2011 is here!

Wishing everyone a wonderful New Year!

Food List for Braces

From what I have heard, and read, dental braces can come with a lot of pain and discomfort. But even more annoying than the constant pain is the fact that you will NOT be able to eat some of your favorite food. However, a few simple changes in your diet can solve this problem and ensure that you consume a wholesome and enjoyable meal.
I am an ovo-lacto-pescetarian, which means I do not eat meat, but do eat fish, egg and milk. This is an advantage for me, and all other vegetarians with braces, because eating meat with wires in your mouth is nearly impossible.
What braces do is slowly and steadily push teeth into the right position. This means there is a lot of strain on the gums causing them to swell and hurt. Every time we try to bite into something hard, a lot of pressure is exerted on these already weak gums, sending surges of pain through every nerve ending of your mouth. Moreover, sticky or hard food can also get tangled in the wires and pull them out. Therefore, the best thing to do is to simply avoid hard food.
So, as I am planning to get my braces in exactly one week, here is my Shopping List.

SHOPPING LIST FOR THE DAY BEFORE BRACES

Staple Foods

• Rice (cooked till very soft like porridge and/or blended in a food processor)
• Pasta
• Soft bread

Vegetables, Fruits and Legumes

• Bananas!!
• Tofu
• Dahl
• Potatoes

Dairy Products

• Fresh milk
• Yogurt
• Fresh Milk
• Curd

Snacks

• Soft cakes
• Soft biscuits (drench a biscuit in tea or milk to make it softer- delicious!)

Desserts and Drinks

• Ice cream and Popsicles (eating cold food can help with the swelling but remember to brush after eating too much sugar as teeth are more prone to decay when braces are on) 
• Pudding
• Moss Jelly
• Sago
• Fruit Juice
• Tea/coffee/cocoa

X Rays for Braces: CHECK!

Three Types of Dental X-rays

Today I also completed the X rays that are required for all the pre-braces procedures. My doctor prescribed three x rays in a medical-encrypted form. This is what I was able to figure out from Wikipedia.org :

Lateral Cephalogram- This is an x-ray of the whole head from a sideways view. This one shows how big-headed you really are! And all the hollow space within the skull is also, shamelessly, revealed. This is another special x-ray available only at two locations in our island.

OPG (Orthopantomogram)- This is an x-ray that provides a two dimensional panoramic view of both jaws. I was asked to stand straight with my mouth slightly open while the x-ray machine rotated around my head. This is a special dental x-ray and is ,apparently, only available at locations in Sri Lanka.


IOPA (Intra Oral Periaical) x-ray- This is just the fancy name of the type of dental x-ray most people are familiar with. I had two of this type taken- one of my upper central incisors and one of my lower central incisors, i.e. my bunny teeth!

Tips:

• Taking an x-ray is a super simple, super safe procedure. Don't sweat it.
• If you're going for OPG or Lateral Cephalogram you will be required to remove anything metallic from your head region. This includes earrings, hair clips and pins etc. So it would be wise to leave valuables at home.

Separators Are On

A few hours ago, I had dental separators inserted around my back teeth.
Separators are tiny blue colored rubber bands that fit in beside the molars. They push them apart and create space so that, when the braces go on in weeks time, the bands can be fitted in without trouble.
It feels somewhat uncomfortable and my gums are sore. Eating (and sneezing!) is difficult because I tend to bite on the rubbers, forcing them deeper into my gums. However, there is no major pain or discomfort.
My next dental appointment is in a week.

