Public Exposure

Believe it or not, I am totally taken in by Facebook. It is delightful! It is definitely a different world, one I'm not used to being in because I come out of a past that didn't include advertising yourself for everyone to see.

I am fascinated by the concept that the kids today won't know what it's like to live a local life. Today's kids are taking for granted how public they are. With websites like MySpace and Facebook giving them places to publicly expose themselves, they will never truly have privacy.

But they won't care because it's just the way life is for them. It is the air they breathe...they aren't aware there is any other way to be.

Fascinating.

Yay! I Got It To Work!

I finally figured it out. The workaround was a pain, but I did it. I got my SWF file converted to a MOV then uploaded it to YouTube. I can't believe I posted on YouTube. What is the world coming to????



Here's what I had to do. Flash 8 wouldn't preserve the transitions so I had to revert to Flash 5. Flash 5 didn't want to maintain the audio so once I exported it as an MOV, I opened it in QuickTime then saved it as a DV. I imported the DV into iMovies where I added the audio back in, having to re-edit it. Then I saved it again as an MOV.

In the process, it kept getting compressed. I'm not pleased with the quality, but what can I say? The SWF looks clean and sharp and for what I will eventually be using this for, I won't have to compress it. Thank God!

My first Flash project, done.

Public Vulnerability

Photo of Dezra taken at MacNiven's. How I want the public to see me--reflected through three sets of glass and reversed in a mirror. Safe.

I sent this post to a friend:

Aaaaaack! I just joined Facebook. I hate it! I hate it! I feel exposed and vulnerable.

So why did I join? Damn it! I'm a New Media grad student. I should understand these kinds of things. I should be up on this type of stuff.

Ick.

I just want to go wrap myself up in a blanket and hide in a closet.

But I figure if Beth H. can do it, then I can. She said that she thought she should be connected to the students using current technology, so that's why she joined. She has approached it professionally, which is the only way I'll approach it.

But I hate being "out there" where I'm on display to people I don't know. Gaaack! God, I can't believe what I've done to myself. I have a blog...that I don't advertise, but I keep it current. I have a photo account on Flickr, that I don't advertise but I keep it current. (And I was pinged on that one within minutes of uploading a specific photo...someone wanted to add it to his Flickr account...and I said YES...ugh, can you believe this???? After that guy pinged me, I had to go for a walk...I hated how I felt...exposed and vulnerable.) And now I'm on Facebook. I feel like I've set myself up to be invaded.

I hate it.

And I will probably join Second Life, which I abhor on so many levels.

But I can't get past the fact that this is our life and culture currently and if I'm to be part of it, I need to understand it. And if I'm in New Media, I should understand the new media social life. I have lived so long on past traditions, never being the one to embrace what is current. I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be forward-thinking and -living. Sigh.

So I've put myself out there in cyberspace where anyone and everyone can see me. I just need to make sure that what they see doesn't truly invade my privacy.

-d

Flash Movie

I have been playing around with Flash 8. Check out what I did. It's a link on the sidebar under "Check This Out." It's called, "My First Flash Attempt." (Forget it, it didn't work. I can't ever keep a link to my Yahoo group and that's where it's living. Yahoo is one of the only places I can find that supports SWF files, but the link keeps breaking.)

I'm trying to create a template in Flash where all I have to do is switch out the photos. In November I will be photographing an event. I have been asked to create some kind of slide show presentation that they can run daily with photos taken from the previous day. I considered creating a Power Point presentation, but I was asked to do it in Flash, if at all possible.

I don't know Flash, so I've been reading everything I can about it then playing around. The Flash file I created looks wonderful on the outside, but the file itself is a mess! I have so many different symbols in the library that I have no idea what they do and everything is so scattered, it's pathetic. There's no way I could swap out the photos in any timely fashion. I have Movie Clips and Graphics and when I scrub, some things "work" and others don't.

I have since figured out a lot of the screw ups and I think I can do what I want to do for November, which is to make a template. The movie I tried to post here took me three days to make. Today I made one in a third of the time and its library is filed nicely with all the dewey-decimals filed and in place. :)

I've joined the ranks of YouTube users hoping that I can upload the SWF file there. Ugh! I hate that. I am extremely private to the public but very open in private. I do not like having stuff just sitting out there for others to see and I'm not aware of it. I feel vulnerable.

