This Location

For Those With Ears

2007-04-14T10:31:00.000-07:00

i am beginning to realize that this blog is not the best way for me to express my thoughts to a public forum. i have much that turns inside of me, but i'm not sure it's all something that others want to read or things that i think i want to be so open about. if i decide to create an alter ego or something that i am settled on believing in strongly enough to write about, i may start again. but for now, i will write my thoughts at home.

until then,

j.louviere

Death and Dying

2007-04-07T13:39:00.000-07:00

i went to visit my grandmother and grandfather last week. we call them "grandmother" and "pop". they are both in their mid 80's and "health" has been on the agenda for the last few years. they have been saying lately that all of their friends are dying or are dead. i've thought that that has to be a bit challenging, mentally. neither of them are very active and any activity they would like to begin is often halted by an injury; setting them back a few weeks until the next injury or sickness. it has to be frustrating. but, seeing so many of their friends die has got to get old. to see your friends, in their case, at church and around the neighborhood, and then to just not see them any more. they say their community has been slowly dwindling down. not many friends that are still alive. this has been part of our conversation for about 5 years now.

i haven't had many friends die. in high school, lance died of cancer. he got it in the leg and it spread or something and then we were all at his memorial. i cried a little bit, but mainly was just confussed and sad and wondering why i wasn't sad enough to cry more than i was. not sure i was as close to lance as some of his other friends. in my mid 20's i worked at a camp. and so did shannon. shannon's mom was dying of cancer and she asked me to come and pray for her. i was an intense, "faith-filled" young lad at the time but a little worried about the proposition. i went nonetheless. her mom walked for the first time in 3 months and we all saw it as a mini miracle; her mom died the next month. in college, trey died because he killed himself. he was a christian and was gay and had aids . . . he struggled to make them all fit together. i liked trey a lot. ironically, and as a side note, trey was the first massage i ever gave to someone (not knowing i would go on to be a massage therapist). it was on laguna beach. i knew trey was gay and that i was not. but it was all such a spontaneous thing. it's just how i was / and sometimes still am. afterwards, though, i was given a life directing compliment from trey : "that was the frst time i have been touched by a man in such an intimate way that had no sexual conotations to it. it was just safe." i've thought about that from time to time when i work on clients nowadys, who come from so many varying backgrounds and just need "safe touch" . . .

my grandfather, on this visit, joked that he was looking forward to a "back rub", but when i put out the invitation to actually receive one, he declined. my grandparents have never been all that physical with us and it's strange to want to give them touch as they are getting older. "safe touch" even. it's just uncomfortable for them. i spose their getting older and potentially dying is a little uncomfortable for me as well. our differences feel unfinished to me. like there is much i need to work on in my own head / heart. but this brings up the topic of "family" and family dynamics that i may tackle in a later note. but enough for now.

Math And Muscles

2007-03-24T21:22:00.000-07:00

talked with a friend today about a lot that has been going on. hard conversation. she is part of the "community" that i am leaving. but she is also part of the "greater community" that will be remaining in my life. part of that "nomadic community" that i mentioned before.
overall, it was good to talk with her. she's even more etherial that i am. she is able to examine the nature of "god" with liberal strokes i haven't even thought of yet. we discussed the possiblity of god simply being math. reason being : math is one of the only things in our world that you can know for sure. it is always true; neither good nor bad. just right. i was like, "i'm weird, but god is math?" i shrugged my shoulders and was like, "sure. i'm up for anything these days . . . wacko."
but she may have a point. math seems to comprise all that is in the known world. i did bring up the idea of the feelings of "connection" that i feel with some people and not with others; is that math? is that god? can one create emotions simply by puting numbers together? just sounds a bit far fetched. but i'm open.

