Watermark

Creative Eccentrics/ Eccentric Creatives

A classmate brought this article (Scientific American: The Unleashed Mind, by Shelley Carson) to the Creativity class I'm taking. It explains so much!

 

 

Oh, you want to read it? Try these, or click the images to go to flickr for larger views (and credits), or just go read the entire article. I highly recommend it.

 

 

 

Quiet

   
     Photo by Cousin Sue Pinkerton

 

Yes, as a few of you have noticed, I have been quiet lately. I'm not writing -- but I am reading.

I'm reading:

Warped Passages: Unraveling the Mysteries of the Universe's Hidden Dimensions

The universe has many secrets. It may hide additional dimensions of space other than the familier three we recognize. There might even be another universe adjacent to ours, invisible and unattainable . . . for now.

Sent from BlueOrganizer
 

and:

The Happiness Hypothesis: Finding Modern Truth in Ancient Wisdom

In his widely praised book, award-winning psychologist  Jonathan Haidt examines the world's philosophical wisdom through the lens  of psychological science, showing how a deeper understanding of enduring  maxims-like Do unto others as you would have others do unto you, or What  doesn't kill you makes you stronger-can enrich and even transform our  lives.

Sent from BlueOrganizer

The first is a challenge to the brain, and I'm taking it slowly. The second is, I suspect, more a challenge to the will. I'm liking them both very much, lots of mind churning going on. I'm also thinking about:

NOVA | Ape Genius | PBS

In this companion Web site to the NOVA program Ape Genius, learn about the differences between human and ape minds, read an interview with MIT cognitive scientist Rebecca Saxe on the neural and psychological basis of social thought, explore an interactive primate family tree, view a slide show about an extraordinary linguistic bonobo named Kanzi, and watch two short video outtakes from the NOVA film.

Sent from BlueOrganizer

I'm especially thinking about the chimp who could not delay gratification when presented with the choice of two M&M's now, or five M&M's later -- until she learned her numbers, and was offered a choice of 2 or 5. The symbol gave her, apparently, the emotional distance required to make the more sensible (gratifying) choice.

I'm thinking about that a lot. Symbols are, after all, the poet's tools.

Guilt, Shame, & Responsibility

I didn't ask to be born!

For some reason, trying to sleep in the early morning, I think of this adolescent wail. And I think, all around this world -- probably across the galaxy -- people are born into poverty and abuse, slavery and illness, hardship and brokenness -- and none of us asked for this. Of course, some philosophies and religions suggest that we did, but set that aside for the moment.

When I worked with sex offenders, their victims and their wives, the wives (especially wives of men who abused their own children) would often claim the blame for the abuse. There are, of course, some wives, mothers, girlfriends, who do know -- even condone -- their husband's crimes. But usually, not. Yes, it is possible to not know; or to suspect, but deny.

After awhile, I began to see these assertions of guilt as a rather sophisticated avoidance of responsibility. As long as a mother blames herself for her husband's behavior, she is distracted from her own. She did not abuse the child. But perhaps she did ignore the complaints of her children; refuse to hear. Perhaps she feared change; feared how things would be if the denial stopped. Feared what she would lose.

She can't change his behavior; she can only change her own -- and that means, often (usually) great upheaval for the protection of her children.

Why am I thinking of this now, and why am I posting it here, on a blog about illness?*

Rich

The other night I caught a bit of Larry King Live, with Donald Trump  and Robert T. Kiyosaki, pitching their book Why We Want You to be Rich.

King asked for the definition of rich in this country. Curious?

If you make one million dollars a year, without working -- you can consider yourself rich. Any less? No cigar. Make that much, but have to work for it? You don't qualify.

So my feeling that I'm rich is just that: a feeling. I am apparently trying to create my own reality, out of almost nothing. At least by these standards. 

Many people in my situation, suddenly and completely unable to work, would be homeless, and hungry. But I own my house -- at least so far, though it's been a close thing more than once. Some people would call this an apartment, but I own it -- so it's a house. My house.

It's a house full of beautiful stuff. Well, OK, full of stuff that I think is beautiful, or useful, or amusing.

I have the collector gene. Even as a child, I collected things. When I had a job that involved a lot of travel, within a day or two the hotel bureau would have an accumulation of local objects: a shell, a feather, a stone; perhaps a piece of jewelry or other small artifact. A lifetime of collections came together in this house when I moved here thirteen years ago.

So I live here in this wonderful place, remodeled to suit me. Each day I am surrounded by things that I like -- some of them made by people I love. I share my house with dogs, and cats, and parakeets, and even, now and then, with friends. I am not hungry. I have this sweet little laptop (thanks to you.) I have been woven into the World Wide Web. I have a tiny, but beautiful, garden oasis.

Today, this country's population officially reached 300 million.

From Wikipedia:

The official poverty rate in the U.S. has increased for four consecutive years, from a 26-year low of 11.3% in 2000 to 12.7% in 2004. This means that 37.0 million people were below the official poverty thresholds in 2004. This is 5.4 million more than in 2000. The poverty rate for children under 18 years old increased from 16.2% to 17.8% over that period.

I live above these numbers. Only slightly, but above.

Am I not rich?

From Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary 

rich

1 : having abundant possessions and especially material wealth
2 a : having high value or quality b : well supplied or endowed   <a city rich in traditions>
3 : magnificently impressive  : SUMPTUOUS
4 a : vivid and deep in color   <a rich red> b : full and mellow in tone and quality   <a rich voice> c : having a strong fragrance   <rich perfumes>
5 : highly productive or remunerative   <a rich mine>
6 a : having abundant plant nutrients   <rich soil> b : highly seasoned, fatty, oily, or sweet   <rich foods> c : high in the combustible component   <a rich fuel mixture> d : high in some component   <cholesterol-rich foods>
7 a : ENTERTAINING; also : LAUGHABLE b : MEANINGFUL, SIGNIFICANT   <rich allusions> c : LUSH   <rich meadows>
8 : pure or nearly pure   <rich lime>

I would say that, by many of these definitions, I am rich, indeed.

You?

Last Days?

Was there ever a generation before this one -- my generation, the duck & cover generation -- that believed it might be the last?

Not the last of its village, or its nation, or its race -- but the last human generation.

We grew up with that idea. It faded, but how could it not have shaped us?

Then, at the beginning of our lives, we feared it would come, mushroom-shaped, in explosions and fire.

Now we seem to have come full circle, but with more options: intentional plagues, slow erosion, suffocation, flood. Fundamentalism.

But all "man" made.

I'm not thinking of believers in Armegeddon, nothing so common, so proclaimed -- but something deeper. Something we may not even know we feel.

Is this at the root of our famous narcissism: some embedded conviction that nothing really matters, anyway; there will be no one to inherit?

Of course, we are not the last generation -- but the last generation may have already been born. We hold them in our arms, and wonder. We hold them in our arms, and hope.