I like to think of myself as a creative individual, but I have to admit that quite a few behaviors and activities that I engage in are more ritualistic than would be imagined. With the warming of the weather, I begin opening the windows as much for the sunlight as for the fresh air. During the short spring break from classes this semester I have awoken early to put my house in order if you will. Not normally an early riser, for those of you who know me, early is anytime before noon or possibly 2 pm depending on when I went to bed the night before. On this rare occasion I awoke naturally at 6 am and immediately began stripping the bed and curtains for the master bedroom and bath. Something within me loves to have a hard day of work rewarded by crisp clean cool sheets. As is usual in these intermediary months between winter and spring equinox the amount of static is palpable. Something I revel in each and every time my husband winces as I shock him. Much like the delight I get when I reduce him to a gaggle of giggles while tickling him.. Delight in the mild pain of someone else - yes please! But I digress, the static cling also does a number on my hair, after removing the many layers of my winter hibernation habitat, I look akin to a mad scientist all before 9 am. With the bedding out of the way I take this time to vacuum underneath the bed, by removing the mattress and bedsprings. I happen to notice that the baseboards are starting to slightly separate so in my energetic pep I take courage, knowledge, and the pep talk provided by Robin Williams and "Carpe Diem" caulk in hand. The caulk gun is the easy part, I cart a bucket of sudsy water in order to clean the baseboards in preparation, but if you clean one you have to clean them all, door frames too, but I limit myself to these eight walls for the time being. In this skeletal state I also notice the jimmy rig that my husband has been using since he broke the sideboard of the bed. (Yes and yes, funny story really.) No time like the present, so I get my googles, hacksaw and nailgun, and approximately 45 minutes later Viola. I am the Husband!
The faucet in th bathroom has developed a minor drip in the last week or so, so armed with a massive supply of o-rings, the most probable cause of the leak according to my research. Easy to do yourself according to my research. Three wrenches, an allen wrench and a dismantled stem = equals one massive amount of water pooling above and below the sink. I turn off the water flow to the sink and like any rational person would do at this point I call for assistance and make an appointment for a plumber to arrive Friday at 2pm.
Doorbell ring this is how I answer.

This is who arrives:

Thirty minutes and eighty-nine dollars later, I felt like a happy man, a smorgasborg of services were offered but rather than a complete rebuild at $389.00, a new faucet + installation $500.00, I think I made the right decision. It was the o-ring, some dufus put it back together backwards...
However the previous weeks worth of moisture has loosened the adhesive backing from the laminate of the cabinet. Thanks to my devotion to This Old House, I knew that vinyl laminate flooring will sit flush with prefabricated cabinets so off to Home Depot I went; I also had a running list of items from my honeydew list that I needed as well, granted a shower and hair gel, and another change of laundry loads were required first. At 4:08 traffic to Pineville is within a five minute route, on hour later traffic jams have magically quadrupled the return trip. I am finishing the last cuts of the last tile as Le Husband enters at 8:30 pm. Excited to show my handiwork of the day. Remember the bucket of mop water from the baseboards - me neither! I trip over it sending a cascading waterfall of water down the stairs to greet my better half. Well played Karma, well played.

Art is...

Creating a singular definition of Art is as complicated as describing salt to someone who has never tasted it. Art is multifaceted; traditionally art has operated within the realm of religious ritual. Art is also a powerful means of storytelling. Art may also serve as a commemoration of an important event. The event may be of major historical importance, or it may be more personal such as the depiction of a wedding, birth, baptism, or social achievement. Art may also be a means of recording of visual data-- depicting what we see in a particular moment of time. The expressive power of art can be seen in literal ways in the capturing of facial expression and body language. Art can convey intense emotion. Art has often served as a vehicle for propaganda or social commentary, which attempts to persuade one toward a particular viewpoints or action promoted by public or private institutions such as political parties, governments, or religious groups. The artist as social commentator may simply make us more aware of the human condition.
Art can also be seen as pleasing the eye- creating beauty. Yet this idea of beauty, like that of truth, has been challenged in the modern era. At one time, the artist was expected to portray perfection-- lofty and noble ideals of beauty. Yet as society has become more diverse, educated, and industrialized many people began to broaden their notion of what could be beautiful.

In any case, one of the primary functions of art is to interpret the subject matter at hand. Although new subject matter has evolved, the human condition, nature, and events still continue to capture the attention of artists. The media used have changed relatively little; though new materials have appeared in this century, the conventional media continue to be used. Nor can we say that the quality or artistic merit of art works has increased or lessened with time. However, throughout the course of history as society has changed, so also has the interpretation of specific subject matter. A portrait executed by Matisse in 1907 should not be confused with one done by van Dyck in the 1630s. Even landscape is reinterpreted in the context of a changing world. Each work is an expression of the subject in the context of the values, culture, and events of its specific era.

Created in his image...

The spring semester has proven to be much more difficult that I ever imagined dear readers. I anticipated University life to be much more difficult, but the time constraint was not something I was prepared for. I did find a new creative outlet in Ceramics, and my drawing skills are markedly improved, as noted by these tow examples from figure drawing. Le husband is also thrilled that the creative energy that I normally funnel into home re decorating is being diverted. As one of few adult students I have garnered a bit of a reputation for being mean. The fact that I realize how important the passing of time is makes a small division between me and my classmates - most notably during critiques.

