dimensions in string theory

Let’s start with the idea of string theory. The concept that Gravity and the three laws of quantum physics, Strong, Weak and Electromagnetic must have a unifying law that determines all of their movements. In the general thoughts of string theory which I won’t fully go into here it is believed that the concept of multiple dimensions is not just possible but necessary to explain why our world remains so constant.
So when bringing forth the idea of multiple dimensions I come back to a simple thought I held about religion for a very long time.
I used to contemplate religion, astrology, ghost sighting and all the extra- sensory beliefs as one true idea that has diverged into separate stories that we don’t remember their equal beginnings. I don’t believe in god. I do believe that people do “see” things on occasion. Most of them are easily explained away either by simple scientific anomalies or by psychological road bumps in our mind. But not all can be explained away. I began to feel that there were actually other dimensions colliding with ours that cause our vision of the world to sku in an unexplainable fashion. Because we are unable to comprehend the sku humans began to explain it in stories of ghost and religion.
But think of this. What if you were an ant on a piece of paper. You were walking around the middle of the paper and suddenly the edge of the paper rolled up and appeared in front of you. Upon stepping on the edge the paper rolled back out into it’s flat position. Suddenly you the ant are on a completely different space and you don’t really have any knowledge of how you got there. You were just transported from the middle of the paper to the edge. Well that is my concept of the next dimension after time. We see it cross our plan occasionally, but just because we don’t understand it doesn’t make it either not true or an explanation of a soul and god. It just states that we have a lot to learn about physics.

So going back to string theory. If there are divergent parallel dimensions then I could be alive and dead at the same time. I may also be seen in another dimension as a ghost image when I collide with that dimension but it doesn’t make me a soul from a dead body just another dimension colliding with it’s parallel.

The Bush Adminstration

I continue to be amazed at the callous behavior this government shows it's people. Monday morning I sent a mass email to everyone I know asking them to donate to the Red Cross or any charity they know of to help with this crisis. President Bush hadn't even made a statement at that point in time. I sent money myself and when I got a message on Wednesday from an employee at Electiononline.org I immediately ran out to Duane Reade to buy supplies to sent to a shelter in Louisiana. Yet, still President Bush hasn't sent the help he has so casually promised. My family members have already offered an apartment to a family from New Orleans for free for as long as they need it. We are doing our part. But when exactly is President Bush going to help the twenty thousand people sitting in the Superdome. We knew people were going there for shelter on Sunday. So why weren't National Guard troops lined up with dozens of vehicles to help transport them out of the city.
I sure didn't want this government here in the first place. But I never expected them to be so callus with the lives of my fellow patriots. President Bush continues to sent so many patriotic boys and girls over to their death in Iraq. And now he just lets the elderly, disabled and poor communities of New Orleans waste away and die in filth when we could save them.

New Orleans

www.redcross.org

This is a day to remember how lucky we are.
I know that many find what I write to be simplistic in nature but sometimes our Love and thoughts are not enough. For anyone who has needed the help of rescue services, which thankfully I have not, you know how important the Red Cross is.
There are people in our country that only a couple days ago had homes, which are now gone.
Today many people have forgotten about their lives. They ran errands, took their children to soccer practice and music lessons, made dinner in their own kitchens and walked their dogs through their neighborhoods. They aren't doing that now.
Compassion is needed
Love must be given
Food needs to be produced
Temporary homes need developed
Law needs to be secured
Help must be given

I visited New Orleans many years ago. When I went everyone told me how it was a little bit of France here in America. I sure did fall in love with the architechture and design there. The homes were gorgeous. I held particular appreciation to the front doors of buildings. I have a stack of photos of the beautiful colors they used to paint their entrances. I knew while I was there that I wasn't in plain old America anymore.
I went to Paris (finally :-)) this past Spring. Although I could spend a coupe hours talking about to beauty of this city this paragraph isn't about Paris. I very much see influence of Paris and France in New Orleans but don't ever believe it's the same. New Orleans is a very different and awe inspiring place on it's own. We as Americans should treasure our cities and their differences. Hopefully we can help the residents start again and bring back a little bit of New Orleans to America.

www.redcross.org
Stop and think how much Twenty dollars can help when it's combined with twenty dollars from thousands of other peoples' pockets

Love

Wrapped Up (unfinished)

Wrapped up
Feel the water against my breasts
The wind against my back
The sun burn my skin
I wrap my fingers around
It stings
Draws blood
Creeps up my arms
Drawing back in horror
Scraping at my fingers trying to remove the pain
Knowing I shouldn’t have gone there
Regretting my curiosity

