Entropy

In between yesterday and tomorrow--      
today, mo chroi--
With those jagged, vertical lines
You made your choice
Without struggle, irreversible, final.
Tell me, beloved:
Was it nothingness you sought,
Or elusive relief, perhaps
Unreachable it seemed?

Merciful God, they claim, deems you a sinner.
Prodigal son, Bedouin without a tribe.
Locked out of Valhalla
Shackled now to Hades eternal. 

'Coward, you are,' Oh how mere mortals judge,
'Brought shame and dishonour
  to your God
     your country
        your family
           your friends.'
Their forked tongues seethe with righteous indignation,
     eyes of steel

          lips in perpetual sneer. 



But you fought, beloved-- 
Oh how you fought
     and raged
          and thrashed
against the quicksand
     in the darkness
          and in silence!
They never knew,
     and I...

          I saw much too late. 

In between today and tomorrow--
forever, mo chroi--
I shall carry this,
    peeking out behind the clouds: 
      beloved, yes--I meant to say. 

Adventures from the Eve of Y2K + 10 : Bahs-ton and CT Editions

Like a best served cold present from a curmudgeonly, schizophrenic, and menstruating polar bear  rapidly approaching menopause, dear ole New England weather decided to treat us all to fluffy sky dandruff on New Year's Eve Day morning. By mid-afternoon, the cobblestoned streets of Willard M. Romney's old stomping grounds became a lovely grey slushed winter wonderland. Ah, First Night. High-pitched sounds--decipherable only to dolphins--periodically emanated from the mouths of bundled up darlings whose parents were too busy gawking at OMG! Ice Sculptures! to pay them any mind. Summa cum laude graduates from the Mumbles Mennino School of Public Speaking served as MBTA workers for the day, informing us of delays and imparting words of wisdom from some homeboy named Grabauskas or however it's pronounced and spelled.

Perhaps because academic masochism has encroached into the realm of mental health  masochism, we decided that we absolutely positively needed to buy more sensible shoes that what we were originally intending to wear (translation: a modest pair of four inches, instead of the scandalous five) and jumped into the mosh pit called last-minute shopping. It's safe to say that WWE wrestlers now come under the guise of impassioned Nine West and Aldo loyalists who don't hesitate to use their Minx-adorned talons to show their displeasure over being beat out in a race to get that last size 7 foot torture device. 

After we escaped the 5th level of hell that is frenetic shoe-shopping, we then entered the 6th level called Food Court. In here, an ear-shattering cacophony of dolphin-decibel voices greeted us once again, mostly coming from dear little no-longer-bundled-up munchkins whose parents ignore them while fueling up for the eve's festivities with healthy, MSG-doused Chinese food or flatulence-trumpeting comida Mexicana. Since Regina's Pizzeria offers Italian grub that's as authentic as Madonna's British (by way of Ann Arbor) accent, we decided to skeedadle on over to Sakura, which serves Japanese food that's as authentic as a Chanel purse sold on Canal St. in NYC. 

While First Night is where most people choose to bling out the New Year, we were actually headed to good ole Mohegan Sun Resort and Casino. As usual, a scantily-clad gymnast dude with abs so chiseled it could've been displayed at the MoMa was doing this Cirque du Soleil thing wherein he hangs and contorts himself to all sorts of position from a tall ribbon dangling from the ceiling. Oh, not to be outdone by Dickie Boy Clark and Ryan Seacrest, the homies at Mohegan also had a ball drop at midnight. 

Overall, it was an okay way to spend the dawn of another year. I must admit, however, that this year, I would rather greet 2011 at home, with a small dinner with loved ones. Good food, good conversation, good people? I'd rather have that than spend a ton and cram into some place with thousands of people. Huh. Night in instead of out? I must be getting old ;o) 

For M, a Cherished Friend

M, being the usual kickass and thoughtful person that he is, sent me a list of Turkish songs and musicians a while back,  complete with YouTube links. Whereas some were of musicians that I already knew and loved--Mor ve Otesi, Pinhani, Portecho, Sezen Aksu, Enbe Orchestra, Teoman--some were hidden gems that made me smile like a kid on Christmas morning while I listened to them. M not only compiled a list of modern pop/rock/dance musicians, but traditional ones as well. 

Today  as I was listening to Pinhani's Istanbul'da , I was struck again by how nice M was to do this. M's is a very busy person whose work demands a lot of time and brain power, but M still managed to carve out some time to look up these songs and E-mail them to me. More than expensive presents on special occasions, it is the little unexpected presents--random acts of kindness, unexpected gestures of thoughtfulness--that I cherish the most. What makes me even more grateful is that this list of Turkish music was sent to me on an ordinary day. I had a rough day, actually, which became extraordinary because of this little present via E-mail. It is in these little details that I realize how lucky I am to have such amazing family and friends. 

