magistrate | An odd note on my spirituality...

Sometimes I get things that don't belong to me.

Or maybe I should rephrase that: sometimes things come to me that have no belonging with me. It happens fairly frequently with the art I do. Sometimes with other physical objects. Sometimes with works by other people – poems or books or whathaveyou. But something will come to me, and it won't let me alone, but it won't be mine. In these cases, I'm slowly learning that my job is to wait for the lurch of SEND THIS OFF NOW or make an educated guess at where that needs to be.

Once, frex, I was idly sketching, and a dragon came out. Not the one I'd been intending to draw, but when I erased him and started over, he came out again. And again. And then I was going to send him off to a friend who worked with that sort of dragon, but I got a sense of no, not now from it, and when I made to ignore those, a series of unlikely coincidences (including forgetting the flash drive I carried with me daily) conspired to prevent me from sending it off. So he sat on my hard drive and I'd poke him occasionally and give up again until one day, out of nowhere, I got this Send this off NOW spike which wouldn't let me leave the room. So I sent him off, where he was received, so I'm told, at exactly the right, critical time.

Or there was the time after I made skullbaby that I decided to make another mask, and started in on an Anubis one. Which then fizzled out and wouldn't let me finish it, and then I started hanging out with someone who worked with Anubis as an aspect. That mask now has a home, and is semi-finished, at least, and has already been used in a production.

It's things like this.

And my sense for these things isn't perfect; that's the cost of guessing, I suppose. But there have been enough hits (and only one real catastrophe) that I keep going with it, because if I don't, I end up feeling like a cad for weeks afterward.

Speaking of which, is there anyone who feels, metaphysically, like they're missing an epic Bengali lyrical love poem from me?

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Intuition is lovely stuffs, particularly when one pays attention to it and learns to cultivate it. It's awesome to hear that it works so well for you.

I'm often told not to do things, or not to share things, and I don't understand why till later. Sometimes, I don't find out at all. More often than not, actually. But I try to trust, anyway.

Yeah. Trust is the thing – that blind going-forward. Especially when it's something like a possible transgression over those interpersonal boundaries I never can seem to place with any accuracy. I suppose even the catastrophe could have been necessary, from a certain point of view; still, that makes it no less terrifying.

My biggest barrier often ends up being, "if I do this, it'll be a deviation from my regular patterns/what I said I'd do-- and I'll have to explain to the people around me why I'm making this change". Which, given "the people around me" = "Cat", I can do, and she won't think it's silly, but it makes me embarrassed, especially in the case that nothing comes of it.

Heh. I kinda want to just cultivate enough of an air of genial eccentricity that I won't have to explain myself. Then again, so far as I can tell, my gender is "effete sweater-wearing male professor."

...those two thoughts were connected in my head.

Bwah. ♥

Apropos of notverymuch, I'm currently working on a t-shirt design that says, "My gender is 'dragon'. Quit asking, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup".

--actually spun off "my nationality is 'dragon'", because everyone ever in America wants to comment on my accent, but I'm gonna make both. :3

*snerk*

One of my goals in life is to become fluent enough in another language that when people stop me to ask me to sign petitions or to talk to me about Mormonism or something, I can respond in Russian (or something) that I don't speak English very well, I'm sorry, but they should have a nice day.

Hee! I love hacking life. :)

I can't say that I do feel that, but Begali lyrical love poem? Bamf. My nudges and intuition are much less... distinct most of the time. Or maybe it's just that I roll so well with my intuition that I don't even notice it when it wants me to do/not do something. ^^;;

I can send it your way! It's got some lovely passages in it.

12

If you would be busy and fill your pitcher, come, O come to my lake.
The water will cling round your feet and babble its secret.
The shadow of the coming rain is on the sands, and the clouds hang low upon the blue lines of the trees like the heavy hair above your eyebrows.
I know well the rhythm of your steps, they are beating in my heart.
Come, O come to my lake, if you must fill your pitcher.

If you would be idle and sit listless and let your pitcher float on the water, come, O come to my lake.
The grassy slope is green, and the wild flowers beyond number.
Your thoughts will stray out of your dark eyes like birds from their nests.
Your veil will drop to your feet.
Come, O come to my lake if you must sit idle.

If you would leave off your play and dive in the water, come, O come to my lake.
Let your blue mantle lie on the shore; the blue water will cover you and hide you.
The waves will stand a-tiptoe to kiss your neck and whisper in your ears.
Come, O come to my lake, if you would dive in the water.

If you must be mad and leap to your death, come, O come to my lake.
It is cool and fathomlessly deep.
It is dark like a sleep that is dreamless.
There in its depths nights and days are one, and songs are silence.
Come, O come to my lake, if you would plunge to your death.

Wow. That's.... Gorgeous. There's something else about it that I can't put my finger on, but the general reaction is "omg that is so amazingly gorgeous". :O

And the entire thing is similarly lyrical and lush! ...it's also 85 sections long and takes forever to read, but, you know. Good for a quiet day.

