Thursday, May 31, 2007
Sometimes a song just hits the spot - and sometimes it doesn't.

Mean Old Man - by James Taylor

On my own How could I have known? Imagine my surprise Just a fool From a tree full of fools Who cant believe his eyes Imagine my surprise I was a mean old man I was an ornery cuss I was a dismal dan I made an awful fuss Ever since my life began Man, it was ever thus I was a nasty tyke who was hard to like I had to misbehave I did things in reverse Refused to wash or shaveI was horrid to my nurse I got back what I gave Which only made me worse I had to have my way Which was bleak and gray, oh dear Living in here One hundred years of rain Such a drag This riches to rags With just myself to blame A dirty low-down shame

Other lyrics by other artists have other affects - what affects you?

- posted by -g @ 9:25 AM | | 1 rocks in pond

When this site was first initiated in the Fall of 2002, I was blessed with the insightful contribution of several genius children. I would like to return to an early entry and ponder where I have been so that I might better understand where I am going.

Sunday, October 27, 2002
1) The law of interest dictates that we do what we want to do and learn what we want to learn: it is a choice. The job of a teacher is to present information in a way that promotes interest and therefore makes it more likely to be learned. The job of a student is to make an effort to absorb this information and not reject it based on the qualifier that it's information. There is a borderline between the jobs of the student and the teacher: what if the student refuses to learn? if the teacher refuses to teach? The teacher's job is not only to provide information but also to present it... a thespian indeed.
2) The law of diminishing returns dictates that if interest does not serve to keep a student engaged, the teacher must become more and more engaging. This can be avoided by getting everyone engaged in the first place, and the subject matter addressed will become more interesting as it is more deeply investigated. Many are content to be comfortable; the teacher must then run at them several times with an increasingly pointier weapon. Assumptions contains ass. Yo b****.

Thank you EZL.

- posted by -g @ 7:41 AM | | 0 rocks in pond

Wednesday, May 30, 2007
The following was sent to me by a friend who knows me well and was perhaps hinting that the content reflects my life - sigh

Russell Edson

A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face,
tilting it to his mouth. It's historical, he thinks.
He scratches his head: another historical event. He
really ought to rest, he's making an awful lot of
history this morning.

Oh my, now he's buttering toast, another piece
of history is being made.

He wonders why it should have fallen on him to
be so historical. Others probably just don't have it,
he thinks, it is, after all, a talent.

He thinks one of his shoelaces needs tying. Oh
well, another important historical event is about to
take place. He just can't help it. Perhaps he's taking
up too large an area of history? But he has to live,
hasn't he? Toast needs buttering and he can't go
around with one of his shoelaces needing to be tied,
can he?

Certainly it's true, when the 20th century gets
written in full it will be mainly about him. That's
the way the cookie crumbles--ah, there's a phrase
that'll be quoted for centuries to come.
Self-conscious? A little; how can one help it
with all those yet-to-be-born eyes of the future
watching him?

Uh oh, he feels another historical event coming. . .
Ah, there it is, a cup of coffee approaching his
face at the end of his arm. If only they could catch
it on film, how much it would mean to the future.

Oops, spilled it all over his lap. One of those
historical accidents that will influence the next
thousand years; unpredictable, and really rather
uncomfortable . . . But history is never easy,
he thinks. . .

- posted by -g @ 11:40 AM | | 1 rocks in pond

A letter from the past to shine light on the future - with this thought to preface:

Recollection is a discarded garment, which beautiful as it may be, does not fit, for we have outgrown it. Repetition is an imperishable garment, which fits snugly and comfortably, neither too tight nor too loose. Hope is a charming maiden but slips through the fingers, recollection is a beautiful old woman but of no use at the instant, repetition is a beloved wife of whom on never tires. Youth hopes and youth recollects, but it requires courage to will repetition. If you only hope, you are cowardly; if you only recollect, you are voluptuary; if you will repetition, you are mature - the more expressly you know ho to make your purpose clear, the deeper is your maturity.

