Studio 2

Studio

Deliberate Steps.
Structured Talk.
Sequence of ideas.
Responsible for self.
Responsible to community.

(Rules in a classroom, rules in life)


A community of two,
becomes one.
What relational thinking
are we constructing?

(a sexual union that leads to marriage?)

We could execute
procedures
we memorized.

(We could do what is done on TV and in the movies,
but it never works that way, does it?)

It’s not what I desire
to observe.

(I don’t want to play that game with you. I want honesty, truth, and a desire that rings true in body and bones.)


Our discourse
(planned at full moon night)
worthwhile till disconnect.

(Those planned telephone calls where everything important is left unsaid.)

Procedural;
Step by step.
Direct model.
One to one correspondence.

(In the world of dating, where scores are kept, it always seems to lead to a sexual relationship, that looks to be two becoming one but is actually just a flagrant abuse of self.)

Works for math,
Effective execution.

(In math it is never messy. It’s logical and the out come is predictable….)

But Life litters
roadways with white plastic
grocery bags, tied in knots
and ripped out bottoms.

( life is just so much debris we wade through to find treasure.)

Discourse is silence,
Messy pauses,
In empty cans,
Slimy with pregnant molds.

(It’s all those unsaid things we don’t dare talk about yet.)

Steps that seem deliberate
are just missteps off the path.
Trod through beggar’s lice-
Words get hung up in socks and trouser pants.
Lodging in the elastic band of underwear.

(the word we don’t say get caught up, hung up, in the barriers we create.)

Construction is haphazard,
lopsided,
first my side in power
then yours…

(So often it is about who has power over whom? Not a mutual loving relationship but who can one up the other. Who can beat to submission.)


This “science”


of procreation
with pleasure,
flops,
bed ward,
in fiction…

(Can sex in real life ever reach the heights of fiction?)

Yet, relentless in our practice,
high expectations.
Selecting and sequencing,
To make sense of…
“things”.

(Yet as humans we keep trying to find that perfect mate. We use and discard each other instead of persevering through our lifely sorrows with each other. Our hearts are hardened towards each other.)

II. Direct Model ( Ok lets get real with this mathematical metaphor)


Direct Model: Joining. (SEX)
It’s hard (i.e. difficult) (you may take that the wrong way…)
To have 2 seals on a rock,
2 swimming in the ocean…
(and all I can think of is you…) (How can I concentrate when all I can think of is you?)

There is no key word to indicate operation.
(Story problems have got to give the right clues so we know which operation to do. Just so you must give me clues to what you feel?)

The action of joining- (that would be sex)
They jumped in to join the swimming seals…
1 man + 1 woman
Result: Unknown. (And what happens to people when the sex they give is not in marriage, as God wants it to be? The results are not the known because that is not how we were created.)

1+1 = ?

(Oh we think the answer is so simple but if it is not for marriage what the hell good does it do?)




A touch to cube, (a union)
Pulling toward self. (If it is not a union, it is destruction, pulling selves apart.)

Derived facts:
Separating.
(the story supports subtraction- a taking away- could be of self- or the destruction of a relationship.)

Not a sense of step,
but a relationship
Where numbers commune,
communicate on a number line.
Adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing
are not procedures
but relationships.
( Math is about relationships. Just as life is about relationships. It’s not about physical pleasure only but about that deep connection to each other.)

What connections are left?
And are they true for every situation?
Would you conjecture with me?
(I wonder…?)
Or are we just a broad generalization of failure?

( So are we going to be a couple in love for the rest of our lives or just another fling in emotions? And if it is a fling it is failure.))

Analyze this:
Which relationship might simplify the solution to the problem?

To be joined
or separate?

(So do we try to make this work by joining in mind and body? Or do we just go our own way?)

To sort the factors,
Graph the results
Determine the end result?
A pictorial depiction of the relationship….
We could make a pro and con list, make a T chart, hey we could even make pictures….)

Do the genuine questions I ask myself
Reveal the pattern,
Or disclose the operation?

( So if I am honest with myself can I even entertain a stay motion?)

Are we just a direct model
Or does our relationship
Advance our thinking?

(Can we change to suit each other because our love is strong- I fear not….)

In the name of Algebra
And all that is math
Can we make the connection?

(Just because we can make it work in math it is never that simple in life and because I ask the question belies my doubts… What I want I fear cannot happen. I am sad.)

Studio

Studio

Deliberate Steps.

Structured Talk.

Sequence of ideas.

Responsible for self.

Responsible to community.





A community of two,

becomes one.

What relational thinking

are we constructing?



We could execute

procedures

we memorized.



It’s not what I desire

to observe.





Our discourse

(planned at full moon night)

worthwhile till disconnect.



Procedural;

Step by step.

Direct model.

One to one correspondence.



Works for math,

Effective execution.



But Life litters

roadways with white plastic

grocery bags, tied in knots

and ripped out bottoms.



