DARK AMY

dark amy is grieving about bloodflowers

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yw91BxwFE5s

maybe love = hate

(BLOODFLOWERZ : DAMAGED PROMISES)

]]> http://mirrorpalace.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/gender-changing-in-gods-and-daimones/ Sat, 21 Nov 2009 14:03:05 +0000 Laria http://mirrorpalace.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/gender-changing-in-gods-and-daimones/

The theme of gender-changing, whether by one’s own hand or choice or by another’s, occurs frequently in Hellenic mythologies. It is accompanied, often, by gender-reversal; by gods and daimones acting as the opposite gender, rather than actually becoming the opposite gender. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the gender fluidity of the gods (and certain gods in particular), and part to the necessity of their act for their own gain, or for the gain of the entire kosmos. In this essay, I will be discussing, in-depth, the three most notable occurrences of gender-changing – Hermaphroditos’, Agdistis-Rhea-Kybele’s, and Attis’.

The most memorable case of gender-changing is that of Hermaphroditos, the god of hermaphrodites, effeminate men, masculine women, transsexuals, transgenders, etc. Hermaphroditos’ gender-change (or, more correctly, gender-merge) is also his primary mythology. He is rarely named in the literature that points to the Erotes, although he is numbered among them, both by his parentage and divine function; and even the mythology of his birth is short and barely-considered. His pre- and post-merge mythology is barely touched upon; despite his Olympic parentage, he seems to have been all but forgotten by the Classical writers, in all respects other than detailing his merge with the nympha Salmakis.
Hermaphroditos (or Atlantius, as he was once/otherwise known, according to Hyginus, Fabulae, 271), ‘whom in Mount Ida’s caves the Naiades nurtured’ (Ovid, Metamorphoses, 4.28ff), was a youth comparable in beauty only to Adonis, Ganymedes, Endymion, Hyakinthos, Narkissos, Hylas and Khrysippos. It is interesting to note, here, that several of these most beautiful youths–Adonis, Hyakinthos and Ganymedes and, to a lesser extent, Hylas–all experienced a gender reversal, which will be discussed in Gender-Reversal in Gods and Daimones.
When he was fifteen–’when thrice five years had passed’ (Met, 4.28ff)–Hermaphroditos ventured from Mount Ida, ‘eager to roam strange lands afar’ (Met, 4.28ff), and eventually came upon Salmakis’ ‘limpid shining pool’ (Met, 4.28ff). Salmakis, upon seeing the beautiful youth, declared her love for him. He, who ‘knew not what love was’ (Met, 4.28ff), rejected her as she ‘besought at least a sister’s kiss’ (Met, 4.28ff). Pretending to accept his rejection, the nympha Salmakis withdrew from sight; and Hermaphroditos, thinking himself alone, stepped into her pool and ’stripped his light garments from his slender limbs’ (Met, 4.28ff). Salmakis watched him until he dived into the pool; and that–in succumbing to the pull of her water–made him hers, seemingly, for she ‘flung aside her clothes and plunged far out into the pool and grappled him’ (Met, 4.28ff). Hermaphroditos struggled to free himself and, at last, she managed to gain such a hold on him that ‘her clinging body seemed fixed fast to his’ (Met, 4.28ff), and she beseeched the gods to never let their bodies part. The gods (though it is unknown which gods) accepted the prayer and ‘both bodies merged in one, both blended in one form and face . . . they two were two no more, nor man, nor woman–one body then that neither seemed and both.’ (Met, 4.28ff) Hermaphroditos, now merged with Salmakis, emerged from the pool, saw that ‘the waters of the pool, where he had dived a man, had rendered him half woman’ (Met, 4.28ff) and beseeched his divine parents, Hermes and Aphrodite, that ‘whoso in these waters bathes a man emerge half woman, weakened instantly’ (Met, 4.28ff). His parents agreed; and ‘drugged the bright water with that power impure’ (Met, 4.28ff).
Diodorus Siculus described Hermaphroditos, after the merging with the nympha: ‘Some say that this Hermaphroditos is a god and appears at certain times among men, and that he is born with a physical body which is a combination of that of a man and that of a woman, in that he has a body which is beautiful and delicate like that of a woman, but has the masculine quality and vigour of a man.’ (Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 4.6.5.) Diodorus Siculus then continued to note that ‘there are some who declare that such creatures of two sexes are monstrosities, and coming rarely into the world as they do they have the quality of presaging the future, sometimes for evil and sometimes for good.’ (Library of History, 4.6.5.)

