I'm happy to report that I've gotten into the habit of playing DDR semi-daily. It feels good to get a workout, and I'm happy about the thought of getting into better shape. I've gotten to the point where I can start off on Standard, as long as I choose the easier songs, to get warmed up. I have to say, HVAM is every bit as good as it was back in the day, and it really stands out because it gives you a good stream, without a lot of tricks - just a steady, fast-paced workout. And, sweating feels so much better when you don't have clothes on that'll just get soaked and cling to your body. Bouncing around without support can be a little 'interesting', but I haven't found it to be a problem. Although, sometimes it can distract you and become quite a different kind of problem...
Yesterday the weather was relatively mild, which I think I mentioned in the last entry. I was expecting it to be warm, since the temperature was supposedly in the 50's, overnight, and my brother was sort of freaking out about how nice it was, but when I went out to investigate, all I felt was a rather chill breeze. It was nice, compared to the snowy weather we've been having, but not exactly 'comfortable', in my opinion. Which is a shame, because glancing out the blinds on the front door, I was actually getting an excited urge to try something I've never done before. Something very risky, but that I want to do really bad. It's simple, and there really shouldn't be any problem about it, but that's just not the way this society is. All I want to do is take a walk around the block without any clothes on. That's all.
Well, I thought the temperature might be a bit more bearable if I was a little warmed up, so I played DDR for awhile, and when I started getting hot, I felt the mood take me. I wasn't about to do the block thing, since right after thinking that, I saw a car pull into a driveway up the street, but instead, I grabbed my bokken and put on my sandals (since I figured the extra protection would be a good idea for jumping around, as opposed to simply walking around the yard - I wouldn't want to come down hard on a stick or a particularly sharp rock, and ruin all my fun) and I went outside. For once, I ignored whatever insecurities I might have about somebody just happening to be up and glancing out a window to see me, and I started swinging that bokken around, practicing the things I was taught, and imagining myself cutting down invisible enemies left, right, front, and back. It felt great. It was good practice, and it totally boosted my enthusiasm.
If only this sort of thing could be more accepted. I wouldn't have to continue feeling like I have to hide. I went outside again tonight, after tiring myself at DDR. It's colder out tonight, but after getting heated up from a good workout, going outside is one way to cool off quick. And from another perspective, heating up first is a great way to get yourself prepared to go out when the weather's colder. I was too tired to do more bokken practice today, and besides, I wasn't planning on staying out that long, but I wandered around the yard a bit, and enjoyed myself. The ground was damp and a bit muddy, and rather cold. My feet got chilled pretty quick, but instead of running for shelter, I sucked it up, and was able to endure it for quite awhile. Walking through the damp grass and mud actually felt kind of nice, despite my general hatred for dirt of any kind. I went around front, to the porch, and sat down for a brief moment. Then I walked to the front corner of the yard, circled the hydrant, then walked the length of the yard, out on the street past the curb, till I got past the van (parked at the end of the driveway), at which point I re-entered the yard and went toward the back, and around, back inside. Just like I did once before, which I may or may not have mentioned in an entry a while back. I may have left muddy footprints on any part of the pavement I walked on, but I don't really care; it was totally worth it.
Switching gears somewhat, I'm kind of proud of the nude photo I shot today for my project. It was a planned out concept that I think works fairly well. Basically, it's a variation on the three wise monkeys (see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil), which works as a bold statement about the supposed indecency of exposure, and various ideas about censorship. If you can get past the silliness of the idea, it's actually pretty meaningful, I'd like to think. Honestly, I don't know if anyone reading this blog also follows my Daily Nudes project, but if you don't, yet you're interested in seeing this particular shot, I'll spare you the search and give you the link right here - warning: obviously not safe for work, unless you have a cool job :p - (http://www.flickr.com/photos/zharth/2311426357/). Of course, you'll have to be logged in and have the SafeSearch off to see it. And, as always, it's completely up to you if you want to check it out, or not.
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
05 March, 2008
03 March, 2008
Journal 015
Okay, now for the stuff I /meant/ to talk about in my journal entry last night...
I've gotten into the habit of briefly opening the window in the bathroom when I go in to take my shower, after getting out of bed every evening. The reason is so that I can see the landscape, in the light of day, since on my schedule, I very rarely get to see the outside world in daylight. It's great just to be able to actually see the world, instead of just darkness, and in an instant I can tell what the temperature is and what the weather is like for that day. The past week or so it's been pretty snowy, but last night it was unexpectedly mild (on a relative scale, of course). When I looked out the window today, before my shower, all the snow had been completely melted away. God, I can't wait for spring. As much as I love the snow, I want warmer weather already.
Oh, another nice thing about looking out that window, is that, because it's pretty small, you always get the same viewpoint on the world every day, and it's facing west, and by the time I get up, the sun is usually not too far above the horizon (depending on the season, of course), SOOOOO, it's cool to notice how the sun's position on the horizon, and in relation to specific trees and houses in the foreground, changes over the year, moving north in the spring, and south in the fall. That kind of practical astronomical sort of thing fascinates me, which isn't surprising, considering my interest in nature-based pagan spirituality.
Last night I watched a video of a live concert for a Japanese pop group, AKB48, which consists of a bunch of cute Japanese girls, most of which (I believe) are aged in the teens. I'm not gonna bother with an anthropological discussion of modern pop trends in Japan, so if you want some kind of explanation or something, have fun. My friend, who currently lives in Japan, sent me the video, and he's the one who introduced me to the group. Back when we were in college, he introduced me to a similar group, Morning Musume, and we watched a bunch of their videos, and I know I was pretty hooked for a bit. The basic appeal is cute girls dancing around in sexy costumes while singing happy songs. More or less. And although I still prefer the aesthetic of 'white' girls, I've learned over time to appreciate Asian beauty.
The AKB48 video was pretty good. The costumes were impressive. For the first few songs, they had layered outfits, and after each song, they'd instantly peel off the outer layer to reveal a different outfit underneath. It's quite a shocking effect, and it's amazing that they can pull it off; having costumes under costumes, and managing to make them all look fantastic. Then, throughout the show, different sets of girls come in with all kinds of different elaborate costumes. The number with the girls in skeleton dresses was incredibly adorable. I was a little disappointed that they did the song "Skirt, Hirari" in shorts, since one of the major appeals of the song (for me, anyway) is the way they sort of flip their skirt throughout the song. Even without skirts, they were still pretty hot, so I think I can forgive them. I also enjoyed "Seifuku ga Jama wo Suru", which is an amazing song which basically translates to "My School Uniform's Getting In The Way", and involves the girls singing lines like "take off my uniform", "I want to be loved more freely", and such. Personally, it's just more attractive than when some American slut does the same. Different cultural backdrop and whatnot. I'm a sucker for seifuku, anyway.
I guess most fans who get into these Japanese pop groups have a favorite girl (or maybe more than one). I have to admit, ever since the first AKB48 video I watched, there was one girl in particular that stood out from the crowd. Doing some quick research, I find that her name is Kojima Haruna. There aren't a lot of people in my life, the way things are now, and that means there aren't a lot of girls, either. As pathetic as it may sound, I've learned to love two-dimensional animated characters. But unlike some point-of-no-return otaku freaks (and I use that term endearingly), I haven't forsaken my love for three-dimensional girls...yet. Honestly, I'm not too worried about that, but I do like to sympathize with people who get obsessed with fictional characters, because, although there are lines that shouldn't be crossed, there are also certain levels to which we should have no fear of going. In the past, I've argued the merits of having affection for fictional characters, and what bugs me is people who say that there's absolutely no reason to waste emotion on an imaginary person. As far as I'm concerned, the person who says that either has absolutely no imagination, or empathy, or could do with a little less real-world popularity and attention - since he's probably hogging it all, keeping people like us from getting the attention we need.
Well, speaking of pop idols, I was at Wal-Mart last night, and seriously, you can't turn around without finding yourself face-to-face with some kind of Hannah Montana merchandise. It's really getting out of hand. Damn mainstream American pop aesthetic. Give me a cute Japanese chick any day of the week. I've noticed recently that Wal-Mart has been shipping in tasty bakery-style Pepperoni rolls, and it's always a treat having one of those, although sometimes there's less pepperoni than I'd like. I at least looked for a replacement bulb for my reading/heat lamp, but I didn't see the right kind. I probably have to go to some hardware store or something for that, and I don't see that happening any time soon...
Hm, I just remembered that I completely fell behind on my music log last night, and that I still need to catch up. Time has run out, and I'm still not 100% sure of this week's theme. I'm trying to plan ahead for the upcoming holidays. Themes for Easter, and the Vernal Equinox, and eventually Beltane, and all that. Is anybody even keeping up with the ZML? I don't wanna pester people and forcefully remind them to take a look, because that's not the kind of person I am, but I get the feeling that most of the time I'm only doing this for myself. And although I'm more or less okay with that, for the time being, I was hoping that maybe there'd be /some/ kind of discussion about it. I know I took down the comment form, because nobody was using it, but I recently added a link to a discussion on my personal message board, which has been out of use for so long. I figured it was the perfect solution, and I can't believe I didn't think of it before I went to the trouble to program a comment form that ended up being unnecessary.
I know it's a lot to ask people to bear with my specific taste in music, but I've had experience as a DJ, and I'd just like to think that there are people out there that not only respect my services, but are interested /enough/ to at least get involved. I don't mind if somebody thinks a song sucks here or there. And besides, if there's something specific you'd like to hear, I've always been open to suggestions. Granted, I'm still in the captain's seat, but I like to take care of my listeners, when reasonable, and it'd be a good way for our musical tastes to interact, and we may both learn something at the end of the day.
All I'm trying to say is, playing music for people isn't a one way street. But I'll admit, I'm also afraid of the kind of exposure I'd like to have. I think that's a common thread in my life.
I've gotten into the habit of briefly opening the window in the bathroom when I go in to take my shower, after getting out of bed every evening. The reason is so that I can see the landscape, in the light of day, since on my schedule, I very rarely get to see the outside world in daylight. It's great just to be able to actually see the world, instead of just darkness, and in an instant I can tell what the temperature is and what the weather is like for that day. The past week or so it's been pretty snowy, but last night it was unexpectedly mild (on a relative scale, of course). When I looked out the window today, before my shower, all the snow had been completely melted away. God, I can't wait for spring. As much as I love the snow, I want warmer weather already.
Oh, another nice thing about looking out that window, is that, because it's pretty small, you always get the same viewpoint on the world every day, and it's facing west, and by the time I get up, the sun is usually not too far above the horizon (depending on the season, of course), SOOOOO, it's cool to notice how the sun's position on the horizon, and in relation to specific trees and houses in the foreground, changes over the year, moving north in the spring, and south in the fall. That kind of practical astronomical sort of thing fascinates me, which isn't surprising, considering my interest in nature-based pagan spirituality.
Last night I watched a video of a live concert for a Japanese pop group, AKB48, which consists of a bunch of cute Japanese girls, most of which (I believe) are aged in the teens. I'm not gonna bother with an anthropological discussion of modern pop trends in Japan, so if you want some kind of explanation or something, have fun. My friend, who currently lives in Japan, sent me the video, and he's the one who introduced me to the group. Back when we were in college, he introduced me to a similar group, Morning Musume, and we watched a bunch of their videos, and I know I was pretty hooked for a bit. The basic appeal is cute girls dancing around in sexy costumes while singing happy songs. More or less. And although I still prefer the aesthetic of 'white' girls, I've learned over time to appreciate Asian beauty.
The AKB48 video was pretty good. The costumes were impressive. For the first few songs, they had layered outfits, and after each song, they'd instantly peel off the outer layer to reveal a different outfit underneath. It's quite a shocking effect, and it's amazing that they can pull it off; having costumes under costumes, and managing to make them all look fantastic. Then, throughout the show, different sets of girls come in with all kinds of different elaborate costumes. The number with the girls in skeleton dresses was incredibly adorable. I was a little disappointed that they did the song "Skirt, Hirari" in shorts, since one of the major appeals of the song (for me, anyway) is the way they sort of flip their skirt throughout the song. Even without skirts, they were still pretty hot, so I think I can forgive them. I also enjoyed "Seifuku ga Jama wo Suru", which is an amazing song which basically translates to "My School Uniform's Getting In The Way", and involves the girls singing lines like "take off my uniform", "I want to be loved more freely", and such. Personally, it's just more attractive than when some American slut does the same. Different cultural backdrop and whatnot. I'm a sucker for seifuku, anyway.
I guess most fans who get into these Japanese pop groups have a favorite girl (or maybe more than one). I have to admit, ever since the first AKB48 video I watched, there was one girl in particular that stood out from the crowd. Doing some quick research, I find that her name is Kojima Haruna. There aren't a lot of people in my life, the way things are now, and that means there aren't a lot of girls, either. As pathetic as it may sound, I've learned to love two-dimensional animated characters. But unlike some point-of-no-return otaku freaks (and I use that term endearingly), I haven't forsaken my love for three-dimensional girls...yet. Honestly, I'm not too worried about that, but I do like to sympathize with people who get obsessed with fictional characters, because, although there are lines that shouldn't be crossed, there are also certain levels to which we should have no fear of going. In the past, I've argued the merits of having affection for fictional characters, and what bugs me is people who say that there's absolutely no reason to waste emotion on an imaginary person. As far as I'm concerned, the person who says that either has absolutely no imagination, or empathy, or could do with a little less real-world popularity and attention - since he's probably hogging it all, keeping people like us from getting the attention we need.
Well, speaking of pop idols, I was at Wal-Mart last night, and seriously, you can't turn around without finding yourself face-to-face with some kind of Hannah Montana merchandise. It's really getting out of hand. Damn mainstream American pop aesthetic. Give me a cute Japanese chick any day of the week. I've noticed recently that Wal-Mart has been shipping in tasty bakery-style Pepperoni rolls, and it's always a treat having one of those, although sometimes there's less pepperoni than I'd like. I at least looked for a replacement bulb for my reading/heat lamp, but I didn't see the right kind. I probably have to go to some hardware store or something for that, and I don't see that happening any time soon...
