tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13434615260024016432024-03-18T06:25:00.609-07:00Writing Out Loud...to Keep My Head Above Water and Maybe Figure Some Stuff Out.
I'm playing out lines of thinking, not positing truths. Let's play. (see timelesspitch.com and whichwrites.com for writer CA Ives)MrsWhichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16658447866035510442noreply@blogger.comBlogger477125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-51090408843621880912024-02-28T05:44:00.000-08:002024-02-28T06:45:42.026-08:00Contextualizing a lifetime<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QnaOz7H6GcC_hoqaYEM_HXS7ristANqs1JA_RIQ7aL35C2DieBYNI0EgxcEEwhEfdzhnQ4Xih83TjLIHWQC2fVoE-W84PEnOl62CfI0o6MK5HkIET7OntDZ7Hk8OM4EjqrG_E48My-WYqw8EZSJhQyE-pgxblLSZzmfuDa-BuSy8Z3sOFMXsnZ2hOn0V/s1024/cai9920_celestial_sages_versus_celestial_wretches_in_the_golden_1078c82d-62dc-4793-b2e6-fad9aef3ae56.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QnaOz7H6GcC_hoqaYEM_HXS7ristANqs1JA_RIQ7aL35C2DieBYNI0EgxcEEwhEfdzhnQ4Xih83TjLIHWQC2fVoE-W84PEnOl62CfI0o6MK5HkIET7OntDZ7Hk8OM4EjqrG_E48My-WYqw8EZSJhQyE-pgxblLSZzmfuDa-BuSy8Z3sOFMXsnZ2hOn0V/s320/cai9920_celestial_sages_versus_celestial_wretches_in_the_golden_1078c82d-62dc-4793-b2e6-fad9aef3ae56.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Account (Midjourney-generated 2023)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This is the download today, rough-hewn and unedited as I have NO TIME FOR THIS:<p></p><p>The Body and Spirit require several layers of translation as their comprehension of reality is very different. Body has Mind and Spirit has Wisdom. Generally speaking, Spirit only decides about important things, consulting Wisdom, which is bringing the knowledge of mind, body, and experience to a place Spirit can begin to understand and act upon. For most of our lives, Mind and Body make most decisions, overseen and nudged by Wisdom. </p><p>Mind and Wisdom can speak directly about some things. Body and Spirit can speak directly about some things, and decide without Wisdom or Mind at all. Spirit can listen to Mind without the input of Wisdom, especially if Body is in favor, and act rashly or decisively (judged by our relation to the outcome). But generally, Spirit decides based on Wisdom, Body decides based on Mind, and their own whims of being. </p><p>In each decade, the Spirit is at a stage or cycle of the lifetime, which then translates itself into the being to inform and guide choices and decisions that come most often during those periods. Body similarly informs Spirit, translating through Mind to Wisdom, which can affect how Spirit responds. </p><p>If we are lucky we get 8 or maybe 9 periods of our lives, often measured by decades.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">Pre-birth</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - gestating (evacuating)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #990000;">developing (stunting) <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #45818e;">building (distorting)</span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: red;">noticing (tuning out)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>1st 10 years<br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #990000;">developing (stunting)</span><span style="color: #783f04; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="color: #783f04;"> </span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #45818e;">building (distorting)</span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: red;">noticing (tuning out)</span><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="color: red;"> </span> </span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #2b00fe;">open (protective)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>Pre-Teen <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - building (distorting)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: red;">noticing (tuning out)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #2b00fe;">open (protective) </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #800180;">asserting (insisting)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>Teen <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: red;">noticing (tuning out) <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #2b00fe;">open (protective) </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #800180;">asserting (insisting)</span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #38761d;">expressing (doing)</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>20’s <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #2b00fe;">open (protective)</span><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"> </span> </span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #800180;">asserting (insisting)</span> <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #38761d;">expressing (doing)</span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #ffa400;">evaluating (coasting)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>30’s <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="color: #800180; white-space: normal;">asserting (insisting)</span> </span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #38761d;">expressing (doing)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Wisdom -<span style="color: #ffa400;"> evaluating (coasting)</span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #660000;">integrating (ignoring)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>40’s <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #38761d;">expressing (doing) </span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #ffa400;">evaluating (coasting)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #660000;">integrating (ignoring)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #ff00fe;">attending (suppressing)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>50’s <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #ffa400;">evaluating (coasting) </span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Mind -<span style="color: #660000;">integrating (ignoring)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #ff00fe;">attending (suppressing)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span> </p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #7f6000;">honouring (dismissing)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>60’s <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #660000;">integrating (ignoring)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #ff00fe;">attending (suppressing)</span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #bf9000;">honouring (dismissing)</span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #0b5394;">deepening (disengaging)</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>70’s <br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #ff00fe;">attending (suppressing)<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span> <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> </p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #bf9000;">honouring (dismissing)</span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #0b5394;">deepening (disengaging)</span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #351c75;">focusing (limiting)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>80’s <br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #bf9000;">honouring (dismissing)</span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #0b5394;">deepening (disengaging)</span></p><p>Wisdom- <span style="color: #351c75;">focusing (limiting)</span></p><p>Spirit - <span style="color: #cc0000;">preparing (avoiding)</span></p><p><br /></p></blockquote>90’s <br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>Body - <span style="color: #0b5394;">deepening (disengaging)</span></p><p>Mind - <span style="color: #351c75;">focusing (limiting)</span></p><p>Wisdom - <span style="color: #990000;">preparing (avoiding)</span></p><p>Spirit - ready (afraid)</p></blockquote><p></p><div><br /></div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-18125343762418790072024-02-08T09:50:00.000-08:002024-02-10T05:42:34.722-08:00I am not for you<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluwGQXIN4dEIvL3uv-ffo1qw53VOfeXAim20Z5TKX7-avQRNxqIrpftI3DU1SYXq19eEUOIgGo_USYE6pPDHD5pt8CF8w3hhkkjPqfm2Q9Ftsq-vggaSSvd9xxUdCehakMV_ZmIaCy103GYSl_4OxIlF5D1gk899XkrhOLaSthtQCCa73oTLq5oQo2MsR/s3471/IMG_0046.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2042" data-original-width="3471" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluwGQXIN4dEIvL3uv-ffo1qw53VOfeXAim20Z5TKX7-avQRNxqIrpftI3DU1SYXq19eEUOIgGo_USYE6pPDHD5pt8CF8w3hhkkjPqfm2Q9Ftsq-vggaSSvd9xxUdCehakMV_ZmIaCy103GYSl_4OxIlF5D1gk899XkrhOLaSthtQCCa73oTLq5oQo2MsR/s320/IMG_0046.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Over Shadow</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I am not for you.<p></p><p>My talents are not for entertaining you.</p><p>My works are not for you to consume.</p><p>My love is not yours to have,</p><p>My time is not yours to claim.</p><p>But, I may give those to you anyway, for love, for fame, for fun</p><p>as a good host will offer her best pastries to the guest.</p><p>I am for Earth. I am for Peace. I am for Myself and my Family 4 and Our </p><p>Good Life. </p><p>We may intersect, support, help, enjoy</p><p>that's my joy</p><p>We may decide to hold cause in common</p><p>that's my passion</p><p>We may choose to share intimate understanding</p><p>that is my life's breath</p><p>and</p><p>I am not here for you.</p><p>We may choose to stay out of each other's repellent field</p><p>or disinterested way</p><p>and that is my loss, to not be for you, as I am, as you need.</p><p>But I am here, dealing too late with the weight of denials</p><p>hoping to shed some pounds and maybe lighten the uphill load for my last days of chances</p><p>to be here for a reason, after all.</p><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-77918259604295130592023-12-17T08:48:00.000-08:002023-12-17T08:48:53.386-08:00Hope's like that<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRG-F2dLOsT0ke8SeVo8-YE2snzzSa37HRiaobgatlpRU9HOq3vv1Bv50IxSCFkGiKkHc1z4w9BgTFIEMcxKw7Kt45oyOyWXOL80wZ8KWqZshJa0K4sOtZdHM80IBKgcJAtKZnmh9PFR2cVHz054DSrng5Fnfugle-yVVonYFKZowoSpSyiYyn3yNJWZZg/s2048/410025673_10161843665426419_8702836596456601919_n.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRG-F2dLOsT0ke8SeVo8-YE2snzzSa37HRiaobgatlpRU9HOq3vv1Bv50IxSCFkGiKkHc1z4w9BgTFIEMcxKw7Kt45oyOyWXOL80wZ8KWqZshJa0K4sOtZdHM80IBKgcJAtKZnmh9PFR2cVHz054DSrng5Fnfugle-yVVonYFKZowoSpSyiYyn3yNJWZZg/s320/410025673_10161843665426419_8702836596456601919_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(CAI 2023)</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Sometimes a wave of hopeful certainty washes over me <div>like a sun-warm current brushing by in the lake, like </div><div> a warm breeze catching my cheek </div><div> on a cool day; like a loving ghost </div><div>and I realize that this feeling is the closest
I have come to peace </div><div>so I savour it and I ask my spirit and body to memorize it </div><div>how it tastes and smells and tingles through </div><div>how it swells and lightens too </div><div>a glimpse to recall later when I need it most.</div></div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-31285436525309975492023-11-24T18:18:00.000-08:002023-12-04T07:55:40.242-08:00Coping. Hoping. <p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEl9cj8ueTIQbK4hzQGk0ZLnFlgfM0k2lIAFiZZw9LL4igF7sbY7n3qx204ejk1ECfgM645yH6zXRpVwXcO5PCu8YBUlI-O4cGTs2i2qwhCVk6FSuaR6ZIMKOjzurnuPsjv9jhRFNBtSItalstW9TnSFGQkWML517DfwhSM6eJyNf5oYPHdemuwK7tBCiq/s1865/IMG_0129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1865" data-original-width="1077" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEl9cj8ueTIQbK4hzQGk0ZLnFlgfM0k2lIAFiZZw9LL4igF7sbY7n3qx204ejk1ECfgM645yH6zXRpVwXcO5PCu8YBUlI-O4cGTs2i2qwhCVk6FSuaR6ZIMKOjzurnuPsjv9jhRFNBtSItalstW9TnSFGQkWML517DfwhSM6eJyNf5oYPHdemuwK7tBCiq/s320/IMG_0129.JPG" width="185" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hope to Cope (CAI 2023)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></p><p> I think we often lose sight of the point of this game. </p><p>Peace. Peace on Earth. A happiness resort. An enjoyment park. Earth, the life-giving planet, a place to experience Heaven on Earth.</p><p>So why are we building Hell?</p><p>It's a choice. The 8 people in charge of the world could, together, use their billions, their power, their so-called genius, to force the world into a Heavenly state. Or a place where life matters, at least. Where we care about each life as the precious, one-time experience that it is. </p><p>I cope. I cope by regular reset. I just got here. Just now. Everything I know, remember, feel, is Back Story to this avatar I inhabit. It feels so real. But it's only immediate, it only exists in my programming, in my character. And these people around me, most of them are NPC's - non-player characters. They are not even aware that they are in the game. But some of them, everywhere, there are people who are also me, also the same player I am, but playing thousands, millions of us, at once. So some of us are me. And some of us are the Other Players. Figuring out who is who would be a lot of work, so I just play. I look for a reason to love you. I look for a reason to show you me, to work our purposes together into something helpful to Peace. The goal. The only point. Peace on Earth. A beautiful celebration of life, every life. Not in the lifetime of this character, for sure, but since that's the focus of my play, what can this character do, from here? Maybe 20-30 years left, in a body going downhill. What will I do with this play? How many Karma Points will I earn for my Entity, my Team? How much experience will I add to the pool of Being that Being is Doing by Doing this form of Being?