Thursday, March 27, 2008
Mine is a diverse group who during their own journeys, have traversed the level five rapids of life. Survivors of the same traumas and disasters that have shaped us, molded us, ground us into who we are today. Each offers their own battle stories, insights, possible solutions, and identify with me and my circumstance through something that is reflected in their own past. They are my positive reinforcements, offering their tears, support, and a listening ear. They can also smack me upside the head with truth when need be. They are the support systems of my life.
My network isn’t made up entire of females, I can count a guy or two among the rank and file of my sisterhood. They include my husband, sister, my mother, my daughter, and all the rest are people I have never laid eyes on. People dear to me, while I am terrified to me them face to face. Although one or two of them I have met over the phone for an intervention, or two, of art rendering dialogue.
None of them watch the same TV shows I do, read the same books and authors, listen to the same music, or even dance to the same piper. But they all are mirrors of me. They reside physically across the universe and metaphorically right inside my computer. Their IM’s flash joy on dark evenings, sunshine on rainy morns, and devote silliness seven days a week, when levity needs to over throw the oppression of my work a day world.
Some are Catholic; some ex-Mormon. Others are Wiccan, pagan, or confused. Some just don’t believe period. I love them all. Some are republican (okay very few, but she gave birth to me and I love her.) Some are Democratic, while others are just politically apathetic. Some are vehement in their stance and some are adept at change when faced with great logic. But they are all giving of themselves.
Their words paint worlds in my mind’s eye. Their abstract colours sing to my depths. Their poetry creates vistas for my imagination. And their prose resounds in my soul. They are my network; they are the other half of me.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I consider myself a poet, I know quite bold of me. I’ve tried the poorly written American novel, as I’ve said copious times prior, “I’m not gifted with long term vision, and I can’t write by the seat of my pants.” It doesn’t mean that I don’t know what works, it just reinforces the long standing comment “Those who can’t write, edit.” I may have paraphrased something else along the way.
But I am a poet and over the years my focus has changed; hopefully my talent has evolved and grown. Eight years ago my daughter, Psam, introduced me to a Friday night poetry group. I was hooked, writing poetry and meeting each Friday night online to share, critique, and grow – it was and continues to be the drug of choice for me.
In the early days a topic was given at the end of Friday night’s workshop for the week (it still goes that way, but I usually set the topic.) Sunday morning in the quiet hours before the house awoke I would begin weaving words into metered and rhymed stanza. Sometime using the topic literally, others metaphorically.
The morning mist sets on the moors,
above the heather wet,
and holds the light close to the ground
the moist, damp air it's net.
The churning waves sent from the sea
batter the rocky beach,
the salt spray flies to meet the mist
where moors and ocean reach.
I raise my arms up to the sky
in praise, my morning rite,
drink of the day into my soul,
of salt spray, moor, and light.
The mid day sun rides on the sky
where Gulls and Petrel soar,
fields of blue, are the air and sea,
mauve, heather on the moors.
The foam peaked waves, crash to the sand
below the granite cliffs,
where churning winds, gear up to rage,
a gale wind strong and stiff.
I raise my face up to the sun,
drink in the wind and light
its strength and peace rain over me.
I breathe eternal might.
The western sun has gone away,
dusk heralds in the night,
a storm brews strong upon the sea,
waves gather strength and height.
Dark churning clouds are rumbling deep,
and flash with brilliant light.
Tempest winds howls over cliff and land
and blow with all their might.
I stand and breathe the elements,
drink in the raging sight.
it's pain and brute force bolsters me
in life's continual fight.
The morning mist lays on the greens,
a bonney day begins,
the birds are winging on the sky,
the bees are buzzing hymns.
The churning ocean will reach the cliffs
and kiss the basaltic rock.
The breeze will freshen on the bay,
and ruffle on the loch.
I stand in awe, in silent peace,
I bow my head to pray,
for the wind and rain, sun and mist,
I thank God, every day.
© 20 July 2000 Calista Cates-Stanturf
As the war began the surge of anger in my veins changed my weaving process; no longer could I write rhymed meter, the lilting voice abandoned me for several years. Suddenly my voice was jarring, asymmetrical, abrupt coloured black and gray and red. People began not being so entranced with my jarring work.
Dealers of Death sell their wares,
in the name of security and peace.
Thank the mothers of young
sacrificed on the alters of democracy,
good youths blithely thrown
after the negligent wants of old men.
Demigods whose clocks are ticking
fear no legacy in time.
Your mark spilt blood on the world
rends in the soul of humanity,
Renewed hate and ignornace.
