tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37596037267260223822024-02-07T17:34:18.890-08:00I'd Rather Be Baking with Sylvia Plath: Or How I Learned to Stop Bitching and Love My MomL. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-47992297155027878522015-03-06T18:59:00.001-08:002015-03-06T18:59:17.697-08:00Who Killed Amanda Palmer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Amanda Palmer broke my heart. Perhaps it isn't fair to call her out, she is just a person. But to many she was an idea. Our very own underground punk Maxwell Demon, a pixie rock myth who so encapsulated everything I wanted to become, a gritty, unapologetic, indie artist. She has obtained the ultimate platform to jettison someone from relative obscurity to being exposed to millions of potential fans. She can open worlds for those who only skim popular culture, but are hungry for something deeper, they just don't know where to look.<br />
<br />
Amanda has fallen a bit flat in that regard. I don't want to sound mean, or spiteful, it's not really about that. She has a real opportunity to do good and it's getting away from her. I debated writing about this, not because I fear scorn of angry internet mobs, but because I am a firm believer that in an artist-fan relationship nobody owes anyone anything. Art exists for it's own sake. That said, I believe this is an issue that transcends individuals and I broke the number one rule, and let a person become an idea in my mind. She had impossible shoes to fill so this piece is kind of unfair to her, but this is more about the idea of Amanda Palmer than Amanda herself.<br />
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Her rise represented the indie dream, do what you want and magically it will come. It really isn't magic though, it takes a community. A sea of dreamers, free spirits and outcasts who make up this living, breathing world bubbling just under the skin of popular culture. The art is raw, organic and covered in the blood, sweat and tears of the artist. It takes so much sharing to be an indie creator, time, supplies, pocket change, gas, couch space. You need to accept the things you need to make the art too. We aren't bean counters, nobody has the score one sandwich for a song, a set of markers for the ride...<br />
<br />
I love the phrase "We are a community, not a competition", it's true. Most of the people I've known in the last ten years work hard in lifting each other up. Filmmakers, actresses, singers, artists, writers...we collaborate and share because if one of us makes it, the portal has been open for a hand to reach out and bring the others out too. When one of us makes it, we all do.<br />
<br />
Surviving is the hardest part about living in this wonderful community that survives on sandwich shares and couch hopping. Sally Mae and the electric company don't accept watercolors as payment. I have the benefit of having a wonderful husband who supports me and a full time day job that is supportive of my work, so I try to pay my artists as much as I can. Amanda has made a career off of bringing people together to make her art, which is wonderful and an amazing feat when you are broke. She isn't broke though, and she has hoards of adoring fans who want to support her and spend lots of resources to produce. She deserves it, she has worked hard and is a wonderful artist, but it puts her in a slightly different spot doesn't it? You're not appart of the indie economy, even if you are playing the part sleeping on couches. It isn't the same when you can put the whole band up in a four star hotel but choose not to. I've seen this with other 'indie artists' who use that as an excuse to not pay when they can. It goes against the idea of this community.<br />
<br />
I haven't broke through yet, so I don't know if you just get lost on the other side. I don't expect artists to give away what they have earned, but when one gets the opportunity to pay back or pay forward to give opportunities to those who have helped them get to where they are, they should take it. It's hard to say because there is no counting debts, there's no single number or act. That's what it means to be a community.<br />
<br />
In short, the idea of Amanada Palmer broke my heart because she left the community. I can't really be angry with her, she's just part of this difficult world, but I can't help but feel that we all lost something in this in a situation where we all should have gained. <br />
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L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-22505581770550172112014-11-05T08:40:00.001-08:002014-11-05T08:40:27.718-08:00Still can't decide if I miss the hell out of you...or just the idea of you<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Seeds Planted in November<br />
L. Anna Lenz<br />
<br />
The cold late autumn air froze illegitimate tears.<br />
Your name burned a hole in an empty stomach.<br />
A holy prayer was unable to pass over this sinner’s lips,<br />
