quizzically speaking

my attempt at painting a self portrait only proved my theory that portraiture is not my strong point.

i mean, its a great painting... but its certainly not me.

in fact, i think it looks a lot like a great start at creating a new cartoon character.

and she has a great "cartoon" expression on her face too... something like a raised eyebrow, partially raised lip, wide open eyes, which all together gives her the "hmm?" quizzical look.

pop quiz - is there one or are there two Zs in the word "quizzical"?

quizical
quizzical

cousin fidel

dreampt i was a cuban revolutionary with fidel castro. and as his second in command was a highly important person, indeed.

we were in constant battle for our lives. assasins were everywhere, focused mainly on fidel but with a hit list a mile long. fidel created a masterful plan to delay the assasinations of his highest ranked using a series of "decoys". the plan would give each new commander plenty of time to continue the struggle if fidel were to ever be assasinated himself.

the brilliant plan was as follows:

since all revolutionaries were ranked, and numbered according to rank, decoys would be inserted into the high ranks with appropriate numbers. publicly the decoys would be refered to as second, third, fourth in command, while privately the actual folks of high rank would continue on as before.

if fidel were assasinated, all assassins would focus on the poor bloke they thought was next in command. this would keep each commander off the assassination list long enough to carry out our mission.

our mission:
to over-throw the batista party (the crooked rich party controling the government), reclaim land and businesses from the USA who backed the batista party, and install a socialist democracy for cuba.

fidel was #60 in rank, and although i was technically #59 we pretended i was #58.

i was spying on someone, caught them selling out the revolution and brought this to fidel's attention. fidel and i had a rather complex plan which included the traitor witnessing fidel kill me. i can only imagine this was in an effort to have the traitor both spread the word that i was out of the picture and that fidel was perfectly willing and able to kill his own if necessary.

kneeling, with my face pressed into the dirt and gravel, i took deep breaths, assuring myself that death would mean peace and that i would feel no pain. i tried to remember what fidel had told me... "when you are dying, you will feel nothing. your body will be flooded with light. the light will flood all of your vision and you will see only beauty. you will be okay, i can promise you this."

i heard a loud shot and my head jumped as the bullet penetrated. but it was all just as cousin fidel had promised. i felt nothing and a beautiful white light poured in from all around.

the next thing i know fidel is waking me. i am dizzy and feel naseaus. cousin fidel holds my hand and i hear him talking but the words are too soft to hear. as i look around i can see that i am in what was once his room in his grandmothers home. he sits in a chair at my side.

my vision, first blurred, becomes clear with time, as does my hearing. cousin fidel is praying for my healing. in fact, i know he has healed me himself, for there is a great legend about this man i call cousin. it has been said he is the chosen one who will deliver us from evil. he is a man of peace and love for humankind.

i cry out to him "cousin fidel, cousin fidel!" it felt like an eternity since i last set eyes on him. while asleep i had dreampt of his death and it broke my heart. it is with tremendous joy i see him by my side, alive and well.

"my cousin," a tear trickles down his face, filled with compassion. "sleep my cousin. you will feel yourself tomorrow. there is still much work to be done before this beard can be shaved. rest now, i will hold your heart."

patterns and details

im exhausted, again. or is it as usual? i have these energy highs and lows. i keep thinking i should chart them and see if there is a pattern, because i bet you a pint of ben and jerry's cherry garcia frozen yogurt that there is a pattern. a very obvious one.

i took a walk today. it was nice to be outside for a bit. but i really just want to get out of my head. thats what i was thinking while walking near the pond... "i want to run but my body can't [due to my bad knee]. its not about physical activity anyway. what its really about is being stuck in my head. i cant run fast enough or far enough to stop thinking. what i really want is to get out of my head."

