AN UNPLEASANT DREAM

I don't sleep well at night. Basically I'm a night owl. So after I wake up around 6:30 a.m. I have a cup of coffee and a cigarette I go back to bed and sleep a couple of hours. 

This morning I had a dream. In my dream people had gathered in my childhood home for a memorial.  The deceased  had died in a plane crash and his death was shocking and tragic. He was a charismatic and inspiring youth group leader. People who had gathered were all his disciples and I knew all of them. We used to be in the same organization, in the same groups. We had meetings together, went to camp together, and some of us had attended the same high school. 

Throughout the memorial I had a feeling that I was invisible. People past me by without a glance, no one said hello. I had the feeling that no one recognized me even though I remembered them. I didn't remember all their names but I remembered their faces. So I started to go up to some and tell them my name and ask theirs. Some of them would say "Oh, hi" and then walk away. Some didn't even bother to tell me their name. 

They all seemed to know and remember each other. I started to think maybe I looked odd, so I took off my jacket. I though they didn't like our house, so I started to straighten things up. I thought I wasn't being a good host so I started to offer tea, coffee and soft drinks. Nothing seemed to work, people were still ignoring me. 

Then suddenly it hit me. After all these years, they were still looking down on me like they had in high school.  I had moved to Tehran from a small town at tenth grade.  Back then in Iran it was customary to think that people from villages and small towns were less educated, backwards and in general, inferior.  Therefor I only had two friends, one was my childhood best friend who had moved from the same place as I, and the other was a nice person who had looked beyond where I had come from.  

I remember even then I was surprised at their behavior. I had never in my life experienced discrimination. Back in my old town I went to a public Iranian high school and even though I was from a religious minority I never felt discriminated against. If anything both teachers and students looked up to the Armenian students because we were good students, well mannered, and better dressed. However in Tehran in an Armenian high school among my own people I was being discriminated against and ignored. 

The behavior of my classmates puzzled me because I didn't see myself as inferior in any way.
I was smart, well read, came from an affluent family and dressed very modern. My mini skirts were as short as any of theirs and my platform shoes were as high as theirs. I wore knee high boots with my minis and long winter coats. My jeans were from America which my sister who lived there would bring for me. I don't remember being much bothered with the attitude of my classmates. I had a boyfriend at the time and he would take me to lunch everyday so I didn't even have time to make new friends. At the youth organization as the girls would ignore me, the boys liked me just fine. I remember hanging out with the boys and not feeling so bad for getting the cold shoulder by the girls.

This was a strange dream to say the least.  I've been thinking about it since waking up. I haven't seen any of these people since I left Iran, nor do I care to see.  It would be interesting however to see if they would behave like they did in my dream or if they have been enlightened. 

I wonder. 


P.S. I wish a psychologist would interpret my dream. I'm sure it says a lot about me as well as about my bigoted society.  

What Do I Stand For?

  

It's good to reaffirm your values and beliefs from time to time. I've been wondering about what do I stand for, what is important for me and the ideas that I value most. I had to think about this for a while and put things in order. So here it is.

• Freedom to live in peace
• Justice for all humans 
• Love and kindness towards children and women
• For all people to live comfortably and have enough to eat
• A clean environment
• Free education for all children of the world
• No more wars
• Democracy for all nations
• No nuclear weapons
• To treat animals with compassion

For me this would be an ideal world. I hope we can get there someday.

My Relationship With God

Every night right before I fall sleep I say to myself "Thank you God for this roof over my head, thanks for the one sleeping by my side and thanks for my children". It's difficult for me to admit to doing this because it sounds as if I'm praying. The reason it's difficult to admit this is because I am an atheist. I have been an atheist since I was probably a seven year old child. The reason I have been an Atheist is because I have always believed that if there was a God there would be no Armenian genocide. The sad truth is that the majority of Armenian children are taught about the genocide very early. That is our way to insure no one forgets, that each new generation feels the same sense of injustice and rage that the previous generations have felt, and also know that the Turks have not accepted the crimes they committed, that justice has not been served, that we still need our motherland back. As I became older and learned about the history of mankind my belief in none existence of Gad became stronger. I found out that there has been so many other genocides, so many injustices around the world. They happened in the ancient times and modern times. Atrocities happened in every nation, in every country, by people against their own kind and by their enemies. In a smaller scale horrible crimes are committed every day against women, children the elderly and last but not least against animals. If we are to believe in the kind of Gad that the different religions of the world are telling us about, that God is all knowing, he is everywhere, he is just, he is loving, he loves children and animals then it becomes hard to believe. I'm not a theologists, I have never wanted to read any religious books nor study any religion and maybe that is the problem, I don't know. When there were still people in my family that wanted to convince me about the existence of God they would say things such as God knows best. He knows what he is doing, everything has a reason. Even when horrible things happen to good people there is a good reason behind it. I buy none of it.

