surfing: brand x

1999 august 26

quilt

i am having trouble writing a cohesive entry, so instead today you get all the bits and pieces currently swimming in my brain all quilted together into a lovely piece of art you can fling on your bed, or hang on the wall.

why i will never be pc and will most likely go to hell

earthquakes.

like the rest of the world, i watched with horror as the news reports came in showing pictures of the devastation in turkey. i've been in earthquakes before, nothing quite so large thank the heavens, so i know how terrifying even a smallish one can be. i felt nothing but compassion for all the people who had died, or had family members die, those who were now homeless, those trapped in the rubble. especially those trapped in the rubble.

how can i go to hell for this?

the hell part comes when i think about the rest of my reactions. when i hear of an earthquake in some remote part of central america or coastal south america or los angeles or san francisco, i have the same compassion for the people. but i don't feel as badly about the whole thing because, other than the human aspect, what did we lose? some mud hills, some grass shacks, a high rise, a freeway, nothing particularly exciting nor historic for the most part.

i hear about an earthquake in europe or the middle east, even parts of china and southeast asia and i am devastated. what if the sistine chapel is rubble before i get to see it? the wailing wall? angkor wat? and those places i've already seen, but love dearly: the cathedral at strausbourg, the louvre, the place with the really cool giant gold buddha in thailand?

i am guilty of some strange global historical materialism.

a perfect example of the absolutely weird and incomprehensible dreams i have of late

last night i had a dream in which there figured a legal contract of some sort or another. it was vaguely tied into my job somehow, although only one of the people in the dream was someone i actually work with, and the setting seemed to be a dirt road on the edge of a farm, which is not where most business contracts are executed.

all throughout the contract, instead of using the world addendum, the authors had used the word pudendum.

i have no idea what my brain is trying to tell me.

the sunrise i saw this morning as i was driving into the office entirely too early for my own good

a barely there baby blue at the horizon, fading upwards into the softest pink imaginable, fading upwards into a yellow i've only seen before in the most dainty of jonquils, fading finally upward into a brilliant argentine white.

three minutes of ecstasy before it all jumbled together into a sort of morning orange as the sun started rising.

scattered, claire

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