Monday, May 24

Manhattan, Kansas

The Little Apple's evening sky.

Wednesday, May 19

Moving on

I threw out all of my paintings except the one I made for Ros, the 48x60 and the one Ash and I painted together. I have been told by a family member that she wants one of my paintings. I didn't have the heart to tell her I had destroyed them. I kind of wish I hadn't...and why did I? Because I didn't think they would 'go' anywhere in our house. Nor did I think they were very good pieces of work. I do wish I hadn't thrown them out and just given them to people that wanted them. Total bummer. Especially this one. Although the picture of it looks way better than the actual piece.

Sad day.

Friday, May 7


Searching for new toys for my camera...this is the only one I have.

emerging in the abstract

Addiction is addiction is addiction.

"Long term marijuana use disrupts memory and concentration..."

As much as I miss it, unfortunately this is true. It's been almost a year since...well, no that's a lie...about half a year since I smoked. I do remember how my behavior changed when I was 'under the influence'...I also remember how good it made food taste, how good sex felt, how amazing music sounded and how creative it inspired me to be. More still, the circle of friends associated with smoking are what I miss the most. I miss the letting go, as Melissa put it. And it is true, I do miss the zealous free spirit I once was. Assuming the form of an adult is no easy task but I am learning what is healthy to hold onto, and what is not. We must move with change or get pulled under by it's current.

I can no longer keep abreast that self I use to keep. The state of abstracted musing may have surpassed me once, but I shall not throw out my canvas.

Wednesday, April 28

a disconsolate time in place

Drowning myself in this book, in my journal and this blog

I know why, too.

I don't have to speculate

When I am missing like this,
disconnection is encapsulating

As the world hurries on, I feel stationary

I've tried my best
to leave

but inextricably, feeling persists
the pages turn,

Still, I am disconsolate

What will help this state of mind
I understand, I must change my thoughts-
but I miss them and that won't change.

Tuesday, April 27

A story

To those who are married, .. Not married .. and
soon to be married, I hope you will be touched with this story...


When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and
said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly.
Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know
what I was thinking. I want a divorce.. I raised the topic calmly.

She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly,

I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the
chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't
talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what
had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory
answer; she had lost my heart to Dew. I didn't love her anymore. I just
pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated
that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.

She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent
ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for
her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I
had said for I loved Dew so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of
me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a
kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several
weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something
at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell
asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Dew.

When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not
care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want
anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce.

She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a
life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a
month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to
recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.

She requested that everyday for the month's duration I carry her out of
our bedroom to the front door ever morning.. I thought she was going
crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd

I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions.. . She laughed loudly and
thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to
face the divorce, she said scornfully..

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was
explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we
both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy
in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to
the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in
my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell our son about
the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside
the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my
chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I
hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time.. I realized she
was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair
was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I
wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy
returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.

On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was
growing again. I didn't tell Dew about this. It became easier to carry
her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few
dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my
dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so
thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.

Suddenly it hit me... she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her
heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mum out.
To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an
essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer
and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I
might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms,
walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her
hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly;
it was just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held
her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I
held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked

I drove to office.... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the
door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind...I walked
upstairs. Dew opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I do not
want the divorce anymore.

She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead.. Do you have
a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I
won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I
didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each
other any more. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on
our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed
the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my
wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and
wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I
run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed - dead.

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a
relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the
bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot
give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse's friend
and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Do have a
real happy marriage!

Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they
were to success when they gave up.

Days can seem to grow mundane, unflavorful
and even though it sounds cliché, you never realize what
you have until it is gone. The mere thought of being without
Ashton brings tears to my eyes but I know one day, there will
only be one of us left. Nothing is permanent but our love is part of the universal love which is everlasting. Though hard to find in some, love is interwreathed in everyone. After all, energy is never lost, only transferred.


This morning I had a terrifying dream. I was being assaulted and beaten all through the night by different people. One man had just been let out of handcuffs and he immidiately attacked me with a box cutter. There were many other no face people who attacked me through the night. Why was I wandering with my 'friend' (who also had no face) through the city? In the dream, I was wondering if I should tell my husband about the attacks and how it would affect him psychologically. I woke up with an extreme feeling of unease. I have never experienced such terror in my waking life so I am curious as to where this came from. Maybe it's just because I watched Jennifers Body, last night before bed.

It's interesting how, the more you try to uncover your dream the more it dissipates.

Monday, April 26

forces of disintegration

Of the whole I think it is fair to say that as a society, we remain idly passive until dis-ease protests itself rather extremely. Of the psyche or of the physical body, are we not individulas of vulnerability? Humans need human contact, we need the most basic things linked with survival, but most importantly, understanding and empathy no matter the situation. Too often onlookers wait, temporize or even ignore serious matters in order to evade what might be a serious matter of which our ego is not accustomed. It then becomes easier to let the person being observed to suffer and wander in anguish and confusion. But is this the right thing to do? It would seem, intellectually that this would be the opposite of what the ego would want. When we help people we almost always feel a sense of accomplishment and an overal feeling of goodness. So why do so many individuals suffer so grievously? It is true, the number of people afflicted by depression, anxiety, personality disorders and the like, are contiually rising and affecting younger populations with each passing decade.
We need to dig down to the roots, the nitty gritty of what makes us who we are. We can easily describe what we look like or what wing of political preference we prefer but when it comes to self-analysis we come up short. Too often the populace simply cannot conjure up the words to do so. Why is this? It seems as if we are guarded against self reflection and the deep meaning behind each action. Of course, our ego will not allow itself to be damaged and will do anything necessary to prevent such happenings. Previous generations have done well to engrain into people that deep and thorough psychoanalysis will inevitably transmute into a sickness of the psyche, so it would be best to let and let live. This decision is just what enables such neuroses to exist and command our actions every day.
What is really causing disease of the mind is the lack of attention, the denial of self worth and self respect. Moreover, the guilt of the self weights heavy, disrupting judgments, altering self analysis and providing false evidence. All too often our judgments of our self are very wrong and misguided. We declare ourselves unworthy and from that basis we doom ourselves. Everyday people are not programmed to process and receive the abnormal that is so common in psychoneurosis.
We all have the capacity to change and once we change our thoughts, we will change how we feel. We have the tools, we just need to pay attention to the instructions.

Sunday, April 25

Another dream; pulling up in my grandma's driveway
wearing a suit and high heels.
Walking into her empty
house, feeling reneged of the past
yet an unflagging volition
of my current path.
My dreams herald, matters
of which I am still unsure.