Sadly the fact that I am brutally honest does not encourage the same behaviour in others - just fear. I must admit that while others would feel disparaged after being called a douchebag. I relish the title, of course I have had the epithets of faggot and queer hurled at me so many times I think this is a step in the right direction.

Being my brothers keeper.

I am amazed by the duplicity that dominates religious rhetoric.   Someone explain to me how welfare organizations that are Federally funded differ from those of religious origin in respect to morality.  My only quick notice is that of an elitist perspective.  While I admit that my knowledge is heavily slanted by the religious upbringing I experienced in Utah, where poverty was battled with subsidized lunches, but also by a religious ministration reliant on fast offerings and donations, contingent upon affiliation of course.  (On a long term basis, mind you, this is not a post directed towards large one time donations due to natural disasters, or other singular calamities.)  While I understand that the reputation of Government is not of virtue and prudence per se, there is no disclaimer that states that only a church or religious entity can be interested in the welfare of its patrons.  I also know many individuals enter political office in an attempt to make the world a better place.  Why is it that we will "feed the children" without batting an eyelash, but at some undetermined interval inflict judgment as a precursor of hunger or thirst?  If your going to eat the bread, you have to drink the punch?

Which isn't to state that the beauraucratic idiosyncracies of our government don't have thier own restrictions.  While there are many hot button issues, healthcare, welfare, and abortion are certainly an unholy trinity in some circles.  At the root of each of these issues however is that glimmer to make the world a better place.  As eternal as the wellspring of hope, there is need.  When something is created there is automatically a division of the populace: those with, and those without.  Society has been divided many times over along visible and invisible fault lines.  Male, female, young, old, Democrat, Republican.  Imagine the strain felt by an Transgendered 24 year old college coed Independant.  I must interject that I find argument based in extremes to be unhelpful except in the dire extremes that they mirror, in the event that there are only 12 people left to repopulate the planet, I'll have long since resigned myself to fate.  I don't believe in prolonging the inevitable.  Which isn't to say that for those 12 individuals food wouldn't be an all consuming issue (no pun intended).  But for a modern 24 year old college coed some of those issues could be just as dire. 

I have to state that as a principle I do not believe in charity as an organization.  I will also state for the record that I am an extremely selfish and metrialistic person, and as noted on my Facebook profile, Jesus thinks I am a selfish bitch.  As an individual act Charity becomes an entirely different manner as 1 Corinthians 13:13 exhorts us that "the greatest of these is charity."  (I will offer to buy a sandwich or food for the homeless.)(I will also admit that my first reaction to that those who distinctly desire only money are of an ill caste-whether my assumptions are correct isn't really the point.)  I also do not believe that people value things that they recieve for free.   I want to muddy the waters here and introduce public education, the national endowments for the Arts, Parks and recreation, and the department of transportation.  All of which are funded with tax dollars.  Should I be angry that as a homosexual I pay for the education of your children?  I also believe it counterproductive to demarcate every aspect of ones life.  Which is not neccessarily the advice admonished in Mark 12:17, or perhaps it is if you believe that we are the creations of an all powerful, omnipotent, omnipowerful, presence. (heretofore which shall be abbreviated as POOP).  So in an effort to render that which is Ceasar's and that which is God's: if I were to ask to remove in God we trust from our monetary denominations would there be a furor?  Therefore I must infer that the individual intent of our actions is the mark of our virtue; regardless of whether one is a Democrat or Republican, Baptist or Mormon.

In conclusion of the metaphorical implication of the title, and my limited understanding that the jealousy of Cain was aroused by the acceptance of Able's willing sacrifice when compared to the begrudged offerings.  As exemplified by this passage from Matthew Henry's Concise Commentary on the Bible regarding Genesis 4:8-15

Malice in the heart ends in murder by the hands. Cain slew Abel, his own brother, his own mother's son, whom he ought to have loved; his younger brother, whom he ought to have protected; a good brother, who had never done him any wrong...Observe the pride, unbelief, and impenitence of Cain. He denies the crime, as if he could conceal it from God. He tries to cover a deliberate murder with a deliberate lie...Cain was cursed from the earth. He found his punishment there where he chose his portion, and set his heart. Every creature is to us what God makes it, a comfort or a cross, a blessing or a curse. The wickedness of the wicked brings a curse upon all they do, and all they have. Cain complains not of his sin, but of his punishment. It shows great hardness of heart to be more concerned about our sufferings than our sins. God has wise and holy ends in prolonging the lives even of very wicked men."

While I wouldn't go as far as murder, to kill is defined as depriving of life in any manner. I would say that by our omission death is the rational end for individuals who do not have access to modern healthcare.  Just as the intent of the homeless, or the intent of Cain -- the arena of judgement is not mine, so I will not judge the means that have left many of my fellow Americans without health coverage.  Which as a footnote I'll mention that God is no respecter of persons so my arbitrary distinction between immigrant or illegal alien will probably hold little water in heaven.

