More from the you got science in my poetry collection --
impossible mystery
eyes can never see
space outside the universe
time before the beginning
magic deeper still
sing the silent song
breathe the endless void
float, fall, fly, sans gravity
grab handfuls of nothingness
that came before existence
kiss the quickening cosmos
as she spins, ripples, stretches
ever expanding 'verses
dancing far beyond
imagination
Friday, October 26, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Something about crisis and opportunity
I promised to offer "tips" for living life chronically ill without losing (too much) of your mind. As previously stated, I do not claim any particular expertise. Just want to share some ideas, habits I've found helpful in my own life. "Tips" seems the shortest, simplest way to label that (and I will now leave off with the basically unnecessary quotation marks as I am beginning to annoy even myself.) So here's one for starters -- take your bad days and find a way to use them to your advantage. This way, even a bad day doesn't seem like a total loss. I hate when a day feels completely wasted. And there is sometimes a hidden upside to what can otherwise be difficult just to get through. For example...
A day when I feel so sick or am in so much pain that I cannot get out of bed is not a good thing. I think most people would agree with this feeling. However, I have learned (through some amount of practice) that these days are a great opportunity to watch a foreign film. If all I'm good for is staring at the TV screen, that means I can easily keep up with subtitles, free of distraction. And there's a lot of great movies that I might never have seen without this extra nudge. Such as "Timecrimes," a perfect little puzzle of a time-travel murder mystery. In fact, after watching this once, I immediately watched it over again to see how the pieces fall together. Truly ingenious.
Or, how about a day when I just can't get out of the house? Perfect chance for all those things I've been going to, you know, get around to. Like cleaning out my closet and finding all the clothes that should really be given away. Or getting my books/CDs/DVDs/sock drawer better organized. (To be fair, I do kinda love reorganizing stuff...) Or maybe it's even a good time to write a blog post, since I was going to do such a good job at keeping up on that. Maybe.
Look, y'all, I'm not saying that every cloud has a silver lining. But trying to find them sure does make life a little better, and at least passes some time.
A day when I feel so sick or am in so much pain that I cannot get out of bed is not a good thing. I think most people would agree with this feeling. However, I have learned (through some amount of practice) that these days are a great opportunity to watch a foreign film. If all I'm good for is staring at the TV screen, that means I can easily keep up with subtitles, free of distraction. And there's a lot of great movies that I might never have seen without this extra nudge. Such as "Timecrimes," a perfect little puzzle of a time-travel murder mystery. In fact, after watching this once, I immediately watched it over again to see how the pieces fall together. Truly ingenious.
Or, how about a day when I just can't get out of the house? Perfect chance for all those things I've been going to, you know, get around to. Like cleaning out my closet and finding all the clothes that should really be given away. Or getting my books/CDs/DVDs/sock drawer better organized. (To be fair, I do kinda love reorganizing stuff...) Or maybe it's even a good time to write a blog post, since I was going to do such a good job at keeping up on that. Maybe.
Look, y'all, I'm not saying that every cloud has a silver lining. But trying to find them sure does make life a little better, and at least passes some time.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Ancient Japanese poetry + too much Science Channel
The Science Channel is a remarkable source of inspiration for poetry. I didn't even set out to write these sorts of poems, it just happened. Have you seen "Through the Wormhole"? I don't know how to process such truly wild, mind blowing knowledge and information. It all winds up just dancing around in my head and I want to put it down somehow, even if I can't possibly understand all of the technicalities. Some of these poems are also partially products of my current sci-fi kick (e.g."Sunshine," "Doctor Who") and whatever genre you want to call "Tree of Life." So here is a first selection of my science series of tanka poems with more to come, I'm sure. To think, hundreds of years ago, artists and samurai used this same form to speak of cherry blossoms...
Created in destruction
Now unbonded particles
Returned to stardust
Free from gravity
Swimming in expansive space
Singularity
Forever balanced
On the event horizon
The inexplicable edge
Of precarious knowledge
Intelligence created
Out of primordial ooze
Such simple-minded beings
I hear God laughing --
Darwin wasn't wrong
Created in destruction
Now unbonded particles
Returned to stardust
Free from gravity
Swimming in expansive space
Singularity
Forever balanced
On the event horizon
The inexplicable edge
Of precarious knowledge
Intelligence created
Out of primordial ooze
Such simple-minded beings
I hear God laughing --
Darwin wasn't wrong
Monday, July 23, 2012
Nora Ephron
"She could peel an apple in one long curly strip..."