I ache between cotton and air
Salt drying on my temples

Staring at the stars
I sink into the cotton
Falling faster and faster
Wanting to disappear
The more I fall the more I can’t move
Water seeps into my brain

Memory envelopes me and I fall asleep

The colors in my brain are swirling
I feel the pain in my fingers
In my brain
In my heart
In my bones

Before

The beauty was intense
Colors brilliant
Textures calling to me
Rhythms wanting to meld with mine

After

The pain intense
Blood running hot
Ache seeping from my pores

American

I am a proud American
I am proud of the men and women who give up their life to protect me
I am proud that they will die for me
In return I promise to protect them
I promise to remain here and as their watchdog
I promise to make sure their superiors treat them with the respect and honor they so richly deserve

New Today

A friend let me know about a website to checkout.
www.mediamatters.com
I only had a brief moment to glance at it last night but was quite interested in it’s content. The producers seem to make sure they do extensive research on their subjects. They clearly articulate how the medis guides our countries thoughts as much as the government does. And possibly in conjuction with our government.

As I’ve seen this week, and will discuss later, media is being censored by our government. We must be diligent in our efforts to keep tabs on our government. Journalists must realize they can’t just sit in press cores and ask silly questions. They have to do under cover research. It is their job to expose people. It is their job to find out what’s behind the story.

Why hasn’t the media continued to pursue the Rove case. It was plastered over the papers for weeks then disappeared. We can’t let something like that be left to the government to decide. We must force their hand.

Indifference will be our death.

The constitution and the forefathers of our country designed a government that can evolve. I am a proud American that thinks our government model is the best ever created but it does require us to be diligent and active in the process. It allows us to control our officials but only if we participate. And not just at election time. With each liberty we ignore with lose our rights.

Subway Musings

08/07/2005

My tank top on
My shorts hugging my hips
I strap on some music and head out into my scene

Black & White trots ahead of me
Part of the scene
With knowledge and contentment with her place in this world

Trickling ambience rings in my ears
It’s beat moving my body through the urban landscape
I feel so natural in such an unnatural place

It’s lines are so forced
It’s need to collaborate so strong
It’s desire to belong, jutting from every brick board and crack
Every sheet of glass

I grow taller as each texture fills my space
I ache with its desires for a new day to begin
I feel its energy rush through my body

My Head

Sometimes there are so many thoughts in my head that I can't seem to separate them. I promise to write them all down soon.

Love

Lost Love

As my heart drops I have only yet read the first sentence you have wrote me.
There is no need to read more. The rest is just words.
Your proclivity towards distance only intensified my furtive desire for you.
With each truth I told you and each wall I let down I had hoped you would let yours down as well.
But you didn’t. Your walls were too strong, too thick, you were too scared of your world without them.
You were too scared of me without them.
The risk was too great for you.

But not me

I saw more then just the man.
I saw the boy you hid beyond those walls.
I saw the boundless country of your heart.
I saw the radiance of the sun that heated the earth of your heart.
I felt the heat of the blood that ran through the rivers in your soul.
I rode the waves of the sea that crashed upon your shores.
I never questioned your world only asked to be allowed to enter it.

You entered mine.

You control your world well.
And love is too risky.
But the intensity of your touch belied the locks you keep on your heart.
I know you wanted to take them off.

I took mine off.

You know you brought me out here.
You were the guide.
I only followed your lead.
Your recreant behavior of leaving me in the dead of night is only made true by the guilt of the rest of your words.

But you never expected to get lost out here, did you.
My heart is open and shines down the path back home.
Yours is locked away and only jostles at the door, begging to be let out.

My heart was open
My heart gave you love
My heart beat to your tempo
My heart’s love you stole

My heart will make more

My heart is magnanimous
My heart cherishes you still
My heart lights the path I walk down
My heart beats to my own drum

My heart will make more

My heart hopes you find love
My heart knows it will give again
My heart hopes to find love
My heart hopes to be cherished again