Hm, I just remembered that I completely fell behind on my music log last night, and that I still need to catch up. Time has run out, and I'm still not 100% sure of this week's theme. I'm trying to plan ahead for the upcoming holidays. Themes for Easter, and the Vernal Equinox, and eventually Beltane, and all that. Is anybody even keeping up with the ZML? I don't wanna pester people and forcefully remind them to take a look, because that's not the kind of person I am, but I get the feeling that most of the time I'm only doing this for myself. And although I'm more or less okay with that, for the time being, I was hoping that maybe there'd be /some/ kind of discussion about it. I know I took down the comment form, because nobody was using it, but I recently added a link to a discussion on my personal message board, which has been out of use for so long. I figured it was the perfect solution, and I can't believe I didn't think of it before I went to the trouble to program a comment form that ended up being unnecessary.
I know it's a lot to ask people to bear with my specific taste in music, but I've had experience as a DJ, and I'd just like to think that there are people out there that not only respect my services, but are interested /enough/ to at least get involved. I don't mind if somebody thinks a song sucks here or there. And besides, if there's something specific you'd like to hear, I've always been open to suggestions. Granted, I'm still in the captain's seat, but I like to take care of my listeners, when reasonable, and it'd be a good way for our musical tastes to interact, and we may both learn something at the end of the day.
All I'm trying to say is, playing music for people isn't a one way street. But I'll admit, I'm also afraid of the kind of exposure I'd like to have. I think that's a common thread in my life.
27 February, 2008
Journal 013
(This entry was originally written by hand last night, while lying in bed.)
Why is it that the more tired I am, the harder it is to get to sleep? What is up with that? My mind goes into overload and my body starts shutting down, but my mind refuses to relax. So I can't stay up, but I can't go to sleep either. Maybe it has to do with having an obsessive personality. I get caught up in something, and I can't focus on anything else. That's why it's hard for me to multitask. Like lately, I've been absorbed in flickr culture, and I have to struggle to force myself to do something else. Because I get in the zone and I wanna ride it out. If I split my concentration, my involvement and ability in any one task will be reduced in power.
I've kind of dropped my post average lately. Partly because I'm doing the same things. How many times should I come on here and say "I'm still looking at nude photos on flickr"? Still, moods change and thoughts come and go and it's good to keep up to base. Or something.
Well, for today (last night?)'s Daily Nude, I accomplished my snow challenge - diving into a snowdrift, completely naked. And, with photographic proof! Oh, it was quite exciting. I planned the shot meticulously before going out, because I knew the cold would not allow for any mistakes. I ended up setting up the camera on the back porch, on top of an old, sturdy clothes hamper for extra height, looking down at the backyard. Soon as the shot was set, I cued the camera, then rushed down the steps (nearly tripping), and laid back into the snow. I grabbed the camera as I rushed back inside to dry off, and discovered that I had positioned myself too far away, outside the range of the camera's flash! So much for not making any mistakes...
Well, I wasn't *too* chilled, and was instead quite thrilled by the experience, so I knew I had to give it one more shot - but just one. I reset everything, and did it again. When I got down in the snow, knowing this was the shot, I wanted to make the most of it, so I tossed some snow over my body just for the sake of going the extra distance. By the time the flash went off, I was anxious to get up. Again, I grabbed the camera on the way in, but this time, I was even more thoroughly wet and chilled.
Giving the camera some time to dry, I only half dried myself off before rushing upstairs into the shower to soak in a cascade of warm water for five minutes or so. Pleasantly refreshed, and warm, I went back down and checked the camera. The shot was a success! Admittedly, it's not exactly the most flattering angle, but considering the circumstances, I'm quite pleased.
Back online, I made the decision to upgrade to a pro account on flickr, after realizing it was a meager $25 for a full year, and mostly for the ability to better organize my photos. While re-organizing my webcam nudes from college, I yet again decided to throw a few more up on there that I had glossed over earlier. I'm gaining a little bit of confidence. Nude, and proud.
Oh, and I did in fact find a group for 365 nudes - two, actually. But here's the problem. One of them is a splinter group from the main 365 group, and despite being a haven for 365 rejects, I still think I'd be too radical to fit in - there seems to be a bias against genitals, for one thing. Now, I don't see much merit in any of those ridiculous cock shots - I understand the curiosity factor, and I've taken some of my own, but never have I considered them to be of any level of worth that I'd want to show them off (seriously, a guy is more than just a penis...) - but, there's a world of difference between a nude (artistic, erotic, or otherwise) showing the genitals (in context), and a shameless dick pic - and I'm against censorship.
Well, the other group I mentioned seems perfect, except for the fact that it's a ghost town, with few members, very few photos in the pool, and *no* activity. And I don't feel comfortable either sabotaging the group, or being the only contributor. I guess there just isn't that much interest in this aspect as I'd like. I like to sit right on the line between art and porn. Artists are afraid to get too close to pornography, and pornographers have agendas which have little or nothing to do with art. But the line can be a beautiful place - stimulating, yet meaningful. But so many people are afraid of getting shot if they get too close to the border. Either that, or they don't have the skill to walk the line. But now I'm just stroking my own ego...
Why is it that the more tired I am, the harder it is to get to sleep? What is up with that? My mind goes into overload and my body starts shutting down, but my mind refuses to relax. So I can't stay up, but I can't go to sleep either. Maybe it has to do with having an obsessive personality. I get caught up in something, and I can't focus on anything else. That's why it's hard for me to multitask. Like lately, I've been absorbed in flickr culture, and I have to struggle to force myself to do something else. Because I get in the zone and I wanna ride it out. If I split my concentration, my involvement and ability in any one task will be reduced in power.
I've kind of dropped my post average lately. Partly because I'm doing the same things. How many times should I come on here and say "I'm still looking at nude photos on flickr"? Still, moods change and thoughts come and go and it's good to keep up to base. Or something.
Well, for today (last night?)'s Daily Nude, I accomplished my snow challenge - diving into a snowdrift, completely naked. And, with photographic proof! Oh, it was quite exciting. I planned the shot meticulously before going out, because I knew the cold would not allow for any mistakes. I ended up setting up the camera on the back porch, on top of an old, sturdy clothes hamper for extra height, looking down at the backyard. Soon as the shot was set, I cued the camera, then rushed down the steps (nearly tripping), and laid back into the snow. I grabbed the camera as I rushed back inside to dry off, and discovered that I had positioned myself too far away, outside the range of the camera's flash! So much for not making any mistakes...
Well, I wasn't *too* chilled, and was instead quite thrilled by the experience, so I knew I had to give it one more shot - but just one. I reset everything, and did it again. When I got down in the snow, knowing this was the shot, I wanted to make the most of it, so I tossed some snow over my body just for the sake of going the extra distance. By the time the flash went off, I was anxious to get up. Again, I grabbed the camera on the way in, but this time, I was even more thoroughly wet and chilled.
Giving the camera some time to dry, I only half dried myself off before rushing upstairs into the shower to soak in a cascade of warm water for five minutes or so. Pleasantly refreshed, and warm, I went back down and checked the camera. The shot was a success! Admittedly, it's not exactly the most flattering angle, but considering the circumstances, I'm quite pleased.
Back online, I made the decision to upgrade to a pro account on flickr, after realizing it was a meager $25 for a full year, and mostly for the ability to better organize my photos. While re-organizing my webcam nudes from college, I yet again decided to throw a few more up on there that I had glossed over earlier. I'm gaining a little bit of confidence. Nude, and proud.
Oh, and I did in fact find a group for 365 nudes - two, actually. But here's the problem. One of them is a splinter group from the main 365 group, and despite being a haven for 365 rejects, I still think I'd be too radical to fit in - there seems to be a bias against genitals, for one thing. Now, I don't see much merit in any of those ridiculous cock shots - I understand the curiosity factor, and I've taken some of my own, but never have I considered them to be of any level of worth that I'd want to show them off (seriously, a guy is more than just a penis...) - but, there's a world of difference between a nude (artistic, erotic, or otherwise) showing the genitals (in context), and a shameless dick pic - and I'm against censorship.
Well, the other group I mentioned seems perfect, except for the fact that it's a ghost town, with few members, very few photos in the pool, and *no* activity. And I don't feel comfortable either sabotaging the group, or being the only contributor. I guess there just isn't that much interest in this aspect as I'd like. I like to sit right on the line between art and porn. Artists are afraid to get too close to pornography, and pornographers have agendas which have little or nothing to do with art. But the line can be a beautiful place - stimulating, yet meaningful. But so many people are afraid of getting shot if they get too close to the border. Either that, or they don't have the skill to walk the line. But now I'm just stroking my own ego...
22 February, 2008
Footprints In The Snow
Three days and I haven't given up the 365 Nudes challenge yet! Although, I'm gonna have to adjust my work habits. As it is, when I pick up the camera, the mood overtakes me, and I can't seem to put it down. I get different ideas and try different things, and it ends up consuming a lot of time, and I end up with more than one good shot. If I were to keep up that pace, it'd burn me out. So I'm gonna have to try to contain my inspiration in rapid daily bursts, if possible.
I was looking outside tonight, and I noticed the brightness of the 'winter red' sky, coupled with a complete layer of reflective snow on the ground. Last night the full moon was shining bright, but tonight it was fully obscured by clouds. But the combined effect between the luminous red night sky and the bright snowy ground may have created a backdrop even brighter than the full moon. The difference is, though the full moon provides a lot more light than is typical during the night, the ground is still rather dark. But with the white snow covering the ground, reflecting the uncanny brightness of the 'winter red' sky, the ground level environment is possibly brighter than when a full moon shines down on the dark land below.
I've tried shooting with my current camera in full moonlight before, and where my eyes could see much, the camera was blind, to my disappoint. Full moonlight is so very enchanting. But with tonight's 'snow red' condition, I was curious if there was enough light for the camera to pick something up. And there was! The ground was visible, and the sky was even brighter! Exciting! So what does this mean? Maybe I could finally take a picture of myself outside, while naked, since that's where the nude fits best!
Well, the major problem with that plan is the fact that the snow is very, very cold. Still, I knew it was worth at least trying for one shot. But because of the cold and the wetness of the snow, I knew it wouldn't be very easy to get multiple shots, so I had to set things up and make it count! I opened up the front door, and set the camera up on the ground just inside, sitting on top of a short boost. I checked to make sure the camera would pick up the walkway straight out the front door. I turned off the flash and set the counter. This was it. I hit the button, and then rushed outside, thinking only that I had ten seconds to pose myself. Rushing into the snow, being careful only enough not to slip and fall, I felt it was incredibly soft. Like the kind of soft fake stuff they use in department stores for Santa's arena. It was also a little bit deeper than I expected. It was a very magical sensation.
I made it to the edge of the walkway, in about the middle of the yard, and quickly turned around to face back towards the house. I threw my arms up to take in the spirit of the moment, and I noticed by the red light on the front of the camera that I was a second or two early. Those extra moments out there waiting for the shutter to snap, hopping and waving my arms like a looney, conscious of the possibility that by some coincidence another person in one of the nearby houses might be awake and glancing out the window at the beautiful snowscape, only to see a crazy figure jumping around in the snow completely naked, were tense. But luckily, the camera functioned properly and took the picture, and then, now getting quite cold - more so on my feet than anywhere else, obviously - I rushed back inside. I dried my feet on the towel I placed by the door, but I couldn't tell when they were dry, because I didn't feel the wetness, only the cold. Then I went upstairs and warmed them off in the tub. And then I checked my camera to see how the picture came out.
Well, it did just what I could have hoped it would do, my only concern being that the image is pretty dark. But the important thing is that it's light enough to make out. So for what it's worth, that was a success. Photographic evidence of me naked outdoors, in the snow, becoming one with the goddess of winter. After marking down that success, I considered trying for another, perhaps to accomplish that diving in the snow fantasy I have, but ultimately I decided it was just too cold. One step at a time, I suppose.
I noticed that I left footprints in the snow just outside the front door, leading out to the edge of the walkway and back. Now that I think about it, I should have taken a picture of them, with the flash, real quick. Maybe I'll try that some other time. I certainly didn't feel like going back out and smudging them, so I just left them as is. I imagine it will be quite a shock when my dad gets up and sees bare footprints in the snow just outside the front door. I don't see how he could possibly miss them. But you know, I'm not really that concerned about it. I have a feeling he's done a lot of crazy things in his youth, so he'd probably understand getting an impulse to do something crazy every once in awhile. Then again, I could always argue that I was only going out for a moment, and I decided it was easier to dry my feet than my shoes...
I was looking outside tonight, and I noticed the brightness of the 'winter red' sky, coupled with a complete layer of reflective snow on the ground. Last night the full moon was shining bright, but tonight it was fully obscured by clouds. But the combined effect between the luminous red night sky and the bright snowy ground may have created a backdrop even brighter than the full moon. The difference is, though the full moon provides a lot more light than is typical during the night, the ground is still rather dark. But with the white snow covering the ground, reflecting the uncanny brightness of the 'winter red' sky, the ground level environment is possibly brighter than when a full moon shines down on the dark land below.
I've tried shooting with my current camera in full moonlight before, and where my eyes could see much, the camera was blind, to my disappoint. Full moonlight is so very enchanting. But with tonight's 'snow red' condition, I was curious if there was enough light for the camera to pick something up. And there was! The ground was visible, and the sky was even brighter! Exciting! So what does this mean? Maybe I could finally take a picture of myself outside, while naked, since that's where the nude fits best!
