that the tower that I built

was afraid of lazy rot

and stood on just one stilt?

its foundation had long failed

and the roots were creeping in

but still the tower strained

against Nature’s cruelest whims

Her branches invaded the floorboards

a crime of violence and finesse

their woody claws grasping uselessly

unfurling in duress

they slithered along the mouldings

and lumbered up the walls

they clung grimly to the rafters

staring down upon the hall

And when they cracked the gables

and meekly kissed the air

they dreamt of being able

to reach higher than they dared

But they could climb no higher

than the whipping winds allowed

So they took up their own residence

greenly rooting in the clouds

Now their leaves turn vibrant auburns

in an homage to the Sun

And their crying veins shine brightly

A living, dying pun

And still the leaves stretch higher

Grasping vainly towards the Moon

One withers atop the spire

One leaf, One life, Too soon.

E.M.

An improv/guided jazz jam I did when my friend left his recording equipment over at my place. I need to get some more recording stuff!

I was volunteering at the ASUO Street Fair, checking in on vendors, when I came across the “Holistic Consulting” tent. I popped my head in and asked the middle aged, red haired woman inside if she needed anything. Cheerily, she said she was fine, thanks very much. Removing myself, I noticed she had a sign reading “Free Brain Efficiency Exams” posted on the outside of her tent. Intrigued, I asked her what that might be. She simply asked “Do you want to find out? It might change your life.” With a claim like that, I curiously stepped inside. Upon closer inspection, she was quite the sagely woman. She had the aura of Eugene all around her, and was very quick in her thoughts and movements. After running a series of tests to determine my “brain side-edness” and other physical/mental connections (hand/foot/eye/ear dominance), she got into the really interesting stuff. Now a disclaimer: While I do my fair share of hippy-dippy existential wanderings and holistic ponderings, I don’t put much faith into the stuff, but the next course of tests really got me thinking. “Hold out your right hand,” she said, “and touch your thumb and pinky together like you were holding a $20 bill between them.” I complied. “Now, say ‘My name is Erik’”. As I did, she grasped my clenched fingers and tried to pull them apart. They remained firmly together. “Now,” she said, “say ‘My name is Susan’”. To my surprise, my fingers, which I held together with the same strength as before, readily separated. She explained that the reflexes of the muscles and the mind are interconnected, and what the mind believes is strong (the truth) is connected to the muscles, which receive that strength and communicate it outwardly. When I had said the first phrase, that my name is Erik, my mind knew it was true, and strengthened my fingers. The false phrase brought about the opposite.

Ok, good enough. But now here’s where it gets weird, and very telling. “Say: ‘I want to be well’,” she said to me. To my surprise, she easily pulled my fingers apart. “Now: ‘I want to be sick’.” My fingers remained firmly together. “I want to succeed.” Separation. “I want to fail.” Together. Obviously, I was shocked. How could my brain put more significance towards sickness and failure than success and health? Then it hit me. Maybe I don’t like to be perceived as successful and healthy. Whenever I succeed or do something amazing, I cast myself down and say ‘Oh, it wasn’t that good,’ or something similar. Rarely do I relish my successes. Maybe I am looking for empathy, or maybe I’m just that type of person. Who knows. She continued on, to try to find the base of my problems. Look at me, getting a free psychiatric evaluation. Maybe I need a real one. She pulled quickly on my fingers as she asked me questions (i am paraphrasing here) “When did this feeling of abandonment start?” “(‘Conception to 10′: together. ‘Conception to 5′: apart. ’5 to 8′: together. ’5 to 6′: together. ’5′:apart. ’6′:together.) “Tell me about yourself when you were 6,” she told me. Stammering, I couldn’t remember much. Then I remembered my horrible overbite, and how I was teased about it. We discussed this for a bit, and then repeated the test, coming up with another age of 8 in response to a different group of questions. This was the age when Patrick moved in 3rd grade, and I lost my best friend. She thought I felt like I failed and was abandoned because I couldn’t do anything to stop him from moving, and struggled to make new friends afterwards. Which was completely correct. From that point in my life, I’ve had trouble making good, solid new friends. It is rare that I entrust my friendship in someone completely, and even to this day, I can’t honestly say I’ve opened myself up completely… to anyone. Ever.

She explained the science behind it all also. “As a right brained person,” she said, “you have difficulty with visual things. Since your left brain controls your right hand, and you are right brained, in order to for the hand to function, a signal must be sent from the right hemisphere to the left, down to the hand. All of this extra movement translates into a lot of lost energy.” This made sense. I’ve never had that great of handwriting, and I’ve never been a stellar illustrator. She repeated the finger test, having me count, and then do the alphabet. I was strong in the alphabet and weak in numbers, which explains my propensity for writing, and hatred of math. My focus is weak, which makes sense. My breathing is strong, which, strangely, is bad, because it leads me to hold my breath in times that I should be flexible, such as falling asleep. This would explain my insomnia.

It was a strange experience, to say the least. Generally, I don’t prescribe much importance to ‘holistic’ medicines, but a lot of this just made too much sense to be a coincidence. The finger pulling was the strangest thing. I say something that I believe is true, but receive the opposite result. My subconcious knows that it was in fact false. I guess you can fool others, but you can’t fool yourself. Knowledge is power, though.

Upon hearing that her 3 hour consulting sessions were $180 though, as a poor college student, I immediately crossed it off my list and exited her tent, armed with the new self-knowledge I had gained. Maybe my subconcious will have some new thoughts to ponder, and use this new fodder to rebuild itself in a new way.

I’ve got a few choices to make for the next school year. Obviously, I’m going to do classes, duh. I’ve got all of my pre-reqs done now, so it’s going to be a pretty sparse schedule, just like this term. That leaves room for a lot of other things. I’d like to continue doing Flux, and maybe be a writer or researcher, or multimedia producer. I don’t really want to do that much web, even though I’m kind of getting the hang of it, and it’s almost starting to become enjoyable. I don’t want to pinhole myself into a ‘web’ guy. Though I’m scared I might have done that already. Oh dear….

Then there’s the issue of housing. I like my room here, I guess, but I just don’t feel right in this house. It doesn’t feel ‘good’. It’s constantly dirty, and just feels bad and unhealthy. I really want to continue living with Dan though. Jesse in the future maybe, but he’ll be in Portland for the year while I’m down here and who knows what will happen during that time…. Maybe in the future, we could all live together.

One step at a time.