so I said nothing as everyone said their goodbyes.<br />
Then your face turned to stone and I could not recognize you in the crowd.<br />
<br />
A candle still burns in the basement, I thought you should know<br />
The frost killed the seeds we planted in November.<br />
We were just burying the dead that night.<br />
In the spring nothing grew,<br />
But the mud soaked tendrils of stubborn roots that fought against the frozen ground<br />
Would mock me come March.<br />
<br />
Because we were only pretending.<br />
We were just burying the dead that night,<br />
Knowing in the Spring nothing would grow.<br />
And the words whispered too low to hear could be seen in the cold, late autumn air<br />
As we planted our seeds in November.<br />
<br />
The low hanging sun set fire to the sky<br />
And the world was dying around us<br />
but we were only pretending<br />
To breathe life into lifeless wishes<br />
Whispering words too low to hear, but that could be seen in the cold, late autumn air.<br />
We were just burying the dead that night.<br />
<br />
Forgive me, but since you’ve turned to stone<br />
I can’t recognize your face among the crowd.<br />
And they say God is watching this place<br />
I fear the prayers in my heart will just turn into a curse<br />
As they pass over this sinner’s lips.<br />
But I am only pretending<br />
The frost will kill these seeds that I plant each November.<br />
I am just burying the dead tonight.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-45335647940974980332014-01-30T12:56:00.000-08:002014-04-06T16:06:03.444-07:00Can We Put Down the Pitchforks and Torches and We Can Discuss over Pie?: An Open Letter to the Community from The Monster Who Lives Next Door<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I always thought the mobs of frightfully dull, repressed and clueless
suburbanites were a myth only to be found in John Waters films. It’s 2014, my
mother burned her bra in the 70’s, gay marriage is becoming legal in most
states and the world watched as Miley twerked her little heart out all over
Beetlejuice at the MVAs. Over the last few days I witnessed an internet mob of
angry pitchfork wielding villagers attacking people who I know to be decent and
wonderful members of the community. It
has been very traumatic to witness this first hand. My first reaction was
defensive to pick up a pitchfork of my own and stand up to the bullies (and I
came out swinging), but even after the truth is starting to come out. I’m still so unsettled by this.</div>
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Long Island is a unique place, just outside of
New York we are picture of suburbia sitting on the outskirts of one of the
world’s most exciting cities. People say they come to Long Island for the
communities. Wonderful communities that are supportive, nurturing and
increasingly diverse. Hurricane Sandy left our infrastructure crippled, but we
got a glimpse of how strong our sense of community is. We have towns larger than
some cities, yet we’ve managed to keep the best of both worlds, being the
birthplace of vibrant music art and cultural scenes while retaining our
trademark small town feel. </div>
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I haven’t decided if I either hate
or love the labels people group themselves into or love them. In my short 28
years I’ve bounced around in various groups all the while eschewing the
limitations brought on by identifying one’s self as part of a group or
community. Countless times I’ve asked myself, “do I belong to all of them or will
I never be fully part of any of them?” I’ve yet to have a definite answer and
will let you know when I do. I have been
an artist, writer, adult video store clerk, Pagan, witch, Christian, atheist,
agnostic, student, teacher, child, adult, successes story, failure, nerd,
gamer, freak, hipster, liberal, republican, libertarian, rich, poor, bisexual,
straight, secretary, nanny, actor and legal assistant to name a few labels that
either myself or society has given me. I guess it’s the Aquarius side of me,
but I am fascinated with being an active member of the community (whatever that
community may be). I’ve lived here my
whole life and not going to say I always fit in, but there was always a variety
of warm, open communities to be found here and the people I have encountered
over the years have been amazing. There was
no such thing as a misfit because out here everyone has a place to be
themselves. The only complaint I have is
there seems to be this divide between groups of equally awesome groups of
people. Animosity, fear and hatred of those who are different than they are. Some
of it is bread from ignorance, sometimes it’s a defensive response to past
experiences. One thing that runs through it is an underlying river of animosity
that is fed by our fears and ignorance. Although that “us vs them” mentality
may strengthen a community temporarily, it is overall detrimental because it
drives a wedge between parts of a much larger whole. </div>
