Oh! This blog.
Worry not, my faithful followers. I haven’t been eaten by a bear or abducted by aliens or fallen down a deep bug infested hole in the middle of a secluded rain forest.
I’ve been busy. You know, doing stuff.
I’m glad you asked.
The month of May marks the end of my semester and usually goes one of two ways: 1) I am overcome with creativity and spend endless hours either at the keyboard writing like a madwoman or viewing the world through a camera lens snapping photographs of every unfortunate bug and blossom to cross my path; or 2) I am overwhelmed by life, say screw it all, and overdose on trash television.
Sadly, it’s been the latter kind of month, and consequently, my brain is in full-on decomp after watching an endless stream of Ancient Aliens, Married to Medicine (an all-time low for me), and the Real Housewives of Orange County.
I blame science. Specifically, historical geology.
I spent four months immersed in millions/billions of years of earth history- from its origins to the revelation of geologic time to the theories of evolution and plate tectonics. I studied orogenies (the process of mountain building – get your mind out of the gutter), sedimentary deposition environments, bio – and litho – facies, faulting and folding, and learned to age date and correlate rock formations. I can identify a whole slew of fossils based on a laundry list of characteristics. If you ask nicely, I can even give you their kingdom, genus, species and period of existence.
While this is all fascinating stuff, it is not conducive to cultivating creativity – neither is “reality” television. I spent the first 2/3 of May stuck in “left-brain” mode. I couldn’t see the beauty of a rolling field of wildflowers. I only saw an eroded anticline left over from a Mississippian period thrust event. I wondered if it was faulted; if the adjoining basin was filled with terrestrial material; if there was evidence of a transgressive or regressive marine environment; what fossils might be present.
Disturbing, I know.
To combat this troubling trend, I tried to drown my inner geologist with anything and everything offered up by the Bravo network. It worked for a while. Of course, there comes a point when one realizes that consuming junk might be satisfying in the interim, but it lacks sustainability and, in the long-term, is detrimental – sorta like Oreos.
So, what does one do when faced with a situation such as this?
Go to the nearest art museum; attend a historical lecture; read some frivolous fiction; take a trip to the beach.
Kick that “right-brain” bitch out of bed and tell her to get her shit together.
I did. I feel much better now.