The above quote of Diodorus Siculus can be applied, in turn, to the monster-god Agdistis, born of the Phrygian Sky God and Earth Goddess–Ouranos and Gaia–who would later become Kybele, equated with Rhea as Rhea-Kybele, mother of the gods.
Agdistis was, according to Pausanias, born when Ouranos (or, rather, the Phrygian sky god – who Pausanias equates with Zeus, strangely), ‘let fall in his sleep seed upon the ground, which in course of time sent up a Daimon, with two sexual organs, male and female.’ (Pausanias, Guide to Greece, 7.17.8.) Fearing Agdistis–the bi-sexed, and therefore aggressively, and by some accounts, literally insanely, sexual god–the other gods ‘cut off the male organ’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8), thus effectively changing Agdistis, a bi-sexed god, to Rhea-Kybele, a solely female god. An almond tree grew from Agdistis-Kybele’s castrated organ, and a nympha daughter of the river-god Sangarios ‘took the fruit and laid it in her bosom, when it at once disappeared, but she was with child.’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8.)
The child born was the youth Attis; and as he grew, his beauty, which was ‘more than human’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8) drew Agdistis-Kybele’s eye. She fell in love with him; and he ‘conquered the towered goddess with pure love’ (Ovid, Fasti, 4.222). Attis swore to her that he would ‘desire to be a boy always’ and that if he ever cheated, the one ‘I cheat with [will] be my last’ (Fasti, 4.222). He cheated, either by having an affair with the nympha Sagaritis (Fasti, 4.222) or by an attempt at marrying a king’s daughter (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8).
Agdistis-Rhea-Kybele, in divine wrath and madness, either then killed Sagaritis–by cutting down the nympha’s tree; ‘her fate was the tree’s’ (Fasti, 4.222)–or showed up at the wedding of Attis and the king’s daughter, whilst ‘the marriage-song was being song’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8); either version, though, caused Attis to descend into instant madness. Attis ‘bolts to Dindymus’ heights’ (Fasti, 4.222) and ‘went mad and cut off his genitals’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8), until ‘no signs of manhood remained.’ (Fasti, 4.222.) According to Pausanias, she then ‘repented of what she had done to Attis, and persuaded Zeus to grant the body of Attis should neither rot at all nor decay’ (Guide to Greece, 7.17.8); effectively, then, immortalising him.
This myth–beginning with Agdistis’ conception and ending with Attis’ immortal rebirth–has several common themes. The first, of course, is gender-changing; Agdistis, the bi-sexed, became Rhea-Kybele, a mother goddess, and simultaneously impregnated Sangarios’ nympha daughter, and thus became a father goddess, too. Attis, the boy born of the nympha and Agdistis’ castrated genitals, castrated himself, in turn, and ‘became a model: soft-skinned acolytes toss their hair and cut their worthless organs’ (Fasti, 4.222), thus effectively changing his own gender - and although his gender was changed by his own hands, it was caused by Agdistis-Rhea-Kybele. The second important theme is accidental pregnancy: the Phrygian Sky God’s/Ouranos’ impregnation of Gaia, the Earth, creating the bi-sexed Agdistis; and then Agdistis’ castrated genitals’ impregnation of Sangarios’ daughter, creating the lovely Attis. The entire myth continues the theme of ‘creatures of two sexes are monstrosities’, as suggested by Diodorus Siculus; and is a reoccuring theme within Hellenic mythology. Perhaps the other gods are wary the raw, fertile, mad power of bi-sexed gods; or, perhaps it was simply the prejudices of Classical society, made into divine acceptance through the mythos.

In Gender-Reversal in Gods and Daimones, I will be further exploring the gender switches in the Greek mythos; including Zeus’ gender-switch into Artemis, Adonis’ androgynous nature, Ganymedes’ and Hyakinthos’ apparent femininity and feminine values; and others.