</p><p>I cope. I hope. </p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-41084466409937559582023-11-07T04:55:00.000-08:002023-11-07T04:55:42.753-08:00Daily cry <p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOQgHMofxsR3qpRF5G5w_8SJo3HWP16vJqx36_zEyDPzbaZVjPr4ts7xiwwH9uZpsmFmS7s6RdXiIQJGbW33t0RhEC4fbNXJhPIT-zwpiLvd6Lmt-mTihY9-iVMbpPuO2X_YlSIXK2oASVIy4zoIfSOtvwK6Iu5k0oXE499ZVyESk-_WS2qJhzXsrQd0u/s2303/IMG_0245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1736" data-original-width="2303" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOQgHMofxsR3qpRF5G5w_8SJo3HWP16vJqx36_zEyDPzbaZVjPr4ts7xiwwH9uZpsmFmS7s6RdXiIQJGbW33t0RhEC4fbNXJhPIT-zwpiLvd6Lmt-mTihY9-iVMbpPuO2X_YlSIXK2oASVIy4zoIfSOtvwK6Iu5k0oXE499ZVyESk-_WS2qJhzXsrQd0u/s320/IMG_0245.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grief's Tender Hold (CAI 2023)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Every day I cry.</p><p>For a short time, in a controlled way, in a private space </p><p>I let myself feel </p><p>all the things about all the things</p><p>I lower the shields, allow</p><p>confusion, anguish, frustration, futility</p><p>grief</p><p>the straightjacket free-fall of life on earth</p><p>lava-burning tributaries searing through me</p><p>roiling and boiling over into moans and groans and whimpers and growls</p><p>and tears</p><p>facing the state of hate and fear of the world</p><p>seeing a future of pain unfurl, knowing</p><p>inside me is just too small to contain it all</p><p>without killing me.</p><p>I make time and space to move it through, expel what I can</p><p>because you know what they say:</p><p>better out than in</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-57467293728533336792023-10-10T06:04:00.005-07:002023-10-10T06:28:11.297-07:00The taste of medicine<div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnnTE8b0G_9d9FdNdiUrbLGML9v2j9WTT5DmMMVKB-5KAHjTi-FipuY4PHHnJ2ZeABk-PMAe7IrDabttKTrIALNJZLA2Q7aUYiWlbDVb6RlsHg9Eh7pXzJNA0V7lteN2CcUuHVhWGU8_Wi5ThklTwOWjIJ2mBq5q7Q-jW97FYclWrHapx-XmO-s8N7iIk/s1024/CAI_abstract_power_is_as_power_does_fbac4c3c-eef9-4606-b762-f3a534d63ac4.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnnTE8b0G_9d9FdNdiUrbLGML9v2j9WTT5DmMMVKB-5KAHjTi-FipuY4PHHnJ2ZeABk-PMAe7IrDabttKTrIALNJZLA2Q7aUYiWlbDVb6RlsHg9Eh7pXzJNA0V7lteN2CcUuHVhWGU8_Wi5ThklTwOWjIJ2mBq5q7Q-jW97FYclWrHapx-XmO-s8N7iIk/s320/CAI_abstract_power_is_as_power_does_fbac4c3c-eef9-4606-b762-f3a534d63ac4.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h3><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Power is as Power does (CAI & Midjourney, 2023)</span></h3></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I never promised I'd be sweet.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Maybe I am the taste of your own medicine<br />dosed by the universe today <br />through the play on words that is our exchange<br />maybe<br />your experience of me<br />is what you asked for, what you need<br />and I am just a tool of your subconscious evocation<br />the me you see not real at all<br />not even me, you see, not at all<br />just what you called, what you need someone to be</div><div style="text-align: left;">right now</div><div style="text-align: left;">If I've allowed a confrontation</div><div style="text-align: left;">what a gift! what a cost to me. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">You're welcome. </div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-40261786151815525422023-10-01T12:24:00.001-07:002023-10-01T12:26:57.409-07:00Working through something<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGsgiLtGdEQZn3_LcUNoed8D0SFtRXB8U9s-7Q_yAvDYPvJmh9YrrR-s05f7IDoAFpQheAFZ6Zutttwju4tYve7ixGJMRlwjnPalsTLaHuYHcNGEhSAjdSMSm2yaNSe8huedS9wvlpN3gK7Kh03Al-JCxd_A-MypSP2QwjEZxFirSF_NDINhQHbpVoRDo/s3389/20230722_181912.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3389" data-original-width="1520" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGsgiLtGdEQZn3_LcUNoed8D0SFtRXB8U9s-7Q_yAvDYPvJmh9YrrR-s05f7IDoAFpQheAFZ6Zutttwju4tYve7ixGJMRlwjnPalsTLaHuYHcNGEhSAjdSMSm2yaNSe8huedS9wvlpN3gK7Kh03Al-JCxd_A-MypSP2QwjEZxFirSF_NDINhQHbpVoRDo/s320/20230722_181912.jpg" width="144" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early Days (CAI 2023)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />When words are as exhausted as I am<div>When even paintings seem too verbose</div><div>When the people with the most understanding misunderstand substantially </div><div>and like their version better</div><div>Does it even make sense to express? </div><div>So it must be for me, I guess</div><div>I must want to for me or I wouldn't be here, typing</div><div>I wouldn't be here, trying </div><div>when trying hasn't gotten me as far as one might expect. </div><div>I'm working through something, that has nothing to do with anything</div><div>but my own experience, my own gut, my own integrity </div><div>in a body of limited lifespan on a planet at a moment of history </div><div>in a place I've chosen</div><div>cloaked and hidden in my warren</div><div>expressing through the illusion </div><div>my own little versions of truth</div><div>Not for you, but maybe for you</div><div>if you're here, if the universe sent you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Out loud is the price of my privilege to speak. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-33292809316654465242023-09-04T06:44:00.002-07:002023-09-04T06:44:22.036-07:00Disappearing<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdi42yKTanJZf1jByF6Nqv4-wifyex4hDPLRpRB0idHCnBraXeRZv2HdUunvBrxePpXbnIlaD2oOkWotEZzHWVQITYamCR82C4JW_1GNC-hNxm4z8y6lA46yErsxlsazHlYAW7-vHMjqMRn5QygcyrPvF-qEdp-K7m03T299SUTnm4Wi7k_sulponN0ebB/s566/CAI_The_more_that_you_argue_with_your_thoughts_the_more_your_th_1746fe94-97ac-4c6b-9fe5-396f280b85c4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="566" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdi42yKTanJZf1jByF6Nqv4-wifyex4hDPLRpRB0idHCnBraXeRZv2HdUunvBrxePpXbnIlaD2oOkWotEZzHWVQITYamCR82C4JW_1GNC-hNxm4z8y6lA46yErsxlsazHlYAW7-vHMjqMRn5QygcyrPvF-qEdp-K7m03T299SUTnm4Wi7k_sulponN0ebB/s320/CAI_The_more_that_you_argue_with_your_thoughts_the_more_your_th_1746fe94-97ac-4c6b-9fe5-396f280b85c4.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Negative Space (CAI + Midjourney)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Disappearing seems to require</p><p>some kind of announcement </p><p>because it's not about disappearing</p><p>it's about our absence</p><p>being</p><p>noticed</p><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-7589902830346891732023-08-27T10:52:00.001-07:002023-08-27T10:52:56.293-07:00Breadcrumbs<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0Fi7is-4zg9QVZdwKorLzV8t1Jg4DgiWaofjrO0XFm7FgoS9bm876WsOL83BqBa4Lw62FB8TKtz6jjcnsaK7QBCjey6uxKOzsBXQ8VXcmcq3zFTVcRX1A7ugIXtyQh6vdhyvRDyW-LySEwLKHuL8P6Pk4OIr8ZgvkLlVCrCwnzBwVNaqs14IvMMnfb6p/s1024/CAI_a_perfect_day_f1b54a5f-0b71-4895-8bb9-a0bc700c7836.png" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0Fi7is-4zg9QVZdwKorLzV8t1Jg4DgiWaofjrO0XFm7FgoS9bm876WsOL83BqBa4Lw62FB8TKtz6jjcnsaK7QBCjey6uxKOzsBXQ8VXcmcq3zFTVcRX1A7ugIXtyQh6vdhyvRDyW-LySEwLKHuL8P6Pk4OIr8ZgvkLlVCrCwnzBwVNaqs14IvMMnfb6p/s400/CAI_a_perfect_day_f1b54a5f-0b71-4895-8bb9-a0bc700c7836.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A perfect day as envisioned by Midjourney<br />and also my nightmare</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>I never re-read what I write. You know my aversion to backwards. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I imagine if you happen here unexpectedly</div><div>for no reason I can think of but Chance </div><div>you might wonder at my wallowing</div><div>which makes sense, after all</div><div>this is where I wallow </div><div>Wallow and push. Wallow and push. </div><div>Like Labour, which taught me more than just how much pain I can take, like</div><div><br /></div><div>anything is possible </div><div>achievement comes at cost</div><div>with grief and loss and gain</div><div>everything ends </div><div>but it's just a change of the same</div><div>pain comes in waves</div><div>relief demands sacrifice but commits to no promises </div><div>just dangled potential that glimmers in and out of focus.</div><div>dignity is impossible.</div><div>having literally no choice is the best driver when </div><div>what I am doesn't cut it and</div><div>who I expected is still a stone's throw away</div><div>but now is happening today and everything is nothing</div><div>like I thought and I couldn't have guessed what I would do</div><div>until it's done. And that's what I did. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here is where I bite and tear and chew and swallow and expel</div><div>leaving behind</div><div>the breadcrumbs and excrement of my cored self</div><div>in case they are ever helpful for you. </div><div><br /></div><div>Listen to Happy Rhodes. Here's a familiar song to get you started: https://youtu.be/WoNGpa9tJkg?si=azfqeWSjVT4nhV1n</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-84513371155833688692023-08-12T13:32:00.011-07:002023-08-18T20:48:03.205-07:00Advice to the young and to myself<p><b></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrrUnAl_oI2IP1AM2cuIAAaQ_3z6vEwwfHhzQ7e-0JWrKJ5RXQaGcoTPN3lGXTpnWuWMR_-chOeFx9PvivEhOae-KKhw-p-dCHIfEOXtD61VsYUcECnQmFy0E2xZTh_Cy45kPAVwxjVx-ru2pi-tTxJ7v7MpPufZMMEN3bISgS6ah8els8uwWjDYizksw4/s1641/aaaaa11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1641" data-original-width="1171" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrrUnAl_oI2IP1AM2cuIAAaQ_3z6vEwwfHhzQ7e-0JWrKJ5RXQaGcoTPN3lGXTpnWuWMR_-chOeFx9PvivEhOae-KKhw-p-dCHIfEOXtD61VsYUcECnQmFy0E2xZTh_Cy45kPAVwxjVx-ru2pi-tTxJ7v7MpPufZMMEN3bISgS6ah8els8uwWjDYizksw4/w285-h400/aaaaa11.jpg" width="285" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ya Comin'?<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><b><br />What I try to tell my kids</b><p></p><p><b>what I wish I could tell myself, is this:</b></p><p><i>pay attention to the glimmers where you feel most free t</i><i>o be</i></p><p><i>where you draw yourself in, what you're doing when</i></p><p><i>you forget the day the week the planet and just do it</i></p><p><i>the thing you're doing - that's it, that's something</i></p><p><i>you can learn to see</i></p><p><i>like a formula or constellation</i></p><p><i>build your life around them </i></p><p><i>center them and focus from that hub</i></p><p><i>learn the landscape of others on your hunt</i></p><p><i>don't be deterred because you can't see what job will own you</i></p><p><i>don't be deterred when doubted by your friends</i></p><p><i>don't be deterred by skipping </i><i>common milestones </i></p><p><i>don't be deterred because you can't see around the bend</i></p><p><i>just centre what calls you, what you melt into, what feels like purpose</i></p><p><i>get curious, play, learn the soft edges and sharp curves </i></p><p><i>imbibe what it takes to embolden your nerve</i></p><p><i>find and learn the tools that let you shape and express back</i></p><p><i>into the world. </i></p><p><i>and if you can avoid the longing for things you might never have wanted if you knew what it cost to get them</i></p><p><i>and focus on staying with what matters to your heart</i></p><p><i>a living will follow the art you inevitably build through </i></p><p><i>focus and </i></p><p><i>practice and </i></p><p><i>pure curious intent</i></p><p><i>a living as secure as, and maybe more secure than, an eroding traditional path</i></p><p><i>and a life, oh, a life that's full of what you love most, most of the time;</i></p><p><i>if you must strive, stri</i><i>ve for sublime.</i></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-47095850804961183632023-08-11T16:08:00.007-07:002023-08-12T21:26:39.542-07:00An Open Letter to Michelle Visage <p>Dear Pretty Lady,</p><p>In all the hype you are probably one of the smaller parts of the Drag Race machine but for me, from the first moment, you're the biggest. I love you because I found you so weirdly pretentiously annoying until, like a veil lifted, I saw you DOING you, and you do you so precisely. I love you because you go from inscrutably icy to suddenly vulnerable and back again in a blink, so quick most people probably miss it and have no idea why they love you. I love you because you are blunt and scary but not scary because you are never, never unkind, and your words are gifts you give even when it's hard. But mostly I love you because from the moment I saw you I thought I saw HER again, my best-friend-on-our-way-back-again, until she died from a deadly combination of bipolar and the patriarchy's hatred for "the crazy bitch." She's been gone for two years and I still don't believe she left me here. But now, there's you - the way you hold your mouth, your brash vulgarity, your gorgeously knowing how gorgeous you are, your next-to-brutal honesty that feels like a rough caress, your several laughs, your bold gestures, your affection, your flattered smile. You embody so much of what made her, her. You conjure her. You help me conjure her back, for a moment, as if she made it to where she could have been, if only, just where you are. </p><p>Thank you for showing up out loud, and giving me a taste of who you are that wafts a scent of her my way. I painted a painting for you, if you want, I hope you're one of the 8000 people in the world who might like it. I think she would have gotten it too. </p><p>with love and gratitude. </p><p>CAI</p><p><br /></p><p>CM Simard 1971-2021</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7Nx81MyiHi5gOWP9YHOJ1-jHBmTcirEFEviiIAHUd16Ntlxssn4luLAprZnvcq2y2hNUNpsdGDx-2PW7m41QQe4VANJJEuXgPOM3yZVNEXx2YJBXEmb2EvCbQXJRlMdLWyTofuNqrAApLbKCeWWN4ZnbVNxWjlKhrtJnSWsyLDo2VaRDqE4UMfO7cJ9p/s800/christy'.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="642" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7Nx81MyiHi5gOWP9YHOJ1-jHBmTcirEFEviiIAHUd16Ntlxssn4luLAprZnvcq2y2hNUNpsdGDx-2PW7m41QQe4VANJJEuXgPOM3yZVNEXx2YJBXEmb2EvCbQXJRlMdLWyTofuNqrAApLbKCeWWN4ZnbVNxWjlKhrtJnSWsyLDo2VaRDqE4UMfO7cJ9p/s320/christy'.JPG" width="257" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-8896408676454244672023-08-09T07:49:00.005-07:002023-08-12T13:37:16.361-07:00Just be logical<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQV7D4GP20feVWkS5bOV_BRVE5Qq6wIN7jrpzIH15IsyTjYqfnWAyKQtVIfOn4dKXGvey10-aQdKud-4A7931MnMun3C4xcJMh2SXKs1ML_jgGa8N-05aNuSyfdCyBDWhNT7IqKTKY-7UotJOdcSC76i4VVclOnJvpiSbhxvXuK6Z45tc7rdGsMBGVOaMn/s6000/IMGP1709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6000" data-original-width="4000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQV7D4GP20feVWkS5bOV_BRVE5Qq6wIN7jrpzIH15IsyTjYqfnWAyKQtVIfOn4dKXGvey10-aQdKud-4A7931MnMun3C4xcJMh2SXKs1ML_jgGa8N-05aNuSyfdCyBDWhNT7IqKTKY-7UotJOdcSC76i4VVclOnJvpiSbhxvXuK6Z45tc7rdGsMBGVOaMn/s320/IMGP1709.