My heart knows it will make more


Love

I was watching a bird fly across the sky yesterday. He was stretching his wings wide, moving across the strong wind current that is created in the apex of where Manhattan, Queens and The Bronx all converge and the East river begins it's hectic current along the banks of Spanish Harlem and Western Queens. I felt his struggle. He need to get somewhere. His lonliness of no companions alongside to guide him or take the weight of the wind off of his feathers. But in my feeling I knew not what the origin of his struggle was. Was this bird taking flight away? On the beginning of his new journey. In that state of anxiety and determination that accompanies one when they know they have both moved onto an unknown path but with all their essense know that this unknown route is the most correct thing they have done in a long time. Or was he struggling to find his way back? Find his family, his village, his home. Was the intensity in his winged stroke not of determination but of desperation? Was his heart that beat so strongly that I felt it on the ground underneath him anxious for he understood how wrong his previous decisions were?
As I laid my head back listening to the sounds of intense dripping music I realized how similiar these feelings and routes were. How beautiful and desperate both routes were. That what I was conecting with was this bird's knowledge. His understanding of his next step. He knew where to go from here. He may have been on the right track last night or last week or he may have been on the wrong, but there was no mistaking that knowledge, the realization, the confidence in him that where he was going now was the correct route. And I became so intensely aware of how little strangers and friends really know where you are headed.
So much of success is dependent on others around us. We may carry our own lives but the people around us help in so many little ways each day. When you personify success, when you convince the people around you that you have taken that less travelled path on purpose, they will follow you. They will believe in your intensity and boost you up every boulder. They will carry your pack and splint your leg after you fall. It is the impression of the people around you that makes the difference. If they believe in you, you can be successful. Yes, people are sheep, but it's not that they desire to be eaten by the wolves, but they want a shepherd to guide them. So as you make decisions in life, make ones that exude confidence. Live life as if you know that what comes next is correct. We all change our minds at times, but it doesn't mean you have to go backwards. You just have to change directions. Live life with purpose and awareness of your success that is ahead of you. That is what will bring you success and happiness.

Porcelain

I watched the Discovery launch this morning. It's been the work of the NASA family for many years to fix the porcelain tiles that fractured on the Challenger launch and subsequently killed all the members on board. I have known and quietly admired the simplicity of the porcelain tiles since I was in high school. Back then I was just beginning my obsession with ceramics and loved to spill out all the spectacular uses that clay and in particular porcelain had for the world.
It's so simple in it's essence. Earth, Water and Fire. The three elements. I think that was what had attracted me to the medium in the first place. I feel humans don't spend enough time appreciating the earth they live on and any chance I get to move closer to the earth I grab with furtive desire. Before I worked in ceramics I used photography as my medium of choice. Although the technical innovation of the metals that create photos enchanted me I was always bothered by the damage that photographic by-products cause. So ceramics seemed like a wonderful new venue.
As I said before, I loved talking to people about the vast and long history of clay with humans. The way African, Chinese, Middle Eastern, and South American cultures all knew the vast uses and benefits of clay both before and after heating the material. The way that such a simple item, one that is found around the world in a complete and ready to use formula, can continue in this day and age to show itself as on the cutting edge of innovation. It's an item that is tested constantly in laboratories around the world, is used in computers, is beneficial to the human skin, and enhances the enjoyment of children at fancy "Make your own Pot" birthday parties. And of course pure porcelain keeps astronauts from burning up in re-entry through the earth's atmosphere.
So what of all this? Why does this matter? What can we as a culture learn from today's launch? Don't we have other more pressing matters to deal with?
Someone 50+ years ago looked at porcelain and saw past it's skin. Saw past how fragile porcelain is when you drop it. Saw past how limited it's uses were, saw past it's limitations and gave it the opportunity to do more than what it should be able to do. And now porcelain saves the lives of astronauts every time they re-enter the earth's atmosphere allowing these scientists to do research that has saved countless numbers of lives around the world.
So when our "First World" countries sit around in their board rooms talking at conferences such as the G8, discussing who to help and who not to help. Remember that these are just people like us. They have never has the opportunity to prove themselves. We have never given them the hope needed to prove themselves. We are the ones who can give them the ability to do more then even they have ever dreamed they could be. We are the ones with the power to transform the world. If only we could give the world that chance.

Love

Quote for thought

As we question what our government can and can't do to us. As we question what is inconvienent and what is obtrusive. As New Yorkers ask "What do I care if they search my bag, I have nothing to hide?" Remember these words.....

"Those who would give up essential liberty, to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety." Benjamin Franklin

I have often felt myself say I don't mind our government taking a closer look to insure my safety but then I realize what this really means. Does looking in my bag really stop a terrorist. Maybe for the first couple of weeks. Maybe for a stupid terrorist. But as many New Yorkers realized in a matter of moments you could deny your bag being searched and walk the ten minutes to the next stop where there are no police checking bags.