A Thousand Acres

King Lear Retold in the Pulitzer Winning Fiction A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley

There is the silhouette of  two people- a man in a cowboy hat is leaning against a red truck, and a woman, standing beside him, is merely touching his hands with hers. A neat barn with a white roof stands witness to their exchange, and above them the clouds are washed in the colors of a summer evening of this Iowan landscape that stretches beyond the horizon.
When my eyes first absorbed the cover illustration, an oil painting by Michael Bennallack-Hart, I imagined a story of love and peace, of reaping golden harvests and enjoying hearty dinners around family tables, of heroes and heroines in the tranquility of rural life.
However, Jane Smiley's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, A Thousand Acres (1991), dwells deeper, unraveling the cruelest of human experiences in her modern version of Shakespeare's King Lear.
Larry Cook is one of the most respected farmers of Zebulon County, Iowa. His thousand acres of fertile land reflect the peril of generations of proud farmers. When Larry decides to retire and hand over the work to his three daughters in a joint ownership, his family, as well as the whole neighborhood, is taken by surprise. His two eldest daughters, Virginia and Rose, who have spent their whole lives on the farm, are enthusiastic about the idea. Together with their husbands, they dream of expanding the business to a hog operation of hundreds of animals, a modern farm equipped with the latest technology of the 1970's. The youngest daughter, Caroline, a successful lawyer living in Des Moines, is apprehensive. Her father misunderstands her rejection and cuts her out- "he took the door in his hand and slammed it shut in her face".
The names of the characters themselves are evidence of Shakespearean influence- Larry Cook is King Lear; Virginia, known as Ginny, is Goneril; Rose is Regan and Caroline is Cordelia. Harold Clark is not only their neighbor but also Larry's oldest friend and keenest competitor. He and his sons, Loren and Jess, serve the role of the Earl of Gloucester and his sons. Jess, who later becomes entangled in romance with both the elder sisters, leading to a breach of the strongest trust and love portrayed by the Cook family, is 'illegitimate' because he escaped to Canada to evade the Vietnam Draft.
However, the most striking resemblance to King Lear is the plot. In spite of some differences, the flow of the story is mostly identical. Memorable scenes that are reproduced include Larry stubbornly walking out into a storm after cursing his daughters, Rose's husband, Pete blinding Harold Clark by planning an accident with anhydrous ammonia and Caroline's last attempt to defeat her sisters by declaring a war, a lawsuit for 'mismanagement and abuse of property'.
Unlike Shakespeare's tale, A Thousand Acres, told from the point of view of the oldest daughter, Virginia, evokes a sympathy towards the eldest daughters and seemingly justifies their actions. Their mother dies when they are teenagers and they nurture Caroline, a child of six, to the best of their abilities. Their father is unsympathetic, cruel and dictatorial, beating them harshly for the slightest error. They try hard to save their little sister from the wrath of their father. With the passage of time they both, under different circumstances, grow up to become farm wives. Virginia is plagued by miscarriage after miscarriage and Rose is battling breast cancer and a marriage of broken dreams. But thanks to their efforts, Caroline, who dreamed of becoming a farmer instead of a farm wife, becomes a lawyer and settles in Des Moines. But in the wake of this battle for a thousand acres of greed and love, the dark past of the children reveal themselves as old scars are remembered.
A Thousand Acres is a story of dark pasts and unfulfilled dreams that has the rare ability to haunt its readers, inducing a strange sense of sympathy and longing for the characters Shakespeare once proclaimed to be unconditionally evil.

About following the Creative Zest

Here is an interesting article I came across....

Creative Butterfly

Sticking to one art form . . . or not.