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Coming from nerd/art/pagan
community, I will say I had my prejudices when I first agreed to volunteer on a
GOP Congressional campaign. My first day there I showed up in fishnets, blue
hair and doc martens. In the spirit of honesty, I will say part of my 22 year
old self was participating in conservative politics as a small act of defiance
towards my roots. Since then, I’ve
served on leadership roles for The Suffolk County Young Republicans,
volunteered and participated in local churches, charities and various community
groups. While I may not have agreed with all of them on many issues, I am so
glad I met such a great group of people who genuinely care about their
community and the people in it. Recently I’ve found myself hanging around other
artists, filmmakers and underground superstars. I have no idea where I’ll be
tomorrow, maybe I’ll join a knitting circle or a mommy group when I finally get
pregnant.</div>
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In my social travels I have encounter closed
minds, but because I decided to put my ego away for a moment and kept an open
mind ignoring the labels put upon them by both society and themselves, I
learned that underneath all of the bullshit, there was a squishy, vulnerable
human who also enjoys fishing and playing Mad Libs, someone who also lost a
baby, whose husband was also in the military and who had recipes for the best damn bowl of
chili I’ve ever tasted. So when I went
to a party, hosted by a woman Kay, one of the most beautiful (inside and out) people
that I’ve ever met, that had a group of people from all walks of life coming
together and having a great time with zero pretension or judgement, I felt so proud.
A few misinformed individuals and a
media that is fueled by that divisive animosity river has turned it into
something shameful and ugly. Angry doesn’t
begin to cover it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">
The internet is a double edged sword
of infinite information and the ability to respond immediately. We do not let
ourselves digest the information we receive before we take the opportunity to
blurt out our raw emotions in turn appealing to the emotions of others around
us until the facts become irrelevant and the topic becomes a monster, the terrifying
creature that lives in the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves. We do this
because we’re human. Our decision making part of our brain is located where our
emotion lives, not the intellect rational part. We have no natural predators
and all of our big scary monsters, violence, poverty, loneliness, disease,
hunger, pain are concepts that can’t be killed, destroyed or defeated with any
of our weapons. To fight them we must
paint those ideas on physical things we can hurt, destroy and conquer to make
us feel safe again. Krazy Kids does not represent the loss of innocence,
personal fears of intimacy or the monsters that people put in the places in
their mind that are not yet illuminated. It’s a building, a building with toys
and games for people to play and let go the serious and heavy parts of the
world that makes life hard. If Krazy Kids gets torn down, those fears will not
disappear, they will be worse because it will prove to our psyche that there
are monsters out there. The people who started these rumors do not represent
the violence and rejection we have experienced in the past. They are people who
saw a monster in the dark place of their mind and made rash judgments. </div>
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We need to stop letting our ignorance,
prejudices and fears rule us. The easy extreme is to put away our labels, strip
down all what makes us unique and then nobody has anything to fight over. I for
one am proud of my labels, I wear them like badges on a scouting uniform. We
just need to put our egos away when we wear ours. Bills Christian badge doesn't
negate Frank’s existence as an atheist and Katie’s cat lovers badge is not a
direct attack on Libby’s Dog lover’s button. Instead of focusing on what badges
are different, focus on the similarities that connect us to each other until we
are one large community of humans with not just tolerance, but respect and
understanding. Long Island is a wonderful place because of it’s diversity not
in spite of it. Allow yourself time to see past the monsters painted by a
primitive part of our brain and see the fellow human being in front of you and
the world becomes a noticeably friendlier place. </div>
</div>
L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-41539441516474442014-01-26T11:21:00.001-08:002014-01-26T11:21:32.298-08:00Story Time with L Anna Lenz (Episode I: Jerry the Merman Assassin)<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_uZoDp4LtbA" width="480"></iframe>L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-65984998837923669972014-01-02T13:22:00.000-08:002014-01-02T13:33:44.991-08:00Of Snow days, God Complexes and Cuomo's State Wide LARP <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It’s the 2<sup>nd</sup>