yes, it sounds crazy. perhaps it is. we could bet a pint of B&Js if you'd like. but its really that the more i know what is happening in this country and what we are doing to other countries and NOT taking care of here in our own, the more stressed and anxious and restless i become. it reminds me of why i stopped reading the paper and watching the news in the first place. my little heart and mind cant deal with all this drama.

just because i choose not to know the details of whats going on doesn't make me ignorant or apathetic. in fact, the problem is that i care just a little too much and feel so unbelievably helpless to change anything. and i certainly know that things are bad and getting worse. and i know that my role in changing this world does not have to be about the details. it can be about healing, and changing the way we think, and love. and to do that part, i dont need to know the most recent dirt uncovered.

one thing that crossed my mind is how much relief can come from writing. and not just typing or blogging. but actual pen and paper writing. i read or heard someplace that there is something about writing with pen and paper that causes certain chemical reactions or changes or whatever in the brain. something happens there when you write, and its supposed to be good for you. i wonder if a paintbrush and canvas have the same effect.

kid rock, shark catcher extraordinare

intense dreams. wild, raging, epic dreams. everyone gets a part in this theatre in my head - even unexpectedly. mom, linda, friends from 10th grade. even kid rock who was a fantastic guest on my very own "fear factor" type of show the other night. typical themes of my dreams include anger, confusion, abandonment, sadness, fear, driving, and water.

lets spend more time with kid rock.
im pretty sure mtv was the network hosting my show, hence kid rock.
i brought kid to the top of this major construction zone. there was a wooden stairway leading down to the bottom of the hill, and a dirt path up a hill to the left.

"what will you be showing us today, kid?" i asked.
kid tells me we are going to be sliding down the wooden stairs on our asses. this is one of three big tricks he's gifting us with today.
"man, that sounds rough. are we going to get slivers in our asses?" kid tells me if we use his specialized technique we will have nothing to fear.

kid takes a seat at the top of the stairs and with the style and grace of a gymnist or diver, kid straightens his legs out in front of him, toes pointed, leans back with arms parallel to legs and fingers pointing with the toes. a mere second later kid is shooting down the stairs, smooth and quick. good god he's amazing.

its my turn and im still a bit concerned about getting slivers in my bum. but kid did it, and this is my show. so, i follow kid's lead with legs and arms straighened, and toes and fingers pointed. amazingly as i wiz along, i notice the stairs have actually folded down so that im sliding down a flat wooden slide. brilliant. brilliant strategy, i think to myself.

i arrive at the bottom so that kid and i can congratulate each other and ourselves for accomplishing one feat, and so we can head on to the second. we walk up the dirt path to our left. at the top is something like a half-indoor and half-outdoor swimming pool. there are a few teens and adults around, likely interested in seeing what happens next.

kid tells me to take a look in the pool. "are we going to swim in there?" i ask. he must be kidding because the pool has several very large electric eels. kid assures me this is no joke and that he is going to swim the entire perimeter of the pool without being killed. as much as im concerned about kid being electrocuted by these creatures, im slightly more concerned about what will happen if he is successful and i have to take my own turn.

with no hesitation at all, kid dives into the treterous waters and begins swimming the perimeter - underwater. we all watch with bated breath as the eels each take their turn at shocking him on his way past. dear god, will he make it out alive?

quicker than imaginable, kid rock has made it around and climbs out of the pool. he seems completely unshaken by his experience and only offers up that it was a breeze.

knowing i can make it if kid can, i jump into the pool and begin my journey around. im just barely able to avoid the eels. it must be a miracle that i make it around without a single one touching me. an even bigger miracle that the sharks i just spotted arent bothering to bite me although they do swim near.

without a second thought after i jump out, kid is onto the final task in our series of three. along side the pool is a long, thin single swim lane. onlookers will use a cannon to shoot one shark at each of us, which we must catch with our hands.

somehow all of this happens in a frenzy of activity without much ado. apparently we each catch our shark and neither of us have our arms or heads bit off. i dont really remember. i just remember waking up and thinking "what the hell...."