joe's blog

torsohead

2007-07-04T09:39:00.000-07:00

the doodysong is up on youtube!

2007-01-10T21:57:00.000-08:00

here's the doodysong from youtube. the quality is kinda low due to file conversion and compression, but you can check out the original flash animation here - http://www.joestanford.net/doodysong.html

a time for new beginnings I think

2007-01-02T19:42:00.000-08:00

january second already. today is sam's 14th and tomorrow will be my 43rd and a half. the past couple months have flown by in a flurry of hourly craigslist checks and apartment viewings and rental application out-fillings. everything else has been backburnered while I pursued the perfect - or really just an acceptable... well really just about any - apartment at all. I sampled a variety for awhile, but held to the west of lincoln requirement - but other than that I was pretty open. things are tight these days in venice-proper and the search wasn't easy. most people are trapped by the quickly risen prices over the past couple years, and can't afford to leave their rent-controlled apartments. very few studios and one bedrooms have been available and when they are they are pretty highly in demand. well, the studios in the apartment buildings down by the beach are usually available, but they're pretty small and not too appealing and I'm maybe a bit old for "right-by-the-beach these days. but not many other studios and the one bedrooms can be pretty pricey, so luckily for me, susan decided to move back from hawaii - and to make what is kind of a long story, short: we've got a place. but we have to wait until it opens up, so it looks like I'll be staying in sailene and jon's guesthouse for another month, which is pretty nice, and I'm awfully lucky to have it, and am determined to get my life started back up, despite my ongoing period of transition.

that said, I think I'm gonna put the art shows off until february, because I'm not ready with everything... I mean the paintings are pretty much done - definitely the big ones are - if you haven't seen them scroll down or check out the website - www.joestanford.net you know - but I need to finish up the little paintings and do some drawing and writing and concluding, and I just haven't been getting to it... so there's that. now that the apartment search is over and even though I'm still unsettled, I think I'll be able to get back into the swing of things again... it is the new year and all... a time for new beginnings I think.

saddam hussein

2006-12-29T22:30:00.000-08:00

I'm not saying that saddam hussein was not a horrible despotic leader, but the arrogance and self-righteousness implicit in any capital punishment appalls me. I was just out for dinner and caught a bit of the coverage on the tv and then came home and read bush's smug and callous comments online... killing this man, no matter how heinous his crimes, will accomplish no good... I yearn for the day when those in power and adults in general realize the truth in the childhood lesson that two wrongs don't make a right. this is a sad day for humanity... and it's been a sad year and an embarrassing decade for the united states and the world at large. here's to a better future and a more peaceful and empathetic new year.

I'm done... well, sorta

2006-09-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

The Death of Cain

I've still got the small ones to do, and some writing and drawing that I'll probably put off until I get back to venice. but the small ones and the update to the website I'll try to get done before I leave in about two and a half weeks (oct 14th is the plan).

one more to go & my jeep

2006-09-25T14:10:00.000-07:00

Cain and Abel #6

I hope to be finished with the big paintings tomorrow. I'll still be playing around with the small ones for awhile, but they should come together without quite as much effort (I think). I'm happy with my new car, although having gotten used to not having a vehicle, it's a bit daunting to suddenly have one - don't quite know what to do with it... maybe it's not that sudden, I've known I'd buy one for the trip back west for months, but it still feels a bit uncomfortable to have it. when I bought it I was sure it was blue - but it's kinda purplish when the light catches it in a certain way... I guess that's alright, but I kinda lean more towards neutrals when it comes to cars (unlike with the paintings, you know).

two more to go

2006-09-24T17:54:00.000-07:00

The Death of Patroclus

Mother Mourning for Murdered Son

The Death of Ajax

2006-09-20T13:06:00.000-07:00

Neck Stab

2006-09-20T06:11:00.000-07:00

The Prisoner's Execution

2006-09-18T15:56:00.000-07:00

Dying Warrior

2006-09-17T18:34:00.000-07:00

Peter, Jesus, Malchus

Self-Defense Kills Intruder

Self-Righteous Anger Wreaks Violence

2006-09-13T18:11:00.000-07:00

Desert Death - Blood Oasis

Buhriz and My Lai

2006-09-12T18:22:00.000-07:00

Buhriz

My Lai

2006-09-11T07:14:00.000-07:00

Violent Death, Far from Friends

Waterboarding

2006-09-08T15:31:00.000-07:00

Gitmo #2

Gitmo #1

Constantine

Roland Pledging Fealty to Charlemagne

I started work on the first Guantanamo painting (above) the other morning, before reading the news that the army had just released its new manual banning the use of dogs during interrogation - so that seemed timely... hoods I believe are also out, but I'm not sure about the ear muffs and blinding goggles. later in another article, our president reminded us that we americans don't use torture, but went on to explain (during an interview with cbs news) that the interrogation in the recently revealed cia prisons had ceased, "because CIA officials feel like the rules are so vague that they cannot interrogate without being tried as war criminals."

hmmmm. right.

2006-09-03T19:29:00.000-07:00

Joan of Arc #2

Joan of Arc #1

sorry about the flash reflection, I'll have to reshoot these eventually - but these are the friday and saturday paintings. I took today off of from painting to run errands and plan. back to painting tomorrow.

2006-08-31T18:51:00.000-07:00

The Battle of Agincourt

it took two days to finish this side too. the battle of agincourt was kinda interesting as far as battles go - long bows, defensive spikes, treacherous mud, dysentery and diarrhea - the english were victorious because of the first three and despite the last two. more on that later maybe, just thinkin' about it makes me need a bathroom break. gotta go.

2006-08-29T16:50:00.000-07:00

Krishna and Arjuna

I spent two days on this one. got a late start yesterday and then it took me awhile to get going. couldn't decide what to paint and then had a tough time transitioning to the size of the canvas. the earlier ones were all pretty much the same size (about 35x45") and this one is significantly bigger (53x66"). I like working on the larger format, and once I got going on it, it came together well, but I don't think I'll do too many this size - mostly because of transport and storage problems. tomorrow though, I think I'll paint the battle of agincourt on the back.

2006-08-27T17:14:00.000-07:00

Abraham and Isaac

Cain and Abel #5

These are the first two after finishing up the first batch. I'm pleased with the direction they're heading. I'm feeling pretty well warmed up and hope the rest go as well as these did. these are two sides of the same canvas. it's about 37x41" which is a little taller than the previous canvases, but less wide.

I took this morning off and went bowling with bruce, kate, and geoff costa. it was a lot of fun and didn't seem to negatively impact the painting at all (on the contrary..., actually). it was the first time I've gotten around to seeing geoff since I got here and it was good to see him. and as always, it's fun to hang out with bruce and kate.

2006-08-25T14:25:00.000-07:00

Reign of Terror

Genghis Khan

Venus and Violence

Dead Woman

Alexander

Crusader and Saracen

These are the last of the first 42 paintings - 21 canvases painted front and back, roughly 36x48" each. I'm just past the halfway point in my stay here. I arrived June 23rd and plan to leave no later than the middle of October. The time has flown by so far, but I admit that realizing I still have almost the same amount of time ahead of me makes my return to venice seem a long way off. I'm sure I'll be back before any of us know it.

I'm not certain what these coming paintings will hold. I feel pretty well warmed up and ready to go with more paintings. at least some and probably most will stay with the violence themes, but I think I'll leave myself open to allowing for other themes to appear if they will. it'll be interesting to see (for me anyway) what happens. check out the website to see the complete group so far.

2006-08-19T16:30:00.000-07:00

Hermes and Argus

Refugees 1

Refugees 2

Jacob and Esau

Nick Berg 2

Assassination of Julius Caesar

Cain and Abel 4

These are this past weeks paintings. I've pretty much taken today off - had brunch at monica and jeff's and have been catching up on other stuff this afternoon. I've painted a bit, but am not really in the mind frame to make a go at the next painting; maybe tonight, but probably tomorrow. I've got an interesting start on the next one, but I'm not certain where to go, can't quite bring myself to dive in... we'll see.

