Life Cycles of an Earth Dragon

The older I get, the more deeply I recognize my frailties and innumerable areas of ignorance. 

I am a knave of many trades and master of none. 

I am a will-o-the-wisp and a merry wanderer of the night

Or, more truthfully, in my Maineiac months, a wanderer of the wee hours

Of the early morning. 

Rising with the birds. as I follow their migratory patterns

and general bird-like lifestyle.

Please prepare for me to mix my metaphors.

It may be one of the things I do best. Who's to say? 

I ought not. I've learned this much, at least. 

A teaspoon of humility may go a long way.

Now that's all out of the way. 

I'm going to say some things about being an Earth Dragon.

These are based purely on my own poetic understanding of this zodiac sign for the year I was born, 1988.  

There are twelve animals in the Chinese / Asian Zodiac. The Dragon comes in the fifth position, and is considered to be the most powerful sign. In addition to the twelve animals, there are also five elements associated with different years in the calendar (Fire, Water, Earth, Metal and Wood). So, although the animals repeat once every twelve years, the same combination of animal and element only occur once every sixty years. 

I apologize if I have now lost you in that mathy minefield. Let's press on. Every twelve years, it is the Year of the Dragon, but of a different type. When I turned twelve, in the Year 2000, it was the Year of the Metal Dragon. Metal is the most volatile of the elements. If you can recall that far distant time, it did feel like a time of major upheaval. I'm sure the main reason I felt that way was being twelve-- going through puberty (which seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen, at the time), and all the hormones and middle school and all the other darkest emotional depths I try mostly not to revisit any more--that year was also crazy in general. From the Y2K-disaster prep that kicked it off, to the rather destabilizing and extremely disappointing election results in November, basically 2000 was a big, steamy, molten metal mess.

But then another twelve years elapse, and we have 2012, the Year of the Water Dragon. 

Now, this year is a completely different tale. For one thing, my family completed an "aunt-ilineal" dragon chain. My Aunt Penny is a Water Dragon, born in 1952. My niece Alice was born in 2012, and is also a Water Dragon. I am the Earth Dragon in the middle. 

In 2012, I was a spry and lithe twenty-four years done. I had more or less survived adolescence, made lifelong friends with amazing people from all over the world, gotten into a pretty decent college, joined a pirate a cappella group, graduated from said college, and then launched into the world, kicking off my first stint of gainful employment in the "real world" with a truly phenomenal (and exhausting) gig as a bartender on a glass-domed train in Alaska. I had some false starts here and there to be sure, but Water teaches us to Go With the Flow, and that philosophy dominated my approach to life around that time. 

I pledged my love to the Moon in January 2012, a poetical courtship that offers me solace in moments of loneliness and doubt. I also became a tall-ship sailor on the coast of California that year! My first ship, forever imprinted on my soul, is the Hawaiian Chieftain. I lived and worked aboard her for three and a half months, before I went back to Providence to frolic in the flowers of May and enjoy my closest friends' graduation time, and then returned to the Bay Area again to participate in a Shakespeare theater apprenticeship program June-October. I was, as oft before and since, absolutely brimming with potential, but still unsure how or where to best apply it. 

And now we find ourselves in another Year of the Dragon! 2024 is the Year of the Wood Dragon. So, what does that mean? Well, again I'll admit, I don't really know. But as it pertains to me...

Wood is representative of Nature. Trees, plants, animals, etc. Wood dragons tend to be a bit more reclusive or hermit-like than others. And I certainly find myself spending more time in the woods, out in nature, being feral, every year. Although I guess I've always been that way. I am leaning in and embracing it more than ever. I am working for Maine State Parks. And Maine is one of the woodiest places I know! Everything is green, glorious and growing like gangbusters. In my free time, you can usually find me near a body of water, playing my woodwind (pan flute), watching the leaves and blades of grass sway, the birds flit and twit, and summoning the snapping turtles. This may sound like magical realism, but it is solid fact.

Come join me in the woods sometime. We'll raise a tune together. Or perhaps this year will teach me to more actively reflect. With great power, responsibility, you see. As the cycles stack up, Dragon Wisdom powers up too. At least, I like to think so. For now, this dragon will continue to hold her fire.

Until the opportune moment. 

Life and Education

I always was a geek for school.
I wanted to learn, to soak it up, soak it in.
I wanted all my teachers to like me, and I didn't like it when I got into trouble.
I did anyway, sometimes, because...well, I'm a pretty mischievous person, at heart.
And I thoroughly bought into the notions and values (which I largely picked up from my Primary Educators):

-Think for yourself
-Being different / unique is an ultimate good
-Question authority

This has evolved, I suppose, into my current philosophical framework,
the lens of the prism through which I choose to engage with reality,
and my day-to-day life.

Which is to say, Question Everything.

I do not accept at face value that anything is what it purports to be,
what it seems, what it claims...
or that it always has been, always will be
what it is
or anything at all.

This may, at first glance,
Come across as somewhat destabilizing.

Perhaps so. On the other hand,
There are certain things that I am willing to accept as
Generally so.

I feel fairly confident that when I go to bed at night
I will (hopefully) wake up again in the morning.
There will be a room around me, with things in it.
A bed, a floor, walls.
A bathroom nearby.

There will be oxygen and water available
And I will likely continue to need them
And food.
Etc.

Of course, I know that these are assumptions
And that they COULD reasonably be disproven, at some point down the line.

You know, if there's a nuclear holocaust, or something like that.
(Doesn't seem as far-fetched now as it once did, unfortunately.)

Or, if the world as we know it is actually just a stage, an illusion, a viewing option
For a God or Deity observing from Above, Outside, Beyond or what have you...
Then perhaps He or She (or It) could grow bored with our petty grievances, prayers, and platitudes...
And just kinda pull the plug on the whole operation.

These are all possibilities I am willing to entertain.
That last scenario is not one I choose to find particularly appealing.
So I generally opt out.

There may be a Deity (or deities).
I do not doubt there are beings in the universe
Who know and perceive and understand
Many many
Things that I will never even be aware of.

And I can sit comfortably enough with that.
I don't need to speak with authority
About the universe, what's in it, who runs it
If anyone.