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Inbetween (CAI)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />If you just look at it logically, leaving feelings aside - </p><p>leaving feelings aside? </p><p>just look at the ground, ignore the sky?</p><p>Feelings are a huge part of who we are. Separating from our instincts, looking only at logic and not valuing the information of feeling, is what prevented us from making decisions that would benefit all life on the planet at every step through every generation that tried it, to the tip of destruction, yet we still worship at the alter of logic, or instead, ignore logic to worship at the alter of feelings; either way we fail fail fail fail to see the ground and the sky and EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN WHICH IS WHERE WE LIVE. </p><p>But then, I see it, so you see it, so everyone sees it and still here in the inbetween we are told look up or look down but don't see what's in front of our eyes. </p><p>It's time to take the gun out of life - Badly Drawn Boy https://youtu.be/qYdLoCt3tRs</p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-64931317495876002023-08-07T12:03:00.002-07:002023-08-07T12:03:56.511-07:00Helping Hands<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4r6VuQk7aSvFIChEz6IaD9k8J5KL6P3WiG6OLDUq75RS75bOK1GMGUS-TbmmiFxT3xJEsOyhYNs-9G9A7LeREUpeBrYSeRxNmQaI_CxIxE2HdcvwXA2Njky64QwothBU5WTJzt3oZVl1FdDXCBF7x0wFXC5iZUezGChCSSyIVo3Bk4c52ST5GbjHZkcba/s566/CAI_a_person_caught_inside_of_a_spiderweb_of_their_own_thoughts_39d68373-98aa-4f00-9f95-48f2f51934d3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="566" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4r6VuQk7aSvFIChEz6IaD9k8J5KL6P3WiG6OLDUq75RS75bOK1GMGUS-TbmmiFxT3xJEsOyhYNs-9G9A7LeREUpeBrYSeRxNmQaI_CxIxE2HdcvwXA2Njky64QwothBU5WTJzt3oZVl1FdDXCBF7x0wFXC5iZUezGChCSSyIVo3Bk4c52ST5GbjHZkcba/s320/CAI_a_person_caught_inside_of_a_spiderweb_of_their_own_thoughts_39d68373-98aa-4f00-9f95-48f2f51934d3.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Help Yourself (CAI with Midjourney 2023)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />When a person offers help it's natural they</p><p>imagine they know what will help;</p><p>imagine what the person receiving help will feel when they are properly</p><p>grateful </p><p>and from that deceiving entitlement</p><p>to a nebulous outcome they may feel</p><p>terribly affronted</p><p>by any deviant end to their well-intentioned, oh-so-generous</p><p>help.</p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-38089804397003495142023-07-31T09:18:00.003-07:002023-07-31T09:18:30.405-07:00You have so much potential!<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqvmC0eD65TX94kvX0dc37eVsc9wJCPcxesN4Xd5OCaEflMfxpyo3B7aA-ZFLxX2sTZ0lAWMsz7LjkezDMmXwgzjjuHX_NIYkuzZudhHlvQKOSm6hsHbYXnjw6M02oq5Ss6snpytS0kbjs4zPb8Xg4KgcEJku5DhdvZc3ErIKG8nflubV7_Kd1uS8NTfO/s2719/raw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2719" data-original-width="1290" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqvmC0eD65TX94kvX0dc37eVsc9wJCPcxesN4Xd5OCaEflMfxpyo3B7aA-ZFLxX2sTZ0lAWMsz7LjkezDMmXwgzjjuHX_NIYkuzZudhHlvQKOSm6hsHbYXnjw6M02oq5Ss6snpytS0kbjs4zPb8Xg4KgcEJku5DhdvZc3ErIKG8nflubV7_Kd1uS8NTfO/s320/raw.jpg" width="152" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raw Potential (CAI 2023)<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Why not tap into your greatness?</p><p>What do you fear?</p><p>That's clear. I am afraid</p><p>that opening myself to what's in me</p><p>will break my heart with impossibility</p><p>rendering life an intolerable </p><p>mundanity </p><p>the resulting explosion maiming all those around me</p><p>leaving them broken; leaving me </p><p>with nothing at all.</p><p>It's not small, this fear</p><p>It's not nothing and it doesn't lie</p><p>I know all too well how truly committing to I</p><p>explodes the world. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaM-CbVQD6DSSldahjnel29JnIOR9JqlmQ62K3Zv435IEWxq_o_SKaVa7a1ZAyYyzb2HJLflvCKMGobczsCtoWBzudaVE-vJu4L9ZU6ccOm-bZ0owEZ2HXzPG_VzJc0VjxDtqeR17IluhBAMFHykrnRdT3JCtkSoBKdRJg6_2t8un-eGi9Ay6PDZ5iI6R/s5845/IMGP2389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3948" data-original-width="5845" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaM-CbVQD6DSSldahjnel29JnIOR9JqlmQ62K3Zv435IEWxq_o_SKaVa7a1ZAyYyzb2HJLflvCKMGobczsCtoWBzudaVE-vJu4L9ZU6ccOm-bZ0owEZ2HXzPG_VzJc0VjxDtqeR17IluhBAMFHykrnRdT3JCtkSoBKdRJg6_2t8un-eGi9Ay6PDZ5iI6R/s320/IMGP2389.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wretches Gone Awry (CAI 2021)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>(ps. potential has a shelf life - CAI)</p><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-20700816309995703562023-07-11T14:58:00.002-07:002023-07-12T18:27:51.723-07:00An Open Letter to Martha Wainwright<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0_tL3AHvkQ313-pBLThoqK6tbnqZEZXYrNvHKSAE_bs34qodBj6LGrwje1QvGHz37R0atXrhoUdss4SEIYSDIs0uLChTZZi3lxzJEh0F35h6TzmnsLkO9D8tCVGOqrqge0i6-ZSeYwStkocHROqbclgw6QejQUYD0rEq5d7xT_9jFZ96fw0JhdrL0mdaw/s4080/20230709_150204.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3060" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0_tL3AHvkQ313-pBLThoqK6tbnqZEZXYrNvHKSAE_bs34qodBj6LGrwje1QvGHz37R0atXrhoUdss4SEIYSDIs0uLChTZZi3lxzJEh0F35h6TzmnsLkO9D8tCVGOqrqge0i6-ZSeYwStkocHROqbclgw6QejQUYD0rEq5d7xT_9jFZ96fw0JhdrL0mdaw/s320/20230709_150204.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martha Wainwright, 2023 Northern Lights Festival<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Dear Martha,</p>I keep thinking about how I let myself not meet you, and now we never met. <p></p><p>How I didn't consider that meeting me wasn't just for me, it was for you, too. That if I had nothing else to give I could have given you my stone</p><p>that my heart-sister brought from Vancouver Island when she improbably came to renew me, the stone</p><p>that I carried when I travelled alone for the first time since<br /> my body failed me, no cane, triumphant to the heart of America where I swore I wouldn't go</p><p>to attend a show that I thought would never happen, the stone</p><p>that I gripped when the airplane stifled, the stone</p><p>that I held warming in my hand through Happy's every song, gift after gift, my tears streaming I never thought I would see her live her music changed me and still unlocks my soul, holding the stone</p><p>that I thought I had lost at the airport</p><p>but found again at the bottom of the bag that holds my horizon and grounds me home;</p><p>and you probably wouldn't have thought I was some deranged stranger handing you a rock from the ground and wanting it to be special</p><p>you probably would have understood that I was giving you a thousand songs</p><p>and the heart of my musical