Names

So Dan and I were listening to a little Cat Stevens tonight, and inspired by his conversion to Islam, we gave ourselves Muslim names. Hope that's not sacreligious. The name I chose is Sayid Suhayb. It means "master, of red hair or complexion." Very appropriate. And Sayid is my favorite character on Lost.

Anyway, I wrote a song. It only took me a few days to write, which is really good cuz it usually takes me weeks/months (or I just don't finish it -- usually the case). Leave feedback; I wanna get good at this so let me know what you think. Also, it doesn't have a name yet -- suggestions are welcome.


Gave your heart
To the first to make you smile
Hold his hand
Hold your breath all the while
Crushed

Try so hard to make it right
Blame yourself again
Just can't seem to find the light
He leaves you in the dark again

Keep him out
It keeps you free
To see the things you wanna see
To be the things you wanna be

Can't let him see that side of you
That mirror that you try to be
Cracked and shattered, pieces fall
Far too many holes

To keep him out
To keep you free
He sees the things you wanna see
He sees the things you wanna be


Shows you what you couldn't see
He's everything you couldn't be

Fingerprints

My favorite class in high school was ceramics. In my beginning ceramics class, while demonstrating how to attach a handle to a mug my teacher told me, “Don’t be afraid to leave your fingerprints on the clay.” As a budding ceramicist, these words changed the way I look at art and the humans who create it. Fingerprints, just like the people who own them, are unique. Too often, we are afraid to leave our “fingerprints” on any type of work we do, whether it be art or otherwise. Afraid of criticism, or maybe just wanting to please society as a whole, we begin to produce works that are bland and common. We cease to be true to ourselves, and we abandon our convictions and beliefs in the name of objectivity or open-mindedness. We’re suddenly afraid to “leave our fingerprints on the clay.”

Whether intentional or not, we leave small pieces of ourselves in everything we create. Critics are quick to point out these so-called flaws; quick to give their opinion why a piece of art should contain certain elements other than the ones portrayed by the artist. To suggest such is to say that the artist herself should have blond hair instead of brown; she should be 5’3” instead of 5’7”. An innumerable amount of characteristics makes up the individuality of a human being. And to criticize such an individual’s creations, artistic or otherwise, is to deny them the right to be human.

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody." -- Bill Cosby

Lasagna for one

Someone told me once that if you chew gum while cutting onions you won't cry. Whoever told me this must not have ever tried it because it doesn't work, as found out today while making supper. They also say if you cut the onion underwater you won't cry. I guess whatever it is that gets in your eyes stays in the water. While this make more sense than the gum chewing method, cutting an onion underwater to avoid tears seems a lot harder than it's worth.

I'll take the tears.

Dan, Nudie and I decided that we're gonna be homeless for a few weeks next summer. We're gonna get bikes and ride 'em from Boston to DC. We won't bring any money; instead, we'll sit on street corners with cardboard signs and beg. We'll spend a few weeks without shaving and maybe the same amount of time without showering. We'll sleep every night on the ground in a crusty sleeping bag. I'm not sure what intrigues me so much about throwing myself at the mercy of society, other than it just sounds like fun. Come to think of it, it seems much easier to survive being homeless than trying to survive otherwise. What do homeless people worry about? Getting something to eat. Finding a warm place to sleep. I'd venture to say that's about it (I wouldn't really know, I've never been homeless). I just think of all the things I worry about (money, school, relationships, etc.); I don't think they'd exist were I homeless. Granted, finding something to eat is a pretty big deal, but if that's all you're worrying about it doesn't seem so bad. I guess I don't worry about it because I've always been charitable to folks down on their luck, giving them a dollar when I'm able. I just assume there are other people out there like me.

If that's the case, then why is living in a stable home, earning money, having "things" so important? Because that's what everyone else has and society says that's what's acceptable? Sure I think there are plenty out there who feel the social pressure to have these things. But no, I think having a steady job and place of residence is important because it allows you to contribute to society and to the well-being of others. Which, to me, is important (why that is important could be an entire other topic). If you think about it, homeless people are somewhat selfish beings: they rely on others for survival without giving much in return. Which isn't fair to say, since I don't think anyone "chooses" to be homeless; there are plenty of reasons why it happens, most of which I don't and won't ever understand. And as far as taking from and not giving back to society, I'm as guilty as anyone else. I was simply making an observation.

But that's not to say I don't wanna give being homeless a try. It'd be interesting to understand these people, if only just a little bit. I mean, it wouldn't be the same. If push came to shove and for whatever reason I was unable to provide for myself, I have family and friends who could help till I get my feet on the ground, so I would always have that in the back of my mind. This would keep me from experiencing what it's like to be truly homeless. Kind of like the Pulp song "Common People" (although I'm more familiar with the William Shatner version).