Cool Shades
Cool Shades
creativity arrives in unpredictable, vibrant bursts
moments that cannot be summoned at will
the force of lightning that illuminates the path
the first drop of rain that dares to fall before a raging storm
the sudden shower of a summer rain
it washes over the drought of ideas
with a refreshing shower that invigorates the soul
and just as quickly, the burst of brilliance recedes
leaving us to navigate the aftermath of inspiration
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"It was a foggy afternoon when I decided to call on Dr. Rank.
...
I felt that from such an abundance of life, I must make a selection of what might interest him. He had made a specialty of the "artist." He was interested in the artist. Would he be interested in a woman who had lived out all the themes he wrote about, the Double, Illusion and Reality, Incestuous Loves Through Literature, Creation and Play. All the myths (return to the father after many adventures and obstacles), all the dreams. I had lived out the entire contents of his profound studies so impetuously that I had had no time to understand them, to sift them. I was confused and lost. In trying to live out all of my selves...
...
He considered neurosis a failed work of art, the neurotic a failed artist. Neurosis, he had written, was a manifestation of imagination and energy gone wrong. Instead of a fruit or a flower, I had borne obsessions and anxieties. It was this concept which appealed to me, that he did not call it an illness, but, as in nature, a misbegotten object which might have equal beauty and fascination as the relatives of more legitimate and noble birth.
...
"You tried to live your life like a myth. Everything you dreamed or fantasied, you carried out. You are a myth-maker."
"I am tired of lies and deformities. I need absolution. I must confess to you the mood which preceded my talk with you. I made this note on the train: 'On my way to see Dr. Rank I am planning impostures, cheatings, tricks.' I begin to invent what I will tell Dr. Rank, instead of coordinating truths. I begin to rehearse speeches, attitudes, gestures, inflections, expressions.
...
I see myself talking and I am sitting within Rank, judging me. What should I say to create such and such effect I meditate lies as others meditate confessions. Yet I am going to him to confess, to get help in the solution of my conflicts, which are too numerous, and which I do not succeed in mastering by writing. ..."
-- of , Vol. 1
La routine
La routine c'est la prison. Qu'elle soit voulue et confortable ou subie. Le plus accablant c'est celle impose par les ncessits et les obligations auxquelles je ne peux droger. Dans un autre scnario, je pourrais tre libre de choisir, or je ne le suis pas. Je suis las, fatigu. Ce train-train m'enserre comme une gangue, une toile d'araigne. D'aucuns diront c'est toi qui choisis et diriges ta vie.../...
Song for 4/14
i pondered over
the words i've read
the lines that touched my soul
the stories stitched into the fabric of my being
literature has this exquisite power
to transport, transform, and transcend
Today, I'm spending much needed time in my bullet journal. Looking forward to the rest of the month ahead.
I like to draw mini art pieces in the calendar pages of my journal.
I'm always fascinated to know what sort of stationery journaling activities & interests others enjoy
DiaryProud mum Madonna drops in on son Roccos Miami show
Proud mum Madonna pops drops in on son Roccos Miami show
Do you know which your is within
Here's a full episode of my new Unfiltered - This one is Entry 3 -
It goes into the need for abilities of response, responsibilities, for dimensional shifts. Namely in this one - accessing the 5th dimension from the 3rd - as many are discussing in these days.
You can make writing poems a part of your daily practice by adding them to journal entries.
I created a website for just that, and you can try it today at giantheartpoetry.com
Florida Woman Sentenced to One Month In Prison for Selling Ashley Bidens Diary
Florida woman Aimee Harris was sentenced Tuesday to a month in prison and three months of home confinement for stealing and selling Ashley Biden's diary four years ago to the conservative group Project Veritas.
Aimee Harris, right
Manhattan Federal Judge
Museum employee hangs his own art in Munich institutionand gets the chop
Everyone that was going to participate in the take over at
the Central campus gathered in the admin hallway. No one said
anything at first. We just stood there looking at each other. Casey
asked me to deliver a note to a friend she once new at the Central
campus. I said I would do my best to deliver the note. With everyone
gathered, I gave everyone one more chance to back out.
The walk to Central was a quiet one, a few people chatted back
and forth trying to keep the mood a little less serious. I was so nervous
and afraid but I tried to look confident. I didnt want the others to
know that I was scared.
I dont know if the Hulk was expecting guest but he didnt look
surprised when we entered the gym. He had a sort of welcome to the
festivities grin on his face. It was a little unnerving. There was a sharp
pain in the pit of my stomach as I announce to the Hulk that we were
demanding that he leave Central and the local area with his goons. The
room went silent. I felt as if I was beet red in the face. The Hulk stood
up from his chair. He said something sarcastic like Im sorry, have we met
Trying to sound confident, I told him who I was.
He said, Look little lady Im going to pretend that you and
your friends here havent disturbed my festivities. Just turn around and
walk away and I wont have my goons beat you to a pulp.
I took a deep breath and said, Were not leaving but you and
your goons can leave quietly or with a fight.
The Hulk and his goons began to laugh. You are no challenge
for us you dont have a chancePrepare to Die!