I'd like to update the website with this new stuff tonight, but I'm not sure I feel motivated to do that either - it's awfully hot up here on the third floor. saturday night - hmmm, maybe I'll go downstairs for a beer.

2006-08-12T17:14:00.000-07:00

Lincoln Assassination

Pandora, Killed by Violence

Here are yesterday and today's paintings. yesterday was the second pandora painting and today was Lincoln's assassination. Tomorrow I'll work on the back of the Nick Berg painting. I don't really have the energy to write more now.

2006-08-11T07:41:00.000-07:00

this is a painting of the battle of hastings. I painted it yesterday. I finished the fronts of the first twenty-one canvases a week ago and have been painting the backs since then. I'm coming pretty close to averaging a painting a day, having taken the weekend off to have breakfast and run errands with monica on saturday, and to spend time with my brother and his family, who had driven down from Lima on sunday.

today, my parents are coming down for a visit, I don't think I'll take the whole day off, because they're just coming for lunch, but we'll see how it goes. it's kinda tough to get going when the routine's been broken.

rock throwers

inquisition

dead child - fallujah

resistance fighters

voinovich and violence

2006-07-23T20:07:00.000-07:00

The Raising Cain paintings are starting to come together. I've been working on them for almost a month now and have twenty or so started. I've just posted photos of them as they are now click here to check them out (you'll have to scroll down).

I'm discovering as I get further into this project that try as I might to give violence it's fair shake, I seem to be continually confronted with the conviction that there is really never a productive use for the thing. We have world leaders who seem to take it for granted that violent action is a legitimate strategy and that success can be achieved by responding to violence with greater violence. They honestly seem to believe that violence will achieve desired results (and ludicrously, even peace). I've searched and searched and failed to find instances when that has really been the case. There have always been other options visible to those able to see through the propaganda.

The current situation in Lebanon (not to mention Iraq and afghanistan of course) serves as a prime example for how violence simply adds to and exacerbates the problem. This seems so monumentally obvious that I'm dumbstruck by the insistence of national leaders and decision-makers to continue falling into this same delusion over and over despite millennia of examples to the contrary.

In addition to this, a train of thought that I keep returning to is that we are infected by a paradigm level belief in the existence of evil. This taken-for-granted premise to our actions allows us to categorize our adversaries as "evil" which serves to afford us the seemingly legitimate option of ignoring their point of view. at the root of violence is misunderstanding and a lack of empathy, which is of course fostered by our belief that evil exists and is guiding the actions of others - others who of course view us in a reflective way. Remember that rather than look for a reason behind terrorist attacks, our leaders chose to simply label the terrorists as "evil-doers" and respond in kind. The "evil-doers" in return toss around phrases like "the great satan" and our politicians are surprised that the violence continues to escalate "despite our nation's best efforts" as george voinovich stated the other day. how can this man really view the actions of the untied states during the past five years as "best efforts"? and how can he miss the fact that our actions are the cause, not the solution? I'm more convinced than ever that evil simply does not exist... confusion, ignorance, misunderstanding, yes - but evil? no.

Violence does however exists in our society - not to the extent relative to non-violence that it would seem it does if we simply watch the news and read the paper, but nevertheless to a greater extent than it needs to. Violence is never necessary and is always correctible - but not with more violence - only through listening, understanding and agreement. examples of diplomacy being used to counter violence are the British negotiating with the IRA and the Spanish with ETA, as pointed out by Brian Michael Jenkins, a terrorism expert at the Rand Corp. in Arlington, Virginia and reported by Howard LaFranchi of The Christian Science Monitor the other day.

And yet condi rice isn't even going to talk with hizbollah leaders during her "diplomatic" trip.

In the meantime, there really are other issues of greater importance and urgency facing us than violence, but none so readily correctible by a shift in viewpoint... maybe the next group of paintings though should try to examine our environmental crisis, world hunger and poverty, or our educational system... we'll see.

zoo with monica and celeste

2006-07-09T15:41:00.000-07:00

the paintings have been kickin' my ass a bit this week, I'm tryin' to narrow the focus of the theme, realizing that simply doing a series exploring violence is a bit too broad a topic. I've spent a fair amount of time researching and organizing with the intent of developing some sort of clarification - but it's been hard work... or maybe not hard, so much as slow going. I'd much rather just jump into the painting, but without a defined goal, I find myself a little aimless with the work. on the other hand, the several canvasses that I have been working on are coming together nicely and i'm pleased with the results (I'll link to them from here when I get them up on the website), but for my own peace of mind, I need to figure out where I'm going with them before I get too much further along.

today was a welcome and much needed break from the work. went to breakfast at frisch's big boy with monica and celeste and from there went to the zoo. here are some photos.

northside parade

2006-07-04T19:16:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, July 4th

got up and painted, first thing this morning. went downstairs around noon to watch the parade. bruce, Jason and the rest were down on the street. the crowd was gathering. I’d brought my camera and so I wandered around a bit looking for things to shoot, but pretty quickly wound back up in front of the bakery and settled in at a good spot where I could unobstructedly see the action.

the parade was great. it’s a long way from the semana santa processions in Antigua, this was definitely a usa style parade. I remember people in Guatemala asking me if we had parades in the US, I tried to describe july 4th parades and I remember not having a lot of luck explaining them – I even tried to describe the macy’s thanksgiving parade, but that was even harder… but I tried.

The thing about a good ol' american 4th of july parade is that it gives everybody in a community a chance to publicly voice their minds and proclaim a cause or belief that is important to them. the northside parade today seemed to have representatives from all aspects of this neighborhood, and watching it gave me a feeling of closeness to this place and helped me feel like I understand the people who live here a little more now than I did yesterday.

sometimes I feel like Cincinnati is even more foreign to me than Guatemala was, but it’s an oddly familiar kind of foreignness… a sort of deja vuish you-can-never-go-home-again kind of alienation. monica’s been my tourguide to the suburbs, and bruce has been taking care of me as the good friend he is… but I do feel like a fish out of water, or a foreign correspondent that, try as he might, just doesn’t quite get the local culture. at least I’m more adept at the language here than I was in guatemala.

The parade was fun and I met a few more of bruce’s friends, and everybody here is awfully nice and welcoming to me. I’ve spent the afternoon painting my pictures, and prepping these photos – I’ll put some of them below. I’m pretty happy with my new camera, and glad I had a chance to practice with it today... and the paintings are coming along, although it's always a little rough going at first, you know... I'll figure it all out though - never fear!

fireworks are exploding outside as I write this, maybe I’ll go watch!

Monday July 3rd

2006-07-03T17:09:00.000-07:00

Monday, July 3rd

today’s my birthday. happy birthday to me! not much of a birthday really, pretty much like any other day, and that’s not bad… my days are pretty good as days go, you know. I don’t think anybody in Cincinnati knows it’s my birthday, so that facilitates keeping a low profile.

bytheway, for anybody that doesn’t know, I’m in Cincinnati. I got here a week or ten days – I guess – ago. I got back to Venice from Guatemala on june 2nd, spent three weeks there and then took the train from there to here. it was great to be back in Venice, it was very good to spend time with my friends and the ocean. stayed the first half of my visit with michelle, and the second half with aliza. saw quite a bit of tim, and managed to get down to the beach for a swim almost everyday.

I probably stayed a little longer in Venice than I should’ve, I got pretty used to it and it felt good. one part of me really didn’t want to leave, but I had committed myself to going away and working on these new paintings, so I stuck to that resolve. it was hard to leave though… but good to be here – although it’s awfully hot and I’ve got a lot of work in front of me.

the train ride was good. sleeping in the coach section wasn’t as comfortable as it could’ve been, but after the first night I had figured out a few tricks that made the following two nights go pretty well. daytimes, I spent in the lounge car and met an interesting variety of people, unlike those I usually encounter… suburban, I suppose.

