I am Galileo, I am Copernicus.

The other day I was musing about myself and how I try to be smart. It's odd, even in the 21st century, to try to be very smart and be a woman.  Even this past week I was being a fashion diva. For some reason women, especially women, feel that being attractive is a certain antithesis to intelligence or even virtue. I can understand it for modesty, but I read somewhere once that it is also immodest to try to degrade yourself. You cannot be a genius and be all, "I wouldn't want to trouble anyone with my thoughts." No, that wouldn't be very good at all. It is also a lie, as it is a cheat.

I really love clothes and have since I was very young. If I were ever really motivated I would write a book on clothes, just everything about what they mean to me. The psychology, the acts of defining oneself, the artistry, the beauty and history. The magic. If I went to a fashion school I am sure I would be just as thrilled in a history class as one that puts on the bows. There's definitely genius there. Weaving, beading, lacing, lace. (That's a little poem waiting to happen, darn Robert Louis Stevenson) Now I'll have to make a picture!

I used to have a book of poems by Robert Louis Stevenson that was poster sized, it is mysteriously missing. I will give a look around but I don't remember seeing it in a while. 

Which finally brings me to the topic which drove me to write today. Poetry. 

This week has been a very interesting one, after writing about my poetic ambitions, perhaps I will talk shortly about some of my ideas I've had, since I've been so bored with no television. My daughter has it in her room. 

Last night was really cool. I felt like I was a teenager again in a field somewhere beneath the stars. Then I started to try and actually make a memory come back, so I could really understand what I was feeling. It was very hard to define. So I was swamped with ideas, because that happens to me sometimes when it's very late at night and I wish to G** I were sleeping soundly. 

There was at first the thought of when this place might be. And then, for lack of sleep, my imagination began to take the pilot seat. I wondered if something that felt so pure and lively were not something that had a place not just geographically, but outside time, directionally but not physically. 

There is a philosopher who I tried desperately to read once because his ideas were sort of at first sight in line with mine. I had believed for a while, and maybe I still kind of do, that just as people have a sort of spirit about them, so do places. Atlanta has a very familiar feeling to me sometimes, something that was rich years ago but has been diluted with excess population growth. L.A. has a feeling to me in memory, as does Memphis. And this man, his name being Hegel, in his "Philosophical History", was so hard to read I spent several days hurting myself trying to make believe he felt like I did about places having their own spirits. And he may even have said that, but I wouldn't know. And that is what I got for all my effort. 

But that didn't stop me last night from wanting to write about Hegel and his contemplations of the spirits of places. I was going to write it out in a sonnet! I thought it might be something creative to do! Now that it's been a while and I slept on it, I'm blogging it out instead. Probably better to just admit I don't know about Hegel after all.

I decided then that under the stars is a place. It is a place without time, somewhat infinite with a spirit of it's own. And that was very beautiful to me. It would have made a lovely sonnet. Oh well. Shakespeare would have rocked it. 

To be, or not to be there, being under the stars is still kind of like that tree falling in the forest. There IS a sound. There the ground will be down and the sky will be up, and if we do not picnic and don't share a cup, still there are grasses that grow very tall, and flowers to pick, and frosts come the fall. (Genius)

This past week I made some interesting discoveries. I picked up a book that I've had a couple of years, at least, and learned things. Shocking as that is. I learned about the first woman responsible for writing something in the English language. She was a hermit. She saw visions of God as she lay dying, and then she recovered and wrote about them.

 For some reason I wrote some questions out that at the time seemed genius but now I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sure it stemmed from politics. I'm extremely curious about human nature in these times of complete foolishness. It may be the most foolish generation of all existence! The reason being that there is so much knowledge available to every living soul (not necessarily, but practically!) and yet they live as though knowing is an evil, that being peaceful is a loss. That freedom and justice are the natural order? Um...? This is not possible, the foundation of law, our systems of justice, are built on delivering us from other men's evils.

This woman made fun of me, reading. She mocked me. Called me smart. I could of kicked her, I digress.

But see my two page spread! Isn't

it marvelous!

You tell me what I was thinking?

I even figured out what narcissism is. 

I actually looked up Hermes last night because I saw the name. It's really expensive stuff but also all this interesting other stuff, too. For instance, Hermes was a Greek God! And not only that, being known for being elusive, as was his character, he was a big part of Jungian theory because it dwelt on the subconscious mind. I was interested, once again, in Mr. Jung. (I read about him in a book and he did some groundbreaking work on dreams) 

As far as Galileo and Copernicus are concerned, they believed in a time of supposed concreteness in something novel they had witnessed which they could not deny. The words of the philosopher are, "it seemed to the wisest that it was temerarious even to dare to think one could guess by what laws the heavenly bodies move and how light works" .. and here we are in such a time as this, again, where we are able to find the use of all elements, and yet it is without the ability to grasp beyond our small minds. 

My for instance, and then I guess I will be done. My daughter and I were having dinner and she asked me which element was the most powerful. And I said electricity. She had wanted me to pick between water and fire. (Like the old-timers, water air fire earth) But no, I said, electricity is the most powerful (as everyone knows who has ever seen Back to the Future) Well, she got angry, got up and stormed away. And I did one of those numbers where I sort of took self righteous bites of my food. But I'm sure I'm right. Because we named elements so long ago, no one knew then what electricity is. But it is definitely an element. 

What is written will, in time, become changed, but will also become clear. *This means that things change but we get where we were coming from.

That is all.

          (He must have been some kinda smart to live that long)