Hanging in the Balance

Let it all hang out -- in both directions!

Keeping Balance in your life is not like walking a tightrope, but more like sitting on a pendulum (or a tire swing!) You needn’t be tense, watching your own every move, making sure you don’t go over one way or the other, for Fear of falling out of balance. It’s like hanging around balance, hanging out, or just letting it all hang out.

Life naturally swings you one way or another. The world is constantly shifting and tipping around you. The best way to deal with it is not to be rigid, but to go with the motion and just shift your own weight (which spiritually speaking is substantial*) back in the direction you want things to go.

If anything, the ideal way to remain in Balance is to indulge your Light and Dark sides equally but separately. There is no reason you shouldn’t go out to the club Friday night and then go to church Sunday morning (or similar, whatever your path may be). You know within yourself when you get to that point of imbalance: when you’ve had too many drinks to drive, or when you’ve been volunteering in your community too often and need some playtime for yourself. Paying attention to your own personal responsibility will keep you from going overboard.

And remember that things like guilt and resentment get in the way of balance. Having a sense of responsibility is not the same as beating yourself up for your mistakes. If you feel guilty about indulging (or resent having to work for a good cause), you will not enjoy it and won’t get the benefits that led you to want to do it. (Of course there are activities that will harm you, like say illegal drugs; again you must use personal responsibility: using something that breaks down your body or that risks your life security by breaking the law is not the kind of indulgence I would encourage.)

Balance is not about denying yourself the extremes. It is about knowing when to swing yourself back the other way.

Think you’re unsure of your limits? You know when you get that second slice of cake and you don’t even really taste it, or you get a venti coffee and it’s cold before you finish drinking it. You know when you see something on sale for an amazing price but you don’t need it or even really want it. You know when you have a friend who really cares about you and needs help that that’s more important than the guy/girl you just met who wants to go to the club. Your heart, your body and your mind tell you everything you need to decide where you need to be in the moment, whether to swing over to Dark indulgence or to sway back to clearing Light.

You know when someone wants you to use them…

You know when a game becomes an obsession, or when it starts to replace reality…

You know when people around you care more about what they think is fun (or, from a different point of view, righteous) than they care about you…

You know the satisfaction of work and money comes partially from accomplishment, but mostly from the quality of life it provides for you and those you love…

You know the difference between rest and apathy …

You know when you’re making excuses to yourself. Stop making excuses for excess, but don’t stop Living. Oh, and don’t make Balance an excuse not to make the most of it. Experience every aspect of the Universe, because it was created to enhance our pleasure and drive our passion.

A flat, blank piece of 50% gray paper is not art. Art must have contrast, light and dark, a thousand shades of gray, to create a picture of Life. But even if an artist’s image has much more shadow than illumination, a good composition will still be balanced in the way that light is arranged within the darkness.

 

*for those concerned about their “weight” I’m referring here to like a heavyweight fighter: your muscle; or like a big boss, throwing your weight around to get things done: your influence. Your strength as a spiritual being is quite powerful.

A Sanguine Feeling

a Calling from across Time

I feel a need to edit or rather add to my previous entries on vampires. I believe I mentioned I was specifically talking about “fictional” supernatural creatures as opposed to real vampires.

I have to admit at the time I found the real vampires a skeptical concept at best. I was somewhat aware that they drew spiritual energy from others, many of them without the use of blood, but essentially I had not researched them and knew next to nothing. My impression was that this was a choice, that most of them took blood or energy from willing donors or drank animal blood, and as long as it remained consensual (and the animals were humanely slaughtered food animals to start with), I considered it just a lifestyle. A weird, possibly a little delusional, and certainly dark, sometimes to a dangerously imbalanced extent, lifestyle, but just that.

However, recently I have met and formed a personal relationship with a real vampire / otherkin. In getting to know him, reading books he’s lent me and exploring websites on the subject, I’ve taken in a tremendous amount and had to adjust my opinions.

Now, I still think a lot of those who call themselves “vampires” are wannabes who like the taste of blood and are looking for power and status. But those who are real vampires would agree with me on this. There’s a lot of witches and wizards like this too, people who throw magic around and wear Victorian or all-natural clothes and pagan symbols just because it looks and sounds cool. (And don’t get me started on non-dark religions)

But for those who are the real vamp deal, it’s a pretty complex concept.

If you want information, look it up; it’s all over: psi vamps, sanguinarians, incubi / succubi, or simply vampyres, and their black swans and donors. My friend lent me Michelle Belanger’s the Psychic Vampire Codex, which so far as I have read, I also recommend.

