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Saturday, 07 March 2009

  • the Pinnacle Chronicle

    We, at the height of civilization (as we are led to believe, anyway,) are constantly balancing on the razor edge of right. Right not being that as in the political right and left, though they do banter back and forth across the blade on which we dance. Right meaning rights, as in “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights…” rights. Consider if you will the pits of flames and fury on either side of our sharp steel tightrope. On the left lie the plains of Freedom, vast and wild, hedonistic and dangerous. On the right is the gulf of Security, strong and steady, icy cold in its grip on the denizens of the gulf, equally dangerous as the irreverent plains. We totter back and forth on this knife’s edge, this “pinnacle of civilization.” And today as many others, we stare into the eyes of our carrier and wonder if this is the day we fall.

Wednesday, 24 December 2008

  • Sailing the Straits of Introspection, Part Deux (Stolen from my other woman- err, weblog)

    What is the nature of self? I have been debating that deceptively simple question with myself for a few weeks. I have even managed to drag innocent bystanders into the conflict. Many casualties have been incurred thus far. The lines that seem to have been drawn on each battlefield of the war are those of nature and nurture, in various permutations and incarnations. On one hand is the thought that the concept of self is an immutable essence imbued with life, and the being in basically a manifestation of essence. Conversely, the horsemen of Nurture's banner extend the thesis that perhaps the "essence" is the sum of experience. The thought extends to the thought of the being truly being the seat of existence and the mind simply tethered to it, along for the ride, per say. One can insert the variable of the soul and debate either side until Ragnarok.

    What do you think when confronted with the question of the nature of self? The mind, the being, the soul, or the Muppets? Likely it is the Muppets. I hear that Kermit is sexxxy.

    -Crow

Saturday, 22 November 2008

  • Dusty Xanga... whoops.

    I know that rarely updating isn't good blog maintenance.

    I know it.

    I have seen it happen.

    I have watched several blogs rust away.

    But I can't seem to avoid it. Oh well. Xanga is so much more than a blog, so only one branch of this thing is withered because I think very little is blogworthy. That's comforting. I wish I was one of the people who could commit interesting things to print each day, sadly I am not. At least my readership is slim to none. I wonder why I even write stuff like this, who will ever read it? Hell, I could put most anything I wanted and no-one would ever know. If they did, I doubt they'd care anyway. That's good. Life's good. I'm wearing mukluks, skivvys and a pith helmet. Heh heh, if your exist, dear reader, know I'm not kidding.

    Small confessions make me smile.



Monday, 13 October 2008

  • Shye Ney.

    A couple of days ago I looked at the "jewelry" I was wearing. Not just a glance at a necklace like, "Oh, I forgot I was wearing that," but a real look at what I wear every day and why. For lack of a better post, here are my musings on the collection of baubles.

    Going from top down-
    Hei Matau in silver, on an 18" silver rope chain. I have been in the process of discovering some previously unknown connection to the Pacific Islands and their cultures. This pendant somehow found its way to me within the week.

    Clover pendant in iron, and cast Hamsa on a 20" steel ball chain. The clover was a gift from another late generation Irish diaspora friend before I moved far away from my home. The hamsa I traded for at a flea market with one of my carvings.

    Iron Cross in steel and enamel, turn-of-the-century skeleton key, and cast metal arrowhead on a 24" steel ball chain. The cross I bought back when I was a serious "rocker." I wore it on a much shorter, heavier chain high on my chest and thought I was edgy.  The skeleton key was a gift from a dear friend some time ago, the "key to her heart." The arrowhead was givin to me by my parents when I was younger and developed a fascination with the Algonquian tribes native to the land I called my home.

    On my left arm is a twisted leather braclet, the first I ever made. On that hand is a small, uningraved signet ring blank in silver, and a steel ring with enamelled black stars.

    My right arm carries a hemp Turk's Head knot on the wrist, and my class ring in silver.

    Anyone who actually reads my blog, I dare you to examine your adornments.

wcrow

  • Visit wcrow's Xanga Site
    • Name: Warren
    • Birthday: 10/5/1990
    • Gender: Male
    • Member Since: 9/14/2008

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About Me

  • Your average conflicted, bulletproof young artist with soul.

Pulse

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