"The universe" as we know it
Is a concept conceived by humankind

So....this may all be cyclical nonsense,
searching for meaning,
from the get-go.

That's why I
Embrace the Chaos.

I try to make (mostly) rational decisions
Based on the information I believe I have, and can perceive
About how to carry on
From day to day.

I try to treat others the way I want to be treated
Because that seems straight-forward enough, generally.

I have a vague understanding of the concept of karma
(Again, I claim no expertise)
And so...I try to keep the scales in my favor, as much as I can
I believe that I am such a Lucky Dragon
That I have been blessed with good fortune, and fortuitous happenstance,
Great family and wonderful friends
Largely because I seek these things
With intention
And I (try to) focus on them
More than on the small frustrations and inconveniences
of everyday human life on earth.

Or of my particular life,
as Shana ["Goaty" "Tank" "Tink" Scruffhook O'] Tinkle,
a strange little pixie of a person
Flitting and frolicking through
the United States (and beyond, whenever possible.)

Because I know, both are there.
There are good days and bad.
Happy moments, full of beauty and joy
And miserable moments...of tedium, stress, anxiety, frustration, heartbreak...
and more.

And yes, to live a full life
I believe I must bow to both
Acknowledge, appreciate
Make space for
All.

Which is all rather unnecessary prelude for what I set out to write, which is:

I have flirted frequently with the idea of going to graduate school, in the nearly 6!!! years since I finished my undergrad degree.

Every time I have done the cost-benefit calculation in my head (for me personally, this is not at all meant as a slight for those who do take that path...)
it doesn't add up.

Too much time, too much money, too much commitment to a place and field of study...
And I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
Many of the same old ideas are still kicking around.

I could be a writer, an actor, a director, a politician, a diplomat
An organizer, a social worker,
Perhaps a journalist? food critic? theater critic? travel writer? (the dream gigs, of course)

Or maybe...
Some other thing I haven't thought of yet.

A teacher, or an alternative educator, or a guidance counselor, therapist, or life coach.
I could see myself going down one of those roads.

There are still relatively few possibilities I have formally ruled out.

I have chosen a path, of sorts, for the time being.
Or maybe it chose me.

But, at least for the next year or so, I will take a crack at being a union organizer
With the American Federation of Teachers, Northeast Region Organizing Project.
And hopefully help to build the Power of the Labor Movement and the People's Resistance,
as a whole.

I will try, in that time, to stay true to my other goal
Of continuing my Life Education.

Since I am not technically in school,
I have determined to learn as much as I can
in whatever I do.

Both when I am at work, and when I (rarely) have time away.

The main classes I am enrolling in (in my mind)
at the moment are:
-The History and Legends of Comedy: Zingers, Quips, Timing, and Execution
-Folk, Work, Maritime Music and Lyrics of Revolution
-Shakespearean Redux: Tackling some of my old favorite plays and obsessions, digging in with the words, and attempting to piece together a tiny-cast performance...if work/time allows!
-Memoirs of a Pirate Sprite: This is me, attempting to craft a book out of the collection of stories I have compiled, especially in the past 5-10 years, while rambling and wandering, singing, sailing and storming about...here there and everywhere.

It's a pretty full course load, especially given that most of my mental space is already occupied with:
-What the eff is a Union Organizer? What do I do? Where am I going? What is life? What is reality? What's a union anyway? 
etc. etc. On the job training, as it were.

On the side, I am trying to stimulate the other, more neglected pockets of my brain, using apps like Duolingo to try to firm up on my Espanol and a couple trivia / brain teaser / geography quiz games because...well, mental math, visual spacial, and geography have always been big weak spots for me. Foreign languages...well, they aren't my strongest suit, but I blame that partly on the failing American Public School system, at least as far as that subject goes, and also on my own lack of discipline, and continued practice.

The main thing, I am certain, that kept me from properly learning French, back in the day, was that I was too scared, and too proud, to practice.
I know that I sound like a damn fool in French, or Spanish, or Italian, or German, or Hebrew or any other foreign tongue I have attempted to mangle in my mouth.
And I know that my prowess with English is relatively demonstrable...

So, I stick to what I know. To my strengths. Out of fear. Of sounding foolish. Of making an ass of myself.

But one of the main lessons I have learned in the School of Life, so far is:

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
You have to be willing to make an ass of yourself
To look foolish
If you want to learn
Anything.

As an avid tree-climber, to this day,
I also appreciate the old cliche
About going out on the limbs.

And I carry with me the wise words of
Ralph Waldo Emerson, who advised that one ought
"Always do what you are afraid to do."

So, I'm trying to get a fresh start with Spanish.
I still flirt with French periodically (how can you not, mais oui, mes amis?)
And especially now that I am in the Verts Monts state...
it is liable to come to me.
Which will only make it that much more challenging, to keep all my various
Romance Languages
Straight.

But...that's ok. I've always been a bit jagged and crooked,
anyway.  ;-P

To good health, happiness, and a fruitful journey toward enlightenment!
Love to all.

ST

My Toast to My Grammy Jeanne

Here's to You, Grammy Jeanne!

You are one of the Lucky Few
who truly knows and has long known
How to Live Well.

So few, so few, really do.
So many of us screw it up,
in our own silly ways,
every day.

But not you!

What did you do?

I know! I've seen, and heard, listened to stories,
been promised with words

For a good almost 28 years now.
We've been side-walking crabbily along, you and I
On the sand, on the gritty beachy waterways
In our own, very different and unique
Crabberific ways.

I decided (like a Chinese Dragon-mouse)
to Morph and Change
from Cancer the Crab
(because who wants a name like that, really?
I agree with you there...)
into Tinkle-uff-agus the Tortuga!

A Tough Little Tortoise with
a House for a Turtle Shell
(oh wait--strike that! Reverse!
oh, whatever...)

Going through life, humming,
swimming, drifting,
nibbling, trifling, picking,
banjo-listenin...the way that turtles do

Sometimes going to distant shores
to Lay a Bunch of Eggs!! Kaboom!!
(because a Turtle Never Knows...
what little baby turtles might get to
Grow
Up and
Live Long and Prosper
(and which may not...)

Most Baby Tortugas Don't
Ever Learn to Swim.

