i think inspiration in this world is like one giant process, or web...
someone creates something...whether it is a project, a painting, a poem, or just something they say...someone else (or many other people, hence the web, rather than just a sequence) absorbs that...kind of inhales it...then exhales another breath that is just as inspirational to others, that takes another form- another project, poem, painting, sentence, question, chant, etc...
just a thought.
August 15, 2007
August 11, 2007
a reflection
I wrote this this morning when my internet wasn't working, so I'm posting it now.
I’m one page into Gloria Anzaldua’s “Borderlands,” and I already had to put down the book to write down a thought. I think that’s the sign of a good writer. No, of an amazing writer. A good writer entertains, and even provokes thought, but an amazing writer inspires. A good book, you can’t put down, and an amazing book, you have to put down, because you can’t possibly absorb it all at once, nevermind allow it to do with you what it will and what it must, generate thoughts and responses and emotions. I think a good book is more like an experience than just something to read.
I’m thinking about land and nature and spirituality. What does it mean for me to feel spiritual in a nature which is not mine? In Palestine, it was very clear that to feel this way was wrong. I felt intensely uncomfortable when I was in Jenin and Kameel and Salem were showing me their beautiful city. The trees there were beautiful symbols and sources of growth and the rolling hills felt incredibly soothing, despite the occasional checkpoints scattered across them. I felt so good breathing in the land there, and that felt wrong. It wasn’t mine. Like did I really have a right to love it and absorb it and let it make me feel healthy and alive? I rarely think about that when I love being in nature here in the U.S., but I should. Earlier this week I went to the park and wrote poetry on my lunch break. The trees made me feel invigorated and as the words flowed out of my pen and into my journal I felt like I was finally awake and encountering the world again, like I used to be. But is that okay? I mean, this land is stolen just as much as Palestine is, and the idea that “that’s all in the past,” is obviously absurd and offensive. And when I feel at home in Brooklyn, because my family has been in New York for generations, and I live only one neighborhood(ish) over from where my grandmother grew up, is that any more “right” or “okay” or “not-fucked-up” than it would be for me to feel “at home” and happy in Palestine?
On another note, I'm currently listening to Suheir Hammad. Can I tell you my favorite line ever in a poem. From her poem "critical resistance," "A woman will tell you/ every home she has ever inhabited has been broken into/ starting with her body." Maybe that's why I love poetry. What takes most people essays or books to say, a good poet can say in one line.
I’m one page into Gloria Anzaldua’s “Borderlands,” and I already had to put down the book to write down a thought. I think that’s the sign of a good writer. No, of an amazing writer. A good writer entertains, and even provokes thought, but an amazing writer inspires. A good book, you can’t put down, and an amazing book, you have to put down, because you can’t possibly absorb it all at once, nevermind allow it to do with you what it will and what it must, generate thoughts and responses and emotions. I think a good book is more like an experience than just something to read.
I’m thinking about land and nature and spirituality. What does it mean for me to feel spiritual in a nature which is not mine? In Palestine, it was very clear that to feel this way was wrong. I felt intensely uncomfortable when I was in Jenin and Kameel and Salem were showing me their beautiful city. The trees there were beautiful symbols and sources of growth and the rolling hills felt incredibly soothing, despite the occasional checkpoints scattered across them. I felt so good breathing in the land there, and that felt wrong. It wasn’t mine. Like did I really have a right to love it and absorb it and let it make me feel healthy and alive? I rarely think about that when I love being in nature here in the U.S., but I should. Earlier this week I went to the park and wrote poetry on my lunch break. The trees made me feel invigorated and as the words flowed out of my pen and into my journal I felt like I was finally awake and encountering the world again, like I used to be. But is that okay? I mean, this land is stolen just as much as Palestine is, and the idea that “that’s all in the past,” is obviously absurd and offensive. And when I feel at home in Brooklyn, because my family has been in New York for generations, and I live only one neighborhood(ish) over from where my grandmother grew up, is that any more “right” or “okay” or “not-fucked-up” than it would be for me to feel “at home” and happy in Palestine?
On another note, I'm currently listening to Suheir Hammad. Can I tell you my favorite line ever in a poem. From her poem "critical resistance," "A woman will tell you/ every home she has ever inhabited has been broken into/ starting with her body." Maybe that's why I love poetry. What takes most people essays or books to say, a good poet can say in one line.
August 8, 2007
as though i haven't already made enough lists for one day....
inspired by a current instant message conversation, here is a list of some things i don't like, followed by another list of some i do:
roaches
verizon
microsoft excel
microsoft in general
capitalism
the irs
insurance companies
window fans that are so loud i have to check and see if there's actually a helicopter flying directly outside my window
sales recordings that dial your number trying to sell you airline stuff and begin the call by making plane sounds (it's very disconcerting)
did i say capitalism?
that time in the morning between waking up and drinking coffee
the way if you wear flip flops in nyc (bklyn incl.) your feet end up greyish at the end of the day
did i say roaches?
of course, the rest of what i usually dislike still applies (Israel, the U.S., war, occupation, prisons, cops, patriarchy, heterosexism, racism, etc) but the list above was just particularly relevant to my last day or so.
things i do like:
watching teenage girls kee-ya (sp?) and break through boards with their hands or feet and listening to their excitement about it before and afterwards
smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk in nyc
coffee
the trees blowing in the wind outside my window
my new air conditioner
breaking boards myself (such an amazing feeling!)