© 21 September 2004 Calista Cates-Stanturf
While poetry comes from the heart, I don’t agree that every thing people call poetry truly is. Words must be massaged, have relationships with each other, build in to a painting that speaks to both the heart and to the soul. BTW, if you use the words heart, soul, and love in a poem be prepared to be battered, bruised and battled by academics without ability or sensibility.
Today I sit in the quiet. My metered voice has returned, but I can also write in my asymmetrical voice. The joy of poetry has returned and so has my writing. I will sit with eyes closed, a word in my head, a face in my mind, a vision for interpretation, I will write. Maybe it’s just for me; maybe some year I will actually query an agent or house for publication? Who knows? But I will continue to write, continue to share, continue to listen to the beating of the universe and interpret.
Covet, crave consumption
my lips it taunts
Purring pampered pleasured
oh, do I dare
dip into desire
of torrid, torturing thoughts?
taste buds haunted
unsated want and need
© 29 February 2008 Calista Cates-Stanturf
Friday, March 21, 2008
Hopping down the candy trail,
Hippity Hoppity, Easter's on its way!!!
Peeps that come in pink and blue, purple ones are just too new.
Hippity hoppity Easter's on its way.
Yellow peeps are right for me, you can have the pink you see,
Hippity hoppity EASTER'S On it's WAYYYYYYYYY!!!!!
Easter's here, and I think you stink,
To request your Peeps yellow or pink,
If you want your Peeps, then take it or leave it!
Cuz’ I got purple, YES! Believe it!
Hop to it!!
Support Purple Peeps!!
PURPLE PEEPS ARE PEOPLE TOO!!
From the Committee To Promote Endangered Easter Purple Peeps
Thursday, March 20, 2008
In the grand scheme of things thirteen, junior high, and zits are sooo small. But those years help mold who you become. Concentrate on you and the journey you’re on, for it all goes by so fast. Give extra compassion and love to your mother, it is so hard losing a child, but hers is harder because no one told her the truth. Embrace your siblings for they are the people who’ve been a part of your voyage and you a part of theirs. Have fun with your father, because someday you will discover his childhood was vastly different and shockingly poor in comparison to the childhood he and your mother are giving you. Learn his lessons, revel in his insights, and listen one more time when he sings King Of The Road. Because one day he will be gone, and the song will mean so much more.
Enjoy the rest of your childhood, grow, expand, and love deeply. Embrace the diversity of experiences that are handed to you everyday. Enjoy Lenny while he is there because one day he will be gone and you’ll miss him thirty years later. Spend more time with Grampa because someday you will live far apart and the visits will be far spaced and random, and then he will be gone and your heart will mourn the loss profoundly.
Friends will come, friends will go, some will die, some will take some very odd journeys but they will always remain in your heart no matter where you step. Do not measure your friends by what they have or do for you, but by how they answer your heart. Value them not for the time they stick around, but for the paths they have traveled with you and stayed true. Measure your words and keep them sweet, because Karma is a bitch and life is too long for things to not come full circle. And don’t fail to say the things you want to say, just think them through to their impact first.
Buy a copy of the Desiderata and save it for the inspiration it has brought you through out the years. Ginger Taylor will draw you a beautiful Osterich, protect it before it disappears and you are full of regret. Don’t break your mother’s necklace, it was a precious thing to her.
Remember the things that happen to you, not for revenge but to give you empathy for the plight and sorrow of others. Absorb each moment and experience, grow with insight and grace.
Hold on to your joy of change for as long as you can; in adulthood, roots become important so enjoy the freedom of change.
And remember to put on more sunblock. Okay? The sun at Huntington, Balboa, and Morro Bay will come back to haunt you if you don’t. Also buy stock in Google, Microsoft, and B of A early.
Oh, and don’t start smoking that last time, kicking the habit will begin a terrible chain reaction that begins with twenty five pounds that never go away. Infact, just don’t start again after you quit the first time. Do not ever think thoughts that begin with, “I will never…” because honey never comes far too fast and often for you to say those words, no matter how well intended you are.
And finally like yourself because you are pretty damn special, no matter how many times you get beat up, made fun of, and called names. It’s all about the journey.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Calista: (rolls eyes) Yeah, online.
Cele: No, really, some days I feel, I don’t know, thinner. Inside.
Calista: Like Frodo and Bilbo?
Cele: No idiot, they had a ring.
Calista: Yeah and it was make believe, just like you feeling thinner “some days.”
Cele: (rolls her eyes) Oh, yeah. And you’re in touch with reality? Kind of like, how you remove jammies, pee, and THEN step on the scales?
