Thursday, March 19, 2009

Security: Analysis

An internal investigation of security, what represents it to me and why, then a 'wounded' image of the same thing and why/how that security could be or has been an illusion. I did the background on Tuesday and the writing later that night, but this captures a lot of what I feel as a result of Natasha Richardson's sudden, shocking death (& numerous others).

writing says:
strong image:"Not the size, not the grandeur of facade or furnishings, but the existing of a "my space" place. As a nest, as a haven for dropping my 'out there' postures & play-nice politics ... I need the security of such a place as balance, a grounding & launching pad (both) for my emotionally, intellectually, spiritually & artistically nomadic soul. Mental journeys sometimes create a stress & disorientation level every bit as real as those physical. Jet lag takes the form of habit bumping reluctantly along behind the awareness & pursuit of change, like overweight baggage. For me, the assimilation of my processes takes place during my down time away from the journal & studio -- while mopping, folding clothes, washing dishes, taking out trash, purging closets, cleaning the litter box. Basic & necessary physical tasks that occupy one part of my mind but leave another to its own pondering devices. This is when I have the most AHA moments. This is also why I have paper & pens in every room of the house, like some people have TVs or boxes of tissue. routine chores also replenish my muse, give her time to nap & go window-shopping & blow bubbles. wounded image:
I've moved so many times in my life that I hold no more illusions about the permanency of anything. Or anyone. Everything & everyone is on its own tidal path -- here now, so now is the time to be grateful, be aware, take full note, be in the present. People get laid off, move away, withdraw; jobs can't be relied on; money is a whole other illusion' homes, cars, clothes, stuff -- those are truly only things & maybe I'm lucky to have them now. But I don't consider them 'mine.' & no person is, no people are, 'mine.' No ownership, just gifts delivered to me. I would rather, always, lose all the things (big & small) & retain the people. If I lived on the street, this wounded house would look good to me. It's all in my perspective!


beth said...

you are brilliant !
love you !

Holly said...

It is always about well said. Happiness is a choice, not a condition.

Kelvin S. Mangundayao said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Kelvin S. Mangundayao said...

hi...! i love your blog so much... so colorful... and your posts are fantastic... thanks for sharing... it so nice to meet you and be part of your blog... Godspeed..keep safe... bless you all...!!!

ccna said...

Hey, you have a great blog here! I'm definitely going to bookmark you!

Cam@Journey Wildly said...

I second what Holly said. It IS all about perspective. And never the destination, because that is always changing too, it is always about the journey.

You gave me alot to think about with this post. I love it!!