The world in a word
Jun. 23rd, 2009 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pjthompsonReply to this meme by yelling "Words!" and I will give you five words that remind me of you. Then post them in your LJ and explain what they mean to you.
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kmkibble75 gave me my words: music, los angeles, rebirth, mythology, quotes.
Music
I loves it, adores it so much I can't write when music is playing. I get too distracted, get into the music rather than what I'm trying to say. It doesn't help with the mood of what I'm writing, it takes over. So I'm always a bit envious of people who can write with music playing. I like all kinds, the more varied the better. The only types I can truly say I don't like are diva music (i.e., Celine Dion, Mariah Carey and their ilk), high production country (i.e., Garth Brooksian), and rap (yeah, I'm hopelessly old). Anything else is good: opera, hip hop, techno, oldies, folk, world music, bluegrass—even polka. Which is why when people ask me what my favorite music is, or my favorite group or song, I throw my hands up in frustration. I don't know. Or, rather, the answer changes endlessly. My iTunes library is a crazy place and I like to keep it on random so it surprises me. (Only, it seems to have a clear-cut preference these days for Leonard Cohen, Pink Martini, and Albert Ammons. It's amazing how it goes in streaks. For awhile it was the Wallflowers, Feist, and Bright Eyes. Dig that crazy logarithm.)
Los Angeles
I am a native Angeleno, which may account for my fascination with angels. Or not. Dirty angels, funky angels, noirish angels. I once wrote about this town: "L.A…. is demented, cynical, and heartbreaking, but also a place where individuality flourishes; it is hallucinatory and real; erotic and kinky, but with a deep and struggling romanticism buried beneath the wreckage…" I still think that's true. It's not the place you imagine you know from the cynical TV shows and movies you've seen, from any three hour tour, from bloated Beverly Hills gleanings (the tip of L.A.'s iceberg), the glistening beach, the snooty East Coast put-downs, or San Franciscan nose-turnings. L.A. is a crazy rhythm, an urban tattoo, a patchwork of communities, all with their own strengths and weaknesses. Not a melting pot—no, never that. Multiculturalism is an ideal, but rarely accomplished in this world, L.A. or outside of L.A. Still, we're all rattling around here together between the 405 and the San Bo and the I-10, influencing each other even when we don't mean to. Occasionally, we have a riot to clear the air, let the complacent Westsiders know that L.A. really, truly has a fractured heart that's sometimes held together only with sweat and grit. A dissonant merging of cultures and ideas, yeah. Wonderful flavors—Persian, Mexican, Thai, more—and sounds—tabla, mariachi, boom box, more—and spices—tamarind, curry, berbere, miso, more and more and more. There's always room for more. A cold town—except when it's muy caliente. Dirty, noisy, crowded, sprawling beyond our fingers' untenable grasp: agreed. But it's my town. And I love it.
Rebirth
Two-thirds of me believes in it, but as with so many other mystical concepts, a part of me remains skeptical. I want to believe in second chances—except, of course, when I'm horrified by the thought of having to do this all over again. But, yes. There are no hells except those of our own making, and this is the testing ground, I think. We have to learn to be human beings before we can ever advance to anything else, and that doesn't mean transcending the body. It means living fully within it, all its weaknesses and temptations and limitations. It's like the old joke about why the ex-teacher was the most favored prostitute at the bawdy house: she told all her clients that they'd have to do it over and over again until they got it right.
Mythology
Myth is metaphor... Joseph Campbell or Carl Jung? I can't remember. But that's why I love it. Mythology isn't really about gods and goddesses—that's the surface stuff, not the essential stuff. People and societies create myths not to explain the way the world works, but to explain to themselves and others what it means to be human, living in a world we can rarely control. All the different psychological stages and emotions that humans go through—from coming of age, to differentiation, to projection, envy, hate, love, etc.—are encapsulated in the myths that people tell each other. Gods and goddesses are like crazy, narcissistic parents we have to learn to appease or to take care of—somebody has to be the adult in that relationship. But the meat of myth is the flexing muscle of the human heart. When you study mythology, you study humanity at its most fundamental and vulnerable core. Myths are templates that teach us how to live.
