We'll Be Back After This Brief Intermission

I've still got Answer #10, the final answer to the mystery of life, to write about, but quite frankly, it's really hot, I am about to squeeze in a quick trip to Santa Fe, and my mind is not on the task. I don't mean to keep all five of my readers in suspense but trust me it's not like there will be some giant reveal, or plot twist that will change everything that went before. For that go watch "The Usual Suspects", because Answer #10 is not Kaiser Soze.
But I also promise it won't be a giant letdown, like many a final episode of a TV series that you have faithfully watched for many seasons. (I'm talking to YOU "Battlestar Galactica"! What the hell was with that last episode?)

Back to blogging next week. In the meantime here are some random pretty pictures from my Pinterest page.

Why hello gentlemen.........

Answer #9- Do The Right Thing

Life isn't always fair but you can be. OK, that's it. Bye.
Oh, I guess I should expound on that. Well maybe that's the problem, too much expounding. If all the world religions would just stick to their Golden Rule, Karma thing they wouldn't need all that other 'stuff', the parts that somehow gets obsessed over, the dogma, the weird rituals, the ancient tribal customs and prejudices, the mind-numbing and random rules, the misinterpretations, the mistranslations, the 'we just threw that part in because it benefits us politically', the 'don't ask too many questions' warnings, the need to control peoples' minds and limit their free thinking.....then we'd just have the boiled down essentials. At least atheists and agnostics can keep it simple.

 “Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind.” 
Bertrand Russell

Or as the Dalai Lama says simply, my religion is compassion. So unless you subscribe to Ayn Rand and just hate people in general, I think it is safe to say if you are kind and forgiving, to yourself as well as others,(self loathing people tend to project that hatred onto everyone else) then not only is the world better but your own life tends to be better. At least you won't have assassins on the rooftop across the street waiting to pick you off. Unless you're in a war zone.....then duck.
That's not to say that doing the right thing always works out well. One of my personal heroes of World War II is Raoul Wallenberg, the Swedish diplomat who risked his life saving Jews in Hungary by granting them safe haven at the Swedish embassy in Budapest and then helping get them to safety. He didn't start out to be a hero he just couldn't NOT do something. For all his courage he was taken by the Soviet invading army at the end of the war and sent to a Russian prison camp where he disappeared forever, alone and forgotten.
This is his last know photograph:

And he's really not forgotten:

I guess none of us know how we would react in such circumstances. Sometimes we mean to do the right thing and it is just too hard. Sometimes we wonder if most people are worth the effort. Sometimes we're just in a bad mood.
If you want a real microcosm of the best and worst in human behaviour just go to any middle school or high school. We all read about the bullies and the bullied. (I am now eternally grateful I was part of the latter camp as I don't think I could handle shuddering every time I thought of what an ass I had been as a teenager). Part of me hopes that there is no such thing as reincarnation because it would involve going through school again.

                                                               (That's me in the middle....)
 I know it made me a tougher person, all that mocking and harassment, but if I'd have known about home schooling back then I would have been begging for it. Except I wouldn't have met one of my best friends, Kath. But I have no illusions about the innocence of childhood. They can be some nasty savage little beasts.

Of course, when I was teaching high school it was easy to see the atrocious behaviour in teens, the willful cruelty, the lack of empathy, the need for revenge and punishment, because it was usually in front of your face ( breaking up a girl fight was always a dangerous enterprise, as I found out the hard way). The good, the kind, the helpful often went under the radar unless it was a school-wide campaign like the yearly Canned Food Drive for the South Plains Food Bank (BTW they are short right now, in summer, so a donation would really help). I always tried to acknowledge those students who managed to show true heart and good will, just as I tried to be as fair as I could with all my students, although that was pretty much a Herculean task because you only had to wander casually by a small group eyeing you with malevolence to know someone was complaining about "that bitch who gave me the bad grade".
I got a call from my daughter's junior high principal once that she was in trouble for hitting another student. This rather surprised and troubled me until I found out she had hit a boy who was bullying another child. Good for her. She stepped in when she had to.
Maybe we all just a need a code to live by. The Golden Rule is definitely a good one. We can also ask, not just: What would Jesus Do? What would Buddha do? What would Anne Frank do? What would Atticus Finch do? What would Harry Potter do? But what would I do?

Answer #8- Just Move

Shiva, Lord of the Dance, is often depicted in this symbolic pose holding the universe in balance between creation and destruction. In the dance of the cosmos everything is in cycle, in constant motion and transition. Every atom is moving. Nothing is ever still. We're all just vibrations of energy. As I sit here typing I am on a speeding planet  revolving from day to night and orbiting around its' sun in a solar system slowly moving outward from the center of the Milky Way as our galaxy whirls through space with infinite other galaxies hurling to God knows where. (And here am I scared to get on a roller coaster.)
 I think Vincent understood the Cosmic Dance.

