Cleaning out the files...

here are a few pieces from my online storage, practicing my skills with blogger

The Thinking Heart

With respect to Ursula Gestefeld...

Flowers

Spent the spring taking pix of the abundant flora in the area, mostly to sample for mandalas.

Here's a few examples.

Works in progress...

My Lucky Number...

Found a copy of "Stateless" by Lene Lovich at the Beaverton library. It was actually my favorite album my senior year in H.School



It' always interesting to look back and see what kind of lyrics appealed to you at certain times in your life, and which themes cycle around again...














By Lene Lovich

Take me, make me, mould me fold me, shape my body You could improve me, rebuild anew me, heat up or cool me But don't forget to wake me in time You know I had a lot on my mind These tired old eyes await a surprise I wonder what the future will bring Second verse Fix me, mix me, rearrange me, change my body Make it so pretty, they can't resist me, queue up to kiss me But don't forget to wake me in time You know I got to be first in line This sensitive child is changing her style The ugly duck is starting to smile

Open up your eyes You Sleeping Beauties must arise You're shaping up just fine So climb inside a brand new life

This twilight seems like an eternity The changes I go through are hurting me Do we become what we deserve to be ?

Open up your eyes You Sleeping Beauties must arise You're shaping up just fine So climb inside a brand new life

Spring is here!

Yep, I let things slide for a while on the blog front, but I'm Back! Here we go...

La Forza

"La Forza"

The World through Blue Eyes

It's always interesting the way things come together, sometimes in ways you least expect. It's been an interesting month since the last time I made an entry here. I spent some time travelling ( I have now seen the desert- hot during the day, cold at night, and dry, dry, dry). I went through about three different climates to get there. A change of environment can do you a world of good, and travelling can give you new eyes to see where you are at. I thought that when I made my next entry here it would be about what i saw travelling around the state, but in fact, I gotr a curveball which showed me more about where I have been, where I am, and how things fit together.

Somewhere in the middle of all of the travelling my young cousin Josh took his own life. 20 years old, the same age as his uncle who did the same, back in 1957. I could go on about what a loving sweet kid he was (and honestly, he really was). But what would be the point? My family has had it's ups and downs over the years, and it seemed like the whole family had finally gotten past that tragedy back in the fifties.


Marv's suicide cast a very long shadow over the family; his generation and the one that followed. He died long before I was born, yet we always felt his presence- in the unspoken , the silent pauses when he was mentioned, the occaisonal comment from the adults. I hadn't seen Josh since he was little, but the pain and anguish of his passing affected us all in ways we would not have anticipated; if anyone had seen it coming, and no one did. His mother discovered him, just as she found her brother back in the fifties. It was a nightmare, an indescribable nightmare. I was on the phone with my sisters, my aunt, and other loved ones. My Mom actually went to the funeral, the first gathering of that clan to include her since the divorce- was that 1991? I don't even recall. I have never been this far from home when my family had a crisis, and I'm just now getting over the homesickness that overcame me that week. But even long distance, we came together in a way I never would have thought 20 years ago, when it seemed like all we shared was conflict. There is a lot more than blood which binds a family together, something I really needed to learn again.

I love my family, and I am grateful for every one of my brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, Mother and Father(s). I was raised, for better or worse, by my stepdad, and for all our years of conflict, we have reached the point where I have realized that all those years together bonded us together. My "dad" died twenty years ago this month ( tomorrow would have been his 71st birthday. I loved him, but he was rarely there for me. He loved me, but we never really had a chance to bond. I was nearly a year old when they got me, I have often wondered is this made a difference. I think it did have some effect, but then again, he just never seemed to know what to do. And when my Mom left with me, because she couldn't communicate with him, because she couldn't be with someone so emotionally unavailable, I think he just gave up. He just wasn't very good at expressing his feelings, or acting on them But there were always people there for me, doing the best they could. I am very lucky, I have a large family. So large they aren't even all related to one another. And they have set aside a lot of differences sometimes, and shown that a very diverse group of people can come together when the need is there. I always felt a lot of tension between my families, and it was never eay to figure out where I belonged in all of it. Physically I have never felt that my family was a close biological match, and I was aware of comments made about these differences. Too aware, and I allowed it to feed my own insecurities for too long. Mostly I have already resolved that within myself, I know who my family is and I know who I am.