But now I will get on with my opinion:

Okay, I am of the belief that everything in life is a choice. Yes, real vampires need to feed off of others. They do not produce enough life energy on their own. But I believe that if this is caused by some severance from the Source of the universe, that connection could be reforged. If it is a leak in the subtle (spiritual) body, that hole could be patched and healed. If it is a blockage preventing them accessing energy, that could be cleared.

My friend assures me if it is possible it would take multiple lifetimes (much of this centers around past lives) and a tremendous amount of energy. He is a particularly spiritual type of person (way more well-read than me), and has tried many different paths, rituals, and different types of energy.

On the other hand, even if a “cure” is possible (I do not believe anything is impossible; humans could fly without assistance of machines or wings if enough meditation and energy was put into resisting gravity), I am also of the belief that each person’s soul comes into their current life with a purpose, an intention. And that soul brings with it its past life experiences and knowledge and also all the tools and talents needed to accomplish that intention (not just otherkin, who are somewhat defined by their awareness of their past lives, but all beings). Silly humans that we are, we often forget that purpose by the time we’re old enough to walk and talk and therefore set ourselves on the path to achievemen. But our Soul remembers. If someone Awakens to realize their soul is that of the vampire, then there is some reason for that, something besides flat fate or karma from previous lives. Of course that purpose may be to be the first vamp to “heal” and become fully human again. Or that purpose could be to use the vampire’s advantages to better their lives, to Change the World. Every vampire should strive to counterbalance the costs to willing beloved donors with a greater Purpose in Life. Preferably not one of dominance or “evolution” over “mortals”, but a purpose within what they call (unrelated to the stupid book) the Twilight: the balance between the Dark Side and the Light.

the Phantom of the Musical

Angel of Music NOT All I Ask of You

The musical Phantom of the Opera is one of those things that the Darkness utilized to Call me early on, much like Interview With the Vampire, and still earlier, Count Duckula and Beetlejuice cartoons. I am not as much into any musicals now as I used to be (I think my generation, at least those of us always young at heart, being raised on Disney films, we are naturally drawn to forms of entertainment that combine story and music, finding we can watch things like Chicago or Cabaret and not bat an eyelash at musical interludes.) It is also one of those things that makes me have to question myself. Here is a pretty straightforward scenario: music-obsessed man kills people until the naive singer he possessively trained gets the lead role, and later threatens and manipulates until his own opera is staged. Not an admirable person, yes? Why then am I unmistakably drawn to him. Perhaps it is because I see myself as a mad genius?

I certainly don’t find anything to relate to in the pretty rich boy, Raoul. At best he has interest in the arts, but no talent or skill except paying the bills (which I realize now, as a professional artist, is nothing to be sneezed at). But I’m more inclined to see him as interested only in the girl, a nostalgic childhood sweetheart turned popular dreamgirl. He goes to the opera because it’s something rich people do, something his parents did. His one saving grace is he is not such a nob that he thinks he can’t marry a chorus girl. In fact such a problem is never mentioned. But my biggest problem is he sees her as needing to be rescued, not just from the Phantom, but he’ll ride her away in his carriage and four…away from the opera. Away from her career, her fame, her glory, into the life of a rich man’s wife, mother of his children, and by the way, into society where she will be considered trash no matter her talent and successes.

I realize now, as I’ve grown up a bit, the Phantom is one of the classic bad boyfriends: the Man Who Loves You For Your Talent. At the worst such an archetype is the producer who sleeps with his young protege, promising her movie roles. But the Phantom is a much more alluring, and emotionally dangerous, example: the fellow Artist. The problem being he cares more about Art than life itself, his or yours, and certainly not that of anyone who stands between you and your artistic goals. His love is serious, passionate and romantic, but it’s not You he loves, not all of you, just the part of you that shares his passion for the Art.

But all this is analytical breakdown of a masterpiece. The fact remains, all those who love The Phantom of the Opera keep coming back for more. Although I don’t sit and listen to it for hours, don’t sing along with every note, I still pause and close my eyes and daydream each time Music of the Night pops up on my iPod.

The Phantom musical is one of those things that channels Darkness. It takes a classic gothic novel, a chilling look at a gruesome genius not only of music but of all trades, and makes it into something far more romantic and beautiful. Something that calls out to the Soul of the Dark Seeker.