But those that do...
Do!!!!!!

SO...that's the kind of
Cancer...I have attempted to
Swim on into
Frolickingly, like a Dolphin
Mixed with a Pelican
Mixed with a Hummingbird (for You!)
Mixed with a little Mouse / Rat / Raton!! (the Spanish for mouse= el raton, rat = la rata)
Mixed with a Crab.

Because you see...
in the Sea...

Not only is it handy
To know
How to Swim
It is also Handy, Excellent, Expeditious and Efficient
To Know how to

Walk Sideways to
Evade Predators to
Sidestep Danger and to
Keep Your Head, Your Heart, Your Home
Alongside. Nearby. Handy, as it were.

That's what we Crabbies know.
That's how we plot it. And clamber towards it.
Sideways.

It's not always a clear or direct line, strraight-forward,
marching or hopping to success.

We are not Goats nor Rams,
Oxen, nor Bunny Rabbits.

We are Crabs.

We want what we want.
We Arrr what we ARRR!!!
If you don't like it, too bad!

Go swim somewhere else, lil fish.
Go knock on someone else's rock.

We have what we need here, we crabs.
We make it, we find it, we stash it and stow it.

We work for it.
If it's a rowboat, we row it.

We're not afraid of the Lines, the Traps, the Hoes...
We'll toe it!

If/when we have to!

But we know when we don't, when we won't
When we needn't.

When maybe there are some
Greener Pastures...
just over there!!!

And maybe that's the place
To go and check out next...

:)

Pick a little, talk a little.
Stop a little. Rest a little.
Play, chat, eat, nibble, sleep.
Reduce, Reuse, Repeat.

This is the Simple and Pleasant Rhythm
of a Well-Adjusted Crab.

I hate to break it to you Grammy.
You got a Double Whammy
of not-so-great (SOUNDING) fates

As far as the Stars are Concerned.
Sometimes...life gives ya lemons.
You old Crabby Rat!

Because, it's true. The Chinese, too!
Condemn you to be named an animal
You Probably Would Prefer to
Stay Away From and certainly not
be name-called, held near, or claim that Power or Nature.

But, face that Mirror of Truth, sometimes, we must
and when we do...
You might just learn...

There is more to Some of Us
than at first glance
Meets the eye.

For example,
the Rat.


Rats have a bad reputation in the USA.
Why? Well, mostly because our ugliest, dirtiest, nastiest places
full of the ugliest, dirtiest, nastiest, meanest, harshest and roughest people
(I'm speaking of course of NYC, and other major Urban Centers)
are the ones where we most often encounter them [rats, I mean.]

And yes, it's true.
Rats, when kept close to "Human Civilization"
can be quite Unsavory Indeed!

They feed on garbage, trash, refuge, rubbish.
All that yucky, smelly, unwanted stuff that man, in his excess,
will likely cast off and discard.

They "spread disease." They're dirty or gross.

But that's not what I see
When I see a Rat.

The Real Rats, the Animal Kind
Powerful in their Natural Rogue Rural States
When I run across them in Urban Centers
like NYC, SF, NOLA, DC, PHL, etc.

Always bring me a little whimsical smile.

I know that they have a
Secret Hidden Life
tucked away, behind enemy lines,
within, inside, often right beneath our eyes
Hidden in Plain Sight.

That's the Rat Way.
Do you think it's a mistake or
a random event that made
the sensai in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Into a wise old Rat?

Not.  Rat's are #1, of all the creatures named in the
12 Year Animal Lunar Calendar of the Chinese Zodiac.

My friend (the Molten Golden Rat known as Spike Pierce, or Spike O'Shea, etc...)
Proudly declares his belief (probably shared by real Buddhists and stuff)
that the Rat was the First to the Buddha!

Why? Because Rats are:

"Quick-witted, resourceful and versatile.

With strong intuition and quick response, they always easily adapt themselves to a new environment. With rich imaginations and sharp observation, Rats can take advantage of various opportunities well. Rats have strong curiosity, so they tend to try their hands at anything, and they can deal with it skillfully.

Ladies belonging to the Rat Zodiac sign are Pretty, Smart, and [Graceful]. They have quick minds and dexterous hands, and are able to learn anything.

In sum (mine, from experience)
Common Rat Traits Include:
-Cunning/Clever
-Loyal
-Inquisitive
-Caring
-Honest
-Actively Imaginative/Creative
-Brave
-Alternately Cautious and Risky! (Balance!)
-Homey / Nesty
-Actually quite Neat, Clean, Tidy, Precise

Doesn't that sound like you to a T
Grammy Jeanne?!

Does to Me!

Even more specifically, you are a Wood Rat
(the neatest, cleanest, freshest, most Natural and
anti-urban woodliest--version of Ratitude! and Ratitouille-osity!)

Wood Rats (1924, 1984, 2044)

Independent, self-confident, virtuous and talented

So there you have it.
My Grammy Jeanne Tinkle.

~~~

I am very grateful, Grammy
to have known you all these years and
to have shared so many wonderful experiences,
parties, occasions, family gatherings and, of course,
delicious meals!

I am happy that you and I very nearly share a Birthday!
We are 3-day b-day buddies, as seems to happen a lot
in the Tinkle-Seltzman family clan

[Grammy Jeanne Tinkle was born on 7-10 and I on 7-13]

Thank you again for all you have done, shared, taught and given
Over the Years.

You have been a Wonderful Role Model, a Great Story-Sharer
(listener and teller both!)

It is thanks to you, Grammy
That I have Always Known
Since birth, babyhood, childhood, through young adulthood
and beyond...

That I am implicitly, ardently and unconditionally
Loved.

My parents and other three grandparents and aunts
Brothers and Cousins
Friends and other parts of the
"Whole Meshbucha"  (as we say in Yiddish)
All helped along the cause as well

But I have known
Since I saw that Light and Love and
Delight and Devotion and
Ecstatic Exhilaration and
Articulate Anticipation
in your eyes, back when I was a wee lil bairn

Just a tiny Baby Turtle Tortuga-Dragon-Mouse
about to grow, gain strength, courage, wisdom...
so that I could later...pounce! ;)

What Love really Looks like.
How Adoring and Sweet, Giving and Attentive
a Grandmother or Parent, an older and wiser
Nurturing Figure
Can Be.

Thanks again, for all the Hummingbirds, Cards, Berries,
Cookies, Candies, Sweets.

For filling every square of our special-grammy-made
Eggo Waffles
That had Every Last Square
Completely Filled with sweet syrup
Because you knew that was just how your lil sweet
grandkiddies liked it!

You spoiled us all, just enough,
in all the right ways.
Just like a Grammy should!

I still feel today how I did that day
Years ago
When my parents came back after a fun vacation/trip
They had taken away from their hell-raising hooligans

Things 1, 2 and later a #3 too (quite a jolly squally motley lil krewe!)

They came back to collect me (#2)
and what did I say?

No, no. I won't go. "I stay here!!!" I said, at age 2.
I wanna stay here. With Grammy Jeanne and Grampa Norman.
They're fun! They're nice! They let me play!

Mom and Dad say,
"But Shana! We missed you! We want to see you too.
Don't you want to come back to our house in Maine with us?
And see your brother Adam too?"

And I said: "You stay here too!"

Out of the mouths of babes.

I still think I had the right of it.

