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From within, from without.

Anger is a funny thing. It can hit you at any time, any place and for any reason. A woman might be walking down the street and without warning find herself fuming over the something as abstract as fiscal responsibility. A man, happily married for decades can become instantly irate if his wife chooses to do something without him. A daughter can become furious with her mother for no reason other than she is in the same room.

But where does all this anger come from? It seems to me that anger comes from two places, both of them equally difficult to differentiate between in the heat of the moment. First, there is the anger that comes from without – anger that is caused by the actions of someone other than yourself. Examples include anger at men who abuse women, people who vandalize for no reason other than the wish for destruction, anger at a family member for lying to you or hurting you, and anger at the people in power who are corrupt and immoral. This anger can be understood, as we all are born with a sense of right and wrong. However different these concepts might be from one person to the next, we are all born with a moral compass and apply it to our day to day interactions with society. The levels of our anger also vary. Some may feel an incredible indifference to a moral issue such as gun control, whereas others may become completely inflamed at the mere mention of the topic. At the same time, people can use indifference to mask their rage, preferring to block out what they cannot control.

But as hard as anger from without is to control, I believe that the anger that comes from within is even more dangerous and volatile. This anger has nothing to do with anybody but yourself, and it is always easier to identify what makes other people mad than what makes our own selves angry. This anger can come from many places, childhood issues, self esteem problems, a general feeling of helplessness or inadequacy, or many other places that I can’t even begin to understand.

I was angry today. One moment my mother and I are having a discussion, the next I am out the door, in the truck and gone. At first I thought it was because of what we were talking about – the hypocrisy of people preaching about saving the planet when the sheer tonnage of raw materials needed to sustain our current lifestyle is outrageous (I read in Isaac Asimov’s “Book of Facts” [1979, Grosset & Dunlap] that it takes twenty tons of raw materials each year to sustain one person in their modern lifestyle. I can only assume the numbers have shifted since then, and I assume in an upwards direction). Once I had left the house I started thinking that maybe my mother was the reason I was mad – I find her outlook on life to be more or less a complete load of hooey (75% of the books in my mothers library look like they came from a shop that sells tarot cards and mystical pyramids). But that was not the case either. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was simply angry, and my mother just happened to be in the way. Now, sitting here and trying to figure out what I am angry at, I feel ashamed that I let anything take control of me like that. But I seem to notice more and more anger coming from within these days. Not that the levels of anger are increasing. No it is more that I am starting to realize how much is really there. My belief that I was angry at others because of the way they behave is slowly being replaced by the realization that I am simply pissed off and looking for a way to lash out.

That being said, I feel that some of my anger has justification. My life has been a rollercoaster of emotions lately, and some days I feel like I am holding on with the barest grip. Toss in a big dollop of pregnancy and I spend my days just wishing for it all to be over. Having to live with a woman who drives me mad with her new age rhetoric doesn’t help (There are only so many times I can hear the words enlightenment, compassion or spirituality without wanting to scream. When the three words all come together in one sentence, it feels like my nerves are being rubbed against a grinding disc). Having said that, I also realize that I am probably not helping the situation. I can tell anyone where I think my anger comes from, but the deeper I dig into my emotions, the less I understand them. Am I angry at the boyfriend who kicked me out and the father who never understood me? Am I angry at the high school that made me feel like being different was a sin and a crime? Is it the mother who abandoned me in my early childhood that planted the seeds of wrath? Yes, I think all of these are factors. But I am also not sure that any of them are the direct cause of my anger.

My baby’s father left me recently. He told me I needed to sort my life out before we could live together and raise a baby. As angry and hurt as this made me, I have to admit he was right. But the more I examine my life and the events leading up to today, the less I can pinpoint what it is that I need to fix. So I can only conclude that there is some perspective on my life that I haven’t taken into account yet – that missing piece of the puzzle that would make all of this make sense. Until then, I can only hope to keep realizing where my anger is coming from and keep it tamped down so I am not hurting people who simply have the misfortune of being around me.

Until next time,
Z.

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Princess Sacha Baron Skywalker

I am watching Sweeney Todd with my little brother, and I just couldn’t resist making this photo!Image

 

Enjoy!

 

Z.

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The end of Charest?

I believe that due to the whole debacle in Montreal, Charest has no chance for re-election from either side of the strike. On the one hand, we have a group of “students” (whose vocation seems to be violence and destruction) who are dissatisfied with Charest’s “negotiations”. And on the other hand are the rest of the Quebec population, watching this man mangle the education system and completely fail to control the peace in his province.

 

If I was livig in Quebec right now, whether the strikes resolve peacefully or not, Charest has shown a complete ineptitude for the job he has been tasked with. If he is re-elected, I will be very very surprised.