I ought to be writing about the raising cain project, but I’ll do that later, I’ll keep this brief – it’s been mentioned that perhaps some of the earlier entries were a bit wordy, so I’ll aim for brevity for awhile, but I will add some photos from the train trip here.

2006-05-29T10:40:00.000-07:00

lunes, 29 de mayo

tying things up here in xela. I plan to leave on the 11:30am bus tomorrow for guatemala city, that should get me there late afternoonish. I'll spend wednesday doing last minute guatemala stuff and then thursday make my way to the airport - I think bus #83 south along avenida 10a does the trick, but I'll double check. I'll be in venice friday all day (get in after midnight thursday, michelle's picking me up, thanks again michelle).

bytheway, I posted an update to my website a couple days ago. check it out here.

2006-05-22T11:26:00.000-07:00

lunes, 22 de mayo,

still in xela, and I really like it here. this is the perfect place for riding out the end of my trip, it’s better than I could’ve hoped. it’s a perfect sized town / city, it’s easy to get around and has wonderful places to hang out in – good cafés, restaurants and a great central plaza. there is an internet place across the street, so I don’t have to walk far with my laptop, not that it seems like there’s any threat of crime that I’ve noticed. I think I’ll stick around here through next weekend and then head back to Guatemala city for the last few days before I leave – maybe I’ll swing through Antigua, but it seems likely I’ll probably blow it off in favor of the capital.

I’ve been getting quite a bit of work done here. I’ve transcribed an odd collection of travel notes, I’ll include them here, more for my own sake than because I imagine they’ll be of much interest, or have much significance to anybody but me… but if I put them here, they’re safe from getting lost, the internet is a good place to back things up, you know. maybe a little more interesting… or at least maybe a bit more entertaining are a handful of incomplete nursery rhymes that I began when I was still in Antigua, but then got distracted from and forgot about until I went back through my paper scraps.

here are some photos, I haven’t been taking a lot since I’ve been here, partly because I keep forgetting to bring my camera with me, partly because it’s been raining a lot, but anyway, I’ll put what I’ve got here and then follow them with the transcriptions.

______________________________________________

violence-history of ethics - looking into the future

love-considering the existence of love

the environment/ecology-and management of the planet

economy-new economy-favors-creative non- consuming. do for the sake of doing/giving

for the environment do abstracted landscapes – sidewalks

there seems like there was a 4th thing … religion? politics?

birth-violence (?)

most of the images of violence are masculine-consider feminine violence

gentle rain
several walks
south of park – photo
north of school (town name?)
bookstore-free book
homework/laundry
read in park
updated website
bar one-and-a-half for me – 16 + 8? 12 +8?
precious notecards

satellite tv must’ve changed the third world much more dramatically and revolutionarily than it did the first-digital everything

music: kings of leon

I guess it feels like vacation because there’s nothing I have to do.

focus on spanish-practice as much as you can stand
locate wifi
locate bookstore
buy sandals

color, love, hope, time

beauty, love, hope/security/comfort, time

beauty – love – time - security/comfort

what is the relationship between love and beauty?

what is the relationship between love and happiness?

reassess what love is and what beauty is-start from scratch: do they exist? reaffirm your faith.

remember that love is not the only priority or even the highest priority for some (many)… security, comfort, freedom, others?

consider the role of relationship – connection – what is the link between love and relationship?

is the division/separation between rich and poor greater here than in the first world? I think it is… what are the numbers

terrell’s show is happening right now march 4, 2006. who’s the there? - I really miss them if I let myself.

check that wireless address again.

blog about today before bagel barn tomorrow.

verbs will really expand my options for speaking-the grammar will come.

bars are pretty much the same everywhere.

as far as foreign bars go, I think I prefer the ones in cincinnati

the first world has been here (guatemala) since before it was the first world-spain may have been a late comer… or an early one.

every situation has a correct response
-being big about unmet expectations
-being decisive about painting and livelihood
-taking charge arbitrarily and as necessary

sometimes there’s so much beauty in the world I feel like I can’t take it.
-american beauty

write and research while preparing the canvases.

buy a camera
go to nova color
store stuff

portraits – historical portraits from paintings and photos-use imagination/license-take liberties

consider dream violence

look to sidewalks or compositional insights

bodies can be unrecognizable shapes – amorphic/biomorphic/abiomorphic(?)

blood can be a shape or color-as can weapon, ocean, mother, mountain, travel, death, love, kill, animal, bomb

remain aware of the things that have lasting value/significance/import –and those that are merely momentary

- momentary or immediate pleasure is good and important to enjoy – but it pales alongside of it the eternal… ongoing/continuing/longterm/lifelong.

if we leap too far or too quickly from our worldview (comfort zone) then we risk insanity.

pondering death
pondering distance-foreign cultures
pondering loss of love, loneliness, alienation
pondering nature of reality

change early work pages

strive to tell the complete truth / to know the complete truth – not hiding from unwanted truths… not limiting self by prejudism or fear

I walked so far but found myself so near where I started – almost didn’t need to go at all.

design/make (plaster?) capitals and columns for studio, with faces on four sides

pay attention to the news for painting subjects.
april 17 tel aviv bombing story had interesting title potential- can you focus on one day’s news? probably too narrow.

there’s no way or need to pass judgment on violence. you’re not trying to judge it, you’re trying to understand it … but towards the end of doing away with it? hmmmm – or simply in consideration of it? … why do we do this? why self-destruct? self hate?

complex shapes with incorporated lines, but not necessarily “out”lines

do a series on paper

try out ebay

consider relationship between sex and violence
love/sex is similar to love/violence

consider nature of emotions – do web search what studies have been done? emotion and neurology… how does it work?

how does war fit into our evolving paradigm? how do we view enemies… what has changed since ww2? consider sports fans’ enthusiasm for their teams success – what leads to that?

are we growing into our christianity? are we evolving toward a christian communism?

there was a time when the evilness of strangers was believed in. is that still the case or is it changing? bush says the terrorists are evil-doers… they say bush is the great satan

what else? drive home

work from photos, reproductions or life. move outside of head.

write without organization.

empty basket

look up history of violence
search psychology of violence
cain and abel
goya cover
hastings
troy
north africa cartoons (dutch)
civil war
assassinations series-caesar, abraham lincoln, king, etc. remember becket – martyrs

write up specific acts of violence-not just war, also crime.

july august september october-cincinnati

clouds often make the sunset.

look on-line for jobs/grants/apts

there are some who make decisions, but don’t make the right decisions. decisiveness alone is not enough… but of course it does get you started.

sex in and of itself is a rarely worth the trouble - love however, always is… what about relationship – closer to love…is there a difference in that sense?

I’m ready to start living again.

youthful hubris>icarus fall> pinnacle of indecision then back down the other side. sisyphus metaphor?

it’s ok to make money - the trouble is in having false (unrealistic) expectations for what the money can do - bring happiness/solve problems – (non financial)

remember to cover goya

the series could go from linearly representational to less so (less literal, more abstracted, less recognizable) the progression can be more clear through the cohesion of the group – more and more abstracted versions of similar themes.

bounce back and forth between historical to present(?)

art project – put padlocks on things

locked/unlocked?

so much of my work
is done it in the morning
between sleeping and waking (rising)
while I’m still in bed.

cain and abel
the straw that broke the bactrian back
the danish cartoons
trace it back to the war - and further to the wtc
the camel’s inch that led to the mile

in order to return to venice I need to find love and livelihood.
travel to guatemala and cincinnati and maybe ithaca or elsewhere might just be flings before settling down with a return to venice - or maybe they are my version of striking it rich metaphor – the reverse of going west, or searching for treasure.

cable station idea -watergate hearings

how far away from violence am I? how would I react if threatened? how soon would I turn to violence in the face a perceived personal danger? how much of my pacifism is symptomatic of my privileged state of personal security?

page 34 costain – conquering family
degree of suffering determines success of king – “due to suffering he brought to his people” - hence good leader alleviates suffering - basis for appraisal.

too often we choose the fulfillment of immediate needs over long-term needs which ultimately leads to loneliness and hollowness.

big picture
environment/global warming

in every relationship times arise when the choice to take the easy way out must be balanced by the more difficult, and possibly risky way that has the potential, if not the promise, to eventually pay off.

too many options make life complicated, and yet the key (one of them?) to fulfillment is recognizing and acting on one’s options-with attention and coherence to your values. seems catch-22ish - but let me think it out.

violence? what are we school children?

