Dr. King (not disneyfied)

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I am responsible for the social media at work, so it's my job to find nice, innocuous quotes on knowledge, leadership, learning and other stuff to post on twitter and facebook.  Nice quotes made by nice people.  Inoffensive people. Uncontroversial quotes by uncontroversial people.  In my research I sometimes come across good quotes by people that I can't use.  Does it matter who said something if it's the right thing? Does this change the fact that the words are good?  Do the beliefs of the people taint their words and the meaning of the words?

I believe that they do.

What I was struck by in my research was how so much of what Dr. King said in the 1960s is still incredibly relevant today.  (For instance, Dr. King said  “Of all the forms of inequality, injustice in health care is the most shocking and inhumane.” As we struggle to find a way to provide access to fair health care for all in this country, this is timely indeed.)

Most of the information floating around on the internet (facebook, twitter, et al) around the time of Dr. King's birthday (15 January, observed as a public holiday on the third Monday of January) has (and will) refer to his non-violence and his compassion.  I'm afraid that with time the Civil Rights struggle has become disneyfied.  

Dr. King's room hours after he was shot (Steve Schapiro, photographer, 1968) source

The more time that elapses, the more memory softens the struggle by all those who fought for Civil Rights and endured oppression and injustice.  

This is not to discount his wonderful compassion.  As he said, “Never, never be afraid to do what's right, especially if the well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society's punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.”  I have found this to be true, and I would rather risk my safety to do something than stand by idly by.

 

So, while some may be celebrating Dr. King's non-violence and reliance on love as opposed to hate (both of which I also celebrate!), I will be concentrating instead on his courage and fortitude.  Just because time has passed it does make the struggle for Civil Rights any less harrowing and horrifying.  Just because it ended reasonably well and we can remember it with the "I Have a Dream" speech does not mean that we should not also remember that it is a struggle that remains on-going.

I leave you with this,  “Courage faces fear and thereby masters it” -- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

No Natural Fibers

Strangely, the title "No Natural Fibers" made me think of this song, "No Sunlight".  The human/stuffed monkey brain works in mysterious ways...

So, while getting dressed today I chose (through all fault of my own) no natural fibers.  Once I chose what have to be the world's ugliest trousers (which I think I will soon be giving away, as they are INCREDIBLY unflattering as well, and weirdly shaped), the die was cast, and the unflattering, mademade-fiber-outfit fairly built itself!

See for yourself!  View the hideousness in all its manmade fiber glory!!

Am I right?

In other news, I have not accomplished all that I had wanted to in my little sweatshop.  But sometimes my goals are bigger than my eyes (my eyes are bigger my stomach, or something).  But I have made headway in some areas.  Mr. Cereal's Christmas gifts are underway (yes, it is January), my sister's birthday gifts are underway (her birthday is Friday, and I am searching for something that needs to be worked on.... I bought it at Thanksgiving and it may be (I am hoping!) in my blackhole of a closet).  My stepbrother's gift is coming along nicely (Christmas!).  There are still things under the tree for folks... and cards to make and gifts to wrap...

For years now I've been slowing down at Christmas time. I feel the innate guilt of a defunct catholic over late cards and gifts (I do enjoy sending mail and post!), plus my own special guilt. I really do want to send things.  But somehow my mind is plotting against me.

What's really important, though, is my little sister's birthday.  

I remember the day she was born in 1980.  She is the best thing that ever happened to me and I love her to pieces.  She normally has a crappy birthday (she does not always get the friends she deserves) and I am trying to make her days special.  So this just serves as a special kick-in-the-ass talk to myself, reminding me not to let myself down, to treat her as well as I should, as well as I want to.  To treat her as well as you treat the person who is the best thing to ever happen to you.  The one person you remember since BEFORE they were born.

She doesn't always show it, but she's HYSTERICALLY funny.  And she is always super smart (like Russian super computer!).  And she's my person, even though she sometimes wishes she had more people.
As the Amish say-- a-woo-woo.

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Emergency trousers?

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I, like others, often struggle with what to say on the spur of the moment, like when confronted with a hideous baby, or when someone makes me really salty eggs (or, perhaps, more likely, when I make someone else really salty eggs, as eggs and chicken are my worst things to make and I have now made them both for Mr. Cereal.  I have done the opposite of what most people would do-- purely unintentionally, I assure you-- and cooked things I cannot cook first, rather than cooking my best things.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?  Dear reader, I was not thinking at all.).

I like the idea of storing some things up for emergencies--
like what to say in an emergency
and now have thought that maybe I should invest some-- time? money? effort?-- something in emergency trousers.

I like to imagine emergency trousers-- or indeed, emergency clothes of any sort-- as being the kind of thing that could save you!  There you are, you need something to wear for a special interview, an important date, or, the one special piece of clothing you are convinced will cause someone to see you the way you were always convinced they would.  Magical clothing which could save you.  Emergency sweatshirt which feels like a hug.  Big comfy emergency socks which warm you up just thinking about them. Underwear which are so ugly that they will convince you not to sleep with the wrong person.  Clothing that will save you, even from yourself.