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This mural is from the Terror ride of Lagoon, the sole amusement park in Utah. It was my first "haunted" house, and I think I kept my eyes closed the entire time, after witnessing a ghostly white shroud (attached to a hanger-I had already seen mommy dearest at this point so wire hangers were terrifying) that moved at the same speed as the buggy, an ever so stylish cart that made me feel as if I was one of the scooby gang, a five year old earns bravery point for entering right? As the park is only open during the summer, I had mustered enough bravado to re-enter the next summer, and I added one more lifelong fear to my repetoire -- loud car horns and headlights. However this reverence was shortlived; by my seventh year I was already noticing how the objects moved in identical patterns and what components made their motions. So the supernatural weren't so super afterall, just a naturally recurring phenomenon, like a turntable and a pulley. I could tell you the track from memory at this point and I haven't been there since an eventful trip in 1999. (I locked the keys in the ignition with the car running after getting pulled over on the freeway and frisked by the highway patrol) The other macabre offering from Lagoon is Dracula's Castle with elements borrowed heavily from Edward Gorey, Aleister Crowley, mythological, Babylonian, and occultist symbols mixed into a blender and regurgitated as only a conservative religious homogeny could.

Countdown to terror...

In honor of the pending holiday, I am going to do something frightening - reveal a skeleton from my closet each day. (Until I run out of answers to the terrifying, like incidious facebook surveys, start a chain letter...or I get side tracked by something shiny) I'll attempt to battle the demons in my psyche as well as the green eyed monster. And answer the pressing questions that everyone is dying to know such as: Who are my hero's? What type of underwear do I prefer? What color is my bedspread? What is my latent superpower?

I feel I should also throw out a disclaimer that these posts are not for children, I may incorporate words like bite, suck, and titilation, as well as other four letter relatives. Consider yourselves warned.

I'm not sure whether I should credit Bram Stoker or Bela Lugosi as my first idol, but I'd stake a good wager that the combination of victorian sexual repression and villainy encompassed by the myth of Count Dracula is eternally indebted to both. One of my earliest memories is discussing childhood heroes with my brothers, perhaps it was in response to an episode of superfriends, or the yearly mele of costume selection as Superman, Spiderman, and the Silver Surfer were named. I was in a quandry between choosing Darth Vader or Dracula, in my elementary education the fact that they both started with a 'D' was nuetral. Shapeshifting was a definite plus the thought of eternal life even at the expense of drinking blood which I equated with V-8 juice was something I could sink my teeth into. I was one of the few, the select, who begged and pleaded for the I Vant to Bite your finger boardgame, which I received for my 7th birthday. It was also the eponymous name of my first electronic game which I spent many many hours indoors playing so as not to you know go outside in daylight.

Dear ________

I read your letter again today, the one you sent a lifetime ago. I want to thank you for the words of advice, warning, and comfort that you have provided over the years as I re read your words. I want you to know that when I see the address on your envelope I am taken to remote places in my mind and on the Navajo reservation -- a tiny trailer in Tuba, NM, the canyons of Chinle, AZ. I remember the promise I made to keep in touch and to write. You are not forgotten, nor are the hours we spent playing board games at the Holidays. Treva, I still enjoy the sand paintings you meticulously crafted, and Rodney your sandstone carvings. Kimberly Rae I am still humbled by your unquestioning faith and innocence. To my sisters in Dulce, I am sorry that I have let our friendship dwindle, you are perhaps my most fond memory, I will never forget any of you...

Everybody's got their something...

I make no mystery of the fact that if it is shiny and reflective I more than likely want to own it - even if it similar but not identical to something I already possess. I could also make the same statement regarding designer status, rarity, and blue stripe shirts. To have and to hold (read fondle) forever always. But I confess that my true desire is in the seeking of the object not the moment of ownership. Perhaps the sense of comfort that familiarity breeds leads to contempt; the realization when you open your closet and see that every shirt is the same shade and you have nothing to wear. When you look in the mirror and see last nights meal of McDonald's cheeseburger and fries reconstituted and repositioned on your thighs. The realization that you are just like your mother - and your father. I realize that being human has its conditions -- we're not perfect. So we create beings that are supernatural, all knowing, omnipotent, omnipresent and short on two way communication.
I realize the freedom granted to the psyche when absolved of guilt. I understand the desire to seek virtue, with the exception of patience (seriously.) But I can't fathom the ineptitude required for submission. I'm sure that creatures such as vampires, fairies, and ghosts are located on the same spectrum as visions, angels, and God. Just as I'm sure that the Christian God, Almighty Allah, and Queen Mab are different versions of the shirts in my closet.Dear readers I'm sure the analogy of something as urbane as shirts in a closet to the myriad pantheon of gods which mortals place their faith is disturbing to some of you, and I do not seek your discomfort but the clarity of thought to step beyond your gut reflex. I'm asking you to act not react. I recently read an anecdote involving a young child in a religious setting who simply stated his opinion. "That Jesus is a fake." Much to the mortification of his parent(s) who may or may not rely on the adage out of the mouth of babes. I may be wrong in my summation; as children are saved in Christ within this particular belief structure, I would hope that the salvation of the child's soul was not a concern (see statement above regarding intelligence). So I am led to believe that the chagrin was based in the embarrassment felt by the parent(s) in a minefield of social judgment - because the child didn't mimic the predetermined homogeneous behaviour. If the child were mine I'd say (and believe)he was brilliant.
The media outlets are awash in the doomsday foretelling of Wallstreet, terrorism, and war. My prescription to change the planet: stop the indoctrination of children. Religion should be a choice of a rational mind. But its just an opinion.

