Some readings

Book
Article
Event
For a topic that seemed quite depressing, the reading gave me a feeling of serenity. I think sometimes it can be useful to attend these events, as it can be useful to smudge rooms.

Gardening staves off gloom

It is something I went away from for a while. I went back to it today after experiencing perhaps reasonable (or perhaps unreasonable) stress because of some impending car repair costs. The plot was built over a sidewalk and the remnants of a community that used to commute to a torpedo factory. (When my friend said that to the students this summer, one of them looked at me and laughed. "Did you hear that? Only she would say something like that. A 'shanty town!' Like something out of a John Steinbeck novel!") Sometimes a line spoken by Leonard Bast from Howard's End comes to mind: "That's for rich people to make them feel good after their dinner." But it is oh, so defeated-sounding! And, if only the definition of "rich" were more expanded in some people's minds? Anyway. Some nice extras to going back included: being told that I have to come again next week to sample a pumpkin pie, feeling the wind blow and liking it, admiring sunlit rainbow chard ("it looks so happy! If a plant can look happy" the same student said), watching people run around the plot and feeling the impulse to increase athletic activity in my life, and receiving some free extra basil and tomatos. The garden will be put to bed and winterized soon!

Nature...

I was reflecting that no single person has ever been able to transform me the way a few quiet moments alone in nature could. Then I decided to look up Oh Give Me A Home Where The Buffalo Roam... However, one time I did have a very lucid experience on the dance floor at China Harbor in Seattle. It was not necessarily because of my dance partner (although he was a good dancer), it was the energy of the crowd. Suddenly, in the middle of a song, everywhere I looked, all the guys (Latin American immigrants) that had taught me and the other girls I knew how to salsa were beaming in such a pure and happy way that shocked and surprised me. Ecstatic, collective, & friendly. A state of high energy. Like time had stopped. Maybe whirling dervishes experience things like that.

Quirky messages

Today I got one from my sister: Hey Al, I just saw a commercial for Peru on the fine living network. It was very elegant but parts were sort of funny where they showed people partying around machu pichu with catered foods that look like cupcakes and things, and people dancing with scissors. Isn't dancing with scissors illegal? Hehe. But here's the website they showed: http://www.peru.info/ Peru, not just for college students in anthropology and latin studies anymore (or meteorologist students studying el nino). So I clicked on that link. And whats the first thing I see? Not just the famous ancient city, but--Madre De Dios and Tambopata and Puerto Maldonado. Where I was! (Not the other, seemingly better known rainforest which is by Iquitos.) I just remembered that when I was college, she made a card for me with a girl writing on the blackboard "I will stop talking about Peru in class."

Hallo, K. A.!

I feel like I am rediscovering an artist...I'm thinking about sending some links about Keren Ann to some people, like maybe to friends who went with me on a trip where we visited Melville's house, and Salem, and we stayed at a bed and breakfast across the street from Emily Dickinson's house, and one of them drew a pentacle in the sand on the beach at Walden Pond. Brrr, it was co-o-o-old. I was thinking about the Nolita CD, because I a little bit missed my sojourn in upstate NY, especially the last part of it in a particularly hot upstairs apartment (oh NY, you are so extreme in temperatures) where I listened to songs such as Chelsea Burns, Greatest You Can Find, One Day Without, Nolita and For You And I.
Burn the Witch is intriguing.
I just watched a song called "Not Going Anywhere." Video. Performance.
I watched Where No Endings End after this Ailleurs video (which especially charmed me at the beginning of it.) Okay, linky, linky, linky, that's enough...I was really in the mood to drink tea at the beginning of this post, but now I just want to drink a very tall glass of water and go to sleep.

Fun pieces of info, if it works!

The Monster at the End of this Book. Read it as a kid!
Martina the Beautiful Cockroach. Read it as an adult!
From going to a fair this weekend:
Interfaith Conference
Journal of Heart Centered Therapies
Stepping Stones
Hygieia, Hygeia
ShadowGrove
Open Hearth
Faerie Festival

Yay, me and technology!

Spilled soymilk on laptop - really not good. It barely seems to allow me to type things without doing this weird highlighting erasing thing half the time. Except now I think it is working okay if I use the external mouse. Someday...everything will be...splendid.

Nice song or maybe supplication

Well, that actually worked really well! Saved.

Something to play while on a quest

I have lost my keys. I think there is nothing more frustrating than looking and looking and looking and not being able to find those keys. I think that My Sweet Lord is probably the kind of song I need to hear quietly running through my head as I'm looking for them. Keys, please find me.

Potpourri....

Chicken Little, Weeds, Video Games, Oil, West Nile. I have to dialogue with myself about whether the Spider video I watched here is wholesome, healthy humor...

What would you do....dodododododododododo...

Maybe as a result of more stuff-sifting, I was also looking for Magnificat. Not the one by Bach, but the one by Nicola Porpora. Singing it in choir helped me complete my undergraduate studies in four years despite transferring from the East Coast to West Coast in the middle of everything. But, instead of sacred music, I found myself viewing a video of Squirrel College! I mean, that place where I was first introduced to the fine study of literature. (Several girls in it make me think of people I knew.) I also could imagine that the announcer of "One of the fundamental quirks of the quad..." was someone I had met there. (Literally!) I also watched this from the third institution of higher learning I attended. So, sacred music I was introduced to on my last road trip, what say you? "C'mon." Shove, shove. "It's funny!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
English Assignment...Video Project...

Balulalow

I loved Balulalow when I was thirteen and I heard it sung in the more advanced section of the Northwest Girls' Choir.

Something I saw today

I saw some women playing some musical instruments like this one.

What an organ sometimes is!

On the way home, I was surprised by how my feet & legs hurt. (Reinforcing the fact that I need to apply to more jobs.) But I listened to a CD of music from this stalacpipe organ. On my road trip, I noticed that it can actually be good to listen to while driving because it's all relaxing, yet the slightly jarring sound of water droplets keeps you alert. (I feel like writing something…what...dear old squirrelly one who once resembled some kind of morose Eyeore in the produce section…art thou feeling better about thyself…less disappointed by the one who displays a failure to appreciate thy great gifts…such as that thou art the rescuer of the precious embodiment of sweetness and light from the wicked cat molesters… instead, drawing attention to thy little failings in a disturbing way... suggesting thou might be like some old white kitten reborn...hmmm... organs put me in a weird mood...like, I should be listening to some old Shaker or Moravian music now...except, did Shakers even use organs…)

Driving is, like, the best therapy...

After I spend a period of time on a road trip, sometimes I don't feel content to be in one place. Such was the case today. I had a whole day to do "necessary and useful things" but I could not stay in one place. I had to drive! And see some forest. I listened to more linguistics lectures and a CD that someone made for me years ago. It had the alternate version of "Talula" on it. I just watched this Fool on the hill/Horses clip. It's a good thing I drove around today. It was actually a question of sanity. Now I feel more cozy and content about sifting through, and donating, old things. And, for some reason, I am feeling rather interested in quilts. Who knows though, maybe it wasn't just the driving around, but also a shift in eating patterns. They've improved recently. Today, I actually felt thrilled by the discovery that this dip thing I made did not change from a pale green hue, even after sitting in the fridge overnight. It was a blender concoction with dill and celery and avocado and garlic cloves and almond milk. It wasn't bad, but it might have improved, taste-wise, with some cilantro and maybe a little onion. I brought the blender with me on my trip, but I got temporarily blind sided at my grandmother's. The race was on! Those healthy eating habits were beat out by the presence of desserts, cheeses, and cured meats.