And so, maybe it's not new clothing at all that would be suited to being emergency clothing.  New sweatshirts don't hug you the same.  New jeans aren't broken in right.  But the sweatshirt that you stole from your sister and you're not supposed to be wearing is the one that makes you feel beautiful and it's the one you were wearing when something good happened to you.  That flannel you loved that she left under your pillow when she went away to college was way better than one you could buy in a shop...
Old clothes are emergency clothes.  Old clothes soothe you and save you and help you.  I am an old clothes person. I am like used clothes, like the velveteen rabbit, I'm all worn in, but hopefully you love me better for it.

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the things we leave behind

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“Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack”
- Virginia Woolf



 Ever since I started reading I have been entranced by the things I have found within books.  These have included pressed flowers, postcards, receipts, lists, monopoly cards, and tickets.  The books I have with names and inscriptions are outnumbered by those which are not my own, though I have a few Shel Silverstein books inscribed to me from my parents, and a few others from dear friends.  I try, when gifting someone a book, to put in a book mark, a book plate, or something of that sort.  On rare and special occasions I have been known to fill lovely books with related ephemera-- such as a copy of A Very Long Engagement filled with associated postcards and photographs placed in just the right pages.

This article lists things found in a secondhand book shop in Oxford.  There's something romantic, mysterious, nostalgic, about these items.  At least that is the way I've always felt about what I find in books.  There were a job lot of one woman's collection in my local used bookstore, and I was so taken with her taste and her bookplates that I was tempted to buy up whatever I could of her collection, just so they weren't separated.  I am, obviously a sentimental fool.  Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I couldn't afford to at the time, and the books went to their separate homes.

I do love new books, don't get me wrong, there is something amazing about being the first person to own a book.  But there is something even better about being one in a line of book owners.  (I have to say that when a book comes to me I am often the last person to own it, at least in my lifetime.  Though I do try to pass books along when I can.)  I guess I will take my books any way I can get them, preferably in paper.

Back to the point...
Not only is there an article, there is an exhibition.  The exhibition features writer Wayne Gooderham's collection of books inscribed with personal messages of all kinds.  Information about the exhibition here, and Gooderham's blog full of the book dedications here.

And, a little song about secondhand stores, sort of.

Jeans are a type of trousers

Today's trousers: unsuitable for work, but I am wearing them anyway.  I'm a rebel! 
They are green, with patches.  PATCHES.  (I did not, despite my sewing prowess, install the patches myself.  They came pre-installed.  A strange concept.)

 

Now, part of my quiet and insubstantial rebellion at work is that I am in pain.  I'm in a little physical pain, and a little emotional pain, and a little existential pain.  I'M IN A LITTLE PAIN.  And so I express my pain in a healthly manner, like wearing inappropriate clothing and turning up for work JUST on time (not early! take that, work!).

This is a face in pain.

And not just because of the birds' nest hair going on. 

Anyway. Mr. Cereal has a sewing project for me-- something I have not attempted ever!-- jeans.  I'm a bit worried, but more because I see it as a challenge.  Luckily there is a ton of help on the internet.  And Mr. Cereal seems to believe I can do it.  (Though his words last night were less encouraging-- "you're my only hope!")  Ah, worth a try.  And I do like to have a project.  Plus, success would be incredible.  And jeans are, after all, a type of TROUSERS....

(I just can't say PANTS.  Pants = underpants.)

The saddest monkey in the world

nie moj cyrk, nie moje malpy-- just to remind you.

This is the saddest monkey

ever.

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Not my circus, not my monkey.
This is one of the saddest things I have ever seen.
Thank god he's got a coat!

Building things

I keep finding myself stuck in a rut in front of my computer, making notes on projects I find interesting and I'd like to accomplish instead going ahead and accomplishing them.  I'm very tired of this.

I want to go ahead and build things, write things, and make things instead of making a library of notes on the things I will one day build and make and write.

 Notes from when I was working on my thesis- part of my "library of notes".

I made a list, either last year or the year before, of vague projects I wanted to accomplish, like painting something that I wanted to hang in the house, sewing a piece of clothing I liked to wear, things like that.  Goals that are within reach.  The thing that I did not foresee is that by becoming involved with Mr. Cereal, those things are actually more of a possibility instead of less of one.  I have never had a boyfriend who is so encouraging of my goals while providing inspiration for new ones-- and not in a weird or creepy or overbearing way.  It's difficult to explain.  Since we have become serious I have become involved in martial arts (on the bunny slope-type level), which I am enjoying so much more than I ever would have imagined.  But I am also enjoying the things I do by myself even more.  I can talk about any of my projects or ideas with him-- publishing my thesis, creating Cornell-type boxes, embroidering a representation of a mass grave... and he has ideas on some of them (good ideas!), and ideas for other things I can do.

I am not used to this kind of thing.  This seems like what people have been talking about, about what relationships could be like, but which I have not had.

Anyway.  I'm making a plan to accomplish more. And I like that.
Oh, and I plan on keeping Mr. Cereal around too, if he lets me.  He makes my life a bit better all the time.

Made this for a friend a few years ago. She and her husband wanted fish, but had no room.  Viola!  I created a few fish they could hang from a bookshelf (I guess a fish-mobile of sorts) that would sparkle as they turned around.

yeah, it's corny...

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