Monday, February 23, 2009

I'm yours.

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love
Listen to the music of the moment baby sing with me
We're just one big family
And It's our God-forsaken right to be loved loved loved

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Clarity

I worry, I weigh three times my body
I worry, I throw my fear around
But this morning, there's a calm I can't explain
The rock candy's melted, only diamonds now remain

Ooh ooh ooh ooh

By the time I recognize this moment
This moment will be gone
But I will bend the light, pretend that it somehow lingered on
Well all I got's

Ooh ooh ooh ooh

And I will wait to find
If this will last forever
And I will wait to find
If this will last forever
And I will pay no mind
When it won't and it won't because it can't
It just can't
It's not supposed to

Was there a second of time that I looked around?
Did I sail through or drop my anchor down
Was anything enough to kiss the ground?
And say I'm here now and she's here now

Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh

So much wasted in the afternoon
So much sacred in the month of June
How bout you

And I will wait to find
If this will last forever
And I will wait to find
That it won't and it won't
Because it won't
And I will waste no time
Worried 'bout no rainy weather
And I will waste no time
Remaining in our lives together


Friday, February 20, 2009

Listening

Excerpts from Women Who Run With the Wolves.

The way to maintain one's connection to the wild self is to ask yourself what it is that you want. This is the sorting of the seed from the dirt. One of the most important discriminations we can make in this matter is the difference between things that beckon to us and things that call from our souls.

When we are connected to the instinctual self, to the soul of the feminine which is natural and wild, then instead of looking over whatever happens to be on display, we say to ourselves, 'What am I hungry for?" Without looking at anything outwardly, we venture inward, and ask, "What do I long for? What do I wish for now?" Alternate phrases are "What do I crave? What do I desire? For what do I yearn?" And the answer usually arrives rapidly: "Oh, I think I want...you know what would be really good, is some this or that...ah yes, that's what I really want."

This discrimination is one of the most difficult things to learn, for it takes spirit, will and soulfulness and it often means holding out for what one wants. Nowhere can this be seen more clearly than in the choice of mates and lovers. A lover cannot be chosen a la smorgasbord. A lover hast o be chosen from soul-craving. To choose just because something mouth-watering stands before you will never satisfy the hunger of the soul-Self. And that is what intuition is for; it is a direct messenger of the soul.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Fresh.

I feel. My fingertips are tingling. I want to sleep outside under the stars and soak in the darkness. I want to bang on drums and dance till I'm sweaty. I am overwhelmed with my emotions and how strong they are. As spring rolls in slowly like a looming storm, I am shaken out of my slumber and awake. And I find. Simplicity. Ease.

Comfort.

So much more to see in our darkest places.

I don't know. I need this. Whatever it is. I hate to be cryptic but even I don't know what I'm writing about. There is a shift occurring in my life right now and it's just kicking my ass. I feel like a whole new person.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Theater.

There is no script. I have no lines. I have no guidance. My inner voice has quieted and I am lost in the darkness. The only thing it told me last night was to stay, sleep, quiet. Since then, it has floated off or tucked itself deep down somewhere I can't find. I am crying. I am exhausted. It's been such a long week of conflicting thoughts. I realized today how long it had been since I cried. I don't remember the last time.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Win-a-trip essay

So this is what I submitted for the competition. I think I've got a shot, man. Give me feedback.

Unplugging. Reconnecting.

Jessica Hullinger
Bloomington, Indiana


Nearly half of all young Americans cannot find New York on a map. Six out of ten cannot find Iraq, and nine of ten can’t find Afghanistan. These statistics come from a 2006 study done by National Geographic, which tested the geographic knowledge of Americans between the ages of 18 and 24.

The results of the study suggest young Americans, of which I am one, have a limited awareness of their surroundings. We are more concerned with our Facebook accounts than the latest news headlines. Our eyes are so glued to the miniature screens of our iPhones, they've forgotten what it's like to look at someone and read the lines of their face. Despite our ability to go anywhere, see anything and talk to anyone at unprecedented speeds, we are disconnected from the rest of the world, and most of us don’t even know it. We’ve become comfortable in a bubble, and our worlds are small and self-oriented.

Have we, the youth, lost our will to explore? Are we stuck in our comfort zones, afraid to leave? How did this happen and what is the remedy? America is too big and too influential. The world cannot afford for tomorrow’s leaders to be ignorant, to lack culture, to have closed minds.

I’ve desired global knowledge since I was young. I am a journalist at heart and an explorer by nature. I’ve never been content without knowing about the happenings in other parts of the world, and I’ve always been lured by travel and adventure. There is a lot out there and I've hardly seen any of it. How could anyone be expected to feel content with that?

For these reasons, I’ve done some traveling and I’ve learned its benefits. I spent a semester in Rome, Italy and my worldview changed dramatically. My empathy for the people there transcends borders. I believe every student should spend at least a semester abroad, and make these connections, too. But for those who can’t, we must connect them to these places through stories.