day of 2014 and there is already a state of Emergency for New York , yet not a
flake has touched my brand new gloves with the little foxes on them. I can feel
it though, the electricity in the air, the mix of awe and contempt we have for
Mother Nature as the news sells us on this month’s hottest natural disaster. The
stores are mobbed, milk and bread flies off the shelves. Being a childless
twenty-something, I grab the staples of mac & cheese, Tostitos and decent
beer from the local deli next to the beer distributor. It will be enough to
tide me over until society rebuilds itself again on Friday afternoon. </div>
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<br /></div>
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It’s become this sort of game, a large scale live action role
playing game where we all pretend that the world is ending. Hold up in our
houses for a bit, then go back on with our lives. It’s all very entertaining, getting swept up
in the fear and danger of a potential disaster without having to face actual
peril. I also get a half day of work,
which I am always for, whatever the reason.
For a society that generally doesn’t stop for anything, I believe that
these Stormageddon phenomena suits a very vital purpose. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Humans can control, manipulate and even create the world around
us to our whim. Printing living tissue is an actual thing now! We’ve all but conquered
God and made Mother Nature our bitch. Unfortunately a large part of being human
is the realization of how small we are in comparison. There was a time our ancestors gazing up at
the stars, worshiping the forces that dictated their futures in hopes of
currying favor and surviving another day.
Technology has reduced most of life’s
larger problems to the point where we end up being overcome with tiny details,
small tasks, and petty problems. It’s easy to see how focusing on such small
things makes us feel incredibly big and according to human nature BIG =
IMPORTANT. </div>
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Everyone is so important today. Everything they do is
crucial to society that the world would collapse
if whatever they did wasn’t done. Yes it
makes us feel important, but damn is it exhausting. The world runs like
clockwork, never stopping, always going. We are open 24 hours on Thanksgiving.
The Holidays were an orgy of spending, eating and chaos. We can work in the
winter, having conquered the darkness and the freezing temperatures. What used
to be a time when we all would just stop and sit, drink and fuck for lack of
anything better to do, is just another day. </div>
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I believe everyone is so focused on the next apocalypse to
shatter the world around them, not for love of disaster or destruction, but
because we are desperately searching for the pause button. Nothing else seems to get us to stop in reverence
to the world we are living in. It’s a deeply
spiritual need that people are so keen on denying themselves. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m sitting home, on a Thursday at 3:00PM because the roads
were shut down. The state decided that nobody was important enough to halt
emergency and road clearing vehicles by getting stuck in the snow. I will snuggle with my husband, make hot
chocolate and catch up on my reading. I will not worry about the clients I need
to call, or the laundry that is sitting in the hamper. I will be incredibly unimportant and small as
I remember that there is a universe that has always existed and will forever
exist whether I do or not. For a few
short hours I will be connected with my ancestors who lived in awe of Mother Nature,
not just annoyed by her inconveniences. </div>
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Secretly, society needs to be reminded how much bigger the
universe is than just mounds of bones and goo meandering around our little rock
nestled in the middle of space. We need to ponder those moments and celebrate
them. Don’t let Mother Nature be a small
annoyance, pay her respect for she has been here longer than you and will be
here long after you. </div>
</div>
L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-49642636274847066572013-12-10T17:50:00.005-08:002013-12-10T17:50:54.444-08:00I'm Barreling Down the Road That Takes Me From Princess to Evil Queen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">…Because every young and beautiful
princess always was and always will be a young and beautiful princess, and
every wicked ugly step-mother always was and always will be a wicked and ugly
step-mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> This story begins at “…and they lived happily
ever after,” because time is cyclical and it all comes back full circle. Fair
skin fades in time and once out of the forest, the world is a much larger
place. The dreams and the adventures we were promised just fade to dust as time
goes by and the opportunities dry up.
