I love you;
not the way love is,
but the way love is supposed to be…
– Farah Merhi
For those of you who don’t know, although I find that hard to believe, Dr. Seuss, is the pen-name of Theodor Seuss Geisel. The writer with an uncanny ability to create rhymes.
By the time of his death on September 24, 1991, Ted had written and illustrated 44 children’s books, including such all-time favorites as Green Eggs and Ham, Oh, the Places You’ll Go, Fox in Socks, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Besides the books, his works have provided the source for eleven children’s television specials, a Broadway musical and a feature-length motion picture. His honors included two Academy awards, two Emmy awards, a Peabody award and the Pulitzer Prize.
The Dr. Seuss books have always been favorites of mine. The illustrations are fabulous! I mean really, so simple but so creative at the same time. He created not only unique characters, but a world that surrounded the characters that you can’t help but love.
I am a designer, artist, illustrator, photographer, and writer. That’s a lot, but the truth is it’s one thing, trying to communicate what I see in my head, no matter the medium I choose, I’m trying to convey a message. Being all the things I listed before, I truly admire Dr. Seuss.
The great thing about art, is the that one’s vision can be achieved and become a reality that can be shared, by sheer force of will (nod to The Vampire Diaries writers –Klaus). I’d have to ask Ted himself but I think Dr. Seuss’s vision was achieved and received by all.
I have created and illustrated several children’s books, and from a design perspective, the Dr. Seuss books are really ahead of their time.
The reason why Dr. Seuss came to mind today is simple. One of my all time favorites quotes, actually several of my all time favorite quotes come from the brilliant albeit slightly weird (in the best possible way) mind of Dr. Seuss. I was thinking about it and the best lessons you could possibly ever learn can be found in his words. Simple, straight to the point, and TRUE!
I mean really, how much better can it get? : )
Here are some other quotes from Dr. Seuss… Each has a message, some louder than others, all worth reading, and breathing.
Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.
Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one.
I meant what I said and I said what I meant.
You’re in pretty good shape for the shape you are in.
Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.
Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!
You can get help from teachers, but you are going to have to learn a lot by yourself, sitting alone in a room.
I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells.
Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.
You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You’re on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who’ll decide where to go.
How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?
From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.
A person’s a person, no matter how small.
Fun is good.
Adults are obsolete children.
Theodor Seuss Geisel (March 2, 1904 – September 24, 1991)
Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.
Almost everyone is working towards a goal in their life, and it is an important thing to have ambition and work for that one thing that you want or need to feel satisfied, but what I want to talk about here are the consequences of wanting something.
Sometimes we get so fixated on where we want to be that we forget to notice where we are. We take some things for granted and we don’t appreciate the journey; and yes I know it’s a cliche and everyone knows and goes through this. But what about how it impacts the small things in our lives.
Just because you’re working towards something doesn’t mean that in the time between now and getting that something, you should be miserable and spend all your time wanting.
Time moves so quickly and someday will be here sooner that you think, but if you spend your life waiting for someday then all your life really is; is waiting. You’re always going to want something, you’re never going to not have a goal, and you can’t put life on hold in-between them.
My point is, not every moment needs an “if only” attached to it…
It’s difficult sometimes, not just to be yourself, but to remember who yourself is. Life tries to mess you up, make you forget what you believe in; forget what it is you’re fighting for. When that happens, we stop fighting and get lost in the chaos.
Don’t get me wrong, this is actually when it get’s interesting…
The chaos isn’t always a bad thing, sometimes it takes some chaos to make you find something, and even better realize that it was never lost to begin with.
In the mornings I wake up without a single breath left in me from the night before. The air is cold around me; the room lingers in a warm embrace. I turn to my left and find an empty bed beside mine. She’s never home when I wake up; she’s never home at all. I can’t move when I’m alone. By the time I have the strength to get out of bed it’s never me at all.
I walk to the bathroom and sit on the toilet. I don’t even bother to close the door, no one’s home. I wash my face and brush my teeth just like my mom taught me when I was three. She’s not here either; but that’s my fault. Maybe it’s all my fault. I look in the mirror and notice that her lips are still red from the night before. It makes me wonder what the hell she’s doing. I walk away from her; I don’t want to fight anymore. I go into the bedroom and ruffle through the pile of clothes that now acts as a table. I pick out what she’ll be wearing today and I fix her face with a touch of make-up; enough to hide the dark circles under my own eyes and expose the sparkle inside hers.
