LRL Concepts

I wonder if blogging is more effective when you count it off. Or if I can start this second one without numbers so that it doesn't feel like there's a goal or an end place that I'm trying to reach. Of course there is. There always is when you're trying to express something. But mine is the mind of chaos: not knowing what to do in any specific order. It's pure chaos, that's what it is. Life is chaos, feelings are chaotic, everything tends to chaos. Read it up, I learned that in chemistry, not that I enjoyed my time there too much.

My friend Donna said to me that my writing is crisp. Crisp: what does that mean? Crisp like a leaf of lettuce? Like an ear of corn? Crisp like the morning air? There's a difference between all of these, you know. I'd rather be the morning air than a leaf of lettuce. I guess, just like Simon and Garfunkel would "rather be a forest than a street". But crisp, that word is not haphazardly uttered. It is orderly in its fashion. It has a specific meaning, and shape. Or, at least, it sounds like it should.

I use this chaos, when it gets very intense in my head, I use it. I paste, and pull, and print, and throw it, and then magically something appears right in front of me. It's like the disorder in my life has a specific purpose. A reason to be. So everything happens for a reason, and it happens non-linearly and it makes sense...

How can chaos make sense? In what world does chaos make sense? In our world for sure. But, is this me trying to control everything? Is that the chaos my chemistry teacher talked about? Maybe this is what she wanted me to learn: Everything has an order that is disordered by nature... Or something like that....

Every year, and bear with me here, I make my own costume for Halloween. There's no particular reasoning behind it. I just take things I have around me and put them together, and shape them into something. Out of the mess in my closet I pull a couple of clothing pieces, maybe take some paper and make-up, and turn it into something identifiable.

Last year I was dressed as a sage. The year before I was the love child of V and Zorro. This year I didn't dress as anything. Is that because I didn't have enough chaos around me? or is it because there was so much of it that I couldn't make sense of it? I guess it doesn't matter when you dress up as the love child of two gay super heroes (relax, I know they're not gay, but in my world, that year, I was happy to imagine they were).

And then, if that's the chaos of life, what happens to the chaos of death? There must certainly be chaos in death, too. Bodies rotting; falling apart. That to me spells pure unadulterated chaos. But there's order there, too. When my grandmother died, she shriveled slowly. When I finally saw her, right before her death, she was so old and frail. I thought at that moment that I never wanted to be that old or frail. But, when she finally left, when she finally took her last breath, there was no struggle. There was no disorder, only peace. She died with the same peace that she lived. In that case, the chaos of dying cannot be such a bad thing because it's natural. It happens whether we want it or not. The more we resist disorder, the more it settles in our lives.

Maybe that's why I write, and paint, and dance. To have a place to put the disorder in my life; to have an excuse for it. But disorder requires no excuse. It needs no reason to be, it just is.

Hmmmm.... so that's it then. That's just it... Don't worry, if you didn't understand. If you think I rambled and never made my point you're probably right. After all, that is the nature of chaos.

LRL