I wonder if these conversations I overhear are the same that were spoken 80 years ago in paris.

burger king crowns

janis joplin is singing now and it reminds me of juliana and le carrousel patisserie … could that have been 17 years ago? twice her lifetime

I’m so far away but it really doesn’t seem far away, is that because it’s the same continent?

janis also reminds me of carla

I must e-mail to juliana and carla and alex

is it the discontentedness of others that I perceive? or is it my own? am I really as content as I perceive myself to be? as contented as I pretend to be? I think I mostly am… but I’m so gullable, you know.

everything is happier in color

sculptures, there must be sculptures.

what is the dehumanizing factor that invades the psyche of world leaders?

there must be a separate sense of ethics/morality that comes into play when the responsibility is with the big picture rather than with the individual.

so many people dying needlessly. is there an alternative to suffering and unnecessary death?

a lack of options is at the root of global inequality
but are those options relevant? in los angeles the difficulty is having too many options-like oil painting ~ there are always an infinity of possibilities even within the most narrowly defined parameters (system). – and yet the perception of limitation, inequality, oppression breeds discontent.

is art an appropriate method?

what can art accomplish? is there better way/medium? is it possible to provide hope? realistic hope/believable hope-not just good enough for the gullible and ignorant masses, but something that can actually be believed by rational-minded children of the scientific/digital/information age?

what brings about violence?

my immediate thought is that it is fear-driven. I think also there is a related anger, deep-seeded, and rooted in an awareness of injustice… there’s insecurity, self-righteousness, learned values/experience, religion and paradigm – what is learned and what is ingrained from evolution… what can be changed/overcome?

-perhaps life is not fair after all-could this be true? I don’t know, I need to take a closer look at values.

______________

I’m at café no se listing to lou reed waiting for his man

nope/yep

can I make an illustrated book? will that do it?-I must market it - there must be an audience!

now nico is singing femme fatale. I bummed a cigarillo – it’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever smoked-I’m drinking a victoria cerveza -it’s good, just ordered another

xwhat if I illustrated the bible, along side of an illustrated history of western civilization? alongside an illustrated study of classical literature?-could that do it? somehow look at the progression to the present with an intent to try to perceive the inertial possibilities leading into future developments

the questions that must be asked are -does violence work? and if so when?

does it appear to work because it so starkly and recognizably affects the short term?

one pretty flower
fallen to the deck
forgotten

one
pretty flower fallen
to the floor
forgotten

buy program manuals
buy camera
look into grants
look into ebay
do small drawings for show
work on book

plan paintings ahead of time
maybe practice on paper/computer

play around a lot with color combinations
keep individual paintings simple-maybe two or three colors plus black, but then vary that and have more complicated compositions-aim for great variance

carl somebody angry about jill rice
bill reynolds-no girl, but kelly pytel and mary o’neill later
dave maynard angry about chris lasco
charlie moushey and I got into a couple of fights-no recollection of reason.
I used to hit tim when I was ten(ish) and frustrated by inability to be heard - is that why I speak loudly?

I broke the dorm room phone, upset after a fight with debbie
I threw a painting through the window during a fight with juliana

work in the idea of (the wrongness of) forcefully imposing one’s will on another.
look for violent acts that are looked at as historically benign – columbus’s ok, but a little easy. .. richard lionheart is better … who else?

what about films? are there quotes? fight club?

research atrocities in general-in guatemala, in particular-allow mayan methods to influence - particularly ceramic paintings

think about violent shapes/colors also about threatening/acquiescent/vulnerable

rachel carson-violence of sea/nature ~ or if not that, look at her method of citing particular examples - lots of potential for brief citings of (perhaps) instances of historical and contemporary violence-let the reader/viewer draw conclusions

can the theme move beyond consideration of violence?

what’s the medieval image of aristotle and wife?-1997 horizontal drawings
are there other instances/images of female violence? texas depression murders – drownings / amputations?

where in the old brain is violence buried? what did jung say? what about other psychologists?

considere battle diagram as painting - compare with football play

clearly there is no way to overcome violence any time soon - and would it be right to do so, if we could? is there a positive side, or need for violence?

I just killed a bug (april 25th 2006 ) on my arm, didn’t even check to see if it was a mosquito-felt like an ant. it wasn’t really violence-more negligence.

other than cain and abel – are there biblical/literary/mythological instances?

look for history of barbed wire – when did it move from ranch to urban security?

what about all the barbed wire and razor wire and guatemala? can that be a title?

variety

the thing about including words is that it allows for greater abstraction in the image.

also, variance within group of recognizable to abstract allows for more freedom in image.

genghis vs. kublai – was each as cruel? what about chin(?) which was the paranoid violent one?

consider how often violence has worked for individual/short term.

who said he who lives by the sword dies by it

there is more truth in a sword than in a thousand words

search for quotes on violence (and swords)

not everybody wants to solve a conflict
not everybody values peace over violence

remember joel thoreson – violence fantasies – find those drawings

quilts/tapestries

download fleetwood mac-tusk

thatch roofed shelters, like shaggy multi-legged mammoths wading in the shallows.

bright red rooster just across the lagoon.

can violence marry with pretty colors? I think pastels must be used but used sparingly. play with neutrals.

I’ve had a couple dreams now about somebody trying to take this pen. that’s very strange to me.

the closed door
of my heart
is locked
from the inside

the closed door
of my heart
is blackened
from fire

the closed door
of my heart
opens easily
on well oiled hinges

(opens reluctantly
on rusted hinges)

consider relationships between triangles and circles

patterned costumes - armor?

murder/assassination paintings
martyrs - sebastian, catherine

spreading democracy is the new version of spreading christianity. remember that spreading christianity (by spaniards) was really looking for gold, just like the spread of democracy masks (and facilitates) the pursuit of oil … and the spreading of corporate control.

look at culturally accepted things that have changed (become no longer acceptable - what has led us to this? if violence as a potential cannot be overcome, to what extent can it be done away with as an actuality?

are there different kinds of violence? i.e. calculated vs. passionate

delta = change; because it’s pointy like a weapon?

choose historical and literary events - when possible, find visual sources. write factual non-biased accounts. do studies for paintings. paint.
-also, look for contemporary events. use similar methods to develop paintings
-do studies on paper, a size compatible with scanner-display behind glass

just think - what is the best environment for thinking?
-it’s not just a matter of time, it’s also one of opportunity
-it’s also a matter of access to information, materials, and communication

many people simply don’t know what to do-they simply wait, do enough and … may be doing nothing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be … maybe it’s only valuable when it is chosen as an alternative to the societal pressure to do something … and as a countermeasure to too much something-doing.

poverty is lack of opportunity more than lack of wealth.

I wonder what that girl in the restaurant was writing yesterday.

grizzlies enjoying a bath
elephant doing an amazing balance beam walk
snakes, black swans, flamingos, llamas, water buffalo

puma preoccupied with children on other side of fence.

love/sex/violence-these are things connected with strong emotions/insanity

consider the importance despite the risks of allowing these insanities

can we allow only the constructive elements while eliminating the negative ones?

eve’s guilt and shame over the loss of eden is analogous to the despair I felt from monster dream – the losing of everything, suddenly, not having realized that it was had or that it could be lost – and through a mistake/sin that was not recognized as such – coloring on bedroom wall

use ethnic and art historical sources-look online-look for trans-cultural similarities.

suspended sculptures like marionettes

gonzalo fernandez de oviedo – blood and chocolate

-in meso american thought, hearts of sacrificial victims were conceived (depicted) as cacao pods-implying an analogy between blood and chocolate beverages.

