"The clock talked loud. I threw it away, it scared me what it talked." - Tillie Olsen

Isn't time a funny thing? The way it is forever changing, but always the same. Just as we are- always evolving and yet stuck in all that we are, what we were, what we could be. It is a wonderful paradox, time- it can be sincerely beautiful, the time that enables the growth of a beloved child into a man or the tender sapling's path to an old oak; the way it always moves on, even when it feels as if it should stop, that this is it, it moves on, and you live for one more moment. And time can be tragic, like the time that causes the atrophy of the body and mind, the time you never have enough of to say the things you should, or to do the things you feel that if- oh, if- you had been given more, surely you were meant to; the way it always moves on, even in moments when it feels that it should stop, it must, hasn't the whole world stopped? No. Time is there, moving and changing and staying the same.

There are people who are desperate to preserve this time, time that is all around them, and always has been. There are people who want nothing more than to forget time, but time is who we are, and all we will ever be. There are those who want to move time forewards, twist it backwards, even stop time itself for one still moment; yet time remains resilient and steadfast. We can count the time that has slipped away, the time that stands between us and our future, the time we have left in a moment- but the surest thing we can count on is that time will always be there. Forever moving, forever changing, forever still, forever the same.

If only we had enough, if only there wasn't so much of it standing between us.
-M

Microbes Rule the Universe

You know what? I love microorganisms. Almost as much as I love soap. No- scratch that- I love them more than soap. *Unknown and essentially nonexistent web audience gasps* YES, my virtual imaginary friends! It is true!

....would you like to know why? Of course! Well, I'll tell you!

Microorganisms rule the world.
Really, they do. Think about all the microorganisms that surround you right now. Touch your table-top- they are there. Yes! There! You can't see them, of course, but they have you cornered. Take a deep breath. AHA! They've infiltrated your body! In fact, they were already there. YES! Even there! A microscopic zoo inhabits our stomachs, our eyes and ears, our lungs, our armpits, OUR MOUTHS! Especially our mouths. And especially American mouths. Canadians might not have to worry so much.

By sheer numbers alone, microscopic organisms have the universe in their grip, and they'd be hard pressed to turn it over to any other life-form. We don't have to worry, though, because these microbes are benign dictators (hurrah!) Did you know that 99% of microbes are beneficial for the environment and the Homo Sapien? And Homo Sacers, come to think of it- though the unfortunate Homo Sapiens they may be if there are any Roman microbes around crack the whip. Yes- 99%! Surprising isn't it? You've got just about every bacteria, fungus, algae, archaean, protozoan and virus out there contributing to the quality of your human life! They help us digest, treat sewage, they even make us spam! Glorious SPAM!

Yet they always get the bad rap. Yes, yes- it is true that microbes are also to blame for Cholera, HIV, Measles, Mumps and Athlete's foot, but when you weigh the negative impacts of those 1% against the positive impacts of those 99%, you begin to understand how lovely and important these little creatures are to our livelihood. This is just part of the reason why I love the little guys.

The larger, more consuming passion for those minuscule millions stems from the symmetry microbes create within the universe. I love knowing that as I swipe my hand through the air, billions of organisms are finding a new home on my limb or angrily shouting "Home-wrecker!" as I displace them from their habitat. I love how they are all around us, in everything we see. I love knowing that, even when I am my most alone and removed from the world, I've got a microscopic city at the tip of my finger, full of other living, energy-filled organisms.

And, really, who wouldn't want a billion microscopic friends? They're the kings of the universe!

I've got friends in high places, buddy.
-M

P.S. In hopes of spreading the microbe love, here's some micro-graphs of my favorite little friends. They come in pretty colors.

"B"

I think we all know, deep down, that our mothers are just really awesome superhero philosophers. That's how they knit those wise maxims on throw pillows so well. Logic, I tell you. It's just logic.

For those who need a little extra reinforcement of the true identity of mothers, I'll let the talented Sarah Kay fill you in.



See the logic now?
You should really meet my mother.
-M

What Was Woven From My Breast Could Never Capture You

What was woven from my breast could never capture you

Oh, but I was drunken in your sight- a fool stumbling, falling to my knees

Prejudice, prejudice, sweet-what once fed me will feed again

Oh, but prejudice, prejudice, sweet-never gave enough to me

Its syrupy tenderness disguised itself to me

It's enough

It's enough

I am my mother in the ground

I am my mother in the womb

It's enough

It's enough

I am what was in the dust

I am what was on a shield

I am what was buried deep beneath you

I am what a sky always held

And what these stars could never tell

I am a fool, drunken in your sight- stumbling, falling to my knees

What was woven from my breast could never capture you

Yeah, I do title cop-outs like the Greeks. Neoclassicism, baby.

-M

Cozy Rain

The best kind of rain, of course, is a cozy rain. This is the kind the anonymous medieval poet makes me remember, the rain that falls on a day when you'd just as soon stay in bed a little longer, write letters or read a good book by the fire, take early tea with hot scones and jam and look out the streaked window with complacency.
~Susan Allen Toth, England For All Seasons


Here's hoping you get some cozy rain soon.
Naps all around!
-M

Hey, bologna rocks.

Here's to all of the students who get by on the sheer force of creativity and imagination. 'Cause, hey, if you can't draw a straight line to it, it's best to distract them with circles. Cheers!















How I pass Theory of Knowledge
I watched them paint their bodies
And thrash with pagan, rhythmic dancing
They gave me a mother
Who carried me in her womb
And there she whispered her secrets to me
I let a brother die,
I loved the man they stoned,
I killed the woman he wanted,
I abandoned her weeping child
I fell from the violent warmth that she carried me in
And they tagged me
Swathed in cotton and sterility
They herded me into a box
And sliced lines into my chest
I was measured and divided
They swore that they would find me
"I am here! I am here," I shouted
And then, "I am clean"
I wept for my mother
I curled into a box
I danced, painted and pagan
I drew lines
I fell to their floor shouting!
I fell to their floor spinning!
"I am here! I am here," I shouted
And then, "What am I? What am I?"
I fell to their floor

10 points for anyone who can relate this to knowing!
Oh, good old bologna, you serve me so well...
-M

What Women Want

“I once hand made a girlfriend a 50 page leather bound book. It was an illustrated fairy tale about a princess and an eccentric magician. The magician had his heart broken so badly in the past that instead of keeping it in his chest where it could easily get hurt again, he kept it locked up in a rusty trunk under his bed, where it had withered into a shriveled apricot. A lot happens that can’t really be summed up in one paragraph, but at the end, his apricot heart swells to the size of a house and they end up living happily ever after inside of it. It took me about a month to make, it was all rhyming, hand painted… something I was pretty gosh darn proud of. I really poured a lot into it, and I think it’s filled with some of my best paintings yet. Sadly in real life the story didn’t end as happy as it did in the book. Let’s just say I’m living alone in that giant apricot heart at the moment.”
-Matthew Gray Gubler

Really, guys. All we girls need is a 50-page hand-painted leather-bound fairy tale to make us happy.

Happy Valentines Day!
-M