We Must Dare

I’m starting to think that Loki, the Norse god of mischief, has reincarnated in the shape of political news. Either that, or the air in my local pharmacy brings the raging crazy out of people. No fistfight, this time around, but only because the security guard on duty put an end to the lively discussion before the words of the pusher of buttons, the oozer of crappy-gold-plated rot, the orangey spite really got under every skin and caused a massive burst. I still can’t understand why they don’t change the channel to something less inflammable, like… The Short but Explosive Romance of Matchstick Girl and Dynamite Boy. Anyhoo, my pencil and I crafted the following blackout while waiting for my remedies:

All his illusions spread, plunder, dishearten… all.

 

The next blackout bit birthed rather interesting conversations. The ones that stuck with me (because I found them bemusing), were views that suggested that friendliness isn’t all that difficult if people really mean it. Nope, I’ve no idea what that means. Maybe the eyes of your brilliance are open wider than my own, and you’ll be able to tell me. I really wish to know how one can be friendly to all, without limitation, without thought, without knowing…

Unconditional friendliness is an art.

 

When I shared the bit below, I received a whole lot of agreement. This made me glad. I know, my Wicked Luvs, without clarification my gladness might seem a tad callous. But my delight was born out of knowing that every person who said “me too” to this blackout has loved. And we all know how the old saying goes, “It’s better to have loved and have been disappointed than to go around wondering why so many risk heart and sanity to get some.” Yes, I’m quite sure that’s how the saying goes. Really. Stop arguing already!

I know love…
and disappointment.

 

My last offering, for the day, is an invitation: now that horror is ordinary, and hope is turning into a mythical beast only seen by the innocent and the daring, we must dare to see, we must dare to think, we must dare to learn, we must…

Dare to hope.

We must, my Wicked Luvs.

 

Become the Uncanny

I know the darkness dancing in my gaze, how the rained-on-muddy-brown that fills my eyes is drunk on midnight and secrets. I glance at your face and feel… the need to invite your soul-tellers to look inside my heart. Can you see what blooms in there? The parts of me (growing deep-deep-deep), the pieces that mirror the bits you (almost) never show to the world? I see you, know you… because strange takes time to find itself. I searched for you and found you because the world is broken, slightly rotten… and I can’t fix it alone.

I’m using my weird
to kick impossible’s butt—
hope is exotic.
Let’s become the uncanny
change that makes happy the norm.

.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

When Minds and Hearts Bare Teeth Together… Freedom Speaks

I chose to write about Leonard Cohen’s “Democracy”, narrated by Neil Gaiman, on a desperate whim. I saw that my friend Debra, She Who Seeks, had joined Speakeasy and Silver Screenings in their O Canada! Blogathon, and I decided to jump in too. North America is being torn apart from the inside… connecting with my Canadian neighbors, in any sort of celebration, felt right.

My first pick was Lullabies for Little Criminals, by Heather O’Neill, then I realized that the event celebrates films… not books. Bursting with embarrassment—I’m always complaining about how people never truly read on the web—I rushed to choose something else before anyone could get blinded by the horror flashing out of my blush.

I said to me, “Well, Magaly Love (yes, I call myself Love), you adore Neil Gaiman’s narration, Amanda Palmer is a piano goddess, your bones believe in democracy, and since you know very little about Leonard Cohen (shame on me) here is your opportunity to learn.”

I felt so clever, so proud of myself for having chosen “Democracy”. But right now, when I’m in tears and brokenhearted (after having watched a Mexican-born American reporter being told “Get out of my country” by another American, after learning that one of my friends might not be able to get back into the only home he has left, after listening to Leonard Cohen sing:

Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate

I don’t feel very clever, just hurt and upset. Then I watched the short-animated film again, and welcomed the words of a Canadian soul—through the voice, music, painting, animation… of men and women from around the world. I let the bleeding cracks be soothed by Cohen’s words:

Democracy is coming to the USA
It’s coming from the sorrow in the street
The holy places where the races meet
From the homicidal bitchin’

It’s coming through a crack in the wall

I can’t really tell you if (or how) Cohen’s words, his song turned film… shaped (or will shape) cinema and TV. But… today, the promise in his vision kept one soul from losing its shape. It reminded me that when minds and hearts bare teeth together… freedom speaks. It even sings.

.
a wee note…

– This post is part of the O Canada! Blogathon 2017 hosted by Ruth of Silver Screenings and Kristina of Speakeasy. Follow the link to see what everyone else is viewing. And speak freely.

borrowed from Neil Gaiman’s Journal