they are god!!!

have.one!, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Last Sunday my lovely, gorgeous wife and I (hopefully she will read this and I will get some brownie points) were walking downtown Montreal. We love Montreal so much because it is a beautiful city with so much to offer anybody who has any kind of interests. You like poetry, head over to a slam. You like hockey, welcome to the "hockey mecca" of the world. You like latex and fetish stuff let me introduce you to my old part time photography teacher! I am not making this up. I haven't gone though... seriously... ummmmmm.... back to my point!

So we are walking by two street kids who have their sign out and they are asking for change saying that they want to put it towards a happy meal, because there is a Mickey D's right around the corner. Of course being the good Samaritans we are... we were in a hurry to get somewhere. But we passed back shortly after... (yeah we were in a real hurry... we were actually trying to get to church. How horribly unJesus but very religious is that?) and when we passed by again there was a young married couple who ended up giving them two McDonald's gift certificates. It was amazing to see four faces light up with love for another. I know for a fact that the couple who gave the coupon are Christ followers, or Christians, or whatever they are called these days... but you know what? They didn't pass along a pamphlet, or preach, or even condemn them into the fiery pits of hell because of their tattoos and piercing (that last part is laced with sarcasm for those who don't know me that well.)

I like seeing people who normally aren't loved being loved. You can tell that this meant a lot to those streetbound kids. As the pair of "do-gooders" walked away one of the kids said aloud, "Those guys are god!!" I thought it was really appropriate... not that they were, but that by an act of love God was seen and experienced.

(note: the picture has nothing to do with the story other than this homeless guy was willing to share his smokes and beer with me when it was obvious that was all he had. it was pretty powerful for me... he allowed me to capture it on film!)

Life on the edge or life like a veg?

frontenac.blur, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ever thought of doing something crazy... nothing illegal... although it may have been the case. Why didn't you do it? Why did you do it?

I think its funny how hard we push our limits as humans. Yes, there are some of us that sit on the couch and eat chips all day, but some of our species get out there and do the wildest things. These guys in the picture put on skates and then bomb down a sheet of ice half a kilometer long, the whole time pushing and fighting with other guys trying to get to the end first. (kind of paradoxical "getting to THE END, FIRST!) Who would have thought this sport should evolve into being? Let's take rugby, downhill skiing, hockey, boarder cross, insanity and mash them all together!

Another extreme example was from the movie, based on the book, based on the true story, based in Alaska.... "Into the Wild." A young man leaves a university degree, car, credit cards, home, family, security, and prime time television to live in the wild world by his own wits. His ultimate goal is to live in the middle of nowhere, Alaska and fend for himself. I won't ruin the end if you haven't seen it, but it kind of goes against my point here... but regardless...

Living dangerously... living on the edge... actually living! Imagine that! We live in a society that fills us with fear. We have to get insurance, lock doors, get alarm systems, take extra vitamins, look both ways before crossing the street.... (some of these are good things, I am just on a roll.) Ever hunted for your own food? It tastes so good!!! We once speared our own fish and grilled it over a fire and it was delicious... no spices no nothing. The whole process of getting it spiced it up!

I am not against modern society... there is a great beauty in museums and grafitti. There is music in the symphony and the homeless guy playing his harmonica for change. But I wonder if we are missing out on life by not pushing ourselves, by not hurtling down a mountain of ice and fighting guys off at the same time... Jump out of our bubble baths and into the middle of raging rapids and over the waterfall into the pool below...

or maybe I'll just go to McDonalds.

Vampires suck...

These were the first words of the night at my first official poetry slam, throw down, this is a show-down, hell no i won't slow down...

My friend knows a friend who are both members of this poetry, spoken word artist collective where they wax and weave words wondrously in weally weally cool ways (much like I am trying to do, but not really succeeding. Although I really like the aliteration.) So I went to this exposition of prose in a professional capacity to be a picture poet and document the night with my camera. I have always enjoyed clever thoughts presented through stories and poetry and song, but this was something extra special.

I have always thought that poetry groups were fairly extreme. They were for people who liked hearing themselves speak and would sit around in tweed blazers, sipping tea, and using big words that very few people understand or they were for left over beatniks from the San Fransisco Bay area that spoke in awkward rhythms as they stroked their little soul patches (i have a soul patch and I do that all the time actually). But this was different. I kind of knew these groups existed where people actually have fun with the spoken word. Where they clap and yell out their agreement when a poet puts together a thought that just blows the mind... and there were many instances where this happened.

