9th annual It's a Very Shenry Christmas cd swaparama

so, i spoke to our fearless leader about what has become our tradition
of swapping music within our circle every year for the last nine
running. a busy busy man, our Shenry, he did tell me that since he has
been out of touch with his internet family for so long and that he
felt his blog was in such a state of neglect that he hadn't planned on
hosting it this year. so i will. i'm just a steward, mind you. i'm
just going to hold down the fort until Shenry gets back in the saddle.
it's his shindig after all. i just can't stand the idea of letting
something that has been so much fun and meant so much to me over the
last (almost) decade ride off into a sunset.

so, here we go.

returning swappers, you know the score. if you're in, send me an
email with your address so i can compose a list to send to the rest of
the swappers. if you're new and don't know my email, leave yours in
the comments and i'll get back to you asap.

time being of the essence, i'm going to make a command decision and
skip the portion of our program where i ask for input on theme ideas
and choose one for us. this year, the theme is "A Message." consider
your song selections as something you'd like to say to someone in
particular, a group of people in general, or the world at large. or
just put whatever the hell you want to on it. the rules are simple.
put your selection together on disc, put a track listing and reasons
you chose each song on your blog (or send it as a note with the cd if
you're not of the blogger sort) and ship it out to your fellow
swappers in time for Christmas. i'll get you all the addresses of the
swappers involved in this year's piracy as soon as i have them.

spread the word, amigos. let's do Shenry proud.

ghost

con side r

so, i'm still an artist.

i can say that despite the evidence to the contrary. i have projects.
i have commissions i need to be cranking out. the problem is, at least
lately, is that all of my projects have been non commercial, non
saleable little nothings i just want to play with. mostly, i'll admit,
i've been ignoring the paintings because i've been singularly focused
on getting two novels ready to go.

so, i've been really considering leaving the teaching profession and
taking a job in a cube. the up side of it is the pay, the ability to
get a raise and bonuses and benefits and do the things in my life that
i day dream about now, but can't even remotely afford.

the downside, i imagine, will be the lack of time to create, which is
pretty much what i do all day every day now. i've been doing this so
long now, that my needs to create, to draw and paint and sculpt are
just simply met by going to work and tinkering. it's part of my job
description after all. and i love that. i really do.

i've been barely making ends meet for too many years now, seen too
many of my dreams die, that i can't justify not reaching for a brass
ring when i see it. i see glimpses of future, and the realization that
i need to seriously start thinking about it has settled over me. my
question is, will the need to create drive me to do so in my down time
when i'm not at work, soccer games, baseball practices, whathaveyou,
or will it be something that i put on the back burner that will
eventually die from neglect?

because that would be a crying shame.

ghost

assignment

next week is thanksgiving break here. that's right, a whole week to
decompress and enjoy some time with my kids, maybe with my family, and
if i'm lucky maybe i'll even get invited to someone's turkey dinner.
we'll see.

but, i'm already thinking of the project i'm going to assign to my art
1 kids when we get back. i thought of this the other day, and i'm kind
of excited about it. i'm going to do one also because i've never
tried it, and that's the kinda stuff that gets my motor going.

the assignment will be to do a self portrait without using their
physical characteristics to represent themselves.

yes, it sounds difficult and will require some upper level thinking a
lot of them will resist. i'm having trouble coming up with ideas
myself, and i rarely lack those. so my question to you all is, if i
had assigned this to you, what sort of imagery would you use to
represent yourself in a self portrait where you can't draw you?

if you're a creative type and doodle something up, email it to me.

c'mon. i'll show you mine if you show me yours.

ghost

life and living

there have been a series of suicides both in the town where i teach
and our football rivals down the road the last couple of years. these
struck me, not because someone killed themselves. i understand how
things can become too heavy a load to carry. trust me, i do. these
struck me because they were all highschoolers. they haven't had time
to accumulate a load so heavy that they think their best option is
death. they shouldn't have accumulated that sorta load anyway. and i
wish that they could have seen that life is a trip, one we just can't
tell where it's gonna lead.

the most recent was a topic of discussion in the teacher's lounge over
lunch the other day because the boy who died was the cousin of a
couple of our students. the idea that there's gotta be something that
flips the switch, a chemical imbalance, or something, that sends
someone over that cliff came up. we've all been down. i know i have. i've
been down where i thought the best way up and out of the pain was
death. but that's all it ever was, just a thought. i never took
action. i never set a plan to off myself into motion.

