Recent Blog Posts: Bakotopia

Look at that beautiful baby!

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 19:54:46 PST

I love that picture of our sweet little yellow dog (aka the Bean)! She just turned two on 11/28.

I Never Know What to Expect

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 15:32:49 PST

I never know quite what to expect. Perhaps this is what keeps me on my toes. Maybe it is what I love the most about Musing.

Today My Muse needed to go to the Dump and drop off a load of “stuff” left behind from some one long gone. He knew I enjoyed the ride out there so he invited me to accompany him. Off we drove, together in companionable silence with the occasional smattering of conversation.

I watched the glorious contrast of hillsides, from rows and rows of citrus directly next to vines, withered in the winter, to undomesticated brown California Central Valley grasses.

I looked into the distance and saw snow on the mountains surrounding us.

I felt at an extreme level of peace, the kind of peace frequently found inside the confines of a car rumbling down the freeway. There is something very connective to me about scanning the horizon in a moving car, even in terrain that others find uninteresting.

I remember as a teen driving through the grasslands of Kansas, finding incredible comfort in the rolling, grass covered plains. I remember in my early twenties driving from Washington, D.C. to Philadelphia, seeing the weeping willows dotting the grassy knolls along the highway and being moved to tears by their beauty. There were miles of weeping willows, miles of connection with my traveling companion when some would have chosen to see concrete.

I chose to see heaven.

My Muse caught sight of some pomegranates growing on some trees close to the row of Eucalyptus I so enjoyed on a recent night-time jaunt to the same destination. I wouldn’t know a pomegranate if I held one in my hand so naturally my interest was piqued as he pulled into the dirt road and began collecting sort of apple-esque fruit from the trees.

He sliced into one and handed it to me.

I wasn’t sure quite what to do with this offering, so I took it in my hand and picked out some small segments of the fruit inside. “How does it taste?” I called to him as he surveyed the grove for a greater harvest.

“Great!” he called.

I popped one into my mouth and the sweetness which leaked out was fine, indeed.

“Mmmmm.” I said, taking another one. And another one. And another one.

A fruitful fascination was beginning.

I held one tiny sliver in my hand. It looked almost like the garnet stone in the birthstone ring my grandmother gave me many years ago. I squeezed it to see how it held up to pressure. Red juice exploded from it, covering my shirt and my glasses with splatters of red juice.

I shrieked out, laughing. “I am a mess! It exploded on me!”

I don’t think my Muse believed me. I don’t know if he truly believed this was my first pomegranate ever, either – but it was that indeed.

I started to enjoy the splatters on my shirt. I squeezed another sliver, making a beautiful red-purple splatter across my chest. I did it again, in between eating.

I ate and splattered myself, sliver by sliver, until my Muse came back to my side. “I am making art!” I said, happy as a kindergarten child.

“You look like a car accident victim,” he said.

“I know,” I laughed, indicating my shirt.

“You haven’t even seen your face,” he stated, quietly.

I hadn’t even thought of that. “I don’t think I want to see my face!”

I kept laughing at myself. I remembered several Julia Roberts movies that had almost the identical scene of “poor, out of place Julia character” attempting to figure out which silverware to use at a posh restaurant setting.

I know all about silverware, it is eating a pomegranate that presents a challenge.

Six months ago this might have embarrassed me to admit.

Now, it just makes life that much more intriguing. Life is filled with new things to try, new explorations, new passion, new zest for life.

I took more slivers and added art to the old and well-worn t-shirt of My Muse. He smiled in response and didn’t tell me to stop. I squirted the back to match.

I felt more content than I had felt in a long time.

I might have looked like a car accident victim, I might have been within shouting distance of a land-fill but I rarely have I felt so vibrant and alive.

I just never know what to expect. Thank goodness.

Get down Santa & reindeer!

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 14:49:01 PST

I find myself watching and rewatching this little ditty WAY too much as we get closer to Christmas. And just so nobody feels offended or excluded, happy everything else too. I just can't find anything this fun with a Dreidel or Kwanzaa or Ramadan themes. But if you do, share it!

New poem!

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 13:30:02 PST

You're On My Mind

I wake up
where are you?
are you alright?
I can't find you

As I turn around
to see you here
you should be here
could you find the time

You're in my heart
which makes me glad
I find your love
tucked safely away

And when you're down
just take me out
to calm your spirit
and ease your mind

My love is yours
forever more
and always remember
you're on my mind.

I hope those who read this like it, you can leave a comment if you like. I
will post a new picture of one of my paintings, and when I get a
new picture of myself I will put one of those up. Again enjoy
the poetry that I post on here.

Blog in Black: (We) Still Miss Someone: Johnny Cash and meaning of Christmas

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 07:03:30 PST

I've listened to nearly every Christmas song Johnny Cash ever recorded. There's something decidedly dark and haunting about every one. Though he loved to laugh and to have a good time, Johnny Cash was not a jolly old soul. But he was an old soul with deep convictions, deep sorrow, and deep compassion. His songs he sang, and his consistent advocacy for the down-trodden reflect the real spirit and real meaning of Christmas. This Christmas, as every Christmas, we are visited by the ghost of Cash past. He reminds us of what Christmas is all about. Johnny Cash, this Christmas, we still miss someone, and that someone is you!