Spinning!

Mit Glas.
(Also known as "a brittle transparent solid with irregular atomic structure.")

All about H

"h is easily threatened because he is concerned he will lose his status. It is very important to him that he be chosen first all the time, and has been since he was a puppy with his littermates. h lived with a big dog (H) and was impressed by how tall he was and how when he looked up he could see his belly. h likes to have is belly rubbed because it makes him feel taller because he associates it with how tall H is. He likes to be high up and look out windows because it makes him feel more important and he believes it makes him taller. h also believes he has exceptionally beautiful paws. D really likes the fenced in backyard. He thinks h is ok but not a normal dog. He thinks larger dogs, like H, are normal dogs. D feels h is sometimes placed before him and he doesn't like that." (Results from a pet psychic!)

creative writingsssssssssssssssssss

In storytelling, a narrator might think, you know, if one squirrel finds it necessary to follow another squirrel around as part of a creative process, wouldn't it make sense if it didn't actually happen unless both Squirrel A & Squirrel B had their sh*t together, on all levels, so, why not break that down to four: physical, mental, emotional, & spiritual. Career-wise and wise-use-of-self-expression-wise and health-wise (p, m & e. And s?) would lend itself to that. But then, that's not how LIFE is (supposedly.) Or actually, it is sometimes how LIFE is, for some people, but on the whole, or in part, society is addicted to its chaos-driven tales, so chaos still reigns supreme, for some.

Useful information

It was very cool to drive up north and see almost nothing around me but dark green trees and lavender clouds in the sky at dusk. And the sign for the 45th parallel (halfway to the Northpole.) And a sign for Elk-Crossing. ("I think they're just on someone's farm," someone explained to me later.) I saw opening ceremonies (different from the clip I just watched) on a little farm that seemed out in the middle of nowhere. It was interesting to experience a series of simultaneously fun and stressful days and a lot of stress-y seeming dreams (at night or in the morning or during naps) and drive and drive and drive everywhere and finally come "home" to the hovel-with-potential that I currently reside in, and feel just a smidgen of the impulse that a lot of my neat-freakish relatives must feel, like, all the time. So, now, all I'm doing is freeing myself of possessions (that looks like too many s's) and then, the next phase of life. Dun dun dun. It will have to involve lifestyle changes. (Good ones.) Today I listened to Allegheny Front (while probably doing absolutely nothing to improve the air quality!) on the PA Turnpike. They also talked about canning, which I saw a bit of as a child, and which was briefly discussed at one get-together I attended.

No internet for over a week! Ha, what a luxury.

Random thoughts on books and such

None of this interferes with my appreciation of this book! But, I do kind of like those books that have stories with animals in them. Sometimes, I could want to write one about a squirrel who follows another squirrel around in grocery stores, finishes up a creation, and then gets accolades for it. But then, I think: I'd rather just post links about the works of Natalie Babbitt. When I found out The Eyes of the Amaryllis (and once again, the image on the paperback I possessed in 6th grade is no where to be found on the web) had been made into a movie (and to think, I never knew, all these years!) I felt sort of like I'd been socked in the stomach, but in a good way. Herbert Rowbarge leads me to think back on this carousel. Also, I wanted to post a link to the movie Housekeeping, because I was reading some reviews of the book, which I have never read, and because I remember my little 15-or-16-year-old-flannel-shirt-wearing-self watching some of it on cable and thinking that there should be more films like that. "Haunting Pacific Northwest scenery!" I'm going to take a trip to the Midwest. I believe that I could watch this one with family members. (If it's ever available...)

A fruit to try (or smell?)

"One day...there was a durian on the altar...I was trying to recite the Lotus Sutra, using a wooden drum and a large bowl-shaped bell for accompaniment, but I could not concentrate at all. I finally carried the bell to the altar and turned it upside down to imprison the durian, so I could chant the sutra. After I finished, I bowed to the Buddha and liberated the durian." Page 4 Teachings On Love by Thich Naht Hanh. Well, after reading that, naturally I felt very curious when I saw this fruit at the store. I bent forward to smell it...it was not unpleasant nor particularly strong-seeming to me. But maybe it is a different story when it is cut open? Durians at the Durian.

A good meow story

Or maybe it's better to say, a good yowl story. I note that it mainly focuses on the positive (the heroic cat!) while not ignoring the negative (about the insurance). From Independence, Kansas, which I visited a while back. Oh, I miss those road-tripping days. :-)

Vegetables!

Eat them. Drink them. Today I went to a new Asian supermarket that's very close to me and was completely bowled over by all the choices. Four kinds of bok choy. Several kinds of some other "choy" vegetable on either side of those. GEODUCKS. No, those are not a vegetable, I just couldn't believe that they had them. It was kind of a magical experience...at the end of it, the check-out lady gave me a large, attractive plastic tray for free. Is this clutter? I asked myself. No, it is a gift. I took it home and covered it with a towel. Now it is where I put the blender to dry out after I've washed it. I would like to try this concoction of peaches and greens and rosemary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Also, nothing to do with vegetables, but I found an Ekova video: Siip Siie
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later--The question below looks different to me after I have been looking at some financial things. But, I know that I will eventually return to a more peaceful state of mind. In a harmonious environment! Bok Choy picture

Risk

Does risk-taking contribute to health or longevity? My friend's husband is reading Healthy At 100. It looks interesting. Is offering an opinion risk-taking? An opinion, like this: if a person is going to follow another human to help himself create something, then he might as well try to learn something beneficial from that and then use his work to create a healthier world, forgoing self-aggrandizement and the promotion of apocalyptic themes. That reminds me of the following situation: a little girl being traumatized by a show on T.V. and the grown-ups don't care because they are just too sucked into being entertained. Question: Why are so many people more driven to go for material wealth and reaping external accolades instead of creating a more harmonious environment on the planet?

Wo ist....

Where is my copy of A Tree Grows In Brooklyn? (A book I really like.) I was going to quote a scene about Francie's mother being on her knees and scrubbing the floor while she was pregnant, telling Francie that she doesn't get along with women, tears coming to her eyes when she remembers her best girlfriend from adolescence, telling Francie that she needs her now even though before she always favored Francie's brother, her sisters coming, and then Francie being sent off to an errand but not escaping before she hears her mother scream. Then a subsequent passage that made me want to throw the book out. Well, I could get it from a library, anyways! I still like it. But, I can't find it. Maybe it's already gone...

Sorting

Example: Lower priority, but amusing: While clearing out my e-mail box, I found a political debate that included songs in the e-mails and I thought that it was pretty funny. Higher priority: I have the good or dubious fortune to inhabit a physical vehicle which seems to send me strong signals, based on things like eating habits or reactions to situations or things I've been reading or watching. At this moment, it is directing me to read: a) Healing Yourself with Light, b) The The 7 Healing Chakras c) nothing.