heart</p><p>you probably would have been very glad to meet me, after all. </p><p>But I held that back from you. I played small. </p><p>Twenty feet away and I let myself be washed out with the crowd into the mundane nextness of the day after you sang your soul away to a mediocre crowd with your family and your wholeness and even still I didn't make myself known, I didn't offer you my service or my smile</p><p>I thought I was shy but I was nervous and playing myself like a quiet instrument that doesn't deserve to be heard </p><p>by someone who has made themselves you. You. As if Me is no one at all. </p><p>It's my habit, to seem small, nothing special, pre-empt the presumption I'm not worth the time I'm taking. </p><p>Still, and all</p><p>I want a second chance to let you know me, take what is here in me that's for you, to agree that I can be of value too, to you, as you have been to me. Your music and movement set something free. Maybe something in me could have done that for you, if I'd stepped up, come through, if I'd passed the test, been there for you</p><p>who knows but even so, I want to give you my stone </p><p>that stone, and my promise that you are not alone</p><p>while I'm here. </p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-81701227229601031622023-06-25T07:39:00.003-07:002023-06-25T16:11:47.635-07:00Prepared <p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0Z30SaQ63zI3S4eNigofUohiOU6sDSoPRa1iJpVDt-J0l4b8uc-7zrzmYPHXa_qZzc_TaWoaorc_ifWm1xDn3_KLaGm3GKo25x-OIaUmSgFVgA6-0atJEaxEmuGOMx8oMmqFypYCFm4Fj95tOnsvYpij2pt9pwy2m3S2qpzk7xInLW5kWY6aOXdCW0pW/s1024/CAI_side_view_a_woman_waist-high_in_water_in_a_lake_struggling__716f5538-7339-43c6-be63-2487d86df26c.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0Z30SaQ63zI3S4eNigofUohiOU6sDSoPRa1iJpVDt-J0l4b8uc-7zrzmYPHXa_qZzc_TaWoaorc_ifWm1xDn3_KLaGm3GKo25x-OIaUmSgFVgA6-0atJEaxEmuGOMx8oMmqFypYCFm4Fj95tOnsvYpij2pt9pwy2m3S2qpzk7xInLW5kWY6aOXdCW0pW/s320/CAI_side_view_a_woman_waist-high_in_water_in_a_lake_struggling__716f5538-7339-43c6-be63-2487d86df26c.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running through Life (CAI & Midjourney, 2023)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><p>To say I walked into the world unprepared</p><p>would assume there was a way to prepare me</p><p>to prevent me from mistaking me</p><p>for human</p><p>from expecting me to be like them, and </p><p>- the true blind side -</p><p>expecting them to be like me;</p><p>that there might have been a way for me </p><p>to hide; </p><p>to spare me </p><p>from reducing me to please;</p><p>from pulling my skin to pieces trying to make it fit better</p><p>for the ease and comfort of literally</p><p>anyone else but me;</p><p>that I could have been more ready to face them</p><p>to face me, even thrive if I'd gone in expecting</p><p>knowing and prepared, to be</p><p>an alien in human skin</p><p>playing to stay alive,</p><p>trying to have some fun</p><p>a million to one.</p><p>(Listen to Happy Rhodes: <a href="https://youtu.be/LGaoQB9ztDA">One Alien</a> )</p><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-72387895950777327262023-06-07T09:58:00.003-07:002023-06-07T09:58:54.346-07:00Stepping carefully<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg722A4EEfk1TaTt2A_rXEp-0NSWnkPlY4_8Qsousxq8Hk11s4wuhuftbHWyPIk_2gFGoGxCxVe1HNe4aSjcGizkA0YRlO0A-UKZJBX3y9GSt6EWxz8CUcc89iqz6-u4JsDgjFtlMlysfIsmZjW3nd-5Aso-J0WgnKlutY06iwMQcq1BAepE3Xr1ZcYhA/s1746/20230607_125342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1478" data-original-width="1746" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg722A4EEfk1TaTt2A_rXEp-0NSWnkPlY4_8Qsousxq8Hk11s4wuhuftbHWyPIk_2gFGoGxCxVe1HNe4aSjcGizkA0YRlO0A-UKZJBX3y9GSt6EWxz8CUcc89iqz6-u4JsDgjFtlMlysfIsmZjW3nd-5Aso-J0WgnKlutY06iwMQcq1BAepE3Xr1ZcYhA/s320/20230607_125342.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch where you step!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In the field my giant feet wreak havoc</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">each step trampling more unseen life than I can count</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">be accountable to</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">accountable for</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">more than I could ever pay</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">back.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">So I give more care in how I go</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">place heel to toe, nice and slow</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">apologizing as I go</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">giving everyone plenty of time</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">to get out of my way.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">And, hey, isn’t that just how I live?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">I’d sure love to play </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">in your meadows</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">running roughshod with the glee of being me</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">with you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">but I’d trample your tender wings before you even had a chance to fly</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">so I try to be careful</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I try.</span></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-60030497990157561512023-05-26T10:29:00.001-07:002023-05-26T10:34:31.432-07:00In case you wondered what the hell they're thinkingPeople are animals with a temperament to match so we shouldn't be surprised that they behave in ways we don't like. However, there is the expectation of those engaged in the "civil societies" of humanity that we learn, develop, grow, strengthen, and exercise a certain level of self-control, of restraint, to maintain peaceful co-existence. Some people really resent that expectation. They see any request about learning or strengthening or growing their self-discipline as a direct attack on their humanity and their preference that they be allowed to react and behave just as they feel, authentically, in line with their temperaments. It feels like an attack on self to be asked to hold oneself in check. They already resent that they are expected to be polite to the bumbling cashier, not shout at the annoying children, choose more careful words when addressing some people, put aside their distaste for others and act like everyone is equal. When they do begrudgingly try to conform to the constrictions of "civil society" they are told it's not enough, more is required, ongoing learning and developing and growth and exercise, more restraint across more categories. They feel overwhelmed, attacked, unvalued, and afraid, because if they can't live up to the required level of "civility" that keeps shifting and moving further from comfort, they may face social consequences, and we are trapped in the social systems in which we live without alternative, with those systems increasingly controlling and