I give him laughter because he gives me tears


One of my best friends is going to name his firstborn “Doctor”. I approve of this sentiment because he’s one of the most hilarious people I know.

When I look at his sense of humor and desire to consider me a close friend, I see a pattern in his willingness to study miseries. He doesn’t push them under a rug, he holds them up to the light for all to see, and laughter ensues.

As laughter is the best medicine, I question what medicine really is, and think he will make a good doctor, with love.


Building Blocks to Preserve Friendships

Since my experiences in managing and owning businesses have consistently agreed with the notion to not mix business and friendship, is it a good plan to start a non-profit with my friends?

As an Executive Director in Training, I can only hope that a link to this article can be a block to build and preserve, the relationships that I hold dear. From the onset of the organizing stage(which is now), I’m planning how to distribute power effectively, so my fellow workers will enjoy contributing, to fulfill the mission.

The board will act as a body of accountability, keeping me from becoming a fascist dictator, but how can I behave as an equal from the beginning? I’m not sure I can, or should. Is the world an equal place? Do I believe in equality? I believe in preserving the rights of individuals to pursue equality, but not in the idea that it will ever exist.

I have talents and skills that I’ve spent my whole life building. I cannot pretend to be less than I am, so others will feel good. No matter how humble I become, there will always be people who envy me, and wish to spite me out of the unequal options that I have earned, been given, or stopped sharing with them, because they are greedy.

Should I break all of the relationships from my birth, in the interest of starting with a clean slate of privilege, just to earn a less fortunate persons respect? How do I respond to people who are stuck in what they don’t have, and want to shame me for what I do?

I grow weary of friends judgements of me, because I’m lucky enough to have a family that is supportive. Am I generous enough? How does that look? I had a close friend tell me in frustration, that the only reason I ask these questions, is because I’m lucky enough to be able to. Maybe he’s right in calling it “Privileged Guilt”, but then again, has he ever talked to a monk, because I see it as a matter of perception.

In pursuing my dream of TATWIP, and the idea of a shared workspace/volunteer/mentor-ship lifestyle, I’m coming to terms with the idea that it’s okay to build my power. I’ve spent years dismantling it by helping other people, and that has brought me cold nights alone, and a physical weight that reflects my frustrations, for an economy that stomps on people.

I don’t want to be responsible for other people’s tasks, but as a dedicated dreamer, I find that the only way to accomplish them, is to develop a talent for inspiring others, to share in the fruits of my dreams. I will do this by building my power up, and then stripping it from my shoulders when the dream comes to fruition. Stripping it from my shoulders is a visualization they should understand, as who likes a boss? I don’t like being called a boss, do you?

How does this sound to you? I’m broke now, but I don’t have to be. I could be rich if I wanted to, but I’m not motivated by money. My motivation comes from the questions I ask here. Is that guilt? Hoping to preserve my passion to manifest visions, is the only thing that I can hold onto. Does that sound like doubting myself because of your misfortunes?

I know what it feels like to sleep fitfully, while shivering on the ground with a growling stomach. Being homeless can be fun if you choose it. I have lot’s of homeless friends, and others in low places, that bring me happiness.

It’s a matter of hope to me. I know that if I need anything in my life, some of the people who I’ve given my love to, will provide it in the way that they can. Poor people feed me, and are happy to do it, when I’m hungry. Rich people have fun partying with me, fulfilling my need to let loose, when I’m jolly.

The doubts of this article have plagued me, ever since people started telling me I was more lucky than them. I’m Irish, I can’t help that I win games, with an obscene average of balls falling in the hole by accident!!

I’ve been weary of the perception of being better off than others, for too long. It makes me sick to be alive, and I can only write this in the hope that my motivations, can survive the guilt trips in the future, with less impact on my time and energy.

“They harbor a secret hatred, for the prettiest girl in the room.”

Are you harboring a resentment of my privilege and power? Do you want some of mine? I’ve got lot’s to give. I just gave you some here. It’s the power of being humble, while aspiring to excellence.

I’m a teacher, and don’t make any money at it. Does this stop me from doing it? No. Do you love money? I don’t think you do. I think you love what money can do. Do you love what money can do for you more, or what it can do for others that you care about?

Welcome to my reality friend. I’ll be building my power back up, as I’m single and ready to change that again, while planning to get you laid too.