in other news, i have decided to remain in my field of study and practice. i am a muscular skeletal therapist (of sorts) under the umbrella of "massage therapy". i'm just facinated with functional anatomy and how people can find greater balance in their bodies through postural/structural changes. as well as the mind/body connection we all have (decisions, emotions, breathing); and what effect that has in helping create those postural/stuctural changes. i'm currently going through about 4 or 5 coures to renew my lisence. some of the books are lame. some are very inspiring. but i do know that in the future i will need to find some complimentary modalities to what i do; i work prety damn hard (physically) to get the results i get. just wears a guy down after a while. i'm sure other stuff will begin to fall into my path as i continue to look.
i am interested (in the future) in looking into what some call "energy" work. i like it and it also scares me. it's feels less like math. less certain. more up for interpretation. that's difficult for me. i like results you can count on. but if i'm honest with myself, i know that, in large part, "energy" work is already within the work that i do. it's just not the focus. and i'm sort of uncomfortable confessing it; mainly because the field of "massage" is already filled with a bunch of nut jobs and very few strangers who come to you want to hear that you're "moving energy" or anything like that. so, telling them that we are working on becoming more aligned (structurally / posturally) just feels more safe.
may the journey continue . . .

[i am detecting the slightest hint of hopefulness as i am writing this. it's a feeling i haven't had in some time. spooky. like math.]

wine, t.v. and 28 years of age

2007-03-19T19:56:00.000-07:00

to those who have been reading, thank you. everyone wonders if their voice is heard.
s'pose if i did not receive any feedback, i would continue to write. i just love to write. i do not like to wake up for much in the morning; but if i know i will be writing, i'm up. i'm attem. nuff said.

i am, although, writing less for this blog. and it's all a practicality thing. i just don't have access to the internet. but i will later in april. and you can know that i will do my darndest to fill your minds with prolific filth and interesting wanderings of a searching young man. did i say young? i feel young. s'pose i feel 28ish. something like that. but i'm a ll' bit older than that.

sorry, the wine is typing for me tonight. light weight. one glass and a full meal and i'm typing
all
over
the place.

you ever write and then read back over it and think, "this is reading NOTHING like how i was thinking when i was writing it." my mind is usually some far and distant place with great ideas and pictures running through it and all you get (as a reader) is: s'pose i feel 28ish." what the . . .

we will just chock tonights entry to being scattered by a number of pressing thoughts that i haven't the strength to put aside for the time being. they nock nock on my door and wish for me not to ignore them. so, i will go downstairs and watch a little more t.v. (like a good little soldier) and put it all off until the morning.

To The Other Side

2007-03-10T07:35:00.000-08:00

my divorce from my faith is a grueling and difficult one. it has so many cultural implications for me. it's like removing a vine from branches. they are so intertwined; culture and faith. but the vine is the weed that grew in my own heart. i have, over time, evolved into someone i do not respect. in the name of "belief"; in the name of "faith". dipite my best efforts.

maybe it's all bad luck. maybe it's good luck. "who is to say what is right or what is wrong," the Taoist would say. maybe it's all the cosmic lesson that is laid out for me in particular. you know, the accumulation of events can often times spell out a larger picture than the individual ones themselves. mine has been one of continuing to wrestle and fight to understand, to see, to explore the notion of "freedom". to hopefully find others who are willing to explore this "unsafe" ground. to dialogue honestly. this is the journey i choose to continue on.

my history with the faith i have followed has been riddled with isolation. maybe i expected too much from the communities i surrounded myself with. maybe i hoped for a sense of belonging and that was not what they were intended for. maybe it's not what I was intended for. i find, at this stage, that i need to be in the company of others who don't preport to being loving or inspired or able to help others. but just people being people. i have only ever found this on an individual level. the corporateness of a community seems to breed a life of it's own that im not sure i was intended for.

those who find peace in this life are to be envied. if even for their naivety. much less for their sure fire belief in what they know. more power (rather peace) to them all. this has not been my lot for as long as i have wanted for it to be.

so, out on the road i go. i left in anger once before. that's just never a good way to leave anything or anyone. my leaving feels like an few decades of sheer disappointment. there is a real sense of the "lesson" not quite being understood (on my part), but i know of no other direction to go, but away from these communities i continue to surround myself with; that continue to disappoint.

ten bucks says i find myself looking for more "communities" to heal this wound. a small voice tells me that it's in the individuals that i find myself around that will "guide the way". they are my community. a greater community of nomads, of wanderers; heart of my heart. flesh of my flesh.