...later...

Ok, the video I thought I'd be able to upload to YouTube and link here didn't work because it's an SWF and YouTube doesn't support SWFs. I have tried exporting the SWF as an MOV but I used a lot of transitions that my QuickTime player doesn't support so it looks crappy.

Just enjoy the flowers. The Flash presentation was all about flowers.

Grrrrrr.

Guess Who?

Elizabeth played Guess Who with the class. She took photos of everyone and enlarged them. As the class held their photos (or if they weren't there when the pictures were taken, they were given a pseudoface to hold up), it was hilarious to see a room full of three-dimensional bodies but two-dimensional heads! I just wish I had a wide-angle lens to capture the whole of the class!
This is the closest I got to a wide-angle shot of the class. I truly do wish I'd had a wide-angle lens.


I've been trying to think of witty captions...but I'm very tired this morning and my wit is gone. Tom Raymer! Help! I need your laconic humor! Or your singing pants. Either one will do.

Tears Revisited

A while ago I had an instructor tell me, "You must live a rigid life." I was dumbfounded. I said, "I don't, really." He said, "Judging by your work, your life is very rigid." I stuttered a bit and he interrupted, "No, I can tell." I immediately stopped because I knew that I wouldn't convince him otherwise so there was no point in arguing with him. I knew better. If he wanted to believe my life is rigid, no amount of arguing on my part would convince him. He was rigid in his view of me.

I was in a discussion with another couple of friends who lament the fact that we, as a culture/society, don't let our feelings show. We have been taught to hide our feelings. I agree. I have spent the last decade learning to express my feelings and going through a series of understandings regarding them. I am not afraid of my feelings. I acknowledge them and have even gone through the phase of always showing what I felt. I have since realized that honoring your feelings doesn't mean having to show them...it just means recognizing that you are having feelings and not suppressing them. So I don't always show my feelings, but that doesn't mean I don't know I'm having them.

Then I told these friends the story of when I was a year old. (If you haven't read my blog entry title "Tears" do so...it will explain what this entry is all about.) I asked them, "Do you know why I went crying to my room?"

They jumped all over the whole feeling thing..."you weren't allowed to express your tears when you were little."

I said, "No."

"Oh, but you didn't cry. You suppressed it."

"Well, yes, but that's not why I went to my room and cried."

"Society won't let us express ourselves and what we truly feel."

And as they continued on, I realized that no matter what I said, they wouldn't understand why I cried. I made mention of it but it eluded them and they directed the conversation back to feelings.

People can only hear what is inside them. For my instructor, he was extremely rigid in how he judged others...coming to conclusions about them then sticking with those conclusions no matter how wrong they are. So he judged me as being rigid...because that's what he was. For my friends, they were all about feelings and not being able to express them so they viewed me as suppressing my feelings when that wasn't what it was for me at all.

When I say "There is no out there, out there" this is what I'm referring to. We can only see outside of us what's inside of us. I learn the very most about myself when I am at odds with someone else.

Back to my story. Here is why I cried.

I saw a little girl who, by the age of 12 months, couldn't ask for help. I saw a little girl who, by the age of 12 months, didn't have a mother she could turn to for help. And no where in that story did my mother ever say she comforted me. I don't know how to ask for help. I believe I have to do it all by myself. That I am alone. And that makes me sad...knowing it was in place by the time I was a year old.

My mother was invisible and I have been battling invisibility all my life.

Downtown Revelation

I figured it out. I asked if Tourist Dezra would take that photo of the monument reflected in the windows of Chase bank and the answer is "yes" if she had seen it! I doubt she would have seen it because she would have been so overcome by the monument itself she would have been finding interesting angles looking at the monument. But Indianapolis Dezra has photographed that monument so many times that she turned away from it, bored, and was then able to look differently. The photo on the left is the only photo I took directly of the monument. I was uninspired and wanted something different so I turned away and started looking around at other things. That's when I discovered the monument in the window. And from then on I stopped seeing through Tourist Dezra's eyes and started looking at everything through Indianapolis Dezra's eyes.

I need to go through downtown Indianapolis with a real newcomer to the area...one not already so familiar with the architecture and buildings that they can no longer see Indianapolis through fresh eyes.

