~kat~ RAMBLINGS, OBSERVATIONS, AND MISTRANSLATIONS
~november 15, 1998~
"& there was trouble taking place....."
slept last night in my mother's bed with my nose buried in lavender pillows, lulled to sleep by the hushing sensuality of lady day trickling over the radio.....felt like ten years old again, before my parents started to sleep in seperate bedrooms and their conversations became filled with chirps and pauses. back to the days of playtend. with all the stories in my head i decided i am going to start a journal for alexander, just sort of jot things down, stories, etc., for him to read and laugh over. give it to him when he turns twenty three, show him where i was way back then. i spent time with him and beth today, so very precious he is, i can't get over it. as he nestled up against my neck, soft toy breathing intermingling with the usual intoxicating scent of baby-fresh skin, i could hear his miniature heart beating.....oh, to spend seven weeks lying there like that with him.....just vacate and watch him suck up the world in his eyes.....
my now ex-new-paramour said that he didn't know what i was about.....that i was a mystery to him. it is something that i hear alot in my life and i don't understand why, i'm open for examination. i told him i am about being sweet, because i am, and appreciating people for what they can give, accentuating their strengths.....i try to do this, at least, but i too tire of pathological know-it-alls, people that feel the newest phase they're in is the only just and correct way to be.....these individuals are stealthy in disguising their chronic metamorphoses, their fervor in new fresh thang converted into an apparent lust for life that, only after knowing them for awhile, one realizes is actually an addiction to superficial philosophies in which they don't have the wherewithal or substance to pursue beyond the pages of a pop psychologist's snappy explanation. thusly they turn up every few months with a whole new carpetbag of tricks: look at me, i'm okay, you're.....well.....not.....me. so when i attempt to accept people based on the idea that we're all struggling along and trying to learn about ourselves, it becomes taxing to consistently observe these type of individuals put on a show for no one but themselves.....and what i find even more pathetic is the fact that they believe they are actually making progress, that all isn't for naught: this is one step on the stairway to heaven......er, enlightenment.
so much of organized religion is like this: someone with a really great idea, fresh perspective, wanting to share it with others.....and on down through a few generations there are inevitably lost souls that find it less painful to believe unerringly in the supposedly set in stone ideas of some guy who had given the time, he'd done the work.....and now we're all vampires hoping that by just acting like him we'll become him. we don't want to put in the time.....why bother? hey, i've got a car payment and a trip to disneyland in the works, not to mention the fact that my wife just had another baby and i'm still only making $35,000 a year.....i don't have the room in my life to get all funky and spiritual, i'm too busy being......well.....busy. i'm all booked up with filling up my time until i die, at which point, i hope (and mind you i pray a couple times a week before either i eat or get laid) i'll climb into some deliciously golden room with harps and shit and angels that used to be playboy bunnies.....but somebody else told me this is how it is, and sometimes, when i have a spare moment, i pray that they're right.
i don't want to sound callous because when you get down to it, i'm certain i'm just as cursory as everybody else, perhaps i hide my superfluous ways a bit more, perhaps i don't.....but i get caught up in the bullshit all the time. that's my fucking shit right there, that's what all my rants are about: battling within myself whether or not to give into the bullshit. seriously, when i think about what i want in life, down in it i want to be absolutely emotionally raw with someone, at least once in my life.....so vulnerable and open that we both leave with the fearlessness i would like to think is inherent in complete trust.....
an ex-eva-sweet once said that i was fearless.....but what can be scary in being alive? everything, of course, i have fear everyday.....but i also have faith in a cosmic design.....when asked to explain why, the only answer i can supply is i prefer the peacefulness i find in my belief that we are a part of some lusciously orchestrated dance.....i prefer that to the nothingness i have felt in pools of doubt.....why do i prefer to succumb to an opiate? because deep down i feel that the most important thing we can do on this planet, regardless of outcome, is share love and happiness and encouragement with other people. i can't do that if i'm all wrapped up in a sea of negativity. i can't really enjoy these minutes we have.....
sometimes i feel artistic creation is one of the highest callings in our society because it provides something that food, water, shelter, clothing, etc. cannot: documented shared experience. saying, hey, just wanted alla ya ta know that this is what's been goin' on in my head.....i've been seein' fire and feelin' gravel and.....it's just another form of real, that's all, don't be afraid. i mean, what could be more powerful than giving someone the gift of okay?