 

And on a final note, I am still all for Quebec separating and removing itself from the teats of Canada. We have supported the madness for far too long.

 

Until next time,

 

Z.

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Spring, my windowsill, and myopia.

What a beautiful day today. There are tiny green leaves everywhere, and I got to mow the lawn. There is no smell I can think of that can compare with the smell of fresh cut grass. I went to a greenhouse, filled with the scent of earth and warmth – trays and trays of growing things. It was a feast for the senses. Three raspberry plants, a blueberry bush and some parsley sprouts came home with me. I am a little concerned for the parsley, as I had to re-pot them. They are sitting on the window by my other herb plants. I have dill, and mint as well as the parsley. They I grew from the seed, and they are doing really nicely.

 

I also acquired a new cactus. It is called a Pink Nymph. The thorns are really lovely – they fan out, forming a circle with one red-tipped thorn pointing outward from the center. The cactus looks as if it were covered with a web. Very nice. My other cactus is a Red-Headed Irishman, (or Rosie) It is starting to bulge outwards significantly. Definitely growing 😀

 

There are a couple succulent plants on the windowsill as well. My mother gave me this little one with oval leaves, and it has tripled in size since last fall and is sending up a bunch of new shoots. I just re-potted it so we shall just have to see. One of my other friends gifted me with a mature jade plant. What a gorgeous plant. The tips of its leaves have started to turn red. At first I was concerned, but I guess that means the plant is receiving more sunlight, which figures, as the days are most definitely brighter.

 

And last but certainly not least, my kalancho plant. It is a flowering plant with large broad leaves and a largfe cluster of little yellow rose-like blooms. It has also grown quite a lot since I re-pot it, and I am in love. The florist gave me some great tips for pruning it.

 

The garden makes me quite happy. I like tending my plants. It makes me feel capable, to raise and tend these plants – the first dill sprout made me feel like a champion.

 

It is interesting that the first step is always the toughest. A couple years ago, I had laser eye surgery. I was fairly close to blind before it happened. Severely myopic at any rate. The surgery was amazing. Life changing. Before, my eyes were a point of weakness in me. I was dependent on my glasses. Without them, I could not distinguish sky from earth. Last week I went to the optometrists for the first time since (excluding the follow-up appointments). My eyes are weakening again. I have known for a while, but damn. Back to spectacles.

 

I have a habit. Two years since my last pair of glasses, and I still compulsively try to push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. And soon, I will be doing it again for real.I am a little bummed out by this. Not severely, but it has most definitely been at the forefront of my mind.

 

I do not mind the fact that I have to wear glasses. I still have amazing vision, a hundred times better than what I did. And on a purely cosmetic level, I think glasses are a great accessory. I just remember that first moment after the surgery. I was still incredibly blurry, but I could not remember a moment in my life when I could see that clearly without glasses. And now my eyes feel weak again.

 

Oh well. In 30 years I will buy myself a new set of technologically engineered eyeball enhancement doohickies and have X-Ray vision. Boom baby!

 

Well until next time,

 

Z.

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Flight

The serenity of exhilaration

My latest artwork, Flight. This is, and will always be one of my greatest desires.

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Summoning

My latest artwork Summoning.

 

deviantArt and sxc.hu for all the stock photos.

I have been having a hard time trying to categorize my art style. I dislike calling myself an artist, because I see too many artists with too little discipline, skill or talent (or a combination thereof, and that has really tainted the word for me. Graphic designer on the other hand sounds too technical.

The closest I have come is professional collager. I take pieces out of different photos and create whatever I want. I have replaced glue and newspaper clippings with Photoshop and deviantArt, but the principle is similar.

I wonder why the girl in the picture is playing music near a dragon’s den? I am not even sure if she realizes it is listening.

If anyone can give me a suggestion as to what is missing from the picture (the midground seems a little barren), that would be most appreciated

 

Edit: Added dragonflies in the midground. It still feels barren, but I am glad I have something in that space now.

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Filed in Triplicate

This is a very important link – it is a copy of the Alberta Human Rights Commission complaints form. As you will notice, there are a great many different sections to describe the plaintiff (This one happens to be representing “Canadians United To Kill the Infidel and Drive the Jews to the Sea” with a sexual orientation of “Animal Play”), however if you scroll down past this you will reach the section where the defendant is described. This is no joke – and I quote “IF NOT WHITE MALE, PLEASE EXPLAIN “

What?!?! Are you fucking serious? Some dogfucking anti-Semite gets a full page on the hurt feelings report but it is assumed that the defendant is a white male. I would like to take a stand on racism in this country. Racism against Caucasians.

 

Until next time, stay mad as hell.

 

Z.

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May 8, 2012 · 7:23 pm