Those of us who root for the Phantom to win the girl aren’t really fans of murder and manipulation. What we want is for the Dark Prince to exercise his power.

And too, I realize now that in a way he does win. He doesn’t get the girl, but in reality those who share a passion for Art don’t always make compatible partners. That is so unromantic, I can’t believe I just said that! Of course people can always work things out if they are determined enough to stay in love. Love doesn’t require compatibility, nor does compatibility automatically result in love, but if you are going to live with the one you love for the rest of your life, you gotta work out whatever comes to clash between you. But the Phantom, at the end, has the girl and the rich kid in his clutches. But Christine isn’t as dim as she once was. She kisses him, expressing maybe not love but understanding, far more valuable to someone in his situation. He releases his need for vengeance and acts from love, not hate. And then he disappears before the mob can find him, presumably to make a new life somewhere else. In fiction, the villain only gets away when the story is part of a series. Therefore, the Phantom is not a villain. He is our anti-hero, the one we are hoping to see become better than what he is, to become his True Self, a worthy representative of the Darkness.

I’ve always defended the Phantom somewhat, not that the things he does are good, but his motivations are powerful and valuable traits. Passion about anything, but especially about music or any other art, is much needed in the world. Caring for nothing outside of music is crazy, but having no music to express your emotions, that leads to real Madness. The pain of the broken heart is relieved by playing the blues, the soul is lifted by the classics (both “Classical” and “Classic Rock” if you ask me “Soulshine is better than sunshine, it’s better than moonshine, damn sure better than rain”), the mind is kept on the cutting edge by edgy new styles and revolutionary lyrics. I also loved the somewhat fantastic element: he uses magic, although it turns out to be stage magic and hypnotism (something I missed in the movie, although it’s nice to see Christine following him of her own free will, and the swordfight was cool). But even after his methods are revealed, after the curtain call, our minds hold on to that vision, that rumor and myth, that the Phantom has power and excels ordinary human ways. He’s like any real life performer, an expert at stagecraft, and a master of his Art. We know magicians use slight of hand and misdirection to do their tricks, but it’s still magic. We know actors are not their characters, but the stage has that fourth wall, the camera becomes our own eyes, and it doesn’t matter, it feels real.

And the Darkness is real, and it comes through the characters and, far more strongly, through the music. We cling to stories like this because we want to feel that Darkness and be connected to it over and over. But over time any one source becomes harder to connect to. Events in our lives or simple observation of aspects of the show we can’t condone (murder, manipulation, etc.), eat away at our linkage through that story. But that doesn’t mean the Darkness is any less True, or that we can’t connect to it. We can appreciate the Phantom and his music for the way they brought us closer to the Dark. But eventually we may have to abandon that source, release our attachment to the death and destruction and ditzy chorus girls, despite their lovely vocals that we can be proud of singing along with. But we take our Darkness, and our music, with us as we carry on our Journey.

Odes to a Dark Future

Alight to Guide the Way

A lot of magazines and ezines I find out there in my search for freelance illustration work are centered on the themes of “dark fiction.” To most this is characterized by Lovecraftian fantasies and gritty noir cyberpunk sci-fi. There are unexplained demonic activities or gruesome rituals or madly brilliant killer hackers. Alternate worlds are full of people who would not only kill you but also eat you as soon as look at you.

While my own works are rarely horrific, I have no problem translating a frightening story into a disturbing image. The authors certainly write me happy letters, and it gives me a chance to flex my stylistic muscles and show off what I can do in ways that my own writing and themes would not.

One of my favorites to work for is The Future Fire, which has been on hiatus for some time now and I am happy to say is about to re-open. A fair number of their stories that I’ve read are not only dark but dystopian. (In case you don’t know: dystopia – noun – a society characterized by human misery, as squalor, oppression, disease, and overcrowding; opposite of utopia) Not everything TFF publishes is dystopian. They’re looking for things that are progressive, aiming to change the reader’s perception of the real world. This is what I like about them, often prefer about them over other magazines I’ve read. I’ve never read anything in TFF that seemed hokey or shallow. Even if I was disturbed and turned off by a story, it wasn’t for lack of quality in storytelling.

But many of the stories I’ve read do have positive endings, if not clean and happy ones. And some can even be magical, in a surreal way (which I’d have to say, is the better way; I always think of magic as something chaotic: waving a wand, and saying a spell, and *poof* it works, does not feel magical to me). One of the stories I illustrated, Daughters of Hralln, actually turned out very positive I thought. The concept of it, survivors of a meteor crash making a new life through the winter, was as much “adventure” as it was the dark sci-fi subgenre. Thus why I was inspired to do more of a “comic book” style to the artwork.

