One photo (taken in Paris) says it all

Too little time for reflection

It's another one of those cycles where I run from event to work to chores and the most I get to post is a phrase a Facebook. What kind of writer's life is that? It's a sign of the times, no? But there are times, like this one, where my nose is running, my brain is fogged, and my necks aches, and I've only a half hour before yoga when I have to express some gratitude for this life, and pause. So here I am.

Studs Terkel died yesterday. I never knew him, but felt I did from his open-hearted writing. A mensch. A listener - something I endeavor to become. I wish I was able to do this better in my classes this quarter. I spend too much time talking, trying to fill the empty spaces. I am exhausted by it, especially in my morning class. How can I be present for them, and give them tools for telling their stories? This is my koan, consistently now, for years. Maybe I should reread some of Studs oral histories and see what emerges. Maybe I should give excerpts of one of his books to my Labor class. That might be a plan.

I went out as a "Blue State" last night for the Halloween festivities on the island - with blue hair, blue lipstick, blue eye highlights, blue gown. I had a good time despite a rocky beginning with Sam's costume anxiety, and the way he attempts to "spread the wealth." Thankfully he seemed to have a good time when he met up with his friend, Seth, and then later with his dad. I gave him lots of space and hung out with my friends, then went to a party at a new performing space. It was good to see the community after such a long period of solitary work. Ester did an aerial performance in Black Light to the music of Jefferson Airplane (Just ask Alice) - definitely spectacular entertainment. I met a few interesting people (don't ask me about the strange man - called himself a "lama" who practices "tantra" - I think he thought I was one of Krishna's goatherders). He told me about the glories we will be witnessing in the coming years, and the transmissions he is carrying. I haven't met up with someone like him since my NY years. He handed me his card, told me how much he expected to learn from me, and I wanted to go run for the hills - never wear electrifying blue hair in public again, I thought.

I did reconnect, more deeply than expected, with various acquaintances...perhaps we all need to connect in these moments before the election...moments when we feel a mixture of hope and dread, and realize that we need to find new ways to connect and help each other in this time that has so many challenges awaiting us.

ohmigoddess what a culturally rich moment we are living in

And by saying that, I don't mean to dismiss how scary it is as well.

Write me and tell me what you think of this constellation of information.

http://www.stealbackyourvote.org

http://aeconomics.blogspot.com/2008/10/our-documentary-is-done-watch-it-here.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycu0soy5RW8

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=9050474362583451279

http://palinaspresident.com

http://feministe.us/blog/archives/2008/10/19/you-betcha-doggone-it/#comment-207283

why I can't blog right now

The marathon started a month ago - the school year. It is difficult enough to focus on my work during this time, but it has also been hard to see much beyond the political, economic, emotional moment that we as a nation, and we as the world are swimming in (and some are sinking in). I have been reading voraciously, blog after blog, news item after news item, youtube parodies, interviews, excerpts and exposes - it has been a whirlwind.....and what has emerged? Not much that I want to write here. I am overwhelmed, at least periodically, and other times I am thrilled to be on my surfboard, tied to it, as I get buffeted by one wave of powerful events after another.

I'll write more when I can feel the space for it ...today I have to work on a sabbatical proposal, two course proposals, and a piece about peace. I think the latter will be called "how to talk to a lynch mob." Ay-yay-yay.

I also have to give up four hours of my day to be in the confusion of a friend's fashion show - she asked me to be a model, and I said yes (foolishly). I guess we all need frivolous moments in this time...

First day of classes

I'm pooped, but happy. Students in both classes (Art in a Time of War and Eco-art) seem very open and engaged. I'm grateful for that. Found out that the reason for my exhaustion is more straightforward or mechanical than I imagined. Finishing the book, my abscessed tooth, the antibiotics have all been contributing factors, and I just found out today that my body has not be assimilating the thyroxine I've been taking, so that's the major contributing factor in the low energy department. I wonder what the long term effects of being this hypo-thyroid might be. Hopefully switching to another form of the supplement will make the difference. I am hopeful.

Despite my fatigue, I attended a great seminar with our local herbalist tonight and learned oodles about inflammatory foods and how to balance out Omega 6 with Omega 3 fatty acids. She also did a chapter on GM foods - something I know quite a bit about, but I can never cease to be concerned about the way they've crept into the American diet and the ramifications of that fact. What's also concerning is that most of my friends and family eat in such a way that they are making themselves sick with each bite. Truly disturbing. I'll write more about this when I am less tired.

when you realize how little time you have

I've been working so bloody hard on this book out of some sense that I have very little time (let's hope I have more than I imagine). Perhaps it's because there have been so many deaths of close friends and neighbors this past year that I finally have fully inhaled my mortality (despite some near misses many, many times). In any case, I am watching my body rally repeatedly, even in its current state of exhaustion, so that I can do what remains to do on the book. I am loving every minute of the process, when my infected tooth doesn't make me feel like I want to sleep for several days.

