl Eats Her First Mango

(a kind of love poem)

If I did tell she

hold this gold

of sundizzy

tonguelicking juicy

mouthwater flow

ripe with love

from the tropics

she woulda tell me

trust you to be

melodramatic

so I just say

taste this mango

and I watch she hold

the smooth cheeks

of the mango

blushing yellow

and a glow

rush to she own cheeks

and she ask me

what do I know

just bite into it?

and I was tempted

to tell she

why not be a devil

and eat of the skin

of the original sin

but she woulda tell me

trust you to be

mysterious

so I would just say

it’s up to you

if you want to peel it

and I watch she feels it

as something precious

then she smile and say

looks delicious

and I tell she

don’t waste sweet words

when she sweetness

in your hand

just bite it man

peel it with the teeth

that God gave you

or better yet

do like me mother

used to do

and squeeze

till the flesh

turns syrup

nibble a hole

then suck the gold

like bubby

in child mouth

squeeze and tease out

every drop of spice

sounds nice

me friend tell me

snd I remind she that ain’t

apple core

so don’t forget

the seed

suck that too

the sweetest part

the juice does run

down to your heart

man if you see

the English rose

she face was bliss

down to the pink

of she toes

and when she finish

she smile

and turn to me

lend me your hanky

my fingers are all sticky

with mango juice

and I had to tell she

what hanky

you talking about

you don’t know

when you eat mango

you hanky

is you tongue

man just lick

your finger

you call that

culture

like your finger

you call that

culture

unless you prefer

to call it

colonization

in reverse

Every City and further

The world is comprised of archetypes, usually better seen on small islands or communities. But even within the major cities of the world, people are all the same which in turn makes the cities all the same.

New York, Miami, San Francisco, Paris, London, Athens, Helsinki and all the rest, they are nearly, minus a few cultural aspects, exactly the same. You have areas where the "cool" people are, you have areas where the poor people are, you have areas of rich people you have areas of people walking around in suits all day and areas that we all visit and might be defined as the heart of the city.

People are all the same, no language, color or culture separates us, just our minds.

In life you choose to either live truths or to deceive yourself as well as others by playing, perpetuating or participating in the activities of maintaining active spiritual and conscious sleep.

We follow patterns so easily, so comfortably, we think our paths are made righteous by monetary, egotistical or material affirmations. We are born with these values already in place, it is seen as the cogs that make the world turn, to obtain the things we think will make our lives fulfilled and our souls satisfied. We are already denied what is in our human spirit, to bond to nature, to feel the Earth, to breathe its air and drink its water. Everything has been trapped and contained. We drink water from purchased bottles made of petroleum, we through our food waste into petroleum made bags and pile them on barges, on land, in the sea, we are brought into an illogical world detached from nature.

We all feel it in our bones, in our veins, but we all do nothing. The world has severed community, there are no more people uprising against the things they do not wish to live any more, we are detached from ourselves and have no grounding.

We never make the changes necessary until great tragedy.

America

America,

You vile sterile land of repressed grazing cattle.

Vomited asphalt everywhere.

Postmodern Lego land.

Primitive inhabitants,

Suburban sprawl.

America, you prostitute.

You economic whore,

Spreading your disease around the world.

You lie, you propagate and steal.

Our Mothers eat fast food,

Our babies, genetically modified, processed:

High fructose corn syrup pumps our hearts,

Then coagulates in the Earth.

Mortgaged my brain for a habitual life.

No engagement required, whew...!

Ecological Bus Project

We are touring in our bus, check out my bus blog www.ecologicalbusproject.blogspot.com

or see my new non-profit organization and our project at www.artofculturalevolution.org

I'll be writing more posts here in the next coming months.

Check out my other blogs and website

Natura
Consumer America
Our Bus Project and Future Travels
The Art of Production
American Recreation

www.blairbutterfield.com

Internet-less Wonder World

I have been thoroughly enjoying a technology free existence in which my productivity and joy have increased a hundred fold.

The Spring has been beautiful and fertile. There are exotic flowers and plants surprising me every where in our jungle.

The bus is nearing completion and soon we will be traveling full time.

Failed Optimism: soon published

A preview of the soon published book of suburban photographs

Failed Optimism, American Suburbs today:

A collection of photographs by Blair Butterfield.

The streets are silent, the sidewalks are covered with grass like archeological finds. Cars are parked like armored machinery in front of the houses. Anyone who you might encounter outside is guarded with a fierce stare and uneasy fear.