I’m not a fan of dystopian stories myself. We need this type of fiction certainly, to remind us that things could be worse, or more often to remind us of where the path of “good intentions” that we’re already on is likely to lead us. I’m just the type of reader that looks for something magical and positive even within the Darkness. Too often dark fiction takes a situation, a character or creature or object, that is beautiful in it’s strangeness and Darkness, and at the end of the story the beautiful thing is destroyed. I do not care for a plot trope that builds on and builds up our need for Darkness, and then crushes us.

Dark fiction certainly has it’s place in the Higher Dark. It feeds into our Darkness, giving us other worlds and strange people and creatures to warp our perceptions and challenge our thought processes. It breaks free from the normal world and the safe comfort zones of mainstream fantasy and sci-fi. But this is one of those places I sense the fine line between Riding the Darkness and being ridden by it. The drowning of all hope and light is not balance. The rule of fear and hate is not goodness. Not that I’m saying these are the goals of the writers and/or publishers. Not at all. I merely caution them not to get caught up in the gore and monsters and forget to let some meaning shine through, that tiny candle in the benighted desert.

Classics

where is the darkness seated: in the book or in the reader?

Frankenstein! Dracula! Jekyll & Hyde! These names are to our culture as common and well-known as Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. Even if you haven’t seen the movies, either the classic black and white films or the newer remakes, even if you haven’t read the books, almost everyone knows the essential stories. Anyone can recognize the favorite costumes, tricks and treats at Halloween marked with the famous images. There are still more villains and creature characters familiar to those who are fans of the genre: the Invisible Man, the Morlocks from The Time Machine, Dr. Moreau, the Phantom of the Opera, Dorian Grey, Faust, and the countless hauntings of houses and other venues that drive the protagonists mad.

Other famously classic movie monsters are the Wolf Man and the Mummy. Up until I did some research for this blog entry, I was not aware that there were any gothic or early era books about werewolves or mummies. As early as medieval times, we have Bisclavaret, about a nobleman who is betrayed and trapped in his wolf form (which is currently being worked up as a webcomic by Kel McDonald of Sorcery 101 by the way!), and then there are several short stories, one Lot No. 249 by Arthur Conan Doyle, another the Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker, about or related to mummies. There’s also a satirical short by Edgar Allen Poe titled Some Words with a Mummy. Jane Loudon’s The Mummy! also seems to be more humor than horror, but it is also set in the 22nd century, and I think I’m going to have to dig that one out of a library somewhere and add it to the collection in my head.

Of course there are also witches, but I won’t bother to seek examples of these. No one story stands out to my mind, and gothic horror is chock full of characters either dabbling in or mastering the arts of evil magic by various means. (The most common image of “witch” that comes to all of our minds is not in fact from a horror story, but a children’s novel about a young girl and her dog swept up by a tornado and deposited in a fantasy world.)

What is it about these stories that keeps us coming back for more? More movies, more spin-off books, more graphic novels and other media, clever t-shirt designs, costumes and cookie-cutter shapes? Public domain alone is not enough, otherwise there’d be hundreds of other gothic novel adaptations on our shelves.

I have read a few of the books, mainly those associated with vampires (how could I resist?), and other characters of interest (I adore the Phantom musical, which I may write on specifically next week; and Stuart Townsend as Dorian Grey in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen caught my eye), or those I was assigned to read in school. As a reader and a writer, I can’t say that most of them have great writing. Of course, that’s a product of the time. The gothic novel was not the carefully streamlined thriller of today. Many of the stories do not have positive, uplifting endings like much popular fantasy that I personally prefer. But I will say the stories, or rather I think, the idea behind each story, are what continue to intrigue all of us as time wears on.

There are many aspects of each idea that can be interpreted. On the one hand there is the sheer bone-chilling fear of inhuman or half-human creatures that creep up on us in the night and steal not only our lives, but sometimes our souls, or they can manipulate us to their own gain. Often it is not the creatures that are the villain, but those who create them, mad scientists or obsessed Egyptologists seeking to take their ideals far beyond the reach of ethics.