The most difficult thing about imagining one's death is realizing that you might miss the most important moments in your child's life...that's really, really hard to think about...but I am not going to go there, since I have more tangible issues to contend with at the moment like writing my syllabi and paying bills.

A Debut

Sometimes you don't realize when you have a gift. My son is one of those people. He has the passion, and he unleashed it the other night. I was so grateful that I was there, since I almost didn't make it.

Off-line bliss

What does it mean to decide to take one's self off-line in this time of constant connection? It means revisiting the "world behind the world" that Michael Meade speaks so vividly to. The world without ticking clocks - although at Breitenbush there are bells for eating 3 times a day, but that's all that dictates one's daily movements other than the sun, the weather, and whether the soaking tubs are being cleaned. I am so grateful that we get to go there this evening, bit I am aware that it will be under some duress with Bob having missed many hours of sleep last night, and we will be driving in the dark.

Hey, compared to my friends in Cuba who are under the thumb of the hurricane as I type, our life is a bowl of home-grown apples (just made two pots of sauce). Hey, maybe it's good thing I'm going off line - my metaphors are getting a little thick around the neck.

The Contrast is too Much for my Brain

Last night I went to bed with a wish for the seams of the book to break open, and reveal the crystalline form that needed to emerge. I wanted my dreams to guide me to the story that would enliven the discourse, a tale broken into juicy fragments that would make the reader eager to read the more academic pieces, thirsty to continue.

And it happened, the dreams worked their magic, like they have many nights, with paragraphs popping in and out of my waking state all night, but usually those same paragraphs get lost in the psychic jet stream before I awaken. This morning a new paragraph spilled out of my eyes, fingers and forehead, and it guided me, so fully that I was almost breathless in that first hour of writing.

I spent the day splitting open the dried up carcass of the old draft, and ripping off pieces, planting some of them shortened in other parts of the text, and into it all came the sweet ball of a girl, swirling with energy, and her folded-in shadow self who becomes more squished as time passes.

I don't know if this story will stay yet, even though the countdown to birthline is only a couple of days away. This is what pressure does to me.

As I returned to my desk after a lunch break, I saw a headline about the DNC and could not resist clicking on the button. There I learned that the police had trapped over 2000 peaceful demonstrators and that the batons, tear gas, and pepper spray were being used indiscriminately. I was horrified, and the chemicals that surged through my body seem to mimic their pain. I put on some Michael Hedges in an attempt to sooth myself and return to the sweet ball of a girl, but it was one of the hardest things I've done during this writing process. One of the hardest things.

"My American Prayer"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6BLKV7L8OU

This video was forwarded to me a few hours ago, and I imagine now it is making its way across the screens and speakers of computers all over the world. It is a powerful, moving piece - corny, too - but it will likely affect people by giving them an injection of hope. My 90 year-old mom said to me yesterday that she wishes I'd gotten a job in Canada...she is feeling depressed about the state of the world, as almost all critically thinking people are these days. I recognize that we are in for a helluva ride in the coming year. All plans are off for what will transpire with the coming election. If the Republicans steal this one, again, will the people rise up? If the Dems win, will the crazies in the hinterlands start a violent civil war? How are the various factions adding up the score these days? T, our neighbor, who comes twice a month to help us control the dust in our house, is paranoid. She tells me stories about the M13 and, I, in my ignorance, thought she was talking about a new automatic weapon. No, she said, it's a violent gang that is trying to take over the world. They are currently in deep conflict with the gangs in LA. M13 apparently originated with the Contras. I imagine it is being fed by all sorts of groups, the leaders of our coup d'etat (or rogue goverment, if you prefer, a gentler name for it) included. T said she won't leave the island anymore due to the proliferation of guns and violence. I wonder how much fear you need to swallow before you become emotionally and physically paralyzed in that way. I wonder how many of us privileged folks are walking around in a delirium, taking our meds (well, I take my vitamins, thank you), and blissfully unaware of the brutality under our noses.

I guess this wondering will have to wait a bit. I have the last bits of my book to wrap up...assuming anyone will be reading such things come the winter. Time seems to be shortening rapidly.