The architecture is contrary: with friendly decorative concrete designs, patterns, bright colors, awnings and a backdrop of a surreally blue Florida sky.

We imagine the first inhabitants of these places:

Dick and Jane seeing Spot run. Dishwasher day dreamers.

They were a generation that had complete faith in a system that has lead us to the road we are all so desperately trying to diverge from as it crumbles beneath our feet. To untangle the international web it wove and is still weaving would require the same propaganda techniques employed to deceive us in the beginning.

Post war Men, like the Bowerbird, constructed homes designed to keep their wives and raise their children while they were away working in the inner city. What they were working on, would eventually lead this “nuclear family” to become fractured. With industrialization came mass production and soon mother and wife were separated from the home, as she had graduated in society, and was now deemed: capable of work outside the home.

Appliances, canned food, frozen dinners, baby formula anything that would synthesize in exchange for time, was the new home life. Children raised by others as Mother brought home a second income. Not only did this raise the cost of living as families now had combined incomes, it separated women from the natural bonding that a child needs in the early years of life. Many agree that this creates an imbalance in an individual which primes them for a life of consuming to achieve illusionary emotional fulfillment and happiness.

Consumption became a lifestyle. Appliances were sold as futuristic and revolutionary. It started a phenomena of consuming products as identity. Product mythologies entered every home through advertising: TV, radio, print, even the waste from the product advertises itself as it enters its last stage of life as: trash. Consumer ideology saturates the media across the globe and is devouring our civilization like the plague. In consumer society enough is never enough. There is a longing for more and better: a need that is never satiated.

Micro[Pollen]tin: Like bees in a corporate hive. Better then suburbia, a corporate town and its own metropolitan:

The idea of suburban neighborhoods spawned a phenomena of ideal living propaganda. In reality the idea is simply a ploy for corporations to house and feed their workers. Like the old mining towns of the past. Where miners would work for room, board and coupons that were only exchangeable for goods at company stores, which usually charged higher prices than regular retailers. It is a little less obvious in more modern living situations as seen in micropolitans. For instance, Plano Texas. This little place was nearly a ghost town before ten major American corporations decided to buy it all up and put their corporate headquarters in its center. Outside of its center they have contracted developers to build popular franchised restaurants, a plethora of themed shopping , a cinema and two different lifestyle living situations. One is the popular suburban dream of a house, a yard, a garage and the other is a more city style apartment living just outside of the shopping and eating place. Little do most employees of the corporations know that after they get their salary from Frito-Lay and go spend it at the Plano cinema or Plano grocery store, that they are in fact just returning the money to Frito-Lay or Bank of America. (These names are used for example, but they are in fact a part of this micropolitan of Plano Texas.) It is like herding technique that involves deep rooted psychology of the fragile emotions of the human mind and the disgusting greed of money and ego.

It is ironic that the idea behind suburbia, the ideas of protecting, nurturing and connecting with a community, has become the very utility that has separated community and facilitated an isolated, competitive consumer lifestyle.

These photographs seek to capture the reminisce of these homes and ideas. Perhaps all of these neighborhoods will be replaced with duplexes, tower blocks and paved parking lots. They are apart of or cultural archaeology and provide great insight into our current civilization and perhaps could offer us a perspective to look into our future.

All images can be seen:

http://www.blairbutterfield.com/lostinfl.htm

http://www.blairbutterfield.com/america2.htm

inter-thought

Moments forgotten, a documentation of all things passed through my mind in hopes of a profound interesting thought? To pass beyond the physical now and to really engage. How does one feel, not in his body but as a part. We are all being buried alive, quickly and seemingly slowly. So many distractions. Bright lights like sharp laser beams coming through my eyes piercing my brain. A cold species of metals is a parasite that lives upon us. Slowly it works its way into our everyday, in our hands, in our ears, in our mouths, under our skin, soon in our brain. They sterilise us and give us cancer. We become more inert than we already are. Are our brains trying to escape the physicality of the body? The brain is an organism more powerful than any other force. It alone controls the entire body physically, psychologically, sub-consciously and we still do not understand it entirely. Even after death it continues to operate for 37 hours. Are we separate from it or is it who we think of as “me”. That moment of where did I put my keys and you stand in the middle of the room and your head moves unconsciously to a particular spot as you gaze blankly. Around and around the room you looked, but there they are as your eyes focus. As though your subconscious knew all along.