It's a curious world

full of curious people and curious human behavior! Today I listened to Lecture 25 & 26 by this guy. Why can't I read 13 languages. I'm going to listen to more; I hope it will help me sort through all of my old belongings in a more cheerful manner, and that soon I will have reduced the amount of things that own me by at least half if not more than that. I will commit to a number of days. I am sharing this place with a recovering packrat. Maybe I will have a neat freak for the next roommate. No, someone with healthy organized tendencies. This book has wisdom in it. Wouldn't it be nice if it were easy to emulate a book every time you thought it had wisdom in it.

A Sunday...

Backwards and slightly scrambled:
Celestial Soda Pop and "Practicing Emptiness" from soundprint.org on the radio. Nights in White Satin. Nori. Gjestost. Softshell crab. Frozen flies in the freezer. "Goodnight Saigon" from a transistor radio on a chair. Bird watching. A warm chlorinated aqua bath. Remembering the basement of beer and the awful movie "Sliver." Lemonade. Working mothers. "Baby person." Photo ops of gifts and summer dresses. Feeling kind of "society." (Like in those novels.) The "boys'" party = smokes & beer. Someone's job = picture with the Dalai Lama. Lotion & a photo frame holder. The Dalai Lama hugs his nightwatch guy. Infusion of pink rosebuds. Scones and clotted cream. Sandwiches with the crusts cut off. "The News From Lake Woebegone." A decision to wear contact lenses today. A cup of soy milk.

If it gives you a certain feeling...

then keep it. I was not especially entranced with this book when I was younger, but I didn't completely dislike it, either: A Gathering of Days. Immersion in the details of the natural surroundings of "New England"'s environment. Attention to spiritual and moral conduct. Formal, adult children (the person writing it is 13 years old but sounds much older). I will keep it.
It gave me a feeling, like, enjoying sunlight and someone baking bread in an oven made of stones in the woods. Like that would always be the primary picture of reality, even though there would also be times of death and winter, these would be mitigated by the quilts one could huddle under. But when I read this book, maybe I was on the West Coast and it was still the 1980s. Maybe it was around the time when I went clam-digging with my parents (i.e. my mother and her boyfriend) and envied (with overall good humor) a certain triumphant man (as did everyone on the beach) for his ability to extract a geoduck from the sand. (A feat which is impossible but possible.)

Lunchtime choices

While I was out, I thought I'd buy myself something for lunch, like, a berry smoothie. So I went to a smoothie store and when I walked in a BIG group of tall white guys with shaved heads were taking up the whole space. They were bounding around like big, happy, well-exercised puppies. There is nothing wrong with that, in small doses, and I know it might sound wrong, but I decided I just couldn't deal with the vibe, so I left. Next door was a sandwich shop. Women and children and a less homogenous make-up of males were inside of it. I felt more comfortable there. I went in and ordered a small tuna sandwich. I might go back for a berry smoothie later, though.

Where am I at?

I feel like I have to slog through old stuff in order to get on with things. This feeling is magnified by the boxes I keep acquiring. I have moved around a lot and had a sort of fragmented life. I like that, but I need to pull the pieces of it together and figure out what to do with them. The side of me that is more of a dancer/risk-taker still exists, but the internally-focused, seemingly-still one is winning. Maybe it's like when a person dismisses a certain tome, and then suddenly realizes that he or she needs to read and understand it for some reason. I used to look forward to a time when I could sort through all my experiences and make something out of them. But now I find that I miss my younger self, sometimes. Today, Old Home Town was part of my quasi-enjoyable slogging process. Ever since I read in a biography about Rose Wilder Lane complaining that she couldn't write anything significant because she was obligated to work on her mother's "goddamned juvenile"(!) I have entertained an interest in seeing something theatrical about her life.

That other place I lived in for a little while....

If I ever go back there, I will go here to see if an old friend from school still works there (which I suspect). I have not been there since 1999. It doesn't feel like it, but this is proof. I watched a clip of Tobi Vail, after watching this chant at the end of Lounge Act. I watched Bull in Heather.
Sometimes it's weird that this is "old music" now. This is where I went salsa dancing. The last place I lived by was Freeway Park. Also I will go to Twice Sold Tails! (Tales) I want to feel a certain kind of urban environment and see mountains in the distance and walk on sidewalks so steep you could fall off of them. Preferably in the summer or maybe autumn. Also I want to go apple-picking in upstate NY in the autumn, though. Oh well. I don't live in those places at the moment! This hour's accomplishment: buy a pack of paper & replicate pages copied out of my mother's Findhorn Garden book for my friend who runs a community garden project.

Quote to remember...and remember...and remember...

"Like Maechelle Wright Small, author of Behaving As If the God in All Life Mattered (Perelandra, 1987) I believe that physical objects retain the emotional energy of what has occurred in a space." Page 61, Lighten Up!

Processing...

My day would not have been the same without the following messages in my inbox: Bollywood Star in Town, Sorriso, Guinea Pig Contest

Snippet from another old book

Transient Songs is kind of from another era, and it's a little bit of Seattle to me. The poem that is quoted on their site is about staying in motels. The end of it goes: "I am addicted to myself / to my solitude / my own silent reflection in mirrors / scattered / mind caught on a thought / untangled braids and fingers / without a match." I think the price of this book went up 400 percent since I bought it over a decade ago. I have some friends that are from a family with 2 sets of identical twins. I'll have to tell them about this site. I think they'd find it interesting. Wow, it is so early in the morning and there was just a sound almost like a car accident somewhere, with an alarm going off but then it stopped. Good grief, insomnia. Boxes of old stuff. I need liberation from material possessions!

Booksbooksbooksbooksbooks....

I can't escape them! Nor can I escape dog people. I am more of a cat person. I can still like my family's dogs, though. I was even toying with the idea of becoming a dogwalker... Today I acquired more boxes of things to sort through. Chiefly, boxes of books. While listening to Nevermind in the car, I couldn't tell if carting around these old boxes was enhancing the experience of listening to the music or vice versa. It also seemed as though the youth of America were crawling suburbia like zombies from the Thriller video. Especially during Lounge Act and Something In The Way. I thought that perhaps I should switch to The Nautical Chart, which is the book that "called me" on the phone. (Very strange.) I did not locate any old Nancy Drew novels among these boxes. I did find old Herbert Rowbarge. (Which kind of cast a little spell on me.)

This is quite nice

Where Is My Mind. With "Pupperoo." And cat.

A first viewing

It's really very sad that depression can kill people. I just watched In Bloom. That's the first time I've seen it. Look at what I was missing since I was only listening to Led Zepplin and the Beatles! Well the wonders of technology have preserved it, for me and others. Cute cute cute cute cute cute cute.

Oh, it's the Beatles!

This clip from Help! has She's A Woman interspersed with The Night Before. Or maybe it's the other way around. Anyways, I remember listening to the latter a lot when I was 14. Such an optimistic time! I mean, when things weren't all flaky...I was boycotting the station that played Smells Like Teen Spirit at the time...Lots of people wore Doc Martens and faded flannel shirts...I wore an old army jacket with the tags ripped off of it...

