Moral Outrage a lesson in Compassion from the Venus Flytrap AKA Oooops misplaced my anger again sorry folks

Wow what a week! I'm feelin a little blown out by the Retrograde of Mercury and a little undazzled by the spectacle of madness that dares me to peek at the American wounds of entertainment and the nature of misplacing anger. Life's rich pageant took a dark turn last week as a bizarrely well choreographed tragedy occurred in Aurora my former early teen stomping grounds. It seems that another isolated young man choose to arm himself and open fire at a movie theatre that was playing the midnight showing of the final Batman. 12 were killed many injured. Like Columbine I know someone that was related to a victim, it does not qualify me of anything but I did burst to tears when I read the reactions of angered friends of friends that wanted to call to arms more citizens- when will more men with guns help? In Britain 13 deaths for the year by guns because they are not carried by anyone cops, robbers and their is no worry to go to a show or campus. Video games are designed with no thought to collateral damage I refuse to believe that pretending to play shoot em up for countless hours does not desensitize the concept of shoot to kill.  It feels close again the bafflement, I can't imagine the sorrow of the families but as I felt with Columbine this is very much a larger conversation and a much deeper wound that needs to be healed. I don't really want to focus on victims or their families in the media the pain is usually channeled to creating champions for cause to cure..... a heavy price for finding your voice, or even the sad guy that caused this pain. The day of, I was walking around in a daze reminded of how alien the life and times of American is to me: a young man in lime green raver fetish jeans and a fish net shirt long dyed messy hair and a leather Bat mask with pointy ears and his friend-girl walking slightly distant stared me down crossing towards the Subway - waiting/ begging for me to be shocked.  Suicide Girls in hand made Undies were beckoning the Santa Fe art crowd t come in and buy some arts crafts clothes, there were cupcakes and booze and everyone was attractive I guess that's ok as long as it was to buy stuff not sex, a black bus filled with party boys yelled out the window for the girls to join them..... Why was this not moral outrage/ women exploited to sell goods but not services was clearly off the menu? My friends invited me to a family picnic in Wyoming not convenient for a reunion but more of a,  will you come to the mountain for us gesture. It did cost me 100 for a new muffler, should I bill them or my friend for the lousy guidance as backed out of the mountain. Eh money Flows, I did get to experience the majesty of Hummingbirds what the ancients did before you tube, and sticking my feet in a creek and remembering my dear Friend Zak killed by a drunk driver 8 years ago, we sat at a kitchen table in the cabin in the woods as he brought me out of a long night of feeling awkward(miss you hoodlum savant Denver nights lost a glow with you gone) The 19 year old kid that was sleeping at my moms house for the wayward was caught trying to steal from a roommate, only to minutes later break into my car and leave the wallet but take my phone - the wallet had cash the phone was priceless. In the days that followed of my friends on FB being outraged or angry that their sacred place of refuge from the mad mad world was terrorized (at the Batman premier during a gun scene- really? 160 million in a weekend? really? Don't get me wrong I Love Batman in fact I drove a batmobile but look at the story here, Batman was created out of senseless violence and the loss of his parents. Dexter is a serial killer crafted from drug dealer parents and a detective Dad who serves as trainer to be undetected assuming him to be a monster and what does he kill? other monsters? I am reminded of a Chris Rock I am curious how a student affords 20,000 in guns and ammo and fancy explosives? I could barely afford the movie ticket as a student. How did he even get into the theatre those are one way doors right? I am never really discounting of a Manchurian candidate/ zoolander villain fiasco. Maybe it was all the late nights the exhaustive work in understanding the brain, even Greenspan let all the wheels come off of this country fiscally believing that the market will correct itself because he was a fan of Ayn Rand in college and refused to examine reality as is but let his beliefs cloud his facts. My first instinct when my phone was taken was disbelief, wanting to question my self in the hopes that I'm just over reacting, but then it was clear that it was an intentional act, even if it wasn't personal. Then it was anger. How dare they, I will seek Justice and locked my phone and sent a note that the police would be involved, but then my friend that makes good money reminded me if I want my phone back, you should offer a reward, HONEY! I had failed to see my own advice I had looked to justice for resolution, and this settles nothing. I have spent the day trying to understand being 19 unwanted and working crappy jobs and living like it will never end. Men lead lives of quiet desperation and it remains so as long as their is a girlfriend trailing along and providing comfort, but men gone untreated go on to indulge in violence - I wonder what the mother was like, how hard she worked was their breast feeding involved, what is the connection of beauty that dispels misery and so I think of the Venus flytrap a strange carnivorous flower that look cool enough to get up close but eliminates the fly. Do men need more time in the garden to soothe the soul to fill the heart the gentle laughter and love to soften the blow of endless obstacles. maybe a little more beach boys and a corona at the end of a long day. May Prisons be Rose Gardens may Colleges have Playgrounds may we have mandatory fresh air breaks. And may we ask the assholes in our lives the weaker or meaner or sadder people with bad hair and blotchy skin or perfect spray tans the freaks to the freaks and the quiet ones "hey i get it, sometimes it sucks but this too shall pass."

