Reading, Writing, Right or Wrong..

I don't know why I post at such a late hour.
I guess it's when my brain starts slowing down.
And when I feel most that my day is lost.
Instinctively I try to capture it's last remaining, dying, breaths.

I've been reading a book called Evil Genius lately. I've quite enjoyed it. Though it's a bit strange carrying around a book of such a title with a seductively innocent yet creepy cover, I can actually relate to quite a lot of the book. It's set in Australia, so there are a number of things that are familiar with my recent history. Also, the trials of the young boy being small and cute, and getting away with far more than he should. I could definitely identify with that. I'm not saying that I am or ever have been a genius, but I've been unchallenged, and teased, and ignored in my early years enough to relate to this little fella in here.
I like the moral challenge this book raises. I find myself questioning the definitions raised in this book on frequent occasions. What is Evil, what context does bad become really bad, or even good become bad. All these things we live with and justify. War. Deceit. Greed or Selfishness. All of these things, terms and labels for when society would deem them inappropriate.
Is there any pure good? any untainted truth?
I also watched a movie recently, called "The Man from Earth." It was about a man who lived from the paleolithic period. In the discussion about his fictional life, many good questions were raised about the nature of man. What it would mean to live forever.
Following the movie, I read a little about Buddism. Discovered that it's another religion that doesn't make sense to me. Some Buddha spirits help a prince to become some kind of master Buddha. The teachings socially make a bit of sense, as do many of these religions. Most of them are socially responsible, as they have to be to maintain some kind of foundation for sustenance as well as growth.
-len

Here I am again.
Acting out and hurting.
I don't like to feel this way.

But I feel this way when I imagine how things could be.
How things should be in my memories of my life.
I should take family drives.
master wilderness.
content.

I feel as if I'm standing in that dry hilly land.
And on the rocks above, I look down on myself.
And I am content watching the stream of life roll by.
And the breeze push the trees in harmony.

The dirt and the grit don't feel dirty... they feel fresh.
They combine to renew my soul.
Years upon the years of waiting for my flesh to make them whole.
The cold stream contrasts so with the warm night air.
And it makes no apologies.

It is what it is, and I am what I am.
A beast of the earth and unmovable.
Fallen dead on my bed of crusty brown earth.
And covered with soot from head to toe.

The earth and I are companions.
We make no apologies.
I know her even in her mystery.
She still abides and..
outstretches her branches to console me.

I am a beast. An animal.
I have no voice to cry out.
my tears retained only..
by these great monstrosities.
These towering beasts that consume me.
confuse my purpose and lull me to uncomfortable silence.

I am a man.
But I am hardly a man.
Clothed in inappropriate fear.
I run inside instead of out.
And ext-anguish my passion..
in this silent stone tomb.

I consume my inadequacies.
and in doing so, I am consumed by my inadequacies.

I see you hiding away in such secret.
Your priorities so askew.
That you would trade your mother,
for your favoured cousin.
That knows your name,
but gives you no bread.

I wish you deserved my joy and my pain.
I wish you could love me to renew your name.

I am may be your stranger,
but never your fool.

If only you would explain to them,
as I had to do.
What makes Mummies and Daddies,
a Daddy or Mum.
Why can't Mummies and Daddies forever be one.
Then you might see,
This futility.
Of hating and wanting and pushing away.
Day after day after day after day.

And you're all by your self now.
With your truest of friends.
As they all become families.
and you're lonely again.

You think that your cousins and your nephews of fate,
will stand up beside you when you show them your hate?
Deny them of mercy and passion and love.
And see how completely they fall..

I'm finished.
And tho that is off of my chest.
I still carry burdens inside of my breast.
Unpassions fulfilled,
My life is the cost,
I long for the battle,
that feels all but lost.

I'm ending not all,
But just this last phrase.
I'll still love you more,
to the end of my days.