The internet is one of the most cerebral activities. Anything your mind ever wonders, instantly satisfied with many sources, images, videos, and a multitude of opinions. Learn anything, be an expert at everything, but again our bodies are forgotten and inertia kicks in like rigor mortis. Especially with a taste of western globalisation in everybody’s mouths. A life style of quick, easy, fast, in my car, there and back with as little effort as possible upon the physical body. Meanwhile the media has a frenzy documenting the illnesses of the culture it perpetuates. A viscous cycle of distractions. One is unable to write anything anymore, unless the writing its self is in the cycle and provides a distraction. People want to be distracted. They need it, the World wishes to be decieved, so it shall be.

Mundus vult decipi, otherwise fear would overcome. The social climate of today is an elaborate patchwork of neurosisneuroses. And this is the attribute of a society where everyone is forced to compete in a multitude of levels. It created the cycle and allows it to grow bigger and bigger, there are no limits. The fear is diminished by a forced acceptance and the forced acceptance is compensated for by consumption. Allowing the person to feel that they gained and that they need to gain more. And the media is 100% responsible for this and its reinforcement, so much so that it provides a selection of reinforcement like a box of sweets. Are you this sweet or that one, whichever one, it’s all the same. And this accounts for the majority of neurosis. The other stems from this being the most claustrophobic society ever. Everyone in their cars, boats, airplanes, the inescapable and relentless advertising. We can not move freely anywhere. Everything is owned and yet nothing truly is. When all of this construction falls and human beings are stripped of these puerile and infantile excesses their money will mean nothing. Its absurdity will be revealed as well as the overall problem. It is unfortunate that we have played this game too long to change it now and the few that try are just pushed to the side by the majority. It would take millions to behave radically and none, at no fault of their own are willing to sacrifice the comfort or potentially the survival of those that they love.

On the other side there is the self. An absolute reason for being, may not to be to change the world and who is one to do so. But they have, and I’m not happy in what they have created. So, I write and make things as an artist only to have them criticise in the light of capital and all of the above. What is there to receive pleasure from, if I identify with few and enjoy only a few of the things left. The land is going, the boundaries put high and I’m forced to be put in a limited function. Where am I to find hope and inspiration except in my discontent?

New Years Eve and Birthdays

I haven't really taken too much time to analyze why I find these two occasions particularly depressing. Perhaps it is the endless quest of deciding what to do, but in the years of experience I find the best solution is either to do absolutely nothing which involves eating delicious food and spending the evening indulging in the pleasures of a lover, close family, friends or anyone to hold a good altering conversation with.

Entering a new year of life, either by birth or calender, in an intoxicated, hungover state never was very much appealing to me. It seems the contrary of what we deeply wish for. It's as if with every recreational drug use or sip of alcohol we imagine some magical wisdom coming into our bodies and minds to liberate us from the terrible sober existence that is YOUR real life. Only to wake to dehydration, forgetfulness and the same life. If you want your life to change then YOU must do something DIFFERENT, then the same ritual and habitual activities.

In my recent reading of some Sufi literature from perhaps the 70s coming out of the 60s. They have suggested that recreational drug use such as LSD, mushrooms and other psychoactives (natural or man made) had given people false enlightenment, meaning that they were enlightened to something for a short time of consuming the drug, but soon after the effects wore off they returned to being robots. It is suggested that the way to true FREE WILL or enlightenment is through powerful mental exercises such as meditation. I tend to agree with this idea, for sometime I have suspected it to be true.

Through out MY life I have had many chances to contemplate in isolation. Times waiting in or driving in cars, long bicycle rides, poverty, elevators, home alone, ferries, airplanes, waiting rooms, bathrooms, showers, etc..In those times I clear my mind and concentrate on the present state of being. I ask myself how I came here and how this place came to exist. Once I move beyond these I allow my brain to open itself and look inside, to explore my thoughts and behavior and to be honest with myself. This reflection ultimately leads back to civilization and then the physics of the universe or the existence of anything at all, which out of all phenomena is THE phenomena and there is nothing left to do but smile and love.