Attitude

Wow, that's a word. I'm having a really weird evening. A lot of phone messages. I think I am one of those people who can't decide about introversion vs. extroversion. Should I watch a movie, go to DC, or stay in and do the phone writing group thing. I'm really grateful for libraries, and that I get to go on the internet now, and that I also get to spend long periods of time away from the internet, and that life is progressing everywhere on the planet, and that lately I'm getting the hypercompulsive feeling to eat very healthy food like lettuce, crunchy sprouts, nori, etcetra, all the time again. (Except for the "hypercompulsive feeling" part.) Well, anyway. I think that I am going to attempt to write an acrostic about that word.

To ease a headache...

Eisenhower Interstate System. A strange thought: I'm glad I live here; it's a sunny day. Atomic Gardens. Datura. Old memory: believing the pinging sound (of the fire alarm in the apartment above a health food store) was actually an impish boy playing a clay whistle outside. Older memory: Bird calls, like the sounds of large water drops hitting the surface of a pond. These are actually being made by a person leading the way on a path in the Amazon rainforest. Even older memory: At night, on the side of a rural road in Ollantaytambo, encountering an older woman and a young boy. She turns her back and walks quickly away. What task did we interrupt? (Me and a Japanese girl.) Memory from the island: A roomful of older women, essences in small bottles mixed with brandy. At night, a large view of water, mountains, cityscape and sky. Staring for a long time at the moon.

Today's inbox links...

One of my literary friends sent me an old picture from grad school in which I dressed as a "lovesick poet" and had silver glitter on my face and two red hearts drawn on my cheeks. And wore a beret. I was kind of a cute little 20-something. ;-) Maybe I should add it to the rarely visited myspace or facebook pages which I sort-of-halfway-not-really set up. Another friend sent the article about the World's Oldest Mother. "That is why we call it Mother India." Another friend sent me info about Floris, which is proof that Northern Virginia was not always so NOVAish. She told me that her mom was actually raised by her Dad's sisters, who were "spinsters." I rather like that word. And my sister, who prepared herself to brave moose and bears, met neither, but survived an unexpected encounter with quicksand, sent some links, including lions, birds and the meaning of our surname.Which I had wondered about, but never guessed even though now it looks so obvious. Yay, an edible flower.

Old disappeared paper...

Too bad I no longer have this old paper I wrote my freshman year for my philosophy class. "The moment he stepped into me the woods became alive with myriad beings...I now had pan-pipes in my hands and was aware of shaggy legs and cloven hooves...The numerous birds responded, their songs making an exquisite counterpoint to the music..."(page 119). I got a "C" on it. "When I had almost reached the spot where the experience had started, the heightened awareness began to fade...Approaching the end of the path and the cedar tree, I began to walk sedately, which was just as well since a boy was sitting on the seat nearby. It might have been disconcerting for at least one of us if I had come dancing down the path..." (page 45). I was going for something about having a Dionysian experience.
"You don't mind me walking beside you?
'Not in the least.'
He put his arm round my shoulder. I felt the actual physical contact.
You don't mind if I touch you?
'No.'
You really feel no repulsion or fear?
'None.'
Excellent." (page 109)
It would have been interesting to see what I was trying to get at, even if it was convoluted.
"I asked him where his pan-pipes were. He smiled at the question:
I do have them, you know.
And there he was, holding them between his hands. He began to play a curious melody."
(page 109).
It was my favorite chapter in The Findhorn Garden:
You can just look at a thing, or you can really "see" what you are looking at. -ROC

To eat...

Tonight I ate a vegetarian (vegan?) eggplant dish made with harissa sauce. It was cooked in a tagine and was very delicious.
Later, I reread The Findhorn Garden and I thought these were interesting food quotes from Eileen Caddy:
"It would do you far more good to sit down and eat a handful of raisins and nuts or whatever you really fancy instead of sitting there, pushing down salad because everyone else is doing it...Don't be like a lot of sheep." --page 45
"It's so easy to develop the idea that it is wrong to eat certain kinds of food. For this very reason, one of Peter's favorite stories is about my 'steak and whiskey diet.' He revels in telling it, especially when he knows he's talking to a group of avid vegetarians." --page 47
"What I do is encircle the food with love, I bless it, then I eat it and enjoy it." --page 47

Long car trips can be fun

Especially if I utilize them to listen to music. I think Rich Girl is a good antidote for anyone who ever felt traumatized by Captain Hook. I like how the album's lyrics book reminds me of a Christine de Pizanesque illuminated manuscript. Also heard a fun song, Myriad Harbor, on a college radio station today. Sometimes I listen to foreign language CDs. (Not that I will necessarily really learn the language, but maybe I can at least understand which one people are using.) A lot of Korean is spoken where I live, and it is all over the signs on many of the businesses. I will check that out. For now, I have decided to listen to Cantonese and Mandarin. (Afterall, Olympics are coming up!) Also, a CD of snippets of birds' languages.

Watched some clips

From:
Beyond Rangoon, which a friend of mine showed me a while ago.
Real Women Have Curves
(Who makes our clothes?)
Voices Carry
I don't recall seeing that music video when I was younger. I just heard the song a lot the radio. In Illinois, I used to hear a couple fighting sometimes. The woman did a lot of screaming and crying, later she'd be happy and singing and humming. I finally called the police after they woke me up at 2 am. After that, there were no more disturbing sounds. I kind of imagine their relationship starting out like the one in the music video.
I have to figure out why my computer says I have a low battery even though it's charging. Maybe the electrical tape on the cord isn't working.
The Sweet Escape
Marilyn Monroe

Some readings...

No Way Home
The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox
Two artists, according to wikipedia, don't like to be called "feminist."
Toni Morrison and PJ Harvey

I can think of 3 or 4 children's books

that I would like to own again someday. (Since I didn't take care of them. Sigh.) One is The Mysteries of Harris Burdick by Chris Van Allsburg. To me, it was simultaneously frustrating, creepy and magical. One of my old roommates had the portfolio edition. I also really wish I had The Emerald-Eyed Cat Mystery (#75 Nancy Drew) Preferably from 1984, because I think the later editions have a different cover. I got it for Christmas when I was in 2nd grade and I remember thinking "You expect me to read that?" It was great. Let's see, first she talked to this sketchy Chinese guy and had tea and a meal with him in Chinatown somewhere (in San Francisco maybe?) and possibly saw some New Year Festivities. Then she ended up, somehow, waking up in a room in a mysterious hacienda, either in the Southwest or Mexico. There was an older, forbidding Senora and a cat and a tray with rolls. Oh, the many dark and mysterious rooms of the mansion and the cat! the cat! were so freaking cool. There was a girl named Elena and her boyfriend and they all three had to escape. I wonder who actually wrote it. Also, although I don't care as much about this book, it could be interesting to re-encounter the one that had something to do with her going to France. All I remember is some girl who was the daughter of a famous man told her: "Daddy hated omelettes," there was some kind of crystalline object breaking, and the words "in order to make an omelette you have to break an egg." (In French.) Ouef. And, because it gave me chills when I read it, I would like to find the paperback version of The Kachina Doll Mystery. (Later note: I found that book. It wasn't in French. It was Italian!)

