Dreams as a Refuge (for adventure)

    When the world is wanting I can always count on my dreams to give me refuge.  My dreams do not adhere to any of the laws. Truly anything can happen. Most of the time it does. Have you ever initiated a self destruct on a solar space station after being invaded by phosphorus based aliens and felt the debris as you escaped into a holographically generated ship? No. Well I have. And that dream is boring compared to others.
    That’s the type of dream I love. The extreme, fantastic, action oriented kind. The kind where I can manipulate my world. Fly on my fancy. Create fire in my hands. Move my surrounding. In my dreams I’m basically Merlin. I always wake from this type of dream inspired. Inspired to write, to paint, or just live more fully.

List of Greatest Dream (likely to inspire a novel):

1. Family of the Light/Family of the Dark: There was a familial personification of good and evil. A never ending family feud (with the cosmos at stake). Insert love story and you’ve got a great time.
2. Battle for the Station: Partially described above.
3. Indiana Jones Style: There was some type of governmental take over. Life is in martial law. A trip to an ancient temple with a talking idol sheds light on this sinister cycle starting at the dawn of time every so years the world is on the brink of destruction due to a malicious force. This time it was closer than ever before. We stop it.

    Ultimately sleeping is rarely restful. Life and I do not stop when my head hits the pillow. That would be too easy. Life goes on and my dreams continue to be a source of excitement and despair. It will always be my refuge.

Courage

cour·age/ˈkərij/

Noun:

The ability to do something that frightens one. Strength in the face of pain or grief

Courage is one of the most subjective qualities. It can get convoluted in the vanity of our culture but if we look to the definition the true concept of courage is the most admirable quality a person can possess. The idea of facing that which you fear or that which causes you pain is unbelievably out of character for our species. We are innately cowardly and fearful of well...everything. So if we can overcome this disability of our species it is a remarkable feat. We have grandiose connotations of courage. It's sneaking into a secret enemy base. It's running into a burning building to save a child. That is admirable and courageous but if we limit our attention to just that we miss some of the most honest actions of courage. It is courageous to face someone who hurt you. It is courageous to speak in class if you have a fear of public speaking. It is courageous to ask a girl to prom when you fear rejection. It is courageous to continue on, when someone special to you has passed. It is courageous to vocalize a dissenting opinion when you fear ostracism. Almost every day we display some level of courage. To simply live when we are innately cowardly and fearful is courage.

Fear of Flaws

    When asked to name our fears an endless list can be recited. Women, men, spiders, children, ghosts, the dark, failure, rejection etc. I’d wager that the most understated fear, one that encompasses many, is the one that afflicts and paralyzes all individuals. Ultimately we fear to reveal ourselves, flaws and all. We walk around with these facades of “perfection”, (remember perfection is like beauty; it’s in the eye of the beholder) constantly concealing the perceived blemishes. In essence this fear to live life as ourselves prevents us from attaining any satisfaction. When we play our characters we keep people at a distance. You can’t experience true intimacy (get your mind out of the gutter) if you hide part of your being.

We fear to have flaws because in our world of pretentious airs, flaws are a luxury we cannot afford. If you are less than perfect you won’t get the job, you won’t have friends, and you’ll die alone. How did this communal sense of inadequacy begin? Everyone is flawed. It’s a symptom of our species. Why do we continue to pretend? When all it does is cause us pain because we never succeed. This crippling fear just causes pain and loneliness for no one will ever know the real us and love us still. I offer this thought when you dwell on the fear and loathing you have for a flaw: perfection is boring; humanity is beautiful.

Days Without You

Author: Mirelka
 
I miss you so much day and night
I can't realise why you're gone
I just think I treat you right
but now I'm again alone

The days without you are so long
these days - without your kiss and smile
and I don't know what I've done wrong
I've been thinking of this for a while

A few questions that I need to know -
why does my heart feel so bad ?
why you could ever hurt me so ?
why can't I get you out of my head ?....

Now I'm standing here alone
with this weight upon my heart
wondering why you're gone
remembering our feelings from the start

In my mind I have all my memories in a range -
each moment spent with you
is unforgettable
but I can't realise what made you change
for me this is just un-get-able

I know I won't pull trough without you by my side
so baby come to me - don't run and hide
The only thing I want is to be with you
please honey - make my wish come true

Don't you know that you make my days count?
And I'm always happy when you're around
it doesn't matter what we do
as long as I'm here with YOU.

I'm not going to claim this is the greatest poem I have ever read. It's far from it actually it reads almost lyrically. I however really appreciate her honesty with her emotions. She doesn't attempt to mitigate what she is feeling or disguise it with ornamental language. This is how she feels period. More than that honesty, I think the subject of the poem is something nearly anyone can relate to. At some point everyone feels the loss.

    Another aspect that I like is that this woman is an unknown for all intents and purposes. We feel a connection with the words. It’s not shrouded or impeded by a big personality.

What are the conceivable uses for a feather? Most immediately, you might say for a bird to fly with. Any history or movie buffs, might also assert there function as a writing utensil. Academic or science oriented minds, might say they can act as illustrations of the power of gravity. It would take a truly creative mind to see a feather and move passed fixed functionality and see a potential canvas.
 