starving us. So they go on the attack. They demand their right to be just as they are, human in temperament, and act just how they feel, and be accepted without any work or modification on their part to accommodate people whom, when they are truly honest about it, they don't really care about and in fact, disdain for needing "special treatment" and resent for highlighting yet another way that civil society can demand a constriction and a growth. So they forget, in all that, who they really are, what love looks and feel like in their hearts, and empathy is banished unless it applies to them and their own. And from that context they believe and act in the only ways that make sense in that context, and cling to that context because it encompasses their identity, now, and is required to allow them to feel okay. <div><br /></div><div>But people do better when they are not in scarcity and fear. That is what needs to be tackled first. <br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-19603888251086706672023-05-25T21:26:00.001-07:002023-05-25T21:26:31.234-07:00Right Here<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUEUanzxjmGeqkRCSfO6-9FKZP4SphVTupvuAXDS26QuQaiKXZLu7N4he_f3bF62fp9w9T0Uu_stFbY7UJiy8M_Yqn-52HAL-mpdK6dxDwLjGZWR9sFWxYwCXsrD8ldpOpZcWuN9HPBvFyhTra-zSlC0CvoUHJPILYIrVNcYz-9hy1TI2Qs9ox9ifyfA/s1024/CAI_a_cluster_of_coloured_spheres_whirling_together_as_a_single_0362f198-65e5-415b-b67b-916153da7789.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUEUanzxjmGeqkRCSfO6-9FKZP4SphVTupvuAXDS26QuQaiKXZLu7N4he_f3bF62fp9w9T0Uu_stFbY7UJiy8M_Yqn-52HAL-mpdK6dxDwLjGZWR9sFWxYwCXsrD8ldpOpZcWuN9HPBvFyhTra-zSlC0CvoUHJPILYIrVNcYz-9hy1TI2Qs9ox9ifyfA/s320/CAI_a_cluster_of_coloured_spheres_whirling_together_as_a_single_0362f198-65e5-415b-b67b-916153da7789.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CAI (a self-portrait with Midjourney)</td></tr></tbody></table><br />S<span style="font-size: 17px;">o much of love is proximity</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 17px;">would you love me</span></p>
<span style="font-size: 17px;">if I were closer</span><br /><span style="font-size: 17px;">if I were right there</span><br /><span style="font-size: 17px;">would you care to know </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">me deeply truly madly as I am?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Would you see what no one sees and </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">BAM! </span><br /><span style="font-size: 17px;">be mine?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Or pass me by as too familiar</span><br /><span style="font-size: 17px;">not quite special</span><br /><span style="font-size: 17px;">c</span><span style="font-size: 17px;">lose to home?</span><div>
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Is it me or opportunity that keeps us</span><span> </span><span style="font-size: 17px;">so unknown when we both contain the multitudes of being in our bones and it's calling calling calling us to join hands and walk home</span><div><div><span style="font-size: 17px;">together?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">What if I were right there?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Would you love me then?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Here I am. </span><!--/data/user/0/com.samsung.android.app.notes/files/clipdata/clipdata_bodytext_230526_001858_458.sdocx--></div></div></div>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-20598118682645036102023-04-15T18:35:00.003-07:002023-04-15T18:35:22.925-07:00Too much<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWVO32aWPukkZUBsAOkn_7b5xVGczRP9eFjoBDNEAQGARUiQrCQEl3IZVg2PrpzX2juNEhBCBn3DOMJMkBm7MS8g6cWatsJqvK7vu-hLhj5HXJgqrG8hCNFjcqjDCitirljLp3rh-bdz9GsIXxPPkjcf-AAS0ASuUGznhpHyeUO0opE1ww5_QFX3NtA/s1024/CAI_What_is_the_spiritual_formula_what_is_the_chant_or_dance_or_375027b1-fb2b-4c8c-8fbf-f3b07334e9cb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWVO32aWPukkZUBsAOkn_7b5xVGczRP9eFjoBDNEAQGARUiQrCQEl3IZVg2PrpzX2juNEhBCBn3DOMJMkBm7MS8g6cWatsJqvK7vu-hLhj5HXJgqrG8hCNFjcqjDCitirljLp3rh-bdz9GsIXxPPkjcf-AAS0ASuUGznhpHyeUO0opE1ww5_QFX3NtA/s320/CAI_What_is_the_spiritual_formula_what_is_the_chant_or_dance_or_375027b1-fb2b-4c8c-8fbf-f3b07334e9cb.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>Filled past full, overflowing a dance between nothing and over the top, a constant ensmalling, perpetual dousing, ongoing constricting, trying so hard to be enough but not ever please never </p><p>too much</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p> <p></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-62716806083182702352023-02-06T06:48:00.005-08:002023-02-06T09:12:39.759-08:00Pretty enough<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqcfSizTn8HxWiIM505AaOfknSVEjsPZXyeehHfOEUPYDo4e7I652RX1Zrijoy-70I0i-1R9ID1VU8hO5HT1LcItIAOpHA6UxvMIlp7ep2gCpMflkMMEeQCgeGYYbrxzyinoD5I6CU0Etb4JOsqq1urmpcXaaZkHeyS3gi53m0o8ppG6lTQJ52wkMbw/s1024/CAI_abstract_looking_in_the_mirror_to_see_my_true_self_614747fe-da05-4a78-bbb2-eb6d7a1d34b2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqcfSizTn8HxWiIM505AaOfknSVEjsPZXyeehHfOEUPYDo4e7I652RX1Zrijoy-70I0i-1R9ID1VU8hO5HT1LcItIAOpHA6UxvMIlp7ep2gCpMflkMMEeQCgeGYYbrxzyinoD5I6CU0Etb4JOsqq1urmpcXaaZkHeyS3gi53m0o8ppG6lTQJ52wkMbw/s320/CAI_abstract_looking_in_the_mirror_to_see_my_true_self_614747fe-da05-4a78-bbb2-eb6d7a1d34b2.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Mirror (CAI with Midjourney)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />The body I got is a middling model, nothing special. Normal. Pretty enough to stand out in a room with only a few pretty girls, but overlookable if there's a beauty or two around. Prettier than plain. So I spent the first half of my life feeling average, not unattractive but nothing special, imperfect in unattractive ways, while at the same time, finding out I was still pretty enough to attract the unexpected and unwanted attention of Men. Not the prettiest girl in the room, but maybe the prettiest one he thinks he can get somewhere with. Or, a colleague who suddenly notices I'm prettier than he thought, and changes how he sees me to sexualize me. I felt like hiding whatever beauty I did have, so it wouldn't be dangerous, while simultaneously wishing to feel desirable, beautiful, attracted to. Being young really sucked my life force in so many ways in a woman's body.