HELP!

Sat, 09 Dec 2006 08:55:27 PST

I glanced at the my tool bar to the far left was button labeled HELP. If I clicked on it, would it really help? Can anyone really help me now? I decided it was worth a shot.

I clicked on it. I brought down a window that was labeled help topics. I scrolled down the list.... hmmm... no nothing about life trauma, tribulations, depression, anxiety.

What about my trusty old paper clip, he always seems willing to help. I brought him out from hiding. I had previously put him away after he bugged the hell out of me when he wouldn’t stop asking me if I needed help writing a letter. He seems happy to be out of hiding. He doesn’t seem to hold any grudges against me, good old trusty paper clip.

"Mr. Paper clip," I typed, "financial troubles." He came back with "Trouble finding files?"

NO! I retype, "help with money"

He responded, "Help with recording billing information for a task?"

"Hmm," I thought, "getting closer, one more time. How can I make more money?"

He responded, "Change the width of a contact card?"

Let’s face it, my paper clip though eager to help, is a moron. I right clicked on him and hid him. Although, I must say, having someone sit around awaiting your command is kind of exhilarating, I brought him back out, paper clip, what should I have for lunch?...

sent to me by email by my sister, The Raven

Alien Autopsy was it real or a hoax?

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 22:54:01 PST

North: Away from Me

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 14:34:50 PST

The truck perched on the ledge of the bluff, like a lighthouse looking out over the sea. I looked down and saw rows of citrus trees with train tracks slicing through them. We were close to the edge of the valley and dusty hills rose around us in the distance, barely visibly yet present on the blustery night of an almost full moon.

The Muse suggested we go for a brisk walk.

In the cold? Naturally. Where else was there but in the cold?

I was ready as I leaped from the truck still wearing my heels and a skirt, out of practice in bringing a change of clothes whenever I go musing.

We hadn’t had a destination in mind, but somehow the Muse knew I enjoyed the drive out to the county dump. It is a beautiful, peaceful excursion, and the dirt road we found was a treasure.

My long hair was whipped into a frenzy by the wind as we walked into the frigid night air. I purposefully left my jacket in the truck because I wanted to feel everything that was to be felt, I didn’t want to be shielded and guarded from nature, I wanted to become nature.

The Eucalyptus trees flanked the dirt road majestically, reminding me of their distant cousins at my Dana Point home and the ones lining the road to my dorm at University of the Pacific.

Eucalyptus trees said “adolescence” to me. I grabbed a leaf filled branch and buried my face in its scent. Heaven. I ran my hands through the leaves and inhaled my hands.

I ran back to My Muse who had been musing alone in his own way.

"Do you smell the Eucalyptus on my hands," I asked. He did.

Is it normal to be out on a dirt road in the Kern County countryside at 1:30 in the morning on a Thursday night? Not for me – but what is normal when one is Musing?

I carried contentment not only in my Eucalyptus scented hands, I carried it deep within my soul. I reveled in its gifts. I was ardent in its expression.

I will carry it with me, this exact moment, for a lifetime.

We drove back into the heart of Bakersfield and a hushed stillness filled the truck, quite a contrast to the ear-filling wind of the bluff. My Muse pulled behind my car and it was time to go our separate ways yet again.

Tears filled my eyes as I prepared to separate myself from him. It always seems to take me a long time to say good-bye, to take that final step away when our time together is limited by both a daunting schedule and most of the time more than 100 miles geographically.

I blinked my tears away, not sure if he saw them or if I imagined his eyes were filled with water, too. I didn’t look back as I got into my car, my heart subtly aching as I turned the ignition.

We drove close together for several blocks before our final wave as he turned North, away from me.

photo finish

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 13:20:01 PST

Well I am close to compleating the projects for my first jewelry class and I am pleased with the outcome. I have five pieces to be graded. A cuff,3 rings, and a pendent. I will have to post photos of the work. I will have them done just in the nick of time. I am the worlds biggest procrastinator. Every one in class is so different when we would have a critique everyones work would be on the table and you could see how beautiful and unique everyone's work was. I look forward to my next semester of jewelry. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!!!

Rachel/Zoso : )

well...there it is.

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 13:11:08 PST

After some careful though and consideration, I've decided to stop being an asshat and go back to school next semester.

As far as majors go, I'm leaning towards journalism/english.

I'm going to try really hard to not quit this time. I think my problem is that I have a really short attention span. Like, REALLY short. That's why I tend to stick to poetry instead of venturing into short stories/novels 'cause it seems like alot of pressure to stick to one subject for so long.

I'm even getting bored with this blog. Ay dios mio, I'm never going to make it!

Any suggestions on how to get through school and not be a...quitter?

