November 26, 2001

snow

don't you love the completely mesmerizing / hypnotizing effect of moving snow when you're travelling through a storm on the interstate? this sucks when you're driving, but it can be pretty cool when you're not.

which brings up a slightly related memory. one time my dad and i took a trip to nevada with a pilot who flies small airplanes. i took turns sitting next to him in the cockpit. the trip to our destination was beautiful. no clouds... just the sun rising over the mountains and reflecting off the great salt lake. the view from the cockpit of an airplane is immensely better than the crappy view you get through the plastic porthole windows in commercial jets. it's also lots of fun to watch all the navigation, listen in on the radio communication, and all that stuff. anyway, getting to the point: on the way back, we found ourselves in the middle of a snowstorm - at night. the trip was bumpy for the entire 90 minute flight. but what was strange was the view out of the window. there are no streetlights in the sky, so it's completely dark aside from any light produced by the aircraft. which means those blinking strobes on the wings. so we could feel forward motion and the endless turbulence, but outside the window? nothing. except every time a light would blink, you could see the snowstorm illuminated for a very brief moment. so brief that you couldn't actually see the snow moving. it was like a still photograph snapshot of snow, lit up every few seconds. hard to describe, but very strange. (i haven't experienced this in commercial jets, either because i haven't flown through a snowstorm or because they spend most of their time flying above such storms...)

26 Nov 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

October 12, 2001

how to simply be

there have been moments during the last few days in which i have felt completely calm. not in a sense of numbness, but rather a sense of being untroubled and placid. above the everyday. seeing the world not from a small scale (through filters of despair, apathy, hope) but from the large perspective of a neutral observer.
we all get wrapped up in our worlds. i find that it helps sometimes to take a quick break from frantic reaction and take a moment to remember (or find) "how to simply 'be'." you might do this through prayer, meditation, observation of nature, music, or however else you prefer. the method matters little.

12 Oct 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

what to do with bin laden

trying to come up with the best way to bring osama bin laden to justice? here's an idea i received in an e-mail today:

"As for what to do with Osama bin Laden: Killing him will only create a martyr. Holding him prisoner will inspire his comrades to take hostages to demand his release. Therefore, I suggest we do neither. Let the Special Forces, Seals or whatever covertly capture him, fly him to an undisclosed hospital and have surgeons quickly perform a complete sex change operation. Then we return her to Afghanistan to live as a woman under the Taliban."

12 Oct 10:30 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

September 24, 2001

nevermore

"nevermore."

it wasn't a midnight dreary or a bleak december, but on friday night i walked outside to find a very large raven (the 'bird of ill omen') sitting on the edge of the roof. seemed rather strange (i don't know about you, but i don't usually see ravens hanging around the place). as i was looking up at it, it took flight and came right towards me, swooping within ten or twelve inches of my head. it did this several times, which seemed pretty abnormal (and slightly unnerving) for a wild bird. when it roosted again, i walked nearer to it, getting within several feet of it. the bird was amazingly calm. i even ran inside for the camera, came back, and snapped a photo of it. it only flew away when i lunged toward it, hands in the air.

after thinking about it (and corroborating with neighbors), i decided it must be a domesticated/pet raven that somehow found its way to the neighborhood. i suspect if i had held up my arm, the bird would have landed on it. quite likely someone grew tired of such a high maintenance pet and decided to drop it off somewhere.
today i was told that one of the neighbors (whose place the raven had chosen as home, and whose son had named the bird 'poe') caught it. i think our hypothesis was confirmed when it didn't seem very upset when captured - in fact, it was quite gentle with humans. i hope they will find some kind of home for it.

anyway, not to bore you with silly details from my weekend, but the whole story begs two questions:
- why would someone want a pet raven? are there many pet ravens out there?
- why did the 'bird of ill omen' have to fly around my house right before i'm about to leave on a vacation (on an airplane)? i'm not a superstitious person, but jeesh.

24 Sep 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

September 14, 2001

true realism

from a mailing list:

true realism, on the other hand, doesn't mean blaming americans for bringing these horrifying and truly evil acts on themselves. it does mean trying to imagine foreign perspectives from which government conduct might appear so intolerable that some people might be driven to take atrocious revenge.

the great director jean renoir was once asked why there were no villains in his films. he answered simply, 'everyone has his reasons.' your most bitter enemy may have his reasons for hating your guts. you may not think they are good or sufficient reasons, but you'd better take them into account. if he has any brains, he may find a way to hurt you.

listening to military leaders & politicians (or should that be 'hard-liners'??), i am reminded of this bit of reasoning: "we will continue bombing until there is peace."