<p></p><p>Now I am not young, not pretty. I'm beautiful in a way that shocks me in the mirror. Not because I am more beautiful now than I was, when I was young and pretty enough, but because I am better at seeing beauty, my beauty. Better than most people. I can see it, now. I'm startling to myself. I see myself like I see a photograph - the humanity, the unique structure, the expression. My eyes meet my eyes. </p><p>Maybe I feel the safety of the cloak of age and imperfection - for most men, I have strayed beyond comparisons of female beauty or sexualization into a neutered territory of aunt, teacher, "older lady." Maybe I am not as afraid to be "maturely beautiful" as I was to be pretty, because I know most people won't even see me at all. </p><p>Maybe I just stopped feeling like other people's opinions had any relevance at some point. Maybe I shifted my standards, shifted my view from my deviations from the beauty standard to just seeing what's there. And what's there is more than enough. </p><p>Pretty enough for me. </p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-13146811500654598632023-02-06T06:25:00.000-08:002023-02-06T06:25:29.094-08:00<p>The Universal desperately wants to know itself through life. That's the purpose of life. As me, as you, as them, as grass, as molecules, as bacteria, as dogs. Desperate isn't the right word - passionately? encompassingly? yearningly? The Universal is being itself. We are cells in that body. </p><p>The Universal takes joy in knowing itself by being. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbnEe7MeNsPL38QWLzsR0ETOHiVkbtAR05HR_PwGD2NvRjmRv1PbGqxvvRsHNG0SaaqZjjkiGtjgASfSrJMX_dsxZH4vwRJ88DXYPl821EFWjHt_IOvPza5pz3E6Q-ttjuWPGOU2qqB9yR_leIRUPfcD49CIE-Ja5gxACXTzjpBSkotNT3xsdmGl2uBA/s1024/the%20universal.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbnEe7MeNsPL38QWLzsR0ETOHiVkbtAR05HR_PwGD2NvRjmRv1PbGqxvvRsHNG0SaaqZjjkiGtjgASfSrJMX_dsxZH4vwRJ88DXYPl821EFWjHt_IOvPza5pz3E6Q-ttjuWPGOU2qqB9yR_leIRUPfcD49CIE-Ja5gxACXTzjpBSkotNT3xsdmGl2uBA/s320/the%20universal.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Universal takes joy in knowing itself by being<br />from Midjourney</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Earth is a tender morsel, a tiny delight that fills the mouth.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-61629138873583449872022-10-12T12:47:00.005-07:002022-10-12T12:48:26.382-07:00god knows<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNatQ-HNNfTeRzmAxPQpCHulG4A3guu945pVQyDOIqUcGIrru7c4AFJuyssmQq_0mLNfoWGjxmBbztOq040xb5BDSWm88MjLGprlsCyxb3QOMJvZhLjTJJ9gQVVPMbMbIxIAWpvVDm0y5YLXBSdfK_-O5UprVRz0qDBCrlO0Hr4sHtpWmAFNhqQlZTdg/s1024/CAI_bone_and_muscle_water_and_carbon_54454747-16a2-4e9c-80d3-2b0b5cb356e3.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNatQ-HNNfTeRzmAxPQpCHulG4A3guu945pVQyDOIqUcGIrru7c4AFJuyssmQq_0mLNfoWGjxmBbztOq040xb5BDSWm88MjLGprlsCyxb3QOMJvZhLjTJJ9gQVVPMbMbIxIAWpvVDm0y5YLXBSdfK_-O5UprVRz0qDBCrlO0Hr4sHtpWmAFNhqQlZTdg/s320/CAI_bone_and_muscle_water_and_carbon_54454747-16a2-4e9c-80d3-2b0b5cb356e3.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Inside - from Midjourney AI)</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />You are meat and bone and sinew, tenuous</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">tenacious glued</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;"> parts and pieces</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">receiving direction</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">from god knows where</span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 28pt; font-weight: 700; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-dea5b31e-7fff-e6f7-0432-c9ccd0578517"><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 28pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-46721635790218208772022-10-07T06:24:00.005-07:002022-10-07T06:25:28.792-07:00Spending time<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg124fg6yVtpWG9lOr4kur_b-gABLc8nOEo1_8XitYRpIpk5SeQsuUdBU6bgTmZZd7dKCFX0Ce3wavXMWbRlzlmKDfFyG97uZRLpVZo08Er2Xo946k0IlJO17j6oKHJ1KGmKz5WTsPYJ9PgLqcD-uNiAWtCcGEUGrk5KzoiM3T0ddQYLzgz2Tlk6aMhzQ/s1024/CAI_a_million_nos_dont_add_up_to_a_yes_a_single_yes_shines_a_li_e9d74b83-703b-4d38-9df3-04c55036c64e.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg124fg6yVtpWG9lOr4kur_b-gABLc8nOEo1_8XitYRpIpk5SeQsuUdBU6bgTmZZd7dKCFX0Ce3wavXMWbRlzlmKDfFyG97uZRLpVZo08Er2Xo946k0IlJO17j6oKHJ1KGmKz5WTsPYJ9PgLqcD-uNiAWtCcGEUGrk5KzoiM3T0ddQYLzgz2Tlk6aMhzQ/s320/CAI_a_million_nos_dont_add_up_to_a_yes_a_single_yes_shines_a_li_e9d74b83-703b-4d38-9df3-04c55036c64e.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time contains a life (CAI with Midjourney AI)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">Time is the only currency of our lives</p><p style="text-align: center;">one of the only things we spend </p><p style="text-align: center;">without knowing how much we have. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1343461526002401643.post-49908771319363069102022-10-04T09:30:00.003-07:002022-10-05T09:30:20.304-07:00Ordinary Magic (A Maverick Missive)<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix130tmbUZlVLIxRCQVqBRG1jAC1-bExQqVIC1FLqdlL8Yf0Emp-ELPCdbw9OjmQC3ExyFkRvZBKqB2Xg5vBzmZbSx348fz_XlpF4e40dBu6oS_-ywVJaVHr2M-20zUl8FTYfau_gV-1_fH44ewPVN6tN0J0BqB-Gs-1tkdVmFGG5doA6iAVp11mvtDg/s901/another%20fungus1.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="901" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix130tmbUZlVLIxRCQVqBRG1jAC1-bExQqVIC1FLqdlL8Yf0Emp-ELPCdbw9OjmQC3ExyFkRvZBKqB2Xg5vBzmZbSx348fz_XlpF4e40dBu6oS_-ywVJaVHr2M-20zUl8FTYfau_gV-1_fH44ewPVN6tN0J0BqB-Gs-1tkdVmFGG5doA6iAVp11mvtDg/s320/another%20fungus1.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lacey Decorations (CAI)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> He asks me, <p></p><p><br /></p><p>is this world's ordinary not extraordinary enough</p><p>for you?</p><p>how would one miracle more be a cure for your incessant longing?</p><p><br /></p><p>it's true,</p><p>but in that sneery way he has of always being right</p><p>so right away I turn away</p><p>unwilling to quite accept his flayed refrain</p><p>its insult contained in the idea that I could </p><p>- like taking some kind of potion -</p><p>that I should</p><p>twist my heart and mind and notions</p><p>refine myself until I feel</p><p>- actually feel - </p><p>complete and joyously ecstatic, </p><p>bearing witness</p><p>to only ordinary magic. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-fM0zKTL_Bmys8mD0FC2WjbVEunT7NpKIodNrsGGAwhgOomf6CfEgFk1DkUYeZZQiFkoKyEF3jalUyy8_lDuEpCumBmeUTLHQSfZcrUEFflNqETesvi1jGig_oSsybkSINdQSG9KltEw5Jr7UwjbJHSVTYfcYIEF_jE5CcJwHHGlwu2lRj51oJPTHQ/s1825/another%20fungus3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="1825" height="71" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb-fM0zKTL_Bmys8mD0FC2WjbVEunT7NpKIodNrsGGAwhgOomf6CfEgFk1DkUYeZZQiFkoKyEF3jalUyy8_lDuEpCumBmeUTLHQSfZcrUEFflNqETesvi1jGig_oSsybkSINdQSG9KltEw5Jr7UwjbJHSVTYfcYIEF_jE5CcJwHHGlwu2lRj51oJPTHQ/w129-h71/another%20fungus3.png" width="129" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZ8k-RjoSYiflQw8GTETKDxs-BM1yG2RboT2sQmbJp3gYjtzYw9-aBB_bLTfZoryb2lFbmvpgobyh0C46kWe3ulEIXTYw0C5RzcbeUv38k_ALQTkCUvRKje4M_VLvvEGZB65ArZVPHV67AuL7wffZ8WDQ56ZsO6gUpVNiFvvaIflQRnPQOWAMQqKTdQ/s1649/another%20fungus2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1001" data-original-width="1805" height="73" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvQ-Gma7fCkmreweqKbah-yE35zkohoHkuZPNh09nKb3xEwFITSqWrhT8DZ1G41qj_hLik26blOVoeTAIIteV9zQP1xdblO7xVDka8EOSNU0jZYNH7JlLG_gZSzmO-m7EsEbTwSlPhkOp9DvrBO7dfXzV1ikQ9seeinByp3YVTK1bYk_aavyghiAU3A/w132-h73/another%20fungus5.png" width="132" /></a></div><p></p><br />CAI (@MrsWhich)http://www.blogger.com/profile/06832649579274047097noreply@blogger.com