shear

i've always been fascinated by houses of cards, the real ones built with playing cards i mean; not the political television drama (though i do love that show).  it boggles my mind how people can build extraordinary towers and elaborate structures simply out of cards.  between my short patience and shaky hands, my attempt at a house of cards resembles a failed lean-to more than anything remotely house-like.

but there's a guy, bryan berg, who has figured it out.  he's mastered the delicate half art/half science pastime and has held the guinness world record for the tallest freestanding house of cards since 1992.  in fact the guinness folks invented a new record category for him to be honored in, in 2004.  lest you think this guy is just some punk with a steady hand, let me correct that misconception.  berg holds a professional degree in architecture and a design achievement award from iowa state university and a masters in design studies from harvard.  berg travels the world and builds elaborate card house displays on commission.  think: art installation.

in my wiki research i read that the general structural guidelines dictate a proper house of cards utilizes only friction and balance to remain upright.  these structures are delicate!  a strong breeze or misplaced card and they topple.

hmm.  that sounds familiar.  my emotional infrastructure somewhat resembles a house of cards these days.  delicate.  subject to sudden climate changes that result in certain disaster.  sometimes too much friction and not enough balance.  at other times, perfect balance toppled by unexpected brushes.  yes, an emotional house of cards indeed.

(i do love a metaphor, after all.)

but then i read this:

Bryan Berg claims..that the more cards placed on a tower the stronger it becomes, because the weight of the cards pushing down on the base (increasing friction) allows occasional cards to stumble without the entire structure collapsing.  He also claims that proper stacking technique allows cards to function as shear walls, giving considerable stability to the structure.  

and strangely enough, that makes sense to me.  i see that.  a layer of laughter, levity and love can remedy many a shaky card.   with enough carefully placed support, even the once weak cards can add stability to a structure.

while i was pondering this topic on my evening commute, pre-writing the blog in my mind, as i often do; a card was placed on my tower.  a surprise placement, quite out of the blue; it could very well have toppled the damn thing right over.

but it didn't.  as luck would have it, it was ever so carefully placed, building a shear wall i didn't expect.

d:  patience with my construction
b:  metaphor win
g:  shear walls

cracked

i feel much like i did three and a half years ago when i stopped writing.  i tried to explain it when i came back this time - that it was too hard to write when things weren't sugar sweet.  but that's not wholly true.  it's easy to write - in fact it's the most natural thing in the world for me.. writing when i'm in pain or struggling or lonely or confused or a myriad of other emotions.  but what isn't natural for me is holding back.

i've often wished that i did this blog anonymously.   that i hadn't shared it with my social networks.  that i'd used aliases for the people in my life.  for then i would never run into the brick wall that is self-censorship.

self-censorship.  what a strange oxymoron that is, a cruel twist on self-expression: self-suppression.  

censor  [sen ser]  noun
1. an official who examines books, plays, news reports, etc for the purpose of suppressing parts deemed objectionable on moral or other grounds
2. any person who supervises the manners or morality of others
3. an adverse critic; faultfinder
...
verb
6. to examine and act upon as a censor
7. to delete (a word or passage of text) in one's capacity as a censor

when i act as a censor (def 1) on my writing and then censor (def 7) my words here it must be the "other grounds" on which i am basing my decision.   i think what i may have implied in my earlier blogs is that it was self-criticism or judgement (def 3) that has held me back.. but that's not exactly true in this context.  it's not faultfinding on my part.  it's not a critic within me.

it's the critics outside me.  those who are quick to discern where another has made a wrong turn.  those who always can see the obvious solution.  those who can read a person's mind and heart and assess their shortfalls from a small excerpt of their life.

those who define my grey truths on their black and white scale.

but why do they matter?  it must be fear.  of the judgments, of the questions, of the shrewd deductions.

and so i write in metaphor and concepts.  i write in abstract innuendo and private language few can decode.  i write myself into a corner and then cry when i'm all alone.

i don't know how not to.  the roadblock of exposure and vulnerability is still too great for me to break through.  and so i will write of it, i will expose myself afraid of exposure and maybe in time the two will be one.

There is a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in.

 -lyric from Anthem by Leonard Cohen

for what it's worth...i mean no offense to you; for my fear is generalized to all who look in.  there's no specificity in my barrier, and perhaps no grounds.

d:  the light of exposure
b:  i made a crack
g:  lack of grounds

perchance

To sleep, perchance to dream -  

ay, there's the rub.  

 Hamlet  (III, i, 65-68)

it's some sort of cosmic, karmic joke that both of my boys have taken up extracurricular activities that require them to arrive at school before the sun is up on saturday mornings; seeing as i'm such a morning person.  but this week is different.

today todd left for virginia, to a national debate tournament, at 6:30 am.  incidentally, that's the same time my first alarm goes off on weekdays.  the first alarm being the one that i ignore and sleep through.  the first alarm being the one that cues mega to begin my real waking process, "wake up, i'm hungry!!"  so ordinarily i would fall back into bed after dropping him off and try to catch a couple more moments of dreamful sleep.

but not today, friday.  i left him at school, went to the grocery store, got home and readied myself for work, and there was a bounce in my step.  friday has long been my favorite day of the week..not because it's the end of the week, but rather because it's the beginning of the weekend.  full of promise and potential.  full of play and possibility.

for the past two years my december fridays have been polished off with an early quitting time at work.  we close at 2 for this month of fridays in order that we can plough the mall, prepare for the holiday, and perhaps elude gridlock.

that's already pretty perfect; but today, my friday precedes a saturday of peaceful, alarm-free, slumber.  the plan is poised:  boys out of town, pork dinner for mega, pillows prepped.

d:  plentiful dreams
b:  planning for pleasure
g:  private peace