paisleypiper's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- without media intervention Housesitting A live, remote entry. Quinn and I are housesitting for my former boss and her partner while they are working at a week-long intensive session at a nearby place. I sound vague because I do not know much about it. And I am on her computer, giving this update. What I know about former boss friend is that she is one of those intriguing people who you wish you knew better. But she has a close group, already, of other people around her. And they share a bond so deep it is a bit like a mote. And they are on the castle side. And Quinn and I are on the path up to the drawbridge. But at the same time, we are watching the physical structure of the castle and the castle dogs and cats. Rather, it is more of a ranch house in the woods. But I am clinging to my metaphor; I had the sense that my metaphor was working. We are here with the material aspects that support life while the friends are off seeing to their spiritual side of their lives and the lives of others. I think they are counselor guides, and they help others who have gathered to reach out, to get in touch, to see a different way in life. A way other than the standard way that we are issued just for growing up in America. There are things about myself that I do not know that I would have cultivated, had options been presented before me, arranged on a mat, for example. Often I use the image of getting in lines, prebirth, to sort out various aspects of who I am, who I have been, who I have the potential of becoming. I will say, usually to Quinn, that I stood in the analytical line far too long,.... I keep thinking that it feels so fitting that I am here with the castle. Because I seem to be so trapped in this other world, navigating, negotiating, trying to find my own way. But at a great price. I wish I could let go and feel more free in the world. And I think that in a way that is what I am working on -- to find my way to other lands through creativity and reflection. Somehow being here at this house for a week seems to represent who I am and where I am in life. I guess it could mean that I am somewhat trustworthy, too. Or that I am perceived as someone who needs a vacation. Do we ever really know what anything means? Yet to really deal with the signifigance of something, there is a need to assign personal meaning, isn't there? The past couple of days, I have found my thoughts contemplating deep, rural, forest Missouri. It is not densly populated here. The friends live in the middle, no kidding, of a national forest. If a person wanted a burito, it would be an undertaking. I was not given an aesthetic for rural Missouri. I do not know if many Missourians have an aesthetic sense of the dense brush and forest that is home. The extreme bugginess. The gaudiness of all of the plants packed in together. But also the surprising beauty of a meadow, or wild flowers, of odd tufts of grass. It is gothic, in a Young Goodman Brown way. But even those woods are no match for the rural Missouri Ozark foothills forest. When I told people about our vacation plans, they had the "why" look on their faces. A bit afraid for us. Because in our default settings, we cannot see the forest for all of the trees and scrubbrush. We cannot see the forest for all of the "Ozark" people who are trapped here, without good ways of making a living, having to be enterprising, having to have a garage sale, all the time. It is depressing and one would think why would you not leave? Quinn left her small town, Dismal Sepage. But there is a sense of "this is where I live and this is the way it is" that may keep people from getting a different sense of their options in life. And that is not anything I feel I can really comment upon. Truthfully, there needs to be a few people in these parts to keep things running, so tourists can see the forests and foothills. And people need family and community, what ever their construction of it. I take photographs in the landscape tradition. And am extremely haunted by the dense woods of the midwest and by the towns, slowly slipping away. I love to photograph places where people have been, to try to gain a sense of how we exist and what our existance may mean. Especially in the past -- in the uncurated past. I will post some pictures when I get back and do my darkroom work. I need to solve my relationship with the outdoors and the midwest before I can move forward. When I lived in Boston, I had this sense that I had just run away from this big job in my life, And it was difficult to return here, from a fantastic world there, to learn more about the mysteries of life. Instead of just getting a new life. I could not completely leave behind my attachement to the midwest (not that I don't need to travel, a lot, to other places). For me, the midwest is haunted in a way that Boston was not. And that sense of hauntedness has always moved me, quite deeply. Sometimes in a way that scares me so much I am aware of every sensation in my body. Sometimes in a way of seeing the subtleties in life and appreciating them. Without media intervention. No one has ever told me how to look at the midwest. Except to be ware of the people who are all related to each other and have three eyes..... you know, the whole hillbilly stereotype. Seeing the same thing in a different way. The other thing is that it is strange being in someone else's house while they are away. In a way, it makes me miss former boss friend. I can't help but have a sense of her based on the feel of her house, dealing with her dishes, listening to her cd's, looking at the things on her wall. I have not snooped at all, beyond reading the spines of the CD cases to see if there was anything to which we might enjoy listening. And we also looked through their video cassettes, in case we wanted to watch a movie. Other than that, you interact when you stay in a place with the built environment. And when it is not your own, and when it is not neutral -- like the environment acheived in a hotel or motel--it is a bit different. But I must say that the energy is quite good, and feels intentionally so instead of random. Time to go and call in cat one. More later. 4:50 p.m. - 2002-07-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||