Watch the video. It will cheer you up, as long as you don't think a leader will save us...it's us who's got save us, by making the leader work for us.

A Query about Privacy and Blogging

It's been a while since I've written here because my second draft of my book is my main focus. Blogging just has to wait.

But tonight I am inspired to write here by reading other blogs. What's that about? It's not a competitive thing; it's just freeing, in a strange way. I've been meditating on the issue of privacy quite a bit in recent months. It's really hilarious that so many of us offer up the details of inner chatter, what all of our information being sucked into some great data vacuum cleaner, and then being spewed out and analyzed by secret service or what's that new organization called: the Fusion? Where they can decide you're an enemy of the state and then put you on all these lists, as if you've committed some heinous crime. And all you've done is show up at a protest. I dunno. I may have oversimplified this fascist innovation, but I doubt it.

So here we are with no privacy from the State, offering up more of the same to an even wider audience. Facebook, MySpace, Uber, Rethos, Open Salon...and on and on. What's that about? Is it about isolation, lack of community, a desire for connection? Or is it some strange form of narcissism? A desire for celebrity? Or an honest to goodness, accessible form of communication? Maybe for each individual it's a mixture. If anyone is actually reading this, please give me your thoughts. I am real curious.

Wolf Tracking in Idaho

According to the itinerary, Sam is sleeping somewhere under the stars 10 miles west of Bruce Meadows, Idaho with his wilderness awareness camp this evening.
http://www.wildernessawarenessschool.org/youth/teen_idaho_wolf_tracking.html

I really enjoyed meeting his counselors and fellow campers yesterday at the drop off point east of Seattle, despite the early hour (we had to take a 6:30 am ferry to get there in time). I like the diversity of demeanors in the group, and was excited for Sam. Hopefully he will enjoy aspects of the adventure, despite the discomforts. I will be eager to hear his stories when he returns.

One of his counselors recommended going to Google Earth to find the location of the base camp, so I downloaded the program and had a blast looking at photos of the area that are embedded in the maps. I've never been to that part of Idaho (only drove through Coeur D'Alene briefly 5 years ago, when we moved out here. So seeing the remote landscape that Sam will be hiking through was really a kick. If you haven't got Google Earth yet, I definitely recommend downloading. It's free and can give you many moments of pleasure. You can mark and visit every place you've ever lived with this tool, and see how the neighborhood has changed (somewhat). I did notice that the resolution for different parts of the world varies enormously. I'm not sure what the factors are that contribute to this discrepancy.

I visited a few of the cities we traveled to in June-July, and looked at other people's photos of touristic sites. I did not find them compelling, but I was intrigued by the ability to post photos and visit places that I've never been to: places that are frightening (war zones in particular) and places that I'm attracted to.

Other software I highly recommend is www.pandora.com. With the latter, you can create your own radio stations with your favorite music. It is also free, and once you type in the music you like, it creates the playlist and runs continuously. I have had a blast with this, and now have stations devoted to Stanley Clarke, Allan Holdsworth, The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, Pancho Sanchez, Tito Puente, John Coltrane, Jaco Pastorius, Diane Reeves, Chumbawumba, David Byrne, Manu Chao, Dar Williams, Joni Mitchell, Lila Downs, Suzanne Vega, Ellen McIlwaine, Bonnie Raitt, Koko Taylor, Hot Tuna, Laura Nyro, Marvin Gaye, Pat Metheny, Stewart Copeland, Mississippi John Hurt, Muddy Waters, Miles Davis, Michael Franti, Steve Winwood and Michael Hedges. It won't be long before I have a list of 50 artists.

Listening to acoustic guitar and fusion, helped me make some headway with my book's introduction today. Bob says I'm beginning to polish up the writing. I am grateful for that feedback because otherwise I would probably never move past page 5. And I have to get through 334 pages by the end of the month. Back to work.

Fessing Up

It's really quite funny, but every time someone asks me about how the trip was, I tell a slightly different story, or sometimes a very different story. Sometimes I emphasize the good things, and other times the bad stuff, and I wonder why my mood shifts so dramatically, or why the framing has to shift with each new audience. I imagine that this is fairly typical, although I haven't taken a formal poll. As I become more cognizant of this behavior and it has me smirking at myself.

Moving into present moment

Sam's at tennis camp this morning, and I am trying to crack the nut of my first draft, and delicately dice and splice it into the second draft. Maybe this blog will be the repository of all miserable and tired metaphors, and I will be able to spare the readers of my book some of the same. Onward....