It'd probably be terribly romantic to recite to someone, if you could do so unironically. Of course, like most things verging on romance, I think I'd be unable to by default. XD

I could probably manage. But then, I'm soppy. I cried when my ex-boyfriend asked me out 'cause he did it with a scavenger hunt, and got all our friends (and our youth pastor) in on it. It was really sweet.

Aww.

And all I can think of is my conversation with L where I was talking about how Jack's way of flirting with Sam involves things like taking him to see the Earth from the surface of the moon, and I was like, "You know, if someone took me to see the Earth from the surface of the moon, I'd probably go out with them at least once."

And everyone just kinda... looked at me.

Dude, so would I. Seriously.

XD Look at me, or go on a date? :P

Point being, I critical-miss romance forever.

Go on a date! Aub agrees, how could you NOT? I mean... it's the EARTH FROM THE SURFACE OF THE MOON!

SERIOUSLY. HELL, I'D PROBABLY GO ON A DATE FOR LOW EARTH ORBIT.

I don't think you critical-miss romance! What society sees as "romantic," maybe, but I've always thought that society's concept of romance was boring and limited. (Although the gifts of chocolate can stay. Om nom nom, delicious chocolate.) To me, romance was more about showing you care and sharing a sense of wonder, and looking at Earth from the surface of the moon is PERFECT example of that.

Thirding (Fourthing?) This. I'd SO go out on a date with someone who took me to see Earth from the surface of the moon. Seeing Earth from space would be the BEST DATE, imo.

INTERNET, YOU NOW KNOW THE KEY TO THE HEARTS OF A BUNCH OF VARIOABLY-GENDERQUEER PERSONS. WE TRUST YOU WILL NOT USE THIS KNOWLEDGE FOR EVIL.

Wow. That's powerful. I think what strikes me about this particular part is something I don't see in a lot of modern American love narratives: the idea that you don't have to play a certain role, that you don't have to be a certain way, in order to please your lover, but that your lover, in their love, simply wishes to accept you as you are. You can be a busy worker or an idle dreamer or an indulger in simple pleasures or even mad-- and you are allowed to be mad! There is a place for you with me too, even if you are mad! And no judgment!-- and there is a place for you, there is home and sanctuary for you, there is everything you need.

It's like the extended version of For better or worse, in sickness and in health-- except none of these cases are seen as any less desirable than the other. It's just, come as you are and I will find you a place, because I love you.

I find that quite wonderful.

...dude. Now I want to recite this as my wedding vow.

Maan. Are you planning an actual ceremony? Or are ceremonythings still in the hypothetical stage?

Hypothetical! Unfortunately. :( I kept trying to talk to my dad about a quasi-loan to help me get wedding bands, just... to HAVE, for goddess' sake, but no luck getting any response whatsoever on that front. So I'll probably just start sticking small bits of money away until I have.... about $700. *weeps*

:{

I have friends who got wedding bands tattooed. And then every year, as an anniversary thing, they find a little offbeat jewelery store or magic shop or antique store or something and get a couple of neat rings, even if they're just pewter ones, and have those as their wedding bands for a year. And then at the end of the year, when they go to get new ones, they retire the old ones and keep them around as mementos of that year.

That's cool! If I thought I could get Aub to sit through the pain (and not pick the scabs off), I might suggest it. ;)

Scaaaaaaabs.

...I kinda want a tattoo, just because tattooing fascinates me. But there has never been a symbol which has Meant That Much to me for more than a period of, say, five years, and I have a feeling that anything I could get a tattoo of would seem like a terribly silly thing to have a tattoo of a decade later.

Clearly, I just need a living tattoo. ...or to get really good at henna.

The poem seems to be full of turns and paradoxes. I keep re-reading it and finding new things. It attests so much and yet asserts so little; I have to stop and think to see if it's trying to say anything. Descriptive instead of prescriptive. Here's another bit:

26

"What comes from your willing hands I take. I beg for nothing more."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest mendicant, you ask for all that one has."

"If there be a stray flower for me I will wear it in my heart."
"But if there be thorns?"
"I will endure them."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest mendicant, you ask for all that one has."

"If but once you should raise your loving eyes to my face it would make my life sweet beyond death."
"But if there by only cruel glances?"
"I will keep them piercing my heart."
"Yes, yes, I know you, modest mendicant, you ask for all that one has."

Oooo. I love those little paradoxes. To me, it seems like you have two lovers - one who is staunchly content to receive what little the other will give, and weather any pain, and one who can give no less than all that they have in response to that love.

Hee. A slightly different reading than I had of it, which is awesome. (Things that can say so many different things with the same words are love.) I saw it more as a commentary on that first love – that the act of accepting anything, kind or cruel, was an act of consuming everything. Which is fascinating, to me.

It's true! And I love stuff that can so easily mean one thing or another or another and none of the meanings are lessened by the multiple interpretations.

...come to think of it, I bet a lot of this would work really well as performance ceremony, call-and-response sort, or just role-working. (And now I'm htinking of Raven Kaldera's ceremonies, like the Descent of Inanna.)

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