I called my biological mother back in the nineties, wanting to know more about myself. It was a brief and not altogether pleasant conversation. I called again in 99, driven by a need for more concrete information, and we barely talked a few minutes, I was rebuffed. Last Sunday I called her again, thinking "3's a charm". To my surprise, this blue eyed woman opened up, and we had a long conversation, heartfelt and very healing. I haven't even begun to process the impact of this event (I have wanted to have this conversation for years), but it felt good. Nature of Nurture? There are many ways in which I am like my family, the ones who loved and raised me. Still I saw much of myself eerily reflected during this conversation with the woman who gave me life. In the interest of privacy, (hers and mine), I have very little to say beyond that, but it was a very healing moment- for both of us. I no longer have a sense that I am just a ghost from long ago, (which I did, though I don't think I ever put it that way before) Whether a ghost from her past, or the ghost with blue eyes being raised in a brown eyed family. Something very deep has been resolved, something I always felt but never really knew. Difficult to articulate, but important nonetheless. Maybe I'll write more later, but for now that's all I have to say.


Life is not about sorrow, and sometimes things work out. Maybe they always work out for the best. All of a sudden my bright blue eyes don't seem to matter as much in a family with brown eyes. And any deep and lingering doubts I may have had about where I fit in the scheme of things have melted away. I belong where I choose to belong, and I love because I am loved. And I have great choices; funny how I never noticed that before. I have now.

The heart is an amazing organ, it pumps the blood which may people think of as the source of the bond between family members. But really, the heart does much more than that, it is a long held symbol of love, the love that brings us all together. And wherever people come together in a deep, enduring, and loving way, there is family. And I am deeply grateful for mine.

And Josh, rest in peace. I wish you could have found another way, we'll miss you. Whatever demons you carried, we will do better. Somehow you weren't able to feel the love we had for you in your darkest moment. The love we found in your passing was there all along, and I'm sorry you missed that. I for one, won't forget, and intend to do my very best to make sure the next generation doesn't forget either. Maybe that was your final gift to us. As the grieving lessens, I think this is what we'll find, the gift of love. and the truth of what bonds us together. Something which is always there. And will always be there, if we choose to see. Blue eyes or brown eyes, we only need to open our hearts to see the truth.

ch-ch-ch-ch-changes....

I'm moving this week, and I probably won't have time for an update till next week. I feel really good about this move, it was a long stretch at the old place, and honestly, I won't miss it a bit.
Looking forward to a fresh start.

LaoSue handled the train pretty well, gotta love light rail... She was, however tranquilized ( I had two left over from the plane trip to Oregon). Atlas slept through the train ride, but LaoSue was afraid she might miss something. A guy on the train took this pic and sent it to me.

a few more mandalas...

It was 104 degrees in Portland yesterday, pretty warm today, too. Hot, hot, hot, but still not as bad as KC in the summertime.

I thought I'd post a few more of the mandala's I've made in the last year or so...

I don't always follow tradition, but they are all meditations. Some more personal than others-they have meaning beyond that which the casual viewer would pick up, but still, each viewer will find their own meaning.

The process which by which I produce them is a meditation, and sometimes I approach them like keltic knots, tracing them with my eyes.






but mostly I just like to look at them,

or make another ...

and another...

one more...

Mandala

I make mandala's when I get the time, and when I feel like it. here's one from about two years ago...


and another...