When I was a kid, the local library let you check out videos for free. And not just educational movies, but popular theatrical movie-movies too. "Sleepless in Seattle" was one of the first grown-up (non-animated or musical) movies I watched and really liked. I don't know what drew me to this particular film in the first place, but I checked it out of the library over and over again until I had it pretty much memorized. Sure, some of the jokes were a little over my head, but I didn't care. And as time went on, I started to get more of them and the movie just got better. Even this past week, I discovered a new level to one of said memorized jokes --
Now, tiramisu is, in fact, an Italian dessert so... funny. The extra layer that was lost on me until recently is that "tiramisu" literally means "pick me up." That is something a woman may want you to do to her (one way or another.) Ha! Bonus humor finally dawning on you over a decade after first viewing -- I'll credit that to a good writer. Which Nora Ephron certainly was. Thanks for a very worthwhile introduction to movies, Ms. Ephron, for proving repeatedly that romantic comedies don't have to be junk, and that a good script is essential.
When I was a kid, the local library let you check out videos for free. And not just educational movies, but popular theatrical movie-movies too. "Sleepless in Seattle" was one of the first grown-up (non-animated or musical) movies I watched and really liked. I don't know what drew me to this particular film in the first place, but I checked it out of the library over and over again until I had it pretty much memorized. Sure, some of the jokes were a little over my head, but I didn't care. And as time went on, I started to get more of them and the movie just got better. Even this past week, I discovered a new level to one of said memorized jokes --
Sam (on returning to the dating scene): "What is tiramisu? ... Some woman is gonna want me to do it to her and I'm not gonna know what it is!"
Now, tiramisu is, in fact, an Italian dessert so... funny. The extra layer that was lost on me until recently is that "tiramisu" literally means "pick me up." That is something a woman may want you to do to her (one way or another.) Ha! Bonus humor finally dawning on you over a decade after first viewing -- I'll credit that to a good writer. Which Nora Ephron certainly was. Thanks for a very worthwhile introduction to movies, Ms. Ephron, for proving repeatedly that romantic comedies don't have to be junk, and that a good script is essential.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Where to begin (again)
"...To people living with, living with, living with not dying from disease..." ~ RENT
I have learned some things since the last time I posted here. I am amazed at how many other people are also dealing with some sort of chronic health problems in their own lives -- chronic fatigue syndrome and migraines like me, or fibromyalgia, or lupus, or MS, or a thousand other things I'm sure I've never heard of and could never spell. What is really important here is how much it seems that we all have in common. Living with these kinds of problems is not easy, yet it seems whenever I meet somebody either they or someone close to them can very easily connect to my experiences with chronic illness.
(By the way, I'm not a big fan of the word "sick" or "ill" or "disabled" for that matter. Not that they're not true, just wish there was a better option. Any suggestions? Perhaps I have just grown tired of these terms after wearing them for about half my life, but I digress...)
So, the point of all this is that maybe there are things I've learned that can be helpful to others. I profess no special skills or training, just too much time on my hands and a desire to pass along something useful. Maybe even entertaining! Despite the title of my blog, I can promise no comedy (per se), just a positive outlook on life in general. I will also promise a concerted effort to post on a regular basis, to share a mix of "tips" and other things I've discovered through my time in the trenches as well as poems, film commentary, my attempts at cooking, etc. With apologies to my English teachers, I can also feel fairly confident in promising an overuse of these () these -- and these ...
Now, let's call that a mission statement and I would just like to take a moment to mention one other thing, dear reader. Yes, I just called you dear reader and I think I shall continue doing so in future or if I'm feeling exceptionally optimistic, perhaps -- y'all. What I'm saying is that I plan on talking to you and would very much like it if you talked back. There's a comment button. Use it. To anyone who is still reading this blog after 4 years without a post, I say, I'm flattered and a little perplexed, but thanks! If you're out there dear readers, talk back.
I have learned some things since the last time I posted here. I am amazed at how many other people are also dealing with some sort of chronic health problems in their own lives -- chronic fatigue syndrome and migraines like me, or fibromyalgia, or lupus, or MS, or a thousand other things I'm sure I've never heard of and could never spell. What is really important here is how much it seems that we all have in common. Living with these kinds of problems is not easy, yet it seems whenever I meet somebody either they or someone close to them can very easily connect to my experiences with chronic illness.