I recently wrote a letter to a friend in which I discussed this topic of spirituality and meditation. I mentioned that to me, the objective of most religious or contemporary spirituality is to let oneself be undone and to rid yourself of preconceptions, to allow every experience to be new and enjoyed. But this seems to be a circle in which we return ourselves to something like, ignorance is bliss, but achieved through knowledge, acceptance and appreciation. I likened it to the experience of a Gold Fish with a 3 second memory. That everything becomes renewed and therefore grossly enjoyed. That may sound really cynical, because I enjoy most of my connotations from previous experiences, and I do use them to make expectations, but not exclusively. But there are exceptions that apply to most, the MOST that operate on auto pilot who are asleep 100% of the time.

I just considered for the first time that Television instantly silences the mind, again of MOST, and it is ironic since we work so hard to achieve the silencing of our thoughts for deep meditation and spiritual growth. I suppose the difference is that TV silences all thought.

I wish I could articulate these ideas clearer, but the medium is always an obstacle.

Art Basel and Worker Explotations

Ah, that time of year that everyone waits for in Miami.

The time of year when South Florida is graced with the thousands of money hungry art pimps and whores.

This is when most of the locals make their money to survive for the rest of the year. I don't really care about that, since most Miamians that you encounter are greedy nasty people who will stab you in the back for a buck or points for their egos. And encounters of these people are either on the road in your car or in a store shopping, because everyone is so self, cell phone, car and money focused that they dare not be caught on a bus, walking or worst yet a bike (we love you Miami cyclists, critical mass!!)

But recently I was browsing Craigslist for work and what did I see? I saw post after post of galleries, artists and even institutions soliciting for free, yes FREE workers.

Okay let us summarize the situation:

For a year people have had none or very little work. People have lost their jobs and are desperate. Even Union workers are accepting non-union jobs because everyone knows that in times like this they can pay very little and get people to work and for ridiculously long hours.

So Art Basel comes into town and these galleries, curators and artists want people to "Intern"?!!

And they want you to have experience to "Intern"!? Isn't that the point of an internship?

You can afford a flight from London, to package and crate all your pieces, ship them, to rent a car or take cabs, to eat at all the fancy places, to stay in a nice hotel or rent a house for a week, but you can't afford to pay someone to hang the artwork on the walls? So you ask for "experienced interns"?

This matter doesn't even concern me personally, but when I see people mistreating or taking advantage of others, I call it like it is. Why don't people stand up for themselves?

Another occurrence that I have recently observed is in the film industry. My husband works in film and tries to screen his jobs by choosing to work with people who pay good and treat everyone fairly. But you would be surprised how mistreated these film crews are. For instance, Doritos, big USA company, product all over the globe, is doing a commercial in Miami. I think it was a photo shoot. Our friend was the art director and was given very little budget to build and dress and entire set. She needed an extra person to help her build and this person was paid $50 a day for two days working more than 12 hours a day!!

Another instance, a music video. Music videos are the worst, they expect to shoot an entire video in one day, they expect you to work over time without extra pay, they feed you junk, if anything and the amount of labor is beyond the amount of people they have hired. This isn't always true, but the majority would agree. Some R&B singer named Trina came into Miami at 4pm to shoot a video. The crew was called to be at the studio at 4pm. They built and shot three or four sets in one day, got paid for one day and didn't leave the studio until 5am.

The workers are afraid to join a union, they see that the union takes money out of their checks and that scares them. But they must be told that the union will protect their rights and wages. That it will force these companies and productions to treat people fairly!

It is strange to me that America calls its self the "land of the free" but everyone is slaving for the dollar. However, in Europe, everyone is protected and granted vacations, healthcare, lunch, breaks, good pay and job security. What is so hard about this that the US can not implement it?

Thinking to re-think

I haven't been doing much thinking recently. I've been concentrating on the doing aspect of existence. And without too much thought I began to worry that my mind may go or perhaps become out of practice. I have discovered this to be impossible, instead the mind becomes focused and sharp. There is no frivolous conversation needed. Your intentions become wholesome and true.

For instance, I have not attended any big social occasions such as an art opening, for a VERY long time. Now that Luciano is older and enjoys going out, we attended such an event. People want to talk for the sake of hearing themselves speak. They stand in circles with their mouths moving and their eyes wondering around the room behind you, occasionally peering over your shoulder. This is terrible engagement. I look in to a persons eyes when they speak to me and try to gaze into their soul and feel their energy and get a sense of who they are, where they have been and perhaps what experiences have brought them to say what they wish to communicate to me.

This is hard to find, even a friend who calls himself a Buddhist could care less about what you are saying to him and prefers to eye up everyone else standing around you.

