been there, donne that

the other night i met some people. in a sparsely-populated room, i sat and listened to two proud fathers shouting across the hollow room to each other. it was breeder-fest 2004, man. they shouted about first steps, first words, first teeth.
"oh well mine..."
"yes and mine..."
"sure and mine..."
mine mine mine.
oof.
all i could do was think these poor kids need a holiday and they're not even 1 yet! or maybe they're dirty little over-achievers: republicans and entrepreneurs. either way, i wanted to find them and get them high, tell them it's ok to relax, sit back and enjoy it all.

although i guess it's probably inappropriate to get infants high.
pity, that whole lung rot and brain cell bursting thing.

i had to ask myself what the fuck i was doing there. once again, i was the outsider looking in, still happier in my own little world than theirs. but hell i was there, so i went and found myself a conversation. within a few random words, i was unanimously outvoted on the validity or merit of free verse (poetry). i shrugged, shut down and let them blessedly change the conversation. i bet they would have argued ignorance, and i would have agreed; of course a big part of why i find Donne pretty and (yawn) quaint is because i only see his words superficially. i don't understand or try hard enough to fully grasp the metaphysical wisdom in his writing. but then surely i could use the same argument: it is without doubt that they look upon free verse as trite because they're failing to see beyond the surface into the radical wisdom or sweeping beauty therein.

pf, free verse like tennis without a net. oh yea? take that! and that! and that!

furthermore, i don't expect them to like free verse. but to say all free verse is "like playing tennis without a net" is just as ignorant as someone saying Donne sucks. i don't like Donne, but that doesn't mean i don't respect his work.

i think that's a wisdom i've earned. an example: there was a time when i thought abstract art and jazz were pretentious: purposefully convoluted to condescend and ostracize. and i hated both. and then eventually, i just sort of got it. i let down my barriers and pre-conceived notions and saw jazz or surreal or abstract art for what it was (rather than in contrast to something i already knew) and i grew to not only appreciate it, but love it. in fact, in a few months i'll be getting a tattoo of miró's art on my arm - an ode to being allowed to change one's mind and to grow.

i ended up running out of there as soon as i could. my last half hour had been drowned in mental screams of "you don't have to be anywhere you don't want to be!", my pores clenched in a panic for freedom. kind of a bit melodramatic, really, but it's how i felt...