Discourse is silence,

Messy pauses,

In empty cans,

Slimy with pregnant molds.



Steps that seem deliberate

are just missteps off the path.

Trod through beggar’s lice-

Words get hung up in socks and trouser pants.

Lodging in the elastic band of underwear.



Construction is haphazard,

lopsided,

first my side in power

then yours…



This “science”





of procreation

with pleasure,

flops,

bed ward,

in fiction…





Yet, relentless in our practice,

high expectations.

Selecting and sequencing,

To make sense of…

“things”.













II. Direct Model





Direct Model: Joining.

It’s hard (i.e. difficult)

To have 2 seals on a rock,

2 swimming in the ocean…

(and all I can think of is you…)

There is no key word to indicate operation.



The action of joining-

They jumped in to join the swimming seals…

1 man + 1 woman

Result: Unknown.



1+1 =









A touch to cube,

Pulling toward self.



Derived facts:

Separating.



Not a sense of step,

but a relationship

Where numbers commune,

communicate on a number line.

Adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing

are not procedures

but relationships.



What connections are left?

And are they true for every situation?

Would you conjecture with me?

(I wonder…?)

Or are we just a broad generalization of failure?



Analyze this:

Which relationship might simplify the solution to the problem?



To be joined

or separate?



To sort the factors,

Graph the results

Determine the end result?

A pictorial depiction of the relationship….





Do the genuine questions I ask myself

Reveal the pattern,

Or disclose the operation?



Are we just a direct model

Or does our relationship

Advance our thinking?



In the name of Algebra

And all that is math

Can we make the connection?

Mapping: Love 2nd draft

Mapping: Love

Deliberate Steps.
Structured Talk.
Sequence of ideas.
Responsible for self.
Responsible to community.


A community of two,
becomes one.
What relational thinking
are we constructing?

We could execute
procedures
we memorized.

It’s not what I desire
to observe.


Our discourse
(planned at full moon night)
worthwhile till disconnect.

Procedural;
Step by step.
Direct model.
One to one correspondence.

Works for math,
Effective execution.

But Life litters
roadways with white plastic
grocery bags, tied in knots
and ripped out bottoms.

Discourse is silence,
Messy pauses,
In empty cans,
Slimy with pregnant molds.

Steps that seem deliberate
are just missteps off the path.
Trod through beggar’s lice-
Words get hung up in socks and trouser pants.
Lodging in the elastic band of underwear.

Construction is haphazard,
lopsided,
first my side in power
then yours…

This “science”


of procreation
with pleasure,
flops,
bed ward,
in fiction…


Yet, relentless in our practice,
high expectations.
Selecting and sequencing,
To make sense of…
“things”.






II. Direct Model


Direct Model: Joining.
It’s hard (i.e. difficult)
To have 2 seals on a rock,
2 swimming in the ocean…
(and all I can think of is you…)
There is no key word to indicate operation.

The action of joining-
They jumped in to join the swimming seals…
1 man + 1 woman
Result: Unknown.

1+1 =




A touch to cube,
Pulling toward self.

Derived facts:
Separating.

Not a sense of step,
but a relationship
Where numbers commune,
communicate on a number line.
Adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing
are not procedures
but relationships.

What connections are left?
And are they true for every situation?
Would you conjecture with me?
(I wonder…?)
Or are we just a broad generalization of failure?

Analyze this:
Which relationship might simplify the solution to the problem?

To be joined
or separate?

To sort the factors,
Graph the results
Determine the end result?
A pictorial depiction of the relationship….


Do the genuine questions I ask myself
Reveal the pattern,
Or disclose the operation?

Are we just a direct model
Or does our relationship
Advance our thinking?

In the name of Algebra
And all that is math
Can we make the connection?

Mapping: Love

Deliberate Steps.
Structured Talk.
Sequence of ideas.
Responsible for self.
Responsible to community.


A community of two,
becomes one.
What relational thinking
are we constructing?

We could execute
procedures
we memorized.

It’s not what I desire
to observe.


Our discourse
(planned at full moon night)
worthwhile till disconnect.

Procedural;
Step by step.
Direct model.
One to one correspondence.

From couch to bed
In 60 seconds flat.
Litters,
the science of procreation
with pleasure.

Relentless in our practice,
High expectations.
Selecting and sequencing,
To make sense of…
“things”.




II. Direct Model


Direct Model: Joining.
It’s hard (i.e. difficult)
To have 2 seals on a rock,
2 swimming in the ocean…
(and all I can think of is you…)
There is no key word to indicate operation.

The action of joining-
They jumped in to join the swimming seals…
1 man + 1 woman
Result: Unknown.

1+1 =




A touch to cube,
Pulling toward self.

Derived facts:
Separating.

Not a sense of step,
but a relationship
Where numbers commune,
communicate on a number line.
Adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing
are not procedures
but relationships.

What connections are left?
And are they true for every situation?
Would you conjecture with me?
(I wonder…?)
Or are we just a broad generalization of failure?