By Deborah Atherton

Although some of us wake up one morning at age six with full knowledge of who we are going to be and what we are going to do, many of us have creative interests that vary widely from year to year. This is a tendency that many, artists and non-artists alike, look at with some suspicion — “last year you did pottery, the year before you were into film, and now you want to start print making? Can’t you pick one thing?”
Well, no, maybe you can’t. In theory, picking one thing would set us up to become tremendously expert at that one thing — which is certainly what our well-intentioned inquisitors would like to see from us. Isn’t it better to be the best print maker in the world than a kind of print maker/potter/documentary film maker with no clear direction? Maybe — or maybe doing the pottery piqued your interest in looking at things a certain way, which brought you to film making, and later to print making. I know skills are hard to acquire, and it can take a lifetime to become a great painter or poet — but many of us just aren’t designed to only paint, or only write poetry. (In fact, I’ve noticed, for instance, that there seem to be many, many writers of various kinds who are also into painting or graphic design — and most of them garner a lot of criticism for not sticking to one thing.)
But how do we know when to stick to one art form and when to move on to the next? How do we know we aren’t just being dilettantes who can’t settle?
The key is whether or not we are able to finish the work before we move on to the next thing. If we have a basement full of pots that never made it to the kiln, or a desk piled high with unfinished screenplays, we may not be answering the inner call of a new means of expression — we might be just dodging our frustration with the work we are doing now. We owe it to ourselves to make our best effort to finish the work in front of us before we abandon it for the ever-so-alluring new form.
Of course, you can’t always finish. Sometimes you genuinely realize half-way through that this thing you thought would be so beautiful is really not good, or not good enough. Or maybe you just aren’t ready for it, whatever it is — maybe your craft hasn’t caught up to your ideas yet. And in that case you do have to put it aside, at least for the time being, until you catch up with yourself. That may not be the worst moment in the world to try something else for a while.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a creative butterfly if you can stay honest with yourself about the process, and know that how ever many different forms you try, it’s still yourself you have to come back to in the end. •
© 2010 Deborah Atherton. All rights reserved.

Writing for Inspiration

I have taken on a quest to write something everyday for at least 20 minutes. Now that sounds challenging doesn't it?
I came across a list of inspirational words at http://www.creativity-portal.com/
Let's see how many I can conquer before the year is done.

Ability | Age | Animal | Autumn | Average Bandwagon | Beauty | Body | Book | Cage | Camping | Cartoon | Chain | Chance |Clover | Coincidence | Color | Creative | Develop | Destiny | Desire | Environment | Esteem | Experience | Fade | Flower | Food | Forest | Friend | Generous | Group | Grow | Honesty | Help | Honor | Idea | Image | Incentive | Innovative | Internet | Joy | Kindness | Kindred Spirit | Ladybug | Learn | Light | Love | Mature | Memory | Metal | Modest | Mood | Mountains | Museum | Music | Myself | Mystery | New | Novel | Night Dreams | Ocean | Opera | Peace | Picture | Privacy | Quest | Quiet | Rainbow | Remember | Realize | Shape | Snowflake | SunTime | Truth | Waterfall | Wellness | Youth

Impressions- Check

So on Saturday I had my dental impressions taken. It didn't even take five minutes. An absolutely painless, fuss-less procedure. It did feel like my mouth had been stuffed with cold toothpaste.
I am going for my x-rays next week. And if all goes well, I will have my braces in time for new year! That means 2012 will be my year of braces. Does that count as a new year's resolution?

Saying NO! to Violence Against Children

Proving the power of social networks once again, Facebook users the world over have stepped forward this weekend to protest violence against children in a very simple way: by posting a picture of a cartoon from their childhood.

I chose a picture from Disney's Pocahontas.

Change your facebook profile to a cartoon from your CHILDHOOD and INVITE your friends to do the same. Until Monday Dec.6th there should be no human faces on Facebook, but an invasion of memories! This is for a

------------ CAMPAIGN AGAINST VIOLENCE ON CHILDREN!!--------     Pass it on

These pictures will act as a silent reminder of the fantasies, wishes and dreams we shared as children. These memories will bring with them the vulnerable innocence of childhood. Thus, reminding us that every time an act of physical, verbal or psychological violence is directed at a child, their innocent dreams are crushed and souls are broken beyond repair.


I hope you take this opportunity to show you care. Spread the word!

The Beauty of Erotica

The Naked Maja (c. 1800-1803) by Francisco de Goya

To draw the line between erotica and pornography, between passion and merchandise, is like splitting whisky from ice. What truly sets all forms of erotica, ranging from literature to art to motion pictures, apart from the cheaply downloadable, commercial pornography, is the intent of the producer.

The creator of erotica is an artist. His or her motive is to express and illuminate the intricacy of the emotions of our sexual experiences, experiments and fantasies. The producer will choose between what is to be presented and not so as to create space for the imagination of the audience. He or she will draw us into her world and allow us to roam freely, our minds touching the surreal.

