Sunday, November 28, 2010

on dark jeans and decisions

in my usual fashion, here are a few thoughts--scattered so far, but that is an acceptable state for them, for now.

I've been reading Deep Economy by Bill McKibben and he makes the point that many of us spend more time with the anonymous rich than we do our next door neighbors. "they inflate the viewer's perceptions of what others have, and by extension what is worth acquiring--what one must have in order to avoid being 'out of it.'" 

with our eyes on a more popular, polished, and well-off crowd we align our standards for assets and attire with a transient and literally unrealistic breed. this elusive ideal is like an ivory tower growing ever-taller, its foundation girded and reenforced with a myriad of sources for what is new, and cutting edge. instead of taking our cues for what is acceptable attire from our friends and neighbors, we can check photo albums of distant acquaintances and movie stars alike thanks to facebook and flickr and TMZ, and tap into this compendium of cool without ever venturing beyond our own bedroom door. 

am I advocating that we all look and dress the same? of course not. as McKibben says, "we would not discard individuality for some drab collectivist future; instead, we would re-rembed individuals in some context where our impulses make more sense and do less damage."

so, perhaps my impulse for individuality would not mean I buy a new pair of jeans just because they are a cooler wash than what my buddies and I currently have (but maybe the exact same wash that the cool kids downtown wear) ... and because I have a 30% off discount code. perhaps it means I consider the tired hands of the twenty year old in Vietnam who stitched together those jeans for me because he had to make money instead of go to college. perhaps it means I do something that doesn't require me spending money to adorn myself, but rather takes only my time and attentiveness to others. 

I pride myself on being aware and tuned-in to what's going on, fashion or otherwise. what's that worth compared to tuning in to my community?

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

on asparagus and its life after death

dead & dying-off stalks from mature asparagus beds can be reused as mulch and, better yet, between rows and along raised beds. they'll break down eventually, but pile them high and for a growing season they'll keep the weeds down & the bulk of soil in place--and they distribute your weight across a broad area, so you can walk on them without compressing the soil beneath.

Monday, November 8, 2010

on human bodies

insecurities about our own physicalities may be rooted in the faulty belief that idiosyncrasies are undesirable. why so, when we're organic beings?

Saturday, November 6, 2010

on growing pains

it would appear that I am being weaned off of the friendships I have clung to for unhealthy reasons. the change is a splintering stretch, but surely for the best. in the meantime, there is pain.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

on sinking your teeth into the intangible

on this day I drove in some very good fall weather--50's and dim beneath a rainy sky which seemed at times to ponder the possibility of sun. there are few hills in Johnston County, which is where I make my money, and so encountering a rise in the road makes one pay extra attention to the landscape on the downward roll.  and indeed, before me spread stacks of tree-stands framing browning grasses and yellow soybean fields. I thought about the colors, and why they appeared so much more impressive on a day when there was no sunlight to illuminate and lift them. it was all like a fat moth perched stationary, instead of some lilting monarch. things were solid. what occurred to me was the sky was really making things right: it was silvery-gray in parts, with bits of white and yellow where the sun was almost parting the clouds, but a few sets of clouds had charcoal underbellies which, though they shifted above the land, seemed somehow to underscore each big hill and burgundy tree. mmmmmmmmmm.

on singlehood

there is no one. I do not have my eyes set on a known soul.

finally, peace.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

on skinny bodies and well-rounded ones, too

lines splay: they run opposite directions, from shoulder peaks. they drop to clavicles and chest bones, and rest on ribs, and pop out again from hip protrusions and repeat at the knees, the toes & ankles.

and lines spread: they open up over and over, they sway and swagger, down the friendly mounds & mantles of hidden biceps and overwhelming breasts, and swaths of rounded bellies. they wash over the deep dimensions of hefty hips before sloping rapidly down limbs which slim and straighten towards the sturdy heel.