Monday, January 26, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Friday, May 2, 2008
a nice day for exposure (October 07)
just when my life begins to feel stagnate and predictable a large man enters my field of vision on a quiet sunday afternoon in hollywood. this man has pulled his pants down to expose his penis as he walks the length of highland ave. he looks sullen.
the scene plays out like this:
daphne and i are waiting at a stoplight just past hollywood and highland. i'm caught up in the sounds of bat for lashes (new girl crush) as we wait for the light to turn.
daphne: (paraphrasing) holy shit, that guy has his pants down.
i look to my left and sure enough this large, sad man is walking down the street holding his pants up to his mid-thigh.
lindsay: that's an odd choice of underwear...
daphne: uh, he's not wearing any underwear.
upon second glance i realize that what i thought what a g-string was actually the illusion caused by his rolls of fat and pubic hair. awesome.
we can't stop staring.
to make things better there's a family on his side of the street (3 kids, mom and dad) equally stunned by this man and his unmentionables. it was the most bizarre scene i've encountered in a while. i laughed for a solid 2 minutes after we left the scene.
what i wonder now is whether his exposure was a product of his sadness or if his sadness was a product of his exposure. it wasn't a particularly warm day so i can't imagine he was airing himself out. and (not to be cruel) his man parts were quite small...i don't imagine this was a walk of pride or showmanship.
his gloomy gait stayed with me long after the image of his penis evaporated from my memory. i hope he had some sort of destination. i hope there was a belt or new pair of pants at the end of his walk. and if freedom was his goal, i hope he found means of exposure that didn't leave him so downtrodden (or scar the eyes of little kids.)
maybe he was just hoping someone would stop him and tell him his was good enough. maybe he was tired of the push and pull of love and sex and decided to present his goods to potential partners before his heart got involved.
ignoring the logic that he was probably just crazy...it makes me wonder how close we all come to a heartbroken walk through hollywood with ourselves exposed. while i'm speaking metaphorically...is it really so hard to believe that any one of us could be that guy and his sad genitalia?
actually, yes it is. but i really wanted to give this guy some credit. he looked like a guy that needed someone batting for him for once. and who doesn't want to pull metaphors out of bizarre scenes in hollywood? i know i do!
big, sad, penis man...i hope you found what you're looking for.
the scene plays out like this:
daphne and i are waiting at a stoplight just past hollywood and highland. i'm caught up in the sounds of bat for lashes (new girl crush) as we wait for the light to turn.
daphne: (paraphrasing) holy shit, that guy has his pants down.
i look to my left and sure enough this large, sad man is walking down the street holding his pants up to his mid-thigh.
lindsay: that's an odd choice of underwear...
daphne: uh, he's not wearing any underwear.
upon second glance i realize that what i thought what a g-string was actually the illusion caused by his rolls of fat and pubic hair. awesome.
we can't stop staring.
to make things better there's a family on his side of the street (3 kids, mom and dad) equally stunned by this man and his unmentionables. it was the most bizarre scene i've encountered in a while. i laughed for a solid 2 minutes after we left the scene.
what i wonder now is whether his exposure was a product of his sadness or if his sadness was a product of his exposure. it wasn't a particularly warm day so i can't imagine he was airing himself out. and (not to be cruel) his man parts were quite small...i don't imagine this was a walk of pride or showmanship.
his gloomy gait stayed with me long after the image of his penis evaporated from my memory. i hope he had some sort of destination. i hope there was a belt or new pair of pants at the end of his walk. and if freedom was his goal, i hope he found means of exposure that didn't leave him so downtrodden (or scar the eyes of little kids.)
maybe he was just hoping someone would stop him and tell him his was good enough. maybe he was tired of the push and pull of love and sex and decided to present his goods to potential partners before his heart got involved.
ignoring the logic that he was probably just crazy...it makes me wonder how close we all come to a heartbroken walk through hollywood with ourselves exposed. while i'm speaking metaphorically...is it really so hard to believe that any one of us could be that guy and his sad genitalia?
actually, yes it is. but i really wanted to give this guy some credit. he looked like a guy that needed someone batting for him for once. and who doesn't want to pull metaphors out of bizarre scenes in hollywood? i know i do!
big, sad, penis man...i hope you found what you're looking for.
nothing's gonna change my world (September 07)
i think about death a lot this time of year.
this happens for a variety of reasons. fall makes me think. this is the time of year when the world feels quiet to me. the cold creates this sort of silence that breeds wild, intangible crap in my brain. the subject of mortality comes up often in this context. but not in a morbid way. i think i feel most alive during this time. and it makes me thankful that i'm still here. and anyone who's lived in florida knows what it feels like the first day you wake up and it's cold. it smells, tastes, feels so different and so amazing. while we don't exactly have seasons in so cal, today smells like fall.