I puffed up my chest in a display of courage. I didnt come
alone I brought a bunch of friends with me. The gym filled with gang
members from around the community.
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Fell a bit behind with the journalling this week, needed to catch up. Anyway, here's this week's layout!
Loving those stark blacks. :dalove: Maybe I'll start using black more often :daplot:
I got to interview Elliott Gish about her amazing debut, Grey Dog. (Released today!)
One of the things we talked about was the diary format and how it influences time and structure and narrative distance.
Does anybody here like to write in this format
Whatever structure you like, how do you make choices about POV and narrative distance
Today I managed to read a portion of about non fiction tools. From whole book I took one advice which I posted as a blog entry.
tldr summarize the world around you through description of your core senses like: smell, touch, taste etc.
It's pretty obvious but I was never aware of this.
Since quite some time I write where most of my entries seem boring and lack of color. With this new toolset I will try to make them more interesting.
It was a dirty collection of memories.
An hour from now I'll be interviewing for a master's program I would love to get into and have been thinking about for years... I am so nervous. Wish me all the luck in the world!
Its early and I have butterflies in my stomach. I want today to
go well. All the gangs have designated places to be around the Central
campus. Our attack will occur soon after the start of the wrestling
tournament. The gang leaders have agreed that we will only use the
force necessary to get the Hulk and his goons to leave Central. I am
keeping my fingers crossed that the violence doesnt escalate into
something ugly. I dont want to see anyone seriously injured,
especially those that are on our side.
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Matt has sent word that he has received our plans. He had a
few suggestions that might make the take-over a little easier. The Hulk
has scheduled a wrestling match for tomorrow morning. The Hulk and
most of his goons will be present in the gym for the event. Having
everyone at the Central campus in the same location of the school will
make our attack easier. I am holding a final strategy meeting this
evening with the allied gang leaders.
Matt has made allies inside the Central campus among several
of the current residence that do not like the Hulks style of leadership.
This is good news. Allies inside will make the battle a little easier. I
am keeping my fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly and that
any injuries acquired will be minor.
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"hold onto your steering wheel, because theres a carbon cloud looming over your joyride
Excerpts from the of a on the verge of breakdown Week8:
Jag piggar upp mig med att titta p ett gammalt foto som jag bde tog och publicerade 1999, frn San Diego frestllande en sprvagn med desitination Tijuana (eller iaf till grnsen).
Bilden finns med text p den hr sidan, upplagd 13 maj 1999:
I've just started reading William L. Shirer's Berlin Diary, and I can recommend it (so far)
Shirer was a foreign correspondent (for a US paper) in Berlin, and this covers the period 1934-1940.
Sure, it's easy to find historical parallels (because you can cherry-pick), but blimey this is a sobering read.
We don't have any great orators today (like Hitler was, according to Shirer). But then again, people's sensibility has deteriorated so much that fascism might no longer require them.
Met with the gang leaders and shared the notes from Matt. The
atmosphere in this meeting was calmer than the previous one. The
gang leaders shared their thoughts on how to proceed toward getting
rid of the Hulk and his goons. Everyone agreed that the Hulk was a
nuisance. The longer he stayed in town the stronger he was going to
get. We have all decided to band together in a show of force. A lot of
violence is expected. I gave the gang leaders the opportunity to back
out of the conflict if they found the risk was to great. No one withdrew his
or her gang. I will send a courier to inform Matt on how we plan to
proceed.
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"where some friends did sup there // and we with them // and late went home //
Pepys has smuggled a poem into this entry.
Interesting: The oldest millennials will turn 60 in 2040. I wonder what the world will look like then All the men that began to grow bushy beards in the teens will be all gray. It will look like ancient Greece, but mid-21st century. (I love anachronisms!)
Sheriff Pete and Tony retrieved another note from Matt.
Not everyone is happy with the way the Hulk runs the Central
Campus. This is a good thing. Matt got in an argument this morning
with someone trying to take his breakfast. The bully was trying to
prove to his pals that he was big and tough. Matt won the argument
after a knock down fight.
Matt made some friends. One in particular, a girl named Hemy.
She said that there are people at Central that do not like the Hulk or his
goons. The Hulk and his inner circle have most of the people who live
at Central afraid. Food and a place to sleep seem to be the strongest
reasons why people stay. Others stay because they enjoy the wrestling
tournaments and that way of life. Central reminds me of the stories I
heard when I was young about the gladiators. The guards force people
to fight as the Hulk and his goons watch. Matt said there are 10 goons
in the Hulks inter circle.
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Sheriff Pete and Tony crept through the shadows of the Central Campus, their steps muffled by the thick layer of dust that coated the ground. They exchanged wary glances as they approached the designated note drop, a dimly lit alley behind one of the crumbling buildings.
Tony reached out a hand, snagging a crumpled piece of paper from beneath a loose brick. Another note from Matt, he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sheriff Pete unfolded the note, his eyes scanning the hastily scrawled words. Seems like our boys been busy, he remarked, a frown creasing his brow.
Not everyone is happy with the way the Hulk runs the Central Campus, Tony read aloud, his voice tinged with apprehension. This is a good thing.