Analyze this:
Which relationship might simplify the solution to the problem?

To be joined
or separate?

To sort the factors,
Graph the results
Determine the end result?
A pictorial depiction of the relationship….


Do the genuine questions I ask myself
Reveal the pattern,
Or disclose the operation?

Are we just a direct model
Or does our relationship
Advance our thinking?

In the name of Algebra
And all that is math
Can we make the connection?

Hansel and Gretel

Hansel and Gretel

Slaps of canned frosting,
Smeared white,
Against graham cracker brown.
Sticky fingers lick the edges,
Smudge the nose.
Crumbs shattering
Against an Umpqua milk carton.
(Forests meeting river,
a cottage stacked behind
Lodge pole pine and Douglas fir.)

Tears run rivers
Through candy muck,
Staining a child’s face.
Starving in a forest
Of sugar cane.
(A Hunger game)

The house the child built:
4 squares of graham,
pyramid roof,
(a Nile of blue ribbon icing.)]
chalky globs cementing striped candies,
licorice strings (red and black)
M and m’s, life savors, confetti dots…
timbering in its lopsidedness,
a house built upon sugar crystals.

II.
Hansel and Gretel
On a begging path,
Scattering the crumbs of their lives,
To find a way back home.
(crumbs on forest floors,
feed the hunger, lose the path
stir cravings of gluttony
in evil birds with metallic feathers,
crashing in the quiet wind, trapped in branches of dead-
People’s limbs hung up to dry,)

Their eyes in wonder of gingerbread house,
Lost in woods.
A home, sweet taste,
Breaking off edges to nibble.
Flypaper to attract-
Blue bottles, twitching in death,
Swinging gallows like from the ceiling.

III.

But there are witches in Gingerbread Houses,
Children.
They live in walls,
Trick your eyes with gummy worms,
Crawling through pricky holes.

Their hair, searing strands,
Writhing snake like tangles,
Caressing to stone,
With a touch of venom,
A pearl upon a fang,
burning misery
upon faces of children.
They spread their soot,
Corner to peak,
With whispery breath of mordant bile,
Dribbles down their pointy chins.

Don’t look up my child,
Nor sideways to dusky corners.
Wedge the door!
One foot behind the other.
Scamper to the stair of glossy cane,
Fudge through toffee stones,
AND
Run, run, run!

IV.

One child to another-
Eyes wink shut in sleep-
Winkem, Blinkem, Nod
of a Nightmare.

And I don’t know how to end
this and give you back your dreams.

There are monsters out there.
Come close!
I’ll hold you tight.
Teach you the weapons to use:


“You can READ your way out of anything”

“Write your way to comfort.”

“The sums you add
will multiply your days of gladness.”


Come listen to my story…

Authority

By what authority,
This Higher Thing,
That knows the names and number on all the stars?
Places them like thumb tacks
in the night of bulletin boards.
In a longitude and latitude,
not heard nor understood.
Line, tacked upon a border,
Bulletin of earth and sky.

Our selfish permission
Granted
And little understood.

(He doesn’t need our authority
or permission
to badge his works,
medal his words)

Earthy foundry that He alone created.

We forget our dusty beginnings
In prides of lying.
Puffed up adders of law and sin.
Arrogant in our questioning of authority,
A peacock of ignorance.
His command running swiftly to the earthy
Border of named for stars.

II.
“You can’t debate unbelief.”

III.

The door behind the curtain,
Wedged open with a foot,
Sandaled dirt of a man,
God incarnate.
The hardness of granite
rooted to the earth,
binding up the heart in a litter
of diamonds of agnost,
slamming shut the heavens.
Unbelief, as hard as heart.

John’s baptism
Their crucifixion fence.
Pharisees.
Religious leaders.
Man.
Me.

IV.

I am convicted of my sin,
Nailed on my cross,
When I sit in church.
I see it.
Feel it,
Breathe it.
The stench of offal, viscera,
Carrion.
I sit in urine,
Leachate of my transgressions.
A goat wandering pits and valleys
Of my creation.

My death is no sign.
My life no boundary.
I hear the whispery crepe,
Leaves,
Rustle,
Through the authority of vines,
Left to wither in mid day sun.
(Plastic grapes cradled in a ceiling border.)

And in the waft of rot,
Surrounded and surrendered
The stubbornness of my sewage,
I hear His call.
Acknowledge His authority,
Turn myself inside out.

“ I cannot by my own reason or strength”
come to my Savior.

He must break the wall
Between city and dump
With Water, with Word,
That guards our unbelief.
Only then can I in all unnaturalism,
Repent.

V.
He knows my name,
My sins,
And pins me in his home above.
Death closes my eyes.
In seconds,
They are opened in heaven.
In death my eyes well shut,
Sleep like in what looks like unbelief.
Unsealed by Water and His Word.
I’ll blink to Heaven’s lights. a city with no walls,
Between my God and me.
Face to face for eternity.