But to me the interest is rooted more in the deeper aspect. These creatures and madmen can be mirrors for ourselves, and not just to see our own evils. More and more the newer interpretations of these characters and archetypes are imbued by the authors with something sympathetic, something that breathes life into them in unexpected ways. We find ourselves watching these old familiar plays and we see the world not from the point of view of the victims, but that of the monster. We almost feel, in some part of our mind that we won’t admit to (most of us), that we want the monster to win.

In Coppola’s ’92 Dracula, our villain regains his youth to become a long-haired prince, longing for his lost love, and finding in Mina her reincarnation, and Mina is more willing to love him, not so hypnotized as in the earlier portrayals. In Mary Reilly we see the personal life and behind-the-scenes setting of the Jekyll household and we hear the seductive, persuasive words of Malkovich’s wonderful portrayal of Hyde. Malkovich and Oldman normally are not of interest to me sexually, but in these roles they stand so close to my Dark Prince archetype, that I feel mesmerized in spite of myself. And even in creatures that remain the unquestionable villains, we see some new aspects. In the ’02 Time Machine, we are introduced to the Ubermorlock, making the previously unapproachable creatures into a less animalistic, more intelligent and far more sinister force.

I believe these modern, empathetic interpretations are an attempt to reach that deeper aspect we sense, and have always sensed, in these ideas. They are a call to the inner Darkness that draws fans of the genre back again and again, hungering for more as a vampire needs blood to feed it body and soul.

 

Note: I haven’t included zombies in this. For one thing the well known parts of the zombie genre are a much later development, centered mostly in movies, I think. Feel free to comment if you have information I didn’t find in my quick search. Lovecraft wrote some zombie tales in the 1920′s. In 1932 there was White Zombie, a silent film with Bela Lugosi. I Am Legend, which inspired three different movies, none of which were about common zombies, was written in 1954. Besides, call me snobbish again, but I don’t feel like zombies hold quite the same place as the other monsters, as they are generally shambling, mindless things. Frighteningly unstoppable, and gruesome in the thought of becoming one, but basically not very deep. I did enjoy Shaun of the Dead tho’, mostly ’cause it makes fun of the genre.

the Unknown Thing

seek and you shall find...within yourself

I know I’m searching for something
Something so undefined
That it can only be seen
By the eyes of the blind
In the middle of the night

–The River of Dreams, Billy Joel

 

Sometimes on the Seeker’s journey through life, we find things that inspire us: practices, books, movies, even individual people, it could be any source. But then after following that practice for a while, or reading the book ten times, etc., that inspiration doesn’t “do it” for us any more. And then we wander off in search of something else. It’s like we’re looking for something in every book, in every movie. We used to find it in the stories we loved as kids, or as teenagers, but then we realized it wasn’t really in that story.

It was something we perceived through the story.

And we are still searching for more of it, hungering every day.

Why do we keep getting answers from the Universe that love and life are not what we imagined they were going to be? And what is that unknown thing that we want if it is not love and life? Is it magic? Is it meaning? Is it happiness? Is it connection to Source? Is it simply excitement? (it seems to me the excitement comes from the finding of it, and is not the thing itself)

These answers, that love doesn’t feel or act like I thought it would, shake my foundations as a romantic. How can I be capable of experiencing through imagination this thing, this feeling that I want, if it doesn’t exist in real life? If what I want can’t be had, doesn’t exist, then what is the point of searching? Or at least if it can’t be had from anything or anyone in the “outside world,” then what is the point of going to the well of all the people and things out there every day and struggling yet again to haul up that bucket, when the ordinary water is not what I want?

And the answer I get from the Universe, from the Goddess and all, is:

“Why do you expect to find this thing outside yourself?”

“Why do you expect someone to hand it to you?”

I think you have to bring it out from the Core of your own being and hold it there in your heart and mind and hands, and then go on and do whatever you want to do in life and love.

You cannot find it in your lover; you cannot find it in other people’s stories; you can’t find it in your work; in your family; in other cities and other countries; it doesn’t live in the wilderness; it is not hidden in the night, and cannot be seen in the brightness of day.

Best you might can do is do work and be in places and around people who help you bring it out from inside yourself. And these people also have similar unknown things, or perhaps it is the same thing, that you also help bring out from within them, and you share your things amongst each other. And that is one kind of love.

