We wake up at some point and do whatever we do after we wake up. (I don’t call it morning since it might not be for everyone.) Some people smash the shit out of their snooze button over and over again. A practice that makes no sense to me as I believe you should just get up when you you wake up or when you need to, barring of course illness or sleep deprivation. But I’m also one of those people, rare it seems, that once I’m awake I’m ready to go. I very rarely use an alarm let alone the snooze button to get me to a more awake state. I like to think I used the time actually sleeping to get my sleep.
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Superheroes
With all the superhero movies around it led to a discussion of “who is your favorite?”.
There aren’t many easy questions in life for me but this one, unless I’m given other evidence, is a slamdunk.
quote
Limits and roadblocks are okay and expected in life except when it’s youself. – Nirav
– Santa’s Fallen Angel
Movie review: Ender’s Game
I watch a lot of movies and very little television. I rarely, compared to the movies that i watch, feel the need to share my opinion on a movie. This is one of those times. Yes there may be spoilers in this. I haven’t written it yet but i can’t imagine this without some.
i remember when… follow up
I wonder if i’ve ever learned any lessons now that i’ve had time to reflect from my last post.
i remember when
recently i saw and heard an elderly woman on a very new looking macbook air listening without headphones to something or someone screeching. perhaps a video of a grandchild. i was thinking that the elderly of that generation usually talk about manners and the way things were and wondered where her headphones were. but i also hear about the idea that they have lived long enough so they can do and get away with almost any damn thing they want. betty white’s new show, assuming it is still on, plays on this idea at times. grandma and her eccentricities.
Naivety. Not to be confused with nativity.
I only throw that last part in there because someone did confuse it. I felt it was well placed will the original idea so I included it.
Life constantly throws things at us, sometimes directly into our face so fast we can’t avoid it, and probably for the best once we realize it.
Naive/Naivety. I’ve heard it being used to classify someone who lacked awareness as well as someone just because of their innocence.
Home
Is it truly where the heart is?
I thought it was simply a four (or less) chambered organ to pump blood around my body. who knew things were otherwise. Perhaps if the organ is removed and placed separately the home changes. Eww. Thinking about a heart transplant with something mechanical. If your old heart is somewhere else are you then never able to have a home again?
Some people take the time to make a home with someone else. Do the old ones become obsolete? Are they destroyed? Did they even exist to begin with?
People ask me, “Where is home?” Do we have to have one? If I’m “homeless” by choice or circumstances what then do I answer? “Nowhere?”
I have lived in a house for many years but I wouldn’t call it the home that I am referring to. I still have things in boxes from when I moved in. I never felt the want to set them out. Am I homeless inside a house? My mind is reeling. Ok not really from this but I did take some cough medicine last week and I’ll use that as the simulated analogy of my head spinning.
Perhaps I’m just a free spirit with loans and a mortgage, ready at a moments notice (and several months of cleaning and packing) to pick up and go to a new great adventure. A home, a thing for others to indulge in.
This intangible home thing/idea is so elusive. If you are with someone and still don’t feel at home, does that portend ill things for the future of the relationship?
Ah the late writings of a tired mind as I reflect on my life, where it was, where I think it is and where it could be.
In the end I think home is when you go somewhere and don’t want to be there anymore and long to be in that other place. The one where you feel more comfortable and relaxed. Hopefully it’s also the same place where you usually live and with the people you may be living with.
-Santa’s Fallen Angel
the inbetween
there is that interesting (and sometimes scary) moment in the rare nap of mine. that time and place where upon waking you notice the light creeping around the window shades. not too bright like later morning or afternoon. not too dark like night or very early morning. somewhat of a goldilocks zone of light where i’m not sure what time it is. did i just fall asleep for a few hours and i’m headed into the evening or has the body taken command and kept me down until the morning and i will have to go to work soon? the slight pause as i think about the ramifications. i was tired enough that i actually took a nap. was i exhausted that i slept until the next day? the lingering thoughts of what wasn’t accomplished in the evening and the time now gone. the notion that the phone is a short reach away and it can solve the dilemma. i lean over from the couch and the answer is revealed on the glowing screen…
-Santa’s Fallen Angel
the art of… art
the creative process is interesting as i find many things in life.
sitting, pondering, doing, erasing, doing over, trying, retrying. scrapping it and starting all over.
writing, painting, sculpting, creation of any kind.
for myself i’ve tried many types.
pottery making is fun even if messy. getting the right speed of the wheel, the right pressure on the clay outside and inside. big, small, tall, squat. plate, bowl, cup. glazed, unglazed. if you mess up, chuck it (gently) back into the pile of clay and start over. i signed up for a single 2-3 hour class and made four different things. i like three of the four only because i messed up on the fourth and ran out of time before i could fix it.
painting/drawing i seem to suck at. in middle school the teacher told me that i had a lot of imagination but no talent. that’s the only reason i got a ‘d’ instead of an ‘f’ i think. maybe i should try a lesson. every so often i tried and pencil sketch something usually something right in front of my like my hand. some of the doodles aren’t that bad. but it isn’t something i can reproduce easily.
writing, somewhat rhetorically obvious, is what i enjoy. even in high school i enjoyed it. unfortunately i was told often i shouldn’t be wasting my time on it by teachers, family and friends. i even tried to submit a piece to a writing contest. the way i remember it, i spent quite a lot of countless nights awake working on it. i then gave it to my ap english teacher to review and submit. one day i asked if she had heard anything. again unfortunately she never got around to looking at it. i don’t remember an apology or anything. i still don’t think she even liked me since i was never as good as my sibs had been. i do remember the feeling of being crushed and i did give it up for a while. i took some classes in college but it wasn’t the same.
so now i’m making another run just a little differently this time and maybe i will even take another chance in the future at something a little longer than a blog.
to anyone that creates, keep it up. don’t let them tell you it’s not good enough. let your heart and head decide. beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
-Santa’s Fallen Angel