I actually have hundreds of these going back nearly 20 years. The oldest are on paper, but I have really gotten a great deal out of using computer programs (these were done in photoshop), and most of them have been done in the last five years. Obviously, I'm not a purist. It's still a meditation, and I really enjoy the process. As I go through them, I may post a few from time to time...

a few interesting links, with resources

Exploring Mandala's

the Mandala Project- Peace through Art and Education

The Mandala Project

Wikipedia's entry- with interesting links

Mandala at Wikipedia

Shockwave Riding...

I love the public transit system here in PDX, such a refreshing change after all those years in KC, which sadly lacks any kind of sensible public transit at all- especially sad when you consider how spread out that city is, and how desperately it needs public transit- I love the trains especially, and I have been reading quite a bit more during my commutes (books on tape in a car just aren't the same). I'll be sharing my thoughts on some of these books in coming entries.

Many consider William Gibson's works such as Neuromancer to be the origins of the cyberpunk genre, but I have to say I think this honor may belong to John Brunner's Shockwave Rider, published in 1975. A world with a society linked by a worldwide system of networked computers (long before Al Gore invented the internet), an antihero worthy of any cyberpunk novel, a worldwide economy based on credit and data, people changing identity's at the drop of a hat (or stroke of a key)years before Madonna made an art of it- this book is a must read. The cyberpunk novels have all been written since the computer revolution of the 80's and 90's, which is one of the things which make this book so amazing. Brunner, heavily influenced by Alvin Toffler's Future Shock was amazingly prescient in his description of a world where the apocolypse came not in the form of nuclear annihilation, or dystopian military oppression, but from a post data overload world where people have lost the essence of their freedom simply because they became distracted and gave it away- to corporations and the government, which seem intertwined in Brunners world. I also found the his innovative writing style in this work has held up well. A few changes here and there, and it would make a great movie- maybe if A Scanner Darkly does well enough this summer, someone out there will run across it and see it's potential. It's certainly timely enough.

Invisible friends....

I have to admit that when i was younger I watched every single episode of 60's sci-fi cheesefest Lost In Space. And I recently wrote an episode review of my favorite episodes of that series at the Internet Movie Database.

I've never really told anyone why I got so hooked on Star Trek in the first place, that show being my initiation into the world of sci-fi. Truth be told, a few years after my parents broke up, I saw my first episode of Trek, and I thought William Shatner looked kind of like my dad. Not a ringer, but kind of in a way. Close enough for a seven year old who missed his dad, anyway. I don't even know which episode it was. I don't remember the first time I saw the episode of Lost in Space which stuck with me all these years, but I know I watched it every chance I could (I even have a copy on tape somewhere). It was called "My Friend, Mr. Nobody, and it touched me just as deeply, Lost in Space or not. In the first season they tried to be a serious drama, before they morphed into the camp classic everyone remembers.



My favorite character was Penny Robinson, and this epsiode focused on her and her invisible friend, who in fact is a non-corporeal alien life form, trapped in the center of a planet for millions of years, completely alone. The story is actually very well written, the acting strong, and minimal need for special effects decrease the cheese factor to the point where, standing alone in an anthology series like Twilight Zone or Outer Limits, it would be more well known as the classic it is. The score for this episode is lovely, even mystical, and it adds to the sense-of-wonder which makes this such a magical episode. Angela Cartright's performance as Penny is outstanding, ( she was already a seasoned vet at the time of this series), more than able to carry the episode focused on her character. The episode at it's core is an exploration of loneliness, in specific a lonely child and her search for comfort and companionship. And about the bond that can develop when loneliness is shared with another- a friend in a most unexpected form (or lack of form, in this case). It definitely spoke to me, and from time to time I still take it out and watch it. The strength of Penny's character in this episode is her openness, her willingness to believe in what is good, her willingness to love. Which is, after all, the only real remedy for loneliness.