Thanks to Ryan Williamson for the permission to post these photos.

Maybe it starts in the terrible twos--

the why, why, why of it all. Self-awareness is the basis of what makes us mortal, fallible, and real. Each of us wants to be exceptional, but what defines us as a species is our compulsion to delude ourselves into believing that each of us is unique, different and, in some sense, immortal – while the human race inexorably arranges its own extinction. That desire to better oneself, to attain perfection, or even measure oneself against a whole. I'll admit that the human mind fascinate me. We have an amazing ability to remember, label, and classify object, experiences and even thoughts. Beauty is an ideal for some, myself included. I am mesmerized by the play of light across a body of water. Fountains offer countless hours of distraction as do flames lapping at a hearth in winter. Serene in the stillness, a respite from a hectic world or a return to nature and the simple knowledge that the elements consume constantly. Seasons come and go; first stark and barren fields are worked and toiled, graced by water, sun, and seed. But risk and dangers are continual; an early (or late) frost, insect infestation, or drought can wreak havoc. In that vein artists across the generations have attempted to capture images of bountiful harvest and irrepressible fertility, to counter barren winter months and dispel dark winter thoughts. These attempts may be the nearest to immortality we may come. I adhere to the adage that we came into the world with nothing and we leave with nothing. While life should not be a solitary thing; self expression--the ability to share our viewpoint, thoughts, feelings, and reactions--stands at the core of art. Artists have a variety of visual outlets; painting, sculpture, drawing, and photography. Others paint with words through poetry. It is in these acts of creation that we are nearest the concept of a god, acting as he has acted arranging matter for the edification and good of man. Some escape to completely fantastical worlds, and while I appreciate the work of Salvador Dali, I don't respond to it as I do the Dutch masters, or the geniuses of the Renaissance. Whose artistic representations are merely imitations of known objects. I agree with Leo Tolstoy; art is not meant for purely individual expression but should be employed to lay open what is universal in man. Art also provides a history of the intellect of mankind - allowing glimpses into our collective development as a species, and of our shortcomings from age to age. Life is filled with choices. The struggle to achieve what is right through our choices has two aspects: the rights of the individual or human rights in general stand on one side, while the abstract concept of righteousness lies on the other, transcending individual or collective interests, occupying a pinnacle of rectitude indifferent to consequence or collective utility. Which are we to choose as we calibrate our moral compass? A belief can turn into something larger, a truth – something which is unquestioned and unalterable and which affects every man, woman, and child. What makes something right or wrong for that matter? Is it a government decree, a theological pronouncement, a prevailing opinion, either in the majority or the minority? Which of these do we serve and which do we ignore? Each person born on this earth is allowed the capacity to explore, to learn, and to experience. And with each birth, growth and development, a slightly different moral universe is created, as cognition is shaped by varied attitudes and emotions, virtues and vices. But the basis of my life is this: I will try to learn and grow each day by experiencing new and exciting things along with routine necessities that my body must have. I must sleep, I must eat, and I must drink. These are staples of my existence. But I can elevate these experiences by actively seeking to open myself to a variety of influences. Remaining objective is more complicated than it appears. The effort is aided by opening the consciousness to a wide array of influences and allowing no opinion to grow so exalted as to become impervious to objective reality and reason. Having an opinion is necessary in so many aspects of life; in fact, society almost requires it of us (as witness the incessant polling of the last election cycle and the inadmissibility of “undecided” as a response). While opinion is an inalienable right, one should try to build an educated position that resonates with reason and experience, rather than recite a derivative mantra which satisfies only the need to identify with some larger collective or to be accepted and loved on the basis of conformity. Worse still is ignorance. Society allows us great privileges. Many people sacrificed blood, sweat and tears, or life itself for freedom of thought and expression. It is quite easy to squander that birthright in exchange for the pottage of social approval. Any achievement requires some type of sacrifice, whether it is paid in labor, in loss or in alienation. Nothing worthwhile is ever achieved without a venture of social capital.
The metaphor of life as a footrace is fitting, since it implies a definite beginning and end with some fixed distance stretching between. But it breaks down when we consider the competitive aspect. One’s race is not against another; it is only measured against the self. We grow each day as new experiences present themselves to us in choice and action. Knowledge, much like freedom, can be damning; we have the rope in hand and can either hang ourselves with it or build a bridge to a better future. I have been taught right from wrong, and have made decisions to the best of my ability. Wisdom is the facility to apply the understanding that one has reaped from the field of experience for the betterment of self and society. The power and freedom of agency is, in short, an amazing gift. But the consequences measured in the long term could bring either a blessing or a curse quite beyond our control; they are not subject to our choice. I believe that similar to Newton’s laws of action and reaction, once an action is set into motion it must complete its course along pathways ordained by the power of current circumstance. Each chain of events has its own internal logic and, combined with many other individual choices, it balloons into a larger dynamic of action and consequence that the individual can scarcely anticipate; if he cannot anticipate it, it follows that he cannot hold himself accountable for it. The question of good or evil in this scenario becomes a moot point. The individual can only affect good or evil through his actions in so far as he can anticipate their ends. Intention alone is the essence of morality or immorality, just as Kant held. There are few simple truths in life: only that never and always statements are false. And that taxes and death are inevitable.

In search of Wisdom...