~~~

The American Imperative
to Strike Out on Your Own
to be an Independent ($$) Adult!!

can be a little counter-productive
mythology / propaganda
sometimes.

Wouldn't it be nice,
[sometimes]
to just stay a bit closer to the homestead
to the Heart Center
to the Family Core

Quit Wandering, Jew!

Settle down. Grow some Roots.
Shoot up into the Sky, proper-like
As A Fully-Grounded, Family-Founded
Treeeeee!!!!

Create Life. Spread Life. Give Life. Share Life.
Read Good Books. Eat Good Food.
Drink Tea. Coffee. Water. Juice.
Not too much.
Don't smoke cigarettes.
At least not once you're old enough
to Know Better.

Don't waste time, money, energy or anything else
if you can help it
and stupid useless stuff you don't need.
Seek Treasure!

Find the Lovely, Beautiful, Special, Shiny
Things in this Precious, Fragile, Ephemeral World

Find Whimsy! Imagine! Walk! Read!
Think. Feel. Do. Be.

Love. Write. Read. Think. Speak.
Laugh. Cry. Laugh. Listen.
Relax. Rest. Sleep.


Love you Grammy!
Thank you again, for all the great lessons
All the Great Treats
the Treasures, the Tales
The Laughs, the Retreats.

Thanks for Introducing me to Florida Winters
too! I am Loving that! :D
Trying not to Rub it in...

I know how harsh the New England winters can be
and how they wear and tear
unless you learn
to make like a bear

Cuddle up somewhere
Warm, Cozy, Comfy
With a Good Book, a Hug, a Friend, a Warm Drink
or Three

And take a nice snooze. A soothing lazy-palooza
Until...the sun comes out to
Shine on our Crabby Shell Shiny Backs
once more.

True Heroes, True Courage

For me, the buck pretty much stops with Gandhi and
Martin Luther King, Jr.

Those are the men, the Rebels, the Renegades,
the Freedom Fighters, the Revolutionaries

Whom I admire most.

Why?  They were wise men.
They knew the Truth.
That Bravery, Honesty, Integrity,
Moral Correctness
Uprightness
Righteousness

True Justice
Favors Peace

Reconciliation.
Tolerance
and Love.

That's what our boy J.C. was all about too.
And Buddha.

As far as I'm concerned,
most of the great thinkers,
sayers, writers, doers and livers

Who have significantly changed
and advanced the world
for the better

Have been People of this Kind.

I am only sorry that it is
First to Men's Names
that my mind must jump

When searching for
Men to Admire.

When it really ought to be
People

And there Really Ought to be
Just as Many Women
(if not more)

than the men
on the list.

Why are they not?
on my list?
this is largely my fault, yes
my biases, that I took in with my history texts
as a youth.

But it is mostly the fault of those texts
of the bulk of the attention of these conversations

who's having them
who's having the say
who's getting the last word in
we do call it "his"story after all

so where are the "hers" and the "shes" and the "its"
in the story?
hmmmm...? boys?? Men?

I'll tell you where.
They are not being heard.
Not enough.
Not yet.

Why not?
I don't know.
That's the way it has been
For a while now

So it's time for us to start to learn
Some New and Different Ways
I think.

Let's start listening to the So-Far
Unheard
and So Far
Unseen

A whole lot more.

Why not?

The Native Peoples, of the world
Who got so majorly fucked over
time and again
by some not-so-peaceful
colonial mutha-fuckas.
Like the Spanish Conquistadors.

Those mo-fos were unforgiving.
They were extremists,
and they believed themselves to be on
a Very Extreme and Intense and
Important, Urgent
Mission from God!

To Purge the Earth of the Disbelievers
the Dissenters
the Different
the non-conformers.

The Jews, the Muslims, the Pagans
I'm not sure what they did to
Atheists
but I imagine it looked a lot like...

Torture
followed by
Getting Burned at the Stake!

Ouch.  Touche, Don Jose.
That fire is hot, ja.


No more of that.

History, and Certainly
Herstory
and most importantly
OUR story...

Will Favor the Side of Peace.

That's why I am Officially Coming Out as

A Pirate Sprite for
Peace and Justice.
For Love and Understanding
For Magic and Rainbows.

I don't care what all you Haters say.
I really don't.
Couldn't find two shits to rub together.

I ran all the way out of (those kind) of fucks.
To give.

I will Wear what I want to Wear.
I will Do what I want to Do.
I will Follow my Dreams

Fearlessly

to their Logical or Illogical
Conclusions.

Because Why the Fuck Not?

As the YOLO foolio- marco-polo -rlma - lollers might have you know...

You Only Live Once, you know?

As far as I Know, anyway.

I don't really pretend to KNOW anything, for sure.
I have a lot of questions
a lot of doubts.

But there are some things I feel pretty strongly about.

One of those things
is that we need to start listening to
each other.

instead of shouting

Shouting and Violence

are

(let's face it, guys)

NOT FUCKING WORKING!!!!!!!!!!!

Don't know if you've been paying attention.
I try not to.
To watch the news.
The mainstream news
the breaking what-have-yous
the new york times
the washington post
cnn or fox or nbc abc
any of that shite.

