The poster showcases a muscled beast of man with a shaved head and a trophy belt tossed over his shoulder as if it was merely an after thought. The expression, while shadowed, appears remote and angry, yet oddly defeated?
It is flanked by a framed sketch of a whipped latte and a cup of coffee.
The poster seems oddly out of place. Still, in this hang out of mine there are many contradictions.
I, myself, am one in many ways.
The balance between sinner and saint really is non-existent yet I foolishly try to sell this world this odd combination of what, I’m not too sure. I think I’m fooling myself more than anyone else.
And to what purpose?
It is simply a fact of being human I suppose.
I’ve been inflicted with this condition you see…no way around it. Some manage the human condition better than others. Then again it is dependent on so many infinite combinations, is it not?
The consumption of my meal is taking place as I listen idly to the conversations that are filtering through around me.
Germany apparently started both world wars. Ah yes, the quest to dominate, to run the whole show. Unfortunately far too many have sought that narrow minded way of thinking.
What is the imagined prize I cannot help but wonder. Power? Control?
Our waitress prattled on at the table behind me about ‘Fright Nights’. The thrill, the excitement, the fear, the fun!
‘Fright Nights’ is basically our local fair ground reconstructed with Haunted Houses to celebrate the season of Halloween. Oh yes, it has indeed become a season albeit a short one.
Staff members are dressed in grotesque costumes with frightening makeup and chase you about or jump out at you hoping to scare the bejeezus out of you. Often they are very effective.
I’ve gone a few times. One thing they do is turn the lights off on our glorious old wooden Roller Coaster. My friend Kathy and I went on it a few years back. They have a camera mounted to take your picture just as you make your first descend.
I don’t believe I’ve ever laughed so hard at our expressed horror. We bore the same expression with our then blonde manes practically in a vertical position upon our heads. Our eyes were wide, mouths open and the wind factor added a rather animated effect to our expression.
It was the most unflattering photo of the two of us ever and but one of the funniest. .
I enjoyed it immensely but truth be told, I wasn’t willing to cough up twenty dollars for the damn thing.
After work today I met a woman I went to school with for a drink. She lives very close to my new place of employment so I danced across the street to the Deep Cove Brewery to sample their wares.
Impressive! Christmas giving will be full of spirits this year.
Sharon was responsible for putting the cruise we went on earlier this year together. And it was one of the best trips I’ve had. And Sharon is a lovely woman. She is in this life to live it fully and from what I can determine she’s doing a damn fine job of it.
And we make our choices on the direction we want our life to take, don’t we? Some of us do this with a great deal of clarity while many of us do this with blinders on.
Personally I’ve stumbled through this life’s journey and it has been an interesting one
At times we are all asked if we have any regrets.
The guy in the UFC poster I described earlier looks like he may have some, though it may debatable as to what the origin may be.
I love the line in ‘My Way’.
“Regrets, I’ve had few…but then again…too few to mention…”
Perhaps I should have regrets. But at the end of the day, I have to accept that I made the decisions and choices that I did based upon the knowledge, or lack thereof, that was available to me at that time.
Expansion can only occur when you reconcile all the emotions that have bound you and release them.
Letting go of fears that have confined you for a lifetime, beliefs that may well have been misguided and the self-depreciating manner by which we subject ourselves to is not an easy task.
I’ve the muscled man in the UFC poster, a baseball game (the World Series) and a soccer game vying for my attention in a restaurant with about eight pages of food on their menu.
Pizza, pasta and beer.
I won’t be some skinny mini, of this you can be sure. I have no desire to be cut and rock solid.
I just want to enjoy a healthy body once again so that I can enjoy all the activities that I fought so hard to have in my life.
Pizza and beer will not assist me in this endeavour. And while I try to persuade the rest of the world that these two items should indeed be considered superfoods, I can assure you that I am not too convincing. After all it is self motivated on my part and rather delusional at best.
We like what we like, even if our arteries are hardening at the thought of it.
The question of air pollution resulting from the use of automobiles certainly hasn’t deterred our desire to drive or our love affair with our automobiles.
And while I am trying to consciously cut down on the eco footprint that I am making, I know I could do better.
Why don’t I?
The answer to this is simple. I’m human. No, it’s not a cop out. We are conditioned and I am trying to change this on a daily basis, trying to turn those habits that have been ingrained into something far more constructive and benefical.
I want to be a kinder and gentler being. Oh, there are many things I want to aspire to. There is a bombardment of stimuli, good and incredibly bad, that I and everyone else inhabiting this planet is assaulted with each day.
Dear old technology rushes and washes over us like a tsunami. Oddly, we welcome the assault.
The news about the iPhone 6 and its release to the world held my attention simply in the absurdity that people were waiting in lines over night to attain this new object
So why the fascination and the must have? Will it change your life? Make it better than it was a day ago? Not likely.
But again, it all comes back to the human condition.
That moment of supremacy, however fleeting, when you feel you’ve got the edge on this thing we call life.
Stick that phone in the pocket of your jeans and find out the next day that it’s warped.
Back in the 1970’s women were making a real mark on their position in this world. They were challenging the role that they had been cast in on every level. Equality, fairness in the workplace, and a host of other inequities founded the women’s movement.
Then someone whispered in a woman’s ear…you’ll be far more successful if you dress like this and look like that.
We were on coltish legs understand and suddenly those insecurities were turned inward.
Today aging is considered a disease. It can be fixed though. There is a surgical procedure for everything now.
Fat belly? Liposuction.
Sagging lips? Collegen shots.
Boobs? Implants or a reduction.
And to what purpose?
How will this enhance our human experience?