Lilitha - Mrs.Pegasus

Mrs.Pegasus – where have you gone?

therapist says: “go on painting!”

So I do!

die letzte Rose

“Sag mir worauf ist in dieser Welt Verlass?”

(Die Ärzte : nur ein Kuss)

Ich will nicht mit Fragen und Wünschen belastet sein

vom Saum bis zum Kragen

von Blicken betastet sein

Ich flieh, wenn ich fremde Augen spür’

denn ich gehör’ nur mir

Ich will nicht gehorsam gezähmt und gezogen sein ich will nicht bescheiden beliebt und betrogen sein

ich bin nicht das Eigentum von dir

willst du mich belehren dann zwingst du mich bloß zu fliehen vor der lästigen Pflicht

Will ich die Sterne dann finde ich selbst dorthin

ich wehr’ mich bevor ich mich verlier

Lilitha--DSCN9064

]]> http://lilithmoerk.wordpress.com/2009/11/16/overload/ Mon, 16 Nov 2009 11:26:46 +0000 mrs.blue http://lilithmoerk.wordpress.com/2009/11/16/overload/

I am overload by times of work and duties, money always under pressure

overload by daily life with a lot of ideas, visions, new inspirations

living with broken projects, end up adventures

have to go to rehab, really have to go, even if I don’t like to

overload and broken, young and underpaid

like dark, sad and grieving Amy

nasty put some clothe on

I told ya

don’t walk without your clothe on

I told ya

]]> http://lilithmoerk.wordpress.com/2009/11/13/positivenegative/ Fri, 13 Nov 2009 10:20:39 +0000 mrs.blue http://lilithmoerk.wordpress.com/2009/11/13/positivenegative/

Lilitha - Mrs.Positive

Lilitha - Mrs Negative

out of the dark

In stormy days I won’t lose the sail

still addicted to connect, to express ideas and to collect (most important things for artists)

blogging is the perfect way to go out with quick steps and to keep in notebook

Lilitha - 1E

Lilitha - E2

Wenn Engel hassen…

Lilitha - E3

Lilitha - E4

Lilitha - E5

Lilitha - E6

Lilitha - E6

Lilitha-her model, her artist

Wenn Engel hassen. Tja, wenn Engel hassen beginnen sie zu fotografieren.

Hey, Hey AAs!

To celebrate Halloween, I figured I’d post a spooky excerpt or two. This from my upcoming short story The Fascination: Swallow and Nightingale. It’s a tale of obsession, violence and obsession, and the failure of protection.

–

The beautiful Philomela likes to lie in her bed on Sunday nights with her knees bent up and listen to jazz while she reads art books without her glasses on. She holds the books very close to her face and smiles even with her silver eyes. Sometimes she even sings like a lost nightingale. Her hair is thick and springy, luxurious. She has narrow hips. Her arms and legs are long and lean. When she stretches one out and points her toes like a ballerina, he is filled with questions. She leaves the windows wide open, and though the screen is in tact, Terrence can smell her on the night air as he watches.

If the screen was not there, he could stretch out his hand and wrap a sorrel lock in his fist. He could pull her through. He could put a hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming. He could wait until she stilled and looked at him. He could see the recognition in her eyes and watch a smile part her soft, rosy lips. He could hold her to him so close that he would leave himself, dig into her, and coil inside her chest, beneath her ribcage surrounding her heart and expelling the poison inside of her. But, he could not. Could only return home and watch Pro as she slept and wonder if he could take that which coiled within her and sever its ties to her. He would keep it for himself, himself and Philomela. 

 –

Grayson Reyes-Cole

http://www.graysonreyescole.com

Much has happened since last I wrote, so much and yet it seems does it seem still seem that nothing ever really happens?

A brief summary – moved into my car – read The Aeneid, Metamorphoses, moved into castle , was in newspaper – yesterday came close to getting canned at the restaurant.

Had an idea to convey and started straying from it the moment I started to write – have been thinking better lately.

What do I think now? I wonder what the September 3rd entry was in reference to?

This journal spans aeons? Ages inches and I have a funny feeling I’m about to end up embarrassing myself – but since no one will know save for myself … I guess this is exactly one, precisely a, purpose of journals.