What I appreciate in Plato’s writings is that he insists that we escape the shackles of our individual assumptions and the perils of received wisdom and groupthink. The restless spirit of inquiry arising from the Greek humanists is the bedrock of western thought and the source of all scientific progress. Philosophy flourishes in an arena where insistent questioning places us in the uncomfortable position where no true and absolute answer exists. There is a distinction to be made between natural philosophy and religion, however, which the text omits to point out. While philosophy and theology both presume to answer the essential questions of human existence, philosophy promotes no fallacy of absolute truth. It does not claim to have the answer from some divine and inviolable source. In fact, the interposition of the supernatural diktat forestalls all contradiction or conversation and thereby, shuts down philosophical inquiry or at least, limits it to certain impassible frontiers. Another factor that can lead to confusion is that many terms are used in both philosophical and religious discourse, and yet refer to quite distinct, or merely analogous, concepts—as in “virtue,” “goodness,” “right” and their counterparts. Religious systems of thought (at least, those into which we are born) tend to reinforce our native assumptions and reassure us about the adequacy of a received world-view. But Plato teaches that philosophy inherently disquiets the mind—creates dissonance, outrage, disjunction—before its benefits can be enjoyed. We want to be the individual who acquires knowledge, but our actions, when actually confronted with a revolutionary worldview, prove what type of individual we are. Do we fight against knowledge that is new (gene modification, cloning)? Imagine for a moment that we lived in the time of Jesus, those of us who are Christian. How would we have reacted to his revolutionary teachings? While it inflates the ego to think that I would not stone him, the Gospels tell us that people voted to release a common thief in his stead. When the civil rights movement was reaching a fever pitch, Martin Luther King was killed. Recently, in Pakistan, Benazir Bhutto was assassinated for her beliefs. Human nature is wildly protective and irrational when cornered. When we cast a vote in November, will we base or decision based upon something shallow like the color of a candidate’s skin? Nearly as deeply rooted are ones political beliefs. I’ve often heard people make comments such as “If Hillary wins, I’ll leave the country.” But what do these candidates stand for? Where do you find their positions? What are your sources; are they reliable? When you watch the nightly news, is it to confirm your opinions or to seek objective information?

Grrrr.

It must be a deep rooted attachment from my missionary days but I love getting the mail. Except today -- I got a solitary catalogue. While it would be good for a joke as I'm whole-heartedly gay. I'm more offended by the wasted ink and paper. And the thought that someone somewhere I shop sold my information! The nerve.

Quite the conundrum...

So I have a few options on the table and those of you who know me know that choices aren't really my forte. I often let life sort itself out. The problem with this in the past is that I usually gripe about the outcome. How does one know what one wants till one has it? I'll also remind my dearest readers that patience is not a virtue I possess. I've been preparing the house for a move so that I could be closer to le boyfriend, and return to school full time. This is very important I hate being away from him-although we do spend weekends together and it has given him some bonding time with his father, who is ageing. I think that in the future Larry will not regret the opportunity to be with his Dad. My career has a promising lead that requires me to stay in Charlotte. I'll be able to continue my education in the evenings come fall. I have to admit that I follow Suze Orman's lessons regarding money. People First, then money, then things. And by that equation moving is most important, and the "correct" thing to do.

Step One...

In preparation for the move I've begun a few minor remodeling projects--new flooring for the bathrooms and granite countertops. It has taken me months to settle on Absolute black pictured here. My sypathies to the designers at Home Depot for their patience as well as their poise. I cancelled my order after finding the exact same stone (by Bellini) for half the price. Due to the cost difference they could not honor the 10% competitor price promise. But with savings of $2500.00 that's not a complaint.

I've also begun selling off unneccessary items, the unused weight set for example. I've also begun sorting out the closets and bookshelves. While this is not my first move, there is a distinction to be made for those moving from an apartment. You tend to fill space with items and I have done more than my fair share. My partner has three rooms in the house I have the other eight.