Wanting To Fly

2007-03-09T09:36:00.000-08:00

sun is finally out again here in my town. but out in a way that is beginning to feel a bit like spring. the kinda day you turn the heat down in your home because it's just too damn warm. winter has been long this year. some go by faster than others. this was a long one.
dispite the sun being out and all the spring talk, i am still quite tired. i'm at the tail end of 13 days of doing massage. truthfully, i'm a bit depressed and uninspired. but i want to keep trying. in many ways. just lacking in believing that any of it is worth it. work, art (music, writing, singing), where i live, friends . . . everything seems in flux.
i haven't been much for reading these days but i have part of an old poem in my mind. it's beautiful and tragic all at once. i'm feelin' it.
"my heart is sore pained within me . . . . oh, that i had the wings like a dove! for then i would fly away and be at rest. then would i wander far off and remain in the wilderness. i would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest."

Beauty Restored

2007-02-28T19:18:00.001-08:00

MeRa is like a voice i knew when i was a kid. she called me today, just to say hi. i was taken back. it felt good. i began to remember who i am. who i want to be. who i've always been. with such unfamiliar territory i am navigating, a familiar voice is good for the soul. thanks Mera.
j.

Hard Times

2007-02-28T08:25:00.000-08:00

like many of you out there, i pay a guy to sit and listen to my past and present and to help me make some sense of it all. i like him . . . as much as you can like a guy you pay to listen to you. anyway, he has recently given me an assignment to write about my parents. and whereas this may be easy for some of you, i've created an art out of fudging my own story (in song). writing things that are somewhat true; but hopefully more true for you than for me. i found some inspiration last night; writing both words and music (rare these days) and decided to let you in on the creativity. maybe it's nothing; maybe it's something. we'll see. i will hopefully learn how to attatch audio files soon enough, but for now, here's the lyrics: it's called Hard Times

Hard Times
wish you were there
i danced like lightning
i looked for you
but you got tied up at work . . . or something

wish you were there
my last day of school
i worked so hard
(to make you) proud of me

Hard times keep falling
On the good and the bad
Hard times they keep falling
Making everyone sad
Hard times they keep falling

you held my hand
when i was a babe
then you let go
that was the last time . . .

i've been hoping (hope on)
for so long
i 've been holding (hold on)
for some sign of you . . .

when i grow up
you will be there
or at least in my mind
and photographs i've carried (from year to year)

Hard times keep falling
On the good and the bad
Hard times keep falling
Making me sad
Hard times keep falling

i'm still thinking about revisions to the chorus (try to give it a little cheer; if at least not from a slight angle). but for now . . . here ya go.

j. louviere

Songwriting

2007-02-24T08:18:00.000-08:00

ellis paul has a website (ellispaul.com) with a function "raidio free ellis" - just a constant stream of music (his own). he's a great songwriter and has been around for a long while. this is a picture of him that i found on flickr. (btw, so easy to upload pics to this site. cool.)

songwriting. i'm always getting back around to it. seasons of lift "off the ground"; seasons (like now) of drudgery and feeling too busy. but i've always lived by a little mantra : just keep investing. it's not the song itself. it's the collection. it's what the collection does to you. who you become because of it, through it, despite it. the larger themes that only a broad span of work can show.