Sheriff Pete nodded in agreement. Sounds like Matts stirring up some trouble.
The note continued, detailing Matts encounter with a breakfast-stealing bully that very morning. Tonys eyes widened as he read about the knock-down fight that ensued, his admiration for Matt growing with each word.
Looks like our boy knows how to hold his own, Tony said, a proud smile playing at his lips.
Sheriff Pete grunted in approval. That he does.
But it wasnt just Matts fighting skills that were making waves. He had made some unexpected allies, including a girl named Hemy who shared a similar disdain for the Hulk and his cronies.
Hemy says there are people at Central who do not like the Hulk or his goons, Tony relayed, his voice tinged with excitement. Seems like Matts finding himself a little rebellion.
Sheriff Pete nodded thoughtfully. The Hulk and his inner circle may have most of the people here afraid, but theres strength in numbers.
The note painted a grim picture of life at Central, where fear and survival were the driving forces keeping its inhabitants in line. But amidst the oppression, there were those who found solace in the wrestling tournaments and the camaraderie they provided.
Central reminds me of the stories I heard when I was young about the gladiators, Tony mused, his mind drifting to tales of ancient battles and valiant warriors. The guards force people to fight as the Hulk and his goons watch.
Sheriff Petes jaw clenched at the thought of innocent lives being manipulated for the entertainment of others. We need to put an end to this, he declared, his resolve firm.
Tony nodded in agreement. And we will. But first, we finish the takeover plan.
As they folded the note and tucked it safely into their pockets, they made a silent vow to bring an end to the tyranny of the Hulk and his inner circle, no matter the cost.
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4/2/1980: Andy Warhol meets Pope John Paul II in St. Peters Square. They finally took us in to our seats with the rest of the 5,000 people and a nun screamed out, Youre Andy Warhol! Can I have your autograph . . . Then I had to sign five more autographs for other nuns. And I just get so nervous at church...And then the pope came out, he was on a gold car, he did the rounds, and then finally he got up and gave a speech against divorce in seven different languages...That took three hours.
Madie trudged through the bustling market plaza, her eyes scanning the rows of tables in search of a new pair of shoes. Her current ones were on their last legs, the soles worn thin and the seams threatening to give way with each step.
But finding a replacement pair proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated. None of the shoes she tried on seemed to fit quite right, and the ones that did were in even worse condition than her own.
With a frustrated sigh, Madie resigned herself to the fact that she would have to make do with her worn-out shoes for a little while longer. As she made her way through the crowd, she couldnt help but overhear snippets of conversation about the Central Bobcatsthe notorious gang of troublemakers who ruled the Central High School campus with an iron fist.
Her heart sank as she listened to tales of their latest exploits, their reign of terror spreading far beyond the confines of the school grounds. Madie had never been one to back down from a challenge, but the thought of crossing paths with the infamous Hulk sent a shiver down her spine.
Hes so evil, one voice whispered, sending a chill down Madies spine. They say its because of his father, always beating on him whenever he lost a tournament.
Madie frowned, her mind racing with questions. Was it true that the Hulks cruelty stemmed from a lifetime of abuse Or was it simply a rumor spread by frightened townsfolk desperate to make sense of his reign of terror
One thing was for certainthere was no denying the darkness that lurked within the Hulks heart. His actions spoke louder than any words, his enjoyment of others pain a chilling testament to his ruthless nature.
As Madie continued her search for shoes, a sense of unease settled over her. The Central Bobcats may have ruled the school with fear and intimidation, but Madie refused to let their reign go unchallenged. She may not have been afraid of much, but the Hulk was a force to be reckoned withone that she wasnt sure she was ready to face.
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Tony, Matt, Jonas, and Madie huddled together behind the rusted remains of a forgotten playground, their voices hushed as they discussed their plan.
We need to find a spot where we can pass messages without anyone noticing, Tony said, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Jonas nodded in agreement. Somewhere easily accessible but out of sight.
Central High School Campus sprawled before them, a maze of crumbling buildings and overgrown pathways. It was a stark contrast to their familiar Bear Country High School.
Definitely not as cozy as our old school, Madie remarked, her eyes scanning the desolate landscape.
Tony chuckled. No kidding. But well make do.
They set off, weaving their way through the deserted corridors of Central. Despite its size, they soon discovered that there were pockets of emptiness scattered throughout the campus, hidden from prying eyes.
Looks like the guards stick to the main areas, Matt observed, ducking behind a row of abandoned lockers.
Jonas nodded. That works in our favor.
After what felt like hours of exploration, they stumbled upon the perfect spota secluded courtyard tucked away behind the art building. It was overgrown with ivy and littered with fallen leaves, but it offered the privacy they desperately needed.
This is it, Tony declared, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.
Madie nodded in agreement. Its perfect.
With their secret spot secured, they set to work devising a system for passing messages back and forth. They agreed on a series of signals and codes, ensuring that their communications would remain undetected by the watchful eyes of the guards.
As they finalized their plans, a sense of determination washed over them. Despite the challenges ahead, they knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything Central High School threw their way.
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