Monthly Archives: October 2007

i have been lacking in teh funny…

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…fwiw, largely because i have not been lacking in the business. my apologies to the five or six of you who check in here regularly to see what i’m not doing and how funny i am not being.

parts of what is eating my time and/or my mental energy is minimally alluded to here and certainly consumed here (because “here” is not just “there”, but it’s also my presence on two other websites), while also trying to get my fall wedding shoot finished up and out for proof. wheee!

i’ll try to get back to teh funny as soon as i can. i also turn 41 this week. commander other is not getting any younger. dammit.

aura

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Aura © 2004, 2005 Dawnne Gee

I took the base photograph to this early the morning of October 31, 2004: our first Halloween out here. While I did later edit this quite a bit, the orange glow in the background was fairly natural. There had been a heavy fog that night, which froze, and as the sun started coming up and the rime started subliming, there was a cold, heavy mist in the air. As my first time in such weather, even in my late thirties, I found it incredible. I’m sure a couple of my neighbors thought I must be crazy to be out in the cold air, photographing frozen weeds, but oh well.

I’m using this to also show you a new plugin I found. I’m also using over on synthaetica.com for the fine art galleries. There are several others out there like it, but the code for this one is phenomenally brief and loads with almost no lag. It’s called Shutter Reloaded, and the cool thing is that it should be overriding even the old image links that popped the old shadowmoon image preview utility.

{of course, now i’m experiencing something with this plugin that didn’t happen at synthaetica.com. click into this post so that it sits alone on a page, and the plugin is working just fine. unfortunately, with the post just being read from the home page, it’s not working right. bah. i suppose it’s not that big of a deal right now, though, and i have other things to work on.}

By request

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after i posted that last bit of ancient hieroglyphics, a friend wondered if i had more published elsewhere. i did self-publish a collection of 333 poems back in 1993 (yes, 333, because i’m only half evil, and because that number was exactly 1/3 of what i started with). i haven’t made an assessment in these later days as to my editing skills at the time, but theoretically, the sabre, as i titled that collection, represented what i felt were my “best” works. and occasionally, when i read back through them, i am not displeased. although quite often, i am so far removed now from those sentiments and the emotions which brought them into being, that it seems like i’m reading the works of someone else. especially the really long ones.

anyway, i’m contemplating making this a weekly “feature”, but i want to keep it relevant to current events, if at all possible. so, to kick off your monday’s “fix of dawnne”, here is something i wrote on my birthday 1990 while in Saudi Arabia during Operation Desert Shield.

windless

The wind shuffles its feet like an old man waiting to die,
. . . and in the passing of an hour,
I came to know the emptiness of that moment.
And still, only one thing remains truly clear:
I shall remember you . . .
. . . and your memory shall light my way
like the peace of the forgetfulness of slumber.
And now the wind lies on its back like a young man already dead,
. . . and like I never thought it could,
it burns me with a coldness that leaves me void of words.
So, I say this one thing with all the fear that I have:
“Goodbye.” —
for I know not what, in truth, it means,
or what it promises . . .
. . . to then become.

~ near An’-Nu’Ayriyah, Saudi Arabia, November 2, 1990
Copyright © 1990, 1993

i haven’t done this in a while….