14 Sep 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

September 11, 2001

2001

oh my god... ("i'm not here. this isn't happening.")

when i was a kid, i thought we would have everything figured out by 2001. (you know, we'd be up on the moon digging up monoliths or something...) oh, sure, there would still be some madness, but the 20th century would have been the apex of it. by the 21st century we would have 'advanced' somehow, and death & destruction would finally be on the downhill part of the curve.

so much for that naïve that idea.

it feels like many things are about to change, my friends, and not for the better.

11 Sep 20:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

July 20, 2001

random bits of tid

some observations from the past 3 and one-half months:

sometimes we expect change. sometimes it's completely unexpected. the latter is always more difficult, but usually more impactful and lasting.

sometimes the people who expect the most from life just end up missing the best parts beause they're so frustrated about not getting what they want.

we'd probably be a lot better off if people took a walk under the stars as often as they prayed in churches.

more and more people seem to view computer technology as an end unto itself rather than a powerful tool and extension to the human brain.

there's nothing like spending four hours at a good italian restaurant and eating way too much.

some people who major in communications do not know how to construct a readable sentence.

mac os x is cool.

old computer games i played when i was five are often more fun than the new ones.

i like to say i feel old. and like everyone else, i do wish i would stop aging physically... but what a pointless thing to complain about. you can always keep yourself otherwise young, though. my theory is that you're old at the moment when you stop seeing the world as something to be discovered and explored. the moment when you tell your mind to stop and move from dynamic to static. the "i know enough now; i'm not looking for more" attitude. you stop noticing the little amazing and beautiful things. that's when you've given up.

i have a nagging suspicion that i will someday become one of those old men with a 12 guage shotgun in hand yelling 'get off my property! you lousy punks!'

my dreaming brain, like everyone else's, has some trouble being rational. but it comes up with some pretty clever solutions anyway. for example, i had this dream in which i looked into the sky and saw a trail of black smoke leading to an airplane with a burning engine. my grandma happened to be standing next to me, so i turned to her and said 'looks like that plane is having real trouble - hurry and get some binoculars so i can see what happens.' she looked at me and said matter-of-factly "oh, well, i already saw a report on it while i was watching cnn. it breaks up and crashes. they know what happens to it because they're a few timezones ahead of us." hmm.

there's nothing quite like watching the violent downpour of a summer thunderstorm.

very few people are what you imagine they are, and practically none are what they try to present to the world.

sometimes there's nothing more bothersome than revisiting the past. sometimes there's nothing better.

fear can be a frightening thing (i don't know if franklin r. was right, but he was definitely on to something).

more later.

20 Jul 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

March 31, 2001

make the most of the present

lately, it seems i've witnessed more death than usual. loved ones, friends, pets, acquaintances. though we often try to avoid thinking about death, sometimes we have no choice. especially when someone close to us says goodbye.

there are so many emotions that stem from the death of a loved one... every emotion surfaces in its time, really. and many thoughts - memories of the past, concerns of the present, questionings of the future.

then you find yourself moving on... the living must continue the business of living. you learn, cope, adjust.

unfortunately, i think you also tend to forget the way death tends to put things into perspective. reminding you of your own mortality; of the value of each moment of life. reminding you to treasure those you love; to value simple things.

i'm not advocating a continual focus on death... i'm just saying that when it happens to someone close to you, it's worth dwelling on just a bit, if for no other reason than because it tells you: hey, buddy, you'll be gone someday. those you love will be gone someday. make the most of the present.

