That British Petroleum should be dismantled, the entire bulk of their wealth distributed to every ship, environmental expert and scientist alive to throw everything we have as a human race at cleaning up their fuckup, and each of their offices turned into a memorial for the part of the planet their executive decisions ruined. Oh, and those 12 humans that have died so far because of this.
Then, I think Obama should be demoted to a lifetime stead as the fucking rent-a-cop that patrols it.
If only I ran this world. Why isn’t human kind doing everything it can? Why isn’t this like the world wars where the culture and priorities of the world shifted in order to facilitate war efforts? Why do we only seem to be good at aligning in order to fucking kill each other?
My best friend just had a baby. The strength, power and intention in which she has done that, the kind of person I’ve watched her become and the kind of human being she is committed to encouraging her child to be has instilled a faith in humanity I haven’t experienced before.
And here, in the typical extreme fashion of my existence on this planet, is a situation which literally causes me to be ashamed of being part of such a viral, destructive, greed ridden festering wound on this earth.
I’m being torn apart. Christ I think a lot.
Submitted by courtnee in public - 05.27.10 - 10:01 pm
Having no technological advance in risk management in this industry over the last 30 years is absolute gross negligence and nothing less. I hope the people responsible for misappropriating such abundant resource fry for it. When will we get our priorities straight? When people like this start frying for not doing so, that’s when.
Unbelievable.
Submitted by courtnee in public - 02.12.10 - 9:41 pm
I try to be a big girl and stay focused, do good work and be a good person. I’ve spent a lot of time, energy and money on forward progression and overcoming a lot of shit, in therapy and beyond.
Sometimes, it’s just really demoralizing to be 30 fucking years old and still dealing with the ramifications of this in my life. Sometimes, it really does feel crushing and terrible and helpless. Still.
I can’t say I really know when it happened, but somehow along the line in the last year, I seem to have reverted to a kind of post-modern version of myself. It seemed not long ago I was feeling open and loving and free. Now I feel insecure, judgmental and threatened.
They say self esteem can be defined as being capable of maneuvering the challenges in life, accompanied with a sense of being worthy of happiness. I’ve got the first part down in general, I’m alive afterall, but the second, I don’t know so much right now. I’ve been unplugged and cut off, guarded and gun-shy. It doesn’t feel good. It feels sad. I’m hurting because of it.
It seems some deep part of me has been thinking of Love lately as weakness. Showing mine makes me vulnerable and others showing theirs for the likes of me makes them crazy or completely stupid. That notion is preposterous, to use one of Beaus favorite words, and knowing that doesn’t seem to be stopping my guts and instincts from living there a lot more often than I deem acceptable.
So it’s an emotional concern, one of those things that intellectual pick pocketing isn’t going to solve. Even then I don’t know how much I’ve actually been considering what’s been going on versus just letting my moods dictate how little I’ve reached toward others or allowed them to touch me.
It takes a lot of energy to be down on yourself. I appear self absorbed because I am. The part that isn’t as easy to see is that I act that way not because I feel the world doesn’t deserve my brilliance, but because I don’t believe I deserve the brilliance of others.
In an age when I am managing to support myself through a recession as a self employed healer and artist, I am all too frequently made frozen by a lack of confidence in regards to the worth of what I have to contribute in the world. I’d like to think it doesn’t show. But I suspect it does.
So it’s out there now, cultivating focus. That usually gets things moving. Time to see what happens.
Submitted by courtnee in public - 11.29.09 - 12:19 pm
Man. I am beat. And sore. And super happy. Or something like it.
The art-a-thon was largely transformative (or, transportive?) for me, in many ways. It was an intense weekend. More happened than I am willing to document, both for the sake of my poor body and because I want to hold some of it just for me. But let’s see what comes out.
The aerial piece I wasn’t going to do, and then decided to do, was a storytelling piece which in and of itself is a new thing for me. Incorporating acting and a storyline that’s clear enough for people to understand without alternate explanation is my latest progression in aerials, as well as slowing things down and expressing myself in less of the “look how strong and fast I am”. Expressing vulnerability in the air. I started by switching from rope to silks and doing “The Art of Self Love” act, in which the story is illustrated in the song lyrics.