Glass slippers were never designed to go the distance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">What’s worse than the story of the
princess post ever after, is the story
of the rest of us. Out of hundreds of
girls at the ball what if your foot didn’t fit? Chances are it didn’t. It
doesn’t matter if Prince Charming is a man, a record contract or Harvard . All
the hype, all those lies they told us about how “special” we were really took
us for a loop. Remember your face when you saw all of the other girls in their
princess dress and tiaras? The sea of thousands of ravenous young women
desperately clawing at their chance to escape from mediocrity and you couldn’t
even get within yards of the prize before the frenzy was over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Remember
searching for that last bit of hope? Maybe He’ll notice you and he’ll whisk you
away. “He hasn’t even seen me, and I’m different, I’m better than these girls.
Right? Right?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When he passes you, the Prince I mean,
he looks right into your eyes for a moment and you two share that whole moment,
but it passes. It’s over and he
continues on his way barely acknowledging your existence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Amazing how fast the fall was from glass
slippers to Lucite stilettos. How love went from a force able to move mountains
to a to a bitch scrubbing out of satin sheets.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Every year now, you trip the little
nit-wits running down the streets in their princess dresses and their tiaras,
eyes hungry and full of life. If only now you got an invitation to the ball,
you’d put all these little bitches to shame. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I understand. Never being one for poise,
grace and elegance myself, I have landed here among the dreams my alcoholic,
self serving, cunt of a fairy godmother neglected to bippity bop into my
reality. I could talk all day about
life’s disappointments, but that’s not what this story is about…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It
starts with Regrets<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I found a crows foot today. Under my
right eye, and I’m watching it like a hawk, resisting the urge to dowse it in
L’Oreal anti-aging serum or smearing Botulism, E-Coli or whatever type of food poisoning burns
off wrinkles. I don’t want to get old. I
fear it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> As a young girl my options were a plenty,
explorer, princess, warrior, astronaut... Barbie paved the way. Rapidly approaching the dreaded thirty, my
options are drying up. I can choose from mom, career woman, or that chick still in the bar past her
prime. After that stage, I get to pick from fairy godmother , evil witch or
evil queen. The difference between the
latter being purely cosmetic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> There is this incredible journey
however, on my way from potential
princess to evil queen. One I am
slowly learning to embrace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-81734639780807780392013-11-10T19:47:00.000-08:002014-10-09T17:55:43.232-07:00When in Doubt Consult the Oracles of the Interwebs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The last few months have been a bit crazy, splurged on a Tarot Reading with WitchysCrafts on Etsy. She was incredibly accurate and you can't beat the price for $7. https://www.etsy.com/transaction/192984202?ref=fb2_tnx_title<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Past: The Star, reversed </i></b>-- in the past you may have felt hopeless, or without direction. It was difficult for you to imagine a positive future, or to see where your path would lead you. Your goals may have seemed unattainable. You may have altered your life-plan because of this, but it also allowed you to be more realistic in your goals.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Present: Knight of Rods --</i></b> You are currently charging ahead in the realm of creative pursuits. Sagittarius lends you his passion, drive, and physical skill, as well as speed in reaching your goals and destination. You may have recently found a creative ally or supporter who keeps you inspired and encourages you -- treasure this support, but know that you can go above and beyond even without the encouragement of others.<br />
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<b><i>Perspective: The World --</i></b> your perspective seems much more well-rounded now, as opposed to the star-gazing you may have been doing in the past. You know your strengths and limitations, and you work to challenge yourself to reach goals and push limits in a healthy way. You see yourself as part of a larger community, as well as a complete individual on your own. Keep in mind that the microcosm reflects the macro -- having a whole and healthy view of yourself will make you a healthy and helpful part of the community.<br />
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<b><i>The Unexpected: 6 of Pentacles </i></b>-- this card speaks quite frankly about finances. It seems that you will either have an expected patron, or perhaps an unprecedented surge in sales and popularity of your work. Keep the doors open for opportunity, network in the local crafting and writing circles, and don't hesitate to put your work out there!<br />