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Early civilizations must have watched with wonder the change of seasons, erratic weather patterns, and churning skies filled with constellations. Just as enigmatic, the seas encompassed the horizon and threatened to engulf terra firma. Modern emphasis on logic, empiricism and practical applications are rooted in the same quest for orderliness and rational understanding that impels less quantifiable fields of study like psychology, history, philosophy, or sociology. The scrutiny of the our ancestors increased our collective understanding of physical, natural, and mathematical sciences. From our neoteric perch it is difficult to recapture the mentality of an earlier era, in which man seemed at the mercy of his surroundings. Meteorology gives man an opportunity to anticipate and prepare for approaching weather systems, just as seismology and vulcanology ameliorate fear of the terrifying Titans of the nether world. With the aid of innovative technological advances man cannot control the forces of nature, but he can, at least, in part, anticipate and build bulwarks against them. This response to a very basic human impulse — the will to know the environment and control its destructive by-products; the will to understand and control inner space is just as compelling. After all, rage, prejudice, murder, greed, and war are not just plot motivations within The Iliad: the lust for power has been as disruptive to human progress as any shift in the earth’s crust. The mystery and finality of death fascinated and confounded then, just as it does now, more emphatically though, because death was always at hand. The search for immortality was all the more urgent and compelling. To the ancients, religion took the place of science. It is no surprise that generation after generation, rooted within the human psyche, the beguiling promise of everlasting life itself lives on.
The Greeks were the first to the see human mind and will as more determinative of the good society than other factors, including piety. Myths eventually became more palatable tales with psychological, social or philosophical implications. Socrates, Aristotle and Plato used myths to illustrate points about human nature and society, not as religious texts. One gets the feeling the philosophers are distinctly agnostic. This movement away from religious zealotry liberates human achievement. The invention of social sciences and philosophy offered some hope of understanding and altering the nature of man and society, steering humanity toward a utopian ideal quite out of keeping with natural instincts. According to Erich Fromm, an American social psychologist, “Humans have a need for a stable frame of reference.” Religion apparently fills this need. Humans crave answers to questions that no other source of knowledge can supply; only religion seems to hold this promise, for in spite of scientific advances, death remains an incorrigible enemy. It opens a gaping void which only imagination and faith can transcend. Fromm continues, “a sense of free will must be given in order for religion to appear healthy.” (Psychoanalysis and Religion, New Haven, Yale University, 1950) Currently we take refuge in some vague idea of ultimate goodness and purpose by espousing religious beliefs. This delusion by choice, provides meaning and makes sense of the world, as well as reduces the sting of death. We think we are the masters of our fate and become upset and self-destructive when we discover otherwise. Doesn’t that come from expectations rooted in humanism?
Judged by these beliefs the Iliad’s premise that Achilles has multiple fates is unreasonable to me. There is only one fate as a consequence of mortality and that is death. While fate and destiny are used interchangeably in our English lexicon, and thus appear synonymous in this translation of the Iliad, they are two distinct concepts. Fate implies an absence of choice in the circumstances or conditions of one’s life and is linked to death. Fate is an outcome determined by an outside agency acting upon a person or entity. . To rail against fate is an excersize in futility, a thought echoed in “Blasphemous Rumours” by Depeche Mode. Even the gods were constrained by fate. The goddess of the dawn, Eos, tried to give her mortal lover eternal life, but forgot to ask for eternal youth. Tithonos ended by turning into a wizened grasshopper, which suggests that immortality is not the natural state of mankind and must be accepted. Even gods can’t change this. Destiny, on the other hand, relates to specific actions or events that one must complete while alive. The destined individual is the chief actor in a scenario targeted to a particular end. This scenario is something unique and specific to himself. Furthermore, he is central to the drama. He must act willfully to achieve his destiny. In our modern culture, fate often makes its force felt in random senseless events, such as the assassination of John F. Kennedy or terrorist attacks like those of 9/11. The creation of heroes and monsters is perpetual.
On a smaller scale glitches in the mental apparatus that would lead a young girl to attempt suicide, militate against the idea of the divine. (After all, the girl in the song conforms to “God’s plan” for her life, and is still killed in an accident.) There is no rhyme or sense. As if to intimate that God is dead and people aren’t smart enough to realize it. Fatalism to the extreme, furthermore, the song implies that modern life is bereft of meaning. People despair because they don’t see that they are having any impact or could have any as individuals. This is because there is no room for the heroic. Education focuses on making people good cogs in the machine. Only organizations have influence and serve interests that are detached from daily life. These are quite opposite of humanist perspective. Individuals who want to succeed and attain power have to pander to the lowest common denominator. They must not step outside the lines of acceptability, so by definition they cannot be heroic. Even art is driven by economics these days. No one is willing to starve for his ideals. Money and possessions have corrupted all.
A similar tension existed in the lives of the ancient Greeks. They kept fighting the gods, and fighting the Fates, continually losing, but they didn’t surrender. They believed defiance was worthwhile. They didn’t give in to meaninglessness. They wanted to leave a legacy behind: immortality as individual glory. Death is ultimately coming and to the ancient Greeks the great beyond was an insipid, wispy afterlife in the underworld, only the frailest shadow of mortal life. So it is best that man should take advantage of the passions of life above ground while they are available. Enjoy them and use them to make a name for ones self that will live on. Even if punishment comes, by all means leave a legacy to mankind. The story of Prometheus illustrates this. He stole fire for mankind, became mankind’s benefactors and yet ended by being chained to a mountain and having his liver gouged out daily and eaten in front of his eyes by Zeus’ eagle. But wasn’t it worth it? He gave infinite comfort to mankind and lives forever in human legend. He was later set free by Hercules’ intervention—Hercules, the ultimate blasphemer who defied several gods and became a demi-god himself.
Today, humanity is facing the temptation to give into powerlessness. And yet, we hold to the Greek notion that we can improve life by our individual actions. All scientific discoveries, all courageous political acts, all revolutions in ethical and theological understanding, all artistic movements are built on confidence that individual actions matter and that man makes his own fate. Human progress is built on this notion. Today, as a complex, materially based culture, man has to give up something to make a stand and change course. We may have to give up some of our material comfort to preserve a livable natural environment. We may have to commit political martyrdom to change public policy for the benefit of the whole society. Those who have more may have to give up a bit of what they have so that the have-nots can attain a decent standard of living. One may have to live on the fringes of society in order to project the message it needs to hear. Defiance of fate often equates to defiance of social convention—it means crossing the line of the taboo with a purpose in mind (not just to shock or titillate) and bringing something meaningful back to one’s fellows at considerable cost. Socrates paid such a price--he was forced to drink hemlock; because he was perceived as corrupting Athens’ youth and being impious toward the gods. Having become so self-involved, we’ve lost a sense of society as a whole or the role the hero serves to re-form and reinvigorate it by transgressing convention. For American’s, patriotism equates to lock-step conformity, when it actually has more to do with courage and being faithful to conscience and vision. How, for instance, does the girl in the song respond to her brush with death? She becomes a religious conformist. What does she add to the condition of the world because of that? Potentially, a great deal, if only she could take that faith and do something practical to shake up the status quo based on ethical principles; but this is not typically how it runs and it is not what the lyrics imply. For too many people, religion is a vehicle that reinforces conformity and curses iconoclasm. It is merely a candied kind of fatalism, not so far removed from despair, postponing reformation to the afterlife, or turns the individual totally within himself or within his community. That is certainly not how it began. Jesus threatened the powers that stood by envisioning a Kingdom (beginning today, in this place) so different from the status quo. If he had been a harmless, otherworldly sort, they would not have executed him.
I question whether Greek heroism as depicted in the Iliad leads to social change. Surely, many of the warriors seem to see the pointlessness of the war, but are powerless to stop it. They try to live up to conventions of manliness and martial prowess, knowing that death may well await them. The greatest of them, Achilles, loses his dearest friend to the war and responds by committing a senseless act of physical desecration to Hector’s body—certainly an unconventional thing to do, but a self-absorbed one. The mercy he shows Priam in the end is probably more heroic than anything else he accomplishes. Perhaps the Iliad is fatalistic, but it does counsel readers to make the best of the situation in which we are enmeshed. If you are going to go down, go down with a bang that will resound through the ages. But I would say that the aspiration to defy the gods and the fates, in spite of the inevitable consequences, is an impulse that led to the great achievements of Greek civilization following Homer and inspired the very ethos of unlimited progress that is an essential component of Western thought. It is the very definition of the humanist impulse. The temptation to quietly acquiesce to one’s fate, then and now, means the breaking of the human spirit and the undoing of civilization.