Well, the major problem with that plan is the fact that the snow is very, very cold. Still, I knew it was worth at least trying for one shot. But because of the cold and the wetness of the snow, I knew it wouldn't be very easy to get multiple shots, so I had to set things up and make it count! I opened up the front door, and set the camera up on the ground just inside, sitting on top of a short boost. I checked to make sure the camera would pick up the walkway straight out the front door. I turned off the flash and set the counter. This was it. I hit the button, and then rushed outside, thinking only that I had ten seconds to pose myself. Rushing into the snow, being careful only enough not to slip and fall, I felt it was incredibly soft. Like the kind of soft fake stuff they use in department stores for Santa's arena. It was also a little bit deeper than I expected. It was a very magical sensation.
I made it to the edge of the walkway, in about the middle of the yard, and quickly turned around to face back towards the house. I threw my arms up to take in the spirit of the moment, and I noticed by the red light on the front of the camera that I was a second or two early. Those extra moments out there waiting for the shutter to snap, hopping and waving my arms like a looney, conscious of the possibility that by some coincidence another person in one of the nearby houses might be awake and glancing out the window at the beautiful snowscape, only to see a crazy figure jumping around in the snow completely naked, were tense. But luckily, the camera functioned properly and took the picture, and then, now getting quite cold - more so on my feet than anywhere else, obviously - I rushed back inside. I dried my feet on the towel I placed by the door, but I couldn't tell when they were dry, because I didn't feel the wetness, only the cold. Then I went upstairs and warmed them off in the tub. And then I checked my camera to see how the picture came out.
Well, it did just what I could have hoped it would do, my only concern being that the image is pretty dark. But the important thing is that it's light enough to make out. So for what it's worth, that was a success. Photographic evidence of me naked outdoors, in the snow, becoming one with the goddess of winter. After marking down that success, I considered trying for another, perhaps to accomplish that diving in the snow fantasy I have, but ultimately I decided it was just too cold. One step at a time, I suppose.
I noticed that I left footprints in the snow just outside the front door, leading out to the edge of the walkway and back. Now that I think about it, I should have taken a picture of them, with the flash, real quick. Maybe I'll try that some other time. I certainly didn't feel like going back out and smudging them, so I just left them as is. I imagine it will be quite a shock when my dad gets up and sees bare footprints in the snow just outside the front door. I don't see how he could possibly miss them. But you know, I'm not really that concerned about it. I have a feeling he's done a lot of crazy things in his youth, so he'd probably understand getting an impulse to do something crazy every once in awhile. Then again, I could always argue that I was only going out for a moment, and I decided it was easier to dry my feet than my shoes...
18 February, 2008
More Fun Without Clothes
Today the weather was nice and warm, up into the 50's at least. It doesn't look like it'll last, even another day, but it was quite pleasurable to get even just a small taste of spring. I actually hadn't thought much about it, despite noticing the weather when we went out to dinner for yet another birthday celebration, but this evening, my brother came back, apparently from a walk, and informed me of the still-warm weather. It was still a bit early, but I went and checked it out. I was already undressed, and I just went out on the back porch, just outside the door, to gauge the temperature. There was a definite attractive feel to the spring-harbinging air, and it felt nice compared to the chill we've been having, but you know, it was still a bit chilly. The moon, heading towards full, was bright in the western sky, and the swatches of cloud were moving pretty quickly across the sky.
I went back in, then after awhile, I heard wind and rain. I checked again, and it was damp outside - probably better that I hadn't gone out for a walk earlier. The wind was pretty fierce for only a short moment, and I wanted to go right out, on the front porch, to experience it, but the motion-sensing light next door was flashing on and off - most likely due to the wind, but it was still too bad a sign for me to go right out. The light eventually stopped, which I take to mean that there's a decent chance somebody was up to shut it down. I waited a little bit, and it stayed dark, and then I just couldn't stay inside anymore. But I grabbed a dark blanket from my room to cover myself to be extra cautious. It's about the right size to cover me down to about my knees, when wrapped around my shoulders. It's quicker than putting on the ritual cloak, and it's also not as thick and doesn't cover as much, so it lets you feel a little bit more naked than having the huge ritual cloak wrapped around you. It's wooly, so it's pretty good for warmth, but also bad for generating my arch-nemesis, static electricity.
Anyway, I went out onto the porch, and things stayed pretty dark and quiet, so I was happy. My feet got wet right away, even just stepping onto the porch mat, but I was expecting that. I stood for awhile, taking in the atmosphere, as the wind and rain fluctuated, but generally stayed fairly calm. A couple times I stepped toward the edge of the porch, to the end of the overhang, and stuck my leg out to determine the rainfall, which I could hear, but was actually pretty light. I started getting ideas about going out into it, just for a moment. Definitely too cold for anything substantial, but looking at the few remaining patches of snow on the lawn that hadn't yet been disintegrated by the rain, I was possessed by the desire to step in one.
I've always wanted to dive into a snowdrift while naked, but as of yet I've been deterred by the thought of how cold that would be. This would at least be a small step in that direction. My feet were already pretty cold, but keeping them in the same spot on the porch mat kept them manageable. Stepping out toward the edge of the porch, the ground was colder. But I figured it wasn't too cold that I couldn't do it, even though the only snow patch large enough to step in completely was out and down the steps in the middle of the front yard, and then across the driveway, next to the basketball hoop. I knew that stepping into the snow would be really cold, but I judged that I could handle it.
A couple months ago, around Yule, I made a complete circuit around the house on a couple different nights, when the mood struck me, despite the cold. It was a chance to get outside, and going completely around the house made it significant, but it was quick enough that I could get back inside and warm up before I began to freeze. The one thing I remember most, though, is that with the ground as cold as it was (though without any snowfall), my feet got absolutely frigid by the time I made it all the way around the house. But in light of those experiences, I knew that I could handle this one - stepping into the snow.
My first instinct was to drop the blanket I had wrapped around me (well, hang it on the door knob perhaps, so it wouldn't get wet and dirty lying on the ground), so I could do it completely naked, but I was too cautious to do that. I didn't want it to get wet, but I figured the rainfall was light enough that it wouldn't be significant. So I went for it, with the blanket wrapped around me. I made the route out to the remaining snow patches, on the other side of the driveway. Stepping into the snow, it actually didn't feel too cold at first. I stomped around for a few seconds before the cold started to sink in - and it was cold! But not too cold that I couldn't keep my calm. So I considered myself victorious, and headed back to the porch. Now that my feet were freezing, I thought it was a good time to go in.
Back inside, I climbed up the steps, on my hands and knees, since I didn't really have anything to wipe my feet off with, other than the mat in front of the door. I crawled into the bathroom, and rinsed my feet off. One thing I've discovered from my experiences walking around barefoot outside, is that coming in and rinsing them off (especially with warm water when it's cold), feels great. In addition to the warmth, it makes them soft and smooth, which feels good on the carpet, just like when you come out of the shower.
To switch topics, anyone who really knew me in college knows that I used to play DDR a lot. I'm not gonna go into the whole history of that here - that'll probably turn up in one of my College Memories sometime in the future. But I will mention that I thought it was a pretty lame game, like most people, before I really got into it. Even after getting into it, there's still an inherent lameness factor, but the bottom line is, not only is it a fun game that you can play both alone and with friends, but, best of all, it's a great excuse to get exercise, in a thoroughly entertaining fashion. Although I do enjoy walking, it doesn't exactly happen everyday, and a lot less during the cold months. Although I may or may not have better instincts or base statistics than other people, the fact of the matter is, I'm not in very good shape. For the past two years, most of my days have consisted of me sitting at the computer. All. Day. Long.
Now, I'm not real concerned about losing weight. I wouldn't mind if it happened, but even now, I'd say I have healthy proportions, and I wouldn't go out of my way to get any thinner. I don't really care about muscles, either. Again, I wouldn't mind having more strength, but it's never been all that important to me, and I wouldn't go too far out of my way to bulk up (weight-lifting has never seemed all that attractive to me). The one thing I am concerned about is having a healthy heart. Having endurance. Being able to exert myself physically over a period of time without exhausting myself prematurely. It seems rather pointless right now, since I don't really do anything like that, except for walking, so it seems like I don't really *need* to be in better shape. But I like the idea of doing those sort of things, sport-like things, just for the sake of fun - because it makes you feel good. Kind of hard to do things like toss a ball around when you're on your own, I guess, but there are still things you can do without a team.
Anyway, I always come back to the idea of playing DDR to keep me in shape, since it's fun, it's something I can do by myself, and it doesn't matter what the weather's like, either. Of course, I have yet to commit myself to any kind of regular regimen. But you know, it keeps coming up in my mind. Part of the problem is that there is that lameness factor to playing DDR, making me feel silly at the thought of being caught playing it - which, really, is rather ridiculous. I happen to have some dance pads left over from my college days, which I think still work at least relatively well, if not perfectly. Pads can be a pain, since they always seem to be breaking down and responding wrong, which really throws off your game. But you know what? If you're just playing for exercise, it doesn't really matter if you use pads, because the important thing isn't to get all the notes right, but just to get yourself moving, and the game provides a pattern for you to follow. I guess the only other real potential problem is the fact that playing DDR involves jumping around a bit, and that can cause structural stress in the floors, as well as potentially cause a lot of noise, thumping around at night. But I think it's at least worth another try.
Staying within the overall topic of this blog entry, I'll obviously have to try playing DDR in the nude. Not that it would be the first time. Actually, there was a marginally-related incident that I feel kind of bad about, in hindsight. One day back in college, two of my friends were playing DDR in our dorm room. Instead of playing, I went out for a little bit. If I recall correctly, it was because the weather was nice, and I had already decided to go out with my guitar for a bit before the sun set. Although that could have been another day. But for whatever reason I left, I came back later, only to enter the room and discover to my surprise two guys practically in their underwear, dancing about, playing the game. They were obviously only trying to keep cool, but you can imagine my surprise. And I feel bad about it, because I was judging them then just the way I fear people might judge me now. But then again, context is an important factor with these sorts of things.
One other physical activity I've considered doing nude is practicing kendo. Certainly, they put on a lot of armor, and if you're actually sparring with someone, it would be immensely dangerous. But I mean just on my own, practicing forms and such. I'd have started doing it a long time ago, if it were something I could do in the privacy of my room. But alas, the confined quarters (even considering the size of my room), make swinging a sword around quite unreasonable. There's always the backyard, but the problem I've had so far with practicing kendo where someone might see me (even if dressed), is that, based on my anxiety issues, I don't feel confident about going out and swinging my sword around. I feel like I'd stick out, and people, if they saw me, would naturally focus their attention on me and maybe want to ask me questions and watch me practice, and then there would be tons of pressure on me to act like I know what I'm doing, you know? Regardless of whether the reaction is positive or negative, that kind of attention makes me uncomfortable. Even in the dead of night, when I'd love to be confident enough to go out and practice without even wearing clothes, when the weather's nice, I still can't shake those anxieties about the slim chance that someone might be awake, and they might glance out their window, and see me. And under those conditions, it'd be even worse, because swinging around a sword at night is generally suspicious, and doing so naked is even more alarming and questionable.
At any rate, I thought about finding something special to wear, that would let me blend in with the shadows better, giving me more confidence to get out there and practice. You know, something vaguely ninja-like. Skin-tight, black, covering the arms and legs. If it helps me get out there, it'd be great, but I don't know how great I feel about ordering a unitard from some dance company. But I don't want some expensive, pop culture ninja get-up, either. Just something simple and effective.
Anyway, just some things I've been thinking about.
I went back in, then after awhile, I heard wind and rain. I checked again, and it was damp outside - probably better that I hadn't gone out for a walk earlier. The wind was pretty fierce for only a short moment, and I wanted to go right out, on the front porch, to experience it, but the motion-sensing light next door was flashing on and off - most likely due to the wind, but it was still too bad a sign for me to go right out. The light eventually stopped, which I take to mean that there's a decent chance somebody was up to shut it down. I waited a little bit, and it stayed dark, and then I just couldn't stay inside anymore. But I grabbed a dark blanket from my room to cover myself to be extra cautious. It's about the right size to cover me down to about my knees, when wrapped around my shoulders. It's quicker than putting on the ritual cloak, and it's also not as thick and doesn't cover as much, so it lets you feel a little bit more naked than having the huge ritual cloak wrapped around you. It's wooly, so it's pretty good for warmth, but also bad for generating my arch-nemesis, static electricity.
Anyway, I went out onto the porch, and things stayed pretty dark and quiet, so I was happy. My feet got wet right away, even just stepping onto the porch mat, but I was expecting that. I stood for awhile, taking in the atmosphere, as the wind and rain fluctuated, but generally stayed fairly calm. A couple times I stepped toward the edge of the porch, to the end of the overhang, and stuck my leg out to determine the rainfall, which I could hear, but was actually pretty light. I started getting ideas about going out into it, just for a moment. Definitely too cold for anything substantial, but looking at the few remaining patches of snow on the lawn that hadn't yet been disintegrated by the rain, I was possessed by the desire to step in one.
I've always wanted to dive into a snowdrift while naked, but as of yet I've been deterred by the thought of how cold that would be. This would at least be a small step in that direction. My feet were already pretty cold, but keeping them in the same spot on the porch mat kept them manageable. Stepping out toward the edge of the porch, the ground was colder. But I figured it wasn't too cold that I couldn't do it, even though the only snow patch large enough to step in completely was out and down the steps in the middle of the front yard, and then across the driveway, next to the basketball hoop. I knew that stepping into the snow would be really cold, but I judged that I could handle it.
A couple months ago, around Yule, I made a complete circuit around the house on a couple different nights, when the mood struck me, despite the cold. It was a chance to get outside, and going completely around the house made it significant, but it was quick enough that I could get back inside and warm up before I began to freeze. The one thing I remember most, though, is that with the ground as cold as it was (though without any snowfall), my feet got absolutely frigid by the time I made it all the way around the house. But in light of those experiences, I knew that I could handle this one - stepping into the snow.
