Sometimes you have to let go of the things you thought were precious to you, sometimes it’s the only way to be free of all the nonsense and to move forward…
The Private Digi-logs of Vresta M’Ogano: The Discovery
The Private Digi-logs of Vresta M’Ogano: The Invitation
The Private Digi-logs of V’resta M’Ogano: Preparation and Training
Let me know what you think so far.
Now clear your head, step into the week like you’re stepping into the ring!
As one grows older, as a result of having seen a good deal of life, shouldn’t one also grow wiser, perhaps struggle to become a better human being, leaving behind old prejudices, greed and vengeance and begin, if one has not begun already, to look to one’s own development as a human being, to grow in understanding… That is if one is interested in becoming more fulfilled from the inside out…
A young person is often influenced by friends and family, teachers and mentors. However, at some point during their existence shouldn’t a person become capable of thinking clearly and develop the ability to make up his or her own mind about fundamental things that include knowing the difference between right and wrong… Okay, whatever… People don’t really care about that, is the resounding response....
Growth, development, maturity…
Perhaps our problem stems from the lack of elders in our society… At one time, rather than learning about life online, through social networks, we looked to a small group of older folk who had, through experience and a certain talent for leading others, grown in wisdom… They simply knew stuff, taught us useful skills and shared their wisdom through the telling of stories––funny, sad and awe-inspiring tales about those who came before, the legends of their adventures and battles, failures and successes… Through these stories, we learned about the world around us and we learned about ourselves…
Our elders were not just a bunch of old people for whom we had no respect, they imparted a form of wisdom that helped us to grow into more complete individuals… Whether or not we agreed with their position on ideas, or believed the amazing stories they told, didn’t matter, what mattered was the fact that we caught a glimpse of history through their eyes and added it to ourselves and to who we were… Much later on, if we had grown in wisdom and had the talent for it, one or two of us from the next generation, might, in turn, become members of the group of elders ...
Grandpa’s busy getting high and chasing women half his age…
Our elders have a duty to teach us morals, decent values, help us learn skills that might otherwise be lost, and we, in turn, have a duty to ensure their position as respected elders in our society… Maybe grandpa would never have become an elder in the old world… But to be sure, in the modern landscape, we rarely get the chance to find out…
Our elders are grouped in with everybody else of a certain age group, those known as the elderly… and have become invisible… No-one wants to hear their stories, no-one wants to share their wisdom… We have lost something in recent times…
Just watch the bad behavior of people, whom we are supposed to respect, on the news…
Of course, when grandma is only thirty-five years old and more interested in shaking her thang on the dance-floor than imparting wisdom to the little ones, and you live hundreds, maybe thousands of miles away from grandpa who is busy getting high and chasing women half his age… And, anyway, even if that wasn’t his M.O., you wouldn’t have the time for his weird rantings about when he was young…
Who is learning from the garbled chatter filling the air...?
Something has definitely been lost.... Who knows where the blame lies, perhaps with all of us––society as a whole, all talking simultaneously, all attempting to be heard at the same time, but who is doing the listening, who is learning from the garbled chatter filling the air… The world is noisier than ever and it is clear that technology having become the new soul of man plays its part…
It isn’t just about older family members being ignored, but older members of the community in general, some of whom should have become our elders… Something has gone missing inside the continuity of our species… Without our elders, the wise ones, we stop moving forward and start going in ever-devolving circles.
If we have not taken the time to learn and to grow as individuals, how much wisdom can we possibly impart to the next generation? Without wisdom, what happens to the next inheritors of this world?
...although, if we are fortunate, we can fix most of our errors, some mistakes cannot be rectified…
She was fast approaching the conclusion that faith is not a straight line, unless one is steadfast and clear and willing to take that risk, to step out to the edge and travel beyond the doubts… to support another in their pursuits, perhaps… in the full knowledge that one knows nothing about what lies in the distance…
That faith and willingness to trust in one to whom she felt she owed her very breath, one person, that had plucked her from the road to self-annihilation on which she had traveled for so long, and set her down on a clearer path. The sign posts she had been seeking were pointed out and she began slowly, gradually, untangling the maze of confusion that had, so far, defined her existence.
She had begun emptying her cup, which had been overflowing with murky waters and reclaimed that which was hers, filtering the dreams, redefining her reality, she stepped out to the edge to look over into the immeasurable, her eyes wide with wonder, her heart filled with awe… The one in whom she had placed her faith was forever by her side trusting and trusted, tangible and intangible, moving at great speed and immovable…
Her endeavors, though altered beyond recognition were yet unchanged… Feelings, she reminisced, in pure sensation wrapped, forever alternating within frequencies dictated by her surroundings… She had faith in the real, unreal, ideological foundations of truth from which creativity is conceived… Maintaining a fluid dialogue in a state of consciousness had become the norm…
She walked and ran and talked and studied and expressed without a single thought of specifics… Knowledge, clarity, passing years… Time indulging her hunger, swallowed down in great gulps… Changed and yet unchanged she maintained her faith, building upon it, following its ebb and flow… cognizant of the sign posts, to form a straight line on the meandering path, rocky and smooth, to which there is no end…
~ A Matter of Faith
An Abstraction
by Annyash B. Arriffe
©2010 Annyash760. All Rights Reserved.
Gaultier, Steffi Schüetze
Steffi Schüetze is a talented illustrator from Berlin, Germany that I came across while browsing the Drawn! illustration site, some months ago.
I love Steffi’s use of vectors to create clean, colorful interpretations of runway fashion. She has a blog where she usually uploads a copy of the original reference photo along with a pencil sketch and the finished work.
She also has an illustration website at: www.nusillu.com where you can take a look at her caricatures, comics, portraits and other work. It’s built in Flash, so keep in mind that you may not be able to view it on your shiny new and magical iPad.
“Cure your insanity, before it is too late,”
My Grandmother said to me one day,
Pointing at a man in the street, bend with age,
At a woman wheezing from excess weight,
“You will be old before your time and heavy with doubt,
If you wait too long to listen.
Look into yourself and find out who you are,
Find a reason for your existence.”
I looked at my mother, “Listen,” she said.
I looked at my father, “Truth,” he said.
In my Grandmother’s face I beheld the spark of youth,
Glittering eyes still full of wonder, skin smooth and dark,
Limbs still firm and sure, that I had so taken for granted,
She turned to me and smiling said:
“Cure your insanity and you may have a chance in this world
To do that which most believe they will achieve in the next,
Do not allow your youth to betray you,
It is but so temporary a thing, so transitory in nature,
That you will awaken one day and find it gone,
Lost like a memory, just out of reach,
Like a town to which you are traveling, but never arrive,
And you will forever be searching for that town called Youth
For the things it allowed you to do,
But which in your insanity you overlooked,
Cure yourself, before it is too late...”
~ Listen…
Free Verse Poem - Excerpt
By Annyash B. Arriffe
© 2010 Annyash760. All Rights Reserved.
