Happy Schmappy

It has come to my attention that I'm utterly depressing. (but certainly its refreshing in this time of spring time giddyness?)

ah well. I'll try to cheer it up for once.

Today it rained. (hahaha).

But Sunday. I did something peculiar. Why yes, I was invited by a friend to join him in watching a Monks' Choir perform at one of (the?) Seattle's Cathedrals (I'm thinking only one right?) Anyway. large grandiose catholic architecture (i do like the vanity of the Catholic Church). I chose the first pew in the front (just like all through childhood). I noticed, I was the only one in the young crowd in the cathedral to genuflect before entering the pew. My friend laughed self-consciously. waiting for the monks to start I explored the cathedral with my eyes, but only that which was in my field of vision. Not wanting to cast unintended glances at those behind me or to the side of me or anywhere else that would be deemed improper I faced the empty altar. with two unlit candles (one of the few select items allowed on sacred altar). a large floor to ceiling (like 40 ft ceiling or higher?) series of windows reached up into the rafters and began to circle around a large central 'eye' in the middle of the window cross. No traditional crucifix. Just a gigantic cross of small windows with a giant Eye in the center. Thank you Peter Jackson for creating visual imagery to easily accessible religious-eye motifs.

(it has just occurred to me that some readers may find the phrase 'visual imagery' redundant. But it's not. Imagery arguably could be traced through image and then back out to imagination. So imagery, one could argue, in it's default sense could refer to mental imagery, imagination, the process of creating in our minds. So visual imagery specifies not the mind's creation but the eye's perception.)

It was weird looking at that eye. And it was weird being in a cathedral again. with solemn purpose. I knew I liked religion. The paganism really. the connection to magic. I find that technology has become for me simply a mysterious black box that holds no magic over me. Technology is a mental mind-job not a world of magic. (no wonder so many are captivated by ms. rowling). MAGIC. Where do we find it anymore? well. I like to look to the catholic church and specifically it's more esoteric rituals. I know I've posted before on Eucharistic Adoration. which I think would've been perfect to complement the Monks' Choir. Regardless, I've been sidetracked.

I sat in the front pew. Watching, as people came into my field of vision and to my silent, vague, childhood horror, lay themselves sprawling along the steps and plateaus leading up to the altar. There were ripped jeans, bare feet, tevas, american apparel pants, UW sweatshirts, glasses, black, olive and maroon rainjackets, there were headbands, head scarves, piercings and tattoos, there were denim jackets, why there was even one "Jedi Academy" tshirt. There were books and jars of water, there were couples and friends, there were the inescapable, undefinable and horribly mainstream androgynous young Seattlites. Not so many, in a nice dress shirt and slacks and so with my vestment and genuflection I was the minority here in God's house. With heads staring at the ceiling, fingers turning pages, lips sipping water and legs crossing and uncrossing, fondling bare feet, the monks processed in.

It was late on Sunday. And it seemed rather like a college coffee shop or student center than the dwelling place of the Almighty. Come as thou art, I thought. and gently reminded myself that i was an "ex-Catholic" and no longer could lay claim to that soft indignity that was currently forcing me to shift my weight from left to right and back again.

And the monks began to sing. And i stared straight ahead. And back near the doors of the Cathedral the monks began singing. My eyes on the altar. Filling the voluminous arches and grand foyer the mens' voices rang softly. The monks sang. I sat perfectly still. My crisscrossed hands fallen numb but not asleep. As ghosts they only sat in my lap if I looked at them. but I didn't. I looked at the lonely forlorn altar, with its silly humanity spilled at its feet. The dramatic interior lighting lit up the tall columns on either side of the glass cross. You could see the 2X4 frame marks on the cement pours. Foolishly I mumbled out loud, "that must have taken forever". thinking in terms of my irish adventure. the thought of taking one board and pouring and drying and setting and pouring and drying and setting, innumerable rows of cement and boards just seemed gargantuan. my friend kindly pointed out, that they didn't do it one at a time. Quite right. I thought, quite right.