I am Incensed...

I am enraged...I am furious! Dear readers please read the following assignment for my Humanities class and let me know your thoughts:


Giovanni Batista di Jacopo (1494—14 Nov 1540) il Rosso, better known as Rosso Fiorentino, (i.e. “the red Florentine,” due to his red hair) was a native of Florence and gathered his artistic powers there under the influence of Andrea del Sarto, along with his lifelong friend, another great Mannerist artist, Pontormo. As a youth, he was practically ungovernable, and so could not properly be said to have been anyone’s pupil. However, his acquisitive mind imbibed influences from a variety of directions including, most notably Michelangelo and prints he had seen from the works of northern artists, particularly the Flemish school. He transmuted these influences, along with his own eccentric psychology and aesthetic taste, into a highly individualistic style which drank heavily from the high Renaissance tradition and yet remained distinctly sui generis and enigmatic. He began his independent career in Rome, but after the traumatic rapine inflicted by Imperial troops in 1527, he like so many of his generation found refuge in Northern Italy. From thence, he, along with the great Primaticcio, was invited by François I Valois to adorn the French court. His work was seminal in the foundation of the Fontainebleau School and helped spread the influence of the Italian Renaissance northward into Germany, the Low Countries and England.
Rosso’s work, like that of many other Mannerists, fell out of favor by the early 17th century, and remained largely neglected until the 20th. For this reason, several of his paintings have been lost and others survive only in copies or through the printmaker’s art. Rosso was also a design artist. Under the patronage of François, he was responsible, not only for paintings to adorn chapels, palaces and chateaux, but also the design of tapestries, theatre sets and costumes, dinnerware, decorations prepared for celebrations and royal progresses, tombs and small-scale objets d’art. It could be that the series of drawings of which the Diana was one, was taken from a lost design for an architectural façade, a festival tableau, or for stucco-work like that which still ornaments the Galerie François Ier at Fontainebleau. Or perhaps it was one a set of studies created preparatory to a painting. Its conversion into a print bespeaks the great popularity enjoyed by the artist in his era. The print and bookmakers art was one of the principle vehicles through which artistic styles and ideals of taste spread far and wide during the 16th century.