Cositas sobre hoy dia

Today is my little sister's birthday and she's flying to Alaska to see our relatives who live there. I guess she is 27? She was born in 1981. But to me she always seems younger than even people who might be younger than she is, because I'm the older sister. Maybe I should just, like, send her an e-mail, saying, "'oh!' sighed jo, 'it's dreadful to be poor!'" Well, she's into lions, so I will probably get her something lion-ish. I feel a little poor today because I sent in my rent check and finally paid the medical bill for the awful "I feel nauseous and I'm seeing bright lights and now I can't get off the floor" back injury I got back in September, of which my health insurance covered not a cent. Oh well. Happier thoughts! Today I picked some lettuce out of a garden project that my friend co-ordinates, and I went to the bookstore and read some books, and I went to the grocery store and thought about how sometimes going to the grocery store at night in NOVA is about as low stress as making a trip to the airport, and as I drove home I wondered, if I ever wrote, if people would say, either in secret or in public, "your stuff sounds like so-and-so's." I decided I want to check out usgs.gov because my sister said it is a good place to find and identify bird calls.

Reading a book flap...and later...and later...

"In 1974 Annie Dillard published Pilgrim At Tinker Creek, a mystical excursion into the natural world that established her among the first rank of American writers. Her book received the Pulitzer Prize, and the critics compared her writing to Herman Melville. In 1975 Dillard took up residence on an island in the Puget Sound..."
Later--Reading passages in Holy the Firm and feeling high amounts of anxiety, such as one might feel as a teenager on drugs, & a sense of some kind of collective memory about religious persecution of women. Staring at a large insect and watching it crawl under the bed and into the closet.
Later--Looking over the book and not re-experiencing that anxiety at all. Instead, just wanting to remember the waitress at "Casa Del Sol" on the waterfront, who walked out at low tide in the evening and set down a plate of food for the seagulls.

Song experiences

Oooo, cool, I just found this song my sister put on a C.D. for me a while back and I listened to it while coming home. It kind of drew away the cobwebs of the scullery maidish feeling I was feeling. Full Moon.

Song experiences

23 is the kind of song you might listen to on a road trip. After stopping and getting entranced with a gigantic bumble bee feeding on a flower, but at the same time feeling a little bit weirded out by it, you might notice a person who looks a little ill out of the corner of your eye, and feel a strange sense of concern for the person, who is completely dressed in white and just for some reason looks like he's not feeling well. But then you'd end up driving away in the car anyways. While listening to the song, the car would begin to vibrate and feel very unsteady. You'd end up pulling over to the edge of the road, running into the woods twice, feeling really weird again, looking at the shredded tire, feeling kind of like your heart was just gouged out, talking in a very disoriented fashion on the dying cell phone (which would make the tow truck guy quite grouchy with you), trying to ignore the safety warning in French on the visor, reading a magazine to be calm, feeling very quiet in the tow truck, getting a new tire in a gas station, the tow truck driver beams at you with the good news, you hand over the credit card, later you stare at some signs for "Heartbreak Kid" and "Why Did I Get Married" (movies). As you drive away, you'd begin to feel really mad but try to put an almost half fun spin on the whole situation by imagining a shoot out between two people in a saloon in a comedy. You would no longer be listening to "23."

Other components

Another component of my day off was encountering a young man on the sidewalk who told me the story of a girl who survived being attacked by soldiers who lay in wait for her when she went to draw water from a well and is now being helped by the organization he represented, which was CARE. It sounded like a good thing to give money to, and I told him so, but unfortunately I only could give about $5 cash and he was looking for $30 by credit card and could not accept cash. Another component was, I went to my stepfather's house to clear out some of my books and things, and then we watched the military channel. Him: Ranger School makes this stuff look like a piece of cake. Me: Do you know where that is? Him: Yeah, that's Parris Island. Me: Oh yeah...(I sang a few lyrics from "Goodnight Saigon" but he gave me a weird look and I don't think he recognized it.) Me: So, were you there? Him: These are Marines! Me: Well, I don't know these things. Him: Father and stepfather went to West Point and you don't know jack-diddle. (But saying it good-naturedly.) So how's the job search going? You have to be careful, you're losing your edge, and that's scary because you're a good employee! (Me: in thought only--well, look at this stuff we're watching, maybe I'm losing my edge because I didn't go to boot camp, and I should have signed up when they called me in college instead of giving them a haughty reply about how having parents in the military was enough. And, you just laughed when the women were doing the boot camp exercises because it looks cooler when men do them.) Another component, even though it happened much later, was I got an accidental but kind of fascinating (to me, anyway) voicemail recording of his book on tape. "Coy discovered... literary or life phases, call them what you will, are never neatly closed...ghosts...ships, sunken treasure...the sea is unchanging...despite all the lucidity...watching...the woman with the freckled skin affixing a balloon of Spanish gold to the wooden mast...he had gone to the window hoping for a breeze from the ocean...and was hunting her own white ghosts...he had never dreamed...until the last port, he remembered before falling asleep, we all live tangled in the line of a whale hook...there is a direction connection that comes between the voyage...and the expulsion...it was sunny...breakfast of hot bread, cocoa, coffee and orange juice...pigeons in the plaza...Coy was eating half a roll...staring...the belltower of a church--end of message." Don't know the book.

Otra dia

I have been checking out way too many books from the library. One of them was What Makes You Not A Buddhist by the monk/film-maker from Bhutan. I had the day off, so after I read some it, I went to the folklife festival. Right next to a Bhutanese temple which emanated monotone chanting, some Texans were playing Cielito Lindo in a music tent. (And I think that version with Pavarotti and Enrique Iglesias is kind of a riot.)

On the way to the festival

I half-listened to some people on the radio discussing political memos & use of language & classified information. I thought, even though I have a low-paying job and I'm in too much debt, I'm glad I'm just on my way to a festival and not to that, which is probably going on a few blocks away, or something. I'd found my favorite "I am pretending I can understand French" learning tool and listened to it.
"L'une des siens"
Je suis une des lettres de l'ecriture d'une femme
un des echos de la voix d'elle, l'une des siens,
l'une des siens, l'un des siennes,
un chien, une sirene
un lien de sa ligne, une delie de ses pleins,
quelqu'un d'elle
Tamanasse an des'yeux ca
"Petite homme"
une main un vol d'oiseaux balayant le coucher
balayant le coucher coucher
balayant le coucher coucher
"A l'arene des audacieux"
et j'ai danse la maloya avec l'espoir
escape from my boredom!
"Au cabaret sauvage"
C'etaient de grands battages
a s'aiguiser les mains pour toutes les luttes
c'etait de grands battages des nerfs,
des orpheons de questions.