Happiness is contentment

It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, and it is not possible to find it elsewhere.
 -Repplier, Agnes

It's easy to think, and even obsess about something or someone that could fill a need for contentment. These things however, never resolve or absolve the need for that elusive need. 

To just be happy with oneself seems a relatively modest goal. Unfortunately it can feel virtually unattainable for those who set their expectations well beyond their capabilities.

I for one have a weakness when it comes to creating, well, most anything. I tend to obsess about what the project is lacking. I spend so much time assessing the options the that project is rarely completed on time or at all. When I look back on the time I spent, and the outcome, I lament. Further reducing my satisfaction and my confidence.

I am a gifted creature. I have many capabilities I haven't even had the opportunity to explore. Unfortunately - I may never be able to demonstrate this adequately without finding first a contentment within myself that I can cultivate. It's as if I need a reminder that I can be, do, accomplish anything if I let go of my obsession with perfection.

 

Toooo late to be blogging

It's too late to be blogging, but I felt like writing and listening to music on the iPad that I got working last night that and I've not had A chance to really have a go typing on this thing.. (Which is amazing to type on btw).

Rach caught me singing (mime) to Lionel Ritchie. Yea, I know. I just admitted to listening to Lionel Ritchie. I have a strange music collection. People are genuinely surprised to find what I listen to and what I know.

I've recently decided to stop living my life on the fringe and afraid. I watched a play tonight that really inspired me. I know I say that a lot, but I'm ready to use all my passion to embrace the things I love.

There's so much beauty and love - and beauty in love.. Waiting to be discovered. We're so close to it, that we are oblivious to it. And it will never be discovered if I stand in one place my whole life waiting for it to find me again. I must go to meet it where I live. I must find that place in myself where am content, and where I can finally grow into a man who radiates the passion that is buried deep within me.

I like this iPad.
And I'm going to bed.
-Len

Staircase or (The Case of the up and down Stairs)

OK, so I lied. My next post was not some hard hitting editorial piece. Nor will the next or the what follows probably be. It'll more likely be some whimsical satire or corny play on words. Because that's what I enjoy doing far more than getting down to the nitty gritty. I'm good at it, when I have to be. But today, and probably every other day I volunteer my personal time to post this drivel - it will most likely be just that. So now..

Have you ever wanted to be a detective? To sleuth around and solve mysteries in a yellow fedora and trench coat?
Me neither. Though I wouldn't mind the fedora and trench coat.

But I do have a compulsion to see how things work. Take them apart. Dismantle them. Put them back together. Or more common than that - just observe. Presume. Assume. Reverse engineer.

I don't have a point. I really just wanted some excuse to post that title. Wordplay makes me smile.

The end.

Keep it superficial, stupid..

Here's the deal..

If anyone reading this is among the old school folks who knew me before I started this blog - Back when I opened the domain www.gkumba.com - then I'd be pretty impressed. That means that you kept visiting when I stopped updating, when I let the domain go to spammers, when I started half a million useless blogs. And through all that, you found this one (because the other useless blogs are still there). Then you read it. And that's where I probably lost you.

So I suppose I'm back from my 4+ year hiatus - and I'm ready to let some of this shit go that I've been dragging around for far too long. It's probably not wise to confess my banal inadequacies to the soul-less void of the internet. So I won't.

What I will do, is give my heart some freedom to muck about with my words so it's not all so bloody sterile. Then someday, when I let people back in, the ones that care about me enough to read the muck of my heart, they'll know the waiting wasn't in vain.

Here's to new benignings.
-len

Who's reading?

I was just looking at my own blog today - filling out an about page and wondering.. Does anyone read my blog anymore, or am I just writing for myself? Not that it matters in the slightest whether I have an audience of one or a quiet herd. However, if you're just waiting for an invitation to comment and tell me how wrong I am - here it is.

I want to make a goal for the next year to just keep writing. To write truthfully and earnestly from my conscience.