31 Mar 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

October 3, 2000

braindead lifedead

for the past four or five months i've experienced a general lack of creative activity in my brain. it's incredibly frustrating.

i write notes to myself in a little book. a little over a year ago, i must have known what was coming when i wrote a reminder for the future (paraphrasing):
'perception, observance: make a conscious attempt to push aside biological/environmental attitudes/perceptions/opinions that are engrained on the mind. on many levels, from simple to complex. ask yourself questions that you might not normally consider. look at the world in unconventional ways.'

there was a time when this was easy, unconscious, seemed perfectly natural. but over the past few months, i've found myself becoming increasingly closed, conventional, uncreative, and frustrated.

perhaps i've grown, and become accustomed to what seemed so interesting at the time. or maybe the opposite - stopped changing, hit a plateau.

i tend to reach the conclusion that it's time for a change in direction or surroundings. unfortunately, i'm not quite ready for a major change. so for the moment, i must rely on small changes for the sake of sanity. hopefully, i'll get out of this rut. otherwise, i feel i'll be slipping into a life lacking creativity, resolve, fulfillment, wonder, and interest.

03 Oct 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

May 8, 2000

hurtling helplessly

it's that time of year around here when the trees are finally covered with green leaves. the air is perfect, the mountains are green, and everything smells new and alive. the time is fleeting, because soon the sun and heat will turn everything dry and brown.

the environment outside seems to make me even more acutely aware of the whole cycle of life. in the last few months, it seems that i have been surrounded with beginnings and endings. i stand by myself, watching brilliant starts, dismal finishes, and everything in between. which is where i find myself - somewhere in the middle. hurtling helplessly from some random beginning to some inevitable end at some unknown time. the only thing to hold onto are brief moments of existence.

it seems that it's possible to be nothing and mean nothing yet still find something wondrous in it all.

08 May 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

April 10, 2000

a bright star, dimmed and dying

sometimes it's easy to put yourself in another's shoes. but all too often you suddenly realize that the shoes don't fit - or you're really not in them.

i like to think that i can imagine what it would be like to be placed in her situation - but i can't. i like to believe that i could somehow handle being placed in such a situation - but i know i couldn't.

visits only strengthen my realization and perception of how strong and amazing she is. to be faced with a certain future, to know the ultimate result, is something i cannot begin to fathom. the slow loss of strength, mass, movability. the lack of control. being as paralyzed and helpless as a newborn - but with perfect mental capacity. a trapped mind - full of thoughts, emotions, memories. a living hell.

it's so painful to realize what is happening, and what will happen, to someone so special. one of the very few people with which i associate only good memories. a beautiful soul, full of kindness, patience, practicality, caring, and love. it's not that i choose to focus solely on the good qualities - it's just that i've never seen any others.

she's a bright star in what can sometimes be a dark, murky sky of people i know. if i were placed in a similar situation, i could never handle it with the slightest bit of grace or control. i would simply shatter and fall to pieces. i discover yet another reason to admire her.

as i stare down a dead-end street, i reflect on the fragility of life, those who i've had the pleasure of interacting with, and the experiences i've been part of.

and i sit back slowly and replay the memories of beautiful days gone by.

10 Apr 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

March 21, 2000

little blue planet

as the air rushes around outside, knocking things over and disturbing anything not well-rooted to the ground, i can't help but think about how tranquil our little planet is. and the extreme to which we take that for granted. our environment is generally so secure and predictable, and we so fragile... it's a bit disturbing if you think about it too much.

we depend on a completely stable environment. otherwise we can't even function. there's a wind outside (strong from my experience, but to a more objective observer it's probably incredibly mild) and i'm just sitting here hoping that the electricity will stay on while i type this. (and later, when it gets colder and i need some heat.) we can no longer cope without a steady, continuous stream of electricity - the blood of an arrogantly technological world.

it would probably do us all well to remind ourselves how much our existence relies upon our relatively stable home. i would personally like to give a big thanks to the little blue planet (of which we are simply an extension) for making it all possible.

21 Mar 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

February 24, 2000

old orange diskettes

the respite has passed... winter is back.

since it was one of those days to be holed up inside, i decided - among other things - to clean out and organize my workspace. sounds fairly pointless and uneventful, but it turned out to be strangely worthwhile...

in the bottom of a drawer i found some unlabeled orange diskettes. (3.5" disks seem to be a rare commodity these days because my main computer doesn't even have a floppy drive...) i fired up the pc, admired the lovely microsoft windows clouds (cough), and eventually got around to finding out what was on the disks.

to my delight, it was a collection of files for this web site, from about two years ago. some fairly old stuff, right up to the "blue and black" design. so right now you're asking yourself why this was so exciting. well, i already had most of those old files, but what i didn't have - until i found these disks - was a collection of old journal entries, some i posted on the site and some i didn't.