~november 13, 1998~
"no matter how i think we grow, you always seem to let me know....."
i know i been waxin' on & on about the upcoming revamp of the site, and i assure you that it is in the hopper, hot and ready. the new "edition," as it were, will feature new artists, as well as a streamlining of alla us old kidz. i'm also in the process of making the site more interactive, and since the guestbook was chopping up messages left and right, i grabbed a free cgi forum offa the 'net to tide us all over until i can find something more creatively acceptable. since the imminent close of the stompin' grounds that virtually birthed this site, (almost all the artists here met for the first time on the message boards of cafe los negroes) we're a vibrant gaggle o' wildflowers in need of a space to share our wares. i'm hoping to provide a more interactive atmosphere for alla us to appreciate, mainly because the time spent on the cln message boards has been an important part of us developing our voice, or at least feeling we have a place to throw shit up and see where it goes.
among the new artists that will be featured on the site are the lyrical majick of the always run'n r-squared, miss tinez's smooth explorations, and nemo, who's affinity for the catch phrase is something i can only envy. miss malice and e/mat are coughing up some new juice as previously promised. but that's just the beginning.....i got a whole new idea for the site design, so it'll be refreshing.
offa dat! i know catch up is dull, but i gotta represent.
now, so.....this film thing. been doing exterior shots, the main meat of the film will be shot on sunday, and it's pretty straight up. tonight in class we watched a few people's raw footage which gave me ideas on very concrete do's and don'ts. i'm really going to mess around with the lighting, which i think will prove to be the most interestingly creative facet to this first shoot. composition itself.....the actress i'm working with has some really good ideas and we met yesterday to work out script details. i may be a bossy bitch about some thangs, but i swear i love collaboration! i really do! so, that's going cool, although the idea of editing 8mm film is extremely daunting. that shit is tiny!
anyway, speaking of collaboration, my previous expression of soda-shop-rest-stop regarding the new paramour is now again reiterated, and actually, we spoke on tuesday and we're pretty much done. he's got children and he's trying to deal with his role, etc., as well as the fact that he's thinkin' on gettin' back with the mother of his kids, which in many ways i totally support. since i know very little about the details of the situation, i just stepped back and said, "hey, i hear ya, and i think it's important for you to figure this shit out." we'll remain friends, no doubt, and i actually feel pretty positive about it. always leaves me wondering.....but that's okay, if i knew everything, or even if i knew anything, i'd be bored and all these ramblings would end up talking about pasta recipes or some such shit.....and maybe my moody meanderings are tiresome, but it's a good outlet for me, i suppose. it's funny, because i'm an extremely positive/optimistic person. day to day i'm always very sweet and happy, i enjoy feeling and being and appreciating all the random seconds. i try very hard to be positive and revel in my surroundings. when i sit down to write, however, all my worries/questions/fears/doubts come forward, and putting them down exorcizes them.....empties out wounds and bruises, helps me keep it all together. so you, my sweet nothings, come around and read what i'm on about and think, "fuck, she's morose....." "is that why they call me a sullen girl.....?"
so much space and i am reeling. i don't apologize, not a bit, for my subject matter.....i usually just sit down and go at it, fly into this oblivion, and wax, wax, wax.....if i can borrow that for a moment. i was walking home from my film class tonight and i heard this girl at a bus stop say, "i lived sixteen years before i met a really cool guy." that got me thinking about fathers and brothers and piano teachers.....neighbors, postmen.....bus drivers and grade school crushes......is it all shadowboxing until that one grand moment where it all makes ----- sense? and what does that moment taste like? how about a smell? does it have a lovely feel? will i know it when it's happening, or is it another one of those vicious 20/20 hindsight thangs? the jitteriness of staying up all night painting pictures on broken glass windows? careening face first through stairwells because i'm afraid to look down.....? back up under the sheets, at 6:32 in the a.m., aretha trickling down the wall from the upstairs.....soft gingerbread steps of my landlady dancing her clothes on.....so soft, cozy, emblazened jingle of my seashell chimes comforting me against the bluish light filtering through the cracked windows......at ground level i greet each morning like a mole, rising from the earth, cautiously tiptoeing into the real world, no nametag, no introduction.....alone in my thoughts, and the mystery so often mentioned, the shroud that thickens my syllables against the world.....will this be pierced, all of it, by that one tantalizing second? how can i give this mythical man my vision and then listen to him breathe it in? put it in a cup of tea, maybe.....bake a pie and offer him some honey to take home to mama.