much of the loss i've experienced in my life has happened during this time as well. i'm sure that's a big part of it.
this is also when i took sally karioth's death and dying class as senior in college. recently my mom sent me the 2-week journal we had to keep in the class to document our lives and reflect on what we were learning in the class. it freaks me out to read this journal now and see how many of the core pieces of me have changed. i certainly expect to change. but i don't think i'll ever get used to how much and how fast it happens. i can't imagine being anything like that girl again. but a large part of me wishes i was. she was so sure of herself. everytime i look back and assess who i've become it feels like i lost someone i loved.
growing up is exhausting.
i've recently been thinking about the subject of loss and how most of the time we have no idea that we are seeing someone for the last time. this doesn't exclusively relate to death either. i wonder if my mom consciously realized she was seeing me as a child for the last time before i left for LA. (probably. moms are perceptive like that.) but so many times we interact with people completely unknowing that things are about to change. it's sad simply because you can't get those moments back. it's hardest when you've continued to plan your life/relationship/existence with that person and suddenly that's no longer an option. moving past this uprooting change is part of the grief process and in the instance that the person is still around it can be the opportunity to either forge a stronger relationship or lose someone entirely. it's a fork in the road. in my experience there is rarely a 3rd option.
sally taught us how this process defines the difficulty for parents learning that their child is gay. irregardless of their feelings on homosexuality, this will nearly always be a loss for the parent. simply because they had most likely planned an entirely different future for their kid. the hope is that the parent can move through the grief process quickly and redirect their plans for the same amazing kid with a different course in life. i hope for that rebirth for any parent who learns something new about their kid. life is much too short to fear change.
loss is a part of life. i need to be reminded of that sometimes to feel truly present in my life.
it's a gorgeous day here. i wish i was outside.
the end.
for the first time in a long time i don't think i wrote to please anybody but myself. it's nice.
this happens for a variety of reasons. fall makes me think. this is the time of year when the world feels quiet to me. the cold creates this sort of silence that breeds wild, intangible crap in my brain. the subject of mortality comes up often in this context. but not in a morbid way. i think i feel most alive during this time. and it makes me thankful that i'm still here. and anyone who's lived in florida knows what it feels like the first day you wake up and it's cold. it smells, tastes, feels so different and so amazing. while we don't exactly have seasons in so cal, today smells like fall.
much of the loss i've experienced in my life has happened during this time as well. i'm sure that's a big part of it.
this is also when i took sally karioth's death and dying class as senior in college. recently my mom sent me the 2-week journal we had to keep in the class to document our lives and reflect on what we were learning in the class. it freaks me out to read this journal now and see how many of the core pieces of me have changed. i certainly expect to change. but i don't think i'll ever get used to how much and how fast it happens. i can't imagine being anything like that girl again. but a large part of me wishes i was. she was so sure of herself. everytime i look back and assess who i've become it feels like i lost someone i loved.
growing up is exhausting.
i've recently been thinking about the subject of loss and how most of the time we have no idea that we are seeing someone for the last time. this doesn't exclusively relate to death either. i wonder if my mom consciously realized she was seeing me as a child for the last time before i left for LA. (probably. moms are perceptive like that.) but so many times we interact with people completely unknowing that things are about to change. it's sad simply because you can't get those moments back. it's hardest when you've continued to plan your life/relationship/existence with that person and suddenly that's no longer an option. moving past this uprooting change is part of the grief process and in the instance that the person is still around it can be the opportunity to either forge a stronger relationship or lose someone entirely. it's a fork in the road. in my experience there is rarely a 3rd option.
sally taught us how this process defines the difficulty for parents learning that their child is gay. irregardless of their feelings on homosexuality, this will nearly always be a loss for the parent. simply because they had most likely planned an entirely different future for their kid. the hope is that the parent can move through the grief process quickly and redirect their plans for the same amazing kid with a different course in life. i hope for that rebirth for any parent who learns something new about their kid. life is much too short to fear change.
loss is a part of life. i need to be reminded of that sometimes to feel truly present in my life.
it's a gorgeous day here. i wish i was outside.
the end.
for the first time in a long time i don't think i wrote to please anybody but myself. it's nice.
iPhoto wants me to dwell (August 07)
so tonight i was trying to find a certain picture in my sea of 3000+ photos in iPhoto and decided to have a go at the Trash folder. i had never done this before. and it seems this folder had not been cleaned out since it's creation back in 2002.
holy shit.
my trash folder has 500 photos in it. that's a nice round number. and among these 500 pictures are all the bad angles, awkward relationships, and not-important-enough-to-be-saved moments of the last 5 years of my life. and until now my memory functioned under the impression these moments were effectively gone. but no. iPhoto is much too careful. it knows how indecisive i am. and for 5 years i felt mistakenly triumphant in my decision to erase these sordid pieces of "film." but now iPhoto is laughing in my face. now, do i delete them permanently or once again go over these events and re-remember why i wanted to forget them in the first place?
