I had to sit in the shadows for a while. I think you all can understand that.
A lot has happened. We wrote a song. It's called On The Mend. That's where I am. Sister had a drug reaction breakdown. She is better now, for the most part. The weird thumb is healing. On the mend. We are being flooded by our god, who is fell and wroth on California. I'm starting to think it's some kind of tsunami psychic residue or something. My ears got very bad again. I would like for them to be on the mend as well.
Friday night we went to Mary and Aaron's party to jumpstart their filming, and they were all badass. What I learned from that night (besides the fact that they rock and are famous and might direct a video for us) is that people regard us as hermits. Not just as busy or socially awkward but full-on hermits. That's ok.
These hermits went Saturday night with some friends to see the one-woman show of a co-friend. Lyena is paralyzed from a fall from a tree. She is a dancer. Her show is called Caterpillar Soup and chronicles her experiences becoming paralyzed. It is extremely intense, intimate, and honest. I highly recommend it to those of you out here. It plays in a small theatre near the Santa Monica Airport. It's already been extended several months and is really a brave and transformational piece from someone who has studied with the likes of Jerzy Grotowski.
Yesterday we had the mad audacity to go to the Bodyworlds exhibit at the California Science Center. For those of you who haven't heard of it, it's an exhibition of corpses. OK, OK, it's an exhibition of corpses who've been preserved...well...with plastic...so you can see...their insides. And stuff. Truly, it was overwhelming. It's definitely not for the faint of heart. I had been nutty to see it for months now, trying to convince husband that he wanted to see it too ("absolutely not!" said he). I finally wore him down, and we decided to go and meet Chuck there. About an hour before we got there, my enthusiasm wore off and I started to get squeamish. Still, we all overcame our fears and pressed through the rooms, staring intently at most everything that could be seen in a human (and a camel?) body.
You haven't lived until you've seen a skinned, cross-sectioned human who died of some kind of lung disease with a fetus still in her womb. Most uncomfortable and upsetting to look at would have to be the isolated brain and spinal cord, just lying there like some Lynchian nightmare ready to come to life. The most beautiful sight was the isolated circulatory system, branching as a million rooted vines through space, free of their bodily counterpart. I got to see my Enemy The Appendix and learned that it is the most surgeried part of the body. The Ileus was not pointed out but I begin to see the ridiculous extent to which my Mom's body was manipulated to keep her alive. I mean...vital organs...just gone. It's amazing she lasted as long as she did.
There was a lineup of reproductive organs, and a girl saw a uterus and said to her dad, "It looks smaller than I imagined." He replied, "It's small there but it's bigger in real life." I'll let you sit with that one. It was packed, by the way, with a line going out the door when we were leaving. People were really taking it in well, especially the kids. I expected massive freaking out but none occured. I did hear some kids speculating whether a certain body that was in a bending position was farting, but that's about it. A little girl of about two pointed to one of the skinned men hitting a soccer ball and said, "Mommy...hurt?" "Yes, sweetheart." She wasn't upset, though. Just very matter of fact.
I noticed that people lingered long around the certain obvious cancers and the smoker's lungs, which were black and knotted. The coal miner's lung was...well, it looked like a large lump of coal. I think Chuck summed it up best when he said that (major paraphrasing) it was beautiful to see how the inner is absolutely essential to the outer, and vice versa. I spent a lot of time just looking at and blessing the Inner Ear and tiny ear bones and the beautiful labyrinth that is the hearing system. We are an extraordinary machine.
Hubby and I went home traumatized and elated and exhausted and hunkered into the couch for Strangers with Candy Season 3 and cereal. Ahhh, sweet sweet Jerri Blank eases the pain.
We are going to see that exhibit in a week. I have been preparing myself slowly. Maure | 02.22.05 - 5:51 pm | #
That would be an interesting thing to see. You are right, too, we are fearfully and wonderfully made. God really worked in such intricate detail when you look at each individual part that makes up the whole. WOW!!! Cathy | 02.22.05 - 7:50 pm | #
Strangers With Candy Season 3?!? I would have stayed for that.
You coveteth my ice cream bar. ch3lk | 02.23.05 - 12:39 pm | #