I really don’t think it will. Oh, you might well think that the $10,000 that you spent on correcting the flaws that society insisted made you unacceptable will improve the quality of life…but sadly that can only come with acceptance of who you are.
With every perceived imperfection included in this acceptance.
Last year when chemotherapy induced the departure of my hair, I stood in the shower rather fascinated by the wads that slipped so easily from my head. My daughter shaved the remainder off at my request.
I stood for a time gazing at this bald head of mine.
It was a humbling moment yet equally liberating.
How much stock I put into my daily appearance, wanting to be accepted, wanting to be found desirable, and ultimately wanting to be loved.
Nothing had changed in my personage…just my appearance. I was the same woman I was a day ago, only now I was bald.
And it’s a dramatic change in such a visual society as ours.
But I’m alive. I’ve got another day, another moment, another chance.
These days the news is filled with men dressed in black beheading their fellow man.
Ebola is raging through West Africa and as it turns its insidious direction toward our continent the tendrils of fear are building.
Why are we not sending our knowledge and medicines over to West Africa? Why are we not trying to save these people?
Oh, government officials will stand up for posterity’s sake and say they’ve committed so much to the effort while we watch yet another diseased body being lifted onto a gurney by a people wrapped in plastic.
What the fuck is going on?
Lineups for days for the iPhone 6?
And everything is supersized or minimized. Our manic senses need to be filled. We need to feel normal in this abnormal world. We need to find sense in the non-sensical.
I saw the image on TV.
A figure shrouded in black standing next to a man in orange who was on his knees in all his fragility. A desert backdrop lent so much despair to the situation.
I gazed at the figure in black. What struck me was that this person had never known love; had never truly experienced its power. They wouldn’t be taking off a fellow man’s head had they.
And this saddened me so deeply.
They take these boys at such a young age. Feed them hate, fear and loathing. Promise things that will never be attained.
Now take a step back. I know it’s horrific. I know they need to be held accountable.
But what are we feeding the young minds of this world?
Love, compassion, empathy? Gotta wonder.
Be a size zero, get your masters in anything, have a line of credit to live off because you’ll be paying off your student loan well into your 40’s, then pretend that you’re not polluting the world in that 3,000 sq. ft. home you live in that you can’t afford.
And across the globe young boys are being conditioned to serve a master that detests all you believe to be good and true.
They believe if they walk into a busy marketplace and blow themselves up and take a few of the bad guys with them, they are assured with their death that 76 virgins will greet them.
I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that it’s the same 76 virgins for each and ever fool who tosses the gift of life away for an angry god.
And isn’t that the crux of it all?
We all think we know, believe we’ve been shown the way, the path….
The very fact that the man in black beside the victim to be persecuted is so well covered speaks volumes.
They know it’s wrong. Gazing into that damnable camera they know it’s insidious.
That is why they are hiding, covering themselves.
Again, it is the human condition.
And I hurt for them as much as I do for the soul who is on his knees begging for mercy, for their life as they are remembering the love afforded them. In that moment they want to be enveloped by it, wrapped in it, lost in it.
And the one to take it from them, who stands shrouded in black covets it. Yet he’ll never admit to it.
A week ago I stood in this town of mine and watched and took some shots as we commemorated a photograph that was taken at the beginning of World War II.
A young boy broke from his mother’s grasp reaching for his father who was marching off to war.
I am a photographer, albeit an amateur. But I know why this shot struck a nerve worldwide and still does.
There is an honesty to the anguish, to the fear….
It is the last photo of the family as a unit. A small boy in that moment knew somewhere deep within that his life was about to be forever changed.
And as I continue to see horrific images of people dying horrific deaths, I’ve no answers.
I got up this morning and readied myself for work.
God, it was beautiful out! The moon still flirted in her magnificence, while the clouds that lingered shone pink and a mist hung mysteriously on the river wrapping the trees in a sultry manner.
I stopped to get my morning coffee and man I see frequently was curled up on the sidewalk.
“Could you mange a coffee for me this morning?” he asked.
“ Sure. You good with cream and sugar?”
I got him a muffin as well.
We exchanged pleasantries when I delivered the goods and he thanked me.
As I drove into work, an obscure thought slipped through the grey matter.
“What if this guy were Jesus in the expected second coming?”
How many of us see these people as being invisible? There are so many out there now, too many. I don’t know what brought him to this point, in his life but as stated earlier, we make our choices then we live with the results.
Still, for some, well likely for many, the road is not quite as conquerable as we’d like.
I am a bit odd in that I’ve got the tenacity of a badger and the heart of horse. I look for the good, seek the good yet I’ve known enough crap to appreciate life on a whole different level.
And we only have this day.
I wake each morning grateful. Another shot at doing, another chance to make a difference, another opportunity to influence change?
And I’m no one special; just a woman who has far too many things running through her head at any given time.
I am preparing at 8:39 PM to head home. The ad in the bathroom stall is somewhat confusing.
Collectible plastic toys are being offered. There are 800 in all. And as I do my business I find myself saddened. Sell your condoms, your taxis, your warnings about smoking or drinking too much…but toys?
What does that say about our footprint?
Another poster of the UFC guy is hanging in the bathroom.
Pausing I look at the image. I wash my hands and leave.
Nothing much to say really. They are selling a product. One I don’t adhere to and it makes me feel sad simply because of it’s physicality and intent.
Oh, I can assure you that when I watch hockey this year I won’t turn in horror when the gloves come off.
And again, it comes down to conditioning.
I am feeling chilled. Time to head home and wrap a fleece blanket about my feet.
We only this moment.
Peace be with you always and may love always shine its light.