A good story plants a seed. It pushes you to do something you’d not considered before. I remain a journalist because I want more people to expand their minds and be compelled to connect with and learn about the world they live in. We began as a family and we remain one, and we must reach out to distant relatives lost in the digital divide.

Part of the reason young people tune the world out is because they don’t understand it. It’s big, it’s intimidating, and many parts of it are plagued by realities that make the heart ache.

If you pick me to help you tell Africa’s stories, I will write compelling tales young people can read without getting lost. My knowledge of Africa is limited, but I am not afraid to ask questions so I can better understand. My readers will learn with me, and I will challenge them to think with a critical and open mind.

What are my qualifications? I will graduate in May from Indiana University Bloomington with a B.A. in journalism and a political science concentration. I wrote for three years for the IU newspaper (The Indiana Daily Student). This past semester I was the “diversity” beat reporter and covered cultural issues and events on campus and in the community. Currently I write for a local paper called The Herald-Times.

But to be honest, I feel too tame in news reporting. I need to write with unbridled feeling and passion, and so I also blog.

Other than that, I’m optimistic, strong and wild. I am driven to learn and see and touch and I want others to be driven, too. It is urgent that young people learn to unplug and reconnect with the world. We’re the future, and the future is global and the world is huge. We can only help Africa if we know Africa, and too many kids don’t even know which oceans sit where. To them, those oceans are barriers, which we must encourage them to cross.

Tantalizing. Agonizing.

Chirp. Chirp chirp. It's quiet here on Washington Street but for the passing cars. The birds have no doubt enjoyed the weather lately. I have. But I hear maybe there is snow on the way.
I'm sitting on the porch listening to Bright Eyes and working to finish my Win a Trip to Africa essay, which has taken many forms since I began writing it a few weeks ago. It's due today. I have to finish it.

Today was agonizing for a number of reasons. I managed to set my alarm for an hour late and consequently, I was late for work. I got there at 6:45 and wasn't truly awake until around 8:00. It was slow as molasses at The Deli, and I wanted to get outside and breathe. But, I managed to make some money. It was still agonizing.

Last night Jersey's boy Rick came to town a day early and surprised her. I helped sneak him in, but not before giving him bad directions and sending him "half way to Terra Haute." Before he arrived, Jersey, Alison and I drank cocktails, many of which were supposed to be purple but turned out teal. We laughed a lot, like we usually do. And Ali made hotel reservations. I love them all very much, and they know it.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Last year at this time I was in Rome, sick with the flu and missing cooking lessons. Two years ago at this time I was sick with the flu and in Brown County being romantic. I have yet to feel ill, and I've got my fingers crossed.

So, tonight Stacy and I will look for answers in wisps of smoke.

Haven't dreamed much lately. Maybe I got the message.



So I'm up at dawn.
Puttin' on my shoes.
I just want to make
A clean escape
I'm leavin'
but I don't know where to.
I know I'm leavin'
but I don't know where to.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

When water comes to life.

Hope for a cure.
Read that.



It's a beautiful morning. I've been up since 6:30 writing a paper about globalization and its setbacks. This semester has proven to be one of my toughest, as most of the time I am either reading, writing or stressing out about all the reading and writing I need to do. I am only taking 12 credit hours but my African Politics class and my International Newsgathering Systems class are both killer.


But, today is Thursday and that marks the end of my school week, and I plan on taking it easy this weekend. May you do the same.

The big story on the NYtimes website today is about the economy's effects on ethanol production.

Read this, and then read this. Tell me who you're rooting for.


After all that, if you still have any energy, relax and listen to some music (thanks Jers):

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Logic and reason

Well, I've let my emotions run away with my logic. That sums up the past two weeks.
So, I'm back and I'm writing things you, anyone following, will hopefully find interesting.

I've decided, after very little deliberation (as with most things in my life, I've realized), that I will spend this year's spring break traveling. I'm not sure where I'll go, but most likely it will be West. I'm drawn to the Grand Canyon.














So much open, raw earth to touch and kick up and breathe in. I think I just may. But! What will I do about money?! Now taking donations.


Also, thought this looked interesting: Saline Valley, California

In other news, it's storming like hell in Bloomington, but the only thing we really have is wind. No thunder, yet. Just wind and weirdness. Indiana weather is always amazing me with its ability to change its mind so quickly. I do that too though.

I'm writing a story about recent graduates who aren't finding any jobs in their career field. I'm interviewing Meghan Fox, who is working at Enterprise car rental. She looked for months for a job after graduating with a fine arts degree. The economy is in the ditch, in case you didn't get the memo. But of course you did.

Surprisingly, I'm not all that worried about money. If I can't get a job after school (let's be honest. I'm a journalist. The Tribune Co. is bankrupt), I'll do odd jobs and travel and hell, maybe I'll read tarot cards for a living. And I'll see the world, because life is too short to worry about money. It will come when it does. If there is one thing I've learned here in Bloomington, it's that adventure is often right around the corner. All you have to do is go looking.



