Passion

Recently I read a friend's blog where he mentioned having passion for something - (as I have not had time to figure out how to add a link), I will simply copy it here:

"So many people I know tell me that they are so jealous of musicians and artists. Their self proclaimed jealousy comes
from not being able to express themselves in artistic ways I am told. Frankly, I often wonder if they just mean they wish
they had passion for something. When you are passionate about things, your realize sometimes that lots of the world is
not passionate about anything."

Oddly, twice in the last couple of weeks, I have had to sum up my own behavior - explain myself really - and both times I could think of no better way to describe it than to use the word 'passionate.' I found it interesting that the idea of passion cropped up for each of us but in utterly independent ways. He speaks to the universal human condition of creativity..in his case making music. This creative drive or passion could also be described as feeling something in you so strongly that you must express it in some way...again I immediately think of art, music or writing. (As so many of my friends and acquaintances are artists, muscians and writers.)

But in the instances in which I was speaking to my own behavior, I was actually defending or rather describing by way of explanation my "passionate" outpouring on politics. And in formulating this explanation, I realized that I AM a passionate person....not just about the things in which I am interested (although certainly those take precedence....) but in all aspects of life. I am passionate about art, history and visual culture. I seek it out and get lost in it. I am sexually passionate, experimental and energetic. I am passionate in my friendships and in my loyalties, fiercely passionate in fact - and I am passionate in my viewpoint, in my formed opinions. Which brings me to my point...this energy (passion) that I bring to the table in almost all things I have found is something that frightens people. Or rather cautions them to me. So where Nels observed that people lack but wish for passion....I wonder if passion is something most people actually fear.

I do not consider myself radical, but I can be emphatic in my expression. I have found very few people willing to challenge me - or enter into passionate discussion with me. I often wonder after a conversational encounter shuts down if I had toned it down a bit, would the conversation have gone further? Or did I simply wear them out? My enthusiasm for debate can be boundless. Unfortunately, it is rare that I don't feel like I've browbeaten someone (particularly when discussing politics). And I think maybe (if I want to continue to persue intelligent conversation with others) I should modify my approach - dilute it - tone it down, whatever.

And then, I think back to Nels' comments - and I get angry. Why aren't more people passionate in all things? Why do we shy away from exuberant expression and over-the-top enthusiasm? Why do we assume that only artists and muscians can be passionate about something? Why, when challenged, do we not challenge back? Are people really that afraid of their own opinions and convictions? Is a good debate really that exhausting? Or have the far ends of the spectrum become so frighteningly radical, that any show of passion lumps us into the bible-thumping, suicide bombing, abortion-doctor slaying categories that scream their convictions the loudest, but speak for the fewest?

It makes me sad that the moderates and the liberals have become so soft-spoken. It makes me sad that intelligent men and women threw away their votes because they weren't confident enough in the alternative. It makes me sad that we quietly complain amongst ourselves, but that no one seems willing to stand up and say that our country and our government are being run into the ground by a narciscisstic, spoiled, vile, megalomaniac who jeopardizes our freedom and our liberty at every turn. It disgusts me that our so-called democratic system has withered to people blindly voting the party line in an us- versus-them mentality because they are too lazy to face the truth or consider that the alternative may be better, (even if it comes under a different label.) And it makes me sad that we shy away from passion and intensity because we so often see it only in it's radical form....so we do not stop to differentiate passion that is tempered with intelligence.

It was suggested to me this evening that I should run a political campaign..(following a discussion about how Kerry's political team dropped the ball and my opinion that Kerry needed to step up, fire both barrels, call Bush and idiot and explain just how he'd get the job done better.) Truthfully, it was just nice to have a conversation with someone else who shared my opinion and frankly I think I lack the political savvy. But it made me wonder...what good is a passionate conviction if you do nothing with it? Is having and expressing passion a worthless endeavor if it is wasted on frivolous pursuits? Perhaps my frustration stems from not having a focused outlet for my passionate energies....like art or music....more likely it is that I have found very few people who match my intensity.....I think I will ponder this further.....

Pink Petunias

In the town where I teach, the main east-west thoroughfare and the main north-south thoroughfare are lined with big, bright pink petunias. Hand painted signs designate these highways as "Petunia Boulevard." There is no grass between the sidwalk and the street along these roads as the petunias have taken it's place. The petunias grow without pause for easily two-three miles in every direction. And these are really big, lush beds of petunias. Oddly enough, the rest of the town is rather non-descript. There is no great architecture, or beautiful park space. Just these miles of petunias. And where driving through the town makes me feel like I have happened upon Nowhere, USA, seeing the petunias, always makes me pause and smile.

I don't know who plants the petunias every spring. This summer, I did see a large water truck with a girl perched on the back directing a shower like hose at the petunias as they drove slowly up and down each side of the two main streets. Despite the drought here, those showers did the trick as the petunias are blooming still. I wonder also whose idea it was to plant the petunias in the first place. Who approved the money to buy the petunias every year? There must be thousands of them. Why pink? It strikes me as funny also that there is little other color anywhere in the town. All dust-covered green trees and gray concrete. Even the river is a muddy brown-gray. And in the midst of it all - rows and miles of bright pink petunias. I don't think I have a point to make here...just conveying this little oddity that is a part of my day.

Eavesdropping Grasshopper

One day last week, I was calling in sick to work - downright exhaustion sucks...but I digress....as I sat on the bed troubleshooting for my boss so I could successfully miss the day, I was no longer able to stay upright. Flopping backwards into recline, I had a lovely view of my ceiling. And quietly sticking to my ceiling was a long, grass-green, leafy looking grasshopper. Not the yellowy, crunchy looking kind of grasshopper, but one that actually looked like a blade of grass - all long and leafy with sinewy, spiky legs, just hangin out on my ceiling, quietly listening to my conversation. Don't know where it came from, don't know where it went...I wonder how much it heard....

Hiatus

So, I've been gone for a bit - vacation with no computer access, then entertaining international friends. Then really work and being out of the habit of writing down what I see and hear. I have a long list of stuff to relate however, kind of squirreling around in my head. I suppose this means there will be a flurry of posting on my blog for the next few days. We'll see...

I have to get back into the groove of putting it all out there...like laughing out loud, actually guffawing at the movie Monster-In-Law at 2 in the morning the other night. Damn that movie tickled me. (My mother-in-law is wonderful by the way, but the movie just made me laugh and laugh.) Rather obvious play on stereotypes, but funny anyway...

Or like meeting Mia Hamm Garciaparra last Monday night. She came to the book sale I was helping with. Signed a few copies. Very nice, very reserved. I've met several of the Cub's wives over the last few months with this promo thing I'm doing, but none famous in their own right. It's been an interesting trip watching the reaction to sports celebrity...people are nutso and eager and respectful all at the same time. It's the strangest phenomenon....

Or like seeing a man in a gorilla suit riding the skyglide at the State Fair. So out of place and funny. Or the Find-Out-If-You-ARe-Goin-To-Heaven-In-Three-Questions booth - not kidding. There was also a booth where you could get a turkey leg (a whole turkey leg) - people walkin around like cavemen, knawing on a big 'ol leg of bird. It's funny what you see at a place like the Fair where anything is possible (acceptable) and therefore, anything and everything shows up...I won my class though, took home a silver goblet....

Anyway, that's a snippet of life for the last couple of weeks. Plenty more, but I'll save it for another time.