Monday, October 26, 2009
Thought Salad
Ok, so I'm back after an extended hiatus.I'm not going to make excuses and promise to always be here. Let's face it, Twitter is awesome. It allows me to update my bullshit in real time. But with the death of Mac Tonnies, it's caused me to reevaluate how much I want to share myself and the things I encounter with the world.
Those who follow me on Twitter already know how broken up I am over Mac's death.What makes me saddest of all is that to my knowledge, he was not a romantic relationship, and as I understand it, had a lot of difficulty finding and maintaining one.And I think was a symptom of his core sadness which surfaced from time to time in his posts and his Tweets. I think we shared a general feeling of isolation from the rest of the world, but it was more pronounced with Mac. You could see it in his photographs, of what he chose as his subjects: Statues, Manikins, automatons, architecture...not a lot of people (though you're there).
Sigh. Of course Mac had friends, good friends and caring friends. I know I'm attributing personality to Mac that may or may not be there, but those were the impressions I got from "reading" him. I knew that as much as he had hope for a digital, exobiotic future, the here and now ground down upon him daily. You have to have hope for the future when the present sucks so bad. And I believe that as distant as Mac thought he felt from everyone, he had an incredible empathy for the animals, the disenfranchised, and the have nots.
I'm sad because he didn't have the time to live where he wanted, to find a fulfilling daily job or career.But, I'm saddest of all because he didn't have enough time to fill the hole which I am sure bedeviled and plagued him to the end of his days. Me, I like to remember him smiling.
Much to my surprise I'm still keeping up with the weirdness.I've been sidelined all Summer with a foot injury from simultaneously doing extensive yoga and a Fitness Boot Camp in the park with crappy shoes. My foot still hurts after physical therapy and a Cortezone shot, so it may require surgery, though I'm not taking the time to look into the MRI. Which is foolish. I should do that. I guess I will.
Anyway, I ended up putting on a few pounds and feeling out of shape, so I set up my bike trainer in the basement to do some stationary cycling. The problem is, now the guest room is down there instead of the office, so I have to cycle out in the boring unfinished part (with no TV). So rather than be bored staring at the air conditioner I decided to make my own entertainment by strapping on my www.mindfold.com/ installing some ear plugs and doing Sensory Deprivation Cycling.
So far the results are not that much different from when I do this laying on a couch. Part of me is observer, part participant. The hardest thing to do at the moment is to concentrate on looking out through my eyes instead of rolling the up and looking upon my inner eye.
But that doesn't tell you anything does it? Ok...Here are things I've seen: Sometimes I can look out into the void before my eyes and feel the space. The basement walls vanish and it's just void. The the abstract shapes appear. Sometimes they are skull-like (since I've been drawing skulls), or alien grays (last night because of Mac). I get flashes of yellow/green in my peripheral vision. And I know that my mask is sealed tight.
click to enlarge
A few times I was able to lose my identity in the cycling and the vision for a few seconds before I panic about falling off the bike or the bike unmooring from the trainer, but so far it's taken all the speed and energy I can throw at it and dismounted. Hmmm perhaps I should do an inspection run before hand.
Also sometimes my inner monologue changes voice. I've had it in the past become black women, old people, Hispanic...others not mine. When that happens, I wonder if a blow to the head will cause me to speak with a new accent.Foreign accent syndrome. Last night I got a Hispanic accent which sounded a lot like Antonio Banderas. Go figure. Also for the first time I got an olfactory hit of airplane glue after a chain association made me think of the plastic Star Trek Phaser and Tricorder I build as a child.
So I'll continue to do these sense dep cyclings, and broadcast them on-line because...well, why not?
Even if Mac is gone, we still follow the motto of Planetary: It's a strange world, let's keep it that way.
Those who follow me on Twitter already know how broken up I am over Mac's death.What makes me saddest of all is that to my knowledge, he was not a romantic relationship, and as I understand it, had a lot of difficulty finding and maintaining one.And I think was a symptom of his core sadness which surfaced from time to time in his posts and his Tweets. I think we shared a general feeling of isolation from the rest of the world, but it was more pronounced with Mac. You could see it in his photographs, of what he chose as his subjects: Statues, Manikins, automatons, architecture...not a lot of people (though you're there).
Sigh. Of course Mac had friends, good friends and caring friends. I know I'm attributing personality to Mac that may or may not be there, but those were the impressions I got from "reading" him. I knew that as much as he had hope for a digital, exobiotic future, the here and now ground down upon him daily. You have to have hope for the future when the present sucks so bad. And I believe that as distant as Mac thought he felt from everyone, he had an incredible empathy for the animals, the disenfranchised, and the have nots.
