Sparky's Crew

I spent the evening with my mentor, Sparky, and some of his friends at the Savory in Takoma Park. He was a professor of mine who refused to stop teaching me after my tuition was paid. Now, Sparky is much more than a mentor to me in many ways. The most profound characteristic (one of many profound characteristics!) of Sparky is that he is a man who does not believe in shame. With this component taken out of the relational equation, wonderful and liberating things have taken place for me.

Sparky is a brilliant eccentric that lives his life in an authentic manner that is full of meaning and depth. He has dedicated his life to the care for others, and has done absolutely amazing work in the process. He is a wise, witty, original (A humanistic-existential-phenomenological-gestaltist!) who makes every conversation entertaining and meaningful. He has taken time to help me out whenever I have needed it, and I am very proud to call him a friend. He has been a psychologist for 50 years! And, he gives his unbelievably expansive knowledge away to those he deems worthy of his attention without bravado, pretense, or conditions.

The group currently has no name. We were assembled to meet one another, because Sparky wanted his friends to all meet at one time. Tonight was ice-breaking with a fair amount of self-disclosure. Everyone, as expected, is very interesting, highly intelligent, and I am certainly looking forward to meeting with them again in the future.

two Robert Bly poems

The Night Abraham Called to the Stars

Do you remember the night
Abraham first saw
The stars?

He cried to Saturn: "You are my Lord!"
How happy he was!
When he saw the Dawn Star,

He cried, ""You are my Lord!"
How destroyed he was
When he watched them set.

Friends, he is like us:
We take as our Lord the stars that go down.
We are faithful companions to the unfaithful stars.

We are diggers, like badgers; we love to feel
The dirt flying out from behind our back claws.
And no one can convince us that mud is not Beautiful.

It is our badger soul that thinks so.
We are ready to spend the rest of our life
Walking with muddy shoes in the wet fields.

We resemble exiles in the kingdom of the serpent.
We stand in the onion fields looking up at the night.
My heart is a calm potato by day, and a weeping

Abandoned woman by night.
Friend, tell me what to do,
Since I am a man in love with the setting stars.


Moving Inward at Last

The dying bull is bleeding on the mountain!
But inside the mountain, untouched
By the blood,
There are antlers, bits of oak bark,
Fire, herbs are thrown down.

When the smoke touches the roof of the cave,
The green leaves burst into flame,
The air of night changes to dark water,
The mountains alter and become the sea.

Bronchiolitis

I had it all wrong! So, the baby was teething AND has bronchiolitis. Her symptoms arrived with her screaming in the car. She is okay, as long as we stay in the bathroom with a steamy shower going while I sing side two of "Master of Puppets." Long night, but she is still smiling between coughing fits. Poor sweet baby.

"Daddy, let's be divas!"

I have been looking forward to a solid week with the girls. So, yesterday we almost made it to a cool Takoma Park mom's Boxing Day party. Big sister was wildly exited and I was really looking forward getting out and meeting some new people. We got directions, packed bags with the appropriate amount of distractions, met all of the physiological needs, and then baby begins to scream bloody murder in her car seat (It also started to rain!). I was successful in gaining life sustaining caffeine at Starbucks, but eventually had to abort the mission. The baby's getting a couple new teeth, and she was having one hell of a time. The poor thing was not in a partying mood. Oh, well. She is doing better this morning.

I did get the opportunity to play "diva" with big-sister. My performance still needs some work, but I am learning as I go, and I have a great coach!

Baby's first Christmas..we showed her how it is done!

First we obscure dad's face for the only picture that is taken of him and the girls during the entire day.
Next, we pay a visit to mom's gingerbread house. (It's structural integrity was compromised after failing to withstand three drooling children)

Then we present the gifts.

(I'm not sure what Big Sister's grin is suggesting...yet, there is something rather malevolent in that expression "This one is for you, daddy. I know how much you loved the loofah brush from last year.")

Next, we have another picture!

Then we test out our stuff. Big sister loved this new gadget. Thanks to grandma and papa she will now be able to break into computer assisted graphic design!

Next, we kiss the nearest angel.

....and chill out with friends after a wonderful meal!

Xmas eve outing

Big Sister spent the day with mom at work. The baby and I met up with them and spent the afternoon at the National Geographic Museum.

The "Critter Cam" exhibit was a big hit!

The baby and I made it to the Hopper Exhibit at the National Art Gallery (I have been waiting weeks to find time to go) just in time to be crowded out by thousands of tourists.

The baby was angry. After breaking up a fight between her and a French tour guide, we decided to leave early. The last thing we need is an international incident on the day before Christmas.

Santa, beware.

Holiday lights at Watkins Park

The family loves the Holiday lights at Watkins park.

Sad Panda

The Holidays can be a lonely time for the endangered.

Metal 101

I have gotten a fair amount of static throughout my life for loving heavy metal. As a consequence I have actually felt a little shame from time-to-time (I remember one time in graduate school, I turning down a Priest song in the parking lot when I saw a classmate walking over to greet me).