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<b><i>Outside Forces: Strength reversed --</i></b> there are always forces or individuals that would seek to bring us down. My instinct on this card, though, is that this person/group/entity is not bringing you down on purpose. Rather, they are weak in their own right, and they seek your help and support. Remember that while helping others is important, keeping yourself and your family safe and healthy is first priority. Don't let a toxic or dependent family member or friend drag you down in this time of creative passion and achievements -- try to find a middle road of helping them out without becoming part of the situation.<br />
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<b><i>Near Future: 4 of Rods -- </i></b>Rods, again, shows up as a suit of fire, passion, art, creativity. This card specifically represents a celebration, achievement, or public acclaim! An amazing first step for the budding writer or artist, I suspect a public display of your work and accomplishments is in your future. Take time to fully enjoy this moment, let yourself be proud and happy, and then keep on truckin' to the next step!<br />
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<b><i>Distant Future: 2 of Pentacles reversed --</i></b> A reversal doesn't always indicate a negative card. Again we see pentacles referring to financial issues. Upright, this card would represent having to 'juggle' one's finances. Its reversal feels to me like a sign that you won't have to do that any more. Financial security is coming your way in the distant future (exactly how far away it is hard to tell, but you are on the right path). Remember to keep your doors open and get involved in the community as much as you can, and create a system of support and encouragement with fellow artists. You're on the path to success, and while there may be some bumpy stretches, it seems that all will turn out for the better.<br />
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L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-50023068267283225942013-08-01T10:17:00.002-07:002013-08-01T10:17:54.192-07:00Write like a man: keeping my voice and maintaining my identity as a woman without sounding like a giant vagina.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Someone recently asked me “You write like a man. If I didn’t see your name, I’d never know you were a woman.” The statement was meant and I took it as a complement, but it begged quite a few questions. Why is that a complement? If being a woman writer who works outside of ‘typical’ female dominated genres puts you at a disadvantage, why not choose a gender neutral pseudonym? Will the fact that I’m a woman overshadow the story I’m trying to tell? Do I have a responsibility to challenge the common conception of female writers just because my voice is considered a little atypical? Does having a strong voice mean I have to eschew or embrace my womanhood? Do I really give a shit what people say?<br />
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L. Anna Lenz is not my real name, its Lisa Fox; a name that is so ingrained into my identity that I have chosen to keep over my husbands, but an established author with the same name prompted me to create a pen name using my husband’s last name (the decision which will forever be known as ‘the great compromise’ in our household). The rest came about because I thought it sounded pretty. The fact that it was overtly feminine was inconsequential to me at the time. I don’t want to trick people. “Oh you thought I was a man! Well….BAM! I got a vagina. How do you like me now?” I don’t hide my true voice behind a masculine curtain to gain legitimacy or acceptance. Although, part of me is a little less confident that this is the greatest idea if I ever intend to pay the bills with my writing, I write who I be.<br />
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Write like a man! That phrase appeals to me and stirs up emotions of masculinity, toughness, grit- angry, steel balls of power. There is a stigma about women writers; that they are, I don’t want to say emotional because some of the most iconic stories written by men are gut wrenchingly emotional, but there is a perspective difference that is commonly associated with the stereotype of the sensitive feminine that appears in the voices of women writers. Those voices can be soft, warm and inviting or cold, strong and defiant, but all can still be inherently feminine. I still wonder if there is anything wrong with that as we strive for equal footing in society, but don’t want to lose parts of ourselves in the process. I would be lying if I said being a woman doesn’t affect the way I write. Being a woman has been such a defining factor of what has shaped me as a person, but it isn’t the sole thing that defines me.<br />
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Although as an artist and a writer, I enjoy poking at the foundations of the pillars of our society, I don’t want to go into this thinking my work has any social responsibility whatsoever. I don’t believe that any one work of art should carry the burden of needing to uphold or destroy societal constructs in order to be “effective” art. Attaching that much weight to my stories would be detrimental to the entirety of the piece and would overshadow all of the other themes I want to express.<br />