I couldn't care less
about the horrific carnival
of ads and distractions
those sick twisted bastards
are trying to sell me.

I do not want
their shit.

I do not want
to watch their ads.

I refuse to submit to the hypnosis.

I am keeping my eyes, widely, sharply open.

In spite of closing my ears to all that
carnage and wreckage
that is the Mainstream Media
nowadays

run by the sickening saying
"if it bleeds, it leads"
if it's wrong, it's story strong
It's likely to Sell.

Shall we give ole Chimpy Trump
some more free air time?
So we can speculate
about why he doesn't have to
spend any money to get himself on TV?

Isn't that remarkable?
shall we discuss that some more?
yes lets!

Oh, back to you Jane,
over there, interviewing the flying monkey
on his private jet.

Oh, he's throwing poop again, is he?
Funny monkey!

He wants to bring up Monica Lewinsky?
What do the Clintons think about that?

Oh, they're going to rise above.
They don't even need to dignify it with a response
Shall we discuss further?

What is their relationship really all about?
Did they really LIKE golfing together?
or did they just do it to reach into each other's butt pockets?

Maybe they all just look best in those goofy plaid pants.

Probably.

Oh right!

I don't CARE!!!!!

That man is a Racist, Incompetent, Evil
Piece of Shit.

He represents everything that is
Most Wrong with America.

He represents, to me,
the Cycle of Violence.

Against Women, Against Muslims,
Minorities, Hispanics, Blacks,
Everyone who wasn't born with Silver Spoon
happily and heavily in hand.

He's not a whole lot better than Dick Cheney.
He's just not as smart.
He's more like the latest George W. Bush.

The newest Monkey
some of our country
(a lot? perhaps?)

is actually

CONSIDERING PUTTING IN THE WHITE HOUSE!?!

Dear God.

GW, TJ, JA, SA, AH, AB, JH, BF...

I can just count up the Founding Fathers
Rolling over in their graves

Recoiling in Horror
at the Travesty

this idealistic experiment of "representative"
"Democracy" has become

Ha. Ha. Ha.

I'd laugh. If I weren't too busy
Raging and Crying.
Alternatingly.

I don't really know what else to do.


I'll tell you what.

I'm going to Work for Bernie.

I'm going to Have Faith

that maybe a Guy like Him

has a better shot of getting elected here

than a chimp like Trump
or an evil, sociopathic strategist like Ted Cruz
(who may be the next head of the hydra, if Trump does eventually chop himself off)...

Or even than a Political Shell of a Human
like Hillary Clinton

whom No One
that I know...
has ever found inspiring.

She's a smart lady.
She's competent.
She wants it real bad.

I feel bad I don't want her to have it.
But not really.
And I don't.

She doesn't really deserve it.
She doesn't really understand

What the Point of Seeking
the highest Elected Office in the Land
actually is.

It's not for Glory, Fame or Power.
No way, George W. the First, would surely say.
No way.

It's to Serve.
Do you See How that Job Ages People?
She oughta know better than anyone.

Look what it did to Bill!
8 years in office,
takes probably 15-20 off the average person's
life expectancy, I would estimate.

Look at Poor Obama.
Before and after. 2008, and now.
At least 15-20 years older, in a mere 7.5.

I think Bernie knows that.
Sure, he's old.

It'll probably wear him right the fuck out.
He better choose someone good for Veep.
Maybe even you, HC.

I know, always a bridesmaid...
It might kill you.

Figure it out.

We Liberals need to Show Some Guts
and Balls (or Uteri, or Whatthefuckever...insert body part that indicates Courage, Strength, Preseverence, and not being a bunch of frigging scaredy-cat cry babies who lack the political will to chase their own shadow down.)

We need to be willing to
Take a Real Risk
go out on a Limb.

Sure, he's a Socialist.
So What, McCarthy?
We still living in the frickin 50s?

Look at Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Germany, Canada, Cuba, France, the UK...etc.
They have socialized medicine.

Has it ruined everything forever?
I don't think so.

People generally seem to be pretty ok with it.
Life goes on.

Just saying.

Ok, political rant over for now.

More, likely to come.

Letters to Ghosts

I just had another idea.

[Digression:]

I am revisiting this blog site for the first time in about a year.

For nearly a year, I let it lie fallow.

I buried other seeds, other places.

Wrote, here or there, elsewhere, or not at all.

Depending on the day, the month, the up - or - down swing

What kind of mood I was in.

[Digression:]

I am attempting, now--

for the sake of my Potential Growth

as an aspiring writer or what-have-you

--to identify my own digressions.

What is a digression?

I hardly know myself. Perhaps that is the root of the problem.

Let's dig deeper, shall we?

Digression: Ah, yes. noun

1. the act of digressing.       2. a passage or section that deviates from the central theme in speech or writing

But, so far, all of these have been, in fact, digressions, as you can tell from the title of this blog post, which is, in fact:

"Letters to Ghosts."

And so, I am going to start again, digression / self-interruption - Free!

Ahem,

Letters to Ghosts.

My idea.

Over a year ago, I published a post about Philip Seymour Hoffman.  It was not very long after he died, and probably sometime around when Robin Williams died as well.  I can't remember exactly when that happened, because I still have not fully accepted the truth of that fact.  Robin Williams is such an idol, an icon, a true Hero to me that I can scarcely begin to acknowledge that he is truly gone from this world.  His is a Light that the world sorely misses.

But that, too, was a bit of a digression.

I wrote, not about Robin (because I could not face his passing at all at the time that it happened, even until now)...but rather about Philip Seymour-Hoffman (PSH).  And, I had actually written the letter before he died.

I never mailed the letter to PSH.  I wish I had.  It is, if you ask me ;), a pretty nice letter.  One I know I would be happy to receive, were our roles reversed.  I doubt it would have been enough to stem or cur his descent into despair and drugs...but you never know.

...

I have been thinking lately about the Nature of Power.

What kind of Powers do I have? What kind of Powers do you? What kind of Power Could We Have, if we Let our Powers Combine?

I'm curious.

Because, you see, there are many different Kinds of Power.  There are Magical Powers.  That's mostly the kind I have.