This time, the story was illustrated by my actions, my face, and visual imagery. It was largely improv, a piece I’d only ever done in my head, which had come to me mid last week. Highly personal. Highly exposed. To those of you who may understand what it means to have finally done it – it was performed to music from the Batman Begins soundtrack (finally!!!). It was incredible, I got the most heart warming and appreciative feedback to date for my aerial work after presenting it. I will be doing the piece again at the Gold Show, on Saturday May 17th.
I painted some, sang some, spent time with friends, cultivating, supporting others works. I slept and took care of myself, spent a lot of time with Clayton that was beneficial and fueling for me, connected with new and old, past and present. I “acted” in a hilarious, incredibly fun dream theater play about superheroes and ninjas and girls who kick ass. I came to some heavy, wonderful realizations this weekend, which were fulfilling, nourishing, and highly meaningful for me.
After an intense and highly emotional conversation of the crack-my-heart-wide-open variety, I went to into the closing ceremony raw, feeling unprotected, impressionable, mailable, and a little afraid.
I’ve been feeling the presence of something, seeing it in my peripheral vision, something big, something I’ve worked hard for, as I’ve gone through the process of my blood paintings. The revisitation of needles, that process, which I have familiarity with in destructive senses, the spiral I see completing, the orbit I’m in, passing those experiences, washing them clean a little, redistributing new memories and associations to old hurts and self loathing.
I thought about that internal spiral while we walked a spiral maze that had been created on the floor during the weekend, in small groups. I thought about that sense of my life illustrated in physical reality, as I bumped shoulders with my chosen family, as I passed them while circling. Remembering that the last time I was using needles on myself, I was trying to die. Trying to run. Trying to lose my mind. I wasn’t safe about it. I overdosed. I used dirty needles, took risks. I wanted to hurt me. And now, I was surrounded by people I’ve cultivated in my life, to help me through that darkness. And they have.
To be drawing my own blood, safely (in perspective), sanitary, for the purpose of life, to express life, has been so grounding, confirming, strengthening for me. The bruises from it, while catering to my dark side, a part of me that recognizes the comfort I’ve taken in hurting myself, wanting to extract my pigment rather than wait for it to come naturally in my cycle (there are other reasons I don’t want to use menstrual blood, too) show me again and again that everything is a process, with polarizations, how much I adore soaking in all of it. All the aspects of it. How miraculous and intelligent our bodies are to heal themselves. And that we do heal. That damage is part of being alive, a part I don’t tend to hide from. That it doesn’t overtake my life. Not anymore.
Holding hands in a circle, a dear friend of the troupe and of mine personally gifted the studio with a giant dream catcher. She then offered us all feathers, which she had been collecting for the last 10 years, to attach to it to this new symbol of unity that will hang at the studio, and to offer something, or wish for something, or give thanks for something, in honor of ourselves while doing so.
I started crying. I couldn’t stop. I was holding something in view that I’ve rarely known how to hold where I could see it. It was glowing and morphing and brilliant. My gratitude for the space, for the people, for the experiences I had this weekend, for the love, for the gifts, the creativity, everywhere I’ve been, everywhere I am going – it was all wrapped up in this thing I was looking at. It was so beautiful to have, while I watched these people I share so much with participate in their rituals.
When it was my turn, as I tied my feather to the dreamcatcher, I cried harder, while what I had in my hands came into focus, in words, in my head.
I am so grateful, for my life. I am so grateful for my life. (I’m crying again writing this). I am so grateful for my life.
I felt liberated, and so substantial. Dense, and lofty. Dark, and light. Attached, and free. Flexible and sturdy. Vulnerable and strong. Overwhelmed, and grounded. I watched a great love of my life chose a place next to mine to tie his feather, mirroring its angle, silently holding his thoughts and wants dear to himself. I watched my sweet friend Cher give call to the universe to bring her sister back home. I watched one of my Heroes break apart a broken painting of his muse, and give a piece to each one of us. I watched my friend Gio honor his friends who have died of AIDS, a disease I’ve become intimately familiar with in the process of my education at school.