I do agree with Einstein because the universe is incomprehensible but all the rest not. 

That deep emotional conviction of the presence of a superior reasoning power, which is revealed in the incomprehensible universe, forms my idea of God.

Albert Einstein  

Reminiscence

I don't know why but I can't forget that Christmas long ago when I was 14 years old. We still lived in my home town Arak in Iran. My three older sisters were already married and gone away. One of them was visiting us that Christmas and had brought two friends along. They were a couple, an Armenian man and his American wife. My sisters and I were doing what we did every holiday night. We had lots of great food, homemade wine and were singing old Armenian songs all night long. The Armenian man had become very emotional from our songs. The songs we used to sing were mostly about love of  our homeland Armenia, mothers love, separation from family and such. Come to think of it they were all tear-jerkers. No wonder the fellow was getting teary eyed. I also became very emotional just seeing him so effected by our patriotism and unbridled nationalism. I drank a lot of wine and sang my heart out. I don't remember what I was doing but my family got worried about me and called a doctor. He gave me a shot and told my parents to let me sleep it off. The next day my parents didn't say anything to me, but my sister kept asking me why I had gotten so drunk. It was hard to explain, it still is. I think I was feeling sorry for that man because he never had a large family. He never was in an Armenian community. He had never heard such beautiful songs of yearning and love. He had married an American, could never be or raise his kids as pure Armenians like us. I could see in his tearful eyes the lamentation and his lost identity. To me that was tragic. I guess that is why I drank too much because I didn't know how to handle the knowledge of that great sorrow.

Layers

     When I listen to a song or look at a ainting or read a poem I think of the process that took place before the song or the painting or the poem was created. It makes me think of a woman getting dressed. She uses body lotion first, atiperspirant second, puts on her lace panties and bra, pulls on a fresh pair of jeans, a nice T-shirt, some funky jewelery, slinky high hills. She applies make up and finally puts perfume behind her ears and dabs a little in her cleavage. She is now ready to face the world. Off course I know not all women do these things. At least not all of them and not in the same order. It all depends on where they are going, what they will be doing or who they will be seeing. When I begin to paint, I have a core concept, it's vague and doesn't have a form. As I explore my feelings more, I start choosing colors.  The first brush strokes are pure emotion and I can't stop until I'm spent. Then I take a step back and look at it anew. If it satisfies me I'm done, but sometimes I feel it's not finished so I add touches that complete my though. I won't stop until I feel that I have expressed my core idea and the vague feeling is not vague anymore. 

Connected Disconnected

Morning coffee, cigarette, check emails, check home phone messages, cell phone voice messages, check Facebook, check twitter, collect snail mail. Nothing vitally important, earth shattering, or remotely amusing. Feeling bored, blaze, disgusted, and lonely. These are the times we live in. Connected to our world yet disconnected from humanity. 

Satisfaction

Truth be told sometimes I hate myself. I can understand others better than I can understand myself. What I don't understand about myself is why I'm never satisfied. I do whatever I please most of the time. I talk to my family, I visit them, I see friends, I keep myself busy doing anything that strikes my fancy. I read, paint, garden, cook, eat, swim. I'm connected to friends via Facebook, I read world news, I know whats going on in general, I follow subjects that interest me. But, and this is the big but, I'm never satisfied. I keep wanting something I don't know what it is. I feel hungry for something, thirsty. I keep thinking about this missing substance but I can't put my finger on it. But there is still this missing link that keeps me unfulfilled, yearning, homesick for this unknown matter.