There is also Political Power. Social Power. Physical Power / Might.  Fire power/ ammunition.

I am not terribly interested in those kinds of power anymore.

Those appear, to me, to be the kind whats-his-face meant when he said

"Absolute Power, Corrupts, Absolutely!"

May have been Machiavelli. Or Arnold Schwarzenegger?
Or perhaps it was Oscar the Grouch. I'm sure my friend the Oracle, Google, could tell ya.

That lady/dude/thing knows EVERYTHING!

But that's neither here nor there.

Not really. Another digression, I fear.

Blast, Tinkle! You're at it again!

But I guess that's just how we pirate-sprite's think. And Tink.

That's how we Process Information. Verbally. Orally. Linguistically. Twistedly.

Along a curving, winding, zig-zagging, swaying, intergalactic kind of a path-track.

I know, it sounds like a load of codswallop, hogwash, balderdash and gobsmattering claptrap

But it is, in point of fact, quite true.

When have I ever lied to you?

This Honest Pixie has not the Power to Lie.

Not convincingly. Not about anything important.

Tis not a talent or skill I've cultivated.

I've never really needed it.  I am Real, True, Upfront, Upright, Upstanding and

Never a Phony

Always Myself.

I try not to wear too many masks in public. I find them tiresome.

Too much effort to keep up.  To hang on to.

It's much easier, once you embrace and give in to it, To Be You.

It's fun. It feels good. At least, some of the time.

At least, I think it feels a lot better than trying or pretending to be someone you're not.
Someone you don't particularly, truly and honestly, deeply desire to be.
For someone else's sake. For society's, your friends', your parents', your partners', your kids'.

That all seems like an awful lot of unnecessary work, if you ask me.

But you didn't. So I'll quit with the lecture and get back to the actual

SUBJECT AT HAND!

[ you see, I've digression-ed again! ]

Letters to Ghosts.

My idea.

So, I wrote that one letter to PSH. Because he's great. And I thought he should hear that.
But then, I published / sent it too late.  Too little, too late. He never saw it. He never received (in this life) those words of appreciation and admiration. And that's too bad. And it served as a reminder, to me, that I need to remember to share those words and thoughts with my loved ones AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE! because you never know when it might have been your final chance.

But...my actual idea, that I set out here, originally, to express, was this:

I think I would like to compose a series of letters to dead people I wish to address.

Then, with some, I think I would like to attempt to Write Back, to myself.

Now, I recognize that this is a rather strange and eccentric idea.

It sounds very much like, well, talking to myself.

And, yes, that is more or less what it would be.

Giving in to the Many Voices in My Head...

[perhaps taking a draft of inspiration from the dude wearing the t-shirt on the MBTA commuter rail yesterday that said "I know the Voices aren't Real...but sometimes they have great ideas!"]

Allowing them the freedom to spill out onto the page.

But isn't that what a writer is supposed to do?

Serve as a vessel for Characters who Need their

Voices to be Heard

and their

Stories to be Told.

In other words, often

Characters are Ghosts.

And verse vice-a.

So, I think this is an excellent idea [if i do say so...of course i do! ;)]

I still want to hear back from PSH. Try to imagine or intuit what he might have wanted to say, had he read my letter, and wished to respond. And perhaps he will even wish to strike up a pen-pal correspondence!  I mean, it's not so far-fetched! The movie I was writing to him about featured an unlikely friendship that sprung up through a pen-pal letter exchange [Mary and Max--seriously, see this film if you haven't already! I'm pretty sure it's still on Netflix! Claymation, beautiful, amazing, moving, true story!]

And then, who knows? Perhaps Robin and I will be letter-writing buddies too. And then maybe Paul Newman will join in the fun. I'm sure it would be neat to write to Bill Shakespeare. And what about Beethoven? Or John Lennon? The possibilities are truly endless.

So, this is my idea!
Any thoughts? Any takers?
Dares on where to start? ;)

Going from Goat to Monkey...

Well, we are well into the holiday season, for sure.

Thanksgiving, the day of Gluttonous Turkey Stuffing Thineselves
has come and gone

We have said our thanks, our peace, our squabbles and quaffles have come out round the family tables, tucks done and napkins kitted out, etc.

Now we are revving up for the BIGGIE. You know the One. That shall not be named

(at least not if you were raised in a mega-grinchy Jewish American Conservative-branch traditional-ish household, like myself)

Christmas is a Day of Silence. Quiet. Being Alone.

It's the day when All my Friends, and pretty much Everyone I know

Gathers around with their friends and loved ones
and prepare to get down and have some more yummy dinners, desserts, snacks, drinks, gifts, and whatnot.

And what do we get to do?

Bupkis!

If we are lucky, we may get invited out by some other Jewish friends to see a movie, or to hit up a Chinese or Thai or Vietnamese restaurant somewhere around town.

A few times, more lately, I have been very lucky, and been invited to share Xmas celebrations with families who do it.  I liked that better than the anti-Xmas Grinch-thing, I have to say.  I'm a hedonist, after all, and so I usually prefer to celebrate when given the choice...and there are good things about what Xmas is supposed to be about...Goodwill and Charity toward your fellow souls, the season of light-bringing, feasting and gift-giving....that's all kinda nice and cheery, if you ask me.

There are nice lights to see, especially up in Maine, where we need them most desperately, with all those many many bonus hours of darkness in the winter months, especially right around the winter solstice as Xmas so conveniently
(by happenstance, of course, ;) is!

So...

This year, I am doing some non-traditional ritual-like traditions, along with my current house-mate the notorious Bloody Spike Pierce, of Vero Beach, Key West, Philly, NJ and other parts known and unknown...

He's a bit of a Rambling Soldier to My Pirate Sprite, but that seems to be a suitably fitting combination...

Wacky and out of place as we may seem in each other's lives and age groups and social circles, because we are both Pirates, at heart, we are of like minds, of similar ilk and genre of character.
Simpatico of Spirit, or S of S, as we Like to Call it.

Whatever It is.  We seem to be getting along pretty well, for the most part, these days.

There are, of course, many bumps in the road.

It is not typical for a PS like myself to pin myself down to stay in one place for more than a few weeks at a time.