I’ve had enough satisfying love in my life, and seen enough misery painted on other people’s love life, to know that hooking you up with somebody I know, could potentially be more fun and easier, than falling in love again for me.

It’s always been a tricky thing for me to navigate the halls of power, while wanting to share it. Reading about what women are attracted to, gave me insight into why I feel this way. I think it was a wiki how, or something of that nature, but it’s the reason why I’m an Executive Director in training: My potential to fulfill all of the requirements of that attraction, makes it my biggest vulnerability.

For example, I was given social power from birth. My parents are “upstanding middle class” citizens, that other people might consider “upper middle class”. With my childhood came the training of answering a telephone acceptably as, “Hello, this is Benjamin, may I ask who’s calling please?” With that one sentence nailed, I’ve got a happy middle class career started, as a receptionist.

Should I be a receptionist then? Will you accept me as your Director? Do you think I have anything to teach you? Do you think I am humble enough, to accept that I’m potentially your best student, as I admire your talents for skills I don’t have?

I’ve gained ten pounds, and the pink of my skin is starting to turn into a tan, because I’ve managed to humble myself enough to process the shame, of asking for a place to stay with a full refrigerator.

I’m sitting on a patio in the sun, looking at a swimming pool, and doing my best to relax for the sake of my recovery, from failing in my ambitions again. From a year of street wisdom survival, sleeping in the same place only twice and moving on, I’ve managed to stay put for a month.

Gaining ten pounds for you might be easy, but it’s never been easy for me. I’m still ten pounds underweight from where I started three years ago, and it feels good to be building myself back up.

I want more weight in muscle than I ever had. I want to be healthy and strong. I aspire to be awesome, because I’m thankful of the things that make me feel lucky, and it’s the only thing I’ll accept as a goal.

I’m thankful for my family and friends. For the people who put up with my latest trail of tears, while I faced my worst fears. As the pounds bring me back to feeling as weird as I can in a healthy way, and the days turn into harmonic correspondence with people who share common dreams, I’m visualizing what the campaign for my purposes, will look like.

If I wanted to be elected to public office, I wouldn’t have published a slice of what I have. If power dominated my appetite, I would have kept my mouth shut and my head down, while building loads of it controlling other people’s effort. That’s not my dream, and will never be my path to long-term contentment, as an Artist Builder.

I feel blessed in my life, and always have. As far as I’m concerned, my opportunities have always been prevalent, potentially awesome, and particularly lucky.

Watching a video about drive, squashed my doubts as an artist, about how money isn’t my motivator. I don’t need to feel guilty anymore for the blessings I’ve been given, as I’m doing my best to live an ethical life, in the only way I can.

My father taught me how to work hard, and that volunteering for the wealth of my community, is the healthiest purpose I could build. He has a masters in business, but uses it for the greater good, instead of personal riches. I love that about him, and as he does, so do I.

Let’s do it folks. If you want to donate money or time, excellent, as I have tools, toys, titles, and a deed for dedication, and would love to have the dream of TATWIP bear fruit!! If not, that’s cool too, as that list of millionaires I keep mentioning is waiting for a team like ours, to remedy the doubts they haven’t addressed, like I did here.

Focus Stall Ranting

I enjoyed your article, as I also find myself in the unenviable position, of freezing my life due to heart breaks, to reflect on the patterns in the pain of the past. As you said, my symptoms are flight, fight, and freeze.

On my blogging adventure, I’m fighting by writing for the growth of my well-being, and yesterday I watched an interesting video on the study of perspective in time, that helps build my serenity for that purpose.

In the flight from emotional pain over the last year, I’ve become fascinated by how time relates to my spirituality and identity. It has a harsh impact on the judgements of others for who I am(an emotional trigger you shared too),so you I hope this video helps you too. Food for thought in The Secret Powers of Time.  The only criticism I would give, is that I wouldn’t choose to represent the present tense derogatorily as “Present Hedonist”, as I find the spiritual practice of “Mindfullness”, and living in the moment, bring me contentment.

I used my desire to comment on your article, as a motivator to edit my long list of backlogged drafts, so thanks for sharing your struggle, it inspired me to improve this article from 2012:

Why am I doubting the darkness, and interrogating the sun? Why does the cold make me angry, and the heat make me sad? What is this thing that makes me look up, expecting to see the ceiling, and finding the closet floor? What is the combination of the lock to the cellar door?