My next assignment, when I can get to it, is to go on a scavenger hunt. I will go downtown and as Tourist Dezra I will ask people what there is in Indianapolis that is photo-worthy. Then I will go to that place, take some photos, and ask someone already there where my next place should be. I will keep doing that just to see what Indy thinks is photo-worthy.

Tourist Experiment

I performed an experiment today. I went downtown pretending to be a tourist. I wanted to see downtown Indianapolis through the eyes of a tourist...but not just any tourist. I had to be myself. Talk about fighting off schizophrenia! :) So I was Dezra visiting a place I've lived in for over 20 years. Man. What a trip. What would I photograph? And more importantly, how? Would I photograph like a tourist and catch all the required photos? I had to battle that one.

When I hit Monument Circle, I discovered the Monument in the reflections of the windows of Chase Bank, so I took a number of photos there. But is that what Tourist Dezra--who had never been to Indy before--would do? Or would Tourist Dezra take a full-length shot of the Monument? I was in a quandary. I loved the reflection, but would I take that photo as a tourist?

As I wandered about, I saw all these newspaper stands...the colors were very bright. Not knowing if other major cities display their papers like Indy does, I figured I'd take a photo anyway--just in case this is an Indy phenomenon. I loved the colors and how they lined up in their plastic cases. And they seemed to be all over downtown.

As Indianapolis Dezra, I have been all over the War Corridor (or whatever they call it) so I wasn't sure exactly what Tourist Dezra would photograph. As I walked into the park area, I noticed a heavy, rusted chain shackling the park bench to the area. Dezra in all lives can't resist rusted chains (you should see my "rusted chain" folder on my desk top) so instead of photographing war, I photographed the chains as a metaphor for war...and how better to push the metaphor than to include my *shudder* 'war-torn' foot...bound by the chain.

Then I started thinking. Hey! I was in Boston not too long ago. What did I photograph there? I remembered that I kept photographing architecture and stairwells and textures. And what I loved most about Boston was the history and all the old buildings.
So I figured I might as well photograph some of Indy's wonderful architecture. That's when I discovered that Indy is schizophrenic! And I love it! Indy has old, historic buildings juxtaposed next to highly-reflective modern architecture. It feeds my reflection fetish and my old architecture fetish. (See the above photo of Monument Circle as an example...the old reflected in the new.) So I took some photos of the older buildings...the Scottish Rite Cathedral being one of my favorites.

One thing I know I love are the sculptures and artwork that major cities display. So as I passed by Fifth/Third Bank on my way back to my car, I stopped for a final photo shoot. I took many angles of this particular sculpture, but I loved how the flag draped in the background and how the sculpture reflected in the windows.

From my perspective, I didn't pass the experiment. I wasn't a good tourist. I passed on a lot of things that I would have taken photos of had I been Indianapolis Dezra and in doing so, I passed on photos that Tourist Dezra would have taken. I wasn't discovering Indy for the first time, but hitting places where I knew I might get good photos. Then I ignored the typical photos ops because I was afraid I was there only because Indianapolis Dezra went there. It was a really weird experience.

I need to go with someone who can help me see Indy objectively.

Downtown Indianapolis

I have been culling my photos of downtown Indianapolis. After viewing the photographic links Beth suggested regarding the New Media Consortium, I was fascinated by what people outside of Indianapolis view as photo worthy; the Slippery Noodle shingle, Dunaways, chalk marks, some sculptures, IT Room 152, the hamster tunnels. It really was intriguing.

So I decided I would go through my photos of downtown Indianapolis and see how I view Indianapolis. I went through past photos and culled about 30 of them and uploaded them to Flickr. (I have since added to that...but these photos are recent and were shot "from the hip." I didn't know what I had until I got home.) I added the link under Blog Art there on the sidebar. Check them out. Interestingly enough, I am not able to be objective!!!! I can't see how I see Indianapolis! I am so ingrained in Indianapolis that I can't step outside of myself to understand what I've photographed. Or maybe I'm so ingrained in myself that I can't step outside of myself to see my photographs objectively.

Also, I ask myself why I chose those photos from the hundreds that I have of Indianapolis? And I don't have an answer. I'm too close. I am frustrated that I'm so close to myself and the situation that I can't see it. I can't see objectively! It's like the photos and I are one and there's no stepping outside to see anything other than me. Aaaarrrgggghhh!

