Marriage

So something happened. The Supreme Court struck down the Defense of Marriage Act, and sent Proposition 8 back to the lower courts to be struck down. Many people look at these as amazingly good things.

I'm generally inclined to agree but honestly I have a bit of mixed feelings about all of this. They're mixed not because I'm opposed because there is not a single argument I've heard against it that holds much water. Though at the same time, from the other side aside from the "fairness under the law" line of reasoning there's nothing much on that side either.

Now before you start burning me alive in rainbow fire allow me to explain. Your feelings don't dictate the logic of an argument. You're in the right. It's a simple matter of equality under the law. There's no compelling reasons to prevent it. But the amount of "victory for love" that's being claimed is not quite what has been actually achieved. But it's not my place to dictate to you your feelings.

When I started writing this I was potentially going to go through the reasons why marriage is an outdated institution, why I don't see the point, and so on and so forth. In fact just a few years ago I would have opened up a can of highly processed arguments about the lack of purpose it serves in the modern world. That was the plan. But as I started writing and thinking about marriage... well there's something there. Some thing in the midst of all the emotional leftovers from a hundred years and the promises made by cartoon princesses.

It's a powerful thing. This idea. Two people mystically and legally bound together. I can understand the appeal. For a very long time it was something that I desperately wanted. Still do if I'm entirely honest. I mean I'm not holding out much hope for it because of my habit of infuriating horror movie style gypsy women, but there's a part of me that still wants it. A part of me that buys into the illusion.

And it is. An illusion. There's a lot of folk here in Utah, particularly the younger set, who believe that getting married will magically fix the relationship. And they think that because they've been told in so many different ways. In the movies, from their friends, from their churches. They believe in the illusion so much that when it doesn't live up to it, they feel betrayed. And they get divorced. Because the illusion is so much better than the reality.

But there are some, some noble few who look at it not as the goal or the reward, but as the beginning of the game itself. The Golden Standard of our true love idealic marriage is not the way it is, it's the way it can be. Two souls working towards building a life together. That's something that I can support. Now with more that that I could see some complications but more power to them for trying.

I'm not as opposed to the concept I was even a few years ago.

And that sort of surprised me. Because in some ways I feel much farther from it.

Creation

When I was little I would sometimes think, "What if I was God?"

I grew up in a mormon household and given the nature of the doctrine it was something that crossed my mind a fair bit. What would I do if I have divine powers? How much would I change? Would there be magic? Would there be weasels running about in watermelon yachts? (I was a weird little kid)

It was one of the reasons I stayed mormon for as long as I did. The idea that someday I would get access to that manner of power was deeply enticing and many days was the only reason I got through Sunday school. In fact I remember doing a great deal of my writing and reading during the various meetings we would go to. I was not a very good mormon. Which in retrospect made me about on par with everybody else there.

But that idea of creating my own world. Of having the power to shape and manipulate it's growth and look, always always stuck with me. It's the one real pang of regret that I feel about leaving the faith. Well that and being effectively shunted out of the dating pool. But another day on that topic.

I wanted to be God. So I started writing. And I keep writing. Always less then I feel I should but more than some of my other friends who call themselves writers. I write and I seek to understand. The fastest way to understand the world is to try and recreate it. In creating you find all of the reasons and underlying logic of why things are the way they are. If you write for long enough you'll start to see the patterns. Though the best part for me is changing the rules then seeing what happens from there.

And so that's what I did. I've created a fantasy world. I've been working on it for years and years. I've had many friends come in and help with it. So many talented people have been working to make my little world it's own thing. I appreciate them more than I can say because in many ways the world of Desylinn is what I would create if I was God. I mean the king of the Gods is even loosely based off of me.

It gives me some small comfort. To wield the power of creation and destruction. It's one of the high points of my life. 

Endings

Look up to the sky. And look to the stars.

Each one is a beautiful bright point in a sky otherwise appearing black and lifeless. Each one is like our sun. Trapped forever in the battle between nuclear flame pushing outwards and the unimaginable intense gravity of the core. It is a conflict that we can only understand through metaphor and story because the sheer scope of these forces are things we could never hope to effect.

But despite the fact that these forces are so grand and intense they could make the gods themselves quake in fear there is a point we tiny mortals have in common with them.

They end.

The nuclear fire will die out and the gravity will tear the star apart. The star will die. Its corpse will be torn to innumerable pieces and scattered to the void...

Endings are always hard on some level. It's a shift from things we know to things we don't. Some deal with it well. Even crave the shifting nature of the world. Change is the only unchanging thing. And despite my chaotic nature I'm not one that tends to deal well with change. And recently I've had a lot of it hit me.

I've left a place I loved. The first job that I ever looked forward to going to. One where I felt like I had a true (if hesitant) place. But funding is tight and as a diabetic with mental health challenges, I need full time resources and insurance. Sad as it is I've had to depart from that place.

The other thing ending was the marvelous play I was a part of. That one was expected. It is the nature of the thing. Like beautiful drawings left to the sand, such is the way of theater. At it's best it is a profound thing and the only living art, because it exists solely in the moment it is happening. It is never like it was before or will be again. Theater exists within the unique magic of a moment. And it is remembered not replayed.

So that second end is perhaps a prettier thing.

But it doesn't make it any easier to let it go. So I look to the stars for guidance. Because it is in the crucible of a dying sun that the manifold particles of our creation come into being. All of life exists because of the end of a stars life cycle.

When everything feels like it's exploding, ending, and dying around you; remember that once it cools you'll have the stardust required to fashion your new world. Create something new.

It's all just stardust anyway. 

Outside

I've been in a play recently. It is far and away the the best comedic piece I've been in, and arguably one of the most rewarding theatre experiences I've yet had. I can't understate that. It has been amazing and I wouldn't change it for the world. However, I can't really say it's been entirely easy. The Director expects the best out of us and is unwilling to let us look bad. It's been a rough but I walked out the other side far better for the experience. And frankly it's not that point that I want to talk about.

I have only rarely felt like more of an outsider than I had with this group. It's not that I've been made to feel unwelcome, and in fact a few genuine efforts to include me have been made. They just haven't bridged that gap. I've tried as well, and through a few points of resonance have been found I remain looking in more than being a part.

It's nobody's fault really. I would work with any of these people again without any hesitation at all. And given the opportunity I would gladly break bread or drink wine with them all. They're fantastic and interesting people. Which is perhaps why my feelings are so mixed. I don't belong there. But would like to.

When I first got cast in this production, I felt that it was going to be something special. Like the first scent of rain on the wind I could feel it's importance in an almost palpable manner. In the days before our first rehearsal I even had a significant and intense dream regarding one of my cast mates, a person I had seen but had never met. For me, meeting this group had a strange electricity in the air. An electricity that at times became a wall. Less magnetic and more the balance created by gravitational events.

I'm used to feeling like an outsider. It's pretty much my natural state. So much so that when I find a group that accepts me without hesitation my first reactions are confusion followed by suspicion. It's not because of a lack of confidence. It simply stems from a full awareness of who I am. I'm a strange guy. I give odd impressions. I'm personable, but that's in spite of my persona not because of it. At least not initially. I'm an outsider.

It is the price of being a shaman. And also the price of being an artist. You stand outside of the world because it gives us the best view of how things really are. It's the lot of chosen. It's the price I've paid.

Sometimes it just takes you by surprise, when you get what you pay for.