Why am I so tired, with rest evading me like a bouncing deer? Staring at one of my biggest fears, shaking my head and grinning, a mantra uttered to survive. Turning on the music, taking a shower, shaving, turning up the music, dancing, singing, drinking water….

Taking on something simple while physically demanding, as a challenge that will exhaust me to complete. A work that takes all of it away, and leaves me trembling for a different reason, than the one that motivated me to write this.

It’s a precipice, a focus stall, a pit. The scattering fragmentation and suffering of doubts, popping up like bubbles in a boil.

Putting my ear muffs on to cancel out the noise of the chain saws hitting rock, in my head, and again, turning up the music. Dancing to feeling it, loving it as a moment in time. Always as my salvation, the double safeties with end knots, rescuing my lost soul.

A place of absorption with mind whipping like a snake rattle…I’m barely alive. Outside the door lying under the floor, lurks my passions, perseverance, drive, resilience, sanctuary, art, and focus. Play that makes me tall, a work that fixes all.

It’s the decision that’s already been made, and a willingness to pursue it with dogged focus. Getting it done for me, means learning to transcend the focus stalls with grace.

So if you see me with bloodshot eyes and grinning, sweating while lifting, moving at high-speed, know that what you see is glee, buried in an uncontrollable passion to finish.

I have no choice to make at this point. My life has become make or die, and I love being an Artist Builder. Thanks again for inspiring me to lift this back up, by writing about the dynamics of your mental health, and the scientific study of it. Be well.

This is little blue man.  He glows in the dark.  My third puppet.  Made from reclaimed Douglas Fir, Yew wood, and an assortment of semi precious stone beads.

This is little blue man. He glows in the dark, and is my third puppet. Made from reclaimed Douglas Fir, Yew wood, and an assortment of semiprecious stone beads.  His strings are cut, because making him was my passion, and controlling him didn’t bring me happiness.


As a kid

As a kid, one of the things that consistently gives me what I need:

Many things mesmerize me, entrance me with focus, shock me with grace, stun me with beauty, stall me with meanness, or leave me laughing at my flow. Not many of them make me feel everything all at once, for long periods of time.

Love has done that for me, but left in a position to define how I feel when it’s gone, the only thing remaining that’s immediately available to represent what my words cannot, is Art. This art. Any art.

Welcome to my story. I’m absorbing myself in it, wrapping myself in a cocoon of breathes, and singing it in my minds eyes.

I believe in my heart that righteous intention revels at my fingertips, and as I start pieces with my greatest glee hopes, everything will be okay with my love.

It’s like taking a satisfying nap when your tired, having no schedule, no appointments, and only one agenda when you wake up: to focus, and improve.  When did we decide that naps are only for little kids, because as I edit this and hope to improve it for the 20th time, I’m remembering loving to read and write like this at 3 in the morning, when I was eleven.

Looking for what’s next, or editing, is the awkward part. I get sidetracked as curiosity leads me to something different. I pursue a favorite past time like studying an idea, and time is gone.

One of my favorite books to fully embrace a sidetrack, is the thesaurus. It has many forms now, some of them quite fantastic. I still anticipate opening the crisp pages of a new one(to me), maybe a 1962 version, with quotes.

When a word is defined, I am lost in it’s rules and structure. On the other hand when I freely associate an idea, releasing the hold on what I think, and break down the meaning to myself with synonyms and antonyms, then I have a whole picture. This is one of the reasons I enjoy Chinese.

The language as I’m aware of it, is an example of this concept. The words are broken into characters which represent separate things, that combined make a meaning. Deep and strong, ancient texts may be read presently, as the structure of the language holds it’s shape.

My native language of English is constantly changing, and the dictionaries continue to be the biggest collections of definitions on earth, as we redefine words and add new ones like lunatickle.

Living outside the rules, justifications, structure, philosophy, and perceptions of society became a way of life for me as a kid and artist. It’s the questioning of intelligence, education, culture, economics, and design, in order to visualize a symbolization, that expresses my feelings of saturation in the passion to create.

The most accomplished categorization we can give in academia which is recognized worldly as honorable, is given to those who can transcend the fundamental structure of our belief system in order to develop a new idea.  Isn’t that what I just described as the way kids think?

