drawnblog:

These updated and animated archival photos are made by Kevin Weir over at Flux Machine. They remind me of Terry Gilliam’s animations for Monty Python, with a bit of the bizarre spookiness of Travis Louie.

I am going to break it down in very easily understood terms for those that clearly do not understand these rules. A true friend would never consider publicly displaying an image of yourself with one of the following:

1) The appearing of a double chin

2) A drunken, glazed over expression

3) An overly pronounced and unflattering roll, bulge, or photographic perspective that leads to body dismorphia

4) You, doing something that may lead to losing respect from your co-workers or colleagues

The reasons that a true friend would never post one of the above photos are as follows:

1) Not all people that are chosen to be your “friend” on Facebook is a true, close, and personal friend. Some of them are co-workers, and possibly even current and former bosses.

2) There is one ancient truth that still exists, even in this modern, technologically advanced world. And that is this: people do stupid shit. And any mildly considerate person knows that this stupid shit should not always be documented. More importantly, this stupid shit should not be posted publicly for all to see.

3) This brings me to the most important point - “Frienemies”. There are some Facebook “friends” that you haven’t had the courage to “unfriend” on Facebook, but are nonetheless, not friends. These are people that would say bad things about you if you “unfriended” them. They would also say bad things about you if you appear to be overweight in a photo. They would say bad things about you based on a loose understanding of you as a person. These are severely insecure people whose full time job is seeking out weak points in others’ character and appearance. Unfortunately, I have had many of these during my Facebook user experience. I have unfriended many people and been unfriended by others. It’s usually a relief. But still, it should be up to the individual user to embarrass themselves.

After reading this, some of you may say that this a superficial way to look at the social network. You may claim that you don’t care what other people think, and that you’re just using facebook as a way to keep in touch with people. To that, I say “duh”. Everyone uses it for this reason. But relationships with others can be complicated, delicate things. This is an infallible truth that is important to understand, especially now that these relationships have gone public. Some people will say that they don’t care what other people think. But if that were true, then they wouldn’t be online at all. 

It really isn’t very hard. Just have a little respect and think before you post. Or, more importantly, learn how to take flattering photos…or don’t ever put yourself behind the lens of a camera at all.

I’ve been meaning to write these thoughts down for awhile. With the new year, and all of the changes in my life that occurred in the preceding year, I finally have the inspiration to write them down. 

Awhile back, I had gone through some life changes that left me a sliver of my former self. I had put all of my energy into a marriage that ultimately wasn’t strong enough to last (to both of our utter, heartbreaking disappointment). This had come after a life brimming with all kinds of chaos, strife, neglect, and abuse. In my self disillusionment, I had made the marriage the smooth “happy ending” to a twisted life. I was swimming in a turbulent ocean of regrets for my failures, battling waves of depression. With my marriage gone, I didn’t know who I was. Who was I if I wasn’t a wife? I had always considered my art, music, and writing to be a large part of my identity. But I was so lost that even these things weren’t enough to recapture my sense of self. Anyone that has been through anything similar can probably relate to this feeling of complete hopelessness. 

What I am about to say is deeply personal. Some may say too personal. But I believe that a woman needs to be completely self-aware and bravely honest if she expects to create anything of value (in art, and in personal relationships). Here it is…I was battling thoughts of suicide. Which isn’t as rare as some happy, perfectly well-adjusted people may think (if those people actually exist, although I don’t know if I’ve met one). 

Hang in there, there is a very bright and shining silver lining to this story. At the bottom of the barrel there is only one direction to look if one wants to see the light, and that is up. Human nature compels everyone to grab onto a life raft when they’re drowning. I believe that there’s an innate part of each of us that will (mentally, physically, and emotionally) try to find something to live for. And most people are able to. That’s why hardships give people strong character and an inflexible will. So the question that I searched for while I was sitting in hours of unforgiving Los Angeles traffic was…what is there to live for? I had made the mistake of making my reason to live another person. I was determined to find something deeper and more universal. I pondered the question for weeks. I considered that maybe making art and music could be that thing, as they were when I was much younger. They had brought me through unbearable times before, could they do that for me again? I finally decided that art wasn’t the answer either. What I was really looking for was the meaning of life. For some people, the purpose of their life is their friends and family. I do love my sisters and my aunt from the depths of my soul. But they live miles (and states) away. I needed something that I could cling to that was inside myself. A source of inner strength. Some people devote themselves to God. And although I would love to be the kind of person that can open their heart to something that they can’t see or prove, I never will be. Who knew that resolving the existential dilemma would be so hard? Just joking, of course.