Sign Language

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 12:44:40 PST

City leaders continue to bicker over which logo best represents Bakersfield – a squiggle, or a leaf. The proposed new sign, shown here, would use the same stone monument, can just change the logo. So, essentially, the city's welcome sign will still send a subliminal message that Bakersfield is a hole in the wall.

Personally, I’d rather have the Fun, Sun, Stay, Play sign back.

For more from Baketown, click here.

Each Time

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 11:29:28 PST

Each time we say goodbye

At the end of some time together

I feel tears begin to rise to the surface

Because I know

Our time together is that much closer

To ending

You're Not the Kind of Ho that Santa had in Mind!: Helping teens make the right decisions concerning sex.

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 07:41:21 PST

The song, You're Not the Kind of Ho (That Santa had in MInd) is based on my own personal experience. In the first verse, I draw from my father as a role model, reflecting on a situation I experienced as a youth, as I witnessed my father's refusal to allow a hooker to come in between himself, his family, and his efforts to gather food to feed his family. In the second verse, I draw from my experience years ago, when I worked as a Program Coordinator of a runawy shelter in Modesto, California, and from the traps that teens who entered the shelter, found themselves caught in, including the trap of teen-age prostitution.

The question of how society should educate teens surrounding their sexuality has been a controversial one. Some, who believe that sex should be reserved for marriage, advocate for a message of abstinence, and shun programs that introduce teens to methods of birth control. Others, who accept sexual promiscuity, or, at least, sexual experimentation as a reality that is concomitant to the adolescent years, believe that we must protect teens against STDs and unplanned pregnancies, by offering them a comprehensive approach, including an overview of birth control measures.

I am interested in understanding your views as it concerns the role that public education should have in teaching children about sex. Is it the job of our public schools? Is it the job of parents? Should secular humanists set the agenda for sex education in schools? Should conservative Christians set the agenda? Is there room for compromise? Your comments put the roll in blog n roll, so let's get rollin'!

Has your Ho Ho Ho! turned to a ho ho hum? 'Tis the Season for Seasonal Affective Disorder?

Thu, 07 Dec 2006 22:16:31 PST

It's called Seasonal Affective Disorder or SAD. Poets identified it long before mental health professionals like myself analyzed the heck out of it. It may make for romantic muse, but once it gets you in its throes, it can be quite painful and disruptive. This mood disorder seems to be associated with a decrease in the time period in which one is exposed to sunlight, and so onset is generally in the late fall and early winter. Symptoms include lethargy, sadness, hopelessness, insomnia, loss of appetite, loss of interest in sex and other activities that were once experienced as pleasurable, and social withdrawal. In severe cases, a person can become suicidal, especially when it emerges along with a pre-existing mental health condition.

The worst thing you can do when you feel the symptoms of SAD coming on are to stick your head in the sand (or in the snow if you live where it's cold), and ignore it, hoping it will go away. Sometimes something as simple improvement in diet and excercise habits can cause symptoms to go away. Some have experienced positive results with special types of indoor lighting. When the problem feels more overwhelming and it begins to result in an impaired level of social and occupational functioning, then it's time to seek out professional help. The combination of antidepressant medication and psychotherapy has proven quite effective in such cases.

Sometimes it also helps to pray. Prayer can be a powerful means of allowing spiritual light to penetrate the soul and psyche. And then, there is sublimation. This involves the transformation of negative energy into positive energy through engagement in creative activities like music and painting.

I sincerely hope that if you are suffering from SAD, you will pay attention to the problem and actively seek solutions that are best suited for you. Don't let SAD stop you from savoring the season!

And we're back...

Thu, 07 Dec 2006 18:29:16 PST

So we've been scarred. We're the folly of the generation before us and they are such of the generation before them. We need to change this. The family structure is dying. Many religious people contribute it to the "downfall" of Christianity in our country. Freedom of Christianity it should be called (thats for a later rant). You know what? Yes it is. But not Christianity as the reason for, but Christianity as a model for a strong moral foundation. People today are questioning the idea of "morals" too much. They are relative in a lot of situations, but there are key concepts that are just not meant to change. Not everything is for the questioning. I'm talking about people who take it to the point of : "Quit being bad!" and then the asshole "philosophy major" (philosophy is awesome, I'm merely pointing to the douchebags who use it because they dont want to do anything but smoke pot all day) would say "What is bad? That child is just expressing himself through tantrum". And I agree, there are so many different variations and backdrops in front of which we can dress our rationale so that it fits our purpose. The thing is, we need to quit talking out of our asses and begin to ask better questions like "where do we want our society to be" "what are our main goals" and so forth. If we asked these questions, and then engaged in ACTIVE diologue, then we'd be closer to changing things. But for now people will rely on the arguments of "Mexicans are taking our jobs" against "White people are just insensitive!" I'm not going to go through all the possible misinterpretations of this that there could be in order to try and save face toward every person ever, take it as you will.

So yeah, I'm back.