Pornography, on the other hand, is a record of a sexually explicit scenario in ostentatiously graphic detail, whose only purpose is to elicit a sexual desire in the audience. The audience is merely that, an audience, dumb spectators.

If you are daring to take a step into a lovelier, darker and deeper experience of art then visit the Misty Mountains. Enjoy!

Impress Me!

I have decided and braces it will be!!!
Today I found an orthodontist who promised to do the same job for half the price. His clinic is also easily accessible from a geographic point of view. He was very friendly and did not seem to be all mercenary.
He promised to do his best to complete my treatment in a year because I might have to travel for my higher studies. Extractions, however, seem to be inevitable. But he did promise me that the gaps will close because my teeth are anyway too big for my jaws.

I am going on Saturday for impressions. Yes, they will try and impress me. The procedure sounds simple enough-

• A viscous liquid will be placed in my mouth and within minutes it will set to form a rubbery solid imprint of my teeth. This will be used to make a cast, a model of my jaws and teeth. 

And that goes in the living room cabinet!

Wires, Screws and Power Chains- Say CHEESE!

wikipedia.org

"Look at the wall, keep your head straight and smile", says my orthodontist as he tries to measure my teeth with a metal ruler and I try not to LOL. Well, for those of you who are not familiar with this rather obscure profession, he is a dentist who has been specially trained to straighten and correct, hence the prefix ortho-, teeth. Wires, screws, power chains and cement are his tools of trade. He will twist your smile, pulling you teeth this way and that, for a period no less than a year or two. All with good intentions- he has been trained to turn werewolves and vampires, bunnies and bull dogs into beautiful Cinderellas and Prince Charmings.

I think I fall under the bunny category- my front teeth, my incisors, are prominent. I also have some major misalignments.

I must say this doc was a pleasing gentleman. Or was he just a good marketeer? He asked me what changes I want and how these little wires might possibly entangle with my life. I told him I like my bunny teeth and he gave me an astonished look. Either he found my idea very queer or he just did not know what bunny teeth are. I am sure his orthodontics textbooks contain nothing about bunny teeth.

Well, tonight I'm trying to make a big decision. Should I make this sacrifice for vanity?

Bathing in Liquid Sunshine...

by Victor Eredel

When the monsoons arrive, heralding rains from across the oceans, our little city, Colombo, a speck of dust in Nature's eyes, surrenders. People look to the skies, suspecting, knowing what is to come. Raising their trousers and sarees by an inch or two, they demand protection from their, nylon canopies of black, holding them rigidly against the gusts of wind, they scatter about in the streets, jumping over a ditch here and hopping over a puddle there. They walk briskly, water dripping from their backs. Even the mightiest trees are brought to submission, bowing to the will of the winds. Flashes of white light dissect the skies.

In homes, children are overjoyed at the prospect of water falling, just falling from the skies. Falling on tin roofs and pouring from the gutters out on to the roads. They poke their fingers into the gurgling streams and open their mouths to catch a drop before a mother comes to drag them back inside, to the warmth of a mug of milk tea.

Not far way the ocean sleeps, swelling and churning, in the falling rain.

If You Were Coming In The Fall...

by Ben Harrison

Poem #529

If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's land.

If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.


This is one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson. It is a simple love poem that envelops a deep meaning.

Is it about an unrequited love? Or about two lovers who have been separated?

Dickinson speaks with such optimism throughout the first four stanzas, that it warms the heart of the reader. She uses absurd metaphors to describe the insignificance of time. We are enlightened by her undying resolve. The rhythm of the poem itself is one of positivity. It seems as if Dickinson carries us with her into a dream world, where the fourth dimension is negligible.
However, the bitterness of reality dawns upon her in the last stanza. She describes how "all ignorant of the length of time's uncertain wing" a lover is left, hanging in a vacuum of loneliness.

A Twisted Enigma... A Pale View of Hills...