A thought crept into my mind one day that blew open the channels of my brain like philosophical dynamite. There is only one constant in life that I know of. It exists in nature, and in human nature as well. This is the ability to evolve. Countless species have come into existence, changed drastically over thousands of years (if you believe those wacko, genius scientists), then died off. But their existence contributed to the life of other countless species. And I’m only speaking of our small planet. The universe is evolving too. Stars are born, lead their slow, glowing life, then die. Galaxies expand. Everything is constantly changing, including all of us little humans and our ideas and sense of purpose. Our species (and not that long ago, either) used to think the world was flat, and that the flu was a result of demonic possession. You get my point. But in the case of human nature, it takes at least one strong person who has the fortitude and integrity to think above the extremely low mental ceiling that is created by the masses. Actually, many people have been killed for doing so. But because they did, we now have t.v.’s, museums, text books, and the Kardashians. Okay, not all of the fruits of evolution are beautiful. 

On a more personal note, I have evolved beyond recognition within my lifetime. I was a poor, dirty-kneed, innocent little kid with a smudged face, living in the back of a car when I was five years old. Homeless, and unloved by the people that mattered most. By my teenage years, I was an angry, opinionated, punk-loving feminist. And now I am…well, me. There are parts of me that are still a feral child, and other parts that are still an angry punk. But for the most part, I shower, and smell good (most of the time). I have evolved. Enormously. Of course, my evolution has come at a cost. I’ve had to leave people behind that were holding me back, and that didn’t have my best interest in mind. I’ve had my heart broken countless times. I’ve had my rib broken. But sometimes that’s the level of strife that it takes in order to look inward, find a sense of self beyond the people in your life, your job, and your general surroundings. These situations are what lead you to evolve. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the hardest situations are the only ones that force you out of your comfort zone. Divorce, death of a loved one, abuse. These are the things that make you crawl out of the primordial muck and make you stand on your own two fins.

So I have to find my own personal reason to live. I want to evolve. Every day I strive to possess the characteristics of the people that I admire. I try to convince myself daily that I will, one day, be like my heroes. Every day draws me closer to the person that I visualize in my head. It will take a lifetime, but this is what I have to live for. Integrity, passion without force, better art, better music, a better understanding of myself and the people around me. These are the qualities that will manifest in my character if I try hard enough. And I’m sure that life will throw me many more blows. But now I know the meaning of life, for me, anyway. And that is to keep evolving. 

A cigarette in hand.
I am transparent;
A drifting plume of smoke.
Ashen time as memory.
The years are an itch in my lungs;
a sharpness in my chest.
Days, when used up, drift
greyly across sun-warmed cement.
Capture their ugly end in this tray to observe.

I look up.

The gravity falls into the abyss.
I exalt the divinity of the yellow light
of the cloudless, uncompromising day.
Time climbs up
like smoke.

Pretty word clouds. Just enter a URL, and choose your own layout/colors. This one was created by entering the URL for this blog. Fun! www.wordle.net

drawnblog:

Story about how street art is received by Muslims in Tunisia:

“”You shouldn’t pray in the street, have alcohol in the street, or show photos that have no meaning.”

Love this.

(via maskandunveiling)

Three calculated points,
like over-oiled hinges
supporting thinly scribed lines, broke up
upon the slight threat of gravity.
She was a scalene,
Slanted and unsound.

Then there was no point given,
no sides taken,
no force more centrifugal
than the speed of a perfect circle.
His limbs couldn’t muster
even a slight move.
His hands were forced to submit
To the gravity of circumstance.

Then he found his home;
a home of equal angles.
None were acute.
None were obtuse.
She was a shelter of perfect measure.
She could never understand
why he loved her frame.
She would say, “I don’t know why you love me…
I’m such a boring square.”

Behind my eyes,
tugs the dirty-fingernailed fist
of a feral child.
She is unkept and unkempt.
Her hair hangs like a stiff, matted rug.
She doffs her confidence like a smudge.
If I allowed, wordlike sounds
would tumble out
like underwater whale songs.
But I’ve built myself like a barricade.
I’ve poised myself in front,
behind,
and above.
A cage would not be enough
to shield this wild cipher.

The curve of a line of words
may sway like a tender current.
Yet some lay low and rough
like hollow mollusks.
Each round word,
a hand plucked pearl.