(no subject)

[outlier_lynn]

As it has played out to date, my assisting in the Landmark Forum wasn't just the observer role I had thought it would be. Breakdowns and breakthroughs have shown up.

Today I had a very interesting modeling job. One I won't physically recover from until tomorrow, I think. My deltoids are killing me. That isn't what made the job interesting though.

This teacher (a non repentant hippie) has her models introduce themselves on the first break and, if they want, to say a little about why or how they became a model. I took five minutes. I talked about myself as my possibility, shared about full self-expression and barriers we have to realizing it. I did the entwined fingers demonstration calling it the "rightness of habit" game. In five minutes I had a quiet, unresponsive class engaged in discussions of barriers and the value of art to show them to people.

Whee!

Comments

[machineplay.livejournal.com]

The Poem of the Day on MPR made me think of you.

Poems: "He Attempts to Love His Neighbours," by Alden Nowlan, from Selected Poems. © Anansi. Reprinted with permission.

/He Attempts to Love His Neighbours/

My neighbours do not wish to be loved.
They have made it clear that they prefer to go peacefully
about their business and want me to do the same.
This ought not to surprise me as it does;
I ought to know by now that most people have a hundred things
they would rather do than have me love them.

There is television, for instance; the truth is that almost everybody,
given the choice between being loved and watching TV,
would choose the latter. Love interrupts dinner,
interferes with mowing the lawn, washing the car,
or walking the dog. Love is a telephone ringing or a doorbell
waking you moments after you've finally succeeded in getting to sleep.

So we must be careful, those of us who were born with
the wrong number of fingers or the gift
of loving; we must do our best to behave
like normal members of society and not make nuisances
of ourselves; otherwise it could go hard with us.
It is better to bite back your tears, swallow your laughter,
and learn to fake the mildly self-deprecating titter
favoured by the bourgeoisie
than to be left entirely alone, as you will be,
if your disconformity embarrasses
your neighbours; I wish I didn't keep forgetting that.

[rhps-mom.livejournal.com]

that is really awesome... thanks for posting it!