The second part to this post scares me. I uploaded those photos this morning. The only tag I put on them was "downtown/Indianapolis." Within minutes one of my photos had been tagged as a favorite and the originator asked permission to post it on a special site he has. (The photo of the black man.) I went to the site and it's a fabulous site but what scares me is that HE FOUND ME WITHIN MINUTES. I feel vulnerable! How did he find me? How did this photo get tagged minutes upon being posted? I am NOT advertising my site and yet...

Vulnerable. I hate feeling vulnerable.

Tears

A couple of months ago I asked my mother if she remembered what I was like as a baby. She told me a story of a time when I was just learning to walk...I was about 12 months old. We were at a friend's house and I wanted to climb up on an ottoman. So I did. But I was unbalanced and took a tumble to the floor.

"You whimpered," my mother said, "but you didn't cry. You were so cute and so small and that ottoman was so large for you!"

She said she watched me get up with tears forming in my eyes and climb back up on the ottoman.

After I got off the phone with my mother, I went into my bedroom and bawled!

My question for you is, why?

Why would that story make someone cry decades later?

I won't answer. I want you to ponder it. In a few days I'll explain why I cried.

Second Life = Plato's Cave

I sent this as an e-mail to a friend:

Second Life = Plato's Cave

The Indianapolis Star had a front page write up on Second Life. Linda showed it to me. I didn't read it...didn't have to. Linda was so dumbfounded by the whole concept she told me about it. She has never heard of Second Life. Apparently there's a gal in Indianapolis that makes virtual clothes and sells them in Second Life. Last year she made $150K. It's almost tempting to go into the program and see what I can sell, except the whole thought of creating clothes in Photoshop and selling pixels to other pixels or vectors seems ludicrous to me. And buying "real estate" that exists in some kind of ether world makes no sense to me.

You may hate Second Life because it's clunky and inefficient. I hate it on principle. I see how we are creating a place where we can go and fall asleep. It is soooooooooooooo anti-buddhist. The point of this life, according to my beliefs, is to wake up. But virtuality is a sleeping pill.

Why do we (we=the masses) hate the material world? Why do we hate our bodies? Why do we hate bumping up against anything that is fully material? This has always been the case. When Christianity began, the hermits left the world to try to live with spirit...to be "one" with God. Even buddhists will take themselves out of the world to try to get that "oneness." Christians mortified the body, trying to subject it to Spirit and we see residuals of that today. "We" truly hate the material world and it saddens me.

You are familiar with Plato's Cave, right? That's what computer gaming and Second Life and all this virtual stuff reminds me of. I see backs turned away from the world and watching shadows on the monitor.

So, on principle and according to my beliefs, I cannot and will not enter a "second life" whether it be the online community of that name or any other kind of virtual addiction.

My concern for myself is that I have entered the virtual community. You are reading it. I e-mail. I use Photoshop. I sit in front of monitors most of the day.

My concern is to not become addicted...addicted to the opium of virtuality.

What If...

I have been thinking about the What If question and decided to approach it slightly differently. I want to explore the question of major key points or turning points in my life...and what if they didn't happen?

So here goes:

1. What if my mother had backbone?
2. What if I hadn't been raised a Mormon?
3. What if I didn't believe in the Mormon concept of God?
4. (and a corollary) What if I still believed in God?
5. What if my intelligence and talents had been nurtured?
6. What if Rachel had never said, "You call that a swing? That's stiff as a board!"
7. What if I had won my freshman class secretary election?
8. What if my cousin, Patricia, had never shown me where middle C was on the piano?
9. What if my grandmother hadn't compared my slow physical development with my curvaceous cousin?
10. What if I didn't have a prominent birthmark on my face?
11. What if I had never met Laura?
12. What if my dad had made $500 a year less, which would have put us in the poor category?
13. What if my dad had made enough money to let us have extra-curricular lessons?
14. What if I didn't play the piano for my friend at Church?
15. What if I had been given the role of Mona Lisa in high school?
16. What if I had won the Key Club elections?
17. What if I hadn't won the speech contest?
18. What if I didn't hear a voice telling me to "Go on a mission?"
19. What if god didn't abandon me while on my mission?
20. What if I abandoned god right after he abandoned me instead of waiting 20 years?
21. What if my self-worth was not caught up in god's love for me?
22. What if I never married Terry?
23. What if I never had children?
24. What if my daughter never died?
25. What if I never moved to Indianapolis?
26. What if I had never met Deidre?
27. What if I had not read the book that gave me the Aha! that there is no god...at least not the way it is taught in Western religion (please, no religion comments...this is my perspective--I realize this and not everyone agrees and I accept that...the point of this blog entry is to explore my turning points and this is the most significant turning point for me.)
28. What if I chose not to go down the rabbit hole?
29. What if Deidre were still my friend?
30. What if I hadn't met Ken Wilbur, Joseph Campbell, Carolyn Myss, or Jean Houston?
31. What if I didn't get my undergraduate degree in General Studies with a strong humanities emphasis?
32. What if I didn't reside in the Underworld?
33. What if I didn't discover art?
34. or more precisely, what if art didn't discover me?
35. What if I didn't act on the whim to take N180 with Beth as the instructor?
36. What if I never met Alan?
37. What if Beth hadn't broken her finger?
38. What if I had never met Mark?
39. What if I hadn't had a gallbladder attack on Christmas Eve?
40. What if I chose to remain in the Underworld with my demons?
41. What if I chose not to honor my next Aha! and enroll in the master's program of Media Arts and Science? (I almost didn't)
42. What if I had never met Mitch?
43. What if I didn't spill red wine on white upholstery?
44. What if I didn't try to work things out first when presented with a difficult situation?
45. What if I actually earned an A- instead of the grade I was given?

And I will end it here because I'm as up-to-date as I can be. Believe it or not, that last question has totally redefined me to myself and is the most recent major life changing event and one that I will always honor. Most of what I have written has meaning mostly to me and I apologize for that because I know it makes for boring reading. But some of my questions are so personal and the story behind them is too involved.

No Out There Out There

Beth asked her class a series of questions...none of which I'm going to answer. No reason to. However, she said something that I've thought about today. She said, "I ask myself these questions all the time."

I started thinking...what questions do I ask myself all the time. Especially, what question do I ask myself all the time that has the potential to change my life? I actually have an answer! That question is:

What is it about MYSELF that makes me react the way I do to a person/situation/thing?

I believe that there is no "out there out there." If I react to, say, a person in a negative way, then I have to look inside myself to figure out why I am doing so--I don't look out at the person and ask why they are the way they are...I have no control over that. But I do have control of myself and in pondering through the question as to why I am reacting like I am, I have come to some incredible self-understandings.

Once I gain an understanding of myself in the situation, I gain the ability to understand the other person and can release any negative thoughts or feelings I may have.

The struggle to understand myself, though, is difficult and sometimes doesn't resolve itself. But when it does...

...I am at peace.

There really is no out there out there.

Letting Go

Beth got my heart racing yesterday after she posted her logo on her blogsite. (http://seeing-sideways.blogspot.com/ May 2007 Graphics for NMC) I've been mulling it over, trying to figure out why and I realized it's because she let go of an attachment!

Hmmmm how else to say that so that it is dynamic?

It's like Beth took her hand and wiped it across her art desk, scattering all the paints and brushes and canvases, leaving her with a clear workspace where she could start all over!

It's a transition point. Letting go of what is and opening up to what may be.

When I saw that she didn't use her eye logo and that the type and font was no longer conventionally pieced together, I felt a huge release.

I am always excited when a "letting go" takes place. In letting go of an attachment to something, you open yourself up--like an empty vessel waiting to be filled with something new. It's an extremely frightening thing to do because you don't know what will replace what you've let go. Sometimes nothing. Sometimes something absolutely foreign and uncomfortable. But sometimes something beautiful and fulfilling.

It's an adventure to let go. It signifies forward movement and a willingness to embrace risk. It's turning your back to the past and looking to the future. It doesn't mean that what you let go of won't follow or find you again. It's just that when it does, you'll know if it's worth embracing again.

I love letting go. It scares the hell out of me and I don't do it well at all. But when I do, I know I'm in for a ride.

Elusive Photo

Everytime I open my blog, my profile photo is gone and I have to reconnect to it. So, instead of directing the blog to where I'm keeping the photo, I've uploaded it here on the blogsite so that blogger doesn't have to leave the house in order to find it. Dumb program. ;) So ignore this post. It's nothing, really. Just a way to link to my profile photo.