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I wonder my voice is perceived as being more masculine because I paint my words with violence. All of my characters are shaped through violence, whether it is directed at them or through the violent acts they commit themselves. I don’t know why but I’d love to hear people’s opinions. It is a creative and destructive force that has always fascinated me. Having experienced violence both on the giving and receiving end, how it is perceived differently between the sexes intrigues me. It is acceptable (in the sense that the core concept doesn’t blow our minds) for a man to express power dynamics, sexuality and internal turmoil through violent acts and for women to absorb it. <br />
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We might shed a tear, but we won’t bat an eye when a story is told about how a young man loses his innocence through a violent act that he has committed. A girl will rarely lose her innocence through a direct action of her own, usually it is by someone or something that happens to her. For a woman to express herself through violence it is often always perceived as an act of self-defense (or a direct, mostly emotional response to violent acts committed against her) a mental illness, or as a sign of being somehow unfeminine.<br />
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Girls can be angry. Women can rage, hate and spite just as well as any man. I was always felt more comfortable putting my fist through a plate glass window than writing my feelings down in a flowery journal, but I rarely did. Maybe it’s because girls are trained at a very young age to accept our place, to be comfortable being uncomfortable and not violently change our world to suit us. It did help me become a better writer, but I wonder if that is why I want to strut my lady bits with pride. Every bloody fist, every pretty dress, every time I powder my nose and every time I don’t want to cuddle after sex, all parts of me are feminine because I am a woman. I am proud of the dark, gritty, guttural epic I’ve written, and I like my pretty feminine pseudonym. If you don’t well, suck my giant invisible dick.<br />
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L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-86309675392026354552013-06-01T10:37:00.000-07:002013-12-10T17:53:25.388-08:00Little Princes: What’s Right with Generation Y<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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By: L. Anna Lenz<br />
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I’ve been reading a lot of articles describing “what is wrong” with our generation. There is the very negative attitude towards ‘millennials’, and I believe that judging our generation by those with different standards and values is unfair and very one sided. We are different, but our strengths in the workforce, if harnessed correctly can benefit any company.<br />
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First thing you need to know about Generation Y, is that we view ourselves as a part of a community, not a competition. Yes we grew up in a time where everyone earned a trophy, but the confidence we drew from that allowed us to feel secure enough in ourselves to not feel threatened by the success of our peers. Our parents grew up during Cold War Era mentality of competition, a deep desire to be the best. This mentality forces an “every man for himself” attitude towards each other. Generation Y is much more supportive of each other, we are genuinely happy to see our peers succeed and actively help each other out. Trying to motivate us through competition won’t be as successful as challenging us as a team. Previous generations were able to exploit an insecurity to draw out productivity, trying to use that method on millennial is just not going to work. This mentality may not fit into the old corporate line of thinking about expansion, crushing the competition and the bottom line, but maybe teamwork, connecting and working together will help businesses ride out this storm and enter the new world economy.<br />
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The generation before us built empires without thought or care about the effects on the future of the planet, the community or the economy. Growth and expansion fueled the drive for profits, success and domination. It’s a system that is unsustainable, and frankly not one we wish to be a part of and we aren’t spoiled communists for not wanting to be a part of it. Thirty years ago one could work in a company that paid a decent salary, would work for twenty plus years with the same company and then received a pension and benefits. That isn’t a reality for us. There is no loyalty and no security. We are disposable and a commodity expected to be thrilled to be used for the greater good of the corporation. (For the record there is something so “Soviet Block” in that mentality, erasing individuality, creativity and development, and you call us communists?) Sorry if we don’t seem enthused to be a part of that mess.<br />
