They Will Rock Us to Sleep in Their Cold Arms and Eat Our Brains for Breakfast.

Zombies as portrayed in the movie Night of the...

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Why are there so many movies and stories about vampires and zombies in the last twenty or thirty years?

As if people have lost their faith in an afterlife except for some corporeal form, but don’t want to struggle with what that means. So zombies and vampires infest our dreams. The idea that we can live forever as magical beings, isn’t that what religions have been saying for thousands of years in more incorporeal terms?

I have been dreaming about zombies and vampires lately. I know there are plenty of mass media sources for these dreams, but it feels more personal and deeper than that; Besides the media extravaganza of  the undead has been going on for many years without particularly affecting my dreams. I suspect it has more to do with my current studies of the physical body and psychology. In fact, the scientific study of human beings may be responsible for the popularity of the undead in recent mass storytelling media.

Mortality is a tough concept to wrap a brain around, but it seems more and more, the sources of the processes we thought were spiritual can be found in the machinery of the body. The terrible fanaticism of religion against science could be linked to the increasing evidence that we are our bodies and thus our individual existence will end with physical death. We, as a species, don’t usually like to be afraid or uncertain about events that are inevitable. This is a difficult concept for most of us to be comfortable with. Often we build stories and fantasies around concepts that frighten or mystify us involving the personification forces of nature that we can’t control, thus the elaborate tales of gods and demons representing the frightening and often unfathomable doings of the natural world. Even a frightening vision is better than a uncertain void out of which unknown horrors might appear. We see the evidence and try to distract ourselves with games and sparkly visions, but can’t completely erase the looming experiential experiment we all must participate in without seeing the results of previous billions of subject researchers. We can only gather evidence from what remains after the event, but there will be no surveys or comparing of notes on the effects of death from the deceased’s point of view, no photographs or sound recordings. So 0ut of the darkness of this final unmappable land beyond life, the zombies and vampires have come to scare and comfort us in our dreams.

 

Posted in All part of the process, Dreamtime, Geographies of Death, mindworks, Mythical and mysterious, Telling Stories, thinking in words | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

January Sky

Writing at my desk, I turn my head

and see clouds through windows,

 piling and stretching, coalescing,

unlike the hard edges of human symbols

rigid traps for thoughts sent

from one isolated mind to others.

Clouds roam the January sky

a documentary film of wild thought

roaming the open mind morphing in subtle

shifts from one shape to another or

sliding into seamless combination or

 separating into frayed

fragments evaporating into mist

sprinkled over the blue background

to be caught and molded

newly by the wind.

No translation or subtitles necessary

check internal schedule for best local viewing times

Posted in Art in Nature, capturing light, internal landscape, mindworks, poetry, winter, wonder world | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

September 2011: Suddenly Everything is Put in Motion

In September I embarked on a  new career path to become Physical Therapist Assistant. With the help of a worker retraining grant, I enrolled in prerequisite courses. It was a huge step for me after 25 years as an early childhood educator. I love teaching, but I am ready to try a field where I will be able to educate and help people while having my time respected by an actual living wage. I filled in a lot forms and attended orientations. There were few sleepless nights as well, but now I am half-way through anatomy and physiology and doing “A” grade work. I am thinking something interesting might come out of these shaky first steps in September, at least some stretching of my experiential bounderies and some poetry.

9/1

Journal Entry:

At the Orientation

“Daniel types like this,” he announces pointing his index fingers out, moving them up and down in front of his body.

9/2

Journal Entry:

It was a rough night, full of worry and tossing. I am resolved today to face fears and find a path through them. Nothing is desperate right now. Why do I let this get to me? My brain works on all the wrong things. I should be looking for wonder and joy; instead I find fear and apathy.

9/6

Dream:

A simple and exact cardboard cutout house all with finely drawn details, Kevin Costner appears in a cut out window hefting a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“I hated Wall Street,” he proclaims and moves away into the surrounding darkness.

Journal Entry:

Each day is a different me, but still nothing moves forward.

9/9

Poem:

Skin in the Game

I never want to hurt anyone

Including and mostly myself

But, I can never stop

                                    not Being.

Potential Protagonist?

Where should I begin? Oh, yeah how about here? Right in the middle. Bramble says that the middle is the only place you will ever be. That makes sense, since you can’t really start over and at the end, well, it’s over.

Who is Bramble? He’s my sometimes friend and sometimes antagonist. Does that make me the protagonist? I am the protagonist of my life I guess.

9/10

Journal entry:

Saturday in September and I have nothing . . . nothing . . . nothing . . .

9/11

Dream Door:

Huge double door all of golden wood and twice my height with the round cross sections of 3 trees embedded in two thirds of a circle and cut down the middle with a tree cross section on either side of center line and one bisected below in the middle.

9/12

Journal Entry:

The scared little man was shouting in my head all night, all the nagging little fears personified. I woke several times with his shrill voice screaming about nothing in particular.

9/26

This Morning’s Self- Assessment

An average man, pale, wizard crazy silver blonde hair piled like clouds on top, 53, anxious, unemployed mostly, battling fears and taking on uncertain projects, always struggling with priorities, hoarding objects because memories seem so tenuous, nothing stays long in the mind always something else catches the eye and drags it all away. Learning by some process where disparate items coalesce in chaotic masses before focusing into a sort of order.

9/28

Journal Entry:

I feel so much calmer today, without any real reason. I just get going on worries, and they cascade, gain weight. There are so many things to do, but none of them overwhelming.

Posted in All part of the process, change, Dreamtime, Fiction, mindworks, my life, personal history, poetry, Questions and riddles, Self-Experiments, Teaching and Learning, Telling Stories, the end is the beginning, thinking in words, time travel, visions from the dark side, working world | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Winterlines


Posted in capturing light, winter | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Dissection and Construction: Two Imaginary drawings

Dissection I

Last week we started dissecting cats in my anatomy and physiology class. I was nervous about cutting into a kitty, even a dead and preserved one, but it turned out to be more like preparing meat than anything else. Now I know at least one way to skin a cat. Anyway with all of the pictures of dissections and actual dissections I have been experiencing lately the feeling of internal biological structures revealed has crept into my drawing. This is not representational but more abstract and imaginative, maybe a life form yet to be discovered. It reminds me of muscles and bones with some organs at either end. Maybe I will draw the outside next.

Hive I

This is a piece I did a few weeks ago and fits in with some of my imaginary objects. As this piece developed I noticed that part of it look like a landing platform. It looks both grown and built maybe a symbiotic form created  by winged animals and  plants.

Posted in Drawing, My Art, my life | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment