"This is the place." where Quixote meets her lover in the New, New World. In the land of bees, where the honey runs thick, but art and creativity have been lost to production, falling in line, doing what the queen bee wants, and now the hive has become flooded with sweetness.
Adelita is drawn to Quixote.
She first saw her on the battlefield of the Mexican Revolution, she brought her tamales with green chiles and mezcal. She brought her the warmth of a woman's touch, comforting her through the cold storm of battle.
Adelita and Quixote in the Beehive State, the bees can't recognize this new abstraction, and the lovers are ignored, marginalized.
They dance together dressed as beekeepers and the queen bee is too drunk on the illusion of power to notice. Her one trick of oneness - one truth, one answer, one way, has now shattered into a million pieces.
The queen adorns herself with pieces of the broken hive, convincing bees it's the most precious jewelry. Adelita and Quixote dance a corrido on the honeycomb remains - somehow immune to the sweet intoxication of the honey, which keeps the entire hive oppressed in a beehive state.
This dance of the New New World lovers flavors the honey, it will slowly ferment into mead, becoming the first act of art here, changing the hive, forever."
This is the first version of entry #1 of my first blog. I'm torn about what to name this blog. Top names at this point are: Adelita's Muse, MC Quixote, MCQ, Quixote in the Beehive. Preliminary names I'm working through in my head this morning at six AM, lying in bed, thinking about the birthing of my own blog.
Blogs seem like the avenue for written expression today, a bit raw and gritty, an ever-present need for editing, and one tends to be overindulgent with blogs. However, the instantaneous capture of expression through words (sometimes accompanied by images) might override the amount of drivel that one finds in blogs? Hmmm.
When I take a minute and think about it, the digital form actually isn't very gritty, in fact I think it's too sanitary, too safe, and definitely too easy to publish. One must weed through so much to get to a gem, that the reader becomes a sort of miner, working the digital mine that is the internet, exhausted from all the digital material that must be cast away to get to a vein of something more than just digital dirt, or even worse, digital trash, which invades your screen in the form of advertising.
It'd be cool to start a web service devoid of advertising; kind of like Sao Paolo, Brazil, where they've made laws to eliminate all billboards, it's so cool. There's not a single advertisement in that city; the images online give me hope by reaffirming the idea that we humans have infinite ways to conduct this orchestra called life.
Back to this newer form of expression, blogs; what happened to editing? We've thrown out the process of refining, distilling, and are left with millions and billions of words, sitting in this electronic trough, like rotting grapes, without the ability to capture the fermentables and turn them into wine, so what we've created is some kind of digital vinegar. This digital vinegar is so strong it can only be used for cleaning and we're slowly killing all the creative bacteria out there.
We've actually suffocated creativity through over-indulgence. Which comes from our lack of discipline and refinement. Combine this with the technology at hand and its reduced one's "fifteen minutes of fame" to maybe a fraction of a second of fame, because there's just so much information out there today.
One's attention span last no longer than microseconds, we're too busy mining through all the digital dirt and trash and this exhausts any semblance of focus, concentration, mindfulness, and we're on to the next Wiki page or YouTube video, the endless void of digital junk keeping us distracted from the external world, distracted from each other, and from ourselves.
This over-indulgence and instant gratification on both the producer of digital waste and the consumer of digital junk has another byproduct: quantity over quality. Cheap ideas, cheap art, not much substance; a shallow ocean of silly substance from billions of cat videos to the sex industry's ability to provide cheap porn.
So, Adelita's Muse it will be the anti-blog, word fermenter. At the very least I can use this digital space to journal and write fleeting thoughts, but I must keep any audience away until I've not only bottled the words and let them become refined wine, but after I've taken the words to the level of my own vineyard, with an estate of literary cash bottled and waiting patiently to be opened upon the right occasion.
So, it's this word fermenter, a sort of digital bottling / digital winecellar, not really a blog.
YOU ARE READING
MC Quixote
General FictionThis story is about a fifteen year old moving from Mexico to the United States with her deaf father. She experiences many challenges and turns to writing songs and creating music to overcome the difficulties of moving to a new culture while growing...