Reading The Curative Powers of Non-Dairy Creamer: An Holistic Approach. This book will change my life.

I can write about the noise of automobiles. The rattling of window panes. I can skim along the surface – but what about you, E? I want to be loved. But can I face the thought of loving someone? I think yes – but all the pressure built around – desire – attraction – repulsion, confusion, lust, fantasy, woman, seems to have eased, the desperation quieted.

I long to be in a silent place (existence) where the voices of people in the day-to-day treadmill would soon fade and disappear for good – those gnawing voices one is subjugated to over and over again at work  – or in other like environments, over and over again for months on end.

I should get some sleep so as not to be LATE again to work…

Florianópolis foi a primeira cidade brasileira a receber a apresentação do Balé Nacional de Marselha em 29 de setembro último. O espetáculo “Métamorphoses”, criado em 2007 para o Grand Théâtre de Luxembourg, se inspira livremente no texto homônimo de Ovídio, poema mitológico latino composto de 15 livros escritos nos anos 1 ou 2 depois de Cristo.

O cenário e o figurino da peça são assinados pelos irmãos brasileiros Fernando e Humberto Campana, enquanto a direção fica a cargo de Frédéric Flamand –  responsável pela companhia e pela Escola de Dança de Marselha. O Balé Nacional de Marselha foi fundado em 1972 por Roland Petit e é uma das mais celebradas companhias de dança do mundo.

O evento, parte das comemorações do Ano da França no Brasil, foi realizado no teatro Governador Pedro Ivo, no Centro Administrativo do governo do estado de Santa Catarina. Além de Florianópolis, o espetáculo foi apresentado em São Paulo (2, 3 e 4 de outubro), Rio de Janeiro (7) e Brasília (10 e 11).

Confira o Flickr oficial França.Br 2009. Para mais informações, acesse o site do Ministério da Cultura para o Ano da França no Brasil.

Heard Sonia Paço-Rocchia doing fun stuff with bassoon and MAX last week at a Forum Composers London concert. There’s a certain something about the bassoon: ‘It has the medieval aroma…’ according to Frank Zappa: ‘I can easily understand why a person could get excited about playing a bassoon. It’s a great noise — nothing else makes that noise.’

I enjoy the particular way its timbre changes through the registers. Sometimes it has a peculiarly vocal quality: something I’m looking at in a forthcoming revision of The River Daughter, which deals with Ovid’s account of the transformation of Daphne. Zoey Pepper is the singing bassoonist who handles the nymph-to-laurel-tree scenario here: I’m revisiting the parts where the identities of voice and bassoon start to blur…

Lilitha’s last question: are we human, or are we dancer?

MYsign

is vital, my hands are cold

and I’m on my knees

looking for the answer

are we human

or are we dancer ?

]]> http://oliviagiovetti.wordpress.com/2009/10/18/benvenuto-cellini-and-salvador-dali-walk-into-a-bar/ Sun, 18 Oct 2009 16:12:34 +0000 cultureonthecheap http://oliviagiovetti.wordpress.com/2009/10/18/benvenuto-cellini-and-salvador-dali-walk-into-a-bar/

Ovid count…8!

I love the intersection of opera and other forms of art.  Take, for instance, Lully’s Persée. Having been to both Barcelona and Florence, I remember Dali’s and Cellini’s sculptures of Perseus with the decapitated head of everyone’s favorite gorgon, Medusa (a “head” joke is too easy).  I also had the grand plaisir of seeing a Lully opera (finally!) thanks to Toronto’s Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra.  Lully has begun to click, and re-listening to him in October for brush-up is kind of the perfect seasonal complement to riding the N train from Queens to Brooklyn in 40 degree, golden sunny, turning-leaves weather.  It’s a weather I missed for two years in LA.

It’s funny, though, to see the cross-cultural interpretations of one Ancient Roman poet.  The first time I saw Cellini’s Perseus was when I saw Benvenuto Cellini at the Met in the winter of 2003; it was the Playbill cover (or it was in a painted reproduction).  I all but forgot about it until I moved to Italy in 2005 and went to Florence in the wee weeks of 2006.  It reminded me of the constrained ruthlessness of the Berlioz opera (which, at this rate, I’ll hit by the time I’m 30), something violent in the Baroque curvatures.