We are all, always in motion, and as mammals with muscle, joints, and bones, we are designed to move. Maybe we're not all thoroughbred racers or muscled beasts of prey but movement engages us with life, fills us with energy, sharpens the mind and the senses, boosts our serotonin, clears the cobwebs, and literally makes us feel more alive. It doesn't matter the age or even our obstacles.

 Twyla Tharp at Seventy:

I never imagined I would be like I am at 62. In my Twenties I would have pictured me as a white haired old lady knitting in a rocking chair. Knitting is good. I do that. I have occasionally rocked (I went to a Radiohead concert in March) but I realize I have been so busy during my life, so full of movement, that I never noticed I was "getting older" I can't imagine stopping now. Let me clarify that I hate exercise. It's a chore. I have tricked myself all these years by disguising it in dance. (Or walking the dog.) And I have motivated myself by doing it for a living. Getting paid is a great incentive to move. And even though I can't do all the things I used to do (Oh stop showing off, Twyla!) I can still embarrass my children by turning on my iTunes and doing my interpretive dance moves in the kitchen. In the kitchen in my town on this planet in this solar system in this universe I am dancing with the stars.
No, that's not going to appear on YouTube anytime soon so here's my hand in action.

And here are some of the members of my Yoga class, many my age or older. The lady on the far right, Tommie, is in her Eighties. Her philosophy of life is: "Whatever floats your boat". Look at them go!

Answer #7- Acknowledge the Darkness

So I thought I'd take on a light topic for Friday. Yeah, maybe it's not a good idea. I should leave the discussion of Good and Evil to greater minds than mine, like Niezsche and Jung and Kierkegaard and Homer Simpson. But I do think it is important to know we have darkness in us, and that there is darkness everywhere in the world. The truly good person, not just a "nice" person, knows this and recognizes this and then makes a choice, knowing that we all have a bit of 'creepy' inside us. Sometimes in our dreams we are seeing and doing things that shock us in our waking life, and make us grateful for that morning alarm clock (Aauurgh, I was a pansexual zombie! And my teeth were falling out! And I had bad hair! Where did that come from?) Jung calls all those uncomfortable, unacceptable feeling we have our "Shadow". If we deny the Shadow it only grows stronger.

If we acknowledge it then we have power over it. (Remember the weeping televangelist in the news a few years ago who went on and on about the evils of sex and then was found in a motel with a hooker? Textbook case.) I think I really dumbed down Carl Jung there but I only have a limited space (or attention span). Nonetheless, darkness is an interesting topic for artists and actors Who doesn't relish dressing up as a psychopathic villain or femme fatale and just pretending to be evil? Oh, maybe that's me....... again.......Catharsis in action. But it makes me wonder, do real psychopaths have a Shadow, and is that shadow an angel?
And if we don't have a dark side then why are we so attracted to shows like Dexter, or Breaking Bad, or even the interminable CSI series? In Dexter we are literally rooting for a stone cold killer, but one with a code, at least. Now there's a guy who struggles with his Shadow, and then sort of lets it win. In the fantasy world we have the hero and the arch-nemesis: Sherlock and Moriarty, Batman and the Joker, Superman and Zod, Buffy and, well, lots of vampires , with the implication that they are really two sides of the same coin (again with the Shadow).

Even the gospel of Mark sends Jesus into the desert for 40 days for a chat with Satan. What else is this but a conversation with the dark side, and a final decision to never let it have power over him?
Most of my artwork tends to be sunny with a side of cute, sometimes mysterious or abstract, sometimes just slapdash and incoherent. But here are a series of abstract images I created for a small art journal called Noir. (and yes I love Film Noir and Noir fiction from the 40's, pitch black and dialogue dripping with acid).
  The first image acknowledges the death of a friend in 2005, and a brief note I wrote in my journal about it. Art with a back story is still hard for me, hence the safety of the abstract. One day I will do something to express the loss of a student of mine who was murdered in 2004. But not yet.

Answer #6- Be A Friend

I don't know how much more I can say on this topic because it is so obvious. Being a friend sounds more true than 'having friends', which sounds more acquisitive and passive rather than pro-active. It's not always easy. People are complicated and annoying and unpredictable and full of weird quirks and messy problems and irritating habits. Or am I just talking about me? Probably. Even as a high-functioning introvert who needs her alone time, dammit, I still need my friends near and far. And more so as I get older. I treasure the ones I have nurtured and kept, even those I lost touch with and rediscovered. Thank you e-mail and Facebook.
  Even if you despair of humankind or just hate people in general, you still need friends. Probably more so. True friendship usually surprises you or sneaks up on you, and when you look back you can't even remember the moment you first met because it seems you've always known each other.
Here is a rogues' gallery of some of my friends. If I left someone out they either hate having their photo taken (Lynda!) or I haven't seen them in awhile and don't have a recent photo (Jan, Irene). Or I have never actually met them in person (Judy). Or, like at an Academy Awards thank you speech I am so flustered I left out someone (who might never speak to me again). I hope not.