I never leave the house until I’ve had at least an hour to just sit and stare at the blank screen of the television. I light up a cigarette and turn to my left and find and empty seat beside mine. She’s never there in the mornings: she’s never there at all.
She’s always on my left side except when I am driving. My lips start to burn, and that’s when I realize that my cigarette has burned out. The lights come through the old curtains and shine a light on what this house used to be. When they were here the air was warm. Now that they are gone their memories keep the house warm, but the air is as cold as ice. Outside nothing is warm, for it seems as though there is no room for me in this place. It is as though I am playing a game of musical chairs with no chairs to begin with. That’s not the worst of it. Every time I play I try to sit down, only to fall flat on my face. That’s why I never leave the house; she does.
She takes the first step out the door. She looks back at me with bittersweet sadness. All we needed was a little more time, time for me to see. She wants me to take those steps with her. Those steps I have been trying to take for a while now. All I can do is look straight back at her and bow down to the floor. She looks at me with eyes filled with disappointment, and there is nothing I can do. She walks out the door, and as she turns away she plasters a smile on her face to go with the sparkle in her eyes. She’s gone; now I am really alone.
She braves the world while I brave my own world. A world I created that is just as torturous as the other. Whose to say which world is real and which is not. I don’t really believe in reality; ultimately everything is relative.
She lives in a place where she does no wrong. She walks on a streak of red paint that is never tarnished by the dirt on her shoes. Others have chosen to place her there, and she has chosen to stay. She’s never seen without a smile on her face; everything is fine. She’s never seen without a skip and hop in her walk; everything is all right. It’s fine that she’s abandoned me and it’s all right that she’s lonely. She lives in a world that makes it fine and say’s it’s all right. She lives in that world, her world, where she is queen, officer, and civilian. It is in this place where anything she does is right, nothing she does is wrong, and everything she does is accepted. In the mornings she takes her car and drives off to college. She never misses a class; she is the perfect student. She walks down many steps to find her seat. Front row; she is the perfect student. She always participates in discussions; she is the perfect student. She understands the material instantly; she is the perfect student. She stays after class; she is the perfect student. In truth, she knows that she is far from perfect. In reality, she knows that she has to be. I’m the only one that knows. She’s afraid and yet she’s never scared.
After class she heads out toward the benches that surround the department, and she’s not alone. She’s never alone, yet she is always lonely. I wonder if she secretly misses me as I openly miss her. She is with her friends that fit her perfect profile. She is at the top of her class; number two and number three will do. Almost instantly they involve themselves in an invigorating discussion regarding what they had just learned; they are perfect. Once the debate has been settled, they hurry of to the studio and start working on projects that they have been assigned; they are perfect. She was born to play that part. As for me, I haven’t found my part yet. I guess I am waiting on someone that just won’t show, not that she’d ever know. She’d never know that I am what she fears to be. I am always scared and I am never afraid.
She calls me on her way back home; I don’t know why. Maybe she thinks that I left, or maybe she’s just lonely. Sometimes I get the sense that she’s afraid she’ll have to die without me; if at any time I find the strength to leave, she’d never find me.
There is a moment everyday before she gets home when I feel as though I might be able to leave. The moment soon passes. It stays true to its nature; it’s fleeting. She is afraid that she will have to die without me. I am scared that I will die without ever being found.
She is home now. She’s left her world behind her while still holding it in her front pocket. I look at her as she sits down beside me. I can see her but she could never see me. I am happy she is home; she’s uncomfortable here. She is afraid of what she cannot see. She is afraid of me; I am scared she’ll always fear me. I am scared that I will die without ever being seen.
When it didn’t used to be so cold, we were constantly fighting; battles maybe even wars. With a bright red cloud that floated above the battleground, we screamed and we cried. The floor trembled under the hooves of approaching troops, and the walls turned their backs to the demise of their quarters. The furniture joined the passing winds in its chilling embrace. It stood in the shadows of many warriors and prayed for the passing of this dark cold day. Nothing was comfortable; neither of us was welcome anywhere on this field of passions and furies. The on looking faces of people and memories stared into the blankness to which they have been chained.
Our house became an abandoned field of dreams, dreams of a better place, and dreams of a home. The battles would last for what felt like an entire lifetime, and then they would slowly pass. Secretly I always wished that they didn’t. Face to face we stood and withstood the test and torment of time; at least we were together. We would reside in this horrible place for what felt like an eternity that was never ending. The place was filled with the nervous silence and loud forces of an epic betrayal. In this place where we stood together, in this place I now stand, alone. I did want to leave, but I did not want it to end. It did end, with me standing at the door and her walking out of it.