I watched so many wonderful people being present, being alive, being HERE, being them.
So much happened. So much I’m not mentioning. So many stories, paintings, pictures, songs, proses, dedications. So much space I’m holding for the world in this sore, tired frame, while I go about my dailys, integrating what I’ve experienced. Things that are happening for me, projects on the horizon that came about from this weekend and beyond, things to see, to do, to be, life to live. This was a fraction. Namaste. I bow to the light in all of you.
I am, arguably, on paper, in the worst financial situation of my adult life, right now. Rarely can I say I’ve felt so wealthy.
“I feel like a pearl of potential that’s finally been set in motion, snowballing down the favored slope of possibility I’ve only imagined the brilliant people must have randomly stumbled upon while slowly backing away from freaks like me.” Jan 28, 2007
Submitted by courtnee in public - 05.01.07 - 11:11 pm
I am delirious with fatigue, on my last nerve, sick to fucking death of lecture, sick to fucking death of feeling squeezed for time, squeezed for money, squeezed with responsibility and still feeling like a failure, barely passing my quizzes or getting enough practice hours in while my hands slowly rot and fall the fuck off. Which is painful, might I fucking add.
Fuck being a better person. I want some fucking spending money and decent sleep during the week. What the fuck am I doing this for. Who the fuck cares anyway.
Still no blood but I know I’m going to any minute, I catch whiffs of myself periodically throughout the day these last two and my tits are about halfway to acceptable size. Once that finally fucking happens I have the blinding cramps to look forward to for a couple days, then maybe a week or two of some sense of normalcy (HAHAHAHA) before it all starts over again.
Ha. Ha. Fucking ha, god, you sadistic goatfucking wad.
I’m going on another pill, I’ve decided, since I’m too much of a chickenshit little abused weakling to manage to get a IUD stuck up my cunthole without flipping my psychotic shit like a pussed out little braindead fucking whore. With this one I only choke on clotted hateorade once every 3 months. If my skin manages to survive the hormonal assault and I don’t end up face down in a pool of my own rabid oral foam or on a clock tower picking you fuckers off with a rifle it may just work out pretty well, really. That’s what I’m hoping anyway.
Oh, and I’m still fat in the gut after dropping 6 pounds this week, starting a liver cleanse, and taking the stairs. I guess my time has just come to look how I fucking feel. Which is somewhat like a prolapsed asshole, in case you were fucking wondering.
Why? Because shut the fuck up. That’s why.
Submitted by courtnee in public - 10.15.05 - 6:16 pm
I listened to a really fascinating segment on kexp this morning, in the “community forum” portion of Mind over Matters. It was about death and mortality, and how the awareness of which effects the human race and has contributed in a massive way to the state of the world, such as it is right now.
I’m trying hard to find a transcript online but to no avail. There was so much information there that connected with things I’ve been seeing other people taking about – The oppressiveness of most education, the loss of connection between humans, the fact that we are in “the apocalypse” RIGHT NOW and all that lovely shit.
But the gist of what they were saying, and have been spending a lot of time and energy studying and proving, is that the reason we find it so difficult to get on with folks who don’t share our beliefs in how reality is perceived is because it threatens the viability in our approach to internally resolving the matter of our mortality and how we handle that day by day, as opposed to the viability in how we think life should be lived.
Conflict that leads to wars and genocides aren’t so much about about life and liberation and the freedom to live how we want, they are much more about the freedom to believe in our own homey version of death and what it means and what, if anything, happens after. Fighting over territory/food/power happens, we are animals after all. But, we are the only animals on the planet that understand mortality and live with that terrifying, looming fact most of our lives, we are the only animals who war over belief matters and worship methods as opposed to territory and basic survival/reproduction, we are the only animals who make these mistakes and perpetuate our own miseries.