And yet when I reign in my urge to wander in meditation or drown myself with other people’s stories, and I sit myself down and work on art and writing, I get into that flow and feel at peace. I feel good and free when I’m sketching and not worrying about the quality of the project or the deadlines or all the other projects I’m signed on for. I feel amazing when I finish a piece and it shines with a life of it’s own. Why, then, do I not throw myself into my work every moment I can? Is it fear that satisfaction is a finite thing, something only to be gotten from just the right project? Well, no, but I will say there are a fair number of projects that have not sparkled as much as I envisioned. This is true of any artist, but perhaps it’s a bad habit of avoiding things that take a lot of effort without an equal return of satisfaction (classic example: sports. Even winning is not satisfying enough for me to justify that level of physical work). Perhaps I am at an in-between stage when some things are so easy that the satisfaction is short lived, while other things are so hard that my expectations of satisfaction are not nearly met.

And still I ask, what exactly is this unknown thing that I feel like my soul is crying out for?

The answers to all these questions are sketchy, vague things:

-I’ll know it when I see it (/feel it/thrum it/etc)

-you cannot find True Love, or a kindred spirit at least, without going to that well of the outside world every day and drawing ordinary water, just to see if you draw up a little gulp from the Tucks’ spring or the River of Dreams

-it’s a transitional stage, the dip in the road of life: I won’t give up but I struggle to move on

the Wrong Time

between comfort zone and True Self

Do you ever have days where it seems the world is telling you, “Everything you do is wrong”?

When on the journey of self discovery there comes a point of turning, of change and upheaval of your life, where everything you’ve always done you find out is wrong. Or rather you find out you’ve been hurting yourself all along by doing things that you believed to be right, or perceived to be necessary, or just plain didn’t consciously realize you were doing.

Many people shy away (or are in truth downright terrified) of this stage. They avoid it at all costs: a lot of people just avoid introspection altogether. But even some spiritually open-minded people find a ritual and stick with it “religiously”, convincing themselves this is the right path, the Way, and everything will be alright if they do this, that and the other, say these words to this God/Goddess/Spirit. But they never expand from there. They want so badly to be right, they refused to admit there’s anything in themselves to be changed. Sometimes they are even looking for a religion or subculture that allows them to “be who they are,” when really what they’ve been doing all their lives is not who they are, is not their True Self.

But if one allows spiritual and personal introspection, if one braves the Desert of Personal Wrongs, one comes to separate “what I do” from “Who I Am.” in the sense that you can take out your habits and lifestyle and look at individual aspects and say “this thing and that are hurting me (making me physically sick, causing pain, causing emotional upset, keeping me from relating to people, upsetting those I love, hampering my love life, telling myself untruths, etc.). You will find all kinds of problems: like looking around what you thought was a spiritually prosperous house, and realizing how much materialistic clutter you’ve spent your time and money on. There will be physical things: finding out that the dressing you use on your super-healthy salads has corn syrup in it, or that your favorite organic food products are chock full of evaporated cane juice (i.e. sugar). And there will be emotional things: the way you get so angry at your mother is not because of what she thinks of you, but simply how you willfully interpret anything she says as criticism rather than help. There are external things: your trusted news source, thought to be wholly unbiased and truthful, you find puts a slanted spin on every popular story and simply doesn’t report any number of other stories. And there will most definitely be deep internal things: sure the princess can’t sit in her tower and wait, that you know, but even if you ride out on your own strong mare, having the Dark Prince come and sweep you up still ain’t easy: you must awaken your passion within yourself before a passionate man will be drawn to you. Everything comes back to You.

Yes, everyone hates being wrong. Always. And change is hard, especially changing aspects of yourself you have held on to for years, maybe all your life.

But you also come to find that the Universe loves you. We’ve been telling you about all these things you’re doing wrong because We Love You, and we do not want to see you hurting.

It’s like cleaning out a cluttered closet. You take everything out, clean it, sort it, throw out broken and expired things. Then you say “What is this closet for?” Is it a kitchen pantry? A linen closet? A place for tools? Cleaning supplies? Craft and sewing supplies? What is its purpose? What can it allow other closets to hold so that it doesn’t have to be so full that you can’t find anything you need in it?

Take out all the aspects of your life, all your habits, daily practices, perceptions of problem situations, traditional or moral values, even deep-seated beliefs. Scrub them down until you remember where you got them. And then decide A) whether they are actually True, here and now, and relevant, and B) whether they fit into your life, whether they are something your own Ideal You would do or believe. WWYTSD? What would your True Self do?

Why I haven’t blogged about True Blood

One Weighted Waitress

Where the women are strong, the men are good looking, and all the children…think vampires are really cool!