It is not easy for a PS like me to Commit (the Big C word in my vocab...)
to a Romantic Partner of any kind, for any long stretch of time or place

I always (pretty much) have at least an arm, leg or tail halfway out the door, primed to run at the first sign that my opposing partner may be

"getting too attached."

I almost married my good friend Ricardo this past August.

I don't really regret the decision to try, nor do I regret our ultimate choice to call it off, at least for the foreseeable future.

There may come a time, somewhere down the road, when we decide to follow through with the celebration (at least) part of the wedding plan.  Maybe not so much with the legal - border - countries -customs, blah blah bureaucratic bs baloney hooha I don't like to deal with anyway...but maybe just for big ole funsies, and big piratical belly laughs, for Bar Houli, for old time's sake, to kick up a ruckus, just because we can, just because with me and Ricardo Garciaherreros' powers combined...

we could probably throw one HELL of a party...

hehehe.  So we'll see.  Perhaps I will be able to convince him to join me in this silly notion, of following our plans through to at least a few of their illogical conclusions...

Either way, wedding plans are on the back-burner for the present time.

As is, I think, my plan to try to go to grad school this coming fall, or perhaps even the following fall (of 2017).  I'm in no rush to saddle myself with any student debt
(I have been blessedly blessed to not have very much up to this point, thank you very much Shelby Davis, Kurt Hahn, UWC-USA peeps and Brown University...and probs Obama too. Thanks Obama!)

So...I'm not eager to turn that happy fortune on its head.
Maybe I will go to grad school later. When it seems like it will be Worth it.
Or at least somehow, kinda pay for itself.

We'll see. But I'm not in a rush about it. Sorry. CUNY can wait.
I think. According to my friend Christian who is currently finishing up her MA in Applied Theater there (concentrating on doing theater for Social Change, Community Discourse / Development, etc. Social Action, Activism. All that Jazz and Good stuff!!)

They have a whole course on Augusto Boal and Theater of the Oppressed games and techniques and methods.  It seems like a great program, very much up my alley.
But again, no rush. It doesn't look like it'll dry up in the next year or three.

Here's why I think I oughta wait, a lil.

It looks like it may be time for me to spend some of my marbles elsewhere.

"Where to now, Pyrat Spryte?" you may well inquire.

Well, my friends, I think I am going just a bit further south this winter, to finish it off in lovely tropical Caribbean tourist-infested, cursed and haunted Key West, also known as Cayo Hueso, Spanish for "Isle of Bones" or Bone Island.

Spike, formally of the much-beloved Bone Island Buccaneers, a rowdy and rambunxious crew that used to wander and patrol the water and streets of ole Cayo Hueso, and I (formally of ARRR!!!, Brown University's resident Pirate A Cappella group for the past 15 or so years...) are planning to combine our fortunes and resources to try to bring new life to a Ghost Tour company that Spike helped to create almost 20 years ago.

The Original Historic Ghost Tour of Key West was truly groundbreaking when it emerged in the mid-1990s, as an independent, casual walking tour, led by a few bold gents who were passionate about Bone Island's Ghost and Spirit Histories, Legends, Stories and other folk lore.

There are many ghosts on the island. I am only just beginning to learn their names, their stories, and their haunting places.  I have only spent about 2 weeks in Key West so far.  But I must admit, its charms have bewitched and ensnared me.  And I actually can see myself buying a small business, moving down there mostly full-time (and working remotely when I want/need to travel, or go back North to Maine, or to escape the Hurricane season or the Humidity...), learning to be one of the tour guides, and running/managing the office end of things, so that this Phoenix of a badass business will (like the Mary Ellen Carter) RISE AGAIN mutha-flippers!

I'm pretty darn stoked.  And so, I say to all of you Pirate Pals, poised and waiting out there, for the trials, unexpected challenges, and rollicking wackiness of the Year of the Goat--it is almost time to usher in the Year of the Monkey.  And here's what I think about that.

Monkey's are Smart, yes, but they are Primarily Playful.  Monkeys want to Explore, Discover, Create, Invent, Interact, and most of all...Play!  Swinging in the trees, branch to branch, arm to arm, leg to leg, arm to tail, what have you.  Some say the most fun you can have in a day would involve a barrelfull of those wacky guys. (I'm not so sure about all that...might be more trouble and work than fun, when all's said and done, trying to wrangle all them monkeys into a barrel,..and how many monkeys does it really take to make a barrel-full anyway? eh? That's what I want to know!)

In any event, my point is that I think we have some good and exciting, fun and lovely, enchanting and inspiring, creative things in store for this coming year, 2016, the soon-to-be Year of the Monkey.  I'm sure there will still be many Hills to Climb, and Challenges to Meet, but I've got a good feeling about this one.

I know, I said pretty much the same thing last year about the Upcoming Year of the Goat. I figured it would be a wild and fun, playful, joyful kind of year. But now that we're in it, and most of the way through it, I've realized that goats, although Smart, Playful and Mischievous too (like Monkeys), are also incredibly stubborn, and usually do what THEY want, NOT what YOU want.  So, it really shouldn't have shocked me that this year involved a lot of challenges, climbing up and over / clambering through some unexpected hills, peaks and valleys.  These are also very goat-like things.

Hopefully, the mischief of the Monkey's year will be a bit more cooperative with our own private, personal and professional goals than this past year was. (But what do I really know about the Chinese Zodiac? I am obviously not Chinese. Most of my information comes from this website: www.chinesezodiac.com, which I have found to be a great resource for anyone who is at least curious about this alternate zodiac system.)  My own preference for the Chinese zodiac over the Western one has some fairly predictable roots.  It certainly seems better to be an Earth Dragon than a Cancer the Crab, and this website has proven to be surprisingly accurate in its descriptions of many people I've exposed to it.  Except for their predictions of promising career choices. Those tend to be a little wacky, and more hit or miss. 

Ghosts, and Famous People

Hello again friends,

I am in all-out writer-mode right now, trying to write and right my writerly and rightful fortunes in this world.  Trying desperately to find and tell the story that is mine, so I can share it, so I can get some stories in return, and maybe learn something about Life and Death and the Human Condition.

Or something like that...

So, I was going through some things I have written in the past. (Cheating the system, I know, I know.)

