|   anatomy of a room series 

...:: she ain't heavy ::... 

The above quote is from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine's final
episode, What You Leave Behind—one of my all-time favorite
scenes wherein Quark tries to convince Kira that Odo shares
Quark's affection. Altho' Kira remains unconvinced, ST: DS9
devotees know that Quark called it correctly. While Odo would
rather die than admit it, his somewhat reluctant affection for the
incorrigible Ferengi is there to see between the lines. 
   One of the reasons I so love that scene is that it perfectly 
encapsulates the complex dynamics of "family." The ties that bind
are often hidden or disguised, sometimes buried so deeply their
pull can barely be felt...but they are always there. 
   While family—whether surrogate or blood—can strengthen and 
enrich during good times and bad, nothing can cause pain like that
received at the hand of a loved one. I know, for I have dealt more
than my share, and I'd give the world to be able to take it back.
Only a few years ago, I was certain I was the one wronged. Jude,
the martyred. But with time and some painful communication, I 
came to understand...all things happen for a reason. Hurt begets
hurt, whether committed knowingly or not. Its legacy is pain. But 
the cycle can stop, and wounds can heal if one lets the love that
is there shine forth.
   This entry...these thoughts are for a beloved friend. To her I say:
Listen to your heart, love. Let it guide you. Believe me when I say
nothing is unforgivable. No heart is so broken it cannot mend.
Believe in yourself. Believe in her, even when she strikes out at
you or turns away.
   And have faith...given half a chance, love will always find a way.

* * *


family...you gotta love 'em
yes you do
it says so in the manual

image © copyright Teri M.

                                                                      |   mystic exit series 

...:: ahem ::...

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the subject is:

the perils of perfectionism.

I've done some thinking about my recurring dissatisfaction
with aside and have decided I agree with Shakespeare, Updike
and Ruskin. While striving for excellence is commendable and
can be the driving force behind the creation of quintessential
works of art, perfectionism can all too easily become a merciless
demon, ultimately destroying one's ability to enjoy the thrill of
spontaneous and imperfect creation.
   Once the fog of angst parted, I remembered a small, but key
factor: this is a blog...not the Sistine Chapel, nor even a gallery
showing. It is a personal public diary, a record of transitory
insights and emotions, experiences and experiments. If one
cannot be 'imperfect' here, where can they be?
   This is not to say that aside cannot or should not be improved.
It can, and I hope to do so. How? By being more conscientious
and, where possible, more candid in its content.
   So while the quixotic nature of aside will no doubt remain, I do
hope to infuse a greater measure of honesty and thought into
its pages.
   Okay. Enough quasi-transitional copy.
   To show my fondness for each of you, I'll be serving tea and
librium in the sun room to help wash down the entries. You can't
miss me...I'll be the one in the corner, clutching a copy of The
Underachiever's Manifesto to my breast and smiling vacantly at
the spider plants...

ps  Yes, I'm still considering new layouts. When one grabs me
      I may spring it on you.

* * *


water bottle magic