I wanted to be heard; I wanted to be found. I could never see her like she wanted to be seen and she could never hear me the way I wanted to be heard.
In the Light of the Luna I took a walk along the streets of Beirut. The city was my companion and its music was my guide. As the music began to play in my ear, I was taken on a journey through Beirut. The music carried my every footstep and guided my every turn. It was as though it transformed into matter as it passed through the fibers in my headset and manifested itself onto the city lights.
Beirut was initially the solo musical project of 23-year-old Santa Fe native Zachary Francis Condon, which later evolved into a band. Their music combines elements of Eastern European, folk, and Western pop music. Though it is not technically related to my city, never have I had a better guide. The sounds of the trumpet accompanied by the guitar, violin, organ, and tambourine, shed a different light on the city that I know. My feet may not be able to take me there, but the music opened the door to a place that is new; a place waiting to be discovered.
This place reminds me of a dream, as soon as the sun comes up it’s gone. You walk through a wall to get here, and once you’re in nothing is the same. Time here works differently than it does elsewhere. Everything happens so quickly yet time passes by so slowly. Your eyes have to adjust to all the light; light that is hidden by the sun during the day, and wrapped in a bubble during the night. Your ears have to adjust to the sound; sound that carries you on your way.
This place reminds me of a dream, so real but such a fantasy. It seems as though I’m floating, watching myself while I pass by. Maybe that’s why it feels like it’s all going by so slowly, yet I knew that it was going on so fast. You can say that I could control what I was seeing, like a camera can see things we usually can’t. I could focus on the movement of light; I could slow it down and speed it on to see the path it takes. Entering this place was like being embraced by a life form of color and warmth, and music was the essence of this transformation.
The toys and games that stood at the entrance made me feel the places surreal nature even more. It was as if these toys existed for the sake of mere existence. Their purpose was to be, and they were.
This place reminds me of a dream, the fantasy, but I know I am not dreaming. The ride was spinning round and round. It traveled so high into the sky, and there was nothing I could do but watch it soar. I could feel like I was seeing every step of its way. The motion that it followed was fast yet I could follow every instance as if my eyes were a stroboscope. I could see the path that light was taking, the path that gave life to this circle of light. I couldn’t wait to be up in the sky, to see the secrets that can be revealed once a new perspective is gained and new eyes are born. Born out of the light and warmth that this place has to offer me; this place that was introduced to me by sounds and embraced me in its music.
This place reminds me of a dream, the time here stops and I’m left moving. I get on the ride, and even as fear constricts my movements the motion around me prevails and is so powerful. I can’t help but embrace this mobility that so amazingly lies within the stillness of light. It’s in fact quite ironic that what is so still can posses an essence so mobile. From the top of the skies I can see it all, I can see as far as light will let me, as far as this place will allow me to experience, as far as the sound waves of Beirut can travel. Up in the skies time is frozen and all I can do is sit in wonder and observe a beauty that was meant to be seen in silence, but that I never would have seen without Beirut’s music.
This place reminds me of a dream, the pIace outside of time and space. I embraced sound all through my experience of this place; it seemed to me that through these wavelengths of sound I could better feel the changes in the pace of time and motion. I know where I am and yet I chose to call this place by no other name, because here I found my self somewhere I have never been before. A place where the city lies below me, where all I can see is all that is there.
This place reminds me of a dream, the place I can return to when I sleep. Leaving is hard, because I am jolted back into a world where time moves constantly and continuously. Leaving here is like waking up from a dream that I never wanted to end.
This place is a dream, this place is light, and this place is sound. A dream you can touch without sleep, a light you can feel without sight, but a sound you can not hear without music…
I wake up in the morning to the sound of car honks.
I go to bed at night to the sound of car alarms.
In simpler times mankind only needed food, water, and shelter to survive. It was only natural that man moved where these needs sufficed him – Nomads; traveling across land and water to find what they needed to survive. Stability did not exist during this time, because in fact nothing was stable but the desire to be stable which drove the nomadic movement from one place to another.