i don't know how many of you write down your thoughts and experiences on any sort of regular or irregular basis (those of you who do probably know how peculiar it is to read the old stuff). the one redeeming value of the practice is that it gives you an unalterable record of yourself. this is usually interesting - and usually weird.

one certain thing about all of us is that we change. another thing about all of us is that we get caught up in our own current reality, our own present state of mind. and we usually fit memories of the past into that state of mind, at least to the best of our ability. even if we remember being distinctly different in the past, there's still a sense that "i've always had the same basic outlook, the same way of thinking, the same attitudes." i think we tend to forget how much time and experience change us. old writings give us a peek into our old mindset, and it can be a fascinating glimpse.

if you had asked me yesterday what i was like two years ago, i would have replied that i was basically the same as i am today. in my mind, i've changed very little. in fact, it often troubles me that i haven't changed more in recent times. but the writings on those orange diskettes made me realize just how much my mindset has changed. if you asked me the same thing today, i would tell you that i had actually changed a lot. the last two years seem quite uneventful, but the more i think about it, they haven't been. in any case, my current state of mind is quite different from what it was just a few years ago.

reading through the old entries was a very strange experience - embarrassing, funny, distressing, entertaining, and overall very enlightening. i definitely need to offer my apologies to any of you who have been around here long enough to remember those days. if you had to suffer through those stupid entries, i'm very sorry (in a couple of years, the same thing goes for those who are reading these words right now).

anyway, i don't mean to ramble, but it was just such a completely strange yet compelling experience. i wonder what i'm going to think of my current writings in a few years time, and i wonder if the pace of change will remain the same or whether it will speed up or slow down.

i realize i'm completely self-absorbed, and you really don't want to hear about this. but if you have any thoughts you wrote down some time ago, find them. sit down, read them, and think about it all.

before i go, i might mention that, in the very bottom of a drawer, i found an archaic 5.25" diskette from a very long time ago... something for the antiques roadshow! too bad we got rid of the old family pc, because now i don't have a disk drive for it. i'm going to find someone who has one (e-mail me if you do!), because it would probably be really interesting to see what's on that one.

more long-winded mumbling next time...

24 Feb 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

October 20, 1999

fast food restaurant

we sat in the bright, cold, ugly, noisy fast food restaurant, nearing the end of what i thought was going to end up being a rather useless and frustrating few hours.

but somehow, somewhere, an interesting conversation broke through. i think it happened when we were discussing hereditary traits with her, and we started talking about her father. i learned things i had never known.

her father had been in world war one, a sharpshooter, in the trenches. fighting in the battle of the somme. at some point he was seriously injured. (years later an acquaintance said "you're still alive?! we left you for dead!")   he met his wife after the war and enjoyed a number of good years. there were two children. she was the second. when she was a small child, her father's health began to falter. she remembers the necessity of quiet in the household. but she also remembers his unfailing kindness and patience. her mother could have sent him to one of the hospitals, but she chose to have him stay in the house.

she remembers the doctors amputating toes because of gangrene, plus many other operations and procedures. she remembers the frequent trips to the hospital, which seemed like fun outings to her as a child. going out on the weekend, visiting men who were very kind and gave her candy.

when she was ten, he was gone. she remembers the strength of her mother, taking care of two children alone during very difficult years.

other interesting stories followed. sharing of insights and experiences.

all in the fast food restaurant.

20 Oct 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

October 19, 1999

loss of childhood imagination

i went to the park with my three-year-old niece today. the playground was virtually empty (kinda sad on such a perfect day), so there were plenty of free swings. (this was good, because it's more fun to swing than sit on a bench.)

anyway (yes, there's a point), as i was swinging, something struck me. at some point in the past i lost my childhood "imagination" forever. don't get me wrong - i still have a very well-developed sense of imagination. but it's different... kids can take something boring and simple, and turn it into the opposite. i remember turning playgrounds into ships, fortresses, spacecraft, and nearly anything else. the swings were airplanes or spaceships (with guns, communication devices, escape mechanisms, and everything else). and it was so fun. practically real. full and complete entertainment.

so, the first question is, when does a person lose that? i certainly don't remember any transformation, and neither does anyone else. it was so gradual and subtle that i didn't notice. which makes sense. i suppose our childhood imagination decreases as our perception and understanding of the "real world" increases.