And then there’s Dali.  His sculpture reminds me of his moustache, loose, flowing, and yet stylized.  On my bohemian budget in Barcelona, I still thought about splurging on a lobster so I could answer it like a telephone and say “Hello?…Hello?…It’s for you.”  But the big M’s head in this sculpture looks close enough to a cellular crustacean.  And I’m already a bad enough Jew that one absence of shellfish is probably not the worst thing in the world.

But despite the veritable bloodbath that Cellini conjures up in his beheading of Medusa and the controlled chaos of Dali’s meditation on the same theme, Lully’s opera is downright soothing.  I still have the Netflix Red Envelope from when I had the DVD sent over in July, and before sending it back the other week, I popped it in one morning.  It was 5:00 am, I couldn’t sleep, and I figured I may as well get some work done on the supertitles I’m translating for Florida Grand Opera.  It was still pitch-dark out in Queens, and I think that’s what Lully needs.  There’s too much glitter onstage to compete with natural sunlight.  And even though that makes it hard to see sculptures, the dark does well to illuminate JB.

Lucius Apuleius, The Golden Ass

I think patience truly is a virtue. In general I would say I have more than my fair share of it and really can’t complain. It’s a common occurence, especially among others I know who work in high stress jobs, to have semi-regular pseudo-breakdowns over details that go awry, people who drive them completely up the wall with daily incompetencies, or a long and seemingly insurmountable list of tasks that must be completed.

This comes to mind in particular today since I’ve been reading Lucius Apuleius’ Metamorphoses, otherwise known as The Golden Ass; in particular the section concerned with the marriage of Cupid and Psyche. As a story it doesn’t contain much of Apuleius’ humour (which is seen throughout the book), but it does contain plot points that, had I been Psyche, I’m sure I would have just had sat down and laugh myself silly over.

The poor woman, though she’s been blessed with beauty that rivals that of Venus herself, is miserable throughout. First she is so beautiful (read goddess-like) that all men are scared to death to have anything to do with her beyond just standing there and gawking, somewhat creepily I might add. She can’t marry, which we know in all great past literature is the end goal of life for a woman, at least in the sexist, traditionalist way of looking at things. So she’s nothing but miserable. Venus hates her for shifting the spotlight from god to mortal. Psyche ends up lucking into (read plunges horribly into) a marriage with a god, Cupid no less. You’d think she’d be happy with this, but the arrangement falls utterly apart due to her own mistrust and silly habit of listening to her jealous sisters (another necessary relationship in great works). Left to roam the country looking for Cupid in order to persuade him to take her back, Psyche is on the run from Venus. Eventually she is caught/gives herself up and is tortured (because, really, Venus is a small and bitter deity) and given numerous tasks to complete, each with increasing difficulty that I imagine would take months to complete (though characters in antiquity tend to have a direct line to the underworld and manage the round trip in what seems like minutes). In the end she manages to complete her divine orders with some help and, when it’s all said and done, is rewarded for her trials and tribulations by chugging down a goblet of ambrosia and becoming a goddess herself. Tada!

If I had to jump through these hoops and live an entirely worthless life for as long as Psyche I would just have to laugh at it. How that much misfortune can make it into one person’s life is beyond me, but it is not beyond literature it seems. At this point I feel like speaking to Hardy’s Jude the Obscure, but even thinking about that is depressing. The patience needed to live through the ordeals of great literary works is truly divine. It’s a lovely touch to reward some of these characters (I can’t imagine poor Jude could get a break in any reality) as it brings a catharsis which is certainly relieving.

If nothing else I feel somewhat better about the impatience and lack of good luck I seem to be having at the moment. Anyone who says literature doesn’t provide therapeutic release needs to read more.

These days, people are tossing the word transformation around and pasting it on everything from baby diapers to “How to Write a Budget” workshops as the latest hypnotic marketing voodoo. The same tired products and ineffectual programs are becoming “transformative” this and “transformational” that, hoping to gain the allure of freshly brushed pearly whites just by adding that oh-so-enticing gleaming star of transformation. The result is that in most cases in which we talk about transformation, we’re actually opting for a hyped-up variation on change, or worse yet, a dull and impotent rendition of it. This wouldn’t matter so much except for the fact that actual transformation–otherwise known as “deep change”–happens to be what we really need.