Dreams and categorization

A dream that I had this morning, of a girl running away at the sight of a blue pen I was holding and me saying "It's just a pen!" to her would be a scared-little-girl-running-away dream. It's very different from one that I had on Sunday. Martin Luther King was in my dream. I feel it's safe to say I've never before seen him in any of my dreams. He was a big, round, smiling soul. I said to him, "It is a great honor to shake your hand." I thought he had Jesus energy. He kind of smiled at me very quietly and nicely. Maybe he said thank you. I feel like the communication got more dreamy at this point. "It's a collective thing," he told me. "Oh, is it?" I said. He looked a bit confused, as if we weren't quite communicating, but then I kind of started to agree with him. He said, "Thank you for being willing." And another smile-smile. I almost said something to him about Thoreau, but instead I tried to tell him that my sister lived where he had lived, but he looked confused again. I could tell he was about to go. I didn't want him to go away. The dream ended strangely with me holding onto his thumb. As I was waking up, I heard a certain bird call outside my window. It seemed to be saying "Whose there, whose there..." I kind of wished I could stay in that mystical state, but shortly after I woke up I noticed I was not feeling that way anymore. It would be nice to have more of those kinds of mystical dreams. The bird songs really kind of added that element to it. I don't know if I can identify them. I also heard doves, but they were different from doves. (Who sometimes have also made me feel mystical, in certain settings.)

Yesterday was...

Sunday Morning!
I think maybe they should play that song at church services. Just in case someone in the congregation is secretly muttering "Our Mother Who Art In Heaven..." After that, they could watch The Whale Rider.

A few songs

A cote du paradis (improperly typed, sung in a language I don't quite know, even though I was able to pass a translation exam in it) is by Lo'Jo. Oh Conquering Internet, where are the videos or lyrics to L'une des siens? To Au caberet sauvage? Or Petit homme? Or Le "Poème de Japonais", which is in "Amazigh", I was told. That's harder to find on the internet.
However, Tricky is easier to find. ;-) And Tricky is cool...
Christiansands, Tricky Kid, Broken Homes, Makes Me Wanna Die

Food thoughts

This morning I lay in bed and looked at myself through little snapshots of my life. A lot of them were food-related for some reason.
1) I'm fourteen and in the back of a car that my friend's father is driving and the friend and I are giggling hysterically over the ripeness of some tomatoes in a brown paper bag that he just bought at the farmer's market. He looks at us weirdly, as though we are on some kind of substance. We are, but it doesn't really matter, because he regularly smokes up with his daughter.
2)I'm fifteen and I'm in a new, shiny rich kids public high school with almost no official friends. I don't seem to fit into any clique. Every lunch period, I buy muffins out of the vending machine and hide in a study carrel in the library, where I eat them carefully, trying not to make too much noise with the cellophane wrapper, and I look at art books.
3)I'm sixteen and two guys I met through a new friend at school are coming over to my parent's house. I just got out of a yoga class. When they arrive, they tell me that Kurt Cobain just died. Even though in Seattle, all I ever did was listen to "old" music from the 60s and 70s, I have been just been listening to In Utero. My heart is broke / but I have some glue / help me inhale / and mend it with you / we'll float around / and hang out on clouds / then we'll come down / and have a hangover. They take off their baseball caps and eat hamburgers at the dining room table and talk about how we can't believe he just died.
4) I'm twenty and I'm in a cafe called Dulce Espera in the rainforest and my boyfriend is snapping his fingers and calling out "Amigo" to the waiters.
5) I'm twenty, in a restaurant in the Andes mountains. After I thoughtlessly seat myself in a chair directly across from the one that my boyfriend has pulled out for me to sit down in, he scowls at me and says "The American boys are not very nice to the American girls."
6) I'm twenty-nine and I'm on a "date" and the date feeds me food from a fork and I go along with it. Later I will tell my friends about how awkward it felt to go along with it. By the end of it, I'm saying "I'm not really into dating right now" and he says "you're really hard to read." A few weeks later he text messages me after he gets back from Europe and I type "I hope you had a nice trip." Twenty minutes later: "It was great! When can I see you again?" I stare at the message and decide not to write anything back and feel like I'm kind of being a jerk.
7) I'm twenty nine and I've been lying on the linoleum floor on top of my jacket in a hospital emergency room for the past hour. The morning breakfast cart rolls around and the guy wheeling looks in the room and I try to read the expression on his face. I decide that he can see suffering and stress, but then again, he probably sees it all the time.
8) I'm twenty and I'm trying a bite of one of the non-vegetarian and delicious "papa rellenas" which a woman has come aboard a bus to sell to us.
9) Yesterday I tried "Synergy," which is "Kombucha" which is either really revitalizing and delicious or just a little weird and vinegary. It comes in a very cheerful bottle with rainbows on the wrapper. It kind of reminds me of either umbrella-shaped rainbow popsicles or riding in the back of a station wagon with kids. Which reminds me of walking on the playground of a campground at age six, singing Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This.

To keep or donate?

Books I like, but I wonder if I need to own them?
All My Patients Are Under The Bed
Walking A Sacred Path

After this I'll read the Wireless Adapter manual and contemplete becoming a technical writer

If I habitually read/write and this post is a room, and it has this one certain quote from a book about Thoreau and Emerson, which I just can't find because I still haven't unpacked all my boxes from moving yet...
then there is just so much cool in this room.
If I hear snippets of conversation that go sort of like this...
support vegans and eaters of squid and guinea pigs
be compassionate and understanding of alcoholism, self mutiliation, PTSD, thieves, spies, computer hackers, people who have what it takes to complete their oeuvre and support liking what you like
and 12-step-programs for those who may wedge nails into tires (and then feel sorry they did it afterwards--empathy empathy empathy!)
"Finally I said, Mami, and they both looked back, already knowing what was happening."
"the hamster knows it was good because it cannot easily remember / whose idea it was"
there is just so much cool in this room
"As Shibbudada settled down in our drawing room, I would look nervously through a window and see what I knew I would see, Taiji advancing alond Number 7's red gravel driveway. My stomach would knot up in a state of highest anxiety. I could barely get the tea down my throat." Page 123 Climbing the Mango Trees
there is so much cool in this room
"He gaped at himself a moment, through her eyes and through the eyes of each family he'd plodded past. What a crushing feeling it was." Page 36 Heaven Lake
there is so much cool in this room

Finished recently

Climbing the Mango Trees by Madhur Jeffrey
Heaven Lake by John Dalton
I think that book could make a very interesting movie.

Recovery

Dear body--way to catch the worst cold/bronchial ailment right in the middle of a heatwave, just after you've moved into a dusty basement apartment, so that indoors feels like a 19th century drama, and out of doors feels like a horrible tropical fever. I ended up taking some green and lavender capsules of antibiotic in addition to using flower essences. I was a little disappointed that I couldn't just cure it with essences (at least, not very fast). But after I found out that a girl I work with is on her second round of antibiotics and might have pneumonia, I thought, maybe they helped after all. And I was even able to deal with a rowdy night at work yesterday. At one point, I was checking I.D.s since the bouncer had to deal with a recalcitrant patron (are you whipper-snappers born in 1987 really old enough to drink now?) Then the guy came up front and started yelling either at me or his girlfriend (actually I think it was her). The bouncer came back and my boss waved me inside. As the tempers outside escalated, I was surprised to feel, for a brief moment, a few tears coming to my eyes. Cute in a song or story can be less cute in real life, although sometimes these things do make you live in the moment, for better or worse, and naturally there is always a crowd who will enjoy the show. Much of the time I can be entertained easily. However, these kinds of books are really the only thing I can bear to look at when I'm really sick. Anyways, I now have a newfound appreciation of the human respiratory system.

