Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
L'aura del campo
'Ã© a lua, Ã© a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
â™£ Federico GarcÃa Lorca â™£
L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me.
PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I LV COMMENTS!
passed away November 12, 2005
Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
These pictures rotate.
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
|A response to Scott: "Yes, good point. It IS easier to leave some things to others. Like my flight tomorrow. You driving the plane to SLC? ðŸ˜² En serio, whether the absolutism of black/white thinking (nuances give headaches) or religious or political groups that do the thinking (or not) for us, it's tempting to just go along and not question. Dangerous, but very human."
So... are political groups the new religion? Are gangs the new family? Related questions as most humans join groups... even deniers like survivalists. The problem with groups? They can devolve into an us versus them thinking which makes it easier to wage war. Ask Romeo and Juliet about that... if you have doubts.
Personally I'm highly opinionated (not always right) and that includes the affairs of my village and country. I can seem quite political... but... I try not to become partisan. As for religion... My faith states that we humans are all One and that God is One (by whatever name we call her/him). This inclusivity trandscends petty debates on who is going to Hell... the fastest.
Ah... should I go on?
Must pack for my flight tomorrow... unless you are picking me up and flying me there. ðŸ˜‚
|In response "what will we do when robots take over our jobs" I wrote to Tomasz:
"I receive a monthly check. I live far below my means, living in two rooms with shared bath, preferring second-hand everything or doing without. But... I'll be in Costa Rica on Wednesday while my friends curse as they scrape ice off their windshield so they can go to WalMart. It's all about choices. I "garden", write, read, travel and take photos. And I invest in human relationships. â™¥"
That said, it IS a seriously question. Humans have changed the human landscape and will continue to do so in unpredictable ways. It is neither linear nor ever-advancing. Much of our social fabric will be rethought, rewoven or lost. Same with our technology.
It's why I believe in old-knowledge as well as new, simple things like how to grow a tomato plant as well as how to grow them on the Moon.
One of the greatest gifts that humanity must protect and cherish is our flexibility. It's why I'm not fond of dogma and conformity. Neither is "evil" but both have the limitations of non-flexibility and exhibit a certain lack of imagination.
To go back to Tomasz' question: we will cope with robots... or we will not. Our flexibility and imagination may determine how well we survive as humans continue to evolve.
|I'm a night person in Montana but in Costa Rica I can usually be semi-functional by 8 a.m. since that DAYSTAR has the chutzpah of getting up around 6... and everyone is in bed by 10 anyway.
1. Jet-lag can affect me for many days. But, oddly, not every time.
2. Day-length does affect me. Summer twilight can be brutal as I can almost read in the dark.
3. I need bed-curtains or room-darkening shades when I travel.
4. Caffeine... yeah. "Morning" comes when it comes. "Good Morning" comes after the second cup.
5. I get bad nightmares... which isn't conducive to a good rest; however, apparently I don't thrash around... hmm.
Am I an owl? My friend Bryan loves owls and I'll give him a couple as gifts when I visit him next week. I have other friends who like owls as well. And I do like bats, nighthawks, frogmouths...
I even love black cats.
So... I need to enjoy these frigid sunny days this week. It'll be -15Âºc in the morning but next week it'll be 15Âºc warm and sunny. I'll cope. I do get up earlier in Costa Rica but even there I tend to get up after others. Walking along a beach at 6 a.m. may sound romantic... but just let me go back to sleep.
|Posted as a response to LK:
"I must've been a teenager but I hated going to a restaurant with my family, sitting with people I didn't know. I still don't care much for large restaurants. I preferred being at home with my family and maybe my cousin and aunt. That was Thanksgiving for me.
Never really saw it from my mother's perspective; although I suspect she didn't like cooking a big turkey, preferring a capon.
Now... I am in a different situation. I live alone and finding a place open on holidays is problematic (this year the Senior Center closes for 4 days for all three holidays). Usually someplace is open. Charlie B's, a local bar and restaurant, purposely serves a spread for all its clientele (many are older and single).
