Tag Archives: clowns

Smiling Eyes

During yesterday morning’s meditation, I was just starting to flirt with the edges of bliss when the byatch who lives next door started opening the shutters on her windows, and she does this with a vengeance. Every evening she slams them shut and every morning she slams them open, always wearing over-sized slippers that make irritating thwack-thwack shuffling noises on the concrete. It would be funny if she were wearing a rainbow colored wig and red nose. She’s got all the ineptitude of a clown with none of the charm.

Randy clown(This is a real clown. His name is Randy. He’s very funny.)

The shutters make jarring metal-on-metal screeches that fire directly into my eardrums, a barrage of painful sound bullets tearing through my equanimity. The woman seems to be taking out her anger and frustration with the universe. My gut reaction has become a sudden eruption of seething rage, not unlike my champagne bubbles of light, but again with none of the charm.

Yesterday, it struck me that maybe she’s got things to rage about, too. The absurdity of my rage hit me, and by extension, the absurdity of me letting the noise bother me so much. I took a deep, cleansing yoga breath and let it go, and then discovered what it means to smile inside.

And just then I felt the corners of my eyelids curve into smiles.

I didn’t know they could do that.

Such magic doesn’t happen every time I meditate. Each session is different; some are sweet dewdrops of peace, others are the box of milk that’s been in the fridge a little too long. That unpredictability is the difference between fresh blueberries and blueberry jam, the thrill of the unknowable level of sweetness versus a homogenized jar of Smuckers, delicious but guaranteed, unvarying. While the comfort of the predictable is appealing, most of the time I’d rather take a chance on the unknown.

And maybe I need to get myself a red nose.

jam

Fukuppy

I just finished one of those weeks-from-hell, the type that you don’t think you’ll be able to survive but do anyway. I woke up this morning feeling almost euphoric, having managed to weasel out of the job I was supposed to do today. Then I came across this little guy on Facebook:

Fukuppy
Nice to meet you! I’m Fukuppy.

He’s the new corporate character for a refrigerator manufacturer in Fukushima. To be fair, the pronunciation is probably meant to be Foo-coo-py because there’s no short “u” sound in Japanese, but I doubt anyone unfamiliar with Japanese pronunciation will see it that way. I’ve been grinning all day because of him.

Wednesday was thirteen hours of filming at a movie studio, which sounds way more exciting than it is, but the elephant trunks hanging from the ceiling made it less painful; I spent the day musing about why there would be elephants sleeping up there.

PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERAAnd there was a real, live circus clown in the video. He had graduated from Ringling Brothers Clown College and was a down home Alabama gentleman to boot. When was the last time you met a genuine qualified circus clown? And we had the kind of sunset that takes your breath away and leaves you dwarfed and standing in awe of nature.

PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERAThe second day of filming was only eleven hours. (Sigh.) Since our intended audience is one and two year olds, there wasn’t much English in the video, so there was a lot of waiting time. Filming is always tedious because everything has to be futzed until it’s all futzed out–camera angle, sound quality, lighting, costumes, hair and make-up, etc., etc. ad nauseum. Add to that inedible bentos, potty breaks and emotional meltdowns and time seems to wrap itself around your head and squeeze until your eyeballs pop out Roger Rabbit style.

One of the tech guys said that my job is perhaps the hardest because I work for two minutes and then wait for two hours. He may have something there. I guess if work ever gets to be too much, I can call in sick, saying, “Sorry. I woke up this morning feeling fukuppy.”

And on that note, I also give you this, which is pretty fukuppy, too.