I still find it cheers me up, and I have discovered that it is fondly remembered by others, as well- Google the episode and surf around, you'll find fan pages and other stuff out there. And if you spot this episode at the local movie store, (it's available on DVD, and I saw it at Movie Madness here in PDX) give it a shot. It might not be what you would ordinarily pick, but think about a lonely moment in your life, and see if it touches you.


here's a link to my review at IMDB

My Friend Mr. Nobody at IMDB

Loaded Words I : Notes on "Bitch"

I reached an overseas call center yesterday, and I spoke to a woman with an almost incomprehensibly thick accent. She interpreted everything I said literally, and seemed to have little or no comprehension of what the conversation was about. I was increasingly irritated, not so much by her struggle to convert our conversation in her head to her native tongue and back, but by her attitude, which was rude, and rather condescending. I could hear my hillbilly ancestors going off in my head- "Dammed Furriners"! After recovering from the shame of the white guilt moment that inspired, and further hassles because she still couldn't understand the (pitifully simple) order I was trying to place, I told her never mind, cancel it, for which I was rewarded with an immediate disconnection, no sorry, sir, no attempt to get a supervisor to help her with the order,no goodbye, nothing, just "click" . "What a bitch", I thought. I sat and thought about what I could learn from this. How much interpersonal intercultural conflict grows out of the assumption that race, culture, creed or lifestyle or other aggregate label is the causative factor in the conflict, when the issue really is that someone is just being a bitch?

Getting past the use of the word in animal husbandry (bitch as a female member of the canine species), the Oxford Dictionary has this entry on the word, generally attributed to old english via old norse.
a. Applied opprobriously to a woman; strictly, a lewd or sensual woman. Not now in decent use but formerly common in literature. In mod. use, esp. a malicious or treacherous woman; of things: something outstandingly difficult or unpleasant. (See also son of a bitch.)

This is of course, the official definition, but it has gone in so many directions in the colloquial that I think it bears a bit more of an in-depth examination., So, YO Bitches! Let's check it OUT!

I can be a total bitch sometimes, and certainly have been from time to time. Although men are usually referred to as assholes when they act like a bitch, I think there are subtle differences. Being an asshole implies a certain thoughtless brutishness, whereas a bitch knows how to plan. E.G. That manipulative little bitch!. To relegate this word's expression to the female gender seems to me rather sexist and frankly inaccurate. Anyone can scheme, and many do. There are numerous online references to the use of the word in gay slang, especially in the parlez of Drag Queens- "That bitch over by the bar won't even look at me". And women have reclaimed the word B*I*T*C*H*. Being In Total Charge of Herself- see the Bitch Manifesto in the links section. And it there are even those who have elevated the word to spirtual use- check out

the Bitch from Hell

for more on that.


And then there's the use as a greeting via urban vernacular "Wassup, bitch", or its uses as a term of sexual relationship as in I gots to go pick up my bitch for the party, or biker slang such as riding bitch, to take the back seat on ones bike, implying a certain submission to the person up front.

To be a bitch is not the same, however as bitching, or acting like a bitch. "That supervisor is such a bitch" is not quite the same as "she was being such a bitch today".

When it comes to men, you will hear "what an asshole" applied to that anal retentive, opinionated hard-ass who has chosen not to communicate or reason through a problem or issue, and although he probably really needs to be bitch-slapped, he may not actually be a bitch. An asshole is usually out-of-control, whereas a scheming, manipulative bitch can't ever seem to let go of control. There is perhaps some cosmic irony in the fact that both really need to loosen up. A man who continually disrupts his estranged wife's job by refusing to pick up their child when she has to go to work is certainly an asshole. Refusing to pay child support to try to force her to move back in is either being an abusive asshole or a bitch, and probably both. What makes him a bitch is the scheme, the plot, the plan to control another through verbal manipulation (gossip), financial manipulation (deadbeat dad), or other forms of denigration and humiliation. An asshole frequently turns into a bitch when he's been defeated in the unsympathetic courts, or by social connections and groups of people who have seen through his shit. And a bitch in the workplace usually uses gossip and manipulation to further her/his own agenda (and cover their own shortcomings).This is especially obnoxious in the case of the office flirt who never does anything right, but bats their lashes and sticks out their ass when confronted, or the politicking management suck-up using targeted gossip to raise multple issues so that it becomes increasingly difficult to see what the issue is (e.g. they don't merit the promotion desired, or they lack confidence in the skills they may have). This is the "See how awful they are- Don't I look good now, and what would you do without me?" game. If bitching were a job qualification, they'd have it made. This scheming bitch will even take credit for the work of others, hiding their subterfuge with an attitude of superiority ("I'm just concerned with what's best for everyone").