Owing to my own transitions and subsequent learning in the past year, I’ve been carrying two recurring themes everywhere I go. (1) The need for a clear articulation of the difference between “change” and “transformation” and, (2) distinguishing what is required to have the latter. I point to the metamorphoses of caterpillar-to-butterfly and nymph-to-dragonfly to illuminate both the path of transformation and some of the lessons we can take from their journeys to light our own Way.

As one of the oldest insects existing, the near-mystical dragonfly once darted where dinosaurs roamed at ten times it’s current size. But that was when trees were towering and provided more nutrients, cover and oxygen. Since then, dragonflies have downsized from wingspans as great as 20-30 inches to the more nimble 2-3 inches of today. Though dragonflies almost never walk, they’ve reduced their symbolic and consumptive footprint to a tenth of what it once was in response to the decrease in resources. We have much to learn.

Just as unique as their ancient friends, butterflies capture our imagination as embodiments of beauty and freedom. Their youth as caterpillars are spent doing nothing but consuming everything they can. Their voracious appetites cause them to shed their skin repeatedly, but they just end up bigger, stronger, faster caterpillars. That’s change. In order to complete the metamorphosis into butterflies, caterpillars must create and enter the darkness of the chrysalis where they break down into a kind of genetic goop. Special cells, unsurprisingly called “formative,” direct the actual process of becoming a butterfly. Both the seed and evolutionary inclination to transform exists within. Before that happens though, caterpillars must literally experience partial death and a destruction of their current form as they know it. That’s transformation.

Like majestic Monarchs, if we really intend to achieve the beauty, power and freedom that is our birthright as a movement of people that seek justice for all, we need to go beyond ,or TRANScend, our current FORM as we know it.

Six Ways to Know Transformation

Here are six key points to help you recognize (and influence) when change becomes deep change…when it is transformation:

1. it can’t be undone: it can’t be undone: Unlike change, which can be undone with a shift in context or the swipe of a presidential pen, there’s no going back on transformation. The depth of change that takes place is so deep, rooted and resounding, that the former way of being is no longer possible. Though our prison system may suggest otherwise, the truth is that our current society can no longer bear slavery as we know it. Likewise, while institutional racism abounds, pre-Civil Rights segregation is essentially socially unacceptable. Our society has moved beyond these once common fundamental injustices.

2. it is neutral: As much as we’d like to believe otherwise, the reality is that we can have transformations, social and otherwise, that are neither life-affirming nor progressive. Think war-crime worthy Nazi Germany or occupation & bombing of Palestine. the transformation of those societies to allow heinous injustice to other human beings to be widely and popularly acceptable exemplifies transformation’s inherent neutrality. While transformation can’t be undone, a dangerous new can take the place of what came before without clear intention. The decisive question we must ask is “Transformation towards what?” If we want positive transformative outcomes, we must intentionalize and work toward them.

3. it is rigorous: To the naked eye, transformation often takes place at such a slow rate and on such a subterranean level, it is nearly imperceptible until you’re on the other side of it. But further investigation reveals a consistency and rigor to the process that is undeniable. Deep change requires deep practice. Simply put, we have to stay with it in order to see transformation through.

4. it is whole: Transformation must take place at all levels in order to be achieved. It isn’t enough to transform only ourselves as a slew of self-help and navel-gazing spiritual teachings may profess. People form organizations, organizations become institutions, institutions inform cultures, cultures give rise to whole societies. Through and through, we must weave the fabric of our movement culture with ways of being, knowing and doing that embody precisely how we want to see society transformed: into an equitable, sustainable and just place for all.

5. it always unfolds in the present: Transformation is both path and goal. While it appears that transformation has a beginning and end, we are always somewhere in the process of one cycle of transformation or another. But our current shape, where we are along the way, shows up in the NOW.Not in the past, not in the future: How we are showing up right now is the state of our transformation.

