The soul has greater need of the ideal than the real for it is by the real that we exist, it is by the ideal that we live

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Autumn

It's cold this morning!

I love fall though, it's my favorite time of the year. The weather is so crisp, the leaves are often so pretty, and there's still time to be outside.

My weekend has already filled up with the social whirl!

Friday night it's cocktails and dinner, Saturday it's dinner and then the play at the University with a friend, followed by strike, which shouldn't take all that long. And Sunday it's horseback riding with this new guy I'm curious about. Have I mentioned that I'm excited about that?

I had another dream last night which I don't remember at the moment but I do remember waking in the night and thinking how odd it was and that I needed to post about it as well. Maybe it'll come to me again.

I'm starting to wonder if it's not the Prilosec that I'm now taking that's causing all these nocturnal changes. I'm sure it's the culprit in making me feel warmer during sleep. Even on these chilly night I wake up hot and throwing off the comforter. Not me at all, historically I burrow deeper the colder it gets. But not so far this fall. And Prilosec is the only real change.

Ah well.

I have orders for pottery for the fall and winter already! I'm very stoked about that. It's been a couple of years since that happened. So I need to get into the studio and get moving next week.

One of the blogs I read daily is called normal for norfolk, the author lives in London, and he loves both trains and the male form, not necessarily in that order. One of his recent posts posed the question "Are we creating the notion that perfection on the order of virtual reality is the only acceptable look for a man?"

I couldn't agree more. We're creating a generation of bots. They all talk alike, they think alike, they accept that they're going to get screwed by companies and governments alike, and there is a pervasive attitude that looking like Kyle XY is the way to go.

Yeah, not so much.

I realize I'm older and that I've grown to love the notion that my man has lived life so he'll have some marks on him, but when one is young, no need to go quite that far. However, this bot style of plucking and shaving, and of every junior high kid lifting weights, is too much.

Let them be I say. Let them evolve. (don't let men lose their nipples though) and rejoice in all the sizes and differences there are out there.

Not that I'll be heard, but I wanted to say it.

And so it goes:




Celebrate them all!!!
Love