i remember reading an essay of Camus's in The Myth of Sisyphus in
which he stated that people decide to commit suicide once a trigger
happens in their world. someone makes an offhand remark, the bus is
late, something small and seemingly insignificant happens, and
suddenly the person believes at that point that life is not worth the
trouble. i found that very profound. it's not despair or desperation
that does it, but sheer apathy.

i remember finding a connection between that and stories i read of the
holocaust. the people the survivors knew wouldn't make it were the
ones who had given up on trying to groom themselves in some way, of
not caring about how dirty they were. they had given up on the little
things.

maybe it's the little things that matter most. maybe hope is not some
grand gesture from the universe we all seem to want when we're clawing
our way from the bottom of a pit. maybe instead it's a good cup of
coffee, reading a well written book, someone saying, "thank you," when
you hold the door open for them, my children taking my hand when we
cross a street. that's what has helped me overcome despair, helped me
keep on, has let me fall asleep at night with the soot of the day
fresh on my skin to remind me of the little victories that have made
survival a life.

and what is good, phaedrus,
and what is not good...
need we ask anyone to tell us these things?
(from zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance)

indeed.

if i could give you a gift today, i'd have you let the good bolster
you, and have the bad make you stronger for having endured it.

ghost

perhaps...

i think i have always attributed all too human characteristics to my
God. perhaps that's why i judge myself so harshly. i demand a lot from
people. i guess i've always thought God must also, and i am all too
painfully aware of my short comings as a human being.

this weekend, i had a lot of fun with my kids, and there were several
times where i just caught myself looking at them, watching whatever it
was they were doing. Tank's reaction when he catches me staring is a
shrug and "what?" Pixie always gives me the biggest sweetest smile.
Dimples gives me an exaggerated wink. she is going to be a little
heart breaker. it is in these moments i wish i could impress on them
just how much i love them, so that they could carry that assurance
with them like a shield into everything they will experience in their
lives.

but i cannot.

they have no concept of infinity. their small beautiful minds are
incapable of comprehending what love is like on that scale. instead, i
tell them repeatedly, probably to the point of annoyance.

"do you know i love you?" i say.

"yes, daddy. i didn't forget." they'll answer.

or

"yes, you told us already."

and i smile and they go on about their little business. and i watch
them play and learn and grow.

and yesterday i thought, maybe, perhaps, just possibly, God loves us,
loves me, the same way. sure, my kids can push my buttons, and yes, i
see in them some characteristics and personality traits developing
that i don't particularly care for, but i love them so d*mn much it's
hard to breathe sometimes when they're not with me. i know that is
part of them growing and learning and living. i know i did not always
behave the way my father would have wished. and i begin to wonder if
this big infinite God i've always imagined, always feared, feels the
same way about me. i wonder if despite my tendency to push God's
buttons, if he looks at me from time to time while i'm playing,
growing, learning, and smiles the way i do when i look at my kids.

dealing with infinity, i can't comprehend His love, His wisdom. all i
can do is trust it, and that's called faith, ladies and gents. i have
been trying to forgive myself, hoping that He could forgive me. i
wonder if all my worry has been futile. i know i cannot understand
God's love or his plans for me.

but i'd like just once to catch him staring at me and smiling.

ghost

down shift

maybe i wasn't meant for anything big. and maybe i shouldn't want to be anything big. perhaps i'd be best served if i were something more simple, something like a lamp. i think my kids would be much better served by my being a lamp to light their way, than a devestating fire. and i gotta tell you, if you didn't already know, those kids of mine are everything to me. whatever choices i make, they are always made with those three and how it will effect them in mind. 

and if that's the case, i pray someday i'll find peace in my life. i can still smile, after all, and no, it's not a maniacle grin. i can still laugh, and it's not some evil cackle. 

i dream of going to my grave loved. i mean comepletely and undeniably loved. i want to be genuinely missed by the people in my life. i want to be the kind of father that my kids are proud to have called their dad. 

i suppose the dream, basically, is that i want to die, and have people, some people anyway, to believe their lives were better for my having been part of them.

it's raining gently here, and there is a slight shiver that good things are still to come. i hope i'm right. not all things are right in my world, but i find from time to time a few previously rough edges have smoothed out.

peace trickles in.