Diana predates the artist’s departure from Italy to France in 1530 by many years, but it shows remarkable continuity with his later work there, especially in terms of the depiction of the female nude. Compare, for instance, comparable figures in Mars disrobed by Cupid and Venus disrobed by the Graces (pen and ink drawing, 1530) or Venus in Bacchus, Venus and Cupid (Luxembourg Gallery, possibly formerly at Fontainebleau.) There is much of Michelangelo’s aesthetic in the almost masculine vitality and volume of the figure. The musculature is overdeveloped and there is none of the lithe, graceful quality that one might expect in a virgin goddess of the hunt. This deity is firmly rooted to the ground, almost pyramidal in shape. Her bottom-heavy, lozenge-like roundness mirrors and balances the niche in which she stands. In fact, there may be a nod here to a peculiarly northern ideal of beauty, and this characteristic may explain part of Rosso’s appeal beyond the Alps. Compare this figure to Durer’s Eve (in the famous print, Adam and Eve, of 1504) or to Gossaert’s Amphitrite (in Neptune and Amphitrite of 1516.) In any case, the tendency to exaggerate features, (as in the excessively broad hips and thighs, disproportionately reduced head, delicate fingers, and abbreviated lower legs of the goddess) for purposes of balance and elegance of design, is a common feature of Mannerism. In fact, the spare figure of the stag (a lithe, angular foil for the ponderous roundness of Diana’s form), its neck craning back toward the wall, creates a clear symmetry with the ascending curlicue of the bow. The upward gaze of the tense and menaced creature, unreciprocated by the divinity, and balanced and reinforced by the goddess’ extended left arm, serves to draw the attention upward toward the apex of the pyramid, where the only meaningful action is taking place—the removal of a delicate arrow from the quiver. In Mannerism, natural forms are often manipulated into architectural flourishes and compositional depth, highly compressed (though unavoidable, as here, when set in a niche for statuary). Furthermore, there is a cool impassivity of expression, even though the allusion here is probably either to Diana’s penchant for slaying innocent woodland creatures or to the terrible retribution she exacted upon Actaeon, a hunter transformed into a stag and torn apart by his own hunting dogs because he violated the sanctity of her ablutions. Considering the courtly ideals of the day, the ultimate meaning, if one is required for such an appealing image, is probably the power the beautiful, virtuous woman exercises over her trembling, love-struck suitor. Yet she draws her arrow to dispatch the poor creature softly and impassively—la belle dame sans merci to perfection. Such a conceit would be deeply appreciated by the late Valois court—preoccupied as it was with pleasures of the flesh and soon to be dominated by the formidable Diane de Poitiers, the goddess’ namesake. The lack of emotional engagement is another typical feature of Mannerist style, although in other examples of Rosso’s work emotion is violent, stylized and incongruously contrasted across the composition. In this sense, it is pure artifice, like the court masques that were so popular in this era—an entertainment designed to appeal to our sense of the beautiful, flatter our knowledge of classical allusions, and draw us out of the filth and imperfection of daily life.

REFERENCES:

Biography of Rosso Fiorentino, at Web Gallery of Art (http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/bio/r/rosso/biograph.html), viewed 2 Feb 2008.

R. J. Knecht, Renaissance Warrior and Patron: The Reign of Francis I. (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 425—461.

Bernard S. Myers and Trewin Copplestone, ed. The History of Art. (New York: Exeter Books, 1985), 512-535.


Now should I feel flattered as she has questioned my intelligence and integrity by her intimations of plagiarism? Good thing I am cute when I'm angry!

Here's to...

Standing up for what you believe in. I recently resigned from a job of five years due to a corporate oversight. But fear not, I have just accepted an offer as the Assistant Manager of Helzberg Diamonds in Southpark. So celebrations are a given. As I have already established the wonderful culinary delights of chef Bernard, it would only seem logical that I celebrate with dessert (and a glass of champagne) from Global. But I have to make a special mention of the soup of the evening Pina Colade - a variation of the namesake drink. Not frozen, but served chilled with succulent bits of pineapple and coconut. I seem to have found my heaven on Earth

Reason #482...

One of the reasons I love my partner is that we both enjoy playing devils advocate. I have recently enrolled back in school dedicated to actually graduate from college, as this is the third time. It's not lack of will power or detertmination. Dropping out was an economic choice on one front, but heavily tied to emotional well being and a cross country move on the previous endeavor. But I already feel like the odd man out and it's the second day of class. I don't think myself smarter than the average bear, but I really dislike when adults cannot think for themselves.

To elaborate, when discussing art appreciation, it is inherant that the enjoyment of art is subjective, but is it so much to ask that people leave their religious and moral prejudice at the door. One classmate likened the artist Andres Serrano to a child molester, and claimed mortal offense. But I retorted that an image is a likeness and carries no inherant holiness, nor do the materials elevated the work to such high status. The offense is taken from the title. Coupled with a fundamentally Christian belief that the body is evil. In a room of 54 I was the only truly unoffended person. In short this makes me want to move.

Painting: Piss Christ by Andres Serrano

It's been a while...

I feel that if one is discontent one has no one to blame but themselves, which is not to say that I walk around with a moronic grin, finding the joy in a glass half full/empty. But I realize that I choose my basic level of happiness, luckily I live in an at will state for employment. If I am unhappy at work I can seek other opportunity. Easier said than done granted, but things worth having are things worth working for.
Hard to believe that nearly a decade ago I gave up my song and dance routines. But on Sunday I happened to see an advertisement for "Into the Woods" auditions at a community theatre. I went on a two day refresher and practiced heavily before deciding to put myself back out there. The Theater was an hour drive from where I live in the greater Charlotte area, and was located in a very old church which had been converted into a bomb shelter. But I stuck with it and decided I drove all this way. Nerves sometimes get the better of me. Now I won't pretend that everything went swimmingly - I in no way expect to be called back. I committed a very serious auditioning faux pas -- I forgot the words to my audition piece, not once but twice. So I had the accompanist skip ahead to the chorus. After the preceding mistakes the director was completely surprised when I hit some notes in a range much higher than any of the other wannabees. The look on his and the rest of the judges faces was of delight and shock. All in all I think I have some serious decisions to make - do I pick up a dream I have shelved for many years or do I let it rest in the peaceful slumber which it has become accustomed too.

Painting: "Adam and Eve" by Tamara De Lempicka