That's my gnome. And my aloe plant. Both are two of my favorite things.






Political comments are on the way. Honestly, the politics of my own mind have me tangled, so I'm a bit distracted. In the mean time, I suggest you all go here for good news. This guy leaked the Monica/Clinton story before anyone else did. Good stuff.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Hiding out. Hiding out.

I'm not sure what I'm attracting. New things. Strange things. Things of substance, I think. Fleeting things. Springtime always does this...the warmth seeps in and I am inspired.

But tonight I'm not so inspired. My emotions are exhausted. It's warm, and I walked through the moonlit campus, and it was really nice. That's an understatement. I guess I do define myself by my actions. Maybe I should define myself by my feelings. In that sense, I am elated and exhausted at the same time. I feel the pull of the moon, it's tugging at my heart strings. It's telling me to go do things. Maybe spring will bring much needed change. Scary. But I need it. But I don't want to have to make any decisions. I want them to be made for me. How lazy. Can't life just be easy like that? Point me in the right direction and I shall go!

Anyway. My emotions. I am not satisfied. My emotions are not satisfied with my circumstances. Hm...
Now what?

Journey of the featherless.

Got myself a mission
I'm going to find heaven
I made paper wings
I think they'll carry me a while

I left you a love poem
The best I have written
My favorite words
Were the ones I couldn't spell

They say that I'm a lunatic
They say that I am full of it
I say that it's worth dreaming
Just for the dream of it

It's all about passion
It's all about perception
Don't call me on my cell phone
'Cause there ain't no reception

When I'm gone
When I'm gone

I think I'm growing feathers
But I'm not quite sure of it
'Cause I started getting dizzy
About a Hundred feet up

I made friends with the clouds
I made friends with the birds
If you ask a goose a question
He never shuts up

And honestly I miss you
And I hope that you're missing me
Cause I could use your lips on me
And a little bit of Dramamine

For the moment I can see
Way better than I've ever seen
Don't sell my stuff on eBay
Cause I might need it back before I'm gone

Before I'm gone

I'm not the kind of man
Who's into looking downward
I've drank my share of pity
From the bartender's cup

So many people
Wondering "What's the right direction?"
As far as I'm concerned
There's only one way up

And my fingers, they are blisters
And my eyes, they are bullet holes
But my hearts still beating
Guess I'm pretty lucky

Pretty lucky
Pretty lucky

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Words from Women Who Run With the Wolves

For many modern women, it is not the driving about in the dark looking for the soulskin that is the most fearsome. rather it is the diving into the water, the actual return to home, and especially the actual leavetaking, that are far more formidable. Though women come back into themselves, draw on the sealskin, pat it closed and are ready to go, it is hard to go; really, really hard to cede, to hand over whatever we've been so busy with, and just leave.

"...one night
there's a heartbeat at the door.
Outside, a woman in the fog,
with hair of twigs and a dress of weed,
dripping green lake water.
She says 'I am you,
and I have traveled a long distance.
Come with me, there is something I must show you...'
She turns to go, her cloak falls open, Suddenly, golden light...everywhere, golden light..."

Follow the call, even when we've no idea of where to go, in what direction, or for how long. All we know is that like the child in the tale, we must sit up, get up and go see. So maybe we stumble around in the dark for a while trying to find what calls us, but because we have managed to not talk ourselves out of being summoned by the wild one, we invariably stumble over the soulskin. When we breathe up that soul-state, we automatically enter the feeling state of "This is right. I know what I need."

Women know, absolutely know, when they have stayed overlong in the world. They know when they are overdue for home. Their bodies are in the here and now, but their minds are far, far away.

They are dying for new life. They are panting for the sea. They are living just for the next month, just till this semester is past, cant wait till winter is finally over so they can feel alive again, just waiting for a mystically assigned date somewhere in the future when they will be free to do some wondrous thing. They think they will die if they don't ... you fill in the blank. And there is a quality of mourning to it all. There is angst. There is bereftness. There is wistfulness. There is longing. There is plucking at threats in one's skirt and staring long from windows. And it is not a temporary discomfort. It stays, and grows more and more intense over time.


Some women are afraid that those around them will not understand their need for return. And not all may. but the woman must understand this herself: When a woman goes home according to her own cycles, others around her are given their own individuation work, their own vital issues to deal with. Her return to home allows others growth and development too.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Somedays

Somedays aren't yours at all,
They come and go
As if they're someone else's days
They come and leave you behind someone else's face
And it's harsher than yours
And colder than yours

They come in all quiet
Sweep up and then they leave
And you don't hear a single floor board creak
They're so much stronger
Than the friends you try to keep
By your side

Downtown, Downtown
I'm not here, not anymore
I've gone away
Don't call me, don't write

Just a picture.



That's all.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Point blank.


I want travel. I want music. I want color.

I want love. I want inspiration.