Various sides of moi today

Coughing, hacking and consuming (a bit belatedly) Air Armor (Trader Joe's knockoff of Airbourne). Not letting my annoyance about my health insurance take over my brain. Reading various lit/blogger types of things, like this from May 29. Imagining working pithy commentary into stories about the muses of a master of ornate ceramic toilet bowl handles, followed by thoughts tinged with either compassion (the more noble emotion) or pity (which is less noble, but more likely after an indulgence in sarcasm). Enjoying looking at library books on the culinary arts of India and the history of Latin and, perversely, enjoying being sick because of being able to look at those. Thinking, is it possible I went to school to study something that is maybe only about 20% of my personality? Women dervishes (another video I checked out in Illinois.) Perelandra flower essences. E-mailing friend about a book fair...what is this addiction? Recently, I decided I need to get rid of about three quarters of my books. Libraries exist for a reason.

Art-O-Matic

Jesus at Artomatic and Finding Christ Through Cookies.

Tunes!

Mrs. Robinson
America
Sound of Silence
American Tune
El Condor Pasa

God is their co-pilot

Jesus is Lord in New Zealand. I can definitely understand this kind of religious experience. One time, when I was coming back from a road trip to Texas, it began to rain really hard. Then one of those big ol' clouds started bearing down on the vast, flat stretch of Illinois landscape. The combination of Little House (the books, not the TV show) cyclone imagery and my grandmother's indoctrination from my childhood suddenly overwhelmed me, and I found myself calling out to Jesus. In my case, the Lord guided me safely toward an exit ramp and deposited me at a Denny's restaurant, where I ate an omelette and hashbrowns with tabasco sauce and ketchup.
I believe it was near Bloomington.

Now, watch a really good dance teacher

having a funny kind of conversation with a horn player!
Her CD of Greek, Bulgarian, Rom dances is the one that is most often played in my car these days.

Other films & such

The Full Monty (by myself in the Egyptian Theatre, the first Friday after I'd moved to Seattle) and Shopping For Fangs (alone at the Asian American film festival, where some older guy tried to get me to go out for coffee with him, and told me that he'd read The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith during his childhood in Australia.) I think I also saw Deconstructing Harry and I know I saw Kundun with friend(s?) Memory fades a bit. Speaking of film and video, I enjoy watching Gwen Stefani these days. Ever since one of my writing friends told us to watch Wind It Up.
I think she is actually kind of a storyteller. (Like that Mormon kid on American Idol.) Hey Baby, Don't Speak, Ex-Girlfriend, Simple Kind of Life, What You Waiting For. Hmmm, sucked into storytellingness.

Because...oh, why not?

Erendira. Aqui Aca Aqui Aca.
Sexy Calvin Klein Ad.
Stolen Car

What makes life more fun?

Random spontaneous moments of creative energy, with elements of light-heartedness and singing. Yet, why do we still become enmeshed in other kinds of feelings? Maybe because they don't feel so dense at first. But are they really satisfactory? I got this sort of feeling after a brief stint of TV watching last night, 'cause me and the people I watched American Idol with thought that Paula Abdul just came off as being kinda jealous of Syesha.

A few old diversions (Seattle)

for an old friend who checks this every once in a while ;-)
Peliculas: Erendira, Men With Guns, Wings of the Dove, El Mariachi, Ma Vie En Rose, Henry and June. Canciones: Mexican Moon by Concrete Blonde, Spill the Wine by War, and Naked Eye by Luscious Jackson. And also, a picture of The Sound Garden.

So feel good

Jesus is just alright with me, man! Men. Amen.

Literature evokes...spirituality? dogma? humor?

Seems like it would be cool to find and read more literature which is infused with insights about spiritual pursuits :-) Although, my preference is, it would hopefully never echo any of the apocalyptic egocentricity of the ever popular Left Behind books or Frank Peretti. Unless, perhaps, it was being humorous?

1234

Note to subconcious self: from now on, all the tires on your car are going to stay perfect and intact. 4 tire blowouts is the limit. (2 in the past 2 weeks). And, the debt on that card you are going to hand over once again to pay for yet another new tire is going to begin to decline steadily and rapidly. So, get ready. This is the new life, and is "the first day of the rest of your life."

A good novel about spices

The last novel I read was The Mistress of Spices. I pulled it out of a bag of books after I had to take my car in for some work. Finished reading it behind a library on another day (waiting for more work to be done on the car) while lying on the grass and occasionally tasting some wood sorrel (but not too much, because of the oxalic acid.) Looked at the various plants in the brush behind me and wondered if some big leafy shoots would be edible or poisonous (like rhubarb leaves.) I wonder how the movie turned out? Well, of course it looks like Hollywood took out the "older woman" part. Ah, yes, a young, attractive actress, embodiment of youthful attractiveness...

A few other wild edibles

Black locust flowers
Plantain
Wood sorrel
Honeysuckle blossoms

Weekend Socializing

That alternative to staying in and crying into the laundry basket. (Ha ha.) Go to a bowling alley, but don't bowl. Instead, step outside and make phone calls. Attempt to enter, and get kicked out of, a mysterious cafe. "If you are looking for a bar or karaoke than this place is not the place for you!" (So, then what is going on in those rooms?) Attend a porch party and observe the hostess swinging around the post, shaking some kind of maraca-ish type instrument and calling out to people on the street to come on over and have a beer. Feel slightly embarrassed because the most hip-hop looking guy invited off the street is looking rather dubiously at the guitar player who is now singing about being born in a sharecropper's shack. Nod as the girl across the porch remarks "I think we were a little uncool for them" after he and his friends depart. Sing along to various tunes, such as Cecilia, Folsom Prison Blues, Pinball Wizard, and an original love ballad, with a continuous refrain: "Manic Maybe." Beat on a turtle shell, try a few guitar chords. Watch people blow fireballs with Everclear. Lie on a big couch and admire a real velvet Elvis painting. Go out, and continue the wild edible plant hunt.

d`a`n`c`e`m`u`s`i`c

Oh, entertainment. (Of the music video variety.) In a certain mood, could I enjoy watching something quite cynical, like Henry Rollins "Liar"? Perhaps. Could it also give me a stomachache? Mmmhmm. This is a snippet from something I watched a while back: Kathak dance from Satyajit Ray's "Chess Players". Then I found other videos, such as Radha Kathak Tarana, Kathak in Varanasi and a Kathak dance class in Calcutta.

Which is funnier

Rockin' The Suburbs or Popular

Caaaaaaats

Miao

Edibles

I have made a date with a friend, who has been busy traveling and doing some Earth Day stuff, to go hunting for some edible greens next weekend. How exciting. :-) Lambsquarters (with cat), Purslane, and Chickweed (with some kind of critter.)