We must think about what our government is doing. We must make them accountable for their actions. They must being able to explain the real reasons for the things they do. They must be able to prove the beneficiary value of the liberties they infringe upon. We must make them prove these things.

To quote the wise forebearer of our country again "Make yourselves sheep and the wolves will eat you." B.F.

I will not lose this country without a fight.

Sincerely,
cat

The zebra meeting

As I stood on the Zimbabwean plain, the grass, greener than I had expected, was tickling my ankles in the back of my brain, I felt the immense power and intelligence of the zebra in front of me. We stood maybe 60 feet apart watching each other for a moment, assessing ones’ reasons for being there. The sun beat intensely upon my back, pushing me to move first. Slowly approaching this zebra asking to be let into his world he allowed my entrance. I remember the tension in my body. My left thigh kept twitching not being able to fully conceal my anxiety and excitement. I don’t remember how long I was there, it seemed like a moment and a lifetime at once. I felt my heart beat with all the work I had done to get here. All the sacrifices I had made. All the evenings I spent alone to further my work and this trip. All the things I had given up and taken on to build my soul into one that was ready for this moment. I knew he felt it too. He could smell my pride. He could see the adoration in my eyes. He could feel my respect in each gentle chosen step upon his living room rug. He waited for me. He allowed me to control the movements but in doing so he had control over me. His aura of strength and pride swelled around him, sending fear into those who stood behind me but sending a sensual calmness into me. I was maybe twenty feet from this beast. I could see his lungs expand and compress. I could feel the beauty and wild nature behind his eyes.

Unfortunately my guide got nervous and stepped out of the jeep. In an instant he veered his eyes from me to the guide and turned from kindness to fear and anger. Then he was gone. Later my guide said he got out to “protect me” if needed.

I place this here to express how important wild nature is to me. I have always felt I’m a wild person. Someone who isn’t designed to be “broken”. A wild horse should run upon the land, not be penned on a farm. A panther sits upon a branch of a tree to create distance and force respect of its space. And there are only a few people, who truly understand pride, strength, and love that can enter the world of these beautiful animals. Who can see and feel the true nature of wild. Who shows respect for and believes love and kindness are paramount in this world.

Love

Welcome

Welcome,

I come to participate in the oh so exciting world of blogging. As of late I've found my head bursting with things that need to be said. Ponderings of the world, thoughts on relationships, or anything that seems to grow out of my head etc. etc. I hope that people will find my ponderings worthy reading on a regular basis. Maybe they are, and maybe they aren't. But I'm not out here to make a name or to make a living. Just trying to find a peacful, cathartic, intelligent way to express my own special blend of life.

And off we go......

I'm going to start right off with what is most important to me. Love. There is nothing more important in this world. There is nothing that should be more given to and applied in this world than love. I will reiterate this is so many ways in so many blogs that I'm sure people will get sick of it. But it is what I live my life by.
When is love not important?
Never
We feel love in the smallest of moments, an extra hand to hold the door for the next person coming through, a slight of turn as we pass by strangers, a smile to the newest of the world, a moment to acknowledge each other's pain and as the size and encompassing abilities of love grow we feel it's strength and power over us all. To see the love in it's larger scenes is harder though. For in seeing this love we also see the pain. There is always pain connected with love, black against white, curves against rigidity, cold against heat, and the same way the wind swirls heat around the world pushed through one space by cold and back again, we feel the glowing beauty of love pressed against the piercing daggers of pain.
So many spend their life hiding from pain and by colaboration hide from love as well. So many are scared of their feeling that neutrility is the best answer. Such a pedantic view of emotions has becoming so damaging to our society. We can no more eliminate pain then we can stop the wind from blowing. Yet we create walls around our heart, around our lives, around our soul to protect ourselves when all this really does is stiffle all feeling. We sit in our cage recirculating our exhaled air until we sufficate because of our own nessecity to breathe. NO more can we grow and thrive in this cage then a coral can grow without it's seawater. No more can we show our true colors to the world, our beat in the rhythm, our sensile pattern in the quilt, without our emotions exposed to the elements. And as the tree grows knots and curves it's trunk when damaged so do we, but in the end the tree has a story to tell, the tomato that is bruised is all that sweeter, and the person who has felt crushing earthquakes of pain and exhalting rhythms of love is all that more beautiful for experiencing life.

Love