My first instinct was to drop the blanket I had wrapped around me (well, hang it on the door knob perhaps, so it wouldn't get wet and dirty lying on the ground), so I could do it completely naked, but I was too cautious to do that. I didn't want it to get wet, but I figured the rainfall was light enough that it wouldn't be significant. So I went for it, with the blanket wrapped around me. I made the route out to the remaining snow patches, on the other side of the driveway. Stepping into the snow, it actually didn't feel too cold at first. I stomped around for a few seconds before the cold started to sink in - and it was cold! But not too cold that I couldn't keep my calm. So I considered myself victorious, and headed back to the porch. Now that my feet were freezing, I thought it was a good time to go in.
Back inside, I climbed up the steps, on my hands and knees, since I didn't really have anything to wipe my feet off with, other than the mat in front of the door. I crawled into the bathroom, and rinsed my feet off. One thing I've discovered from my experiences walking around barefoot outside, is that coming in and rinsing them off (especially with warm water when it's cold), feels great. In addition to the warmth, it makes them soft and smooth, which feels good on the carpet, just like when you come out of the shower.
To switch topics, anyone who really knew me in college knows that I used to play DDR a lot. I'm not gonna go into the whole history of that here - that'll probably turn up in one of my College Memories sometime in the future. But I will mention that I thought it was a pretty lame game, like most people, before I really got into it. Even after getting into it, there's still an inherent lameness factor, but the bottom line is, not only is it a fun game that you can play both alone and with friends, but, best of all, it's a great excuse to get exercise, in a thoroughly entertaining fashion. Although I do enjoy walking, it doesn't exactly happen everyday, and a lot less during the cold months. Although I may or may not have better instincts or base statistics than other people, the fact of the matter is, I'm not in very good shape. For the past two years, most of my days have consisted of me sitting at the computer. All. Day. Long.
Now, I'm not real concerned about losing weight. I wouldn't mind if it happened, but even now, I'd say I have healthy proportions, and I wouldn't go out of my way to get any thinner. I don't really care about muscles, either. Again, I wouldn't mind having more strength, but it's never been all that important to me, and I wouldn't go too far out of my way to bulk up (weight-lifting has never seemed all that attractive to me). The one thing I am concerned about is having a healthy heart. Having endurance. Being able to exert myself physically over a period of time without exhausting myself prematurely. It seems rather pointless right now, since I don't really do anything like that, except for walking, so it seems like I don't really *need* to be in better shape. But I like the idea of doing those sort of things, sport-like things, just for the sake of fun - because it makes you feel good. Kind of hard to do things like toss a ball around when you're on your own, I guess, but there are still things you can do without a team.
Anyway, I always come back to the idea of playing DDR to keep me in shape, since it's fun, it's something I can do by myself, and it doesn't matter what the weather's like, either. Of course, I have yet to commit myself to any kind of regular regimen. But you know, it keeps coming up in my mind. Part of the problem is that there is that lameness factor to playing DDR, making me feel silly at the thought of being caught playing it - which, really, is rather ridiculous. I happen to have some dance pads left over from my college days, which I think still work at least relatively well, if not perfectly. Pads can be a pain, since they always seem to be breaking down and responding wrong, which really throws off your game. But you know what? If you're just playing for exercise, it doesn't really matter if you use pads, because the important thing isn't to get all the notes right, but just to get yourself moving, and the game provides a pattern for you to follow. I guess the only other real potential problem is the fact that playing DDR involves jumping around a bit, and that can cause structural stress in the floors, as well as potentially cause a lot of noise, thumping around at night. But I think it's at least worth another try.
Staying within the overall topic of this blog entry, I'll obviously have to try playing DDR in the nude. Not that it would be the first time. Actually, there was a marginally-related incident that I feel kind of bad about, in hindsight. One day back in college, two of my friends were playing DDR in our dorm room. Instead of playing, I went out for a little bit. If I recall correctly, it was because the weather was nice, and I had already decided to go out with my guitar for a bit before the sun set. Although that could have been another day. But for whatever reason I left, I came back later, only to enter the room and discover to my surprise two guys practically in their underwear, dancing about, playing the game. They were obviously only trying to keep cool, but you can imagine my surprise. And I feel bad about it, because I was judging them then just the way I fear people might judge me now. But then again, context is an important factor with these sorts of things.
One other physical activity I've considered doing nude is practicing kendo. Certainly, they put on a lot of armor, and if you're actually sparring with someone, it would be immensely dangerous. But I mean just on my own, practicing forms and such. I'd have started doing it a long time ago, if it were something I could do in the privacy of my room. But alas, the confined quarters (even considering the size of my room), make swinging a sword around quite unreasonable. There's always the backyard, but the problem I've had so far with practicing kendo where someone might see me (even if dressed), is that, based on my anxiety issues, I don't feel confident about going out and swinging my sword around. I feel like I'd stick out, and people, if they saw me, would naturally focus their attention on me and maybe want to ask me questions and watch me practice, and then there would be tons of pressure on me to act like I know what I'm doing, you know? Regardless of whether the reaction is positive or negative, that kind of attention makes me uncomfortable. Even in the dead of night, when I'd love to be confident enough to go out and practice without even wearing clothes, when the weather's nice, I still can't shake those anxieties about the slim chance that someone might be awake, and they might glance out their window, and see me. And under those conditions, it'd be even worse, because swinging around a sword at night is generally suspicious, and doing so naked is even more alarming and questionable.
At any rate, I thought about finding something special to wear, that would let me blend in with the shadows better, giving me more confidence to get out there and practice. You know, something vaguely ninja-like. Skin-tight, black, covering the arms and legs. If it helps me get out there, it'd be great, but I don't know how great I feel about ordering a unitard from some dance company. But I don't want some expensive, pop culture ninja get-up, either. Just something simple and effective.
Anyway, just some things I've been thinking about.
02 February, 2008
Journal 008 (or The Candlelight Journal)
Feb 1, 2008 ~6:20 AM
Tonight has been very exciting. I am now writing this note by hand(!), and by candlelight. It is very romantic, indeed. There's just something appealing about the natural light of a flickering flame, that the ultra-bright coverage of an electric bulb just can't capture. It's organic, it's living, and it's a lot warmer, psychologically. Anyhow, the only time a candle can truly live up to its reputation is when the power goes out, as it did almost an hour ago, at 5:37 AM. No electric hums, no colored LED's, just quiet blackness interrupted only by a flickering flame.
I had just finished having a snack before the power went out. While I was sitting at the kitchen table, three times the light flickered - but even then, I didn't think they'd go all the way. I had just got up to my room when everything went black. It was quite chilling, as you could expect. But power outages are always so very thrilling, and I welcome them always. Lucky for me, I was standing right beside where I had my flashlight sitting - the kind with an electromagnet that never needs batteries (you just have to pump it up) - so there was a minimum of stumbling around in the dark for me.
Ironically, I had been lighting incense and candles earlier for my Imbolc rituals, so I was prepared to fire up my cinnamon candle for backup lighting. It was pretty neat taking it into the bathroom with me to brush my teeth. I grabbed my katana for defense, which I usually do in situations like this, when I get the sense something may be out of place (it's never serious, but better safe than sorry), although I was pretty confident the power outage was due to the weather conditions.
It rained steadily during the middle part of the night - though, looking out at the trees, which appear to have a coating of sleet (granted, it's hard to tell in the dark of night), it was probably more ice than rain. At 3AM, I tried to go out on the porch to commune while it was still raining. I had put on my ritual cloak, and my faerie amulet. As soon as I walked out the front door, even way under the roof of the porch, I was already stepping on wet ground. And it was cold, too. I laid down the towel and tried lighting a candle. I used the last two matches in the matchbook I brought with me, and they both died. I realized things weren't working out, so I took my ritual inside. At least it was nice to have the rain pouring soothingly onto the roof.
On an only vaguely related note, this may be a coincidence, but I discovered that keeping my door closed significantly helps to keep my room warmer than the rest of the house. I hope it's not just a coincidence.
Earlier today, I was playing with my bondage rope, and I think I finally worked out a pattern that avoids running through the crack of the ass - which, quite frankly, isn't my idea of welcome stimulation. And the rope I have is long enough to also tie off the ankles or, alternatively, the wrists (if I weren't practicing on myself) - and maybe even both if used efficiently!
Anyhow, while trying out my new pattern, I came up with an idea for a photo-op depicting a modernized version of the Eight of Swords tarot card, which I sympathize with. I would've jumped on it, but for the trouble with shooting myself. I keep finding myself wishing that I, at the very least, had a tripod to set up and steady my camera. Up until now, I've used a very ingenious, but very restricted, trick for shooting myself. It turns out that if I hang my camera sideways from the pullstring for the light, hanging in the center of my room, I can get the camera to point right at the door, perfect for a full-body shoot if I stand against that wall. As you can see, this is very restrictive. So I finally ended up buying a cheap (talkin' 5 bucks here) mini-tripod that I think will work with my digital camera, so I can see if it makes a significant difference.
(Uh-oh, police sirens!)
And I'm still pissed about the battery situation. Am I the only person who thinks the hassle of rechargeable batteries isn't worth the advantages? Alkaline batteries can only be used once, but they're ready when you need them. Maybe there are quicker chargers, but if I want to use my rechargeable batteries, I have to wait 8 hours, and by then, the inspiration/opportunity is long gone. Do I have to recharge my batteries every day, just so that they'll be ready when I need them, even if I don't use them for weeks at a time? Don't rechargeable batteries gradually wear down the more times you recharge them? Or am I mistaken, and are they immortal? I can't find anyone else who seems to have these problems, so I'm starting to feel like I'm doing something wrong.
That rant's just about killed my wrist, so I better wrap this up. I can't imagine what it was like before people replaced writing with typing - even though I was alive long enough to experience it. Writing has always been painful - physically in addition to anything else. And I just can't write as fast as I think - so I push myself to write faster and faster, and I just strain the muscles in my hand more and more...
Well, my last point is that it is now February, so the RPM Challenge is on. I start working on my project tomorrow! I'm registered under the name "Eight of Swords". For inspiration, I put on my ambient station on Pandora - which I haven't listened to in a long time. Good stuff. I'll probably listen to it a lot this month to keep my mind in the zone, and constantly hearing new stuff, getting new ideas. I hope my project turns out well.
Well, it's quiet now - very quiet. I hope the power comes on eventually, or else I won't have the distortion and feedback I need. But it could be hours. Not much left to do, so I should go to bed. For once, I'll enjoy a natural sleep with no lights at all (except the dim light that'll creep through the blankets as the daylight grows), and no sounds to disturb me (especially not the super loud fan on the computer!). I just hope I don't oversleep, without having the alarm set. If the power does come back on before I wake up, it'll probably wake me up then I can settle things before drifting back to sleep. For now, I'm not gonna worry about it. I'll just enjoy the rare electronic solitude. And so, I will now blow out the candle and crawl under the warm covers of my bed. Good night!
Tonight has been very exciting. I am now writing this note by hand(!), and by candlelight. It is very romantic, indeed. There's just something appealing about the natural light of a flickering flame, that the ultra-bright coverage of an electric bulb just can't capture. It's organic, it's living, and it's a lot warmer, psychologically. Anyhow, the only time a candle can truly live up to its reputation is when the power goes out, as it did almost an hour ago, at 5:37 AM. No electric hums, no colored LED's, just quiet blackness interrupted only by a flickering flame.
I had just finished having a snack before the power went out. While I was sitting at the kitchen table, three times the light flickered - but even then, I didn't think they'd go all the way. I had just got up to my room when everything went black. It was quite chilling, as you could expect. But power outages are always so very thrilling, and I welcome them always. Lucky for me, I was standing right beside where I had my flashlight sitting - the kind with an electromagnet that never needs batteries (you just have to pump it up) - so there was a minimum of stumbling around in the dark for me.
Ironically, I had been lighting incense and candles earlier for my Imbolc rituals, so I was prepared to fire up my cinnamon candle for backup lighting. It was pretty neat taking it into the bathroom with me to brush my teeth. I grabbed my katana for defense, which I usually do in situations like this, when I get the sense something may be out of place (it's never serious, but better safe than sorry), although I was pretty confident the power outage was due to the weather conditions.
It rained steadily during the middle part of the night - though, looking out at the trees, which appear to have a coating of sleet (granted, it's hard to tell in the dark of night), it was probably more ice than rain. At 3AM, I tried to go out on the porch to commune while it was still raining. I had put on my ritual cloak, and my faerie amulet. As soon as I walked out the front door, even way under the roof of the porch, I was already stepping on wet ground. And it was cold, too. I laid down the towel and tried lighting a candle. I used the last two matches in the matchbook I brought with me, and they both died. I realized things weren't working out, so I took my ritual inside. At least it was nice to have the rain pouring soothingly onto the roof.
On an only vaguely related note, this may be a coincidence, but I discovered that keeping my door closed significantly helps to keep my room warmer than the rest of the house. I hope it's not just a coincidence.
Earlier today, I was playing with my bondage rope, and I think I finally worked out a pattern that avoids running through the crack of the ass - which, quite frankly, isn't my idea of welcome stimulation. And the rope I have is long enough to also tie off the ankles or, alternatively, the wrists (if I weren't practicing on myself) - and maybe even both if used efficiently!
Anyhow, while trying out my new pattern, I came up with an idea for a photo-op depicting a modernized version of the Eight of Swords tarot card, which I sympathize with. I would've jumped on it, but for the trouble with shooting myself. I keep finding myself wishing that I, at the very least, had a tripod to set up and steady my camera. Up until now, I've used a very ingenious, but very restricted, trick for shooting myself. It turns out that if I hang my camera sideways from the pullstring for the light, hanging in the center of my room, I can get the camera to point right at the door, perfect for a full-body shoot if I stand against that wall. As you can see, this is very restrictive. So I finally ended up buying a cheap (talkin' 5 bucks here) mini-tripod that I think will work with my digital camera, so I can see if it makes a significant difference.