These people were out on a saturday night laughing, joking, drinking, and enjoying life. They were friendly, encouraging, and very welcoming. They cared about the people who were presenting and their hearts and minds were open to new ideas and would never, ever judge the person sharing. These people have taken words and spoken life in them. Wild, crazy, passionate life that it contagious and uplifting.

Words --> Spoken words --> Living words

There is definitely something we can learn from these pioneers of prose. The ability to take words that are expressions of their soul and hearts, speak them for the world to hear, and because of their passion and the truth that embeds each word brings life... wow! I am going to go back. The church, the community, the collective of poetry is full of life.

... and vampires more than just suck, they bite big time.

Lick my glass!

Waterwall, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Ok... so I just posted something to my blog today, but I just read something that struck me in a big way. You know when you hear something and it just resonates within you like a pitch fork? You can feel it penetrating deep into your soul and then you find yourself just moving along with it...? Thats now.

I just started reading "The End of Religion," by Bruxy Cavey and I got as far as page 39. He is discussing how the whole concept of religion has huge flaws and it is so counterproductive to real spirituality and a discovering of who God is. He asks you to picture a thirsty person holding a glass of water. Now picture that same person licking the glass in order to quench that thirst. Not too bright. Bruxy's claim is that glass is religion. Those who are religious focus so much on the glass that they are forgetting what is inside!

It was just such a clear picture of how futile it all is. We focus on how the water is delivered. What is holding that water that we thrist for so desperately? How is it presented to us? When we should just be looking to quench a thirst that makes us lick cracked lips. Dive in! Bathe in it! Soak it in! Cup your hands together and pull that foutain to your mouth...

So thirsty right now....

scabbed knees

waitin.on.mama.to.finish, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

I feel for this woman... big time.

Have you ever run up and down stairs to improve your health or physical abilities? I did on Monday night after a kickboxing class. My legs were exhausted by kicking higher than my groind will allow me and from receiving painful shots to my knees and thighs. However, this was not enough punishment and I decided to run (run being used very loosely because after the first ten flights I slowly jogged and then walked) 20 flights of stairs. Going up and down that is a total of 1064 stairs. My legs are cramping up just thinking about it. So, why did I do this? To stay in shape, to get into better shape, not to lose face in front of the other guys running them, and probably because there is a piece of me that is sick and twisted.

So I feel for this woman... why? Well its obvious if you look at her face. She is going up a whole host of stairs...on her knees... voluntarily. Now why is she doing this? For her health? To stay in shape? To get into better shape Not to lose face? That maybe she is sick? Kind of all of the above. This woman is going up a few hundred stairs on her knees, saying a prayer at each stair, as penance for something that she has done and to show her devotion to God. So in a sense she is trying to build up her spiritual health and flex those devoted muscles.

Whether or not you agree with her choice, it takes a lot of guts to do it. I get winded walking up those stairs when I visit that church... Though I feel that her efforts are not necessarily going in the right direction, it impresses me. A lot...

What kind of pain, discomfort, embarassment, and devotion am I willing to go through for my faith and my God. Its quite humbling...

patience

sortie, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

I always pick the worst lines at Ikea. For some reason my line picking abilities aren't too bad at the grocery store. But at Ikea I am definitely cursed. It frustrates me to no end to see people fumble with small change or have some issue with a price that could have been resolved on the sales room floor.

So much to my dismay, I walked into the worst situation yesterday.

I had finally found the right line. It was beautiful. Huge carts filled with poang chairs, ribba picture frames, and summat bed frames were being checked through with olympic like speed. I was in my line triumphant as I edged forward and other were at standstills. A couple more minutes and I would be out of there heading for the coveted exit. Oh yes... People in other lines were fading in the distance as I approached my cashier in her yellow and blue shirt. It was my checked flag!

Disaster struck.

With the end so near, the person in front of me brought my poll position finish to an screeching halt. The lady in front of me having all her items checked through brought out 35$ in cash to pay for a $156.32 tab... ok no worries... don't panic. Its just two transactions. I am still well ahead in the game. But the woman now looks at the total and it obviously is not something she agrees with. She indicates to the cashier to remove the 40$ gift card she purchased. I guess she had $100 limit. Fine... more time spent, but thats ok. I understand. I actually applaud her frugalness. I would just consume and take the hit financially. So now its down to $116.32. However this isn't good either. She asks to remove some unidentifiable kitchen item that looks like a crash between an exotic cheese grater, a wok, and a salad spinner. No doubt it had a clever name like balakspogrizt. Now her total is $105.04. Great... lets go people! Or person as it is in this case. I can see the sortie sign! But yet again this is not good enough. The woman is looking over her already-checked items trying to decide what else needs to be sacrificed. She removes a stack of napkins. "Way to knock of another 79 cents! Way to go!" I don't even bother to check the total now. This is getting to be too much. Obviously its still too much for her and she still has to find another way to lighten her load. At this point I look back and my line has now tripled in size. We are now this slowest line in the whole store... maybe in history. I see a row of unhappy faces behind me. I want to cry out to them, "I'm sorry but its not my fault! I am not with her! I too think she should be banned for life!" As I turn away to avoid the piercing glares my heart skips a beat. The woman has pulled out a cell phone and is now calling someone for advice.