 In order:
Kathy (2004)
Julie (2000)
Danny (1978)
Donna (1967)  (Where are you, Donna? I have Googled you everywhere.)
Luke (1973)
Jeri and Toni (2010)
Lyn and Donniece (2010)
Deb (2011)
Suzanne and Galina (2003)
Kate (2011)

J

And that's not even counting my Facebook friends, my book club friends, my quilting friends, my artist friends, my dancer friends, my Yoga friends and my former students. Wow. How lucky I am.

Answer #5- Make 'em Laugh

"From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend reading it. "
Groucho Marx

It dawned on me recently that I would rather make people laugh than make them think. I don't know what that says about me but both of those are pretty hard tasks anyway. Preston Sturgess, one of the great film directors of the 1930's realized, and often emphasized this in his films. While the country struggled through the misery of the Great Depression he felt it an honored task to make funny movies to keep people uplifted. Laughing in the face of adversity is not making light of the situation but it certainly lightens the load of the situation. A good laugh releases anxiety and tension and fear. Laughing literally helps you live longer, although not in the face of an oncoming truck. (bada bing)

 My Dad was always one for a joke. usually the same joke, over and over again. He had an LP record album of classic Yiddish humour called "You Don't Have to Be Jewish" that he played until the grooves wore off (for those under the age of 40 who have never seen a vinyl record grooves are the.....oh, you get the idea). He then proceeded to repeat every gag on that record at any opportunity, having not quite mastered the technique of leaving them wanting more. But at least I grew up laughing (and crying, and screaming, and sulking). My parents even took the whole family to see Some Like It Hot at the drive-in when I was 11 years old (that's OK, I saw Psycho when I was nine) and I thought it was hilarious. I somehow got the whole set-up of the humour and most of the punchlines. I also got an earful of Mom complaining about that see-through dress Marilyn Monroe wore.

I also grew up guffawing over Cary Grant's great double takes in Arsenic and Old Lace, Rosalind Russell 's Auntie Mame and her questionable child-rearing, the Marx Brother's mayhem, the Three Stooges eye-gouging, and James Stewart talking to an invisible rabbit. From the slapstick to the dry-as-bone, from Monty Python to The Blues Brothers, I can pretty much find something that tickles my mind and convulses those diaphragm muscles.
   Just as with people who can't appreciate beauty, I always feel there is a part of the soul that is malnourished in people who do not have a sense of humour. It doesn't have to be MY sense of humour. I don't think my husband understands my Eddie Izzard fixation. I, on the other hand, have never understood the appeal of Adam Sandler. And this may sound like heresy but I don't think the movie, Bridesmaids, was that funny. I think I chuckled about twice. Maybe it's a generational thing. I though bodily functions were funny when I was about four.
 So, let's get dangerous here. I think the problem with religious Fundamentalists is that they have no sense of humour. They are so black and white they miss the subtle shades of grey. And shades of pink and mauve and taupe and chartreuse and cerulean..........And humour is all about shading. It's about observing the foibles of humanity and not exactly judging, but rather using it as a springboard to satirize, mock, parody, and comment on.

 I also think Jesus was a funny guy. I think people often miss that when they assume he spoke in pious tones and always had a freshly laundered robe and shiny hair full of God highlights. Take for example this scene: the rich, privileged kid comes up to Jesus and asks in all sincerity how to get into heaven. Jesus already has this pampered pup figured out but he tells him to sell all he has to the poor then come and follow him just to see how he reacts. I think he's actually teasing him. Awkward pause from the kid as this sinks in. In modern times that kid would be pondering giving up his pick up truck, his iPod, his laptop, his gym membership, his giant screen TV, his trip to Cabos, his bar tabs....etc. Jesus didn't really judge that boy. I think he was testing him, knowing he was asking something nearly impossible: wandering around with a bunch of hairy, unbathed men from town to town, getting fed free meals, and talking about how the Kingdom of Heaven is inside you, even if the Romans come to kill you. And then Jesus delivers his punchline to his apostles "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven" (yes, those Sunday School lessons paid off. I didn't even have to look that up). Rather than picturing him delivering it somberly with a faint choir of angels in the background, picture him saying that with a bit of mirth (thanks, Donniece!) and with a twinkle in his eye, because picturing a large, unhappy camel shoved by his ass through a needle's eye is actually an amusing image. I hope he got a good chuckle at least from his crowd. I often think Jesus did some eye-rolling  when his disciples failed to grasp the meaning of some of his parables, but that's just me.
I have no idea how to end THIS blog either. I like to make people laugh but I am the world's worst joke teller. I rely instead on my razor sharp wit and biting sarcasm. Of which that last sentence is an example......
So let's just fall back on some more images beginning with the master of the double and sometimes triple take, Cary Grant, followed by a small sampling of various kinds of funny. Enjoy. Laugh a little:

                                               Edgar Allen Bro

A special thank you to Pinterest.com and whoever invented Memes.

Answer #4- Be Astounded By Beauty

Astounded! That sounds a bit dramatic. But if you are not astounded and had your socks knocked off then maybe it's not true beauty. Maybe it's just pretty or pleasant or appealing or charming. True beauty is not soothing. It can be violent and disturbing and unsettling. It can reduce you to tears or make you struggle for breath or words. It can take you out of yourself and into something so large and vast it can be terrifying and blissful all at once. Sounds a bit scary, eh?

“There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

We often associate beauty with people, and there it gets a bit subjective. I might think an actor is gorgeous, someone else thinks they are funny looking. I might surprise someone by saying Ryan Gosling is boring looking and his eyes are too close together, and they might think me insane. It's also a cultural thing (check out any beauty pageant for a really narrow parameter of appeal). And an historical thing. Renaissance Madonnas can be a pasty, plain looking bunch to our eyes (except for Botticelli's dreamy ladies, IMHO). Scientists try to analyze faces by mathematical proportions, like a Golden Section of features, to see if there is an ideal beauty and only succeed in creating a bland stereotype that cannot begin to explain the elusive qualities of charisma and sex appeal. Although Queen Nefertiti certainly holds up well.

But apart from physical beauty there is that whole Other out there in the world, the beautiful around us. Usually found in Nature and Art but often in small hidden things like gestures and moments and meanings.
I'm not even going to try and expand on this conversation because it's too big. I took a graduate course in Aesthetics while in college, a whole semester of trying to define was is beautiful, and we barely scratched the surface.  What is beauty? How do we define it? Are there universal attributes? Are we all born with a sense of knowing or needing the beautiful? Humans may or may not be the only creatures that can contemplate beauty but that doesn't mean all of them do. In fact, on the flip side, many people delight in the ugly and the grotesque. It's sometimes a fine line. Hence the popularity of tattoos.
My point is that we don't often seek out beauty or let it enter our lives because we are too busy doing other things. We don't think it is important. But we sense when something is lacking in our lives.We don't foster a love of beauty in the education of our children or in the culture that surrounds us. Our cities often build ugly and cheap because the planners see the dollar signs and not the quality of life. We settle for the tacky and mundane because that is what is offered us. (My challenge should be to go to a Wal-Mart and see if I can find an object of beauty). Maybe if you're financially struggling beauty is the last thing on your mind.
Every time I watch a British police drama they always end up tracking down a criminal in a place like this:

Maybe beauty is a luxury for the rich. No. It's not. Beauty is for the senses. Seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, smelling. Most of us have most of those senses working. They came free when we were born.
And we all tend to drift towards one kind of beauty or another. My sister loves opera, especially Wagner and the Ring Cycle. The beauty of this aural/visual/emotional extravaganza that goes on forever makes her happy.

Myself, I prefer visual art and the physical and emotional beauty of dance. And the truly great dancers, like Baryshnikov, are a once in a lifetime moment when seen onstage.

And that's another reason the arts should be available to everyone. In schools and in public places, not just in museums and on stages. Without beauty our souls never fully open up, they shrivel up and withdraw, and we compensate by growing a hard, shiny surface and sealing off the depths.
I don't have a snappy ending for this blog so here are some small shots of beauty.

Falling Stars

Do you remember still the falling stars
that like swift horses through the heavens raced
and suddenly leaped across the hurdles
of our wishes--do you recall? And we
did make so many! For there were countless numbers
of stars: each time we looked above we were
astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,
while in our hearts we felt safe and secure
watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,
knowing somehow we had survived their fall.

Ranier Maria Rilke

And here's a free tour of the art of Vincent Van Gogh: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dipFMJckZOM

It's  a quickie video, not anywhere near the real thing. Not like that first moment when you round a corner of the Chicago Art Institute and there is his haunting face gazing at you, the paint so rich and inviting, your fingers itching to reach out, your heart beating a little faster, as if you are in love, and you realize 'now I am in the presence of beauty'.