(Uh-oh, police sirens!)
And I'm still pissed about the battery situation. Am I the only person who thinks the hassle of rechargeable batteries isn't worth the advantages? Alkaline batteries can only be used once, but they're ready when you need them. Maybe there are quicker chargers, but if I want to use my rechargeable batteries, I have to wait 8 hours, and by then, the inspiration/opportunity is long gone. Do I have to recharge my batteries every day, just so that they'll be ready when I need them, even if I don't use them for weeks at a time? Don't rechargeable batteries gradually wear down the more times you recharge them? Or am I mistaken, and are they immortal? I can't find anyone else who seems to have these problems, so I'm starting to feel like I'm doing something wrong.
That rant's just about killed my wrist, so I better wrap this up. I can't imagine what it was like before people replaced writing with typing - even though I was alive long enough to experience it. Writing has always been painful - physically in addition to anything else. And I just can't write as fast as I think - so I push myself to write faster and faster, and I just strain the muscles in my hand more and more...
Well, my last point is that it is now February, so the RPM Challenge is on. I start working on my project tomorrow! I'm registered under the name "Eight of Swords". For inspiration, I put on my ambient station on Pandora - which I haven't listened to in a long time. Good stuff. I'll probably listen to it a lot this month to keep my mind in the zone, and constantly hearing new stuff, getting new ideas. I hope my project turns out well.
Well, it's quiet now - very quiet. I hope the power comes on eventually, or else I won't have the distortion and feedback I need. But it could be hours. Not much left to do, so I should go to bed. For once, I'll enjoy a natural sleep with no lights at all (except the dim light that'll creep through the blankets as the daylight grows), and no sounds to disturb me (especially not the super loud fan on the computer!). I just hope I don't oversleep, without having the alarm set. If the power does come back on before I wake up, it'll probably wake me up then I can settle things before drifting back to sleep. For now, I'm not gonna worry about it. I'll just enjoy the rare electronic solitude. And so, I will now blow out the candle and crawl under the warm covers of my bed. Good night!
23 January, 2008
Journal 006
Stone Alone
After a long period of slow progress, I've finally got back up to speed and am nearing the end of the Rolling Stones auto-biography Stone Alone, by bassist Bill Wyman. I'm anxious to finish it mostly because it's not my book, and I've had it since probably around Thanksgiving. The content is unquestionably fascinating, but it's a very tough read. The chapters are really long, and being a history as opposed to a narrative, the flow at times can be challenging. But if you're up to the task, the book provides endless insight into the early era of the band, covering their rise to prominence in the sixties, and, judging from how much is left of the book, probably right up to the death of founding member Brian Jones. That's something that just struck me when I realized it - I had originally thought that the title 'Stone Alone' referred to Bill Wyman, since it was his book. But no, Brian Jones is the Stone Alone, and this book paints a fairly detailed picture of his journey from proud leader of the band to paranoid outcast - without ignoring any of the other important angles on the band. It still amazes me how many girls those Stones had access to...
Burning Man - Travel Plans
In other news, I spent a lot of time the other day mapping out the route to Burning Man on Google Maps. Playing around with maps like that really fascinates me, although it's frustrating when Google Maps starts slowing down and taking forever to respond. I'm not saying I have the route finalized or anything, but I've got a good idea of what the journey will include. Luckily, in this age of interstate highways, driving across the country doesn't have to be terribly complicated. Turns out, I-80, which is less than an hour north of Pittsburgh, runs straightway across the country, right through Reno, Nevada, the closest major city to the desert playa where Burning Man takes place. Here's what I've worked out so far:
Chicago appears to be about an eight hour drive from Pittsburgh. That seems like a good start to me for the first day of travel. I'm not entirely certain about the logistics of stopping over in a major city, but I have to admit I'm intrigued by the idea of maybe dining at the original location of Uno's, if that's a possibility. From there, it looks to be 27 hours of driving to Reno, through Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming (where I-80 reaches its highest elevation), Utah (straight through Salt Lake City, then across the Great Salt Lake Desert), then finally into barren Nevada. I don't know that there's anything along that path particularly worth taking note of, beside the scenery in general, so I figure we can take it from city to city, stopping at a few places along the way to sleep (not counting breaks). I'm thinking 27 hours is quite probably too much to do in two days, but three days should be doable. I will undoubtedly work out more specifics later.
As for the way back, I've already mentioned the Rachel, Nevada plan (visiting, and, ideally, staying at, the Little A'Le'Inn). To get there from Reno is a good 6 hour drive. From there, the best path seems to be an alternate route that cuts across the lower part of Utah, into Colorado and through Denver, before meeting back up with I-80 just across the Nebraska border. From Rachel to Denver is about 12 hours. Maybe doable, maybe a bit long, I'm not sure. I don't know of anything important in Denver, anyway. Other than that, it's about 14/15 hours back to Chicago, and about 8 more hours from there to home. Four days should be enough, although, if we pick a slower pace, I don't see that being a huge problem, since there should be no terrible rush to get home. (Basically I'm setting my comfortability limit here at 10 hours of driving a day - that's 10 hours worth of miles, not including breaks and maybe traffic and stuff. It's hard to say for sure, since this will be the first time I've taken on a driving challenge this extensive, but I've done 8 hours in a single day before, and I'm fairly comfortable with that. Of course, in this case, it'll be multiple days in a row of long hours on the road. But that's what it's all about, isn't it? I think I'm up to the challenge, provided the car does its part...). I considered picking a different route back home to expand the experience, but at that point, after the festival, I think getting home will be looking like a good plan. At any rate, it will definitely be a pilgrimage.
Sleep Patterns
My sleeping patterns have been a little irritating lately. Just a little bit back, I was tired enough that in the small hours of the morning, I could fall asleep quite easily (and quite comfortably) for something of a nap. But even now, when the morning comes on, I have a hard time falling asleep. My body gets exhausted, and I reach a point around 8am where I can't stand sitting at the computer anymore and I have to crawl into bed. But even when I do - and it feels great - my mind is still running wild, and I have a hard time shutting it off. It's like, I can easily get my mind to rest during the night, but while my body gets exhausted when the sun rises, my mind seems to be running at full power. It's troublesome. Do you know how much I wish sleeping was as easy as flipping a switch? Imagine how much easier it would be to get a good night's sleep!
I partly wondered if my trouble had something to do with the light leaking in through the blinds on the huge window in my room. I've mostly gotten used to it, but sometimes it still bugs me a little. I also happen to have gotten into the habit of only sleeping lying on one side - facing away from the window, which is unfortunately right next to my bed anyway. The worst part is the slit at the edge of the window, along the side - that's where the most light gets in. The blinds block the light coming straight in, but it's like a solar festival along the edges! Anyhow, last night (yesterday morning, to most people in this area) I put up some blankets across the whole face of the window, just to see if the darkness would help me sleep. There's still some light that seeps through the blankets, but the room's a lot darker now than it was, and I put up a blanket over that pesky edge, blocking out the most annoying area. We'll see if it makes a decided difference after a few days trying it out.
You might ask why I didn't have the blankets up in the first place - well, the main reason is that I love windows, and it really goes against my intuition to block a window up. Even though the blinds stay closed and most of my days are at night when there's nothing to see out the window anyway. And even though my window has a terrible view. Not only is it facing north, which means the least direct sunlight (I had a room in college that got some serious direct sunlight in the evenings - so I understand what a pain direct sunlight like that can be, but honestly, I liked that situation better than getting *no* direct sunlight - certainly, in the colder months, that sunlight could really help warm up my room, don't you think?), but there's also the matter of the neighbor's big ugly brick side of their house all up in my view. To see anything but brick and other people's windows, I have to lean in close and look out to either side. It really sucks. And it has a real impact on my psychology - being disconnected like that from the outside world. Since I spend so much of my time indoors, despite having a natural affinity for nature, I've come to respect windows quite a lot, since they're my everyday connection to the outer world. I also happen to enjoy sitting in, or even just standing at, windows, just looking out, watching the world, and the weather. So the window situation frequently depresses me, but, and I think I've said this before, there are other things about this room that make it nice, so it's a matter of compromise (not to mention a lack of options - considering my fear of going out into the world and being independent).
After a long period of slow progress, I've finally got back up to speed and am nearing the end of the Rolling Stones auto-biography Stone Alone, by bassist Bill Wyman. I'm anxious to finish it mostly because it's not my book, and I've had it since probably around Thanksgiving. The content is unquestionably fascinating, but it's a very tough read. The chapters are really long, and being a history as opposed to a narrative, the flow at times can be challenging. But if you're up to the task, the book provides endless insight into the early era of the band, covering their rise to prominence in the sixties, and, judging from how much is left of the book, probably right up to the death of founding member Brian Jones. That's something that just struck me when I realized it - I had originally thought that the title 'Stone Alone' referred to Bill Wyman, since it was his book. But no, Brian Jones is the Stone Alone, and this book paints a fairly detailed picture of his journey from proud leader of the band to paranoid outcast - without ignoring any of the other important angles on the band. It still amazes me how many girls those Stones had access to...
Burning Man - Travel Plans
In other news, I spent a lot of time the other day mapping out the route to Burning Man on Google Maps. Playing around with maps like that really fascinates me, although it's frustrating when Google Maps starts slowing down and taking forever to respond. I'm not saying I have the route finalized or anything, but I've got a good idea of what the journey will include. Luckily, in this age of interstate highways, driving across the country doesn't have to be terribly complicated. Turns out, I-80, which is less than an hour north of Pittsburgh, runs straightway across the country, right through Reno, Nevada, the closest major city to the desert playa where Burning Man takes place. Here's what I've worked out so far:
Chicago appears to be about an eight hour drive from Pittsburgh. That seems like a good start to me for the first day of travel. I'm not entirely certain about the logistics of stopping over in a major city, but I have to admit I'm intrigued by the idea of maybe dining at the original location of Uno's, if that's a possibility. From there, it looks to be 27 hours of driving to Reno, through Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming (where I-80 reaches its highest elevation), Utah (straight through Salt Lake City, then across the Great Salt Lake Desert), then finally into barren Nevada. I don't know that there's anything along that path particularly worth taking note of, beside the scenery in general, so I figure we can take it from city to city, stopping at a few places along the way to sleep (not counting breaks). I'm thinking 27 hours is quite probably too much to do in two days, but three days should be doable. I will undoubtedly work out more specifics later.
As for the way back, I've already mentioned the Rachel, Nevada plan (visiting, and, ideally, staying at, the Little A'Le'Inn). To get there from Reno is a good 6 hour drive. From there, the best path seems to be an alternate route that cuts across the lower part of Utah, into Colorado and through Denver, before meeting back up with I-80 just across the Nebraska border. From Rachel to Denver is about 12 hours. Maybe doable, maybe a bit long, I'm not sure. I don't know of anything important in Denver, anyway. Other than that, it's about 14/15 hours back to Chicago, and about 8 more hours from there to home. Four days should be enough, although, if we pick a slower pace, I don't see that being a huge problem, since there should be no terrible rush to get home. (Basically I'm setting my comfortability limit here at 10 hours of driving a day - that's 10 hours worth of miles, not including breaks and maybe traffic and stuff. It's hard to say for sure, since this will be the first time I've taken on a driving challenge this extensive, but I've done 8 hours in a single day before, and I'm fairly comfortable with that. Of course, in this case, it'll be multiple days in a row of long hours on the road. But that's what it's all about, isn't it? I think I'm up to the challenge, provided the car does its part...). I considered picking a different route back home to expand the experience, but at that point, after the festival, I think getting home will be looking like a good plan. At any rate, it will definitely be a pilgrimage.
Sleep Patterns
My sleeping patterns have been a little irritating lately. Just a little bit back, I was tired enough that in the small hours of the morning, I could fall asleep quite easily (and quite comfortably) for something of a nap. But even now, when the morning comes on, I have a hard time falling asleep. My body gets exhausted, and I reach a point around 8am where I can't stand sitting at the computer anymore and I have to crawl into bed. But even when I do - and it feels great - my mind is still running wild, and I have a hard time shutting it off. It's like, I can easily get my mind to rest during the night, but while my body gets exhausted when the sun rises, my mind seems to be running at full power. It's troublesome. Do you know how much I wish sleeping was as easy as flipping a switch? Imagine how much easier it would be to get a good night's sleep!
I partly wondered if my trouble had something to do with the light leaking in through the blinds on the huge window in my room. I've mostly gotten used to it, but sometimes it still bugs me a little. I also happen to have gotten into the habit of only sleeping lying on one side - facing away from the window, which is unfortunately right next to my bed anyway. The worst part is the slit at the edge of the window, along the side - that's where the most light gets in. The blinds block the light coming straight in, but it's like a solar festival along the edges! Anyhow, last night (yesterday morning, to most people in this area) I put up some blankets across the whole face of the window, just to see if the darkness would help me sleep. There's still some light that seeps through the blankets, but the room's a lot darker now than it was, and I put up a blanket over that pesky edge, blocking out the most annoying area. We'll see if it makes a decided difference after a few days trying it out.
You might ask why I didn't have the blankets up in the first place - well, the main reason is that I love windows, and it really goes against my intuition to block a window up. Even though the blinds stay closed and most of my days are at night when there's nothing to see out the window anyway. And even though my window has a terrible view. Not only is it facing north, which means the least direct sunlight (I had a room in college that got some serious direct sunlight in the evenings - so I understand what a pain direct sunlight like that can be, but honestly, I liked that situation better than getting *no* direct sunlight - certainly, in the colder months, that sunlight could really help warm up my room, don't you think?), but there's also the matter of the neighbor's big ugly brick side of their house all up in my view. To see anything but brick and other people's windows, I have to lean in close and look out to either side. It really sucks. And it has a real impact on my psychology - being disconnected like that from the outside world. Since I spend so much of my time indoors, despite having a natural affinity for nature, I've come to respect windows quite a lot, since they're my everyday connection to the outer world. I also happen to enjoy sitting in, or even just standing at, windows, just looking out, watching the world, and the weather. So the window situation frequently depresses me, but, and I think I've said this before, there are other things about this room that make it nice, so it's a matter of compromise (not to mention a lack of options - considering my fear of going out into the world and being independent).