-originally the spaniards did not like the taste of cacao beverages and found the “abundant foam that smeared the lips repulsive”-eventually with the addition of sugar cacao became popular.

jaguar with maize, on head appears frequently on vertical pedestal sculptures.

try doing papier-mache relief on panel

very simple paintings flat orange with red figure outlined with black and maybe some black decorations-consider this when painting.

on his transit to death, the maize god rides a canoe manned by paddler gods. under the canoe the god emerges as a child from maw of an aquatics monster. elsewhere two beautiful women are dressing and adoring him.

do cover versions based following descriptions:

young and attractive woman with an elaborate headdress

enthroned lord with warrior headdresss and shield

copador bowl with monkeys, regarded as patrons of the arts in meso america

I watch a blue butterfly appear and disappear with each gentle flap of its wings

derek jensen-the culture of make believe

mirador –

make opportunities fearlessly.
see the opportunities to create more opportunities.
remember the exponential increase of acquaintances in 1986.

for all practical purposes, water is immortal-well ok, I know it’s not alive, but …

this water rushes through semuc champey everyday whether I’m here or not – now that I think of it though, it’s not the same water at all. this could be the only time that most of this water will ever do this. think of the the journey each molecule of water has-think of the excitement of leaping down falls and bubbling through rapids -grab life… think of the water that passes through our bodies… that compose our bodies. 500 million years old or something like that.

maybe decorative vessels… material?

also paper pieces-small-display behind glass? maybe 8 and a half by 11

interactive sculpture that allows a viewer to impale it?

embroidery?

dresden codex is a long accordion folded book ornately written and decorated.

jaguar god often appears on funerary urns (symbolizing power of life over death?)

funerary urn with human head, possibly young maize god emerging from mouth of jaguar – another human figure emerges from top of jaguar head. together with vegetal motifs-could represent rebirth of maize god.

funerary urn with young man’s head emerging from bird’s beak.

visual artists have a different relationship to history than musicians and even writers-because of surviving examples.

freestanding painted wooden sculptures-stelae inspired

also, sculpted heads-wood/plaster/cloth-papier-mâché

the recurring theme of loss: eden, anxiety dream, gerri, faith

haruki murakami – wild sheep chase

remember to believe in yourself – that is the lesson – the answer to the crisis of faith – the lost faith wasn’t your faith in god, love, art, beauty, or humanity – it was your faith in yourself…

find a gallery to show paintings in conjunction with a show at terrell’s. maybe also put small pieces at abbot’s. have everything well displayed on website. include writings, and video? book - publicize/promote

paintings
drawings
writings
significant titles
video-interviews
audio-clips
book

proposal
website
referrals

history of violence
psychology of violence
personal vs societal
passionate vs political

evolution-chimps

post world war two american history

search for assassinations, atrocities, violence

consider definition, history, and practice of cruel and unusual punishment.

tv, movies, and video games-is there any believable connection between these and violence? rationale behind ratings system / censorship?

be as fair as possible but don’t shy from opinion and bias-just distinguish fact from viewpoint.

write out the violence interview questions – post them and invite others to submit answers – via video

remember current events and found titles.

what happens to people’s bodies to make them shaped like they are?

start transcribing notes and formulating proposal-get ready for internet tomorrow.

(girl from where)
we laughed and we played
and we cried and laughed
we horsed around
and then we giraffed

I asked her if she’d
please marry me
she just gave me that look
and said, “we’ll see.”

I went insane one night in june
staring in staring at a crescent moon

and then at dawn the sun rose high
and to my moon, I said goodbye

I stood up and stretched and I went to bed
with visions of sugar plums atwirl in my head

I dreamt it was easter, and that I had lied
to the girl that had moved into my left side

I’d told her, you see, that her eyes were pearls
when really, I knew, they were cinnamon swirls

she said that was fine, just as long
as she could see me eat a song

so I sang myself some ice cream and pie
and then ate it all up, and said goodbye

she said, “don’t go, I have your hat.”
and as I looked I noticed that

her eyes were cinnamon, but also pearls
and she was the loveliest of all the girls

so we stayed together and dreamt ‘til noon
but awoke each dusk to stare at the moon.

one morning I awoke in the frozen south
with the strangest taste inside my mouth

so I felt around to see what was there
and what I found was a long blond hair

a pulled it out, but to my surprise
after the hair, I found some of eyes

and then a nose, a mouth, and chin!
they smiled at me and said with a grin

“good morning, and how are you?”
I said I’d be fine in a moment or two

she said that if I would help her up
she’d give me a drink for her golden cup

so I pulled and I pulled as much as I could
and when I had to finished, there she stood

with eyes like sunshine and lips like the rain
that quenches my thirst and eases my pain

I went for a walk and I saw a sight
she was something see, so I thought I might
walk a bit closer and see if she talked
she opened her mouth, but her tongue was locked.

I said, “como estás? and how are you?”
but her mouth just closed and her face turned blue
I ask, “what’s wrong?” but it was plain to see
she could not answer unless I found the key.

I reached deep down into my pants pocket
to try to find a key for her tongue, and unlock it
I found three quetzales, a bottle cap, and a pen
she looked at me curiously, with her mouth open

then I saw a flower growing from the ground
I looked for a gardener, but there was none to be found
so I reached and I picked it from where it had grown
then handed it to her and asked, “are you alone?”

she thanked me gladly and let out a moan.

it started from somewhere in her inside
and when it came out, her eyes opened wide
and then she announced in a voice sweet and pure
I’d never have thought it, but you found the cure

Some have dollars
And some have cents (sense)

some have pounds
And some have pence

Some might wish
For their weight in gold

Some might wish
To never grow old

I knew a man who could not fly
He tried to once, but broke his thigh

They fixed him up in a chair with wheels
And fed him bananas without the peels

After awhile he could walk again
And when I saw him I said, "How've ya been?"

He said, "Not bad, if you must know. "
I said, "That's great, now I must go. " - ( glad to hear it, but I've got to go(?))

I went for a walk with a giant fish
I found a penny and made a wish
I held it in my hand all day
I wished I might then I wished I may
I wish for a love and fame and wealth
Then I wished for leisure and good health

the fish you know, his name was frank
he dove into the ocean and then just sank
you see the thing I have to tell you about him
is that frank, though a fish, just couldn’t swim

so I called for the divers and the parameds
then we called the cops and we called the feds
the firemen came with their hook and ladder
and when they caught him, I couldn’t’ve been gladder.

he sputtered and spat and he heaved and he coughed
and then he cried because his heart was so soft.
he thanked each rescuer one by one
he shook their hands, and when he was done

he said to me, let’s go to a bar
so we walked to one ‘cause I don’t have a car.
when we got to the bar frank sat on a stool
I sat down next to him and asked, “ do you want to shoot pool?”

he said that he didn’t, that he wanted to think
and he thought he’d think better, if he had something to drink.
now, the thing about frank, is he drinks like a trout
he can keep at it for days and never pass out.

so he ordered club soda but without any bubbles
because with a stomach like his, they cause nothing but troubles.

for christmas one year frank had to head east
it seems that his brother was preparing a feast
he’d invited the family, the friends, and the staff
so frank couldn’t miss it, and I had to laugh
to see him so happy and excited to go
he asked me to come, but I had to say no.

you see I was feeling a need to head down
towards the equator to a quiet little town

xtap (water from the)

the bartender said, “we haven’t got any of that”
frank stayed on his stool in just stared and just sat

the wish

I wish I could just go out walking each day
and have lovely friends with something to say
and sometimes we’d say it and sometimes we wouldn’t
but just for the silence, not ‘cause we couldn’t

we’d walk and we’d play and we’d love and we’d sing
we’d eat what we liked and not hurt a thing
and that’s all that I wish, it might sound like a lot
but if you’ve just got one wish, then that’s all you’ve got.