An art phenomenon gaining steam is an example for the possible invention of man. To make beauty from a cast off piece of an animal is remarkable. We as humans are capable or immeasurable creativity; what is old, simple, boring or common place that you can make beautiful? That is my challenge to you. Get out of your head and see passed inherent function and see how it can be more.

Women as Humans

A sliver of light shines through translucent curtains and illuminates a bruised face with deep set eyes radiating despair. She always knew her life would be like this. It was her mother’s life, her aunt’s, her neighbor’s, and her grandmother’s as well. It’s been this way for as long as anyone can remember. Yet she can’t help but yearn for more. For a life unencumbered by dated oppressive traditions and an existence where she has a voice that can be heard and respected outside the safety of her own mind. She does not wish to be treated as a man. Her only wish is to be treated as a human and to have those unalienable rights she was endowed with (as she is human) extended to her.
This fictional woman is only fiction on paper. Her plight is understood by women across the world. All cultures are guilty of the oppression of women, from the United States to Uganda. Not one country is innocent. This sin varies in severity from denial of equal pay to genital mutilation. Many first world countries have progressed to less violent forms of discrimination and are on their way to embracing women as equal members of the human race. However, women in less developed areas are still subject to extreme brutality in the name of tradition. Cultural customs like stoning a woman for being accused of infidelity, imprisonment for their own sexual assault, and female genital mutilation (most frequently practiced on young girls aged 0-15) are hard realities many women face. Practices like these treat women in an animalistic fashion; they stem from the idea that women are sub-human and require brutish force to control.

We live in a world where tolerance is the norm and the expectation is to leave cultures to live as they choose. This is a commendable concept and one that should be adhered to. However, tolerance and acceptance should not be blind to barbaric traditions like these. The battered woman described does not always have to be so. Her wounds will heal and she may begin to speak as she only dared to dream. Just as we involve ourselves in violations of human rights, we must deal with violation of women’s rights. They are not mutually exclusive. To be a woman is to be a member of the human race and no human deserves savagery reserved for these women.

Art is Dead

Over the evolution of man, art has always been inextricable from well, life. The glide toward the 21^st century marked the end of the passionate love affair between art’s expression and truth. Art is dead. This statement used callously by people to describe the absence of creativity in art from the recent years has never rung so true. Slowly the sacred connection between man and creation became cheapened and commercialized. No doubt that some artists, musicians, play writes, directors, and actors are truly in it for the creation of something special; but now the majority no longer have stars and ideals in their eyes because they were replaced with dollar signs. I could show you several examples in all genres for arts tarnished shine, that span over half a century but I’ll just focus on this last decade

In this century art is less about expression and more about pure shock. To the side is a painting by Dale Frank. What is this? My three year old sister made a painting just like this. How is this art? Sure it’s colors on a page so it is by definition “art”. But how is it true? What is to learn from this? What is expressed? How are you supposed to get some sort of insight that real art gives without totally making it up. Don’t get me wrong there are some beautiful and interesting pieces in modern art; the bulk of it though just seems empty. How is a pile of glued soda cans going to leave a little mark on someone’s soul? Van Gough’s “Starry Night” has left an impact on the generations that followed its inception. That is art. But like Van Gough it has gone a little nuts.

Music is another form of art that has been around since the dawn of man. Before we had linguistics mastered we were very adept at creating audio art. Music has been in constant evolution all over the planet: different style for every time and place. It has the strange ability to connect people and touch them in ways that written language can’t convey. Those songs from our childhood that makes us cry, a symphony that conveys life, notes that bring us to our feet. These all still exists but music and musicians as a whole have sold their souls. Music has become not about affecting people in a powerful way but having the most zero’s behind that five that you possibly can.

Exhibit A: the Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana regime. It’s not about her music (which is excruciating) but how many things you can plaster her plastic face on. Exhibit B: Paris Hilton. She has a CD. Yep that tone deaf shrew was paid to wail like a dying animal. Oh and trust me she was paid well. Exhibit C: Justin Bieber. He breathes; that should be a capital offense. Every single one of his songs can be construed as an innuendo . . . Exhibit Q: Britney Spears. This washed up has been is still trying to make music. Not that she ever did. Her shrieky, needy, tunes somehow made her one of the biggest names in the biz. ATTENTION REAL TALENT PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, GO FOR A REACORD DEAL. My ears need a break.

Film, art’s most recent spawn, was once true to the creative creed but now the ones most widely appreciated are created on the foundation of making money. There are some great films out there. I am an avid movie go-er but the standard is precariously low. Some ideas that should never be uttered aloud are being produced. Like “Tip Toes,” a movie created with no comprehensible theme, plot, or poster. (See Cracked’s article “The Stupidest Movie Premise Ever”)There are some powerful films overshadowed by their steroid taking big brothers. IE: X-Men 3, Shark Boy and Lava Girl, Pinocchio (Live, Italian version) etc.

Our consumerist larger than life society can’t sustain art and its harsh truth. Sometimes though we see little glimmers of real art trying to break through the conformity holding it back. Maybe art is not dead; just gone. It can’t survive in the spotlight but is survived by the youth. Johnny playing in the basement, Rita dancing out her feelings, the raw emotion in their personal art, and the Podunk films; this is the art of our generation. Art lives on in our hearts as we all find ways to express it. I urge you all bored enough that you’re reading this to create, teach, and live in the way you only can with art. Make your mark with your truth.