Nesting Sideways

My friend Stephanie asked me if I would help her make this photo softer. Because I know Stephanie well enough to know what she likes, my mind didn't have far to scramble to come up with the softness I knew she'd like.








This is what I came up with. It's very simple but very effective. She asked me to emphasize the nest without losing the hands and she wanted it softened. I know she loves muted greens so I kept the green background. Always a woman prefers to be seen as beautiful and although I suspect the woman holding the nest is very earthy and therefore would not mind her wonderful, earthy hands being shown as they are, the softness I added to her hands only emphasizes the nest.



Stephanie and her mother-in-law needed the image because they had been asked to participate in a quilt by making a quilt block for a newborn baby. This is how they used it. It is quite lovely...not a typical baby quilt block. But, then, that's Stephanie. :)


Seeing sideways and working with clients can be very tricky. How does one work with a client and give them what they want/need while being innovative (seeing sideways) and still be true to their own artistic vision? That's a real tall order! As I worked with my client (Stephanie), I had to take into consideration her final output. Knowing that she, herself, is an artist, I had to deliver to her something she could work with that would fulfill her artistic vision. She gave me the elements and parameters to work with -- a photo that she wanted softened, with the hands still visible yet it had to emphasize the nest. I don't consider what I did to the photo anything spectacular -- I didn't "see sideways" with it because in the end I knew that Stephanie would take care of that part. What I did, though, was deliver something that I felt good about, that I knew she would like and could use, and that was still within my own artistic sensabilities. The "seeing sideways" came from Stephanie. She and her MIL created a piece of art that is not typical for a baby quilt. Stephanie was true to her artistic vision, making a baby quilt block that has a sweet theme to it but done in such a Stephanie way as to make it unusual.

I wonder about seeing sideways...when does one be different and when does one not? I believe that the crux of seeing sideways is being true to yourself. All things considered, being true to yourself, to your own voice, to your own vision as you work with others is the germ of seeing sideways. No, I didn't do anything special to the photo. But when I finished working with it, it felt good to me. Why? The final product was not going to be mine, but Stephanie's, so I gave her something to work with. Being true to myself in this regard was not about producing a piece of art that is different from all the rest but about my love for Stephanie and giving her what she could use. So...sometimes seeing sideways isn't even about the art but above and beyond that....

Blogging From The Subconscious

I have let my blog sit for a while because I chose to not continue in Beth's class. Not because I don't like the class. I do. It is a powerful class. But because of personal reasons that challenged my integrity. I was technically not enrolled in the class and even though I had Beth's permission to sit in on it, I could not do so with a clear conscience.

However, Beth has given me access to her blogsite, so I will be able to watch from afar and see how the class unfolds.

In the meantime, I have started this blog and got past the first post so I might as well continue even though I doubt anyone but myself will ever see it since I won't advertise it. Maybe blogging without an audience -- or with a projected audience -- an audience projected from my own subconscious -- will make for interesting reading...or not. :)

Reveries

The next morning I had one last thought I wanted to share with Beth regarding the egg experience:


More reveries on the Egg.

It's interesting that I have given more word-space to Bertha and my experience of her than I have to my own egg. But as I think about it, why not? Isn't that the purpose of my whole experience of my egg? To make it a thing of forgotten-ness?

And yet, I can't help but think that Bertha and my egg are related -- they are opposite ends of a continuum. Where Bertha's purpose (for me) is existence, my egg's purpose is oblivion. Where Bertha becomes a living, breathing soul, my egg is snuffed out. I have more connection to Bertha than I do my egg. I think of your egg and I get excited. I think of my egg and I don't feel a thing. My egg went out with the trash today.

Am I sad? No. Because there must be ends to a continuum. In a dual world, there are ends. Bertha is one end, my egg is the other. Both eggs hold the end points so that all the other eggs on the continuum can exist somewhere.

Don't think I didn't think about the assignment over the weekend. Just because I called it Oubliette does not mean I forgot the assignment. I didn't. I seeded the assignment then acted on my gut...no thought involved. Which is why I can honestly say my egg is Oubliette. My egg doesn't live in me anywhere and yet I presented the whole of my assignment in complete accordance with my artistic soul. I put my egg in an oubliette and walked away from it.