So for my favourite Turk who doesn't celebrate Christmas, I dedicate these songs:

Hurricane

From the moment I met you

Something in your eyes

Wrapped itself around my heart

Was it the loneliness I saw?

Or was it the gentleness

That lay beneath the fire in your eyes?

In those tears you tried to hide

I saw through those defenses

And into your broken soul

You make me laugh 

You make me cry

You make me feel like I never have

You've built walls around you

For far too long

Like a hurricane in its wake

You push everyone away

Destroy everything in your path

Breaking the hearts of all those concerned

Oh, can't you see

That you and I are the same?

You and I

We ache inside

Hurricane

No matter how hard I try 

You could get to me

Like no one else ever can

You say the world's forsaken you

So much anger, so much hate inside

Never knowing what else to do

But shut out the world

Your smile covers up the poison you hide

Concealing scars you'd forever carry

You make me laugh

You make me cry

You make me feel like I never have

You've built walls around you

For far too long

Like a hurricane in its wake

You push everyone away

Destroy everything in your path

Breaking the hearts of all those concerned

Oh, can't you see

That you and I are the same?

You and I

We ache inside

Hurricane

Hurricane






You ache inside 

A broken child

But I still

I still love you

And I won't ever give up

On you. 

Gratitude

I am THANKFUL for: 

My Momma, who is the greatest love in my life. Seriously, I think Unehana/God was really being awesome the day S/He assigned mommas to kiddies; S/He gave me to her ;o) Can there ever be a love so visceral and so selfless than the one a mother has for her child? She may not agree with how I'm putting graduate school on hold to move to Turkey, but she understands that I need to find myself first. When all's been said and done, my momma is one of my best friends and I love her more than life itself. 

JC and RS, my soul mates. Calling them 'best friends' or 'sisters' seems so shallow, because they're so much more that that. They're the type of friends you can call at 3 A.M. or 3 P.M. and would go to bat for you when someone says an unkind word to/at you. They are fellow humanitarians--kind, generous, loving, strong--and through their deeds, renews my faith in the goodness of man.

BG, my best guy friend / Irish brotha ;o) He's the only man I would go into a fight for, if ever some woman broke his heart. He's a 3rd degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do and breaks bricks for fun, but he's also the gentlest man I know. With him, I feel 100% safe, because I know nothing could ever hurt me while he's around.  

My Native Ancestors, who taught me that we are not owners of the land, but rather, its stewards. I am grateful that even though policies have been enacted to rid AmerIndians and Hawaiians of our lands, language, cultures, religions, traditions, and lives, WE ARE STILL HERE. Man-made policies and tyrants may attempt to take away our freedom, but never take away our dignity and humanity. Nunna daul isunyi--The Trail Where We Cried--is THE PATH WHERE WE PERSEVERE. 

Being an American. Although it has its inequities and  I do not completely agree with my country's policies on war, immigration, and the current healthcare system, I am blessed to be a citizen of a country that is truly a global salad. The U.S.A. is not a Melting Pot, because that would imply that all the ingredients have to meld and lose their individual flavours in order to become a dish with one distinct taste. No, my country is a salad that allows individuals to retain their individual flavours and colours, while being a part of a unified dish. 

Having graduated from an awesome university (and currently 'taking some time off from graduate school'). Education is a luxury that some--if not most--people could only dream about. 

The fact that I am moving to Istanbul in a month! After a major postponement for a pesky health issue, it's finally happening ;o) Maybe I'll love it there or maybe I'll hate it, but this is an adventure I cannot wait to take. Life is an exploration, evet? 

The fact that I am NOT a Turkey 

 BEING ALIVE 

Dark Knight

Zero, you are—

Dark knight undiminished,

Worthy of love unconditional.

Monster, remember—

Beneath ruins' splintered shield,

You're still you.

For M

This is supposed to be a gift for a friend’s birthday, but I’m kind of thinking I should just buy a card instead. The base colour (#39) came out really well; as usual I used a lazy susan to paint an even coating. The “calligraphy” and “designs” were made using one of those squeeze bottles (my first time, which shows in the unsteadiness of the damn design) in colour #51. The calligraphy is a tugra ; it’s the translation of my friend’s name in stylized Arabic script. Another first…me doing Arabic script freestyle on a piece of pottery.



In any case, for the borders I used geometric patterns that are common in AmerIndian designs (I'm  Tsalagi), and the colours represent his birth month (green) and the fact that he’s a person who just shines (gold, like the sun). It looked somewhat okay when the paint dried, but after the glazing and firing…the flaws just went front and center.



Sigh.



There’s still time to stop by Hallmark or something. Buy him a card and a chocolate.