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Innovation, creativity and individualism are what made America great. We support local business, organic food and quality products. We want to have lives outside of work and don’t wish to be slaves to our jobs; instead we make our careers an integral part of a fuller life. Yes we believe we deserve that kind of lifestyle, but we also believe you deserve it as well. Successful businesses will harness our generation’s enthusiasm, skill, innovation and creativity to build themselves as members of a community, not exploiting their workers and the surrounding community for numbers. We see through that and no amount of marketing will make you successful if you are still focused on dealing with us “the old way”.<br />
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We are a generation of craftsmen. I am so proud to see the level of care and craftsmanship that goes into everything we create. Just visit etsy.com or Kickstarter and see all of the beautiful things we create. Craft beers, food, tattoos, art, design and technology, the bar has been raised on the quality of things we produce. We have created art forms that either didn’t exist or developed old forgotten ones and have taken them to the next level. You can find a fine, handmade rocking chair much easier than you could have ten years ago, and there is something really cool about that. The failure of the corporate conglomerate, big box, cookie cutter economy has forced us to be creative, focus on generating income ourselves with small business and freelancing. We want to see each other succeed and actively work towards that goal.<br />
The crumbling of the economy kept us stagnant us for a few years, and we continue to struggle in this world that hasn’t quite adjusted to our way of doing things yet. Yes, we are taking longer to get established and get on our feet, but it just isn’t economically feasible to not be this way. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I lived with my grandparents for a year in my mid-twenties and I am so grateful that I had that time to connect with them. My grandmother is one of my best friends. Our family bonds and appreciation are stronger than they had been in the past.<br />
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Past articles have called us self-absorbed and shallow because of social media sites. I think our generation is more connected to each other than ever. The internet has given us the ability to become a global community. We can organize and change the world in a few key strokes, but we are also involved off line with our local communities. There is no way our generation will get a job without interning or volunteering. Studies show we log more volunteer time than previous generations and we like to be active members in our communities, globally and locally. We are earth and health conscious, like well made, quality products that benefit the communities we live in. It doesn’t fall in line with the values our parents had, nor does it follow the values the media has tried to instill in us. We are an anomaly formed by a mix of structure and chaos. We support individuality, creativity and community. We are incredibly special and are already changing the world. I am proud of all of us in our generation and can’t wait to see the world we build.<br />
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L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3759603726726022382.post-50224455039057929842011-01-17T18:49:00.000-08:002011-01-17T19:31:38.601-08:00If they were the Januaryists...we might have avioded this whole Cold War entirelyI'm considering resurrecting Tesla to be a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">coconspiritor</span> on a weather control device. I need to eliminate January. It is a miserable month. Aside from personal tragedy and my apparent aversion for pants, washing my hair and getting out of bed, this month has always been the worst month of the year. Everybody is fat, sick and has no desire to do anything. It is fucking cold.<br />We live in a wonderful world of the Slap Chop, interactive <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">videogames</span> and somewhere on this planet you can feed a child for thirty three cents a day, yet we still have Januaries and terrorism. This has to be one of the top failings of humanity, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">in between</span> the destruction of the environment, the Spanish Inquisition and the breakup of the Spice Girls.<br />We get through January and like some traumatizing event, we shove it back into our minds. Remember last January? No. Because come March we live like January never existed...a fog, or a bad dream that melted with the snow.<br />Wrapped in a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">snuggy</span> and drinking stale holiday beer I speak out against this terrible month. I hope that this year's January brings lessons learned, to plan a getaway to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Australia</span> or just take off and sleep until Groundhog Day. January Awareness needs to spread so we no longer suffer in the cold and silence.L. A Lenz http://www.blogger.com/profile/15343509824335326517noreply@blogger.com0