Calista: Well it’s tare weight.
Cele: Yeah, tare weight. Then you get off, move the scale, and get back on.
Calista: Well the linoleum is un even.
Cele: Fifteen times?
Calista: Quality control. Like Olympic scoring; you throw out the high and the low scores and even it out for your total score.
Cele: Every morning? That is just fucking neurotic.
Calista: No, after all that water, rice and raisins I’ve got to find those pounds I lost, or lose the pounds I found.
Cele: At least we’re regular and our cholesterol is non-existent.
Calista: I know there is a skinny person struggling to get out. I can feel her ribs and hip bones, her flat, empty stomach.
Cele: Why, because Oprah told you so?
Calista: Hey, she’s wise.
Cele: And is that why you keep the size 8’s, 10’, 12, and 14’s of yester decade in your closet?
Calista: I’m going to lose it.
Cele: Oh, girl friend, you already lost it.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Here's how this one works:
1. Write your own six-word memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
4. Tag five more blogs with links.
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play. (This last step is optional.)
So I read this yesterday morning and considered it off and on all day long. Then I saw I'd actually had been tagged and the pressure was on.
Six words that I'd like to think fit me into a nutshell (because the reality is this butt will never fit into a nutshell)...
Daughter, Wife, Mother, Friend, Kind, Strong
But really isn't it all realitive? So I thought about it some more and came up with one phrase that fits my belief system and me...
It's all about the Journey.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
These little differences of mine over, say your’s, my husband’s, my friend’s, or a total stranger’s has come into focus over the past few years and caused me both pause and consideration. My birthday doesn’t mean a lot to me, it’s usually another day. But your birthday, wow, it means a lot to me, and if you’re with me –physically--I will lavish you on that day and do my best to make you feel as special as you are. But my poor brother and his family still haven’t gotten the gifts for their 2007 birthdays. It’s not that I don’t love them, it’s that I’m a failure at getting things figured out, bought, and the most important part…shipped in a timely fashion. Their email birthday cards… arrived on time. My sister and I always laugh about how late we are getting our gifts to each other, it is a prime source of our amusement, and you know what it doesn’t bother me, but others, oy!
My family doesn’t do funerals. When my father died in December, no funeral, no memorial, no wake, but I light a candle for him and tell him hello, goodnight when I blow it out, and will ask him questions out of the blue, then close my eyes and listen for the answer with my heart. On the other hand like most people, my husband’s family does the whole big thing, then at Christmas time they take it a whole giant leap further with a tree at the cemetery, decorated, little lights, and play Christmas carols. See what I mean by big difference? I find it a bit over the top, but it is their belief and I honor that, who am I to say who’s right or … different? And Ducky has come to appreciate the no funeral thing a little bit, too.
I’m not a phone person, really I find myself at odds when I know I have to make a call. I can put it off for weeks. You can’t do anything else when you’re on the phone, so you sit there and listen, talk, listen and accomplish nothing, but touching bases. I know that sounds cold of me doesn’t it? But then you have to understand I’m extremely bad at small talk. When we meet, if I ask you about your job or work it is for two reasons 1) I have no clue as to what I should ask you 2) it’s because I’m really interested in you and your job. I mean it’s you. When we get to the weather then you know I’m running out of topics of dialogue. But my husband and his sisters, my brothers and my sister too… all phone people. I am away for more than 20 minutes and Ducky already has three phone calls under his belt. He constantly harps on me to call my mother, has my daughter called and if not (which usually she hasn’t) why not?…er because she’s not a phone person like me. The other day I answer the phone at work and their is a guy on the other line, and excuse me, but I am pretty damn sure he was in the bathroom.
I guess for the most part what bothers me is when we judge another and find them lacking based on our own oddities. I once had a friend, Twinkie, who came out to me, all his life he felt he’d been trapped in a man’s body and was going to begin living his life as a woman. I felt terrible for him and could offer him nothing more than my support and understanding, and to keep his confidence. Two months later he cornered my friend's wife and told her all his problems, which is his right. Later when I admitted I’d know about Twinkie’s decision and had not told, my bo...er friend was furious with me. I honored my friend’s wishes; it was not my secret to tell and what good would telling anyone have done? None, it would have done no good. Where he is today I have no clue, he walked away from Florence after his family walked away from him. But the point was that for one person keeping their secret is good, but telling another’s is good too. Huh?
My mother raised us in a very even Steven manner (do you capitalize Steven when you write even steven?) even down to our Christmas list. If she spent $35 (remember this was back in the ’60) on one child (and she had four) she spent $35 on each child. She is that way to this day. I myself am the same way; it just seems fair. No favoritism, even Stephen (maybe you spell with a capitol but Stephen instead of Steven, or steven) and all is well. But I have one child who USE to count everything in volume. So weird.