During which point in history did we decide that practical conversation, logical thought, and rational, were superior to illogical creativity, illustrious music, charming social skills, storytelling, intuition, adaptation of perception, motivation towards passionate pursuits over material goods, imagination, visualization, community, sharing, and getting better at playing games?

Why are all the playgrounds being replaced with timid and lame miniaturized versions of what used to be? Something is wrong with this picture.

The shade of color from the background is making me sick, it throws off my balance clashing with the other colors that are me. I wish to build playgrounds so dangerous that the kids who get on them have to be half wild and scared, to dare to play. I hope and pray for this day.

Our basic education structure for the masses reflects this in many ways. Where are the open sourced curriculum plans, alternative grading philosophies, and student led classrooms? Why am I subjected to below par un-fun educational dynamics each time I go to school?

If my life is a school, how should I think about my day to day education in economics and job experiences? The moment I figured out, “O!, now I understand the way compound interest works against me!!”, what was I supposed to do, or think? So this is how it feels to be poor and categorized, labeled, defined, described, or depicted as less valuable?

I will learn from each moment absorbing the world like a sponge, each action of the day becoming a ceremony of the way to become better at what I make, gain new insight into creation, and develop new process towards vision.

It’s a personal R & D department and a lifestyle of enthusiasm for something of value, in a pursuit of Art. So am I claiming this is a doctoral thesis at the bottom of the page, or getting out frustration and avoiding degenerative forms of insanity, by justifying feeling like a fool?

The way of evaluating our perceptions and the world, is based no longer on spiritual faith, feelings, experience, mythology, stories, inherited talents, or intuition, but on science and math.

Proving something to be true makes it true fact, and accepting what we know? These feels docile, sheltered, boring and slow, which describes devolution perfectly.

One of the keys to my happiness is teaching and learning creatively, free associatively, and imaginatively outside the institutionalized education structure. I hope I did this here, feel fee to add what you think anywhere on this website to encourage me on this pursuit.  

Braces for the first piece of furniture I finished with satisfaction.

Toys R Tools Work Iz Play

When I started this blog with help from a friend 5000 miles away, over the phone we came up with the temporary title of “benjaminsreclaimedart”. Over a year later (my software skills are better for wearing soft suits), I have finally changed the address!! This posting was written in anticipation of the moment when I could reveal a name worthy of my energy!!

The bottom of the page is a message to the designer of my icon. TATWIP is not a blog. It’s a dream. A way of life, a train of thought, a philosopy, and an art.

Donate enough money, and I'll remove the shadow so you can see me in rubber boots.....:) How much is enough? 20 million quid will do for starters, this is an expensive dream well worth your donation.

Thank you J-

The hardest thing I can do is make a decision, so bear with me, my mecurial nature is open to suggestions in the air at this step.

It made me feel confused or unclear, like I should draw up some sketches like last time I did this with another designer, giving you a flavor to go from. How much time did this take you? I hope that didn’t come out wierd on your end.

We’re still in the visualization/manifestation/materialization stage. Started thinking maybe just the TTWP put together somehow. Like TWPT, or WPTT or TaT WiP or WiP TaT Or TATWHIPPED. Or WhippedTAT….hmmm. I’ll get out a sketch tonight after work so we can harmonize….Design of logo is something I take really seriously…..Brand recognition.

Free Association:

Professional, school, trades school, break rule, KISS (my best advice to myself, forever: Keep It Simple Stupid), Thought Revolution, Student Teacher, Doctoral Novice, radical proven principle real truth….Purpose….Lifestyle…Scholar With A Blue Collar……Equality….Undomestication….Adaptation…Harmony of learning environment….Building a place where learning is fun. Having built them…..I want to continue to.

Breaking the rules of thought (the other definition of insanity); evolutionary business principles.

Education we can bear to carry in our minds, without needing meditation, and years of practice, to remove every last scrap of crap, the institutionalized system of thought, has programmed into our pawn heads, to dominate, control, and manipulate us, into being tools of a system, meant to keep the rich filthy richer, and the poor starving on the floor of some musty box…..

I sold my biggest possession today….Which means I have a pocket full of Benjamins. I can mail more if need be. Keep doing what your doing. I love it enough, to share the team spirit with the world.