Contrasts: Bucharest to Budapest

A medieval fortress on the banks of the Danube in Serbia



sits in direct contrast with this photo of a modern mall in Vukovar, Croatia, a town whose recent destruction is documented in some photos posted a few days ago.



The world we traveled through remains a puzzle. When I finish my second draft of my book at the end of August, I hope to crack open the book, Fool's Crusade: Yugoslavia, NATO and Western Delusions by Diana Johnstone. We shared a wonderful meal with the author in Paris, and I was quite taken with the history and theories she put forth. It might be useful to share the book with my students in my Art in a Time of War class.

Remnants of Folk Life

According to our guides and stories I have heard from others, the Soviet policy of systemization wiped out traditional village life all over the Balkans (by encouraging the inhabitants to move to the cities) and with this process many centuries of folk traditions disappeared except in the forms that the current cultural tourism allows. These were some of the tastes of folk culture that we had in Hungary: folk dancing and music, cowboys, traditional wall painting, and the wonderful world of the Mangalica pig (supposedly low in cholesterol, but especially if you don't eat her).






This is an example of the traditional folk wall painting in Hungary - found in a folk museum in Kalosc.

The Last Photos of the Danube Trip

I have gone through all the photos of the trip that I can find (some seem to have gotten inadvertently deleted, alas) and am going to post them in several big flurries. After uploading, it will be time to move on to the next chapter of the summer which involves digging deep into my manuscript and retrieving what's of value, and reshaping the whole. This task will devour the month, but I plan to spice it up with some dancing, music and hiking when domestic chores allow for all that activity. When I can, I'll take my laptop into the garden and pray for focus.

So below you find my cabin bed on the river boat and the tourists walking the plank onto the ship in Solt, Hungary.





Here's Sam enjoying music as the ship is reaching port in Budapest.

Parisian Viewpoints

When I saw this view from our hotel window, I was pleased in an odd way. It was not the romantic view of the city I was hoping for, but there was something deeply resonant about it and honest. Just how many windows have I seen in various cities with similar piles of disorder on view? The person(s) who created that pile of papers was inadvertently saying "bonjour, ca va? I am a very busy person, with other priorities." I wondered if this was a storage space in a private apartment, or a back office of a business. Creating stories with just a few props seems to be one of my specialties, or perhaps I've just been out in the woods for so long that I am easily entertained.

Below was the view from the top of the Notre Dame (no one will get me to climb that spiral staircase ever again).

Budapest's beauty and Thermal Baths

Our last night on the boat...before arriving in Budapest at dawn.



The morning we arrived in Budapest I was so excited that I got up a dawn to see us glide into the city. This image is iconic for the changes going on in Central Europe - lots of building, renovation and development - all in service to the global corporate economy. This photo was taken at dawn, just outside of Budapest.



I have so many photos of Budapest's beauty that I could fill a book with them. Here's just a taste.


This is the largest synagogue in Europe, right in Budapest. It's called the Doheni.



We bought a three-day transportation pass for Budapest and became quite skilled at cruising from street car to subway to bus. It was fun and much easier than I thought it would be.



This is a shot from the funicula just a block from our hotel that took us up to the Hungarian Museum on the hill.



Our first evening in Budapest we decided to walk back to the tour's hotel, and made this wonderful detour back and forth across this magical bridge, the Chain Bridge, one of many bridges that connects Buda to Pest.



Taken from St. Stephen's Basilica, this view of Budapest really conveys how FLAT the terrain is east of the river.



I fell in love with the roof tops.



Sometimes I felt like the quintessential postcard photographer.



Many of the rooftops are made out of ceramic tiles, and the patterns are just amazing. I don't remember the reason why they were designed this way - if a reader knows, please post it.





No trip to Budapest is complete without a visit to thermal baths, and we tried three of them. Below you can see the famous Gellert Hotel and Spa, in the early morning light (and undergoing massive renovations). We biked there one afternoon, and had a very cultural experience - the workers, as Rick Steves warned in his guide book, were curt and not too helpful, and the massage was totally a waste of time. Bob never realized that there was a co-ed section to the spa - and I had no way to get in touch with him (and a cell phone wouldn't have helped in this case).



It took me forever to learn how to pronounce Szechenyi Baths. We went there our last afternoon. Although we didn't hang out there very long, I would definitely return there for a more leisurely visit.

Storks are sacred

Whether in the Bulgarian countryside or in Vukovar, Croatia the locals never tamper with a stork nest. In fact, if a stork builds a nest over your chimney, it might be necessary for you to move (so that you can heat your house and cook). What would our local ecology be like if our values were more protective of the species who live among us?