Strange days

Today I found myself watching the new Harold and Kumar movie with some people, including a friend of mine who said "I felt the need to watch it because of the political content." Kind of silly ;-) Here is a link to her article about effective communication at an IMF protest. Also, an interesting quote from a speech I attended around Earth Day: "Pollution should really be considered a silent form of violence." --Ralph Nader

++++++++

Useful to consider: after achieving success (in art, business, etcetra) regardless of who you are or where you're from, if you get a signal from the universe that it might be a good idea, then don't forget to work hard on the part about not-making-people-feel-just-used-by-you. Terrific, beautiful idea. It may be that there's an absolutely incredible amount of room for growth in that arena. And if so, then why not embrace that challenge. Also: internal journeying as well as external journeying can be of great benefit, yes?

Jessica of the 80s

Jessica and I became friends because all the other girls were mean to her on the bus and made her cry. Girls On Film I was a first grader; they were all third graders. We lived in the same, newly-built apartment complex, where life could be very dull. Jack and Diane Sometimes, the highlight of a long day was to find some construction worker's old beer bottle, fill it with pebbles and water, and smash it. Save A Prayer She was the most deviant girl I'd ever met. I remember her shoving me in front of a construction worker when she was caught almost sneaking into a building. He briefly looked me over and then turned angrily towards her. Maybe he could see a little would-be thief. (Jessica had a habit of breaking into and taking money out of people's cars.) Electric Barberella Jessica had two scary uncles who always had giggling, skinny blond girlfriends. I saw one of her uncles beat her in the street as a punishment for almost running across the road when a car was coming. She told me that once, he had jumped through a glass window. Is There Something I Should Know In the apartment she shared with her mother and uncles, Jessica kissed posters of her "boyfriends" Mickey (Micheal Jackson and Duran Duran) while twisting her body into memorable little snake dance. Union of the Snake But perhaps the most memorable incident involved the time she made me jump off a balcony. When I tried to leave, she actually blocked the way to the staircase. All She Wants Is I must jump, as soon as I went, she would follow me, she promised. Finally, I closed my eyes and gave myself a push...The Reflex and then my butt was on the beautiful grassy ground, my head was swimming, and she was running toward me, saying "Are you okay? I can't believe you really did it!" She helped me off the ground and I followed her back up the stairs. There, I watched my friend, the bully, swing her legs over the edge of the balcony. I Don't Want Your Love She looked down, then at me, and said, "I'm scared. Can you show me how to do it again?" Come Undone

Recent works that were put into my hands

A free copy of Born Into Brothels, by my landlord, who has to evict me and the one remaining roommate (he actually doesn't own the house and his mother is going to move a family in--see if they like those rooftop squirrels!!) and The Queen's Fool because my friend wants me to read it. She called today and left a message asking how I was doing with the book. I called back and left a message saying that after I read a part about Lady Jane Grey being scholarly, I decided to use my free day at a good library.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Also, some kite-flying pictures. ('Cause I was struck by Manik's love of kite-flying in Born and b/c Gasworks Park is a very cool place to fly a kite.)

food/mood/humor

One of my friends sent me Snoopy's Guide to the Writing Life last fall. Picked it up again today. Went out, did some stuff, came back, ate a few too many "seedy little currant cookies" and looked at it again. It's kind of funny, I thought. However, it can also be very funny. (I had thought, earlier.)

~~~~~~~

I was thinking. I really like Maria by Blondie.
I bet Dante would like that song.
I think it could be a song for anyone.
(Thats a girl with a southern accent.)

Lambsquarters

I kind of want to try lambsquarters.
They are supposed to be quite nutritious. However, I am scared to pick something that will poison me, which is why I will probably never pick wild mushrooms to eat. I have some friends who know how to identify all those plants; they used to do it for a living in Washington State, and now, how lucky, they are in Northern Virginia. I shall have to ask them to take me on an edible foods nature walk.

Ideas processing

Argumentatively, with slightly cynical undertones, and liberal use of the word "I." As this moment is occurring...I must say I don't think I feel very supportive...frankly, if it has anything to do with anything, I also really don't feel very sorry for you...I'm sure you are a very nice and sensitive person sometimes...however...also at times think you're kind of not...and by the way, why don't you get off the depresso track...*yawn*...sorry if that sounds sort of mean...do you really want future generations to find your work more boring than need be...well, afterall, you are the accomplished one in the field...absolutely unnecessary to put up the display of a humble response...just a few questions to possibly ask oneself...in a light way...

Processing ideas idea

Two people (or more) stare at a picture and form different interpretations of it which quasi-simultaneously interlap and overfeed; i.e., one person's ideas are influenced by and influencing the other's, but this occurs without any actual verbal exchange.

Spiritual practice(s)

Here is a clip about something called Dzogchen. In posting it, I'm reminding myself that besides being interested in things like films, music, art and literature, I'm also interested in the forms of spiritual practices that can be found on this planet. From many different backgrounds. Also, after I read my friend's grandfather's obituary and found out that he was known for his great love of nature, I want to remind myself to cultivate that more in my life, too. More Wildflowers. More Wildflowers again! Life is short.

mewsic (& other...)

So, Bob Dylan won a prize! Hmmm. Cool. Thats another artist whose music used to come through my wall in that apartment next to a bar in upstate NY. The one that I used to actually wait for the patrons to play was Color My World, though...Anyway, I digress...Over the fall, I went and saw the I He I'm Her Not Here (didn't the words do something like that in the very beginning of I'm Not There?) movie--which was actually released on my birthday, I found out later. One of the things I thought was, "Wow, I never really listened to the lyrics of Like A Rolling Stone before," and another thing I thought was, "there are a lot of songs in this movie I'm not that familiar with!" But I guessed that some of my old friends whose parents were more into his music would already know most of them. I have a Vashon Island memory of pulling giant horsetail weeds out of a hillside I used to live on (my friend and I were weeding it for my mother's ex-boyfriend) and listening to the Beatles and Bob Dylan blaring out of the open windows of the living room. Later, he informed us that we'd blown out the speakers. Thus, I learned that electronic equipment could be delicate.

What is a "mania?"

At this moment, my answer is: its when life gets really, really bright, like a super potent juice pureed with all sorts of berries and fruits, and then many things on the planet start looking really extraordinarily fascinating and you want to learn about them in a big gulp, and they all whoosh through your head very very very fast, yes, but then...you take a breath...
(I wish it were so simple for all people to Simmer Down.)

Burdock

Personal encounters with burdock: As a child, I put the burrs in my hair a la Ramona Quimby. Well, sort of. I think Ramona made an elaborate crown out of her burrs; I'm not sure if I got that far along with it. I probably got the girl next door to put some into her hair, too. I have also eaten the root in a sushi roll.

Sigh

Sigh sigh sigh SIGH sigh sigh SIGH sigh sigh SIGH sigh sigh.
I wonder how one would replicate sigh in other languages. Huh.

Wildflowers

The other day, I was flipping backwards through Wildflowers of the Blue Ridge and Great Smoky Mountains and I was rather struck by the similarities and differences in shape between Smooth Solomon's Seal and Bladder Campion. Just one of those things...

"Arianna"

Heard it long ago in a bookstore I worked in, listened to it recently in the car, found this version.

(not) writing

Sometimes I have a writing group with some of my friends from school, over the phone. We have used some exercises from the internet and also ones from school or ones we've found or made up. We were going to have it again this weekend until one of my friends was affected by a tragedy.
So swift, sudden, and sad.