 

ghost 

4th gear

when i was a kid i was the loner. 

not much has changed. i've had many people tell me they were drawn to me because of that loner persona, that the mystery of me was something they just had to solve. let me just say, it's not at all the romantic character people seem drawn to. it's lonely. it's hard.

i'm ok being alone, though.

until the storms of my life roll in anyway. then, i'm in turmoil, not because of the storm itself, but because there's no one to reign me in, no one to check my reactions with, no one to curb my impulses to strike back. there's no one to tell me i'm doing the right thing, or that i'm messing it all up. no one to call me on my stubborness, to tell me i'm being unreasonable. i've got my brother and father of course, but they have their own lives and different perspectives on mine so something gets lost in translation.

there's no one in my life to encourage me. there's no one i can look at and get a nod of affirmation. those of you with a partner, don't take that for granted, because that's invaluable. 

i am often stubborn, and quick to assume someone is trying to screw me over, or take something from me. i'd like to say i'm better than that, that i can rise above it, but the truth is, i don't trust many people anymore. i don't trust my own instincts sometimes. it's hard to show someone my belly when all i expect is to get kicked again.  

what i'm trying to say is, i have come to realize i am still a loner, and i'm ok alone. but i was a better man with a woman backing me.  

 

ghost

 

3rd gear

ever feel like you were maybe destined for something remarkable? i'm a grinder by nature, taking each day as it comes and navigating through their mine fields without much thought about tomorrow or those tomorrows that follow it. still, i have this feeling that i'm supposed to be more, to be something bigger.

i can't imagine what. i want to be a bonafide writer. i haven't found the door i need to unlock to make that happen yet, but i keep working, keep creating, keep searching. i am not opposed to kicking in a door either.

i've often said, i write for me, i tell the story i want to hear and if it never amounts to anything, then i'll still be satisfied with the work i've put into it. i'll admit, that's only a partial truth. i can tell you, i still tell the story i want to hear, but i want to tell it to everyone.  i want the book deal. i want the whole thing.

the question is, is that the bigger thing i feel i'm destined for?

dreaming can be a dangerous thing. i wonder if part of what holds me back, from finding that door, is that i pull the reigns on my dreams lest my delusions of grandeur overtake me.  

 

ghost

 

2nd gear

sometimes i feel like i am horribly alone. i know i am not. there are people around me. my kids. my father. my brother. i have a friend or two. and even if they don't fully understand, so what? who fully understands anyone else? who really is in perfect sync with another person? there is a wall every person erects and lets few cross, and my walls are taller and harder than even i'd like. they're as much a prison as they are a defensive measure.

that's really all there is to it.

 

ghost

1st gear

sometimes i feel like so much has been stripped from me, taken from me without my consent, that i cannot afford to compromise anymore. change comes and i stand my ground even when sometimes it would be best if i retreated to higher ground. there are times, of course, where standing firm is exactly what is needed, but it is my default action. 

i realize most of my time, the time in my head, not necessarily the time i am occupying in this world, is spent searching for a sort of peace. i don't know what it looks like, so i'm not sure i know what i'm looking for. if i ever knew it, it's been so long that i have forgotten its features. 

 

 

ghost

mildly mannering

yes, that love thy neighbor thing has been on my to-do list, but
everything has just been so crazy. you know?

i am maybe too aware of the tiniest little things i say and do. i keep
my mouth shut instead of saying something out of petty annoyance, or
selfish spite. i am too aware of the things i do even when i am
completely alone.

i do not trust my own motivations. i do not always immediately
understand my initial feelings. so i say nothing, lest i cause
unwarranted damage.

this, of course, is only with people i care about. with strangers and
enemies i take more of a shoot first, ask questions later approach.

while i like to consider this self restraint a courtesy to my loved
ones, it has more than often been an invitation for some of those
loved ones to take advantage of me. and i'm the fool because i let
them. by not trusting my initial instincts, feelings, insight, i have
allowed them to take advantage of me. no one to blame but myself.

being me, i have always judged myself much more harshly than i do
others and probably much more than they do me. i beat myself up over
the smallest things. i always have. i am not the tallest, most fit
guy. my attitude toward certain things can be classified as strictly
negative. i am not the best housekeeper by far. i kill myself over
these sort of things. i have been invalidated by certain people and
abandoned for these sort of things.

it is a secret fear of mine, that i will be judged by my God for these
sort of things when this life is all over. i really hope i'm wrong. i
hope that when i'm judged, He takes into account instead every scrap
of paper i picked up and tossed in the garbage, the quarters i gave my
kids to give to the homeless and those fake santas that hang around
outside walmart during the holidays ringing those forsaken bells. i
hope He thinks of the tiny little things i did when i didn't think of
myself first. i hope i have those credits in the bank balance of my
soul.

come to think of it, i'd like to judge myself by those standards. i'd
like someone to judge me by those standards.

i imagine a lot of people would say, "but those are nothing."

my answer would be, "but those are everything."

ghost