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i have no doubt that at least a few of you will get where this came from long before you get to the end of it. it’s really kind of odd to look back on the things i wrote ‘so long’ ago. i had a tendency in my writings back then to waver between the literal and the surreal. and i pretty much steadfastly refused back then to say anything straightforward.

~~~~~~~

Into the face of a thousand endless screamings . . . .
(Like never before this silence had a name),
for all in its own self-righteousness
seems as if in silence only breaks the spell —
imprisoned by the words this hunger imparts . . .
and like forever, dawning on a sea of rust,
it is shaped by naught but silence
(the silence of a dream),

and then it dawns with a light brighter than solace —
shining through a glistening veil
of the tears the maiden sheds alone . . .
(and her daughter suckling at her breast
was once more to me than any view of heaven
could ever hope to dare become),

and the child knows nothing of it —
at least, so I pray.

Into the face of a presence that once I let surround me,
and out of a darkness I have yet to comprehend . . . .
And yet to be forced to live with the gnawing realization
that everything I have loved so well, I must do without . . . .

It is a different lifetime
(but one that must certainly be lived with understanding),
and the hope to live but once again without the fear.

Again, like diamonds glitter and the killing of a dream —
a forfeit of tomorrow and the wonder of eternity —
and it screams before this effervescent window,
and softly, it turns about itself,
waving as it drifts towards the door —
(a holiness that comprehends no indecision),
and like the calm before the storm,
it is the passion of eternity and the silent world below.

~“Into the face of the nemesis”, October 23, 1989

Tuesday’s Child is Full of Grace

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i hadn’t intended on writing this morning, actually. in fact, i had made a pact with myself last night to be even more diligent in regards to client services and to spend more time treating my clients right, then right off the bat, i discovered i was out of space on my Epson P-5000 [eek! product plug!], which i use as the primary backup device for my shoots, and it was time for me to archive it. which essentially means i’ll have two drives tied up for the better part of two hours, and unfortunately, doing any heavy processor work on images during the transfer runs the risk of screwing up the files that are being copied and the files that are being worked on. so, i’m switching my workflow around a little bit today and blogging while doing the boring stuff, instead of getting into the photo processing first.

But back to the title. that old Mother Goose rhyme always wigged me out as a kid, because i don’t think it’s really indicative of any personal condition of anyone in particular. to refresh your memories, here’s the whole thing:

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go.
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath Day,
Is fair and wise and good and gay.”

so, let’s see how much that fits the people i know:

heck, let’s start with me. i was born on a Wednesday. damn, that’s not a good way to start. is it accuracy or coincidence? probably the latter. but, i’m not always woeful, and in fact, i’m not even usually woeful. aren’t we all prone to woefulness from time to time? but, i’ll grant that i wasn’t a very happy child, or at least i don’t remember being happy all that much. so, i’d give it about a 7 on an accuracy scale of 1 to 10.

the Spouse Unit was born on a Friday.  well, now, wait a minute. with very few exceptions, “loving and giving” fits virtually any mother, so that’s not fair! and of course, i didn’t really know her as a child, but i’ll bet she was loving and giving even “way back then” (sorry, dear). okay, another seemingly accurate assessment, at least from this (mandatorily) biased perspective. i’ll rate that a 9, with one point off just because i feel peevish, and she does get mad at me sometimes.

yeah, right. ‘sometimes’.

#1 Son was born on a Tuesday. of which kind of ‘grace’ is he supposed to be full?  if it’s the Christian kind, then the poem is well off the mark, since he’s not even baptized. if it’s the kind of grace that comes with dexterity, he’s getting there, but as he begins adolescence, it’s a sketchy thing. besides, once he gets there, that’d make him a “Tuesday’s adult”, not a “Tuesday’s child”. hrm, i suppose that’s just picking nits, though. assuming it’s the latter definition of ‘grace’, i’ll give it a 6.

#1 Daughter was born on a Saturday. work hard? well, i certainly have to work hard to get her out of bed each morning. and to keep her on task. and to get her to do her chores. or do anything else that requires, oh, i dunno, energy, thought, foresight, or planning. the little darling can spend ten minutes alone in the bathroom after breakfast and come out still without having brushed her teeth or her hair. i mean, if you look at it in the light of working hard to avoid responsibility, then sure, she works her ass off every day. bah. i’d give this one a 4, and that’s being generous.

sure, that’s a small sampling, but overall, not terribly accurate. which begs the question, why do such predictive practices creep up in various cultures across the world? and more to the point, are all republican politicians all born on Sunday?

ooops, i guess that’s the wrong definition of ‘gay’. my bad.

you knew i was going to do that, so hush.

and yes, i know there are deeper meaning attributed to those appellations which i am blatantly ignoring. i’d hate to be terribly serious so early in the morning.

hey, that rhymed. woe is me, indeed.

The more things change…

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…the more changed by them I become. Or more properly, the more a certain level abstraction becomes more prevalent in my life.

The Elder and Unknown is no longer Unknown to me. “Elder and Unknown” was always a bit of a misnomer anyway, because I have been very aware of who she was and how she’s been doing, through her contact with my mother, and over the past year, with the Spouse Unit and even #1 Son. But, she contacted me directly yesterday, and so now I need to think of another way to refer to her without saying her name.

