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If you can smell what I am stepping in, the scent being compassion. The nose, so close to a brain, and so easily broken or misled.  We look down them at times, nostrils oft flare in anger, and desperation has a notorious stink.  I think I personally have chosen those people whom  others to some degree pass over or deliberately turn away from.  I smell roses even when all I see are thorns at times but I digress.  I think healthy souls smell compassion for ourselves and others, equally through both nostrils.  As concurs with my (loose) theory regarding human symmetry, the right side representing perception of/toward other beings and the left perception of/toward self.  Since approximately 2004 I have had a deviated septum which causes my air from my left nostril to travel inward only through my right, doubling the workload.  I lost my path to spiritual awareness, at times forgot me.  Forgot being. Smelled little but what equals antiseptic over rusted trolley wheels in an abandoned hospital corridor.
 Recently in my life there was a day in which my nasal passages were forced open and that day I was exposed to the pizza-in-the-oven scent of my husband, the greenest green grass and recharged batteries smell of Toby, Sebastian`s powder pufts, and Christi`s beans and cornbread and just a tuft of hay, as well as the cinnamon tickle of the TV shows ‘Cosmos’, ‘Mike Tyson Mysteries’ and ‘Preacher’. The roses I have smelled since have been an olfactory cacophony of familial love over all mixed among the scent of Mike Tyson’s pigeons and a waft of intrigue from the simple sweat of a primitive urge, Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s snow-sneeze-stardust smells, warm breath of dog fur and the linger of wet ink and ancient paper tomes, and I have found myself stopping often at the rose bushes Joe Gilgun grows on.  I watch him in Preacher and get the scent of blood, coffin dust, and hot lead mingled with the echo of Ambrosia from an angel’s wings. I watch him in the “Tiny Legs” video and get the smells of makeup, flour, and the earthly odor of determination as he stoically continues to sing in the face of everything life throws at him. I intend to watch both Emmerdale and Coronation Street, although I have never been a Soap fan, I am more than willing to open mindedly view his performance.  I began watching ‘Misfits’ in order to have more of his influence and fell in love with the brilliance of conception and character realism as well as the deviation from American formatted programming. I watch season three and smell jars of lightning bugs and cut grass blades, tattoo ink, hamster shavings, bananas, grape jelly, summer-night-hot honeysuckle, musty bins in dark corners, cat urine, french toast and rubbing alcohol.  Watch the show until season three and also meet characters named Rudy so fantastically and honestly given life through Joe Gilgun. I realized by the end of his first episode he was portraying more than what we understand as bi-polar disorder. The character in whole is viewed as a misfit for having a compass`ion, a nose of such extraordinary and incomprehensible ability that it takes three of him to personify that potential.  I have never wholly identified with a character more, and if I may be so bold, never more personally identified with an individual’s art. I have Rudys of my own, but more on that another time.  (Island of Misfit Toys)  In whole, I do not believe the power portrayed by the three Rudies (Yes, you caught me, I have no idea which is the correct tense of pluralization, so I shall be ambiguous and perhaps it will be seen as clever, but then she says something to then undermine the entire thing, classic.) to be aspects of a sick personality, I believe they are universal aspects of intellect through the filter of personal experience.  I feel his characters respectively show the three necessary pieces to a whole healthy mind. (1:Cognition or Think, 2: Emotion or Feel, and 3:Volition or Do.) I believe Joe Gilgun is expertly portraying what I have experienced, which is known in some circles as disorganized schizophrenia where all exist in one being with an extreme level of disconnect.  I am healing well.
I hope all the Rudies wind up holding hands, together, facing out to the world. Then I hope the world gives him a hug. Solidarity is my thing, y’know?
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