I have more than one extended family member who is atheist or what they call atheist. I get extremely tired of being told my beliefs are rubbish? They are my beliefs, I don’t tell them their beliefs are rubbish, they would be highly offended if I did, but they have the right to shove their belief repeatedly down my throat. Huh? And what they base their belief that my thoughts are rubbish is on misinformation, but if you try to show them that, then you are trying to start an argument. Whatever. Personally to me it is ignorant, arrogant bullying.
And this one last rant. What about people who claim they are vegetarians because eating meat is cruelty to animals? But they wear leather boots, have leather couches (yes plural), and suede coats? And I’m the sick one.
Oh, I have a headache.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
(Side note: freverent or freverently are not real words. Personally I want to know why not? If...
Viewshed: the natural environment that is visible from one or more viewing points;
Nocebo: a harmless substance that when taken by a patient is associated with harmful effects due to negative expectations or the psychological condition of the patient;
Angolotti: pasta in the form of semicircular cases containing a filling (as of meat, cheese, or vegetables, are words why not freverant: a word I and many others have used for decades. Note I’ve never used Nocebo, Viewshed, or Angolotti althought the latter sounds delish [not a real word.])
Hers, Cindy at Mon Ami Gourment Deli & Antiques (Luscious Lemon Bars, not Angolotti,) are lemony, delicate, and sinfully divine. If you have a Luscious Lemon Bar recipe you think I would love, please bring it on.
But then a fortnight past, Debbie came up with a heart health recipe. Note Luscious Lemon Bars are not heart healthy. No this is a spendy (not a word) little vegetable dish that is out of this world. BTW did you note I love to eat? See hips for further support of this comment.
Asparagus officinales: Plant whose succulent young shoots are cooked and eaten as a vegetable.
Yum-Yum. You take one bunch of Asparagus, and oh look it’s just the right time of year to buy it too. Because who in there right mind will pay more than $1.99 a pound for it? Not Me. Last week it was $1.49 a pound, this week $2.99, good thing I bought two bunches last week.
You wash your asparagus (duh!)
Break off the woody ends (double duh!.)
Preheat oven to 425°
Coat baking dish with olive oil
Arrange washed cleaned spears in dish
Drizzle additional olive oil over spears
(Actually I just rolled the spears in the dish to coat them, make sure you get the tips)
Sprinkle with salt to season
And bake for 15 to 20 minutes.
The tips get slightly crunchy, oh divine (apparently my word for the week) Ducky’s not hot on asparagus, so more for me, he can have my meat.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Weekly I am receiving emails that target Barak Obama. He’s a radical muslim, this decade’s American version of the antichrist. He was sworn into office on the Quran. His campaign is being funded by Hugo Chavez. He’s been endorsed by the KuKluxKlan.
Oh mi God, and people buy this?
Not only do I receive these emails, but they come with the statement that you can check out the facts on Snopes and then directs the reader to pass the email on because people need to know “Who could become our next president.” I’m rolling on the floor in hysterics. Does anyone check Snopes after receiving these emails? Apparently not the people who send them to me, because, duh! They’d have not passed them on had they done so. No, they just believe and pass the ammunition of lies. I wish people would go check out the Snopes website because then they’d learn more, in fact according to Snopes there are several more rumors drifting around that I’d not received yet, but it is still months away from November give it time.
First I have to address the idiocy of the KKK comment, come on get real. The only reason they would back Barack would be to put forward McCain.
Secondly if he wanted to be sworn in on the Quran (a holy book) why not? You don’t think Romney would have asked for the Book of Mormons? Or better yet the triple threat? I mean lets cover all bases.
Thirdly, Hugo Chavez? C’mon get real. While Hugo could back most anyone, I don’t think Chavez is that wiley or interested in American politics at this point of the race.
Fourth, and perhaps the most important, Obama is not a muslim, radical or mainstream. And would or should it really make a difference? We’re suppose to be a diverse society of open minds; all for one and one for all – hey, I can dream. But no we label, suck up the miss information, and carry our banners of hate forward.
I read a blog yesterday that accused of all women who vote for Hillary Clinton of doing so just because she has a vagina. Huh? I respect the guy who wrote it, but come on, I have a brain that thinks. Accusing women of voting for Hillary just because she’s female, would be like voting Barack just because he’s half-black, or McCain because he’s a fear promoting warmonger, er I mean Republican.