6. we don’t know what it looks like: This does not mean without intention. As affirmed earlier, a strong, aligned intention is not only desired but critical to affecting the overall direction of the process. However, if you can imagine the exact outcome, it’s more likely to be change than transformation because our vision is necessarily limited by our current perspective and conditions. At the point at which we surrender to the process of transforming, even our vision for desired outcomes dissolves into the “goop” which makes room for those formative aspects to direct our emergence into what we will become. So you want transformation, but are hell-bent on control? Um, not so much.

What’s In A Name? Ideally Everything

Finally, I submit that in naming and framing the new social movement that burgeons just beneath the surface of our everyday work for justice from Ithaca to Istanbul, we need a descriptor that embodies the principles of such a movement into the very name itself. More than any other movement that has come before, this one must embody it’s principles at all levels…including in it’s name. Thus we need an expression that is as much the path as it is the goal. A name that is now, not later. One that calls for us to be active, rather than passive; generative rather than prescriptive; a verb (action from inside) rather than adverb (qualified from the outside). The theory and ideas might be transformatIONAL, but the movement and its practice must be transformatIVE.

And more than political, it must be social. Yes, our politics (ways of governance of people,) systems, structures must undergo change–they must be brought into alignment with the values of our heart’s yearning, not our fear’s recoiling. Indeed, our government must be aligned with our deep need for connection rather than our contempt for difference.

But the reason for shifting the political landscape must be in service to the greater goal of shifting our social landscape (ways of being with people,) so that we can change the fundamental nature of our relationship to one another, to the planet, to the world and to life itself through the vehicle of a deep change in relationship to ourselves. In our society and in our hearts, we are still willing to use force–to bomb people into peace–thus empowering our government to do so. This, we must transform ourselves to no longer be able to bear.

I often muse that if the aquatic larva knew that it would one day leave its known realm to take to the sky, it would never, ever go, and transformation would be averted. But it is birthright that calls. In this Way, we have to allow ourselves to hear and respond to the evolutionary and revolutionary call that pulls us inexorably forward into becoming our newly formed selves–personally, politically, organizationally, institutionally, across all society–making room for a vision yet to be seen.

Right now, we must actively, generatively, take rigorous, intentional action towards wholly being that which we envision, and surrender to what we cannot. We must be so that we can become.

In it’s new form, the dragonfly can dive breathtakingly into a precipitous vertical drop, become a mere blur as it darts about at breakneck speeds, only to come to an apparent dead stop, hovering magically in mid-air. For the most part, it’s the sun that dragon and butterflies need to fly…but they need the dark to grow their magic wings. So do we. It is only once we emerge from the darkness that we will dare cast off our hardened shells to truly take flight.

Let’s do the darkness so that we can all fly together.

With gratitude to Robert, Staci, Steven, Adrienne, Zulayka, Claudia, Marie, the New Dharma Community and all my transformative teachers, mentors, students and friends–aKw

—

copyright MMIX. angel Kyodo williams

angel Kyodo williams is a maverick teacher, author, social visionary
and founder of Center for Transformative Change. she posts, tweets &
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Reportagem de Adriana Pavlova em colaboração para a Folha de São Paulo:

Aconteceu na sede do Ballet National de Marseille. Às voltas com a concepção do cenário e dos figurinos do espetáculo “Métamorphoses”, Humberto e Fernando Campana foram com o diretor da companhia, Frédéric Flamand, para o depósito que guarda criações de Versace, Yves Saint-Laurent e outros costureiros.

Eis que Fernando sai e vai ao jardim contemplar uma mangueira ao sol.

“Eles descobrem a beleza nos materiais mais banais”, diz Flamand. O espetáculo é a primeira incursão na dança dos designers brasileiros.

“Partimos de um texto de Ovídio que mostra as transformações dos mitos. A ligação com os Campana foi imediata”, diz Frédéric.

Em cena, o design da dupla surge em grandes dimensões. “Os anéis de aço inox manipulados pelos bailarinos são suportes de móveis, e há os mesmos elásticos da cadeira anêmona”, diz Humberto.

BALLET NATIONAL DE MARSEILLE – 12 anos
Sexta, 02.10.2009, às 21h30
Sábado, 03.10.2009, às 21h
Domingo, 04.10.2009, às 18h
Teatro Alfa
R. Bento Branco de Andrade Filho, 722, (11) 5693-4000
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