(By the way, I'm not a big fan of the word "sick" or "ill" or "disabled" for that matter. Not that they're not true, just wish there was a better option. Any suggestions? Perhaps I have just grown tired of these terms after wearing them for about half my life, but I digress...)
So, the point of all this is that maybe there are things I've learned that can be helpful to others. I profess no special skills or training, just too much time on my hands and a desire to pass along something useful. Maybe even entertaining! Despite the title of my blog, I can promise no comedy (per se), just a positive outlook on life in general. I will also promise a concerted effort to post on a regular basis, to share a mix of "tips" and other things I've discovered through my time in the trenches as well as poems, film commentary, my attempts at cooking, etc. With apologies to my English teachers, I can also feel fairly confident in promising an overuse of these () these -- and these ...
Now, let's call that a mission statement and I would just like to take a moment to mention one other thing, dear reader. Yes, I just called you dear reader and I think I shall continue doing so in future or if I'm feeling exceptionally optimistic, perhaps -- y'all. What I'm saying is that I plan on talking to you and would very much like it if you talked back. There's a comment button. Use it. To anyone who is still reading this blog after 4 years without a post, I say, I'm flattered and a little perplexed, but thanks! If you're out there dear readers, talk back.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Calypso feathers
Some of you may remember from an earlier entry that our family has a cockatiel named Squeaker. We also had a lovebird named Calypso. Or perhaps I should say my mother had a lovebird, who was kind enough to share himself with me. He was such a mama's boy! Well, Calypso died in February at the ripe old age of 12. (I understand the 8 - 10 is good for a lovebird.)
You've seen some of Squeaker's antics, so let me tell you a bit about Calypso. First, he was green. His favorite pastimes included baths, chewing things, and heckling Squeaker. He was just a little bird, but apparently no one told him that. He was unafraid of pretty much anything, had a never-ending supply of energy, and a peep that could be heard for miles around. He didn't talk -- the only human sound he imitated was a kissy noise, which was completely endearing. We always said that if he were to pick up something else it would probably be a belch or a swear word. He was just that perverse, yet the ultimate charmer.
We buried Calypso on Easter among the spring flowers, sent off with these two poems I wrote --
Calypso feathers
Cannot contain his ego
Unaware of height
A tiny frame taking flight
Peeps mightily in God's ear
Proclaiming green-ness,
Pointy beaked upside down-ness.
For the love of noise,
Sheer joy of being alive --
I peep because I'm happy!
And I think that's pretty much Calypso in a nutshell. I don't want to get too sentimental, but if I ever needed a lesson in joie de vivre, I need look no further than the tiny green person who would drink water from my fingers and let me scratch his head.
You've seen some of Squeaker's antics, so let me tell you a bit about Calypso. First, he was green. His favorite pastimes included baths, chewing things, and heckling Squeaker. He was just a little bird, but apparently no one told him that. He was unafraid of pretty much anything, had a never-ending supply of energy, and a peep that could be heard for miles around. He didn't talk -- the only human sound he imitated was a kissy noise, which was completely endearing. We always said that if he were to pick up something else it would probably be a belch or a swear word. He was just that perverse, yet the ultimate charmer.
We buried Calypso on Easter among the spring flowers, sent off with these two poems I wrote --
Calypso feathers
Cannot contain his ego
Unaware of height
A tiny frame taking flight
Peeps mightily in God's ear
Proclaiming green-ness,
Pointy beaked upside down-ness.
For the love of noise,
Sheer joy of being alive --
I peep because I'm happy!
And I think that's pretty much Calypso in a nutshell. I don't want to get too sentimental, but if I ever needed a lesson in joie de vivre, I need look no further than the tiny green person who would drink water from my fingers and let me scratch his head.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
My tenth annual Academy Awards
Well, it may be a bit delayed, but here's my Oscar entry --
I can tell you the exact date my love of film began -- December 19, 1997. The night I first saw Titanic. Now, I think it would sound cooler to say my interest in movies had been sparked by something like Pulp Fiction or Casablanca or El Mariachi, but the truth is it was in fact the highest grossing film of all time that caught my attention. Ah, well. So much for my indie cred.