Kazuo Ishiguro's first novel, A Pale View of Hills (1982) is told by Etsuko, a woman who has left behind the remains of the destructed city of Hiroshima and settled in the quiet English countryside. She brought with her fragmented memories of Japan, of mosquito infested ditches left behind by bombs, of people adjusting to the ways of the enemy, of a nation gazing towards the horizon. She is haunted by the recent suicide of her older daughter, Keiko. The story unfolds when her younger daughter, Niki comes to visit her mother and, in spite of her absence at her half sister's funeral, makes an attempt to be 'there for her' through her recent tragedy. Etsuko finds herself reminiscing a friend she knew during the summer she was pregnant with her first child.
This friend, Sachiko appears as a strong and independent widow who has been reduced to poverty in the aftermath of the war. She is plagued by her ambivalence, sometimes determined that her lover Frank will take to America, sometimes, disappointed by his failing promises, deciding that she does not need him anyway. Sachiko's young daughter, Mariko is caught in her mother's irresponsible tangle of life. She grows up on her own, running along the river banks and ditches of the fallen city. She leads a strange life of solitude, distancing herself from others. She carries the reader with her, into a silent world of her own.
Etsuko attempts to build a friendship with this strange child, but Sachiko says she should ignore her daughter's eccentricity as it is only the way of children. Sachiko is inconsiderate of her child's emotions but claims to think of the girl's future, insisting that she will have a better life in America and that she can become a 'business girl' one day.
Reflecting on her own life, Etsuko attempts to understand the perplexity of her own daughter's suicide. I found it difficult to determine her feelings towards her older daughter. Through the fragments of her story, we understand that her daughter had spent her initial years in Japan, and that Etsuko had left her first husband, Keiko's father, and come with her daughter to England. It seemed to me that Etsuko had long since accepted her daughter's life of solitude could never have a happy ending. Discussing Keiko's life with her younger daughter Niki, Etsuko says, "But you see, Niki, I knew all along. I knew all along she wouldn't be happy over here."
Apart from the haunting characters, the enigma of this story lies in the parallels between Etsuko's and Sachiko's stories. Their daughters, strange girls of solitude, seem to depict the beginning and the end of the same life story.
A Pale View of Hills also serves as a shred of history, depicting the physical and ideological reconstruction of Japan following the Second World War. Etsuko's relationship with her hardworking yet emotionally-absent first husband Jiro and affectionate father-in-law Ogata reflect the changing views of people. On her trip to the city of Hiroshima, Etsuko, for the first time in her life, with much astonishment, sees couples holding hands in public.
A Pale View of Hills, like Kazuo Ishiguro's other novels The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go, is a story that will tarry within the realms of your mind, attempting to define the line between destiny and volition.

Can't Get My Eyes Off You...

Often time I find myself simply unable to get my eyes off you. I don't care for food, I don't care for sleep- all I want to do is read another page, another chapter. I want to know how you will end, yet I don't want you to end.

I read every page with such consciousness, overcome with empathy- never have I been a better listener.

Running, running with you, gnawing at drying bone. You whisper in my ear and bring me to climax.

Literature noun /ˈlɪt.ər.ɪ.tʃər/: pain and suffering recorded in written media, especially with a high and lasting artistic value.

Sometimes I wonder if it is the masochist within me who is so eagerly absorbing the brutality unleashed before my eyes. For few are the stories that end in happiness, with heroes, or heroine for that matter, triumphs and the villains are punished or may be even humanely forgiven. No, those are but fairy tales.

What about Real stories?

• Real stories end in violence/ murder/ suicide.
• Real stories end with dreams lost/ wings broken.
• Real stories make you whither from within/temporarily perplexed ie paralyzed/ make your skin scaly
  
• etc. etc. etc.
  

Because that is the way it is, Reality.

The End

And when I do reach that final page, I stop, take a deep breath and allow you to enter my reverie. Honestly, I think about you all the time. Well, at least until I find someone else. And may be, just may be, if you were really any good I might remember you for the rest of my life.

Want to know what sorta writing makes me dizzy and giddy? Stay tuned for my personal book reviews. Nothing fancy- just a rambling about what I do and do not like about books and their authors.