[Exodus by Kim Herbst]

The Times defines an addiction as compulsive, self-destructive behavior. I don’t know too many people who have/would admit to having an addiction. The word is generally reserved for stigmatized things like drugs or gambling, while other equally destructive yet “normal” things are called habits or guilty pleasures.  Apparently some of us are more prone to addiction than others. A few qualities of the addictive personality:

• Impulsive behavior, difficulty in delaying gratification, an antisocial personality and a disposition toward sensation seeking.
• A high value on nonconformity combined with a weak commitment to the goals for achievement valued by the society.
• A sense of social alienation and a general tolerance for deviance.
• A sense of heightened stress. This may help explain why adolescence and other stressful transition periods are often associated with the most severe drug and alcohol problems.

So what makes something an addiction versus an unhealthy habit or hobby? More than the drug of choice– whether that be alcohol, sex, exercise, television, or donuts– is the question of how and why you do it. It usually starts out innocently enough. Say you really really like donuts cos they taste so damn good, plus they help you through a rough patch in your life (donuts have many powers).  But then it starts to snowball. Your compulsive love for donuts creeps into your relationships, your interests, and your goals. Like you don’t really want to kick it with friends and fam anymore cos you’d rather be eating donuts. The donuts are giving you high cholesterol and perpetually sticky fingers but you don’t give a damn cos you just really really want donuts. You lose your chance at that job you really wanted cos you were so distracted by donuts, and to ease the burn you eat more donuts.

It’s sorta a ridiculous analogy, but it’s the only way I know how to put it without getting too um.. real. So an addiction becomes an addiction when it becomes a causer of severe, negative life imbalance. It starts to take away from the things in your life that once made you happy, then ends up aggravating itself by a growing feeling of powerlessness and discontent. I’m probably working too hard to avoid being specific that this doesn’t make much sense at all, but hopefully you get my drift. In the end it’s not really up to anyone else to let you know that you have problems. Who the hell doesn’t?? It’s more about admitting it if something that was once good has become destructive– and figuring out how to dig yourself out of that hole.

I read this passage last year and it’s never felt more appropriate.

AN ADDICTION (A REPETITIOUS ACT) IS A RITUAL TO HELP ONE THROUGH A TRYING TIME; ITS REPETITION SAFEGUARDS THE PASSAGE, IT BECOMES ONE’S TALISMAN, ONE’S TOUCHSTONE. IF IT STICKS AROUND AFTER HAVING OUTLIVED ITS USEFULNESS, WE BECOME “STUCK” IN IT AND IT TAKES POSSESSION OF US. [gloria anzaldua]

Amazing illustrations by Igor Oleinikov for the children’s mag Tramvai.  Feast your eyes on the awesomeness.

Via English Russia.

What with the prospect of the instabilty/freedom of unemployment and a whole bunch of other things preventing me from sleeping (goddamn insomnia), much less finishing anything, I’ve been trying to figure out how to navigate that netherworld between what I should be doing and what I want to be doing.  Like lots of other folks with roots in Asia, I’ve inherited a strict set of Confucian values. It’s a gift from my family that’s humbled, guided, and kept me in check for 23 years now. I found this quote on some Google book that sums up the life philosophy thus far.

When humans internalize the rites, selfishness is overcome and benevolence takes its place. The personal self becomes orderly, and humans regulate themselves appropriately in society. They act on what is appropriate to themselves and to their position in society. They attain the mean that gives harmony.

For better or worse, I’m never sure how to explain this to other people for fear of them assuming that I’m repressed or don’t know how to think for myself. Even to my own ears, any talk of order and harmony sounds outdated. Western culture teaches us to advance ourselves as individuals, which not only explains the good and the bad that comes out of it but sounds way sexier. The destruction of the self and other lives becomes a necessary side effect for achieving greatness.

I’m trying to figure out exactly how to make peace with the life lessons I was raised with and do right by other people while still being honest with myself. You’re only as free as you’re willing to be, and for a long time my fear of appearing selfish, disruptive, or ungrateful has prevented me from growing or doing too much. So I’m on a new chapter (with some words of wisdom from the ultimate boss Bruce Lee).

All fixed set patterns are incapable of adaptability or pliability. The truth is outside of all fixed patterns.

PS. Not trying to knock on Confucius or family values or anything like that. It’s just something I’m trying to understand for myself.

Yoko Furusho’s artwork is the sum of several quiet contradictions. It’s intimate enough to be satisfyingly voyeuristic, surreal enough to be creepishly detached, and girly enough for the big boys to feel at ease. She presented her work a few weeks ago at Alien/ation, a group show organized by Hyphen Magazine and Paper Hat Productions.

I pride myself on having awesome friends, and I have this particularly heroic friend named Shannon. I think the photo speaks for itself. 100% goodness, snapped and edited by myself (sorry, I needed to brag).

Shannon is an artiste slash model currently residing in Brooklyn, New York. She’s modeled for Caliber 59 and Maximilian Fur Salon.  In addition to being really really ridiculously good-looking, she’s got a fierce body of work. She also rescues puppies in her off time. Check out her blog for more.