So, here's the story from the beginning -- My best friends and I went to see Titanic on opening night and stumbled out of the theater three and a half hours later arm in arm crying our eyes out. I think we scared the people waiting to go in for the next showing. Over the next few months, everyone went back to see it again and again. I began to feel a bit like Charlie Bucket only opening two Wonka bars, since I only saw it two or three times -- I knew girls who saw it over ten times! (no wonder it made over a billion dollars) But I watched all the behind-the-scenes specials and interviews I could find. These opened up a whole new world to me. I had seen movies before, but I never really thought much about how they were made. This was back in the days before DVDs (gasp!) with special features. Suddenly I was interested not only in Leo and Kate, but also in James Cameron's other projects. And knowing that the hand seen drawing Rose in the movie is in fact Cameron's and other such fascinating tidbits.
My love of Titanic naturally led me to the 1998 Oscars. Billy Crystal hosted and I still remember parts of his opening songs about the Best Picture nominees ("It's Gilligan, the Skipper too, the propeller guy and the ice!"). I learned something important that first year -- you need to have someone to root for. Of course in 1998 it was Titanic all the way for me and I felt personally slighted by any losses. Then the following year, the Academy really sealed the deal and made me a viewer for life by making my pick, the underdog Shakespeare in Love, Best Picture over favorite Saving Private Ryan. I realize I may get hate mail for saying this, but that win made me so happy, I literally got up and jumped up and down during the acceptance speech.
So, in subsequent years I have generally tried my best to cram for the Oscars by watching as many nominated films as possible. This has been somewhat hampered the past three years since I've had to rely on DVDs alone, and unfortunately am not eligible for Academy screeners. So, my big Oscar pick for 2008 was Once, which was only nominated for Best Original Song. It won (yay!) so I consider the show a success, especially since Jon Stewart brought star Marketa Irglova back out on stage to give her part of the acceptance speech after she and Glen Hansard were played off. I also learned, from the helpful montage, that I have seen 29 of the 80 Best Picture winners including every one from Titanic through The Departed. I guess I just need to get caught up on those older films!
I can tell you the exact date my love of film began -- December 19, 1997. The night I first saw Titanic. Now, I think it would sound cooler to say my interest in movies had been sparked by something like Pulp Fiction or Casablanca or El Mariachi, but the truth is it was in fact the highest grossing film of all time that caught my attention. Ah, well. So much for my indie cred.
So, here's the story from the beginning -- My best friends and I went to see Titanic on opening night and stumbled out of the theater three and a half hours later arm in arm crying our eyes out. I think we scared the people waiting to go in for the next showing. Over the next few months, everyone went back to see it again and again. I began to feel a bit like Charlie Bucket only opening two Wonka bars, since I only saw it two or three times -- I knew girls who saw it over ten times! (no wonder it made over a billion dollars) But I watched all the behind-the-scenes specials and interviews I could find. These opened up a whole new world to me. I had seen movies before, but I never really thought much about how they were made. This was back in the days before DVDs (gasp!) with special features. Suddenly I was interested not only in Leo and Kate, but also in James Cameron's other projects. And knowing that the hand seen drawing Rose in the movie is in fact Cameron's and other such fascinating tidbits.
My love of Titanic naturally led me to the 1998 Oscars. Billy Crystal hosted and I still remember parts of his opening songs about the Best Picture nominees ("It's Gilligan, the Skipper too, the propeller guy and the ice!"). I learned something important that first year -- you need to have someone to root for. Of course in 1998 it was Titanic all the way for me and I felt personally slighted by any losses. Then the following year, the Academy really sealed the deal and made me a viewer for life by making my pick, the underdog Shakespeare in Love, Best Picture over favorite Saving Private Ryan. I realize I may get hate mail for saying this, but that win made me so happy, I literally got up and jumped up and down during the acceptance speech.
So, in subsequent years I have generally tried my best to cram for the Oscars by watching as many nominated films as possible. This has been somewhat hampered the past three years since I've had to rely on DVDs alone, and unfortunately am not eligible for Academy screeners. So, my big Oscar pick for 2008 was Once, which was only nominated for Best Original Song. It won (yay!) so I consider the show a success, especially since Jon Stewart brought star Marketa Irglova back out on stage to give her part of the acceptance speech after she and Glen Hansard were played off. I also learned, from the helpful montage, that I have seen 29 of the 80 Best Picture winners including every one from Titanic through The Departed. I guess I just need to get caught up on those older films!
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