I confess I’ve gotten disgusted with all TV series, I think. I get really excited and hooked on the first ten or so episodes. Then the cliff-hanger endings start to annoy, and soap opera relationships kick in along the plot lines, and I start rolling my eyes. I have been watching the first season of True Blood, and whereas I think it’s very well-made, as most HBO shows I’ve seen are, the sex and violence are way over the top. But more importantly, there are too many characters and plot lines for one to get a satisfying piece of the story within one episode, and the characters have begun to do stupid things for, what seems to me, the sole purpose of stretching the plot out longer. For instance: vampire Bill catches Sookie snogging with Sam, gets all jealous and fangy and starts throwing Sam around (luckily he’s a shapeshifter so he can take the beating fairly well), so Sookie gets pissed and rescinds his invitation in her house. All this while she’s still got a serial killer after her, and she could really use all the protection she could get. I can already see the next scene where the killer gets into the house and now Bill can’t come in and help, so Sookie’s on her own.

I am the type to be all for girl-meets-vampire, but I’m also a romantic, and plots along the lines of “will our heroine stick with her blood-sucker or sneak out with the shapeshifter?” scream sell-out to me. Conjecture on who the killer is can only drag out so long (I’ve narrowed it down to two, and I’m leaning towards the “nice” guy), and while I’ve developed interest in Tara and Jason, I know their problems are never going to be resolved as long as the series has to go on.

I had roughly the same response to the Anita Blake novels after a while, which put me off the Sookie Stackhouse books after the first few as I percieved them to be Anita-Blake-in-the-South. The only reason I hung on all the way through the Merry Gentry series is I read somewhere that LKH had a definite ending in mind (an ending which, I will say, surprised me a little and was satisfactory). I guess I’m just a snob about how I want my paranormal romance, or maybe I just have no love for writers who continue to drag their characters through terrible lives for the sake of the next book/season. Why not just start a new series? It has your name on it: your readers will come back to you, whether it’s the same character or not. Or if not, have a trilogy: resolve all the immediate issues; and then go have another trilogy, with almost all new issues!

It’s not that these series are not Dark enough to honor in my blog. On the contrary, I run to such things time and time again, professing that “I just want to see what they did with it,” and I get hooked by the sensual vampire lovers, even long before the heroines fall in love with them. But this is why I storm off in a huff when the girl runs off with some other hottie the minute the vamp does something she doesn’t like. So, true to pattern, I am alternately giddy and disgusted with the artful (and yes, deliciously Dark) rendition of True Blood.

Night Worlds and Words

the fastest transportation between worlds

Some of the best, most original stories I am working on as a writer came from something I dreamed. I call these “story dreams.” For instance: this morning I dreamt of a story about a woman, some kind of shapeshifter, who has a baby who is like a totally new species or hybrid; with human baby proportions, but with kitten fur and face and chocolate eyes. There was a guy who was not the father but the kitten thought he was; he was some kind of criminal, but meeting the shifter and her baby changed all that. But the main thing I dreamt of this morning was myself planning this story. I was at a big loose gathering of people, wandering around with some friends/acquaintances. There were two people, a guy and a girl that picked on me in gradeschool, who suddenly came up to me and were asking after me and my writing, excited about this new story. And another guy, reading my mail for me, announced that a major movie company had loved my story idea, and was giving me the go to make a mini-series. He also said that they’d decided most of the money profited from it would go to me!

I just felt this admiration from my old “enemies” and the support of the company was a really good sign.

I had a friend who described a dream she had that to me was clearly a story; she interpreted it as a bad thing as it was so violent and sad. But I always feel the stories are outside of me, that I’m watching a movie or I’m playacting as a character (sometimes I remember who I am and am just acting, doing what I know they would do; other times I’m within the character’s pov as they go through the events acting naturally). I often know background information or parts of the plot that I haven’t witnessed yet. It’s like when you’re flipping channels and find a movie: you missed the beginning credits but you say “Oh yeah, I remember, this is the one where the guy is a thing and so-and-so does this, that and the other”. Only then I wake up and realize nobody’s made that movie yet (and I better get cracking on it before somebody else picks up on that wavelength).