too bad experimentation isn't free, else i'd be out there breaking something......over and over and over and over and over and over and over........and over......
~november 8, 1998~
more good news!! amidst all the stress and business and usual malcontentedness i was blessed with a beautiful gift: a nephew! i'm now an aunt, for the very first time in my life.....sure, i've been a surrogate "auntie kat" before, but this is the real live thang! y'all know how much i love babies, thank god i was born with at least one strand of reason in my head else i'd have a brood of my own by now, all in the name of pleasurable enjoyment.
name: alexander mclean oak. regal name, no doubt.
birthday: november 5, 1998. at approximately 2 in the afternoon.
parents: my older brother gavin and his girlfriend (of ten years) beth. lickle alex looks exactly like alla us oaks. no milkman worries here.
facts-n-figures: he was born three weeks early and so is only seven lbs. he's the most perfect thing i've ever seen, i swear. he doesn't really cry as much as he squeaks. so far he seems to be a pretty chill bambino, for a three day old.
when i was holding him i was in awe. he's so small you can hold him in your hand almost, and his neck is really strong, he can almost hold his head up by himself. i spent the day yesterday with gavin and beth and the rest o' mi familia. it was good, it felt like christmas. it got me thinking "what on earth am i on about? what am i doing?" but what doesn't these days?! new people coming into this world, and as i sat there holding him i was thinking, "where were you before here? who were you?" personality, inclination beyond instinct, fascinates me. kids are never "potatoes" they're always aware of what's going on, from first minute to last.
anyway, got my super 8 mm film camera tonight, gonna start makin' mooooveeees. our first subject is assigned, but after that we come up with alla the goods ourselves. i'm excited to have this camera in my sweaty lickle hands. we'll see where this wave takes me. i've also been thinking alot about going on an endless road trip, but as it is barely a seed in my psyche at the moment, i won't bore you with it until it's grown into something bigger, if it ever does.
everything flowing so smoothly, and i'm so busy, but i have been thinking alot about the nature of human relations. my new paramour has been inspiring me, in some sense, because he's very politically active and often bringing up issues to chat about that are fairly sticky in a rather un-p.c. type o' way. i just finished reading toni morrison's beloved for the second time in my life, and each time i have read it i've come away with a much more articulate supposition of the rancor slavery has placed in the very roots of africans. with propostion 200 passing this past week (for those who don't know, it basically abolished affirmative action on the state/city/governmental level in washington state) i am left lamenting the ignorance of so many. as if it's really that big of a deal to give preferential treatment to a group of people that are still living in the shadow of the most raw type of human fear: the stripping of identity. i mean, let's get real. here is a section of the population whom, for the past five hundred years, have been alienated, mistreated, and abused beyond any semblance of tolerance. so, for the last hundred years or so they start to gain some ground, but look at all the bullshit they've got to deal with: confusing histories, burned family trees, an essential fear of being held hostage by the color of their skin. something so fucking minute, really, i am sick with the childishness of it.
i know that often people say we should not judge history through the eyes of the present, but i'm sorry, there is no way i can conceive that at any point in time did the stepped upon not know it. take a look at the french revolution. that's a perfect reflection of shit that is happening today, and always will happen because of the inherent selfishness of humans. the huddled masses of france knew they were being mistreated, and the only way they could think to even the score was by erasing the aristocracy completely. having your people being treated like animals for hundreds of years is going to have an affect on you whether you know and feel it or not. i guess we could get into a nature/nurture thing here if we want. genetic memory is, as far as i'm concerned, base to the human personality. our history is in us and we feel it everyday.