Fresh Ink, The art of Snowflake and the fragility of a handshake deal - Is this the time of your life?

AT some point you wonder when is the time of your life and consider the possibility that is now and that it might just keep getting better if only you stop worrying about it. Occasionally I slip into lucid daydreams where everything I want is instantly available to me, and I am reminded of how much it feels great to be loved by the most important opinion I need approval of and that would be my own. I have been snowballing my blessings recently with an infusion of wealth of options and some cash to back it up which makes me dream where is it I want to go when I can choose where I want to be. Not everyone feels their snowflakeness like me everyday and the usual ups and downs that go with that but as I get into this rhythm of gratitude I know that I love my life and who I am and only occasionally are reminded of the pangs of my smartypantsness when hit with the meeting of like minds that keep up a good jogging pace of ideas and emotional content, only to be slapped with a friendly handshake and a quick exit stage left. I often forget my own fragile nature as I see the incredible alternative of game changing slip into the shadows of the night only to see it is status quot and things are still logical for others. Perhaps we should Blair the Amelie soundtrack on the streets, and POst billboards of incredible feats of awesome romance and creative explosions in a world that just wants to be played in.I honor the suffering of billions but I will not suffer for the sake of suffering on the terms of the oppressors but I will spend each moment in a state of Rebellion as a spark of light and act Love.

Relative Absurdity, the blessing and a call to duty: leftcoasting

Has Paul Goodman changed my life?

Maybe maybe it is all a windfall as I'm being bathed in blessings that keep hammering out as frustrations, It is a question of money and starting over.... where to begin the begining of reprise. Am I refueled in my wake of Denver double down trauma and neglect and as the west comes knocking at my door with the glimmer of my previous work and the promise of peace and mutual respect and understanding, I was once honor bound to serve my east coast army of intellect, yet it is my body that welcomes the Sun and the ocean and the bursting color bands of joy and idealism the frantic push of dreams held by millions of the city of Angels and I find my self glamorized as well to discover myself as a woman again.

Still with a greater plan and a sense of urgency for the end of calendar the magnetic pulse of the crystal by which I was created, tonight I unfolded to a documentary on Paul Goodman a less known elder statesman writer philosopher that fueled the 60s and I was intrigued at how familiar it all sounded, an anarchist writer pacifist bi-sexual that was an intellectual by trade and was ensnarled by the question of where do we start and go from here? My cultural rehab is a rehashing of this open prayer to societal wounds and I beg to hear a reason, a conversation and I am pledging that I will not neglect you arts and spirit and culture, that I am ever your puppet to escape into 3d being and the will of my flesh is a figment of mastery as I heal sexually emotionally and mentally through the act of documentation and the experience of risk. I open the head and heart to a parade of musings for I have been away challenged and ashamed. Tonight I whisper the lullaby of loved for as I belong to nothing I am always at home in my heart.

Acquiescence to summer

It is the wild fire in my heart that designates Summer, like the puffy winds that blow a gentle afternoon rain or a deep languid hefty heat my pulse quickens on the easy stride of summer nights in Denver, the constant bop of good will folding itself into delicious engaging where every one is blatantly living a good and enjoyable life despite the lack of trappings that come with the dirty rich call of disrupt and the fame and power and wealth that precipitate it. Tonight I make headway as I return to river of stuff labeled a cherry creek, I awoke my inner lady, wanting to be resumed as connected to her heartbeat as urban babbler bewitcher Buddha, OH thank you night for being cool, for nooks to chatter in and den to leisure about I will savor each moment while I count the days till I return to more hectic driven times but in This moment I AM HERE TO GREET YOU, not as a broken record or a beacon but as a charm, loving this my mantra it is the time of our lives. NO Apology necessary.