Because, think about it, if I believe that there is no heaven/hell and that I may possibly have a second chance at life, have probably lived a few already, and base my lifes work and choose how I feel I may be important in this world on how I rationalize and manage this eventual fact of dying, a person who believes otherwise and lives much differently would be a threat to my way of life, not because they want to pray seven times a day to some guy I don’t think is listening, but because if they are right in their beliefs on mortality, than I AM WRONG and so is everything I base my life upon.
I think the humans in this world are fear-based because of knowledge, more than of ignorance, and that’s the conscious, crystal clear understanding that we are going to die, so I really wanted to hear more when I noted what the subject matter was.
They conducted many studies where they talked to people in controlled environments and gaged a persons willingness toward violence, mass destruction, nuking other countries, and even voting for Bush, against whether they had recently considered death. People who had not been asked to think about death or something equally unpleasant answered questions VERY differently. When these same questions were asked, such as “Would it be worth it to wipe out a city of tens of thousands if it meant eradicating Osama Bin Laden”, people were much more supportive of the notion if they had been asked to think about their own mortality first.
They also talked about symbols in cultures, and how they are effecting us, and how cultures, particularly ours, are going so astray. When the $ symbol is one of the most important in a society, and children have been being taught this for decades and centuries, it’s a wonder we’re not even more disconnected with the earth and our own species than we are.
They touched on the civil unrest in our society, liberals and conservatives and all that. How the Olde Beliefs are obsolete in the face of science and freer thinking, which is threatening the realities of the Christian Right and so forth, and how this is an even bigger problem due to the fact that no viable alternative belief system has been offered or contrived.
It was an absolutely fascinating, revolutionary piece with lots of very sobering and informative notions and facts. In the quest to understand what the fuck is going on with all this insanity and all this fighting and all this horror, the timing was just perfect and information like this is so desperately needed right now, I’m just really touched.
There was so much more to this segment and I really hope that every human on the planet eventually comes to know of what these people are trying to say.
It got me thinking about a lot of things, including why I’m so conflicted, annoyed, afraid of and obsessed with money and the obligatory need for making it, having it, and spending it has had in my life and our society. I want to be free of the burden of needing and/or wanting money to survive, I don’t agree with its place in our world and I feel it’s extensively evil and causes massive amounts of problems, I don’t understand why it’s become such a big fucking deal, and I don’t know how to master being financially secure.
Even just having this instinct and belief causes more problems and internal conflicts for me; having this misplacement of “$” in the ranks of what’s truly important as a human being presented the way it was really clarified a lot of why I feel and act the way I do in regards to money, why it’s one of the first things to cause unrest in relationships, why I hate owing it to people or asking for it, and why I fucking want it so bad anyway.
And how, we are fighting and dying and suffering over nothingness, over things we cannot prove, over things that ideally would have no bearing on our lives, tripping over our own feet, our afflicted ignorance, our frustration over not knowing something that feels so very important to understand, over our arrogance that we have the answers to the unanswerable, and our inability to just not worry about it. We are all frightened, hissing, spitting, confused children hurting each other over things we will never control.
If only every person were to have the means to understand how truly futile and ridiculously unnecessary war and murder really is – so few of us when moved to express this have the focus to explain in terms that make logical sense, but there are some and hearing about this gave me .. faith, in people, to hopefully figure it out before that is futile as well.
Just really a fantastic way to wake up in the morning. I had forgotten how much I liked waking up at 7:30am on Saturday to lay in bed with my cat and listen to that show.
Here are the few urls I was able to dig up on the guests, their award-winning (and that’s an understatement) film documentary “Flight from Death” about this subject, and the people who have inspired them:
http://ernestbecker.org/ – The mission of the Ernest Becker Foundation is to bring advances in social
scientific theory to the public in efforts to reduce human violence.
http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nietzsche/ – “He believed in life, creativity, health, and the realities of the world we live in, rather than those situated in a world beyond.”