I'm sad because he didn't have the time to live where he wanted, to find a fulfilling daily job or career.But, I'm saddest of all because he didn't have enough time to fill the hole which I am sure bedeviled and plagued him to the end of his days. Me, I like to remember him smiling.
Other Things
Much to my surprise I'm still keeping up with the weirdness.I've been sidelined all Summer with a foot injury from simultaneously doing extensive yoga and a Fitness Boot Camp in the park with crappy shoes. My foot still hurts after physical therapy and a Cortezone shot, so it may require surgery, though I'm not taking the time to look into the MRI. Which is foolish. I should do that. I guess I will.
Anyway, I ended up putting on a few pounds and feeling out of shape, so I set up my bike trainer in the basement to do some stationary cycling. The problem is, now the guest room is down there instead of the office, so I have to cycle out in the boring unfinished part (with no TV). So rather than be bored staring at the air conditioner I decided to make my own entertainment by strapping on my www.mindfold.com/ installing some ear plugs and doing Sensory Deprivation Cycling.
So far the results are not that much different from when I do this laying on a couch. Part of me is observer, part participant. The hardest thing to do at the moment is to concentrate on looking out through my eyes instead of rolling the up and looking upon my inner eye.
But that doesn't tell you anything does it? Ok...Here are things I've seen: Sometimes I can look out into the void before my eyes and feel the space. The basement walls vanish and it's just void. The the abstract shapes appear. Sometimes they are skull-like (since I've been drawing skulls), or alien grays (last night because of Mac). I get flashes of yellow/green in my peripheral vision. And I know that my mask is sealed tight.
click to enlarge
A few times I was able to lose my identity in the cycling and the vision for a few seconds before I panic about falling off the bike or the bike unmooring from the trainer, but so far it's taken all the speed and energy I can throw at it and dismounted. Hmmm perhaps I should do an inspection run before hand.
Also sometimes my inner monologue changes voice. I've had it in the past become black women, old people, Hispanic...others not mine. When that happens, I wonder if a blow to the head will cause me to speak with a new accent.Foreign accent syndrome. Last night I got a Hispanic accent which sounded a lot like Antonio Banderas. Go figure. Also for the first time I got an olfactory hit of airplane glue after a chain association made me think of the plastic Star Trek Phaser and Tricorder I build as a child.
So I'll continue to do these sense dep cyclings, and broadcast them on-line because...well, why not?
Even if Mac is gone, we still follow the motto of Planetary: It's a strange world, let's keep it that way.
Labels: Art, Aww Man, drawing, Friends
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Revised: Little Browncoat?
My friends Woensdag and Dr. J are having a baby today.
Prior to birth it was decided if a boy that he would be named Malcolm...last name Reynolds
But she's a girl: Sophie Marie Reynolds-Speer by Cesarian
I'll let Dr. J tell the story:
"After starting pitocin at about 9:00 AM, Woensdag fought the hard battle and was in active labor for over 9 hours, before she decided to get an epidural (to everyone's relief). After that, Woensdag continued for as long as she could, but little Sophie was having a little difficulty recovering from the contractions, and it was decided that a cesarian section was necessary. Fortunately the cesarian went well, and once Sophie was visible it was clear that the procedure was necessary -- the umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around her neck twice, and it was so short that she would have never made it out of the canal via a natural birth. So 3 cheers for medical science! Everyone is doing well -- there are just two very hungry ladies in the room now. "
Stolen outright from Kurt Vonnegut:
Hello, Sophie. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, Sophie, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, Sophie—God damn it, you've got to be kind."
Hmmmm. This means a new tag. "Friends"
Prior to birth it was decided if a boy that he would be named Malcolm...last name Reynolds
But she's a girl: Sophie Marie Reynolds-Speer by Cesarian
I'll let Dr. J tell the story:
"After starting pitocin at about 9:00 AM, Woensdag fought the hard battle and was in active labor for over 9 hours, before she decided to get an epidural (to everyone's relief). After that, Woensdag continued for as long as she could, but little Sophie was having a little difficulty recovering from the contractions, and it was decided that a cesarian section was necessary. Fortunately the cesarian went well, and once Sophie was visible it was clear that the procedure was necessary -- the umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around her neck twice, and it was so short that she would have never made it out of the canal via a natural birth. So 3 cheers for medical science! Everyone is doing well -- there are just two very hungry ladies in the room now. "
Stolen outright from Kurt Vonnegut:
Hello, Sophie. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, Sophie, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, Sophie—God damn it, you've got to be kind."
Hmmmm. This means a new tag. "Friends"
Labels: Friends