I wished for peace, and diamonds and pearls
I wished for women and I wished for girls

so if you drop a penny upon the ground
leave it there where it might be found

by someone who will wish for love

all the treasures in all the worlds, you see
can’t make you happy or set you free

I stared at the phone but it didn’t ring

I had wished for myself and me and I

I sat alone in my bed

now every morning, as I close my eyes
she holds me close and sweetly sighs

I asked the weatherman what he thought
the chances were that I’d get caught

in the rain between here and there
he looked at me as if he didn’t care (with a blank stare)

and said that he couldn’t say for sure (say for certain?)
but if I’d like to choose a curtain

he looked at me as if he did not care
and then he said with a blank stare

I met a girl when I was young,
we fell in love and we had a son

and when he grew up, brave and tall
she went to the war one year in the fall

he fought with courage and conviction (?)

I fell in love with a girl from where
it had something to do with the curl of her hair

I said to her, “will you please?”
she answered, “not yet, I’ve lost my keys”

then gave me a look that I’ll never forget (not soon?)

2006-05-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

lunes, 15 de mayo

happy birthday su.

another week has slipped by. after posting that last update – written tuesday, but posted wednesday, I went from monterrico to Antigua, talking politics and economics with some friendly Minnesotans. it was great to be back in Antigua, very familiar and very easy… surprising how different it is from the other places I’ve been in Guatemala, now that I can look at it in retrospect.

so that was wednesday, I spent that and thursday there, just relaxing comfortably. bought a couple books – hadn’t really had anything to read lately, did my laundry – which was long overdue, and walked around town. was very tempted to stay, but still had xela on my list, and so decided to at least check it out and then could come back or return to the lake to finish out the month.

I almost ended up staying through the weekend anyway, but at the last minute friday morning I sorta spur of the momentish made up my mind to get it over with and go while I had something to read on the bus. so off I went. the ride had a couple of necessary transfers, one of which was unexpected and so I missed it and wound up having to hitch a ride back to quiché and finding a connecting bus, but that was pretty easy and quick and a bit of an adventure.

arrived in xela sometime early afternoonish, had chosen a place to stay – this time of year it doesn’t seem like anything is full, so I’ve been getting my choice pretty easily. walked from the bus terminal, which was a little confusing because it’s off the map that’s included in lonely planet, but I at least new which direction it was in and so it wasn’t difficult or as long as I’d expected. found my way straight to the place, left my things in the room and went out exploring.

I love xela. this is probably my favorite place so far. it’s a good sized city, but it’s easy to walk from one side to the other – it’s bigger and less touristy than Antigua, and smaller and less polluted than the capital. it seems to have lots of good places to eat – found a vegetarian meal friday night served by a girl from winnapeg and accompanied by an interesting conversation with a student from Dartmouth. the following morning I had a good breakfast at a café that featured music by a jazz quartet – very sophisticated, you know.

been walking around a lot, took some photos yesterday, timing is important because so far it’s rained most of the afternoon each day. but there have been several sunshiny hours earlier in the day though, which make for good walking.

I’m pretty content here, I think I’ll stay for awhile, maybe until it’s time to head home, only a little more than two weeks to go… can that be right? I’ll have to find a place to plug my computer in today so I can put this up, but of course if you’re reading this then I must’ve already done that.

enjoy your day.

martes 9 de mayo

2006-05-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

martes 9 de mayo,

hmmm. what can I tell ya? have managed to let quite awhile slip by this time. I remember how consistently I was keeping up on this blog when I was in Antigua. I was comfortably immersed in a routine that included time for writing either in the afternoon if I planned to go out, or before bed if I’d stayed in. once I was in san pedro, my routine still kept me writing pretty consistently, but since then there has been no routine at all, and boy do the days slip by. oh well, I suppose it’s good to have periods of routine mixed with periods of its lack, so I’ll just see what I can do avbout catching up.

I left off apparently when I was in coban. from there I took a bus to lanquìn, which is a tiny little town about 40 miles from coban, but the roads are twisty (it’s hard to write “windy” and mean they wind around, because of course it looks like they blow, if you see what I mean, and somehow tortuous seems too cliché or hi-falutin’ or both maybe… for roads like these) and so, it’s almost a two hour drive to get there. of course it’s not just the roads that slow down the travel, it’s also the fact that the bus stops frequently to pick up and drop off passengers and their pets along the way. it was a very colorful trip.

the town itself is little more than a central square surrounding a park, with a few streets shooting off for a few hundred yards before disappearing into steep foliage filled cliffs and hillsides. the main street that passes through the town travels roughly north/south. if you continue south for about six miles you’ll get to semuc champey, which I’ll tell you about in a minute. if you backtrack (towards coban) about a half a mile or so, you’ll get to las grutas de lanquìn – the caves of lanquìn, which are the main tourist attraction here, although really the main reason to visit lanquìn, seems to be that it’s on the way to semuc champey. so, I arrived, spilled out of the bus, dropped my backpack at the first hotel I saw, which incidentally was clean and cheap, but its nearness to the bus stop was its main selling point, and headed off to the caves.

the walk to the caves was beautiful, along a treelined unpaved road. the caves were dark, cool, and slippery with condensation and bat shit. I had them completely to myself and was warned by the guard at the ticket shack that I only had an hour, because they couldn’t run the generator that powers the lights for longer than that for just one person. not having a watch, I took a photo as I entered, which allowed me to see the time according to the camera’s clock on the LED screen. I didn’t think they’d really turn out the lights with me still in there, but having read tom sawyer, I didn’t want to take any chances.

I took photos throughout the walk, as much in an attempt to capture the feeling of being there and the fascinating forms of the rocks, as to keep an eye on my allotted time. the first few hundred yards were sorta sparsely lit with bare bulbs spreadalong a line about one every dozen or fifteen feet. they seemed like forty waters, but to be fair, were probably 100’s – the main point being that it was pretty dark, would’ve been absolutely dark if the power had failed, and except for the bats, I was alone. nevertheless, after the first few minutes,I got accustomed to it and, while somewhat cautious – didn’t want to break a leg or slip and become concussed – had a good adventure and explored the lit part thoroughly. I arrived at the end of the light bulbs after about forty-five minutes and so, hurried as much as sure-footing would allow back to the entrance, which took much less time on the way out (not stopping to take photos, or examine rock shapes) than it had on the way in. I didn’t take a final shot as I emerged, so I’m not certain what the time was, but I think I made it with minutes to spare. as I walked past the guard and waved a goodbye to him, I noticed his assistant scrambling up a bank towards the generator switch to turn it off… so they probably would’ve waited for me afterall.

that left me with most of the day left to relax, which is what I did. I walked several periodic laps around the town, but there was little to do. once I stopped and bought water, once I stopped and bought an orange soda, twice I stopped and ate a meal. nothing vegetarian on any menus, but I found a friendly senora in the restaurant closest to the hotel who would whip me up rice, eggs and beans anytime of day and provide me with a huge stack of corn tortillas, all for 10Q – 15 with an orange soda. in between those little excursions, I lounged in my room reading, and maybe typing a couple emails to be sent later.

the evening was surprisingly loud and boisterous. the town was so sleepy and quiet during the day, I was kind of surprised to hear it wake up at night with loud music blaring from someplace… which might’ve been a vehicle that was occasionally stopping and then driving a lap around the square, because it would be loud for awhile and then fade away and then pick back up… that theory made more sense to me than the one where the volume was just inexplicably raised and lowered. that went on for an hour or so and then died down, but voices continued out in the street ‘til well past 2am. I couldn’t tell what they were talking about.

