If you ask...

What comes after postmodernism?

You need to go to greater lengths to appreciate postmodernism.

Nothing comes after postmodernism - it's the movement to evoke and destroy all movements.

But why?

Breaking Into Feel-Good Territory

Have you ever held yourself back from feel-good emotions even if you knew they were available to you?

I admit I do this regularly. Why?

The reasons are multi-farious, but here are some: I would stand out from the crowd (but Epiphanie, wouldn't that give you greater confidence to influence people?); I have forgotten that I can feel that free/liberated/happy (how could you let yourself do this? What purpose does it serve?); I am under the impression that stepping into (not out of but into) my comfort zone would unsettle other people, leading to unsettling myself...

I often wonder what would happen if I adopted a more bold approach?

Robyn As A Symbol

I often dream about the disappointed Swedish singer whose voice inspires me so much. She's unnervingly vulnerable, intoxicatingly sad (I try to resist soaking up the melancholy, but how can I when it's so beautifully rendered?) and seeped in multiple and conflicting musical cultures, ideological stances and various levels of personal acceptance. In short, I am intrigued.

I often think that she's my shadow, double or doppelganger - she has the commercial success I simultaneously covet and shy away from. She embodies both presence and absence - yes, she's poised to be a triumphant gatherer and dispersant of culture, but her guardedness (much like that of Lady Gaga) leaves me asking many questions. The walls she erects between herself and her media wooers, ever-conscious of the global gaze, leave her with an intact sense of privacy which is necessary to her well-being (she says she would never want the fame or media scrutiny that surrounds Madonna).

Being commercially successful comes through paying ongoing attention to what your target audience wants. However my target audience changes with each text I create, and I expect them to grow with me, as quickly as I grow by myself. I could never cater to bigots, homophobes, racists and misogynists, but let's face it - they make up a large part of the mainstream.

Sweden has recently been found the most gay-positive nation in Europe, with Belgium, the Netherlands, Spain and Norway following. Russia and Ukraine seemed the most homophobic. I was reminded of a girl in Ukraine who exclaimed 'Yuck' when I mentioned same-sex attraction to Sarah Palin (as opposed to being attracted to Sarah Palin, a figure I am disgusted by and avoid reading about as often as possible). I was in a situation where I was literally surrounded by people who evinced hatred for themselves and for me, and wasn't focusing on her - I had an authority figure to prove something to. Anyway, at the moment I'm feeling unsettled that I let such obvious homophobia faze me... why was I unresponsive? What could I have done? It was directed at me, but not at me. I had the floor - and I chose not to focus on it. I was too overwhelmed by the negative energy I was trying to counter from other sources, and didn't expect such a biting, socially unacceptable comment.

I suppose that regarding something as socially unacceptable isn't helping me - I'm aware that there is hate of all sorts floating around in the minds of the people I encounter everyday. I also know that I do my best to counter homophobic attitudes whenever possible. Perhaps I need to get more actively involved in promoting diversity in sexual orientation. I've been meaning to print A4 posters in favour of gay rights and/or marriage equality. Hmm. How about "Marriage equality - it's your right to live in a world where everyone is equal"?

Last night, I didn't dream of Robyn (or if I did, I don't remember); I dreamt of hurtling up and down coast-side roads - as in a roller-coaster - in Africa. The land was a dry, cream-tinted gold with tufts of grass here and there, a silver-gray ocean as the necessary rebuttal. I woke up, went to the bathroom, fell back into bed. This time I dreamt I was in Iceland - I was embroiled in a subversive operation which included decoys and women wearing white with black accessories. I think this was inspired by Lady Gaga's Bad Romance video to some extent. Lol

If only I had someone halfway likable to talk to these weeks in real life... my net friends are wonderful, but I miss having a friendly face in front of me.

Interesting BBC Article

Creative minds 'mimic schizophrenia'

I prefer the phrase 'simulating schizophrenia' myself. ;o)

Taking a Break...

Dear Readers,

I'm going to take some sort of break from blogging regularly... I can't predict how long it will be, but I feel like I need some space to watch myself grow (and in some cases grow out of certain NLP patterns). I suggest you catch up with me in a month or two!

I appreciate your interest and hope you have a pleasantly intense online experience over the coming weeks!

Thanks for understanding ;o)

A Day In May

I wanted to hold back, I really did... if only I could hold back phrasing my distaste in emphatic terms it would be a sign that I had grown out of the need to reject everything about a person once I ejected them from my circle of friends or life partners. But I couldn't help reverting to the kind of accusing and damning retort that had typified my earlier rejection of her, and it was pointless to try to sugarcoat my anger and disdain this late in the game.

*

I'm not a mellow or easy-going kind of person. Unless you are an acquaintance, for whom I have idealistic hope mingled with resigned disapproval, or someone I'm sometimes friendly with on the odd occasion, in which case I have a cultivate a mellow sort of overview of our relationship which prevents me from investing too much in you, I either love or hate you. With a fiery passion. Sometimes both at the same time. In any case, I have strong reactions to people, and am not for the faint-hearted.

*

My dream trip is slowly being simulated with greater detail and intensity in my mind... The conceptual spaces of the cities I'll be passing through still seem too large for the trail I have placed them on... getting from point A to point I makes every and no sense. Not that I want to prioritise sense, my dear postmodern fans. I'm just borrowing this expression because words are presently failing me.

*

I have decided that my next trip (after this one) is likely to be to Asia again... There are very cheap flights to Kuala Lumpur from Melbourne, Brisbane or Perth, and ridiculously low fares to places such as Penang, Taipei, cities in India (Bangalore, Kochi, Trivandrum), Colombo, Bali and Clark (Philippines). There's something about Asia that is beguiling... it may be a beautiful surface that 'face'd-up faces represent, but below the show for appearances lie beautiful, haunting secrets. Eyes waiting to light up in empathy, respect and jubilation. The legendary openness. I put my defensiveness on hold, and eventually aside. I start beaming at whoever will observe me in the act. I feel like I am standing naked in public, but the vulnerability is protected by the respectful distance of the people on the pavement. Now and then I need to run for cover.

*

I have never stayed in Asia longer than two or three months. I wonder what will happen when I do... It's mostly a matter of money and humidity - but when both are approached with moderation and creative thinking, they seem to fall into place as part of a long-term strategy.

*

As long as there are interesting and inspiring people around, I'm happy. ... Maybe I should give Brian a visit in Myanmar... I love that name (Brian).

*

I have 71 unread Tweets. I have recently noted that I consume more information than I can process to my satisfaction. I'm aware that some people's entire careers consist of being on mental (and hence emotional) overload. Amongst the Tweets I investigated yesterday, I found a competition for which the prize was eight free trips to places around the globe - the winner would blog about them for a general audience, and they could bring a friend. I'm currently plotting to resume reading the details of entering... but I am tempted to finish any one of the four books I am reading "urgently" (The Best of Lonely Planet Travel Writing, Planes, Trains & Elephants, Shantaram and The Trial), or tuck into my shiny new Lonely Planet guides.

*

My mother keeps reminding me to get my act together and contact an agent. Is 'when I come back from Europe' procrastination?

Obscure References Reign

Thailand. It's like I can't live with or without it. Sometimes when I'm there I feel such disdain for the majority of it. I daydream of my soft bed and clean, bright salmon walls. When I come back, I miss the freedom I had there. The freedom to see new things, to always be welcomed, to integrate into the sidewalks with ease, to shine, to marvel, to smile at everyone, to dream.

Can't seem to see the obscurity? Is it really there?
Did I reverse-psych myself?

You'll never know...