It's been a week of hobbies.
There seems to be a thread that weaves all of these disparate things together.
The thread is me. Naturally.
Lately I've been
- reading biology textbooks
- teaching myself electroencephalography
- messing around with my perfumer's organ
- detoxing, generally
- fiddling around with photoshop and illustrator
- listening to quantum physics lectures
- oh and sports psychology too
- cheering on the blues (5-0W against the Sharts, woot!) and the bruins
- casually investing in biotech
Lots of things I've either never done before, or haven't even tried doing in a long long time. Definitely not socializing on the greater internet. Just meandering through my own mind, feeling the magnetic pull of various interests teasing my mental fabric in one way or another. I'm being sized.
I haven't much been writing (processing) the past few days, just experiencing. Feeding my machine as much knowledge as it can handle — which surprisingly has been a LOT — v voracious these days — having this moderate expectation that by the time it is my turn to write something, all this newfound knowledge and experience I've been percolating through my mental filters is going to wash all over the page
educating you, educating me
I'm too early in some of my studies to grasp it
but my notebooks are starting to get fat.
I'm only telling YOU, write.as, because you're another one of my sketchbooks — notebooks — where I can outline a general idea, a general pathway, and get some semblance or coherence
hmm
So yesterday I lit a birthday candle for my boy. Sang Happy Birthday and spoke Kaddish. It was nice. A little thing I did with him quietly. The dead are with us — they come kiss you in a quiet room then disappear before you're even consciously aware what happened. All you “see” is the swirling vapor from which they traveled here. Unless of course you can both hold enough coherence to see eye to eye. Sometimes that happens.
Was thinking, now that I have a sewing machine again, I will sew him a little bowtie, and her a little dress out of the same fabric, and lay it on an altar as gifts. The thought warmed me. So now that means I have to find some good fabric and a dress pattern in size 4.
The idea originally sprang from a month or so after my daughter's death, where I picked up the board book I Can Fly. I had this overwhelming want to sew her replica dresses from the book. Something felt quiet and sweet about that. Now, 4 years later, I might be in a position to do just that.
And the scrumptious Mary Blair art. Do I ever love the art and flair of Ms Mary Blair.
She's the artist responsible for much of the iconic geometric Disney patterns and characters of the 1950s space age. It's a Small World and Sleeping Beauty being some of her most recognized contributions.
Childlike. Innocent. Perfect, really.
I've been thinking about higher dimension entities lately.
5 or 6D. Maybe that's why I've been interested in listening to physics lectures these days. Just to make imaginatively rational sense of the subsurface emotions I'm feeling. I don't think I'm entirely able to speak about these things with my family — not that they wouldn't totally get it — but a lot of the time, hmm, I'm not ready to put forward unfinished thoughts. #unfinishedthought.
Anyway. Higher
this message was cut short because my keyboard ran out of battery. I don't feel like writing more, and I don't think I feel like discarding this either, so its just
Another day in, Paradise
— .:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:. published not proofread. #NeverLookBackspace! Words, Ideas, Magic copyrighted by Zem in Paradise. this is confidential communication. Protected by US and International law.