I would vote for either Obama or Clinton for several reasons, they are quite similar in the positions I’ve already researched. First and foremost, they are not Bush, ergo they are not McCain. Second, they are both green candiates. They are both relatively open minded. But yes, all candidates and their political party affiliation have agendas… people be damned.
Barack Obama is against the war and pro phased pullout, is pro patriot act…errr sort of. Voted against raising the national debt limit, backs SSI. Has been pro choice in the past, is pro stem cell research. Supports the death penalty on a case by case basis, voted for minimum wage increase, supports affordable drug and health care, supports amnesty/permanent legalization for illegal aliens and temporary, and is wilderness conservation minded. Is pro gun protections (meaning he doesn’t support individual gun ownership rights [based on his previous voting.]) And is wilderness conservation minded.
Opposes Gay Marriages, Net Neutrality, and educational vouchers.
Hillary Clinton is anti war, is pro patriot act. Supports a balanced budget, supports Medicare assistance, is pro-choice, pro stem cell research. Believes in the death penalty, voted for minimum wage increases, supports affordable health care, supports Amnesty / permanent legalization for illegal aliens and temporary legalization for illegal aliens as guest workers. Supports civil liberties, favors gay marriage, is a free trade advocate (yes we remember Nafta.)
Opposes gun control legislation, Net Neutrality, and educational vouchers.
And just so you don't think these rumors and emails about about Obama only, here's Hillary's Snopes page, er the one she shares with her hubby -- you know sins of the husband and all that rot.
My mother will blindly vote on fear and the Republican ticket. I am still weighing the pros and cons of the Democratic ticket, although I can’t vote during Oregon’s Democratic Primaries in May (because I’m independent.) But how many marching morons out there will believe and vote based on 1) calculating emails forwarded in bunny fucking fashion? 2) Listen to their specifically slanted network and cable talking heads? 3) or vote their parent’s partly line, just because it’s the way they were raised? My father once bemoaned, “How did I raise so many democratic children?” Those of us there laughed, because we are both Independent. My father would have voted McCain **shivers run through me** at one time I thought he was against the war, silly me. My mother will vote McCain. I haven’t made up my mind yet, and I don’t mean to sway yours beyond getting out there and deciding for YOURSELF. And then get out there and vote, do it early, do it often.
Think for yourself, use your voice, be proactive, not reactive. Now the question is, "Would you buy it for a quarter?"
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
So if you are curious I ranked at Junior High Level. Wow, that simple? I was kind of amazed. I note that Phoenix rated Junior High, too.
I tried this several times, just to make sure it didn’t cycle through the rankings, but it consistently came up Junior High over two days. So out of curiosity I tried it on my Wednesday Links Blog.
Now I really wonder what their criteria is?
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Here is Ricks Five Television Question Meme… But I’m adding a question so now it is Cele’s Six Question Television Question Meme
#1 - Name 3 bad things about television? (Maybe this is really a comment about the division of Americans in general.)
a) People allow today’s television to think for them. Political opinion comes from the network and cable talking heads. A person is guilty (far before trial-we've suspended a basic American concept of innocent until proven guilty) because someone says so, and hammers us with this opinion constantly.
b) One hundred and fifty choices and nothing to watch but reruns (er, the world according to Ducky.)
c) The loss of family hour. I remember watching the World According to Dave one night and hearing Ass used six times in one episode. After that it seemed like bitch, bastard, bad ass, and hell were suddenly common place, family hour faire. I cuss like a long haul trucker and was offended. (ergo, I’m one of double standards.)
#2 - Why do you watch television, when you do?
Mostly to spend time with Ducky, I’m a computer person, he’s a TV person. I am, I suspect, of the minority that watches approximately 1 hour of television a night or less – unless college football or baseball is on.)
#3 - Name three television dramas that you like. What makes each unique.
a) Oregon Duck Football (if you don’t think this is drama ask Rick about the Oregon / Oklahoma bowl game.) Fresh, frustrating, current.
b) NCIS (when its not reruns) I like the topics, discovery and technique is not far fetched, good character chemistry – oh and it’s on before 9pm.
c) China Beach (you didn’t say on TV today) I loved the characters, the content, the humanization of the war.
#4 - What's one of the worst things about television today?
I doubt I can keep this at one. The dumbing down of America – the loss of family hour – commonplace sick, depredating humor
#5 - What's one of the better things about television today?
The instantaneous news coverage
#6 – What three television programs would you bring back?
b) Joan of Arcadia
c) Mysteries of the Bible
Do you have a question to add? Question my sanity? Or just want to play? Please do and let me know when and where.