You'll want to check out my next piece. I'm going to be digging into the subtle but starkly contrasting values of Australian coastal culture vs. the American midwest. I'll probably make a few parallels between perceptions of western KS and western Sydney. And most importantly, I'll be having a bit of a go at both, pointing out weak points in desperate need of moderation or growth.

But that's not now. Now I get some sleep in a nice warm bed, thanks.
-len

Only time..

I get transported..

Surrounded by memories and vague recollection.
I get lost wandering in time out of order.
And I am neither here nor there.

A place where love is irrationally persistent.
Words fit together like puzzle pieces.
And missing pieces become part of the puzzle.

Weightlessness is freed by the mind.

The images show nothing but the stillness of time.
And time progresses only as flowing sounds..
Taunting me.

listless. without listing. unlisted.

While time may not heal all things. All things are held in time.
..and time is an endless deception of loss and renewal.
Frozen or flowing in our perception as the ages are only moments.

and all is..
finished

Generations

I come from a long line of miserable marriages.

My grandfather on my Dad's side divorced well before I was born. I remember as a young child in his shop, my Grandpa Ellis offering me chewing tobacco, or alcohol, or whatever he was tucking into at the moment just for a chuckle. He'd remarried a woman that we all just called Jenny.

I don't know the circumstances of their divorce. I don't know if he was any happier with Jenny. I do know that one of my Aunts has a different mother than my Dad. I don't know that this was before or after the divorce, but I wouldn't be too surprised to find that some infidelity was involved.

We always called Dad's mom Grandma Howard. I barely know her full name because that title was so engrained. She remarried a few times and was widowed every time as far as I know. The only one I really knew in my lifetime was Clay. He was a good man. I respected him very much. He spoke funny, and was difficult to look at sometimes because he was missing his lower jaw. I don't know the circumstances for that, but he was a wonderful man with a fantastic sense of humor. As you would expect, I took him for granted until he was gone. My grandma Howard was pretty great too. Despite having a pretty hard life, she loved us all very much.

My Grandma on my Mother's side wasn't my favorite. My Grandpa Jackson was a simple man, but he was good. He loved nature and growing things. He was always quite proud of his farm, even though it was a bit of a mess. I don't blame him too much for it being a mess - probably because I can relate to him a bit that way. I would much rather walk the earth admiring it's beauty than to stick myself between four walls and wither. At the same time feeling bound by honour and duty and a desperate need to be loved and appreciated that ties us to our circumstances.

Grandpa and Grandma Jackson were hoarders, and they lived their lives in absolute filth. Grandma Jackson was bitter and lazy, and I really wasn't sad to see her pass. I know that's a horrible thing, but she felt a bit to me like a weed. A human weed that found it's only purpose in life to steal any crumbs of joy from those around her. She died from a stroke in her sleep.

If one person missed her, it was Grandpa Jackson. My parents often called him Paul. Particularly after Grandma Jackson died. His mind went fast after that. He had Alzheimers disease. Nobody really knew what to do with him after that. He ended up going in a home and spent the rest of his life trying to break out until he basically became a vegetable. He died in a home.

Grandma Howard died in a home too. I wasn't there. I wish I could have been for her. I loved Grandma Howard very much. Out of all my grandparents, she was the one that was always a part of my life. She outlived everyone else. And she loved us all so much. I think I must've learned alot about life from her. I wish that Rachael would have met her that first month she came to visit me. I think they would've gotten along well. I think we would understand each other better, had we known each other's grandparents.

It's time to get out from these four walls for a bit, and look for the sun.
Love you all.
-len

Stand up comedian..

I wonder how hard it would be to put together some material, and stand on stage to make peeps laugh.

I just watched a stand up the other day. A guy who I didn't even realize had a sense of humor.. and I was floored. Clever and funny (and a little bit vulgar). It seems a good way to air some dirty laundry without too much accountability. And with a relatively captive audience, it could be a bit of a hoot. 

