death and taxes
dt on 01 Aug 2008
I was so sad to hear today that Sao passed away. I didn't know him personally, but have always been amazed at the artwork he submitted to the IASD PsiberDream galleries. It was the best I'd ever seen, actually, but of course that is just my opinion. It seemed the art didn't rest in one plane, the colors were so vibrant you could almost hear them. So alive. His observations were insightful and I can't remember when he missed a remote viewing target. (I don't know how people do that, but there are a few out there who have a lot of skill.
I was shocked that he'd passed away. It's like a crime that he's gone. Someone like that should be around to remind us how to find the beauty in sight and sound and see clearly.
He was young. I guess I just took it for granted that young, brilliant people wouldn't slip away.
---
I don't feel like sleeping.
rambling...
A few weeks ago, I was going to post about death themes again...I filed it in my Word files because it is always on my mind and over-expressed (obsessive). But this blog is generally an exercise to improve my storytelling skills, so if that's what's on my mind, that's what will be in my journal. I've been dreaming about death lately.
In my dreams, in the past month, I've called 911 twice, and each time I've woken up sicker than a dog. The first time, my inner-ear was messed up and I couldn't even sit up in bed. In the second, I must have had some sort of ulcer attack or gall-bladder and fell to the floor writhing in pain. It's funny that there was no pain in the dream. Neither of these issues are 911 worthy, or life threatening, but the dreams initimated that I was at the edge of life and death.
The last dream was the kookiest. There was the cliff theme again, but this time I was alone in a house in a torrent of rain. The house goes over a cliff and lands in the ocean. At first it drifts along, but eventually flips upside-down. (At this point I think I might not be alive, like the "Pirate's of the Carribean - At World's End" movie -they have to flip the ship to return to the world of the living.) I still scramble about to find different crevices where there could be air. The house then breaks up and the debris collapsing around doesn't hit me. I get away and climb up onto a dock. The problem in the dream after that is to convince others that I'm not dead.
My homework last week was to write an opinion paper on a tax topic in the news, so I picked the only one that was in the local paper that day. My paper was about death taxes.
I read that George Carlin's last album was sort of directed to his own thoughts on aging and demise. I'll have to pick it up. Go with the flow.
My ex-father-in-law died on Easter. My daughter called. There was no one to send condolences to in North Dakota. It is sad, but he is with his Adeline. When she died (it was not so long ago) my ex and my daughter took him up to ND to bury her. He had a stroke more than a decade ago and could not speak, nor stand. He would not leave and fought everyone off, including the police, until he was allowed to stay there in a Nursing Home, close to her. It was also Tyler's birthday. Tyler was born last year, a few days shy of the 10th anniversary of my father's death as well. (I keep telling her that he looks just like my dad.) He does. He doesn't look like anyone else. He has the white-blond hair, blue eyes, facial structure and nose. I send airplanes, because my father's favorite place was in the sky. In my fantasy, he gets to live again. He never failed to enjoy life.
It's all just jumbled together, so many thoughts.
Alana called the other day. she said she'd been speaking to her dad and asked why they hadn't gone to see Irwin, so he reminded her that he wasn't alive. She said she'd forgotten. I sort of understand why a person wouldn't remember. I think of a lot of people who aren't around anymore, remembering them at their best times. Sometimes, I recall with a sudden grief that they aren't around, and then brush it off, and again remember them as they were. They are never really gone in our minds.
---
My ear problem is like all my other problems. My doc says at least half the time for any problem that I'm there for..."It's because you're old." I was thinking the other day that she's been telling me that since I was in my 30's. I'm not "that" old. So I consulted a colleague with the same ear diagnosis. She says "Well, there's these grains of sand in your ear and they slide down into the tube in your ear like an hourglass." I said, "You mean I'm running out of sand?!" And some people standing around piped in "and these are the days of your lives."
According to Wikipedia, Ben Franklin said "nothing is to be certain but death and taxes"
I was shocked that he'd passed away. It's like a crime that he's gone. Someone like that should be around to remind us how to find the beauty in sight and sound and see clearly.
He was young. I guess I just took it for granted that young, brilliant people wouldn't slip away.
---
I don't feel like sleeping.
rambling...
A few weeks ago, I was going to post about death themes again...I filed it in my Word files because it is always on my mind and over-expressed (obsessive). But this blog is generally an exercise to improve my storytelling skills, so if that's what's on my mind, that's what will be in my journal. I've been dreaming about death lately.
In my dreams, in the past month, I've called 911 twice, and each time I've woken up sicker than a dog. The first time, my inner-ear was messed up and I couldn't even sit up in bed. In the second, I must have had some sort of ulcer attack or gall-bladder and fell to the floor writhing in pain. It's funny that there was no pain in the dream. Neither of these issues are 911 worthy, or life threatening, but the dreams initimated that I was at the edge of life and death.
The last dream was the kookiest. There was the cliff theme again, but this time I was alone in a house in a torrent of rain. The house goes over a cliff and lands in the ocean. At first it drifts along, but eventually flips upside-down. (At this point I think I might not be alive, like the "Pirate's of the Carribean - At World's End" movie -they have to flip the ship to return to the world of the living.) I still scramble about to find different crevices where there could be air. The house then breaks up and the debris collapsing around doesn't hit me. I get away and climb up onto a dock. The problem in the dream after that is to convince others that I'm not dead.
My homework last week was to write an opinion paper on a tax topic in the news, so I picked the only one that was in the local paper that day. My paper was about death taxes.
I read that George Carlin's last album was sort of directed to his own thoughts on aging and demise. I'll have to pick it up. Go with the flow.
My ex-father-in-law died on Easter. My daughter called. There was no one to send condolences to in North Dakota. It is sad, but he is with his Adeline. When she died (it was not so long ago) my ex and my daughter took him up to ND to bury her. He had a stroke more than a decade ago and could not speak, nor stand. He would not leave and fought everyone off, including the police, until he was allowed to stay there in a Nursing Home, close to her. It was also Tyler's birthday. Tyler was born last year, a few days shy of the 10th anniversary of my father's death as well. (I keep telling her that he looks just like my dad.) He does. He doesn't look like anyone else. He has the white-blond hair, blue eyes, facial structure and nose. I send airplanes, because my father's favorite place was in the sky. In my fantasy, he gets to live again. He never failed to enjoy life.
It's all just jumbled together, so many thoughts.
Alana called the other day. she said she'd been speaking to her dad and asked why they hadn't gone to see Irwin, so he reminded her that he wasn't alive. She said she'd forgotten. I sort of understand why a person wouldn't remember. I think of a lot of people who aren't around anymore, remembering them at their best times. Sometimes, I recall with a sudden grief that they aren't around, and then brush it off, and again remember them as they were. They are never really gone in our minds.
---
My ear problem is like all my other problems. My doc says at least half the time for any problem that I'm there for..."It's because you're old." I was thinking the other day that she's been telling me that since I was in my 30's. I'm not "that" old. So I consulted a colleague with the same ear diagnosis. She says "Well, there's these grains of sand in your ear and they slide down into the tube in your ear like an hourglass." I said, "You mean I'm running out of sand?!" And some people standing around piped in "and these are the days of your lives."
According to Wikipedia, Ben Franklin said "nothing is to be certain but death and taxes"