Bitch is just a word. It expresses the feelings of the user, and if interpreted correctly by the listener, it can be a great word for making an assessment of a situation. It can be a compliment ("That Bitch is Fierce"), a warning ("Don't be such a bitch, it's exactly what he wants"), or an insult ("Fuck You, Bitch"). Perhaps more often than not, it sets off emotional responses in the listener which can really make the situation worse, which is a total bitch. "Bitchin" can be an expression of irritation ("Will you quit bitchin' about it and get off your ass"), or something totally awesome, ("Bitchin ride, dude").

A good bitch responds to the situation they find themself in, and a bad bitch reacts to theirs. Whether we keep our power or give it away depends on us, I think, which leads me to this conclusion- being a bitch is a choice, as is whether or not we have a bitchin' day, or go home and bitch about our day till we go to bed and start it all over again the next. We can view our neighbor or co-worker as a bitch, or we can see how strongly we are holding on to an opinion, or trying to control a situation. It's a real bitch (difficult situation) to figure it all out sometimes, but I guess we are all doing the best we can. I can only choose for myself, and if necessary, choose to do better next time.

Etymology of the word "Bitch"

Ummm....What?

A simpler explanation of my post below about panentheism. Anyone who knows me can attest that the fact that my sitting twice a day with my mouth shut for 20 minutes at a time is a miracle. So, by keeping your mouth shut for 20 minutes a day, maybe you can find a miracle of your own. And you can define miracle for yourself...

Speaking of miracles, I think most of the links work now, too...

Riding the Waves, One Summer at a Time

The warm weather earlier this week reminded me a many a warm summer night back in the midwest, many years ago when I was in many ways a different person than who I am now. I wasn't a very happy teenager, not really in touch with my feelings for the most part. I worked summers in a Drive-In Movie theatre (remember those), and spent a great deal of time avoiding making any plans for the future and just hoping to get through day by day. Music was in many ways the most important thing in my world, it was what made me happier than anything. I really was moved by the New Wave, which seemed to be happening everywhere but in Kansas. There were artists like Lene Lovich, Thomas Dolby, the Tourists, Magazine, all of whom gave me a feeling I had never felt before. Pearl Harbour and the Explosions, Holly and the Italians, post-punk bands like the Clash, the Talking Heads, the list goes on and on. I was shellshocked and numb a great deal of the time, and pretty directionless, but when I listened to these bands, I felt alive. If there was one band that really made me feel awake and alive, it had to be Blondie, who were very deservingly inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall oi Fame this year. New Wave and it's acts weren't really recognized for thier contribution at the time, especially in the midwest, where REO Speedwagon type bands dominated the culture, it was considered a passing fad, or whatever. As the retro 80's stations have taken off in the last few years, it delights me that most of the music played is new wave or new wave influenced pop, much of which was never given airplay on the radio at the time, while I haven't heard an REO Speedwagon song in years. Quentin Crisp said in The Naked Civil Servant that "In an expanding universe, time is on the side of the outcast. Those who once inhabited the suburbs of human contempt find that without changing their address they eventually live in the metropolis".

So it is, I think, with the music and culture of what was then called "the New Wave", and in many ways, so it has been and is with my life. THANK GOD! ( or Jesus, Buddha, Mary, Kwan Yin, Morgan La Fey, Elvis, Rama-lama-ding-dong, pick one)


If there was one group that moved me deeply, and one icon that truly made me feel hopeful and alive, the group was Blondie, and the icon was the lead singer, the incomparable Deborah Harry

Beautiful and timeless, she opened the door for many people, with style, a certain grace all her own, and a great sense of humour...
Blondie didn't get much respect from the rock-n-roll press at the time (Heart of Glass was a DISCO song, oooh, tres uncool...)but they've definitely withstood the test of time. And two summers ago I was privileged enough to see them live- and better than ever. There is a warmth in her stage presence that few can match, and a sense of fun that we all could use more of these days.