what this really comes down to, yet again, is a disgusting lack of vision. short sightedness should be a crime, and it should be punishable by receiving the brunt of your own indiscretion. a more metaphysical brand of "an eye for an eye" old testament practices, perhaps. i know that change only occurs in learning and teaching.....sharing our minds and opening them for eachother. when i held my new little nephew i was thinking of how open wide he is, little eyes sucking in the figures that will play a role in his life. changing this lack of vision that occurs on a base human level will be the most difficult task we as a species could ever take on. and it's about changing our roots, and giving new ones to our children. plants will evolve in certain situations to the point that they are acclimated and can fight the pests and disease native to their environment. we need that type of reinvention if we are going to be anything other than spirtually bereft, living hand to mouth. somebody needs to stop this exhausted snowball, so why not you and me?
~november 2, 1998~
so it is officially bastet75's b-day this month. i doubt any o' y'all ever bother to check back, but it's pretty cool to read my historical ramblings, i'm sure i dance back and contradict myself, perhaps even surprise myself, alla the time.....but that's part o' the old charm, eh?
the last couple of weeks i've been runnin' with a new lickle paramour. sweet as sugar, uh-huh. he's got a lot of complications though, and i keep thinking i've gotta keep my mind outta this nevermind.....something about being very ready to wait awhile for a grain of magic. you know my thoughts on infatuation with what we would like to be, and i'ma jump off this train and sit around at a soda stand for awhile, just chill.....i guess. so much bullshit wrapped up in stupid colors, ya know? but i'm understanding, i'm understanding.....
it's like when i look out and i see a dahlia, so ruby and gentle and reeking of crib death.....maybe it's hanging in front of my window or smashed on the asphalt along second avenue, wherever i see it, i spy another dimension, one i wasn't born in. and i like to stand back and ponder all the differences in that dahlia dimension, changes in the curvature of the moon (if there even is a moon).....slight alterations simmering beneath the scent of baking cinnamon apple pie (if there even are scents).....crevices of mutation chipping away at the permafrost of society (if there even is a society.) small understandings result in this contemplation of modified hues.
it can be a dahlia, it can be a bus ride.....a lover, a book, a joke.....it can be the taste of new orleans water (blech!) it can be and is every damn thing that i bother to get into the world of. the mind of something as simple as a dahlia can prove to be rather complex once i start reasoning like a dahlia.....it's not really nonsense, but it is non-sense. and i find that i feel impotent in my desire to blow up in somebody else's face once in awhile.....like when my new lover meanders about the differences inherent in our skin tone, i want to jump into the rafters of the crumbling mythical church created by our sighs and bellow something about different dimensions that are made of the same fucking dahlia petals, just different brands of ruby, just different brands of crib death.....different brands of life.
colorkarma. history is cloaked in her triumphant robes, the wrinkles of nuance have long been ironed out, and it's all just a guessing game, really. you and i can look into the streets and watch the television for a terrifyingly accurate picture of who won and who lost, on the grand scale.....it is easy to identify the marginalized, those thought superfluous always outnumber those writing the definitions. the shades and traumas of all our shared human history bleed into our subconscious, it's all right up there.....tucked away so we don't have to think about it. but we could. and when i think about who won or who lost i always come up dry. seems far too gray to even verbalize one side or the other. or the other. or the other. or the other.
when this door opens up i need/want/have to reconcile abandon. achievement is what if it is not compassion? more and more these days i can't wake up sprightly: i have a different taste in my mouth that itches almost as much as it burns. what i think about the most is just opening up and doing it. moving into the realm of continuous exploration. just saying fuck it and forgetting about "security" and "responsibility" and all the words handed down from the winners of this unvictorious & fictional war.
perhaps it all comes down to pack animals trying all their measly lives to break from the pack. what pack? which pack? where's it at? which is the right one? we're on fire from the day we're born, and we know it, but it takes us almost seventy-odd years to figure out how to calm the flames. and by then, we love the burn so much, we can't bear to sate it.