wasabi, soy sauce, hot sauce and ink on paper

Today I Prayed

That's right.  Today I prayed.  Those close to me know this can't really be true.  They know I'm not the church going, prayer reciting type.  My adult church going, getting dressed up and attending a formal service at a house of worship days, have been limited to maybe once or twice a year for many years now.  Most of those times were for weddings, christenings, or funerals.  And my piety is... let's call it weak at best.

But those close to me also know that I have a strong sense of spirituality.  And I do reach out to the powers that be, whatever we may call them, on a very regular basis.  I do attend services very regularly, usually daily.  I meditate deeply and get myself into a trance-like state while I rev my body up into a comfortable frenzy in order to get closer to the powers that be, in order to feel the presence, if not touch, the other side.  I dance a familiar and contemplative dance.  Regularly I seek the solace of losing myself to the groove of the universe.  This is what I do when I run.

My church, my service, my moment with my gods, for a very very long time now for me, has been my running.  I feel most natural when I run.  I know that we are part of something bigger than ourselves when I run.  I talk to my deceased mother when I run.  I give thanks when I run.  I figure out exactly what it is I believe in when I run.  And this morning, six days after the frightful events at The Boston Marathon, time enough to have finally gotten some much needed sleep, I awoke with a need, a desire, to pray.

So I slipped on a pair of shorts, laced up my shoes, got my cap, sunglasses, and dug an old green Boston Marathon t-shirt from deep down in my running shirts drawer and headed out the door.  I also took my iPod Shuffle.  I don't always run with music.  I normally like to just get deep inside my own head, without distraction, when I run.  But I knew I'd want the choir there at this celebration.  And man, did they ever show up — The Ohio Players, Ali Kahn, Sinead O'Connor, Los Lobos, Ruben Blades, Caetano Veloso, Cassandra Wilson, Miles Davis, Little Milton — all of these and more, playing their asses off at my own private prayer session.  Yeah you right!

So, you may wonder what I prayed about.  I'm still sorting that out, thinking it through, so many things.  I'll elaborate more on those things once they become more clear to me.  One thing I am certain of though, is that I'll be out there praying regularly.  And sometimes I'll be out there praying with an incredible soundtrack.

Just Lookin'

ink and acrylic on canvas

bridgescape

coffee, ink, H2O color on paper

Exhaustion

Exhausted,
I look for solace
in things that
cannot
possibly
bring me joy.

I live overlooking,
often,
all the beauty that
sunsets,
and artwork,

and a good cup of coffee,
and the feel of grass between my toes,
cool and fresh,
offer me,
freely.

Wolfie

coffee and ink on paper

The Internet!

I'm always surprised when I encounter people who apparently don't quite understand how the internet works.  I should know better by now than to be surprised.  I would think that computers, phones, and tablets, hell! even some TV's, being what they are today, would cause people to realize the ubiquitous nature of the web.  But some just don't get it.  Unfortunately, people are stupid or, in some cases, just plain crazy.

Here's the deal:  If you, or anyone else posts something on the internet (this includes Facebook) it's out there for all the world to see... period.  People in every part of the world with an internet connection have access to whatever that post might be.  Yeah, yeah... there are supposed to be ways to prevent someone, or a group of someones, from seeing it.  But those "security measures" are usually weak and rather easy to circumvent, especially in the case of Facebook.  And most often there are no security measures in place at all; it's just out there dangling for the public to access.  All you need is a device and a URL.

This simple fact allows anyone, people in Senegal, people in Slidell, people down the street, people who know you, people who you will never meet, ya momma 'nem, your little cousin, your boss, your girlfriend, your husband, your best friend, your worst enemy, to re-post, commandeer, forward, manipulate, appropriate (steal), or do all sorts of things with that information.

If there is ANY compromising information, photos in particular, out there on the interwebs, anyone with cyberspace access can copy and/or forward that shit to whomever they want.  Seems simple enough.

The real point I want to make here is that if you allow yourself to be photographed in a compromising position, at a public event, then that photo is posted to that event's public website, it is there for all to see.  And it is entirely YOUR FAULT, YOUR RESPONSIBILITY that it's publicly available!  It's not anyone else's responsibility.  There is no one to blame except yourself.

If you truly believe that any other person should be held accountable for your lapse of judgement in a scenario like the one I'm describing then you are absolutely, 100%, either just plain stupid or just plain crazy.  Own it.  You did it.  No one else.

Yeah you right!