I reckon the key is putting together some material. Some key points to refer to, in case you get stuck. Would be good for my conversation skills too. Have a bit of a script for breaking the ice in tense situations.

I'm quite sure that I can be funny. I have pretty good timing for that kind of stuff. I would just have to be prepared. And keep it short & sweet. I couldn't just start rambling on stage and bore folks out of their seats. 

Well, just add it to my slate of todos..

• Design portfolio
• Novel (or written story of some kind)
• Gymnastics / Dance / Circus training
• Chinese (language) 
• Music - either write or band
• Europe / NZ
• Snow skiing
• Comedy

Among others that I can't think of at the moment..

Well, at least I've solved the Rubic's cube and seen a 3d movie.

-len

Changes

I've been here for about 5 years now, in Australia. In that time there's been a lot of changes.

• A new country
• New social group
• Two girls
• A cat

And unlike in KS, everyone is in flux. Leaving for overseas holidays visits homecomings and then off again.

It's been a good 5 years, and I'm only just now starting to settle in. 

But it's still a struggle.

-len

The best places to write..

I've discovered that the best places to write, are places that don't have a computer or writing implements of any kind. For example, most of my epiphanies seem to come in the shower, on the toilet, or half asleep in bed. Sometimes I even have a killer thought that I just have to get down while I'm out for a walk or jog. Needless to say, it's usually the one time I forget my phone or simply leave it behind so I'm not distracted.

That said - could it be that all these tools that I surround myself with to spontaneously record these moments of conception and artistic expression, simply stifle the very thoughts they are meant to immortalise. I reckon that the answer is a resounding YES!

Much like Schrödinger's Cat is the illusive maelstrom of ideas and absolute Genius flowing about in my head. When I do remember something just long enough to eek out that little taste of something, it's usually stripped of context, and ultimately regressed to a state of absolutely ordinary.

I have been having some pretty cool dreams lately. Y'know - the kind where you can slide or float places. Where, even though it takes a bit of concentration, it seems so simple to do that you wonder why everyone in your dream isn't doing it. Dreams where I feel a comfort and assurance, paired with an authority and understanding that can't be matched in this waking world.

I've even tried drawing. I can draw simple shapes and such, but I always come up a blank when there's a bit of paper in front and pencil in hand.

So there you have it.. the ubiquitous blog post. Writing about not being able to write.
-len

Driven..

It's been a month now since we picked up our very first new blue car (or blue new car, as the girls sometimes refer to it). It's time to take it in for it's first service - once I get around to

organising it. Needless to say,

she purrs - and is a joy to drive.

I admit, I can be a bit over-protective. Rach can attest to that. Although i

n that whole month we didn't once cover it. Probably a bit silly, given how much we actually get in a car and drive.

We also got a new car seat for Autumn to go in

this car, so we won't have to swap the baby seat back an forth so much. She seems to like it, and it suits the car.

We also go a new cat. When Rach and I first saw him, we knew she'd be a good temperament for our girls. What we didn't know was that "he" was a "she" - until we picked her up the next day. Yep, that's right.. another girl in the family.

She's a good fit, this one. I haven't had a single kitten sneeze since we brought her home. And trust me, it's not for the lack of trying. I'm constantly rubbing my nose in her fur and giving her cuddles. She's sooo soft. And while her claw marks do swell up like mosquito bites, they are few and not so far between.

And so it begins. Kitten and Car - meet the Ellis family.

I might note that the Kitten actually has a name - even though we most often call her puss. Her name is Zipper Puss Ellis. I like to shorten it to Zip now and again when she goes tearing through the house, but she really got the name from her love of anything shiny and dangly. Perhaps the greatest being zippers. She's not picky, any zipper will do. In fact she's been playing with the ones on my jacket pretty much all night.

So I think we're all pretty much up to speed. Almost. I'll catch you up on the rest, next time.

-len