I found a different solution this year. I was in Mexico for Thanksgiving, wasn't even aware. Ate a cimita (had to check my journal). Spent time with a couple from New Zealand. The next two holidays will be in Costa Rica. I'll cope. No need to be in Montana. My family lives elsewhere and my friends here have family (some more, some less).
There's always another way of looking at a situation, isn't there?"
Addendum: LK was responding to someone who objected to restaurants being open on Thanksgiving and people having to work (she shares a story about one particular Thanksgiving when the turkey was frozen and they ate at a fast food joint). Me? I worked on an emergency line for 5 years; holidays off were a premium. But... retail? Why would anyone need to shop... other than at a food store and even then, being open half a day should suffice. That said... if it's your own business and you choose to be open (giving others a day off for family... or not) that's a-ok by me.
|A short response to Dan:
I believe my grandmother Bertha was born in 1890 followed by Oscar and Amanda... so contemporaries of Annie, Katie, Sarah. They were the youngest "ours" of a blended Swedish family (the family tree resembles macramÃ©... two sisters married unrelated brothers; therefore, mine, yours, ours and theirs...). My Uncle Leslie (a "theirs') looked like my father (more than his actual brother).
I never got to meet my grandmother; she died of cancer before I was born. I do have a picture of her though, my father favored her, and she did get to meet my mother.
The other family roots go back to various places at various times. Our DNA shows no Native American, a fairly definite sign that we were all immigrants; although their "ethnicity" and "country-of-origin" don't match up. It's important for me to remember that people have always "gotten around".
|Nancy at the Winter Market
A red cardinal perched in her hat that day.
Should we have avoided her?
Could we have?
No one can avoid an artiste resplendente
The air wrapped around her as if summoned.
Call her a crone.
All roads lead her way.
The way she had embraced her magic at age Sixty.
No need for excuses.
No time for apologies.
Art flowed through her.
Last week a chicken sat on her head.
Nancy had a way with silk leaves and feathers.
Steam-punk pumped through variegated veins;
she was alive, wrinkles and all.
Call her Crone.
She accepts the honor graciously,
'round the myriad facets of her eyes.
Â© KÃ¥re Enga (2.diciembre.2018) edited since
|Glow of the aftermath,
last night's eruption,
your sulfur breath greets this dawn.
Not all choose their poison.
I will always choose you.
The dead laid out around us
did not get to choose.
A Ballast of bullets
weigh their chests down.
They cannot move now,
nor ever move again.
Red that burst forth now blackens.
The heat of their moments now cool.
The glow of last night's eruption
seared behind my eyelids
does not cool.
I inhale your hell-born breath
and lay down beside you
where come Spring
red poppies will bloom.
Â© KÃ¥re Enga [175.287] (11.november.2018)
strike â€” vultures clean up
Â© KÃ¥re Enga [175.286] (9.noviembre.2018)
Just a random thought. I have a photo to go along with this from 2012. The municipality of PÃ©rez ZeledÃ³n went on strike for over three weeks. It was odorous.
95,303 blog views
on cold ground
cloaked by clouds
I wrap myself
with the fragrance
add a blanket
to keep me warm
I draw it up
over my head
to block out
the sounds of this
Behind the eyelids
a swirl of color
reds and olives
fading to grey.
Â© KÃ¥re Enga [175.285] (7.november.2018)
I've tried to wipe my memories clean. It's not like a computer you know: click on an icon, delete; push a button, reboot. It suits me to forget. Better than remembering each slight, each slice, better than mulling over regrets. I could wallow in self-pity and some of my friends would wallow with me. This is the crux. To die in the past or to survive to die some other day. I need to live in the present so I resent those who wake up each day happy. I don't take happy pills. I need coffee. I would seek oblivion but by then I'm far too awake. For my sake, don't suggest it. I share hoping this doesn't trigger old traumas. I dislike horror movies, don't do drama. I stay off of roller-coasters. No, I can't wipe away old nightmares. Don't give me new ones.
Â© KÃ¥re Enga [175.284] (4.novembre.2018)
Revision used as part of "Hourglass"