So, here's to warm summer evenings, good music, good friends, and the awareness that time is on the side of the outcasts, the freaks, geeks and those who just don't feel connected to the world they find themselves in, and yet still have the ability to see beyond it to what can be. It takes a little time to realize it, but those of us who have been there know, you are much better better off. Thoreau said it best when he stated " Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them". The world is still full of songs, and thanks to the lessons I learned from the influence of all those who speak their own truth, so am I. Thanks for the inspiration...

How's the Weather? (you may now leave comments)

It was 102 degrees in Portland Monday, and I discovered I still have my KC hot weather physiology- I didn't seem to suffer as much as the locals. They always say, It's not the heat, it's the humidity. Yesterday was pretty warm as well, and the Max trains had multiple failures- my 40 minute trip to Hillsboro had a return trip of three hours. The day I forgot to take a book to read with me. Oh, well.

By the way, I changed the settings so that ANYONE can now leave comments, so fire away, I love me some comments....

PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES! (Terror della Spazio)

Planet of the Vampires






I recently obtained a dvd of this visually striking 60’s film by Mario Bava (Black Sabbath, Black Sunday) , Planet of the Vampires. In many way’s it’s typical sixties sci fi, including some horrendous b-movie technobabble ("We land in 60 fractions of a megon.") which puts post next generation trek and 70's Battlestar Galactica to shame. The film does illuminate the Bava touch in it’s striking visuals, much of which came about to compensate for it’s tiny budget. With a color scheme rivaling his work on “Hercules and the Haunted World”, and a genuinely creepy storyline, this is a must see picture for fans of sixties sci and Italian cinema.

There is plenty out there on the net about the similarities to Ridley Scott’s “Alien” (1979), particularly the scene where the crew discovers the alien vessel. In addition, it also takes it’s time to get there, slowly building up a sense of hard-to define threat much like Scott’s film. Atmospheric doesn’t even begin to describe the swirling, foggy visuals of the alien planet, designed to conceal the low budget, but creating a constant sense of uncertainty which serves to build the tension. It’s much more truly a “haunted house in space” film than Scott’s film, creating a genre all it’s own, where the gothic meets the alien in an out-of focus kaleidoscope of terror. As much as has been written about the influences on films like Alien, 2001, and Lifeforce, so I haven’t much to add to that. I did however recall a scene from another classic scifi ephemera, the Star Trek: The Animated Series, which is fitting, since the whole movie plays like a darker, more baroque version of classic trek.

The episode in question is the first of the early seventies animated Star Trek, the first incarnation after the original series unfortunate demise, often overlooked, and until recently quite hard to find (they are all now available on DVD- try amazon). “Beyond the Farthest Star”, the maiden voyage of TAS (as it is often referred to by fans) find the intrepid crew of the Enterprise coming upon a derelict vessel of a unique and completely unfamiliar design. The scenes where they come upon the alien captain’s log are strikingly similar in feel, the exploration of the ship (which is truly alien- the animated format really opened up the possibilities for alien design) recall the exploration of the alien derelict in POV. And the theme of the episode is much closer in spirit (bad pun) to the storyline of POV than Alien.

The Alien Captain's ...



The Italian title, Terror From Space is really a lot more fitting as there are no vampires in the movie, but the plot, although now familiar (see any number of Trek plots from all of the series, especially the latter seasons of DS9), and a variety of other films an tv series (Outer Limits, et al) was rather unique in 1965. Definitely worth a look, and maybe due for a good remake, if the right people got a hold of it.




More on the filming of the effects…

Planet of the Vampires!