soak it all in

sometimes i just feel a little "artsy." why does this have to be followed up by a clove cigarette and a glass of wine (or some other alcoholic beverage)? then i start pondering things... going over inspirations in my head, getting all insightful, phrases of poetry, bits of philosophy... etc. tonight i snuck outside w/a corona and a cig. i tried to fine tune my senses. listening. is that a bird? nope, more likely a frog. hurry up and get back inside. wow it's so quiet. look at all the stars up there. this street is so noisy. the electric hum in the background. how nice & peaceful when everyone's asleep. flash over to documentary i watched yesterday on portraiture and celebrated photographers. one photographer commented she didn't always catch the moment, but when we she was in the right location, she knew. she knew she was "there" -- at THE moment. then she phrased something that i know i try to capture in my scrapbooking or even in my own photography -- the subtleties. i appreciate the subtleties of the moment, the subtleties of the "daily grind." my life of a mom. the clutter which largely consists of everyone's little deposits of their own daily grind. my older daughter always leaves her shoes in the middle of the floor, closely followed by her socks. my other daughter always leaves her blue plastic folder on the dining room table, the coffee table, ... you just never know where. my son has toys everywhere. everywhere. leggos here and there. a car. a superhero mask. shoes are everywhere. again -- everywhere. oy vey. there's paper. daily newspapers and flyers. bills. mail. coupons. school notes. seems like i'm always re-locating piles of these papers. things i think as i'm cleaning? "wow, this is overwhelming." "sure, i could pick this up myself but would my kids be learning anything." "this is what takes up my day? THIS?!"

once in a while my thoughts flit into this mentality... that one day when my kids are ALL in school, i'll have more time alone when i can get all this stuff done, pursue other interests, take time to take care of myself. a little later, i berate my thinking and try to value the chaos of this moment. i say it's fleeting, but every once in a while i can actually grasp that. that my kids are all this age, all this little, all this emotional and needy just this once and that i should be grateful for it and really soak it all in.

It's Easier

I thought of all the drama of just being a girl. Seriously. I can vividly recall growing up in a California suburb in a group of five girls. Different days... no... let me correct that -- randomly it would be decided who was in and who was, well, left out. I SO vividly remember linking that experience to learning about excommunication in 7th grade. I remember thinking, "oooohhh, it's like that." Who would be leader? How was that decided? Probably something as easy to identify as inherent leadership abilities. Things a person is born to do.

When I became a mother I worried over the drama when I bore my second child. A second daughter. Oy vey! Two girls?! Here we go! Let the drama begin! I was raised the elder of only two children... the other being my brother. Brother. I could experience and/or witness "girly-drama" as a somewhat voluntary participant... not necessarily have to live with it in my face. On second thought, I guess I got a little "girly-drama" from having a mother... but that doesn't really compare does it? All the girls in the house say "uh uh."

My ramblings thus far lead me to my daily "deep thought" (more on that in a future blog). I've always played the peacekeeper in my house. I was raised that way from the beginning. I had a passionate, strong-willed, stubborn mother. She was from another culture to top it off where sometimes I wonder if all women from Guam aren't just this way... but I digress. Again.

As the peacekeeper, I would try to diffuse conflict of course, strive for "anticlimacticism", follow and obey all rules, be as "low maintenance" as I possibly could. Pair this with my Christian faith and I think I just always tried to explain a person's "shortcomings" (subject to public opinion). Most of the time I could simply say, "we have no idea what this person just walked away from, what upbringing or abuse this person could have suffered." Later this evolved to, "possible mental illness" or "disillusionment." This can grossly be categorized in the "different perspectives" category. Christianity alone dictates that we cannot judge anyone anyway, so that was always an alternative method as well.

In my life, whenever I caught a hint of "girly-drama" I would simply avoid it. I moved around enough in life to know what it felt like to be the object of ridicule. For that reason, I've come to wonder, why can't we all just take the easier way and just love? Truly, this is the easiest thing to do. If someone hurts me, I can just love in return.

It's noted in the Bible... "if someone slaps you, give them the other cheek" or something along those lines. Modernday societal values would call that low self esteem or being a "door mat." Would it be easier to seek conflict? Seek retribution? Would a person find true solace in revenge? Not likely.

What does giving love do for me? What does giving forgiveness do for me? It's a lighter load to carry. It's easier to overlook something or explain it away and move along. With more serious drama, then more love. Simple. Really. And to end with a cliche -- love really does conquer all.

finally! something new!

I've been searching and searching for something new to read. My good friend, and fellow reading fanatic turned me on to the Sookie Stackhouse novels. They're also being made into film -- isn't that handy?? They're the inspiration behind HBO's True Blood series.

I just watched Sean Penn's Into the Wild (another book I've been wanting to read). What an outstanding film. I worry in these biographical films if directors, writers... the whole film machine is taking too much license in their attempt at artistic license. This disrespects the actual life it documents. In that sense, I guess it would be then called a documentary... not so much FILM. But in this case, I believe, the director tried to stick so closely to the story. It turned out beautifully and was moving. Poignant. It's left me feeling melancholy, sure, but shouldn't it? This film got me introspective too, to the point where I felt like I needed to reread old journals and tie them together, find a theme, write something more comprehensive and with continuity and flow. I also felt like I should be documenting again in a journal. Then again, I AM scrapbooking -- the optimist's journal. Soooo pretty. Okay, off to bed.