On to the letter:

So here are three particular questions - questions that I ask myself often:

How it began: The emotion of: guilt, anger, abandonment, alone/lonely, unloved,-worthlessness…-

It wasn’t the kind of thing where I planned ahead of time on my calendar. It would suddenly just happen. I felt like I had no control over how many times a day I would cut. It all began, I suppose, when I fell into depression and lost interest in what I had loved to do. I would stay in my room all afternoon. Most of the time I did not even eat at the table I took my food and ate in my room. As time went by, I felt more alone than ever. I felt abandoned and left behind. Not having things to occupy my time, (note: when I did I was never stressed out. It was fun. So it wasn’t like I was overworking myself.), made me think of my pass. Something I had tried to overlook during elementary. How I envied, and still do, people who would talk with admiration of their father. I could never do that. I suppose, it was the guilt thinking,“ I made them argue! I was the reason why my mother was ever abused by my father! IT WAS ALL MY FALUT!” guilt- Probably the main reason why anyone cuts…THEN later, I would cut when more disputes arrived in the house, my brothers drinking issue for example, (affects all of us in the family and has hurt us all because we love him…)

How I began to let go:

I never took any counseling, group therapy, etc. However, being in a relationship with someone who has supported me, and made me feel loved, helped me overcome this battle with the knife. Feeling that I am not the person pushed aside, made me let go.. So now its been 11 months without cutting.

3. How I am now:

Every now and then, I think of all that has happened that’s why I had said “I am addicted to tears” Remembering everything brings me down… so I cry. . . late at night. I am still in the process of overcoming everything. I want to feel complete ,COMPLETELY!. I’m putting myself together slowly.. and writing the letter to Graf was part of overcoming depression and cutting. I would never go back! Not after I’ve come so long without the knife. No, I don’t think of cutting anymore- Another step on letting go-…there’s so much ahead, I could never go back never!

- posted by -g @ 11:31 AM | | 0 rocks in pond

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

What ever happened to her?

Stellar group here.

I actually have the darwing he was working on.

Nice hat.

She worked so so hard - so I send her a Harry Potter bow.

That image in the upper right corner is mine.

Does prayer work - even if it is over a cookbook?

- posted by -g @ 2:34 PM | | 1 rocks in pond

The photo was by Ann

- posted by -g @ 9:10 AM | | 0 rocks in pond

Mother and son at a small diner with chaos everywhere.
Can you tell by the expressions?

NPQ - N'importe Quoi

- posted by -g @ 9:05 AM | | 0 rocks in pond

Sunday, May 20, 2007
I've returned to this place after a long absence, indeed.

I saw it in need of visual revivification, so I provided for it.

I just now managed to log in to blogger (I had forgotten even my user name) and transfer everything to my google account.

A return to blogging?


- posted by dan @ 1:32 PM | | 1 rocks in pond

Friday, May 18, 2007
notes from underground by that romantic crazy-man:

I am a sick man. ... I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. Ibelieve my liver is diseased. However, I know nothing at all about mydisease, and do not know for certain what ails me. I don't consult a doctorfor it, and never have, though I have a respect for medicine and doctors. Besides, I am extremely superstitious, sufficiently so to respect medicine,anyway (I am well-educated enough not to be superstitious, but I amsuperstitious). No, I refuse to consult a doctor from spite. That youprobably will not understand. Well, I understand it, though. Of course, Ican't explain who it is precisely that I am mortifying in this case by myspite: I am perfectly well aware that I cannot "pay out" the doctors by notconsulting them; I know better than anyone that by all this I am onlyinjuring myself and no one else. But still, if I don't consult a doctor it isfrom spite. My liver is bad, well--let it get worse!

I think I am going to memorize this and use it as a dramatic method for getting attention at dinner parties.

my poor wife

- posted by -g @ 9:20 PM | | 1 rocks in pond


images from a recent trip to the net -these can be found when googling images of "amazing photos" - for those who are insistent upon credit being given to where credit is due - I beg forgiveness for my laziness but direct you to see the source for yourself - along with so many others that are stunning.

- posted by -g @ 9:11 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

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