Well, I have explored this at great length and have come up with some conclusions about metal that have helped me understand my love of this type of music. Here it goes: Metal is not music. My mother was correct. What she did not understand, however, is that heavy metal is, in fact, therapy.

When observing a real metal band playing, there tends to be four or five men working exceptionally hard at conveying their anger and frustration in a controlled, yet authentic, manner. They are using their instruments (insert Freud here) to channel and project their feelings into a highly charged musical composition. Those guys on stage are all working together, but are doing all they can to tap into their individual pain, anger, frustration, or whatever emotion cannot usually be expressed behind the machine or desk that people in our society are supposed to be tied to these days. This experience is so overwhelming that they bang their heads, rock back and forth like lunatics, often scream at the audience with rage, and spit vitriol in the process.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlF0amKrkhY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0AGUywHntw&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIXZDz2uzyQ&feature=related

The unfortunate requirement that music be popular, and accepted by the masses, turned this amazing form of expression into a spandex wrapped joke in the 80's when everybody wanted to dress like teenage girls and sing about getting drunk on the way to a party. This music is not real metal, but an extension of 60's rock and roll. The intent of that type of music is to alter and enhance an experience.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZHVkJ1wVFM ("Daddy says, 'She's too young, but she's old enough for me." WTF??)

Real metal, on the other hand, attempts to provide us access into parts of ourselves that we usually cannot bring forth. It is angry, or sad, or volatile, and usually pretty ugly (Lemmy could never wear lipstick). There are silly commercial bits, but that is just to get paid.

Well, Okay. The mechanical hand in the following clip is just...dumb, but just ignore that and listen.

NWOBHM:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4yHyHdJK5g

Thus, the popularity of the grunge bands, and return to quasi-punk in the 90's. It was a much more realistic portrait of painful emotion than what metal was capable of dishing out.

In my opinion, a true metal song is always a failure. There is something that everyone is trying to express with lyrics and instruments, but it just doesn't cut it. They are trying like hell, but can't do it. It is like they are saying: "I don't think I am getting through to you. Since your not listening to what I am saying, maybe this guitar solo can help you understand how I feel." That is how I experience an actual metal song, as opposed to a distorted rock and roll tune. I think this helps explain why bands turn to disturbing imagery and the occult, as a focus for their music. It is another way for the shadow to be brought forward and into awareness. So, as a result, metal viedeos and concerts are sometimes a little: aberrant, abnormal, absurd, antic, bizarre, deformed, distorted, eerie, extravagant, extreme, fanciful, fantastic, flamboyant, freakish, grody*, gross*, incongruous, ludicrous, malformed, misshapen, monstrous, odd, outlandish, perverted, preposterous, queer, ridiculous, strange, surrealistic, uncanny, unnatural, weird, weirdo, whimsical

This is also why metal shows are so much fun! They allow us to experience our darker nature in an acceptable way and with other people. Now some of these people may worry you when you see them! But they, like me, are just trying to reach a place where they can, for a short time, integrate more of themselves. These are a few of the masters:

Halford/Priest:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mYsET2Z3nQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djvkqiPmfJM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugJDx4ScF8Y&feature=related

Megadeth:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQgOR0_t7UQ

Maiden:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqpZDqrv4Xo&feature=related

Santa does what!

"And he brings us toys!"

Happy Girls

I am trying to remember. At what age do sisters begin to have heated arguments over things like leg warmers and Atari games? "You put a scratch in my Def Leppard record!"


What will I have to say? Oh, yeah. I remember,"Be quiet or you won't be allowed to watch Dukes of Hazard."

Tiny Beauty

Another flower arrangement brought to you by Big Sister.

One of the things that I love about being a parent is how it has altered my perception of beauty. Little gifts that I would have passed by without even missing a step a few short years ago have become magnified, and they now scream for me to notice. When I get home from work, I often feel like a cultural anthropologist attempting to determine what meaning can be drawn from some artifact that was left in the hallway or on the living room floor.

Whether it is a crayon drawing, or a little line-up of flowers, I am amazed at the innocently creative nature of my child. This was actually left for me on the sidewalk in front of my house.

Tent Flower Milk Stick

A sample of Big-Sister's art.

Sisters

I love how these two are already bonding. I was so worried about jealous feelings, but have been consistently surprised by big-sister's warmth and affection. She, in turn, is actually rewarded with the baby's smiles and giggles. How do people actually learn to want that kind of reaction?

These are my primary reasons for breathing. I have many others, but these three are the Earth, Moon and Stars. They also are very well aware of how significant that statement is to me. This is the constellation as of 18 OCT 07, when viewed from the Eastern Seaboard.

First Post

I heard that whatever is posted online has the potential to last forever. Which makes this post my first attempt at immortality. Wait....I am both baptised and circumsized. Hmmm? So, this is my third official attempt at immortality! Greetings from beyond everyone!