I've been thinking a lot about Life and Death lately.
For numerous reasons.

These are the two forces that surround us, constantly.
There is always at least a duality.

There are probably many more than two forces in play, at any given time,
but it is comforting, for our simple mortal minds, to break things down
Into TWOs.

Night and Day
Light and Darkness
Happy and Sad
Water and Fire
Earth and Air
Body and Spirit
Heart and Mind
Good and Bad
Us and Them
You and Me
Him and Her
This or That
Alive or Dead

etc. etc.

I don't pretend to understand any of this.
I just attempt to nod to it. To acknowledge these notions.
To examine them closer.


Someone told me, not long ago, I think on an airplane to somewhere...
But who can keep track?
That Human Behavior is Motivated by 2 Forces:

Pleasure
and
Fear.

Luckily for me, I was apparently born with a deficiency in my ability to experience or appropriately respond to danger, and the situations that for most people tend to induce fear.

Or perhaps I was not born that way. Maybe that's the part of my head I hit when I was diving out of my high chair as an infant...But that doesn't really explain why I did that in the first place...

I guess I just wanted to see if I could fly!

So, I try to live a life primarily motivated by Pleasure. I am a true, good-old-fashioned hedonist.

I get away with whatever I can so that I can play more often than I have to work...

And I wouldn't have it any other way!


I'm pretty sure most of that was a digression. I set out to share a letter I wrote to Philip Seymour Hoffman, probably in April, a couple of months before he died.  I never mailed it to him, and I was to regret that lack of action when I got the sad news.  Not that I delude myself to think it would have mattered or made a difference, but it is absolutely my belief that it is essential to express love and gratitude and respect for others as often as possible, proactively, because they can't hear you (as far as I know) at their funeral.

I failed this time. Luckily, I guess, PSH and I weren't actually close, personal friends or relatives. So the regret isn't going to weigh me down too heavily. But I still think I'll feel better if I share my words about his talent, and the ways I respected and admired him.  So here you are!

Dear Philip Seymour-Hoffman,

I am writing to tell you that I just watched a recent film of yours, Max and Mary.  It is one of the best pieces of film I have seen in a long time, and I wanted to tell you that I admire you.  I guess you must be very smart and discerning, as well as unreasonably talented as an actor, because I only ever see you acting like a badass in films that seem worthwhile somehow.

This impresses me as an aspiring actor, writer, director and creative person.  I would like one day to have all the things you have, but I must also accept that I may never.  I hope that you are happy with all that you have achieved, and the life you are living.  I hope you don’t feel too put upon by crazy adoring fans (such as myself), and that you are as decent and kind as I like to think you are.

It’s nice to have heroes to look up to, but I am not so naïve as to still believe there are people in the world who are purely good.  All humans are flawed and imperfect, but that’s part of what makes them interesting.  Still, many people are good enough in enough ways to merit admiration and gratitude, and that has always been enough to keep me coming back for more.

I must admit I was a bit disillusioned when I met Kevin Spacey, briefly, after seeing him in a performance of Moon for the Misbegotten in New York, and he was rather surly, grouchy and rude with the public.  Perhaps he was just having an off day, or the performance really took it out of him, but I’ve heard confirmations from friends of friends who served him at Starbucks or someplace that he’s not the nicest guy, and I found that disappointing, because I have always really admired him as an actor. I still do, but I now also kind of hold it against him that he isn’t nice too.

I met John Lithgow once after a different performance in New York.  (I go there often, as my mother grew up on Long Island, and my grandparents have always had a home there, since the beginning of recorded time, at which point they resided in other boroughs, mostly Brooklyn and Queens, where my grandmother was, in her extreme youth, next door neighbors with Theodore Roosevelt.

Mr. Lithgow was pleasant, patient and kind, but clearly a lifelong smoker. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I try not to judge…but it’s never been a habit that made much sense to me.)  I think he’s pretty happy with how he handles his life, for the most part.

I was once in a film with you and Paul Newman.  Empire Falls.  I grew up in Maine, so I was able to come out to Waterville to film some of the high school art class scenes as a “featured extra” while I was myself a sophomore in high school.  Do you remember making that film? What did you think of Maine? The experience? The finished product? I loved the book before the movie was made, and I enjoyed being a part of it. I think it’s very faithful to the book, and a good piece of work, not to mention over-loaded with great actors. :)

Did you enjoy working with Laura Linney in that other movie? I forget the name.  She came and spoke at Brown while I was an undergrad there a few years ago, and she seemed genuinely lovely. She’s one of my favorite actresses.  I also love Meryl Streep. Duh, who doesn’t, right?  Do you have a favorite actor or actress to work with?  Director? If so, why?  Are there any dream roles you haven’t gotten to play yet?  Do you think you will keep acting for the rest of your life? Do you love doing it?  Are there other things you love doing just as much?

Forgive me if these questions seem impertinent, or as if I am prying.  I don’t really expect you to answer this letter.  I expect, if I decide to send it at all, or if I was able to find an address to mail it to, it would probably be screened by an agent or personal assistant or somebody like that.  But if it does get to you, and it catches your interest, I would love to hear back, in whatever form you like.  

I’m sad that there doesn’t seem to be that much great writing making it to the top, making it to the public or past the hot shot executives in LA and Hollywood.  I’m especially sad that there don’t seem to be that many great parts written for women, or that I feel particularly drawn to as the particularly-me kind of person that I am.  I hope to remedy that one day, whether or not I end up trying to press on as a “professional actor,” whatever that may mean.

One of my favorite things you have given me (in a way) is in the movie Capote, when Truman’s lover kept talking about going to Spain to write. One of my lovers and I once picked up on that, and I went to Spain to write a few years ago, and it was very fruitful, and idyllic, poetic and beautiful.  I hope to go back and do that again sometime soon.

Another is that awesome devil-may-care character you play in Pirate Radio. That movie is pretty silly, and occasionally quite crude, but I also found it touching and uplifting and entertaining, and your character is a BAMF (bad-ass mother-flipper, in case you’re unfamiliar with that term. But I imagine you’re probably hep to the lingo nowadays.) 

Take care, do good work, keep in touch (if you like),

Shana  Tinkle