(of course i went back through them.)
the contents of my trash folder fascinates me. much of them are poor pictures i took of myself. (narcissist.) many are of a person i definitely intended to forget. and the rest are tiny pieces of my life i didn't want. if only it were that easy to get rid of excess emotional crap. even then i'm sure there would eventually be a "trash folder" ready to bring it all back up. (i really wanted to make it all a metaphor. i couldn't resist.)
to summarize i thought i'd share one of the abandoned photographs:
brilliant.
there's so much to be said about pictures that weren't worth saving. and what's not in that folder says so much as well.
blows my freaking mind.
oh, and i never found that picture. sucks.
holy shit.
my trash folder has 500 photos in it. that's a nice round number. and among these 500 pictures are all the bad angles, awkward relationships, and not-important-enough-to-be-saved moments of the last 5 years of my life. and until now my memory functioned under the impression these moments were effectively gone. but no. iPhoto is much too careful. it knows how indecisive i am. and for 5 years i felt mistakenly triumphant in my decision to erase these sordid pieces of "film." but now iPhoto is laughing in my face. now, do i delete them permanently or once again go over these events and re-remember why i wanted to forget them in the first place?
(of course i went back through them.)
the contents of my trash folder fascinates me. much of them are poor pictures i took of myself. (narcissist.) many are of a person i definitely intended to forget. and the rest are tiny pieces of my life i didn't want. if only it were that easy to get rid of excess emotional crap. even then i'm sure there would eventually be a "trash folder" ready to bring it all back up. (i really wanted to make it all a metaphor. i couldn't resist.)
to summarize i thought i'd share one of the abandoned photographs:
brilliant.
there's so much to be said about pictures that weren't worth saving. and what's not in that folder says so much as well.
blows my freaking mind.
oh, and i never found that picture. sucks.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
An Open Letter to Cody Wody Gallo
You are the person who encouraged me most recently to start up writing again. So, I'm going to write to you.
The mixture of sadness and pride I feel when I think about your departure is hard to explain. But I'll try. The sad part is easiest to verbalize. I'm gonna miss you (a bajillion times more than I already do.) And fear has found a quiet place in the back of my brain. I don't want you to get hurt. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to push that thought away without crying. I don't want you to get hurt emotionally either. I don't want you to be come back jaded or haunted. You're such a passionate person I can't imagine how that's possible. But I still wish I could keep you from it. I want to keep you here to draw stars on your arm with Natasha and watch reality tv with me.
But the pride I feel for who you are and why you'll be there puts up a good fight with my sadness. The thought of discouraged, fearful families getting to know you as a member of the US fills me with so much pride and thanks. I'm so glad it's your face they'll see amidst a mass of camouflage. I'm so glad it's you, with your quick wit and tree-huggin' love, that other soldiers will be looking up to. I'm just so glad it's you I will think of when I think of this war. You have added so much joy and hope to my life and it's only fair that the rest of the world get to experience you. I guess I'm really just learning to share.
So please be careful. I really need you around. I expect you to hightail it to LA when you're back on US soil, (by way of Maryland, I'm sure.) So hurry. I need someone to babysit my baby.
I love you and I'll miss you, Wody.
Always,
Linds
The mixture of sadness and pride I feel when I think about your departure is hard to explain. But I'll try. The sad part is easiest to verbalize. I'm gonna miss you (a bajillion times more than I already do.) And fear has found a quiet place in the back of my brain. I don't want you to get hurt. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to push that thought away without crying. I don't want you to get hurt emotionally either. I don't want you to be come back jaded or haunted. You're such a passionate person I can't imagine how that's possible. But I still wish I could keep you from it. I want to keep you here to draw stars on your arm with Natasha and watch reality tv with me.
But the pride I feel for who you are and why you'll be there puts up a good fight with my sadness. The thought of discouraged, fearful families getting to know you as a member of the US fills me with so much pride and thanks. I'm so glad it's your face they'll see amidst a mass of camouflage. I'm so glad it's you, with your quick wit and tree-huggin' love, that other soldiers will be looking up to. I'm just so glad it's you I will think of when I think of this war. You have added so much joy and hope to my life and it's only fair that the rest of the world get to experience you. I guess I'm really just learning to share.
So please be careful. I really need you around. I expect you to hightail it to LA when you're back on US soil, (by way of Maryland, I'm sure.) So hurry. I need someone to babysit my baby.
I love you and I'll miss you, Wody.
Always,
Linds
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