the next morning, which I just figured out must’ve been thursday the 4th, I found my way to semuc champey. there’s no real organized way of getting there, well actually there sort of is, but it’s not really scheduled or posted. the method that I used, which worked well, was to simply pack my bags, go out on the street, and wait for a truck heading my way. while waiting, I stopped in for breakfast at my friendly lady’s restaurant, and by the time I was done, spotted a pickup truck that was loading passengers into its bed.

the road was bumpy and windy (tortuous, not blowing) it was unpaved and sloped steeply off to the sides. there was really only a little more than one lane’s width of flat road in the center, but somehow there was room for big oncoming dumptrucks to pass unhesitatingly (but heart-stoppingly, for me anyway) to our left. we climbed up a series of awitchbacks that left us looming over the tiny town distantly beneath us, and then wound our way through some heavily forested area with everything from pines to coconut and banana trees, eventually coming out into scorched hillsides intended for crop planting – probably corn, judging by the steep fields already being cultivated. eventually we arrived along a river and I disembarked at las marias, which is the one spot to stay overnight close to semuc champey itself, which is a national park, or preserve, I’m not sure what term they use.

I checked in, got a dorm room (25Q) that had four beds, but ended up having it to myself for the two nights I stayed there, so that was good. electricity at las marias is scarce, and the generator is turned off at 10pm and doesn’t come on again until some undefined time late in the morning… or maybe afternoon, I never quite figured it out, because I wasn’t really around - in my room, it only took the form of a bare bulb by the door that allowed me to see my way to the bed at night. the walk to semuc champey is a hot and parly uphill three-quarters of a mile. once in the park there’s still probably another half mile to reach the pools, but the scenery throughout is beautiful.

the pools are formed by a series of waterfalls that spill down the mountain. the water gathers between each and rests in shallowish spots before continuing down to the next level. when I say shallow, that doesn’t mean that you can touch bottom everywhere, but most of the pools do have places where you can, but also spots that might get as deep as three or four meters… perfect for swimming and diving. the biggest waterfalls drop into some of the coolest water, which is hidden from the sun by the cliff overwhich the water is falling (if you see what I mean) the result is that you can swim underneath the waterfall and be warmed up by the sun-heated water from above. it was lots of fun and I played and swam for a couple hours before heading off to explore what else the area had to offer.

on the way into the park, I had noticed a sign that simply said “mirador” and pointed up a path. I ignored it for then, being anxious to check out the pools, but went back to it after my swim. it took me up an incredibly steep ascent straight up (well, there were switchbacks, and occasionally wooden steps) the side of the mountain. I climbed and climbed and climbed for an unbelievable distance, wondering if I would eventually find the top. eventually I did, and the path leveled out and began to slope back down uneventfully. but then, just as I was thinking, that’s all there is to it – a good work out – the path opened up into a little ledge that looks steeply over the pools far below. it was incredible, and well worth the hike. I have a photo, I don’t know if it really shows the steepness and the distance as well as I’d like, but I’ll put it here anyway.

I sat there for quite awhile, resting from the climb and looking down at the tiny people so far below, seemingly cool and relaxed as they swam and lolled in the bluegreen water. I had intended to be done with swimming for the day, but after the hot and sweaty climb, the water looked so irresistibly inviting that I had to go back for more. my second swim ended up being even longer and more adventurous than my first and I definitely pushed my limits of swimming against currents and climbing up banks and leaping off ledges. it was fun and exhilarating.

oh, one interesting aside, that I almost forgot to mention. as I walked up the path towards the mirador turnoff after my morning swim, I encountered a group of a dozen (maybe fifteen) grinning teenage boys dressed in cami’s and carrying machine guns. they greeted me in a friendly way, and having grown accustomed to heavily armed security, my only thought was that it seemed excessive for such a tranquil place to have such overly prepared park rangers. I forgot about them while I was up at the mirador lookout, but when I came back down, I noticed one standing sentry over one of the pools I had swum in earlier. I thought, maybe I had inadvertently been in a restricted zone, and was glad I’d gotten out before they arrived. but as it turned out, I found somebody to ask about it and was informed that none of the pools were off limits and that the guards were there because the first lady (that would be oscar berger’s wife, not george bush’s) was coming for a visit. so there you have it, I found my way to pretty much the most secluded spot I could and end up arriving on the same day as the first lady of Guatemala. by the time my second swim was over a few hours later, she was there, as I walked towards the park exit. surrounded by fawning dignitaries and an impressive entourage, all well guarded by inconspicuous and heavily armed kids lurking amidst the green background. from what I could see the mrs. berger seemed very nice and had a pleasant smile, although her husband sounds like a real piece of work… as national leaders often are. outside the gate (ok there isn’t really a gate) there was quite a crowd waiting for a glimpse of her as she exited. there were tv crews with big cameras and a news helicopter. also there were parked four or five very official looking suv’s which were the first lady’s and entourage transport. all very exciting and dissonant.

made some friends that night over dinner. a trio from the basque area of spain, near bilbao, who were just finishing up six months of volunteering at a school in xela (actually two were teaching, the other was a nurse and so probably not at the school, but I’m not certain) very nice people, I enjoyed talking with them. also befriended an English couple – sam and kate – who had been traveling around the world for eleven months and were due back in another month or so after working there way up through mexico to visit an aunt in LA. I played an odd sort of cardgame with a vulgar name that I’ve forgotten… maybe asshole, but that’s not quite right.

the next day I went fro a swim in the river directly across from the hostel, challenging myself to swim across, which was a bit daunting as the water was kinda deep most of the way and the current, while not too strong added a factor of concern. it felt good to risk it though and also good just to swim in the coolish water. after doing that for some time, I borrowed an innertube from the hostel and floated downstream. I successfully navigated two rapids and then started thinking about the potential difficulty of the return and so headed back upstream. it did prove pretty tough going to get back through the rapids - had to wade part of it, and pull myself along against the current by grabbing rocks – but once through that part it was just a matter of staying near the bank where the current was lighter and paddling with my arms ( and sometimes legs as well). it was a pretty good workout and left my arms sorta sore and heavy for a couple days.

back at las marias, I spent the afternoon reading a pretty bad novel, written in 1980 and trying to anticipate the coming digital age… interesting really only in a historical way… hard to believe that none of us really new what the future held in store back in those days before mtv, pc’s and the internet… so I can’t really hold the author at fault, but it was a pretty poorly written book otherwise… but of course I’m the one that spent an afternoon reading it… and I guess I enjoyed for the simple fact that it was a book and it was written in English, and that has become rare treat lately.

the three from spain had left that morning, so I hung out with sam and kate that evening and also a girl named melody from austin texas who had arrived. there was also a girl from norway, who’s name I didn’t catch and two guys from england, one of whose names was sam, which I remembered because of the strangeness of two sams being in such a small group – both English though, maybe it’s a more common name there, I don’t know. anyway, it was a pleasant evening. I thought about catching the five o’clock shuttle to coban – especially when I heard that it was actually a 6am shuttle because it was sunday, but then as I was going to sleep I realized I couldn’t because I hadn’t yet paid my bill and if you’re leaving early you must pay the night before… so that was a good excuse to sleep in. which proved a good decision – not the least because a large group arrived in the middle of the night and caused quite a stir… never really got the story on where they came from and why they would be arriving at one in the morning.

