Would Emerson Play Farmville?

I found myself with a strange and almost uncanny addiction to Farmville. A game online where one can experience all the fun of farming with none of the work. As we see society shift finally from traditional to modern and even the average farm being more technologically advanced than every imagined I wonder what would Emerson think. Would he play Farmville? Would he be upset with me that I know nothing of what it means to really farm? To really be with nature? Or would he find my attempts at harvesting elephants and penguins at the same time? Would he approve that I have spent money to imporve my chances in the game? Feeding the economy and capitalism he wanted so badly to escape from? Or would he be content that I found a way to express myself with my purple fences and Japanese castle? I guess I’ll just have to keep asking. Maybe I’ll get my answer.


Meditation on Poe

I find Poe’s work compelling. There’s something in his mastery of the human spirit and of the senses that just pulls me in. I find my journey to be more in line with his than with Emerson’s short of being found dead on the streets. I want my writing to be like that. I want to be able to capture the human spirit in such a way. Though I do find his work scary, it’s in such a beautiful way that I don’t mind the gore. It’s all honestly an art form to me.

Meditation on Slave Narrative

I found myself conflicted by the slave narrative. As much as I respect that as a part of my culture and heritage there are too many issues surrounding it. Was this really written by an escaped slave? How could they write if almost none of them knew how to read? How do we know this isn’t just propaganda? Why risk capture again just to publish a novel? It’s all just too much that makes me really question the validity of a lot of it.

Meditation on Emerson

I love Emerson. I adore his work. I quote him often. I write his quotes on my arm like a sad school girl off dreaming of some long lost lover but my love is his ideas. Here are a few quotes I have taken from Emerson


  • We are all mystics in our own way
  • Grief too will make us idealists

Thinking on “The Lorax” Insanity

I remember vividly “The Lorax” being the first book I checked out of the Arlington Public Library. I love that book. I loved the story. I wanted to so badly to save the world and help this little furry creature on his quest to help protect the world. But then…the hype. The hours and hours of being forced to watch the trailer of this film. How does Danny Devito end up getting this role? I know he looks like the Lorax but that’s no excuse! When it comes down to it, is commercialism how to save the world? Is brand placement and marketing and making literally millions of dollars going to bring back the delapadated forest? I encourage you all to take a peak at what it really means to save the world. Is just watching a movie enough to clear your conscience?

Meditation on Thoreau

I found Thoreau hard to swallow. There, I said it. I have had this struggle since I first grappled with “Walden” in high school. Yes, I would love to galavant around the forest and stop paying taxes and frolic through the woods with no cares or concerns at all. But I can’t. I have bills, I have class, I have a family that needs me and one that I have to support. Don’t get me wrong, I love “Walden” I think the imagery is beautiful. I love the idea of being connected to nature and liking nature as much as Thoreau does. Here’s my major meditation: I would absolutely love to be as close to nature as Thoreau, I shall strive now to be closer to nature but not to ignore my responsibilities to society and begin eating woodland vermit and skipping through a lake.

New Inspired Poetry

I realized recently that I was far more deeply touched by Emerson’s life and work that expected. Similar to him, after my mother died, I promptly fled the country and returned a new woman. Transformed and entirely too happy to continue writing and making observations about life. So with that I ended up shouting to the heavens and my banter at the moon became this poem posted below.


To the Infinite Universe

                Dedicated to my Mother. Who always maintained my transcendental spirit.

O, Infinite Universe

                In your majesty and grandness you stand there mocking me

And yet with trembling lips

Tearful eyes

A broken heart grown cold with time

Racing thoughts of a mind forever unsettled

                I will be Self Reliant

Infinite Universe

                With your vastness you stand to confuse me

                Cloak me in darkness

                Take away all that I love

And yet I stand

My fist curled

Shaking up to heaven I raise my voice and exclaim

                I will be Self Reliant

O, Nature, wondrous oneness that we are all a part of

I will stand at the end of this journey

Connected to your vastness

And be then Self Reliant