I was considering this stupid credit and 401k believing generation that we come from and its progress in the context of humanity. There is a chart of human inventions through out the years and this chart shows a peak around the time of Thomas Edison and a recession thereafter. I attribute this recession to the mass consumption of, yes, TV among other useless time consuming activities, like working in retail, driving cars across town, talking on the phone endlessly, computer games and by now everyone knows what I am saying.

It is so hard to regain this mind frame. A mind free of brainwashing and conditioning. I suffer it, I know I do. Someone once recommended an Anton Wilson book titled Undoing Yourself. When money comes I might give it a try. I need everything to be a new, semi first time perspective. Un-fog my mind.

Otherwise, gaining complete discipline and self control is a start. But this becomes complicated when involved in a relationship and your partner perhaps isn't in the same place. It is like being vegan and your partner not, can you really eat separately and be connected, I don't think so. Progress must be made together and one must be careful not to out grow the other. And of course the desire is stronger in one then the other. But not enough to tread on that sacred line

every couple has that keeps them balanced together.

I finally started a new painting and some new photos:

Busy

Been being busy.

Change is in the air.

On Motherhood

I have for awhile avoided this topic, since it seems only identifiable to other mothers. But as we were all once children we must identify with all children and perhaps see ourselves as parents and teachers of all children.

When Luciano was born I felt great joy and the greatest fear I've ever known. I would not say this fear was rooted in how inadequate I would be as a mother, but a fear that made me want to put him back inside my stomach and let him live there forever, protected from the ugly world. Which at the time included cars, germs, negative energy, TV, pollution, capitalism, being policed, bad food, bad ideas and all the other anxieties we just eventually accept. Somehow these words do not completely describe how I felt, it was so much more, it was the moment he opened his eyes and perhaps he would want to ask me, why would you bring me into this world. This was my fear.

I assuage these fears with the belief that in order to better civilization, you must put a generation of conscientious thinkers into the world. That I will teach my children to be wise, sensitive, thoughtful, healers of negativity.

Time went on in the first days and he was perfectly content, no crying, no sleepless nights, no colic, nothing, just perfect bliss. I usually attribute this to the natural waterbirth, but perhaps it is just his disposition. And that is what I try to remember, he is already himself, born with the intuition to comprehend, sent through the stars with the collective memory of every sentient being that ever existed.

I tried to make everything perfect, everything clean, everything ideal, but this is impossible and as he has grown older I don't even hold those ideals any longer. Things manifest as they do and I can just help him not to hurt himself and sit back and enjoy.

It seems the older he gets the more relaxed I become in allowing myself a little frustration. For instance if he is tired, most of the time I can lay down with him while breastfeeding and he goes to sleep, but other times, I do this and then he cries, so I stand up and rock him while he still has the breast, and he closes his eyes and then I lay down WITH him and he cries, this is my frustration. I want to be painting, I need to clean house and take a shower and I'm all alone and he wants to do nothing but sleep and instead he cries. But I have learned to appreciate this, this time is fleeting and it forces me to be patient.

The thing that really surprised me, since I had no real expectations of Motherhood, is that the responsibility and the desire for the best would be so stressful and solitary. That the desire to stimulate and educate at every moment would be a job shared equally. But men are men and women, women. Like that Sean Connery film where he cures cancer with a fruit and calls in a female assistant to help him figure out how he did it, but in the meantime the rain forest where the fruit is native is being destroyed and they never duplicate the results and in discussion they find out that the woman was cleaning the ants off where as the man was just leaving them be. Like dirt on the floor doesn't really seem to be an inhibitor of letting the baby crawl on the floor and then putting his fingers in his mouth.

But all must be forgiven and overlooked or at least compensated for and this is what makes a good mother. The ability to maintain a balance between man, woman, family, and individual needs. And this ability always comes at the cost of the mothers individuality, her desires always sacrificed and done so without spite or resentment. And in return she has their love.

This is all in the context of a stay at home Mom without any help or maid, with which I think the experience would be completely stress free. Just someone to do the things that need to be done instead of trying to do them and only halfway doing a good job and not to mention injuring yourself in the action because you are holding baby on one hip and washing dishes with one hand and cooking while someone knocks on the door and you have to go to the bathroom. But that is the comedy of it all. Except in it, I'm not laughing.

It is all out weighed by a simple smile and cuddle. Giggling little voice and sweet gestures.