people that inspire me
people whose eyes light up when they are inspired
park slope
that one of my walls in my room is made of brick, which goes perfectly with my color scheme
plants
people who are friendly on the phone
writing poetry in Prospet Park on my lunch break
living within easy travel distance of my family and getting to do things i couldn't before, like meet my brother's new girlfriend and see my little cousins grow up
talking to people from other org's in ny and feeling the movement building over the phone as we make connections with each other
laughing with coworkers
people who teach what they love and love it
blogging and imagining you all reading what i write, and feeling like that makes me a little less far away
roaches
verizon
microsoft excel
microsoft in general
capitalism
the irs
insurance companies
window fans that are so loud i have to check and see if there's actually a helicopter flying directly outside my window
sales recordings that dial your number trying to sell you airline stuff and begin the call by making plane sounds (it's very disconcerting)
did i say capitalism?
that time in the morning between waking up and drinking coffee
the way if you wear flip flops in nyc (bklyn incl.) your feet end up greyish at the end of the day
did i say roaches?
of course, the rest of what i usually dislike still applies (Israel, the U.S., war, occupation, prisons, cops, patriarchy, heterosexism, racism, etc) but the list above was just particularly relevant to my last day or so.
things i do like:
watching teenage girls kee-ya (sp?) and break through boards with their hands or feet and listening to their excitement about it before and afterwards
smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk in nyc
coffee
the trees blowing in the wind outside my window
my new air conditioner
breaking boards myself (such an amazing feeling!)
people that inspire me
people whose eyes light up when they are inspired
park slope
that one of my walls in my room is made of brick, which goes perfectly with my color scheme
plants
people who are friendly on the phone
writing poetry in Prospet Park on my lunch break
living within easy travel distance of my family and getting to do things i couldn't before, like meet my brother's new girlfriend and see my little cousins grow up
talking to people from other org's in ny and feeling the movement building over the phone as we make connections with each other
laughing with coworkers
people who teach what they love and love it
blogging and imagining you all reading what i write, and feeling like that makes me a little less far away
August 6, 2007
cracked paint
Between the monotony of excel documents and the photocopy machine, even momentary meaningful conversations feel like cool breaths of air. And in this 90 + degree weather, the coolness is as essential to life as the air. Someone called today to set up a workshop for women in prison. Our conversation probably lasted about 10 minutes but she was real. I mean, she talked to me like I was human and she expressed emotion and frustration about the situation her organization was facing. Why is it that in a movement which theoretically reclaims the humanity of all people, we still need to relate to each other in such a fake way? I didn't even realize I was doing it too until I talked to her and felt relief. I also did not realize how much I prefer words to numbers. I knew it, but it was never relevant. It's probably the change of temperature from the heat outside to the air-conditioning in the cafe I'm in now (I still don't have internet in my house) that is making my fingertips feel dry, but it feels like it's the databases and numbers that have been occupyingmy brain all day. My fingers feel dry like they were dipped in pale grey paint and left to dry in luke-warm air till the paint stuck and cracked. Like their creativity has been stifled. The minute I allowed my fingers to touch a keyboard, metaphor started to come out (see two sentences ago!), like it was waiting behind some kind of floodgate for me to let it free. I don't want it to sound like I'm complaining. I'm not. Just philosophizing and blogging and wondering about things. Like why do we have to live in a world where my situation- having a job with a salary I can live on that I don't reallyreally hate- is a rare privilege? And like how am I going to go back to Palestine if I only have 20 vacation days/year? And if I go to Palestine, then how am I going to go to San Francisco to see all of you? See, questions, questions. But it isn't complaints. I mean, I know this work has to get done. I only wish it could all happen in poetry, over beers, and after 11am.
August 2, 2007
the revolution will not be filed
official update from amy to the bay area: i miss you!!!
in other news...i started my job! i'm not sure yet what i think of it. it's a lot of info to learn quick- a lot of computer programs, filing systems, etc...but yesterday, just when i was starting to feel really frustrated with all the techy stuff (how the hell did i of all people end up with a job that required tech knowledge??) one of the self defense classes for teens started happening in the dojo that's attached to our office. and i got to hear a bunch of teen girls yelling "NO!" while they practiced their strikes. so then i felt inspired.
i think a lot of my frustration is just that i'm learning that all the stuff they say about the NPIC (non profit industrial complex) is true. not that i doubted it's truth. i just didn't fully understand, and now, after 3.5 days, i think i 'get it' a lot more. i mean, if all of our effort could go towards planning and organizing for real change instead of filling out all these stupid bank forms and dealing with weird computer programs and filing everything...i feel like someone should write a book about how in addition to not being televised or funded, the revolution also will not be filed. it's all for government/board/other institutions. so i don't know. in this system, i know our options are limited. and as a result of that, we have to deal with the bullshit. and i need a job, and i'm happy that my job supports a good organization. but godammit, why can't we just have the revolution now??
in other news...i started my job! i'm not sure yet what i think of it. it's a lot of info to learn quick- a lot of computer programs, filing systems, etc...but yesterday, just when i was starting to feel really frustrated with all the techy stuff (how the hell did i of all people end up with a job that required tech knowledge??) one of the self defense classes for teens started happening in the dojo that's attached to our office. and i got to hear a bunch of teen girls yelling "NO!" while they practiced their strikes. so then i felt inspired.
i think a lot of my frustration is just that i'm learning that all the stuff they say about the NPIC (non profit industrial complex) is true. not that i doubted it's truth. i just didn't fully understand, and now, after 3.5 days, i think i 'get it' a lot more. i mean, if all of our effort could go towards planning and organizing for real change instead of filling out all these stupid bank forms and dealing with weird computer programs and filing everything...i feel like someone should write a book about how in addition to not being televised or funded, the revolution also will not be filed. it's all for government/board/other institutions. so i don't know. in this system, i know our options are limited. and as a result of that, we have to deal with the bullshit. and i need a job, and i'm happy that my job supports a good organization. but godammit, why can't we just have the revolution now??
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