I had to...

...in order to experience the wholeness of Bertha and the completeness of whatever my soul tapped into in guiding me through this.


P.S. Can an artist truly portray Oubliette and be successful? Think about it... I do and I'm stumped.

A Birth

I couldn't get Bertha's "death" and Humpty Dumpty out of my head. As I left class and walked to the bus stop, I had another realization. So when I got home, I sent Beth this:

As I walked to the bus, it dawned on me that Bertha didn't die...Bertha was BORN. Why else did you just "happen" to call her Bertha? Just think of what she's been born into...she is inspiration and beauty. It was the cracks in her shell that caught your attention and began her birth. More and more cracks appeared, like a hatchling pecking its way into existence. And it is the cracks that draw you to her even now that she has evolved. The cracks...isn't it the cracks in us all that makes us the most interesting?

You will take her birth and turn her into a work of beauty. That is her birth...from a humble egg into a beautiful piece of art. How much higher calling than that is there?

Humpty Dumpty Philosophy

My next post to Beth is as follows:


This is where I draw my inspiration for Humpty Dumpty....from William Irwin Thompson:

Drawing from the old nursery rhyme, William Irwin Thompson sees Humpty Dumpty as "the cosmic egg," an image of "the immortal soul before its Fall into time." But after this "neither God's animals nor His angels can put him back into the world beyond time." In The Time Falling Bodies Take to Light, he continues:

. . . the universe is an egg that shatters as it expands to begin its career of unfoldment in time. As an archetypal image of primordial unity, the cosmic egg suggests that there is unity and fragmentation, eternity and time. The Fall into time is not so much an event itself as the conditioning of time-space out of which all events arise. . . . the Fall of the One into the many, the emergence of the physical universe out of the transcendent God, the Fall of the soul into time . . . . The Fall is not only once and long ago; it is recapitulated in each instant of consciousness. The unfallen world beyond time remains as a background to the figured beats of the heart in our world of serial progression.


I'm done philosophizing about Bertha.

Cosmic Egg

In the cosmic scheme of things, the egg has been represented as the Cosmic Egg. I told Beth about this over the weekend and how the nursery rhyme about Humpty Dumpty has cosmic overtones.

When Beth showed Bertha's "death" I immediately sent Beth an email during class. This is what I wrote:



When I saw your video of Bertha, I couldn't help but think:

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses and all the King's Men
couldn't put Humpty together again.

Remember I told you about the cosmic egg falling into duality?

I am so sorry but so excited at the same time. Bertha was more than an egg scheduled for plastic surgery, she was the cosmic egg coming into existence.

How much more profound can you be than that? You had a very special egg.....

Oubliette

I do not blog well. I don't read blogs if I can help it and I surely don't write them--my first blog, encouraged by Beth, was created almost a year ago and I've written nothing since. My musings tend to be personal and directed to a specific person. It's in directing my writing to a specific person that I can organize my thoughts and deliver a voice. But...since I recognize blogging as part of current culture, I guess I ought to get involved.

During class, I sent the following to Beth. I figured since it is class-related, I ought to share it with the class. So here it is, uncensored (though censoring is not an issue):

Beth:

My presentation went exactly how I planned it! In fact, it went even better than I planned it. My theme or focus for my egg was The Forgotten. I expected all eggs to have been given some kind of personality or significance and knew that attention would be given to each egg. I opted to address the "forgotten" egg, the egg who no one pays attention to, who gets overlooked, who is invisible.

I chose "Oubliette" as my title because an oubliette is where they put people to forget about them. I took my egg home, took a photo of it amongst a bunch of trash, then promptly forgot about it. I went on with life...went to the Commencement dinner and met Bertha, went to Commencement and didn't think about eggs at all. Today I chronicled my weekend and was forced to think about the egg long enough to put together the presentation.

I focused on the theme -- Oubliette. Every element I chose was chosen with that in mind. There is a lot of symbolic meaning about being forgotten in that short movie....

When I presented, I walked up, downloaded the movie, played it, then sat down. I didn't say a word...I didn't draw any more attention to my presentation than I had to. I was concerned you would start asking me questions about my experience...instead, you played perfectly into the whole scenario...you talked about Bertha!

And no one remembers my presentation.

Oubliette.