Pearls: Gertrude Stein


The one thing that everybody wants is to be free…not to be managed, threatened, directed, restrained, obliged, fearful, administered, they want none of these things they all want to feel free, the word discipline, and forbidden and investigated and imprisoned brings horror and fear into all hearts, they do not want to be afraid not more than is necessary in the ordinary business of living where one has to earn one’s living and has to fear want and disease and death….The only thing that any one wants now is to be free, to be let alone, to live their life as they can, but not to be watched, controlled and scared, no no, not.


  1. Unfortunately those who strive toward the unifying of opposites in themselves, understanding the alchemical symbol of Androgyny and are at least headed in the direction of enlightenment, a freer way of being, must still come in contact and interact with so many who do not understand, and furthermore, refuse to understand. It may be that each individual begins with the innate ability to blossom into a strange flower, but as one can see from your blog, not everyone actually arrives and blossoms into a strange flower. It’s a select group.

    I myself am full of tag-ends, insecurities and contradictions, I still have much unlearning and deprogramming to do, which shows how far I have to go, but at least I understand, appreciate, and honor the real deal, the true strange flowers.

    It might be funny if you started an analogous blog entitled “Rank Weeds”. I wonder what individuals you might feature there.

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  3. A rose in a cabbage patch is a weed. It is not our nature we must change, but our setting. There is a bed waiting for all of us.

  4. Mr. James Conway: I like your aphoristically put observation. You’re quite right. But I will tell you, personally, I’d rather be a rose than a weed, even if it ends up killing me. Weeds like the rabble and the mob choke and end up killing in their dumb drag-down proliferation, spreading everywhere like McDonalds and Starbucks on every corner, whereas a rose rising above offers up freely, individualistically and nobly, totally unique, with the thorns on its stem there for countermeasure and corrective, having a wondrously subtle fragrance in its blossomed head, its intelligence, mysterious layers in its folds. There’s a difference between fine wine and swill after all. But I will tell you, I have pig in me too, much swill, dirt and filth and soil. I have weeds in me. They always threaten to proliferate and suffocate all other growth. I just wish to root them out, or at the very least to control them, so that the strange flower that’s in me, which I wish fully to realize and to become, has a chance to grow. Personally I’m an internally conflicted individual. Sometimes I feel a tremendous pull toward joining the weeds, to become one of their numbers. It’s easier. There’s no conflict there. “Safety in numbers.” But the best parts of myself, the rareness of quality, belong to the Rose. I wish I had the courage to be a rose completely, always.

    Anyway, I LOVE your blog. Beautiful concept. You’re not one I’d like to quibble with. Just reach understandings with. I have a sense in our depths we already agree. This is all just surface details, really, arranging words like curtains on windows. The light still shines through regardless of what is chosen for decoration.

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