Quotes
I love seeing how the minds of other people work, the way a pithy quote can make me see things in a different way. It's important to me to get them right because I don't want someone else's interpretation to come between me and the mind that generated a given quote. I want to see how the quoted one thinks. Of course, quotes divorced from context sometimes say the opposite of what the quoted one meant, so I also like to know context. But I love how a well-turned phrase can random pop up and send my mind off on a completely new tangent.
kmkibble75 gave me my words: music, los angeles, rebirth, mythology, quotes.Music
I loves it, adores it so much I can't write when music is playing. I get too distracted, get into the music rather than what I'm trying to say. It doesn't help with the mood of what I'm writing, it takes over. So I'm always a bit envious of people who can write with music playing. I like all kinds, the more varied the better. The only types I can truly say I don't like are diva music (i.e., Celine Dion, Mariah Carey and their ilk), high production country (i.e., Garth Brooksian), and rap (yeah, I'm hopelessly old). Anything else is good: opera, hip hop, techno, oldies, folk, world music, bluegrass—even polka. Which is why when people ask me what my favorite music is, or my favorite group or song, I throw my hands up in frustration. I don't know. Or, rather, the answer changes endlessly. My iTunes library is a crazy place and I like to keep it on random so it surprises me. (Only, it seems to have a clear-cut preference these days for Leonard Cohen, Pink Martini, and Albert Ammons. It's amazing how it goes in streaks. For awhile it was the Wallflowers, Feist, and Bright Eyes. Dig that crazy logarithm.)
Los Angeles
I am a native Angeleno, which may account for my fascination with angels. Or not. Dirty angels, funky angels, noirish angels. I once wrote about this town: "L.A…. is demented, cynical, and heartbreaking, but also a place where individuality flourishes; it is hallucinatory and real; erotic and kinky, but with a deep and struggling romanticism buried beneath the wreckage…" I still think that's true. It's not the place you imagine you know from the cynical TV shows and movies you've seen, from any three hour tour, from bloated Beverly Hills gleanings (the tip of L.A.'s iceberg), the glistening beach, the snooty East Coast put-downs, or San Franciscan nose-turnings. L.A. is a crazy rhythm, an urban tattoo, a patchwork of communities, all with their own strengths and weaknesses. Not a melting pot—no, never that. Multiculturalism is an ideal, but rarely accomplished in this world, L.A. or outside of L.A. Still, we're all rattling around here together between the 405 and the San Bo and the I-10, influencing each other even when we don't mean to. Occasionally, we have a riot to clear the air, let the complacent Westsiders know that L.A. really, truly has a fractured heart that's sometimes held together only with sweat and grit. A dissonant merging of cultures and ideas, yeah. Wonderful flavors—Persian, Mexican, Thai, more—and sounds—tabla, mariachi, boom box, more—and spices—tamarind, curry, berbere, miso, more and more and more. There's always room for more. A cold town—except when it's muy caliente. Dirty, noisy, crowded, sprawling beyond our fingers' untenable grasp: agreed. But it's my town. And I love it.
Rebirth
Two-thirds of me believes in it, but as with so many other mystical concepts, a part of me remains skeptical. I want to believe in second chances—except, of course, when I'm horrified by the thought of having to do this all over again. But, yes. There are no hells except those of our own making, and this is the testing ground, I think. We have to learn to be human beings before we can ever advance to anything else, and that doesn't mean transcending the body. It means living fully within it, all its weaknesses and temptations and limitations. It's like the old joke about why the ex-teacher was the most favored prostitute at the bawdy house: she told all her clients that they'd have to do it over and over again until they got it right.
Mythology
Myth is metaphor... Joseph Campbell or Carl Jung? I can't remember. But that's why I love it. Mythology isn't really about gods and goddesses—that's the surface stuff, not the essential stuff. People and societies create myths not to explain the way the world works, but to explain to themselves and others what it means to be human, living in a world we can rarely control. All the different psychological stages and emotions that humans go through—from coming of age, to differentiation, to projection, envy, hate, love, etc.—are encapsulated in the myths that people tell each other. Gods and goddesses are like crazy, narcissistic parents we have to learn to appease or to take care of—somebody has to be the adult in that relationship. But the meat of myth is the flexing muscle of the human heart. When you study mythology, you study humanity at its most fundamental and vulnerable core. Myths are templates that teach us how to live.
Quotes
I love seeing how the minds of other people work, the way a pithy quote can make me see things in a different way. It's important to me to get them right because I don't want someone else's interpretation to come between me and the mind that generated a given quote. I want to see how the quoted one thinks. Of course, quotes divorced from context sometimes say the opposite of what the quoted one meant, so I also like to know context. But I love how a well-turned phrase can random pop up and send my mind off on a completely new tangent.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 02:01 am (UTC)I liked reading your responses, too.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 05:21 pm (UTC)p.s. Let me give some thought to your words.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 05:29 pm (UTC)Poetry
Fossils
Cooking
Folklore
Crows
no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 05:02 am (UTC)--People and societies create myths not to explain the way the world works, but to explain to themselves and others what it means to be human, living in a world we can rarely control.--
Brilliant. And so very true.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 09:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 08:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-24 09:56 pm (UTC)And thank you.