{I can’t refer to her as the Prodigal Daughter (although it oddly came to mind), because I don’t like the biblical reference, and it would be a misattribution because she never left me (it was the other way around). Other appellations that immediately came to mind are identifiable as unkind towards her mother, and while the typical male tendency to think of things that way is irrefutable, I don’t actually harbor such ill will.

Then of course, I went and called the two kids I’ve had the honor of raising “#1 Son” and “#1 Daughter”. I realized even back then that this would create some confusion later on when “she” finally contacted me, but those appellations are very much correct. For all the obvious reasons, they do and must come first in my life. Not only do I owe them that, but somewhat ironically, i owe “her” and her brother that as well. So….what to do. Ah…

“Daughter Prime”…no, that sounds like something out of Star Trek. “Elder and…” No, let’s drop the “elder” thing. I read that in older writings (and, uh, yes I do that sometimes) and I sometimes feel like I’m writing about my grandmother or an aunt. “Daughter The First”. There we go. #1 Daughter gets to keep her functional ranking, and “she” gets to keep her order of precedence.}

Anyway, my first contact with Daughter the First was relatively brief. Of course, when I responded, I couldn’t resist saying more than was strictly necessary. Gawd, I hate my lack of self-control in that regard. Ann has been letting me read some of her emails her over her shoulder, but there was something very special about that email being written directly to me that I cannot really describe. Of course, given the distance, it’s not “She’s here now!”, but it’s something very similar, and I’m not sure I have the words for it. Her conversations with the Spouse Unit and Mom have always been polite and often quite entertaining, and through those messages, I have seen glimpses of a young lady who is going to make a phenomenal adult. To have that engaging personality…that intelligence…that level of insight…that will…turned towards me was wonderfully intriguing, and I’ll admit: even a bit intimidating. She was very forthright with me in telling me that she’s never regretted her childhood and is proud of what it has helped form within her, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to ignore the facts that I wanted it to be different—so very different—and that I only left when it became obvious that such options were not going to be afforded me in a respectable way.

There were seven or eight times over the past decade-plus when I sat down and tried to compose what I thought should be my first words to her. I have kept most of them over the years, but one I wrote back in February, I may actually share with her. The rest, especially the oldest ones, were still too caught up in the typical acrimony that comes from a relatively biased reminiscence and the added angst of self-denial that comes from attempting to keep it all “objective”. The fact that I entirely changed my life for her and her brother, and ultimately for no functional recompense, doesn’t mean it should all be dumped on the shoulders of an eighteen-year-old young woman who has had enough troubles of her own.

Yesterday was a mixture of many emotions, many of them being inherently conflictive. By the end of the afternoon, I was elatedly melancholy: Elated because I had finally, after “all this time” (which ultimately isn’t very long at all, but still which constitutes just slightly less than half my life) been afforded the opportunity to speak directly with my daughter, and melancholy because I still haven’t heard her voice, and because it will be quite some time before I can finally see her and truly get to know her as the person she is becoming.

But it was certainly a good beginning, and I need to quit thinking too much.

if…

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…you know her name, I cannot keep you from reading it, although it is obviously intended for her and not you, but i mention it because i know some of you are incessantly curious, and one of you could infer from this post a desire that you share the permalink with her.

for those of you wondering, no, she didn’t, and i in no way expected her to, and the admitted anticipation of it will simply remain until it happens, after which, a part of me will no doubt miss the anticipation, of course. so much of my life has been spent waiting and hoping, i never really know what to do with fulfillment anyway.

you can shut the hell up with your double-entendres by the way.

my love to you all. the world revolves. carry on.

ponder the categories, and this will make more sense.

if you use the word disappointed, i’ll slap you. i’m not disappointed, and no, i do not protest too much. in fact, i’m quite pleased that she apparently had better things to do (as i hoped for her on the 15th as a matter of fact), and that if she is considering making contact with me, that she is doing so at a measured gait.

~d~

Protected: For my daughter

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Selanie:

I have struggled for many months, if not a year or more, to compose the first words that I would write to you, and as your birthday approaches (it is September 25, 2007 as I draft this), I have conceded that instead of something more profound or insightful, my first words to you will be “I have struggled for many months….” You will learn soon enough that I think way too much about things, and if that is the only thing I do that disappoints you, then I will consider myself well blessed. Conversely, if you choose to look at it this way, my first word to you was “Selanie”, the name I chose for you over eighteen years ago, and a name I have kept within my heart ever since.

I wax nostalgic fairly easily, by the way. There’s much in my life I could wish I had done differently, or more responsibly, but while I have regretted not being able to be with you and know you all these years, I have never regretted you. I knew before you were born that you would be something far beyond anything I could ever hope or expect, just as I knew that at the time, with the history that lay between your mother and I, that I would not be who she needed me to be for quite some time to come, if ever. That’s a very, very long story from my perspective that perhaps we can address at a later time. Understand for now, that despite everything I did and that was done to me, I hold your mother in an objective sense of admiration that is actually devoid of any acrimony.