In my writing I feel like these characters do exist somewhere in another, semi-parallel universe. I feel they are subconsciously reaching out, wanting their story told, wanting to be seen and share their experiences. So writers, in this world and any other, have some kind of mental antenna for picking up these signals. It’s like tuning a radio, though: you never get it to sound like real live music. So the skill in writing is in two parts: extending your antenna to better receive more and more story signals; and learning how to do story structure, pacing, verbal style, how to express who a character is without info dumping too much or leaving too many unexplained blanks for the reader to fill in. In other words, how to translate the raw intuition of a world, characters, and events into something that clearly and entertainingly communicates your vision. And you also have to remember: these are parallel universes: you can change a story even after you’ve written that first draft and still stay true to the essence of the story, because parallel worlds are all slightly different. Respect and honor your characters, they are not your puppets, but don’t sacrifice the quality of the book for the sake of “accuracy” to their original lives.

Back to skill number one, though: working on that antenna! If you want to write (or this goes for artists too!): take notes, notes, notes. Keep a small notepad (or note cards) in your pocket or purse at all times, a notebook in your car (great for hanging out at the coffee shop and brainstorming), take them with you when you travel, have one in every room of your house, and above all, have pen and paper within arm’s reach of your bed (along with a lamp). If you wake up in the wee hours from a strange dream, or even an ordinary one, whether scary or happy, write it down! Not in the morning, NOW. The more you do this the more you will remember your dreams, and the more plot details you will save from your story dreams.

I get story, characters and scenes, as well as moving and surreal visuals. These stories I see are the most original, the most fresh, the most pure. (I also recommend do NOT watch TV or read novels before bed or watch several episodes from one series in a row over several consecutive days; you tend to dream about the show, which is not good for your daily life much less your writing.) Your sleeping mind is sometimes influenced by your daily life, but it’s not as distracted as you are when you’re awake and immediately surrounded by bombarding information. Within the quiet of your resting mind, you process what you know, you draw information from the Universe and the Collective Unconscious, your mind is open ideas that might not occur to you while awake.

If nothing else, story dreams can be a jumping off point, or simply a refreshing exercise before you go back to that grand novel you’ve been working on half your life. Even if you’re not a writer, your dreams are not figments to be brushed off. They are the deeper workings of your mind, paraded out across a stage for you to observe first hand. And when it comes right down to it, only you can interpret them (though archetypes may be similar, everyone’s internal symbols are different). Think about how a symbol, person, or situation in a dream feels before you try to translate your dreams out of a book. And trust the Sandman: put away your dreamcatchers (or put them outside your bedroom, for display), and let him show you what he will. The night is your friend, and the Dreamworld is not to be feared, but to be utilized and explored.

On Different Wavelengths

powers of all frequencies at our fingertips

“Light” and “Dark” are really only relative terms, especially in a scientific sense. Visible light is only a very small portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. Over the years scientists have discovered many phenomena that reside on the same range of wavelengths, many of which the average person now uses every day. Above the visible spectrum, in shorter wavelengths, are ultraviolet, x-rays and radioactive gamma rays. Below, the longer waves, are infrared, microwaves, and radio waves. Even brainwaves and sound are the same type of phenomena on different frequencies.

So why do we use “light” as a symbol of goodness, and “dark” as evil and negativity. In fact, to be completely in the light, with no darkness, would not only be blinding, but would be painful to the eye, probably conditions required for that would be so hot as to burn you to a crisp. We need shadow, we need deeper shades of color, we need blackness, we need ultraviolet and infrared and brainwaves and gamma rays and all the intricacies of our universe, physical and spiritual, in balance and in connection, working together. Nothing in the world is literally black and white, so why should our faith be so over-simplified?

Waves outside the visible spectrum are used for such a variety of purposes. There are countless medical uses from common x-ray imaging to muscle strain and cancer treatments. We explore the vastness of space and the mysteries at the molecular level. They’re used to cook and preserve food, to find weaknesses in our houses and improve them, as protective detection in burglar alarms and police equipment. And new research is being done every day: for instance, scientists are trying to determine how different frequencies affect the way the brain works and possibly improve conditions such as clinical depression, or even more minor conditions like sleep deprivation.

What we commonly think of as “light” is a limited way of thinking. If we used only the visible forms of light scientifically, if those other wavelengths had never been discovered and utilized, we would still be, as it were, in the Dark Ages*. So by limiting one’s spiritual path to what is largely accepted by society or what is demarcated in one particular book or faith, one would not be exploring and expanding one’s knowledge of one’s inner self and the spiritual world. It would hamper one’s ability to reach Harmony with the Universe and achieve actualization of the True Self.

 

*This particular phrase doesn’t fit into my Higher Dark symbolism and Dark metaphor. While I adore medieval fantasy and myth about wizards and knights, the actual time-period was dangerous and uncouth for the most part. But I still like my little joke.