Getting fried on the bus in more ways than one

Part of the many reasons I've stopped riding the bus and am now driving my car back and forth includes the frequent use of cellphones (loud ringing, loud conversations, non-emergency) by at least 4-5 passengers. None seem to have considered the potential negative impact on their health much less that of those around them. I wanted to include in this post a link to a book recently published on the website for the National Academies for Science, Engineering and Medicine, but Blogger said no. The book is report of a conference on the potential biological effects of EMFs, specifically cell phones. What about the cell towers?

Still processing - righteous raging rooster

I'm telling myself that I'm experiencing in a very micro way the national obsession in the U.S. with racism/sexism currently in connection with the campaign for the country's next president. The contraction, the gasping. Here's my response: a hermaphrodite barnyard bird that appears tamed but when necessary whips out hot courage that threatens the squawking chickens around, I guess. That's as much compassion I can muster right now for sexist/racist ignorance. Go chick-en/rooster! Is that a middle finger thrust in the air at lower right, or a penis or a writing implement?

The hurt and the healing

I'll leave this one for you to figure out why I put it here now. Several interactions intertwining. It's best if you click on the image to get the bigger picture :). The man and the woman beside him are looking at a photo for sale in lower Manhattan at Battery Park, not far from the site of the hole in the ground from the attacks on the World Trade Center. The photo shows the skyline now bereft of the Twin Towers. The photo behind the couple shows young people gardening. Occupying myself in my garden always has a healing effect on me.

Still processing the hurt - the ramparts

Engaging more with the feeling of hurt, I'm processing the back and forth of expansion and contraction as I try to move towards resolution and peace, using this medium as a healing modality. In other words, the blog as healer, which is what my main work is about! Healing through creativity! Instead of resorting to violence to the other, which I don't see myself being able to do, or turning on myself (e.g. catching a cold, getting an ache), I lance this boil by opening up the tool box of creative resources which are there for everyone at all times. This photo is of a building being constructed upwards floor by floor. It could just as well be a photo of a building being deconstructed through engaging in battle, with the pipes sticking out being guns instead of being part of the construction of that floor. Perception, perception - ah...

Red Hot Pokers

Before I post the drawing of the raging rooster, I felt the need for a healing image relevant to how hurt I now realize I really feel from the woman on the bus shoving me aside. Here's another photo of another section of my garden in the spring/summer. These plants are truly called red hot pokers. They seem to not mind being next to the smaller of the two blue spruce trees in front standing as guardians on either side of the front door.

Frustrage

I've been sitting on a bus every week day for one hour from and one hour back to where I park my car about 15 minutes away from my house, early morning and late afternoon. Heat to warm the chill of the air on the bus from the temperature outside being anywhere between -2 degrees F and 45 degrees these past 3 months comes only from heaters that warm you only if you sit right on top of them. One night I returned home with feet so chilled that it took me 45 minutes of soaking them in very warm water before the feeling returned. I called the bus company, which apparently relayed this item to the driver, who advised me to sit on the left side as he's "got more heaters there." Tonight the bus was 50 minutes late and crowded. In a tired daze I approached a seat on the driver's left as instructed only to see and feel the arm of the woman sitting on top of the heater firmly blocking me, pushing me away, saying not a word. The woman behind me in the aisle then sat there. I can only guess that the woman on the heater was saving the seat beside her for this woman. I sat across the aisle on the non-heated side of the bus, crammed next to another woman. I could see no other seats on the left.

I've given myself the task of how to draw this out - literally and figuratively. I reported this today (1/11/08) to the driver, my voice surprisingly breaking as I did so. It then occurred to me that this could fall under "assault" so I called the bus company.

I did draw out this poison pus by talking to my sister on the telephone and by finishing a drawing of what appears to be a rooster on a rampage.