Beard

Shaved my beard.

Partly because it was butt fugly, partly because it was a bad representation of what I felt like, and partly because I just picked up a scissors and started cutting without really thinking about it. It was fun, cutting off the huge clumps that stuck together. I have to find someone to give it to. Someone who can't grow a good beard of there own. And has a good enough sense of humor to laugh, not cry.

I think perhaps you, who hear my words but don't see my face, know me better inside than those who picture my mug when thinking of me. What I feel like inside is not well expressed outside. The best way to express most of what I look like from my point of view is through abstract paintings. Angry half-dry brush strokes of red with neatly lined up dot/nipples of blue, super imposed over lurking, childish line drawings of genitalia.

Hell, I should make that painting, if just to be able to give people an answer to the question, "how are you?" If only I had room for a painting studio. I need an apartment. Or even better, a house and some land. I want to start making my garden paradise now, before I actually have to rely on it for food. Fruit trees take time to start bearing.

It took long enough

Here's irony: I can either write a long explanatory post about how I am doing, action and inaction, and rest, or I can just go to bed on time and actually DO that which I would otherwise talk about. After all these years, I finally figure it out. Score one for Isaac!

A quote from a wise man:

"there are two types of people in the world: those that act, and those that criticize."


good night :)

sleep is importaint, for now.

I was getting very rested, at the Tom Brown Jr. courses, and now, back in Fairfield, I'm getting off of a rest-friendly schedule.
fuck.

what to do, what to do.

Quicky

Obviously I haven't posted in a while. (slap on wrist). No matter. Much of that is because I've been writing in my paper, private, journal. Which is easyer, especialy when the computer isn't even on yet. Anyways, some phrases I came up with, through dream or otherwise, that I like.

"The depths of heaven."
sounds like some kind of half erotic, half spiritual book or book made into a movie.

"Die the Doing" By Richard St. Barbie Baker. Does not exist, as far as I know, but I saw it in my dream, and the title phrase struck me. Also, I love the author, who has written other books, and is an inspiring person.

that's all folks.

XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

It's the last two lines that really get me, aside from the whole fleeting impermanence of summer beauty, which is both ironic in a place like miami, which actually is warm and summer-like all year round, and apt, in that I am leaving this place in a day, and will be officially off vacation and back on the hard but enjoyable work of learning.

Those last two lines hold the key to longevity far beyond the span of a normal human life. Think of those ancient writers like Plato, Homer, and the unknown writers of the Ramayana and the Edda's (the stories about the Norse Gods) for all the different cultures. The people (and perhaps gods) in those stories live on, long after their body has ceased to be. Your words, like Willy's up there, can live on and gain notoriety far beyond anything you had when living. Van Gough's paintings sold for a pittance, if they sold at all, while he was alive.

But it has to be great, whatever it is you do, if you want to live on. Otherwise it's lost into the mass of others long before you die.

There's something called Achilles Dilemma, after the hero of the Iliad. The story goes (to the best of my memory) that when Achilles was young man, one of the gods came to him and presented him with two options: either he could live a quiet, long, happy life, with a wonderful family, and be forgotten with the death of his grandchildren, or he could have a short, extremely traumatic, life, and be remembered by people forever.

And which would you choose? Maharishi, a dear teacher of mine through is books and tapes, was asked once, "how would you like to be remembered?" to which he replied something like, "why would I want to be remembered at all?"

IO