As time moved forward, we built cities and nomads slowly became extinct; or so we thought. We filled the walls of our cities with the means for our needs to come to us. We invented a new way of living, and we created homes. Soon everything one could need was available to him within the walls of these cities. Travel was no longer a necessity for survival, but a means for trade and economy. The economy, a new concept at the time, grew and grew, and before we knew it we had new needs, needs that with depleting resources and the rise of populations became harder and harder to suffice. Today ours needs have grown into a web of complexities that can hardly ever be met. If this is true, then it is no wonder that we are never satisfied, and we’re always running after something; or running from something running after us. The reality that surrounds us is continuously morphing and adapting to our needs, or better yet to what we think we need. Families are broken in half for fathers and mothers that need to find work where they can. The homes that we built are breaking because they cannot survive in the world that we created for them. Stability has become a phenomenon that we only know because it existed once in between where we were and where we are today.
As nomads stability did not exist, and today it does not exist again. One might even say that we are nomads again, but how? How are we nomads if we own property and live in the same country? It’s simple. Nomads had three needs and once they could meet them in one place and sustain them, they were no longer nomads. Today we have a countless number of needs that cannot be found in one place and cannot be sustained. In a sense, we don’t need to be homeless to not have a home. We spend our lives in mixed batter of thoughts and emotions, fueled by desires that are constantly changing and increasing in number. We run after needs that are defined to us by a world that is in itself unstable.
Through all this turmoil, it is humanity itself that has been providing stability. Humanity provides us with connections to people through friendship, love, and family that instills a sense of stability in our unconscious. Humanity enables us to feel a sense of belonging to a certain place or time, we are driven by the need to feed this sense of belonging. Here is where we are lost again. Truth be told, I don’t think any of us feel like we belong, in this world that keeps moving further and further away from what we know. Technology progresses towards creating new means of survival as the world around us changes. These new means are created in the light of a world that in itself is unfamiliar to us.
We are pursuing humanity, but the world that we have created is destroying it. Traditions that have been passed from generation to generation are now considered obsolete. Values that were once considered sacred are becoming old men’s tales that we only here about and roll our eyes to. We shape our minds and our bodies to fit into this world based on greed and progress; but progress towards what? Towards an existence in the shadows of tall buildings filled with corporate machines, and a world that punishes “good old-fashioned values”.
I wish I had my grandfather’s conviction and belief in family and honor. I wish I could have met a chivalrous man and asked him what he thought the world should be. In truth I wish we could have gotten this far without forgetting what got us here, without forgetting the very core of what makes us human.
I am only 25 years old, and I look today at a world where childhood no longer exists. Instead of cherishing a child’s innocence, this world beats it out of them before its time. Childhood has become a lost concept, and with it all the innocence in the world is at risk.
My father once told me that if I were to marry, I should marry a man of principle. I cherish these words, and I live my life to the sound of his voice. Not only to marry a man of principle, but to be a woman of principle. I carry my principles with me at all times, and live by them.
I believe family is a bond that is created and only strengthened by blood.
I believe that every individual should be respected and honored.
I believe that children should play, and adults should worry.
I believe that we have basic human rights, but everything else we have we must earn and fight for to sustain.
I believe in honesty, because everything else fades.
I carry my beliefs with me, they are the principles that engraved in my mind and heart, make me the person I am today. Still I do not claim to know any truths, and I do not claim that it is always easy to stand by my principles in today’s world. Today stability is an illusion that we hold on to with possessions and money, as for a few of us, we carry what’s left, or what we still remember, of real stability in our hearts.
I only know two things for sure.
When I wake up in the morning I will hear cars honking, and when I go to bed at night I will hear car alarms firing. These two truths are stable in my life. The rest, I have not found yet.
I am a Nomad.
I may have changed for you; but I will not be changed by you. Choice is the only divine quality that we possess. It was my choice to love you; at first. Then love took it from there. Now I find myself standing back at the beginning, Looking out into the light that is fading, Looking in until I see what I could not. Now I know that the right choice was clear all along, but love wanted it to be wrong.
I may have changed for you; but I won’t be changed by you.
an empty room sets the stage. a hollow silence sets the mood. an explosion scatters the pieces of sharp glass. they’re all hurt, and all I can do is run to help them all. they are the loves of my life and in the rush of adrenaline all i know to do is to save them… and I do…
moments pass and I see her standing down the hallway. I am surprised to see her because she has been gone for so long. she signals to me with her hands, asking me to join her. only then do I realize that in rushing to help everyone else I couldn’t save myself…