09 January, 2008
Journal 003
I know I promised that hippie entry, but now that it's expected of me, I find myself avoiding the task. At any rate, you'll have it by the end of the week, I promise, or else it would have made no sense to do the hippie theme on my music log this week (which I certainly can't change now). In the meantime...
I actually forced myself to go to bed at a reasonable hour yesterday (meaning 7 in the morning instead of 10 in the morning), so I was pretty well-rested. I still got up out of bed at the last minute, though, to hop in the shower and dress for dinner. It was sloppy joe's, which I'm not so thrilled by, and Kraft macaroni n' cheese (the blue box kind), which I'm incredibly thrilled by. I heaped the mac onto my plate and ate a full helping before even considering the sloppies.
I was a little aimless after dinner, but I eventually got around to trying to hook up my guitar directly to my computer, in the hopes of recording some instructional audio tracks for my Quick Riffs web page. It was a failure. I tried plugging each of the holes, and I didn't get any response at all. So I'm not sure what to do now. But at the time, I ended up jamming out a bunch of the riffs with the distortion on my amp, just to convince myself I could still play them all (by the way, no sweat). I guess I kind of exhausted myself that way, and after the amp started getting squeaky for some reason, I shut it off and just lay there on the floor, with the guitar sitting on top of me, for a little while. Just relaxing.
Then, I spent some time reading. I read through the second of the two volumes of School Rumble I got for Christmas. Great series. I guess you know by now that I'm not much into comedies, but this is one of the exceptions. This series actually succeeds at making me laugh every now and then! Plus, this particular volume had one of my favorite scenes from the series - after the fireside dance where Eri dances with Harima, when she's sitting at home, refusing to go to school, partly because she's afraid to show her face after dancing with Harima, and partly because she's utterly confused about her feelings for Harima. The anime series describes the scene as "Eri feeling the blues". Now, considering that Eri is my favorite character in the series, you tell me that's not the perfect scene for me.
After that, I read through some of the books on nude photography I recently received, having ordered them partly as a birthday gift to myself and partly to encourage my interest in the field. There was a risque title on 'the art of rope' (if you know what I mean), which managed to be sexy without being too trashy. I also got a book of poses in the context of nude life drawing, which includes a CD that's supposed to be chock full of poses. I intend to practice some of those and see how well I can hold them for extended periods of time.
Additionally, there was a collection by Jock Sturges, a photographer I've come to admire for his portrayal of real people (as opposed to models) in a naturist context, regardless of age and gender. There seems to have been some controversy surrounding his work; I think the FBI actually charged him for involvement in child pornography, but it was clearly a defamation scheme. Although his photographs hide nothing, they are far from exploitative, and sexuality is never the primary theme, from what I've seen. There's a classic and very human soul in his images, and it seems his subjects have nothing but the greatest respect for him. All the more reason for me to support him.
Around 11 o'clock, after my dad went to bed, I got undressed. Nudity is hard to accommodate during the winter. Even with the heat on indoors, it still tends to be chilly. If it were up to me, I'd just crank up the thermostat until I'm comfortable, but I'm not the head of this household, and I'm not about to begin dictating the temperature of the house. Still, despite the weather being colder than it has been the past two days, it wasn't so bad in the house today. So I decided to go completely nude - no robe, no slippers, no nothing - and it felt great! It was a little chilly in the kitchen when I went to get some food around 1am, but I get the feeling that, unless I was bundled up, I would have actually *felt* colder had I been wearing clothes. It's a funny thing, but I've noticed that my body seems to be able to regulate heat more efficiently without clothing. Maybe I'm just trying to rationalize being nude as much as I can, but that's the feeling I've been getting so far.
My brother showed up in the kitchen, and we ended up having a surprisingly long (at least for me) discussion that was partly engaging, and deeply depressing. Basically, I kept trying to convince him that there were some good things in life worth living for, and at every turn, he shot them down with some counterpoint from his negative perspective. Seriously, I consider myself to be a pretty cynical person, but compared to him, I'm a life-affirming spiritualist or something. And it's really frustrating, too, because you realize that this is really what his life is like, and it honestly sounds like it sucks. You get the impression that, as he often confirms, death would actually be the only positive experience for him. And that really is depressing. I don't even know what to say to that, because it's really hard to embrace that sort of a perspective, and I think I've tried just about everything I can try to convince him otherwise.
The cat was generally being a nuisance during the conversation. Have I mentioned our cat yet in this blog? She's a Siamese. If that doesn't mean anything to you, then let me tell you this - Siamese cats are known for being loud, and being highly dependent upon human companions. In other words, they are ABOMINATIONS of the feline race! Anyhow, this cat in particular is named Sasha, and she's basically my mom's cat, except that my mom abandoned her when my parents divorced some 6 or 7 years ago (allegedly because the place my mom moved into didn't allow pets). And my dad's never been a cat person, so Sasha has really gotten the bad end of the bargain. And because of that, I want really bad to care for her, but there are two problems with that. Firstly, I am not an animal person. You'd think that a naturist, or even just a person who respects nature in general, would be an animal-lover. Well, allow me to be the counterexample that disproves that stereotype. I don't like animals. I think they're dirty, and it bugs me that I can't reason with them. If I don't like the way they're acting, there's very little I can do about it. Which brings me to the second reason I have such a hard time with Sasha. She makes so much freaking noise! She won't quit! Even in the middle of the night! When I'm slipping into the kitchen in the middle of the night, nude and naturally in ninja mode, trying not to attract extra attention, she comes out and starts screaming like a madwoman! I've tried many things to get her to shut up, but most of the time it just makes her more irritable - and louder! The best you can do is endure it, and wait for her to get tired. Which isn't a very good compromise, in my mind.
Anyhow, that's the situation. I have a hard time hating her (since I really am a kind person), but I have a hard time liking her, too. She ended up scratching me (inadvertently - she may be obnoxious, but she's not at all violent) quite significantly across the ribs. This is one of those situations where I would have benefited from having a little armor. Luckily, it didn't really hurt. I just hope it doesn't leave a mark. At any rate, the most it's gonna do is make me even more conscious of keeping that cat away from me. It certainly hasn't hurt my enthusiasm for being nude.
After the convo, a storm started kicking up outside. Not so much a winter storm, but more your typical wind and rain storm, with an emphasis on the wind. I still hear the wind howling out there now. When the wind gets in the back door, the space between the inner and outer doors creates a kind of wind tunnel, which makes some rather loud noises, that can be quite unsettling when you aren't expecting them. It's been howling quite a bit the last few hours. There was a very brief period when the storm went into overdrive. I went downstairs and peered through the blinds on the front door - the rain was falling so hard it was like a thick fog! Naturally, I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. I absolutely love storms - I always have. Something about the energy of nature in those aggressive moments just ignites my excitement. The porch was wet under my feet, even standing just in front of the door, well under the overhang of the roof. I could feel the rain sprinkling against my skin, being sprayed almost horizontally by the heavy winds. It felt exhilarating, and I would have just loved to have gone out and danced through it, but it was much too cold - too cold even to stand there for more than about a minute. Still, that minute was totally worth it. Those kinds of moments are one of the things I live for. They're one of the things that makes life for me worth living.
I actually forced myself to go to bed at a reasonable hour yesterday (meaning 7 in the morning instead of 10 in the morning), so I was pretty well-rested. I still got up out of bed at the last minute, though, to hop in the shower and dress for dinner. It was sloppy joe's, which I'm not so thrilled by, and Kraft macaroni n' cheese (the blue box kind), which I'm incredibly thrilled by. I heaped the mac onto my plate and ate a full helping before even considering the sloppies.
I was a little aimless after dinner, but I eventually got around to trying to hook up my guitar directly to my computer, in the hopes of recording some instructional audio tracks for my Quick Riffs web page. It was a failure. I tried plugging each of the holes, and I didn't get any response at all. So I'm not sure what to do now. But at the time, I ended up jamming out a bunch of the riffs with the distortion on my amp, just to convince myself I could still play them all (by the way, no sweat). I guess I kind of exhausted myself that way, and after the amp started getting squeaky for some reason, I shut it off and just lay there on the floor, with the guitar sitting on top of me, for a little while. Just relaxing.
Then, I spent some time reading. I read through the second of the two volumes of School Rumble I got for Christmas. Great series. I guess you know by now that I'm not much into comedies, but this is one of the exceptions. This series actually succeeds at making me laugh every now and then! Plus, this particular volume had one of my favorite scenes from the series - after the fireside dance where Eri dances with Harima, when she's sitting at home, refusing to go to school, partly because she's afraid to show her face after dancing with Harima, and partly because she's utterly confused about her feelings for Harima. The anime series describes the scene as "Eri feeling the blues". Now, considering that Eri is my favorite character in the series, you tell me that's not the perfect scene for me.
After that, I read through some of the books on nude photography I recently received, having ordered them partly as a birthday gift to myself and partly to encourage my interest in the field. There was a risque title on 'the art of rope' (if you know what I mean), which managed to be sexy without being too trashy. I also got a book of poses in the context of nude life drawing, which includes a CD that's supposed to be chock full of poses. I intend to practice some of those and see how well I can hold them for extended periods of time.
Additionally, there was a collection by Jock Sturges, a photographer I've come to admire for his portrayal of real people (as opposed to models) in a naturist context, regardless of age and gender. There seems to have been some controversy surrounding his work; I think the FBI actually charged him for involvement in child pornography, but it was clearly a defamation scheme. Although his photographs hide nothing, they are far from exploitative, and sexuality is never the primary theme, from what I've seen. There's a classic and very human soul in his images, and it seems his subjects have nothing but the greatest respect for him. All the more reason for me to support him.
Around 11 o'clock, after my dad went to bed, I got undressed. Nudity is hard to accommodate during the winter. Even with the heat on indoors, it still tends to be chilly. If it were up to me, I'd just crank up the thermostat until I'm comfortable, but I'm not the head of this household, and I'm not about to begin dictating the temperature of the house. Still, despite the weather being colder than it has been the past two days, it wasn't so bad in the house today. So I decided to go completely nude - no robe, no slippers, no nothing - and it felt great! It was a little chilly in the kitchen when I went to get some food around 1am, but I get the feeling that, unless I was bundled up, I would have actually *felt* colder had I been wearing clothes. It's a funny thing, but I've noticed that my body seems to be able to regulate heat more efficiently without clothing. Maybe I'm just trying to rationalize being nude as much as I can, but that's the feeling I've been getting so far.
My brother showed up in the kitchen, and we ended up having a surprisingly long (at least for me) discussion that was partly engaging, and deeply depressing. Basically, I kept trying to convince him that there were some good things in life worth living for, and at every turn, he shot them down with some counterpoint from his negative perspective. Seriously, I consider myself to be a pretty cynical person, but compared to him, I'm a life-affirming spiritualist or something. And it's really frustrating, too, because you realize that this is really what his life is like, and it honestly sounds like it sucks. You get the impression that, as he often confirms, death would actually be the only positive experience for him. And that really is depressing. I don't even know what to say to that, because it's really hard to embrace that sort of a perspective, and I think I've tried just about everything I can try to convince him otherwise.
The cat was generally being a nuisance during the conversation. Have I mentioned our cat yet in this blog? She's a Siamese. If that doesn't mean anything to you, then let me tell you this - Siamese cats are known for being loud, and being highly dependent upon human companions. In other words, they are ABOMINATIONS of the feline race! Anyhow, this cat in particular is named Sasha, and she's basically my mom's cat, except that my mom abandoned her when my parents divorced some 6 or 7 years ago (allegedly because the place my mom moved into didn't allow pets). And my dad's never been a cat person, so Sasha has really gotten the bad end of the bargain. And because of that, I want really bad to care for her, but there are two problems with that. Firstly, I am not an animal person. You'd think that a naturist, or even just a person who respects nature in general, would be an animal-lover. Well, allow me to be the counterexample that disproves that stereotype. I don't like animals. I think they're dirty, and it bugs me that I can't reason with them. If I don't like the way they're acting, there's very little I can do about it. Which brings me to the second reason I have such a hard time with Sasha. She makes so much freaking noise! She won't quit! Even in the middle of the night! When I'm slipping into the kitchen in the middle of the night, nude and naturally in ninja mode, trying not to attract extra attention, she comes out and starts screaming like a madwoman! I've tried many things to get her to shut up, but most of the time it just makes her more irritable - and louder! The best you can do is endure it, and wait for her to get tired. Which isn't a very good compromise, in my mind.
Anyhow, that's the situation. I have a hard time hating her (since I really am a kind person), but I have a hard time liking her, too. She ended up scratching me (inadvertently - she may be obnoxious, but she's not at all violent) quite significantly across the ribs. This is one of those situations where I would have benefited from having a little armor. Luckily, it didn't really hurt. I just hope it doesn't leave a mark. At any rate, the most it's gonna do is make me even more conscious of keeping that cat away from me. It certainly hasn't hurt my enthusiasm for being nude.
After the convo, a storm started kicking up outside. Not so much a winter storm, but more your typical wind and rain storm, with an emphasis on the wind. I still hear the wind howling out there now. When the wind gets in the back door, the space between the inner and outer doors creates a kind of wind tunnel, which makes some rather loud noises, that can be quite unsettling when you aren't expecting them. It's been howling quite a bit the last few hours. There was a very brief period when the storm went into overdrive. I went downstairs and peered through the blinds on the front door - the rain was falling so hard it was like a thick fog! Naturally, I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. I absolutely love storms - I always have. Something about the energy of nature in those aggressive moments just ignites my excitement. The porch was wet under my feet, even standing just in front of the door, well under the overhang of the roof. I could feel the rain sprinkling against my skin, being sprayed almost horizontally by the heavy winds. It felt exhilarating, and I would have just loved to have gone out and danced through it, but it was much too cold - too cold even to stand there for more than about a minute. Still, that minute was totally worth it. Those kinds of moments are one of the things I live for. They're one of the things that makes life for me worth living.