I know that Ann has already told you that you have been a part of our lives since she and I first met, and that Kyrian and Brynne think about you quite a lot. I cannot number the occasions I’ve asked one or the other what they were thinking and the response has been something like “I’m just wondering what Selanie is doing right now.” You’ve never been with us, Selanie, but you’ve never been gone, either. Not a day has passed in my own life when I have not experienced a momentary silence spent in the singular thought of you.

Enough. I’m going to do one thing with this writing that is a bit different from my norm, and that is to not ramble on. I am naturally inclined to give you more information about me and us than you want in far more space than is strictly necessary, so I’ll spare you that. What I will say is that while there are obviously some bad feelings between your mother and myself, my honest desire is that those emotions can be responsibly set aside by both of us so that we, in our disassociation, can at least attempt to be who and what you need us to be for you.

And do know that while you and I may disagree on certain life philosophies, I admire you greatly. You have upheld your faith, your dignity, and your identity through many years of stress and misunderstanding, and whatever more you experience in life, you should always be proud of the fact that you were the most responsible for the person you are becoming. And for what it’s worth, that is something we have in common.

Selanie, I have no expectations of you, only love. I do not expect you to ever view your past from my perspective, nor come to believe in the things I know to be true, nor do I expect you to even want to meet us or visit with us. But you should know that our home is open to you, and there is much opportunity here in your chosen field should you ever elect to give it a chance. And like our love for you, that offer shall always stand.

And you should know that ever since I last saw you, sleeping in your swinging chair when you were just a bit over two months old, I have missed you dearly.

I hope you had a happy birthday, Selanie, and I hope that in the days to come, whenever you’re ready, you’ll make some time for us to talk. Email is always an option, and so is 605.214.1033 or 605.301.4071.

Peace to you.

~Dawnne

and then, all of a sudden, it’s “tomorrow”

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I have several important things to do today, but when I woke up this morning and realized it’s the fifteenth of October, my stomach lurched a bit. That was a surprisingly fast eighteen days since I last noted the date on the calendar in relation to tomorrow’s date and the importance of it, so here I am the day before the Elder and Unknown’s eighteenth birthday and I am, in several ways, unprepared for it. The story of my life, I suppose. I have this wondrous capacity for being able to WAY overthink a situation for days, weeks, months or years on end, only to be frightfully unprepared for it when it finally happens.

Except I’m really not unprepared. I just wish I could legitimately spend the day in some level of focused concentration on it. I’ll have to put that off until tonight, though. Today, I have to straighten out an issue with my driver’s license (referred to in the previous post) and I have a doctor’s appointment early this afternoon to see if we can figure out what is going on with this insidiously pervasive tinnitus in my right ear that I can’t seem to get rid of. I would say something vapid like, “It’s driving me crazy,” but we all know that is a) a rather short drive, and b) redundant, because I’m already there. Atop that, I have a wedding to finish up, now that I have the computers and processing space back in working order so that my workflow is back on track. #1 Son and I are both supposed to referee tonight, but the seemingly incessant rain down here (most of which I missed while up in Aberdeen) will likely have the fields so soggy as to be unplayable. I have to admit that with the High School season being over, I’m about two shakes from being ready for the rec league schedule to be over as well. I very much enjoy refereeing the younger kids, but I’m tired.

Wow, how was that for a long-ass paragraph with virtually no cohesion? Sorry, Bing. I was well educated, but I get lazy.

So, tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday. A funny thing: I honestly cannot remember what I did to celebrate my eighteenth birthday, and at the time, in Texas, that was full, legal adulthood like 21 is now. But I really don’t remember doing anything special. I hope the Elder and Unknown gets to do something special and memorable on her eighteenth birthday, and I hope it’s basically meaningful for her. But I could say a hundred million other things like that, and they would be basically as personally frustrating for me. For in truth, all I really want is to be able to let her know, personally, how much she will always be such a fundamental part of me.

But, I will wait. I’ve waited this long, after all. So, what, really is the difference?

She begins her nineteenth year tomorrow, and nineteen is the number of the Sun. I wonder what her radiant light shall be, and what she shall become. Whatever the answers to those questions, I hope she knows that she is loved beyond imagining, and not just by the ones whom she currently knows.

Sometimes it works like this

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sorry, kids. i’m ‘way up north’ in Aberdeen, SD for the state high school tournament. i meant to be posting each night while i’m here, but last night turned into a long evening of discussions on all the politics and other things that infest any such organization, so not only did i not get to post last night, but i didn’t even get to catch up on my favorite blogs! my life feels so incomplete

the tournament, if you care, is going well thus far. it actually starts today, but yesterday there were several “play-in” games: last chances for teams tied on points to get into the tournament. sadly, some boys and girls will be back in school on friday despite their best efforts.

anyway, i’ll post some things tonight and get back on the ball here, so to speak. sorry to leave you hanging. i’m sure your lives are nearly as incomplete without me as mine is without you. or, not.