writing a song comes quite natural to me and, being a bit of a work-aholic and perfectionist, it can feel like i'm not putting in the effort that i should. i put plenty of effort in a lot of the songs i've written. i guess it's just different effort than the effort i expend at "work". with writing, you can be forever kicking something around in your head; singing in the shower. trying new lines, new verses, a whole new thought for a bridge. only to decide to keep what you had before. familiar themes. familiar vocal stylings. sting (of the band . . . sting (weird) - formerly of the best band ever; the Police [can you believe their reuniting!?) - anyway, sting said in some video i saw that he doesn't like to play the same song the same way twice. 'has a real value in trying to continue to shape and keep it creative. i took hold of this thought many years ago. for better or for worse. but it gave me a love for interpretation, spontaneity, and the "live" performance. there are pluses and minuses of every approach. if you're hold to "change" and you insist on spontaneous and inventive over a long period of time, then possibly "change" is same o'' thing you've always known. i love johnny cash for the very opposite reason; because with his themes, some things just never change. and i like it that way. but something else calls in me. and for this reason, on the 18th day, God created jazz. to me, the value is in taking something old and making it new, in this moment. a perpetual sense of taking what was and what could be and making it new, right now. i love that too.

i feel like i belong with songwriting more than i belong to anything else in this world. well, maybe a close second to just sitting and sharing thoughts with a friend or two. that's good stuff too.

j.

Lost Soul

2007-02-23T19:08:00.000-08:00

Life has thrown me a number of curves lately (in addition to the many previous pitches i have swung at and whiffed), and i cannot bring my head/heart back around to understand or rest with it. and this has all lead me to a pretty scary place. a place of uncharterd territory. but i have to be honest when i say, i don't know where i am going in life (or after). i wrote a friend the other day and found myself telling him that i feel like a genuine "lost soul". i identify with this phrase lately. my whole way of thinking and approach to life has been turned upside down and shaken. i don't know where to turn. i think, in part, this is why i began this blog.

when i was younger, my early twenties, i knew exactly where i was going, what i was doing, and especially, what i was supposed to be doing. i took many risks in the name of what i felt was "right" and what brought "libery" (to others and myself). and as broken as i may feel i can sense Life asking me to continue risking. doesn't Life understand that i'm tired?! that i want some sympathy right about now and not a lesson on how to get back up? a little cuddle time with Life itself? Life seems deaf to this request. no, to me, Life is an animal with an animal instinct. i used to think that Life was compassionate. but i'm pretty sure i was quoting what i wanted to believe rather than what i truly believed. i am starting to believe that Life says, "wrestle Me! and if you die in the process, i will pour you a beer in the afterlife and share with you my thoughts.

i loved wrestling when i was kid.

j. louviere

Tired

2007-02-22T21:28:00.000-08:00

i know i won't have time in the AM to write again, so i am writing in my tired stupor before my bath and a late diner.
i'm tired. damn tired. i'm a god damn perfectionist and it's wearing me out. i'm about done being a perfectionist. just about.
j.

God, the Universe, Whatever

2007-02-22T11:05:00.000-08:00

when i was young i wanted to be a minister. yeah, i thought i knew what that was and what that looked like; what i was supposed to do and say, etc. much as changed since then. i found far too many discrepencies with it all. not so much with the Bible or the origins of faith, etc; more with what the whole thing does to humans trying to find their way through the maze of living. seems to turn people into the worste selves. it's crazy. you'd think otherwise, but it just is the case. sadly.

i s'pose i spend more time, these days, "kindly offending" the religious and looking for a place among the "heathen." caught somewhere in between the two. i hate it. the struggle. but if i'm honest, it's constant. i wasn't raised with a sense of "belonging". so i wrestle on. and that's alright.

i spent a long while saying, "screw You, "God", or whatever You are. i'm done. D - U - N. done." but it just never rung as "true" to be done. i still have fight within me. fight to believe that, even if Life wasn't like others were toting, teaching, preaching, Life is real, Life is among us; it's just too assinine to say that Life does not exist. and that i am a product of Life and his/her inventiveness. it rings as a deeply true reality dispite writing all of this before having my first cup of coffee this morning.

and dipsite what you wish you believed, i wonder what many of you actually believe about Life (or God, The Universe, The Holy Spirit, Divine or whatever you wish to call such a presence). i think many of us live lives in pursuit of something rather than in the actual presence of it. just wondering.