04 January, 2008
Obscenity Laws & Body Freedom (or Communing With Nature)
"Can I walk down your street naked, if I want to?"
- Moby Grape - Naked, If I Want To
Indoors, your nudity is limited by the amount of privacy you have, as well as the attitude of the people you live with, and whether or not they accept your lifestyle, regardless of whether or not they join in. But step outdoors, and you've opened a whole new can of worms. Laws and customs vary from place to place, but I would wager that there are very few (if any) places on this planet where you could casually step out into a public area that is not specifically designated to be nudist-friendly, and not as part of some kind of artistic or political expression, wearing nothing but your skin, freely exposed to the air and the sight of others, without incurring considerably inhibitive negative reactions from the forces of authority in that particular jurisdiction. Granted, this is not something I have tested myself, but you can see that I believe it well enough not to particularly want to.
So what's the big problem with a naked person walking down the street?
"A person commits indecent exposure if that person exposes his or her genitals in any public place or in any place where there are present other persons under circumstances in which he or she knows or should know that this conduct is likely to offend, affront or alarm."
Now, there's a huge difference between happily reveling in the sense of freedom that casual nudity gives you, and walking up to a stranger and exposing yourself for some kind of thrill. The difference has to do with respect. In the second case, you're actually specifically disturbing someone and subjecting them to a kind of advance that they have no power to stop. So what's offensive about a quick flash of the genitals that's not offensive about putting them out there for the whole world to see? The point really has nothing to do with the nudity itself. It's about bothering a person. What's worse - walking past someone while completely nude, and politely ignoring them (unless they specifically call for your attention), or walking right up to them while fully clothed, and soliciting them with attention, without even considering whether or not they want it? Nudity really should not be the issue here, but because people have been predisposed to be offended, affronted, or alarmed by nudity alone, it undeservedly becomes an indecent state of being.
This begs the question of whether or not the naked human body is inherently indecent. And depending who you ask, you'll get a wide range of opinions. I personally think that there is nothing inherently indecent about the nude body, only that there is much potential for it to be used for indecent purposes - depending on a person's actions, not their being. For example, there is nothing inherently indecent about the genitals (despite cultural conditioning). Yet, if you come up to me and stick them in my face, that is incredibly rude, and would constitute indecent behavior, in my mind.
But on the other hand, there are people who think that even the sight of the genitals is lewd, and that the mind that chose to expose them in such a manner that they could be seen by another is by default up to no good. The trouble is, you can't realistically expect to convince everyone of a certain viewpoint. I would be happy to see nudity become more accepted and well respected in society in the future, but it just wouldn't be practical to expect every person to accept it the way I do. And so, in the end, it all comes down to basic individual rights. Where does my right to be nude end, and your right to not be exposed to naked people begin?
But that just seems to lead to a dead end. Should nude people have to be segregated? Should they only be free to practice their chosen lifestyle in secluded camps and within walled resorts? Should they have to cover their true beliefs and feelings in the clothing of the majority while dealing with the rest of the world? Should people be judged by the covering on their skin? I just don't feel that that's right. I should be able to walk down the street naked, if I want to. It's not like I'm doing it to try to shock or offend people. I'm just being me. What's so wrong with that?
I've fantasized about living in a nudist community - I'm talking not just a vacation resort or a weeklong camp, but something like a whole nudist village, just like a normal town, but with freer ideas about nudity. You could go to the store nude, catch a movie at the local theatre nude, take a walk through the neighborhood nude, drive to work nude and then work all day nude, head out to a fancy restaurant and eat nude. You wouldn't have to be nude, as it's not always practical, but the important thing is that nobody would think (or look) twice if you were. There's probably a lot of complicated issues to be dealt with in the actualization of an idea like that, but frankly, I think it could be amazing. Why should we be so uptight? As long as it's not actually hurting anyone, there should be no problem. Apparently there's a place like that in France, but I imagine it must be pretty expensive to actually live there. And then, supposedly, there are hippie communes, but I don't know how expansive they are, or how much of a 'normal town' kind of atmosphere they can accomplish.
Communing With Nature
So, in the meantime, there's this thing called "secret naturism". There unfortunately seems to be some stigma attached to it within the regular naturist community, though, due to the understandably questionable intents of the secret naturists. Although there may be some who do it for questionable reasons, I think it can also be a very positive thing. The basic idea is to circumvent the unreasonable obscenity laws by going nude outside of designated areas (kind of like free-range nudity), but doing so in a secretive manner so as not to get caught. One of the great advantages secret naturism has for closet nudists is that it allows the nudist to experiment, and go further than he/she otherwise would, without having to expose his/her secret (assuming he/she does not get caught, which is always a risk). One of the disadvantages of secret naturism that most open nudists tend to cite is the fact that those who practice it are reinforcing the idea that their nudism is something they feel that they have to hide - which can give the whole lifestyle, secret or not, a more negative image to outsiders.
Now, I'm on the fence on that issue. I think nudism is something that nudists should never have to hide. But that's an ideal, and I'm a realist. I understand, that in this society, there are times and situations when it's practical to keep your nudism a secret. There are absolutely times and places to further the cause of nudism by putting yourself into the social consciousness. But there are also times and places where it is in your best interest to stay out of sight and out of mind. And that's where secret naturism comes into play.
I can confess that 1) I've practiced a little secret naturism, but that 2) my boundaries are depressingly limited. My desire for the thrill of going further is balanced by my methodical evaluation of the sheer risk of getting caught. So only twice have I actually wandered beyond the boundaries of this plot of land, and then not very far, or for very long.
I read about people who have secluded backyards (or 'gardens', in the UK), and private swimming pools, where they can swim and sunbathe nude - outdoors, but within the protection of their private property - without fear of being seen and reported to the authorities for ridiculous reasons. But I currently live in a suburban warren, where the houses aren't separated by very much space, and the foliage is rarely thick enough for any kind of reliable shielding from unwanted eyes. And though it gets quiet at night, it's not unheard of for someone in the immediate neighborhood to be going out or coming home, or simply stirring, in the middle of the night.
Just the same, my experiences are limited to the deep night, when it is quiet, while still always on a constant vigil. No warm sun for me. But you might be surprised how well your naked body can cope with the temperature of the air around you. Of course, there's a reasonable limit to that, but it does tend to get rather warm during the summer, even throughout the night. Cloudy (but dry) nights and new moons are best, although the allure of basking in the white light of the full moon is hard to resist, despite the drastically increased visibility (and the potential for other people to be drawn to it as well). For once, I almost wish I had darker skin, as my light skin shows up pretty bright against the dark backgrounds of the night, even when there is little light to be found. Dancing naked in the rain can be an exhilarating experience (and certainly more pleasant than doing so in clothing), but only when the temperature, and the rain itself, is warm enough. Otherwise, it could become quite unpleasant, instead.
Being outside nude can be very relaxing as well as very thrilling, depending on the night's conditions, and the current condition of the mind. Though doing so tends to leave me wishing there was actually something for me to do while I was out there. I'd love to go for a walk, but being out on the streets is incredibly risky. Anything I might think to do is usually foiled by the risk of either making noise, or needing light - both decided attention grabbers. Still, just being out there is an experience not worth giving up...
- Moby Grape - Naked, If I Want To
Indoors, your nudity is limited by the amount of privacy you have, as well as the attitude of the people you live with, and whether or not they accept your lifestyle, regardless of whether or not they join in. But step outdoors, and you've opened a whole new can of worms. Laws and customs vary from place to place, but I would wager that there are very few (if any) places on this planet where you could casually step out into a public area that is not specifically designated to be nudist-friendly, and not as part of some kind of artistic or political expression, wearing nothing but your skin, freely exposed to the air and the sight of others, without incurring considerably inhibitive negative reactions from the forces of authority in that particular jurisdiction. Granted, this is not something I have tested myself, but you can see that I believe it well enough not to particularly want to.
So what's the big problem with a naked person walking down the street?
"A person commits indecent exposure if that person exposes his or her genitals in any public place or in any place where there are present other persons under circumstances in which he or she knows or should know that this conduct is likely to offend, affront or alarm."
Now, there's a huge difference between happily reveling in the sense of freedom that casual nudity gives you, and walking up to a stranger and exposing yourself for some kind of thrill. The difference has to do with respect. In the second case, you're actually specifically disturbing someone and subjecting them to a kind of advance that they have no power to stop. So what's offensive about a quick flash of the genitals that's not offensive about putting them out there for the whole world to see? The point really has nothing to do with the nudity itself. It's about bothering a person. What's worse - walking past someone while completely nude, and politely ignoring them (unless they specifically call for your attention), or walking right up to them while fully clothed, and soliciting them with attention, without even considering whether or not they want it? Nudity really should not be the issue here, but because people have been predisposed to be offended, affronted, or alarmed by nudity alone, it undeservedly becomes an indecent state of being.
This begs the question of whether or not the naked human body is inherently indecent. And depending who you ask, you'll get a wide range of opinions. I personally think that there is nothing inherently indecent about the nude body, only that there is much potential for it to be used for indecent purposes - depending on a person's actions, not their being. For example, there is nothing inherently indecent about the genitals (despite cultural conditioning). Yet, if you come up to me and stick them in my face, that is incredibly rude, and would constitute indecent behavior, in my mind.
But on the other hand, there are people who think that even the sight of the genitals is lewd, and that the mind that chose to expose them in such a manner that they could be seen by another is by default up to no good. The trouble is, you can't realistically expect to convince everyone of a certain viewpoint. I would be happy to see nudity become more accepted and well respected in society in the future, but it just wouldn't be practical to expect every person to accept it the way I do. And so, in the end, it all comes down to basic individual rights. Where does my right to be nude end, and your right to not be exposed to naked people begin?
But that just seems to lead to a dead end. Should nude people have to be segregated? Should they only be free to practice their chosen lifestyle in secluded camps and within walled resorts? Should they have to cover their true beliefs and feelings in the clothing of the majority while dealing with the rest of the world? Should people be judged by the covering on their skin? I just don't feel that that's right. I should be able to walk down the street naked, if I want to. It's not like I'm doing it to try to shock or offend people. I'm just being me. What's so wrong with that?
I've fantasized about living in a nudist community - I'm talking not just a vacation resort or a weeklong camp, but something like a whole nudist village, just like a normal town, but with freer ideas about nudity. You could go to the store nude, catch a movie at the local theatre nude, take a walk through the neighborhood nude, drive to work nude and then work all day nude, head out to a fancy restaurant and eat nude. You wouldn't have to be nude, as it's not always practical, but the important thing is that nobody would think (or look) twice if you were. There's probably a lot of complicated issues to be dealt with in the actualization of an idea like that, but frankly, I think it could be amazing. Why should we be so uptight? As long as it's not actually hurting anyone, there should be no problem. Apparently there's a place like that in France, but I imagine it must be pretty expensive to actually live there. And then, supposedly, there are hippie communes, but I don't know how expansive they are, or how much of a 'normal town' kind of atmosphere they can accomplish.
Communing With Nature
So, in the meantime, there's this thing called "secret naturism". There unfortunately seems to be some stigma attached to it within the regular naturist community, though, due to the understandably questionable intents of the secret naturists. Although there may be some who do it for questionable reasons, I think it can also be a very positive thing. The basic idea is to circumvent the unreasonable obscenity laws by going nude outside of designated areas (kind of like free-range nudity), but doing so in a secretive manner so as not to get caught. One of the great advantages secret naturism has for closet nudists is that it allows the nudist to experiment, and go further than he/she otherwise would, without having to expose his/her secret (assuming he/she does not get caught, which is always a risk). One of the disadvantages of secret naturism that most open nudists tend to cite is the fact that those who practice it are reinforcing the idea that their nudism is something they feel that they have to hide - which can give the whole lifestyle, secret or not, a more negative image to outsiders.
Now, I'm on the fence on that issue. I think nudism is something that nudists should never have to hide. But that's an ideal, and I'm a realist. I understand, that in this society, there are times and situations when it's practical to keep your nudism a secret. There are absolutely times and places to further the cause of nudism by putting yourself into the social consciousness. But there are also times and places where it is in your best interest to stay out of sight and out of mind. And that's where secret naturism comes into play.
I can confess that 1) I've practiced a little secret naturism, but that 2) my boundaries are depressingly limited. My desire for the thrill of going further is balanced by my methodical evaluation of the sheer risk of getting caught. So only twice have I actually wandered beyond the boundaries of this plot of land, and then not very far, or for very long.
I read about people who have secluded backyards (or 'gardens', in the UK), and private swimming pools, where they can swim and sunbathe nude - outdoors, but within the protection of their private property - without fear of being seen and reported to the authorities for ridiculous reasons. But I currently live in a suburban warren, where the houses aren't separated by very much space, and the foliage is rarely thick enough for any kind of reliable shielding from unwanted eyes. And though it gets quiet at night, it's not unheard of for someone in the immediate neighborhood to be going out or coming home, or simply stirring, in the middle of the night.
Just the same, my experiences are limited to the deep night, when it is quiet, while still always on a constant vigil. No warm sun for me. But you might be surprised how well your naked body can cope with the temperature of the air around you. Of course, there's a reasonable limit to that, but it does tend to get rather warm during the summer, even throughout the night. Cloudy (but dry) nights and new moons are best, although the allure of basking in the white light of the full moon is hard to resist, despite the drastically increased visibility (and the potential for other people to be drawn to it as well). For once, I almost wish I had darker skin, as my light skin shows up pretty bright against the dark backgrounds of the night, even when there is little light to be found. Dancing naked in the rain can be an exhilarating experience (and certainly more pleasant than doing so in clothing), but only when the temperature, and the rain itself, is warm enough. Otherwise, it could become quite unpleasant, instead.