but the second question isn't so easy to answer. and that is, does a person have to lose that childhood imagination completely? perhaps it grows useless and maybe even detrimental to adult health. maybe it's too unstructured. maybe it's impossible to hold onto it and still worry about the problems that face us all in life. but somehow i don't think that's right... we're obsessed with entertainment - everything from television and movies to amusement parks and gambling. and all other manner of escapism. we still want to escape, but once we "grow up" we seem unable to find that escape within ourselves. we need elaborate special effects or expensive thrills. yet, these things also lack imagination. (i find myself more entertained by "thinking" films than i do by hollywood glitz.) being spoon-fed ideas further stifles both our childhood and adult imaginations. so, ... well

you know what? i have absolutely no idea where i'm going with this.

but at least i gave you something to think about. let me know if you have any brilliant insights... :)

19 Oct 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site

October 11, 1999

look at the sky

"should we talk about the weather? (hi...hi, hi)"

the air outside is not the air of october. it doesn't even feel like autumn. in other words, it's warm enough to comfortably drive a car with the windows down, which pleases me. i have an odd fascination with that - driving everywhere with the windows down. even in the middle of july when i should be using my car's air conditioner, i prefer to endure the heat simply so i can drive around with the windows down. i also drive around with my windows down in november, arriving at my destination with numbed hands and a red nose. i'm not exactly sure what the explanation of this behavior is. i suppose i just don't like being confined in the controlled artifical environment of a car. i love the feeling of moving more freely through the sea of atmosphere. maybe dogs have it right after all.

so anyway, i've been driving around (with the windows down) enjoying perfect temperatures for the last two weeks, trying to convince myself that winter isn't moving in. as i was doing this today, i looked around me and noticed that not a single person on the road had their windows down. hello, people! this is perfect window weather. the outside air can be the 'climate control' for your car. but everyone was speeding happily along with their windows up.

when i got home, i sat outside for a moment and looked up at the sky. lately, it's been perfect. in the day, there's a complete absence of clouds, so you can lay on the ground, look up, and have your entire field of vision filled with nothing but a light shade of blue. the field gradually gains depth, and you see the sky as it really is - a sea that starts from you and goes into space, not some mystical blue screen that exists high above you. at night, wispy clouds move in, carefully taking position in beautiful formations. the sky tonight was extremely beautiful. it was an hour or so before sunset, and the sky was painted. literally. it looked like a vibrant watercolor on an immense canvas. not one of those postcard pictures where a bright red-orange sun is halfway below the horizon. it was much more delicate. just a hint of sunset, with pink and orange clouds neatly overlapping clear blue sky. i'm not going to try to describe it in words, because we all know you can't do that. but just believe me when i say it was stunning in a simplistic way. i haven't noticed a scene this beautiful for a while. anyway, i began to wonder if any of those other people who had been on the road with me were noticing this most incredible sky.

everyone speeding around in their air conditioned cars, rushing to their destinations, cell phones in one hand and soda in the other. and that's what we want? a planned existence? so full of social circles and structured children's sports and gathering things. broken occasionally by some form of escapist entertainment. so full of television shows and tabloid magazines and subdivided communities. so full of social pressures and impressions and empty chatter. so full of judgement and comparison and competition. we don't even know who we are anymore. we speed along, hurrying through our dictated little lives. small lives. hurrying home to be spoon-fed by the television. trying desparately not to think or wonder or dream for more.

i know because this is starting to happen to me. and i don't want it to.

this isn't coming out in the way i intended. it's just that as i marveled at something as simple as the sky and then glanced back down at what i was existing in, i had a simple brief thought or feeling. and now i can't describe it.

i guess it's just that as i grow older i'm desperate to prevent myself from getting caught up in the meaningless, useless, endless dreariness of what we all-too-often call "life." perhaps i should write little reminders and paste them on the wall:

hey, garrett - listen up! stop chatting uselessly to your friend. sit down with him/her in person and talk about something meaningful. turn off the sitcom and read a book about an idea. or maybe even - gasp - spend some time one day thinking about where you exist in the universe and how you perceive your experience. stop spending so many hours driving around on giant rivers of concrete to view mass-produced eye candy. instead, relish the fact that you breathe and talk and think.

and remember to look at the sky.

11 Oct 12:00 | Link | Category: From the Old Site