(this rock made me sway with the beauty of it - there is no logic to that but the feeling it fills my heart with beats that logic hands down....)
today i had a conversation with my husband about the seeming religion of denying emotion.
I have been hot under the collar lately about the New Zealand Government's proposal to mine schedule 4 protected conservation land.
i haven't wanted to talk about it here or on any of the social networking thingys that i frequent because it felt like airing dirty laundry.
It felt like having a government that was stupid enough and money grubbing enough to want to hack into some of the most beautiful land on the planet to extract some minerals and ore for some foreign owned company to cream the profits... well it felt like a dirty family secret.
I wanted to uphold our paradisical image in the eyes of my friends...
I am ashamed of our rightwing smarmy government - and i did NOT vote for them but they are my representatives on the local and world stage and they make me cringe.
The debate in New Zealand was feirce and there were larger protests and more submissions about this than anything else had ever stirred up.
But one of the bitter tastes left for me was how the "emotional" aspects of the issue were negated. "We can't be emotional about this" "We can't let emotion carry us away"
why the fuck not?
When you love something like it is part of your family, part of your body like many New Zealanders love this country - it is considered a weakness - a fallacy in the decision making process.
Emotion is negated
And i want to know why.
Why when New Zealand men have one of the highest rates of suicide in the western world do we think that it is ok to continue to malign the very thing that when we are staunch enough to sit with it will get us through...
Why do we need to deny something that makes us human?
Or is that it? Is them demanding that we deny ourselves emotion in resisting such a travesty the only way they have of blocking the humanity, the passion required to fight strongly?
we will all end up like Mr Logic Don't read past here if you are offended by foul language - even though i have already said fu*k sorry)
Mr Logic is a character from VIZ magazine - full of purile and imho hilarious comics...
here is an example of him at his best...
Mr Logic is in charge of the till at the local off-licence
:Armed Robber: No nonsense. Just give me all your money.
:Mr Logic: I shall commence by pointing out to you that my demeanour is not one which could be described as nonsensical. Consequently I can attest you have no cause to reprimand me on your first point. On to your second point: Bearing in mind the potentially lethal situation in which I find myself, to wit: your presence in conjunction with the presumably loaded firearm which is presently levelled at my cranium, I will comply with your request comprehensively, albeit reluctantly. Here, twenty-seven pence.
:Armed Robber: Twenty-seven pence? Fuck off. There's more than that in the till.
:Mr Logic: Indeed, undoubtedly so. However your request was for *my* money. The currency in the till belongs to a third party and is therefore not "my money". However, if you are still desirous of said money I would suggest that you re-phrase your original statement to recognise and incorporate this important distinction.
PS THE GOVERNMENT REJECTED THE PROPOSAL TO MINE SCHEDULE FOUR LAND BUT ARE SNIFFING AROUND MY BELOVED NORTHLAND SO I HAVEN'T RELAXED ABOUT THIS YET....
The colour of the sky *the ocean * Elizabeth and Maeve * people who reach beyond the ordinary * genuine generosity *good food * watching things grow * the miracle of birth *a woman's power *tenderness in all its forms * the cycle of life * courage * people with a sense of fun * compassion * beautiful jewellery * art that is made from the heart - without a view to the purchaser or the market but made because it has to come *Clarissa Pincola Estes * grace
LIKE SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS THESE ARE MORETHINGSTHATITHINK
i welcome you with warmth and love to the thoughts that grab me .... and the way they come out of my fingers when i make the time in my day as a mother and artist and poodle walker to write them down.....