Then the whole building stood. The jeans stood, the skin tight pants stood, the bracelets jangled to attention. the books were thumbed. The glasses repositioned and the "Jedi Academy" turned its back on me. Everyone in the building stood and faced the glass cross. "how did everybody know?" i thought as I shuffled to a stand. After looking around (a few degrees to the left, a few to the right) I began to catch the echoing words of the monks song. It was the profession of faith, the Nicene Creed. I enjoyed listening to it and noticing that not a single person was reciting it with the monks. i felt so....secular.

...sorry. I had to put the pretzel sticks away. They were clashing awfully with this glass of Pinot Grigio.

speaking of food. i cooked dinner tonight. So the world can know. I cooked baked acorn squash filled with diced onion/apple/jicama/celery and served with lemon spinach couscous and salad. This was followed up by a wonderful dessert recipe I learned from a friend: poached pear slices with a reduced white wine syrup poured over lemon sorbet. it was. well it was just like it sounded.

After speaking with a good friend this evening, I've come to the conclusion that it's very difficult to remain intelligent in the 'real world'. Whilst in academia you feel as though you are oriented toward the greater wider world, but you still simply interact with a set of people that are in your same position. Now perhaps this is how the 'real world' operates as well (I can't say I have extensive or any experience) but it would appear to me that it's very difficult to remain intelligent out here. but I know of people who have. We all know one at least, who you think of as really intelligent. And its like, they aren't that intelligent, they've just figured out how to somehow remain competent in the real world and so they stick out like a sore thumb, something with pizzazz. (pizzazz is not a word apparently)

Anyway, that's going nowhere. but i've been sidetracked again and can't remember what else I was going to write about. All I can remember is that I made a promise to be upbeat.

I finally made arrangements to go *home* (LA is the only place that ever really feels like home). I hate flying into the Midwest because nobody lives there and it costs a lot of money. Whether I'm footing the bill or not, it irks me to no end that it costs that much to fly to the midwest. And in addition, they have shitty schedules like, 12 hour layovers in Chicago or whatnot. Uh, excuse me, I'm not going to pay $500 to then shell out more cash for somewhere to crash in Chicago during a LAYOVER. I must say though, its more convenient than renting a car and driving there myself, because lo and behold, nobody wants to one-way rent to the midwest because, ah thats right, NO ONE lives there. Thats not true. 3 VERY important people to me live there and that justifies it all. But otherwise. WTF. Should non-cities ever exist? EVERYONE MUST LIVE IN A CITY. by imperial declaration. obv. i'm excited. also obv.

Well, ok, I was going to mention a ridiculous trend I came across but after searching for my trail I can't find it anywhere, so you're all out of luck. Apparently it's not that big of a fashion if I can't find it anywhere. But anyway, the trend of long long shirts for men that are worn almost like the current dress over jeans look for women. Often worn under a blazer and with the almost now ubiquitous (at least in the NW) fashion of skinny jeans. it raises a greater look at the cycle of androgyny in fashion, which i think is fascinating. (can we all see the link with david bowie?)

it makes sense that some fashion would tend toward androgyny because if done well, it would attract the maximum of consumers. If you can attract both men and women regardless of a sexual orientation to a particular style, all the better, no? not so sure about the shirt-dress as it's becoming popular for men. anyway, we need a little frivolity in the blog yeah?

Lilly asked me an interesting question the other day. The only reason I found it particularly interesting is because it was one of the basic human questions that I suppose we all come upon by our own reasoning? and eventually ask. We were discussing at dinner a particular activity of my mother's (i don't recall it now) in high school. Lilly was astute enough to point out that it was before she was born. Then she looked at me and said it was before YOU were born. And feeling on a roll she continued with, before either of us were EVEN in her tummy! Then, the next logical step presented itself before her fledgling mind: Where were we before Mom's tummy?

Had she been a bit older I may have responded with, "I know, right?!" But seeing that this was a sincere question (potentially the first time asked) I figured she deserved the best answer I could summon. So I thought to myself. Where were we before our mother's tummy? I immediately discounted any type of religious narrative of being in communion with God. Well the best thing I could come up with "We didn't exist."