Being outside nude can be very relaxing as well as very thrilling, depending on the night's conditions, and the current condition of the mind. Though doing so tends to leave me wishing there was actually something for me to do while I was out there. I'd love to go for a walk, but being out on the streets is incredibly risky. Anything I might think to do is usually foiled by the risk of either making noise, or needing light - both decided attention grabbers. Still, just being out there is an experience not worth giving up...
21 December, 2007
Alternative Spirituality (or Dual Nature)
Forward: To me, spirituality is not sitting in congregation listening to a man in velvety robes preach from a book written over a thousand years ago about a man who claimed he was god. To me, spirituality is stripping nude and frollicking in a grassy meadow, feeling the warmth of the sun and the movement of the air on my skin, feeling connected to the Earth, and recognizing the natural beauty that surrounds me, and is within me. This sort of experience is less about ritual and transcendence, as it is about spontaneity and being.
Since the winter solstice is upon us, I figure this is a good time to talk about my newfound spirituality.
I am a logical person. Beside Truth, I have a lot of respect for Reason. One of the most frustrating experiences within the social arena is trying to have a discussion with a person who ignores or even flat out rejects logic and reason. I believe that logic is the power of man, and that faith is the antithesis of it. Rather than accept things at face value, I take a skeptical view of life, requiring reasonable proof to believe in something. I believe that, much like in the scientific world, morals and traditions exist to be questioned, to be tested, and when not sufficient, they exist to be replaced, with morals and traditions that make more sense in light of the evidence we possess about ourselves and about the world. These are all reasons why I am an atheist.
My family is Christian, and I was raised as a Christian. When I got to the right age, I went through 'Sunday School', or 'Bible Study', or whatever you call it in your neck of the woods, with the goal being Confirmation. Just like regular school, this is not something I did because I wanted it, or believed in it; it was simply expected of me, and I complied. I wrote my essay which was supposed to demonstrate my conviction, understanding, and faith in the things that I was taught in church, but I didn't believe in any of it. Rather than being a deeply spiritual confirmation of my inner feelings, I was paying lip service to the administrators so I could get my 'badge' and graduate from the church. Needless to say, after Confirmation, I stopped going to church.
Since then, I've developed a strong rejection of the Christian notion of the 'Lord', and the reason and logic within me has led me to flat out deny the existence of a 'God'. Though I am a devoted atheist, I don't believe that such a stance is incompatible with spirituality. I think spirituality is an important aspect to life, but it doesn't have anything to do with religion in the conventional sense, and it doesn't have to be built on faith, or contrary to reason. I believe that spirituality is a very personal thing, that should be decided individually by every person, without pressure from institutionalized religions.
I talked briefly with a friend of a friend once, who was deeply religious. She was Christian, and at the time, I considered myself the same. She asked me how long I had been Christian, and I told her that I was always Christian, that I had been raised that way. She told me that before a person can become truly Christian, they must have some kind of spiritual awakening, an experience akin to what Confirmation was meant to be. At that time I looked at myself and realized that despite how I had been raised, I wasn't really a Christian. Not in my heart.
For awhile, I explored alternative religions, trying to find something that fit cozily into my own belief structure. I discovered Zen Buddhism, which I still carry a great deal of respect for. But though Zen stimulates me intellectually, it doesn't quite move my soul. [One problem I have with meditation is that it is so difficult for me to empty my mind of thought. It's not a natural state for me. My mind is constantly swarming, constantly. I could benefit from a little emptiness now and again, but ultimately, it's not me. It's not who I am. My thoughts are the primary aspect of my existence.] It doesn't provide me peace with the absurd structure of existence. It echoes some of my ideas about the nature of being, but though I've felt 'enlightened' at various times, it doesn't put my soul to rest. Something is missing. That mysticism, that excitement, that esoteric wisdom. I kept looking. Little did I know that it had already found me, though I had been blind to it.
Somewhere along my journey, I met and consorted with a fire witch. She was a practitioner of the arts, known and unknown. Something in me was drawn to her, but it took me too long to discover the magnet within. I captured her affections with a novelty tarot deck. She opened the door for me, and gave me the key, but I wasn't ready to step through it yet. As a musician, she guided me when I decided to become a guitarist, and taught me my first chords. What she represents to me is a freer, intuitive existence. Something different from the binding structure of reason. But more appealing than faith. She showed me the bridge between the shores, and I have been taking my time studying each side.
I have spent a lot of time studying math and science. They were always my best subjects. History, English, they were too interpretative. I liked the idea that a problem had a specific solution and the way to reach it was to apply a specific algorithm. You were either right or wrong, and having the answer simply meant having the appropriate knowledge and piecing it together in the right way. I learned rather late that this was a simplistic and idealistic perspective. There is as much intuition and interpretation in science as there is in the arts. That doesn't mean that it's equally capricious, but my thought was that, if I'm going to have to use my feelings to get by, why not enter a field where my feelings are intrinsically 'right', rather than having to be measured against all sorts of ordered structures and chains of logic? So I dropped science and picked up art (specifically, music). Of course, that totally screwed up the life plan that I had set up, up to that point.
There's another factor that contributed to my crossing that bridge from the land of reason to the land of feeling. In a surreal experience, I met my doppelganger. But the difference between us was clear. She represented everything I wanted to be. Beauty, purity, intelligence, and actualized potential. Looking into the eyes of the doppelganger, I saw myself reflected in the form of a great void. I was being made obsolete. With that other me existing in this world and doing more and better than I could ever do, my existence was meaningless. So I had to change. I had to become someone else. I opened my mind to the possibility of drastic change. And most importantly, the despair that filled my heart opened up channels of emotional energy within me. I discovered the power of feeling, and how important it was to the experience of life, even on the dark side. I decided that if I became a musician, I could share that energy with other people, and help them to open up to the cosmic energies of the universe. That became my conviction.
Keeping this discussion on track, it was the cosmic energies of the universe that led me to where my spirit currently rests. The motion of the 'heavenly' bodies, the sun and the moon, and their influence on the very nature of reality around us. The passing of the seasons, the various moods of the weather, and the latent energy all around us. This had always been the aspect of life that inspired me most. I rejected myself from the joys of a social existence. I learned to respect not man, but nature. Trees, and sky, and wind. These are the divine. God, if there was such a thing, does not exist in the form of man, and he does not speak in words. God is in the details, but - and this is where many religions make the fatal mistake - he does not exist beyond that. Nor should he. Even using a word like 'he' to describe god is misleading. There is no god, there is only existence. And the beautiful part of that existence is what represents spirituality to me.
God is the rain on the rooftop. God is the lightning that flashes through the sky, and the booming thunder that follows. God is the sun, bright and warm, that fosters life. God is the moon, that awakens mystery within the heart, and guides us on the paths of darkness. God is the wind that whistles through the trees, that screams between the hills, that strips the leaves from the trees in the fall. God is the trees that clothe the wasteland, and feed the air. God is the bubbling and cascading stream. God is the raging river. God is the ocean, deep and vast. God is the sky, that generates the rain. God is the limitless void, that exists between the stars. God is the chaos, and also the order, that can be found in nature. God is life as much as he is death, with no preference towards either. God is also man, who possesses the profound power of self-realization. He is none of these and all of these. And to speak of him apart from these things is to misunderstand him.
Since the winter solstice is upon us, I figure this is a good time to talk about my newfound spirituality.
I am a logical person. Beside Truth, I have a lot of respect for Reason. One of the most frustrating experiences within the social arena is trying to have a discussion with a person who ignores or even flat out rejects logic and reason. I believe that logic is the power of man, and that faith is the antithesis of it. Rather than accept things at face value, I take a skeptical view of life, requiring reasonable proof to believe in something. I believe that, much like in the scientific world, morals and traditions exist to be questioned, to be tested, and when not sufficient, they exist to be replaced, with morals and traditions that make more sense in light of the evidence we possess about ourselves and about the world. These are all reasons why I am an atheist.
My family is Christian, and I was raised as a Christian. When I got to the right age, I went through 'Sunday School', or 'Bible Study', or whatever you call it in your neck of the woods, with the goal being Confirmation. Just like regular school, this is not something I did because I wanted it, or believed in it; it was simply expected of me, and I complied. I wrote my essay which was supposed to demonstrate my conviction, understanding, and faith in the things that I was taught in church, but I didn't believe in any of it. Rather than being a deeply spiritual confirmation of my inner feelings, I was paying lip service to the administrators so I could get my 'badge' and graduate from the church. Needless to say, after Confirmation, I stopped going to church.
Since then, I've developed a strong rejection of the Christian notion of the 'Lord', and the reason and logic within me has led me to flat out deny the existence of a 'God'. Though I am a devoted atheist, I don't believe that such a stance is incompatible with spirituality. I think spirituality is an important aspect to life, but it doesn't have anything to do with religion in the conventional sense, and it doesn't have to be built on faith, or contrary to reason. I believe that spirituality is a very personal thing, that should be decided individually by every person, without pressure from institutionalized religions.
I talked briefly with a friend of a friend once, who was deeply religious. She was Christian, and at the time, I considered myself the same. She asked me how long I had been Christian, and I told her that I was always Christian, that I had been raised that way. She told me that before a person can become truly Christian, they must have some kind of spiritual awakening, an experience akin to what Confirmation was meant to be. At that time I looked at myself and realized that despite how I had been raised, I wasn't really a Christian. Not in my heart.
For awhile, I explored alternative religions, trying to find something that fit cozily into my own belief structure. I discovered Zen Buddhism, which I still carry a great deal of respect for. But though Zen stimulates me intellectually, it doesn't quite move my soul. [One problem I have with meditation is that it is so difficult for me to empty my mind of thought. It's not a natural state for me. My mind is constantly swarming, constantly. I could benefit from a little emptiness now and again, but ultimately, it's not me. It's not who I am. My thoughts are the primary aspect of my existence.] It doesn't provide me peace with the absurd structure of existence. It echoes some of my ideas about the nature of being, but though I've felt 'enlightened' at various times, it doesn't put my soul to rest. Something is missing. That mysticism, that excitement, that esoteric wisdom. I kept looking. Little did I know that it had already found me, though I had been blind to it.
Somewhere along my journey, I met and consorted with a fire witch. She was a practitioner of the arts, known and unknown. Something in me was drawn to her, but it took me too long to discover the magnet within. I captured her affections with a novelty tarot deck. She opened the door for me, and gave me the key, but I wasn't ready to step through it yet. As a musician, she guided me when I decided to become a guitarist, and taught me my first chords. What she represents to me is a freer, intuitive existence. Something different from the binding structure of reason. But more appealing than faith. She showed me the bridge between the shores, and I have been taking my time studying each side.
I have spent a lot of time studying math and science. They were always my best subjects. History, English, they were too interpretative. I liked the idea that a problem had a specific solution and the way to reach it was to apply a specific algorithm. You were either right or wrong, and having the answer simply meant having the appropriate knowledge and piecing it together in the right way. I learned rather late that this was a simplistic and idealistic perspective. There is as much intuition and interpretation in science as there is in the arts. That doesn't mean that it's equally capricious, but my thought was that, if I'm going to have to use my feelings to get by, why not enter a field where my feelings are intrinsically 'right', rather than having to be measured against all sorts of ordered structures and chains of logic? So I dropped science and picked up art (specifically, music). Of course, that totally screwed up the life plan that I had set up, up to that point.
There's another factor that contributed to my crossing that bridge from the land of reason to the land of feeling. In a surreal experience, I met my doppelganger. But the difference between us was clear. She represented everything I wanted to be. Beauty, purity, intelligence, and actualized potential. Looking into the eyes of the doppelganger, I saw myself reflected in the form of a great void. I was being made obsolete. With that other me existing in this world and doing more and better than I could ever do, my existence was meaningless. So I had to change. I had to become someone else. I opened my mind to the possibility of drastic change. And most importantly, the despair that filled my heart opened up channels of emotional energy within me. I discovered the power of feeling, and how important it was to the experience of life, even on the dark side. I decided that if I became a musician, I could share that energy with other people, and help them to open up to the cosmic energies of the universe. That became my conviction.
Keeping this discussion on track, it was the cosmic energies of the universe that led me to where my spirit currently rests. The motion of the 'heavenly' bodies, the sun and the moon, and their influence on the very nature of reality around us. The passing of the seasons, the various moods of the weather, and the latent energy all around us. This had always been the aspect of life that inspired me most. I rejected myself from the joys of a social existence. I learned to respect not man, but nature. Trees, and sky, and wind. These are the divine. God, if there was such a thing, does not exist in the form of man, and he does not speak in words. God is in the details, but - and this is where many religions make the fatal mistake - he does not exist beyond that. Nor should he. Even using a word like 'he' to describe god is misleading. There is no god, there is only existence. And the beautiful part of that existence is what represents spirituality to me.
God is the rain on the rooftop. God is the lightning that flashes through the sky, and the booming thunder that follows. God is the sun, bright and warm, that fosters life. God is the moon, that awakens mystery within the heart, and guides us on the paths of darkness. God is the wind that whistles through the trees, that screams between the hills, that strips the leaves from the trees in the fall. God is the trees that clothe the wasteland, and feed the air. God is the bubbling and cascading stream. God is the raging river. God is the ocean, deep and vast. God is the sky, that generates the rain. God is the limitless void, that exists between the stars. God is the chaos, and also the order, that can be found in nature. God is life as much as he is death, with no preference towards either. God is also man, who possesses the profound power of self-realization. He is none of these and all of these. And to speak of him apart from these things is to misunderstand him.
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