NO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

"For the love of all the holy! This has gone too far! Are you retarded?"

I felt so bad thinking that. Its not PC at all and its really insensitive. Especially in the light that the lady was mentally challenged. I am going straight to hell.

She was now off the phone and was removing a rather large box that was a sizeable chunk of the bill because now we were down to $56.93. So now her $35 seemed realistic. Break out that credit/debit card and lets get the show on the road! But no... needless to say after taking out every last bit of change from her wallet, starting with toonies, to loonies, to quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies, and even a token of some sorts she was still $13 short. There were a couple more phone calls thrown in for good measure and she was not understanding how she still could be short of the total. A manager politely came over and with another employee that picked up her stuff and started trying to figure out a way to help her.

The whole time I had been impatient, thinking about all the things I had to accomplish (ie get home in time for the hockey game) and I got upset at this woman. My time is precious... its my weekend. Whereas for this woman, it was probably a very challenging day for her. This was huge for her. My mind jumped to the conclusion that there must be some cosmic joke that I was not aware of. Why was this woman trying to make me late for whatever I had to do?

Through my selfishness, I did have a moment of clarity as I looked at my cashier. Through it all she was patient and very understanding. She took the time to count the change and manually remove items from the register and from the customer's bags. Never once did she roll her eyes or give one of those exasperated sighs. And it wasn't until it was my turn that she was replaced by another employee who had been standing off to the side of a solid 15 minutes while this whole procedure had been going down. This cashier was at the end of her shift and she probably wanted to get home, or at least away from work, more than anyone of us in line.

I have so much that needs fixing in me. I actually appreciated the opportunity to see the change needed.

just a little speck

flicker.flame.1, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

You remember when you were younger? Do you remember the time in the first grade when you looked up at the third and fourth graders and they seemed so huge and impressive. You sat there in awe and wondered if you were ever going to be that old...

I also remember the time when I came back to Montreal after one of my stints in Africa. I had spent almost five years going to a very, very tiny school that consisted of 145 students grades K-12. Upon my return I enrolled in a College that consisted of over 7000 students for a 2-3 year program. I felt like a little flame flickering in the face of a hurricane. It took everything I had to keep burning.

I ended up feeling somewhat similar tonight. I was knocked over by a display of raw emotion. I always a genie is at his most powerful as he escapes his little lamp, finally liberated to unleash all the pent-up cosmic energy; this is what happens when my mother finally speaks. She let loose four decades worth of pain, sadness, and disappointment. There is nothing you can do about it... you just sit there and pray to God that it doesn't get directed at you. You realize that you are small. Then the storm gets worse... the thunder rolls and now I am accused of being selfish (I am, but that is for another post. And it still hurts hearing it.) So now the smallness I feel shrinks me down even further. I am so insignificant at this point small makes fun of me. Then the lighting strikes and I am shocked to find out that she wants to divorce my dad after almost 40 years of marriage. I have now officially disappeared off the face of the map.

I am almost thirty and feel like I am thirteen.

Creative Basement - down the stairs

mindscape.one, originally uploaded by impactmatt.

Never thought I would be a blogger. I never thought I would be good at Frogger. I don't have the build to be a jogger.

Yes! What an awesome taste, an appealing appetizer about things to come out of the Creative Basement. What is the point of this sous-sol of imagination? Well for the past little while I do my relaxing, reading, drawing, thinking in a basement. Its not much of a basement, but that's where my brain ended up with these thoughts and ideas that I had to get out of my head. (I just finished a long day at work and I haven't even left the office... so my brain is fried and I don't think this is making too much sense. It will... at some point.)

Basically I want to get a creative dialogue going between my thoughts and the words that I put out there. Hopefully other people will jump on board and share their own thoughts and well... it will turn into a trialogue, octologue, centalogue... you get the point. I am not going to necessarily discuss what I am doing with my life, but I am going to focus what life does to me and how my thoughts, emotions, and soul reacts to it. You wouldn't believe the weirdness that goes on in my cabesa and how it gets processed.

I am not expecting this to make blog of the year, but I would love to see what other people think about my thoughts and the way I am thinking them... qu'en penses-tu?