I got up later than I’d intended, partly because of the noise in the middle of the night and partly because it was only just then sinking into my mind that Guatemala – or maybe just some of it (?) had finally gotten around to switching to daylight savings time… I still haven’t gotten it figured out and as of this writing, simply don’t know what time it is. as I arrived in the restaurant area though, sam and kate were just ordering breakfast and so I ordered to despite noticing that a truck was already there and might presumably be heading to back lanquìn. sam and kate confirmed that suspicion, but said the driver had told them to go ahead and eat first. so we did. the breakfasts there are not great, and I thought as I was eating that I probably would’ve been better off waiting until I got to my friendly spot in lanquìn, but as it ended up, it was good I ate when I did.

the three of us, along with a handful of locals, had an adventurous ride into lanquìn, held up at one point for roadwork and an amazing bit of driving when we finally maneuvered around the big backhoe. a minibus to coban was waiting when we arrived, and so I got straight into it. it ended up only taking me just outside of town, where we all switched into another. there I met a girl named Karen, who is from the arctic area in northern Canada. I had no idea until talking with her that the northwest territory had split in two and that a new Canadian province had formed out of the eastern half. the entire province has a population of about 25,000 (80% inuit) and the town she’s from only has about 800 people. she works with special needs kids, but lately has been behind a desk rather than working directly with the kids, and now is just beginning a year of volunteering with a couple different schools in central and south America. all very interesting and the conversation made the trip to coban go quickly. once there, I decided to walk her to the bus station since it would be the same one I’d be leaving from the following day to go to Guatemala city, and so it seemed both polite and a good opportunity to scout it out, but by the time we got there, I decided that really I might as well just continue on to the capital anyway, as long as I had somebody to talk with. so I did that.

Karen was on her way to copan, so switched buses about fifty miles outside of Guatemala city. I continued on and held my breath through a lot of highspeed truck passing and lane switching and generally scary bus riding, but got to the capital in one piece and was glad to see that the bus depot was one of the ones in zona 1, only a couple blocks from the hotel fenix, where I’d stayed before. I was made welcome there and it feltlike a homecoming, and I found that melody, from Austin texas, was checked into my old room, having taken my advice both that Guatemala city was worth visiting and that the hotel fenix was the place to stay. so that made me feel good.

I spent sunday hanging out in the city. I found the terminal de autobuses in zona 4, where the lonely planet told me I’d need to go to catch a bus to monterrico. it looked pretty disorganized and crazy, but at least I knew where it was, so I wouldn’t be hot and lost carrying my backpack, etc. the next morning however, as I left the hotel, the friendly guy at the desk asked where I was off to and I told him. he asked if I knew where to go and when I said to the terminal de autobuses, he said that the buses for monterrico didn’t leave from there anymore. so, with a fair amount of confusion, I finally got directions from him to the place in zona 12, where I needed to go. I had to get on a bus #51 (or #4 would also apparently work) and that would take me to the place. a girl on the bus told me when I should get off and where to go after doing so, otherwise I would’ve had a rough time. then as I walked along, trying to figure it out, the bus suddenly appeared sort of magically in front of me and a moment later I was on it. the downside was that it was three hours (to go about 75 miles) and I already had to pee by the time I got on.

the bumpy roads didn’t help my urinary situation and the crowded bus and the heat combined to make it a rough journey that seemed likely to never end. finally after a switching of buses, at which time, had I known more, I could’ve found a place to pee, we arrived at the dock in la avellana, from where you take a boat to monterrico. again I missed a chance to pee, but that time, had I looked for a place, I might’ve missed the launch and I’m not sure when the next would’ve been. the launch left pretty much as soon as we all got off the bus and loaded ourselves onto it. I spent the surprisingly long trip concentrating on resisting the almost unbearably urgent need to pee as the gentle waves lapped fluidly against the sides of the boat, and the vibrations of the outboard motor traveled through the wooden planks of the boat making what seemed a direct connection with (and dangerous temptation for) my bladder.

after visions of going down in local legends as, “remember that gringo that peed himself on the launch to monterrico? man that was soooo funny!” and concern over the possibility of finding a reasonably priced room when arriving with a pee soaked pants front, we finally arrived at the montrrico dock. I hurried to the first place that looked even a little like a restaurant and asked for a bathroom. they pointed me down a sidestreet to another place. I saw a sign that said WC and had the little man/woman international pictograph there and so, although it looked unlikely - just several people laying around under a thatched roof – I went inside, where a woman agreed that she had a bathroom, and for only three quetzals I could use it. I would’ve gladly paid a huindred times that, despite the fact that it would’ve left me with almost no cash on an island beach resort with no bank. I quickly dug in my pocket, found the three coins, left my bags outside the door and peed happily for several minutes.

feeling immeasurably better, I thanked the señora and went off in search of a place to stay. I walked by one place that advertised 40Q per night sunday through thursday, which was about as low as I’d been led to expect, but with my newly relieved bladder, I felt like I might as well explore a bit. my search didn’t really reveal anything that looked better, so I eventually doubled back and found myself the happy occupant of room #14 of whatever the name of this place is, I’ll have to pay attention the next time I go out. it’s easy to spot because it’s right next door to the internet place, so names aren’t too important.

after checking in yesterday, yes, that’s when it was, just yesterday, so we’re almost caught up here. I headed out to the beach. this is an ugly, litter-filled town with sad neglected dogs, lazy from the heat, lounging on the shady areas of the black sand. that said, the beach once you get a little away from the town itself is beautiful. and the ocean is amazing. it’s the pacific and it feels like the pacific and yet it’s very different from the pacific back home. it’s like seeing a new and completely unexpected side to a lover you’ve known for years… at once exciting, but tinged with a feeling of betrayal. the water is warm, more than warm, close to body temperature, as is the air… wading out into it is like moving into another medium of density, but not of heat. the surf is dramatic with huge waves breaking a little too far from shore to ride in. the rip tide and undertow are dramatic in most areas, complicating and making more dangerous the waveplay… and of course lifeguards are unheard of, as are, this time of week/year anyway, other bathers, so you’re on your own.

after an afternoon swim and a refreshing orange soda, I went in search if vegetarian food. pretty tough to find, but I did finally locate a restaurant that would provide my with a veggie pizza after 6pm… which was apparently 7pm according to what I’d come to believe local time was, but I really can’t tell anymore. I waited until what was either 6:30 or 7:30 and walked back over. the pizza was great, and I washed it down with a liter of beer (they were out of the small size) but throughout the meal I was continually attacked by mosquitos. amazingly, I seem to have emerged unscathed, and won’t step out after dark here again without my repellant crema applied generously.

my room has a fan and a mosquito net, but the night was long and hot. there was a thunderstorm around 3-4am, but while loud enough to wake me, it didn’t cool things off. I’ll go for a swim now and take some pictures later and post this sometime this afternoon. tomorrow, I’ll go somewhere, but it might be back to Guatemala city or maybe to Antigua, I need to look into transport options today. either way, my real destination is xela, which will finish off my list of places I feel compelled to visit. after that, I’m not sure where I’ll finish out the month.

I hope you’re all doing well, and if I’ve been out of touch with you – which is almost certainly the case, it’s not because you’re not in my thoughts.

later:

I didn’t get around to posting this… long story, or not… let’s just call it laziness… no, let’s call it procrastination… whatever we call it, I’m putting it off til tomorrow or the next day. I went out and took photos, but the truth is they’re not great… I went out this morning with my camera, but only took a couple of shots and none of the waves, even though they were big. it was overcast and I thought it would clear up and so I waited. after writing the above, I went out for a swim, but didn’t bring the camera as I didn’t want to leave it on the beach__ not that anybody else was there and not that they would’ve taken it if they’d been, but it just seemed like I shouldn’t take it. anyway, the waves were still big and while I had fun, it was impossible to catch anything good… I rode a few, but caught them so close to the steep shoreline that they weren’t great rides. finally I went out with the camera in the afternoon, but by then the waves had died down and all I ended up shooting were dogs and pigs… and a few chickens. I guess I took some shots of the waves and I’ll probably post them, but they really don’t show how virulent this coast can be. oh well, believe me and use your imagination… think big waves, breaking late, carving a steep sloping shoreline and creating a crazy riptide… oh and did I mention the sand is black?… as if in perpetual mourning, I guess… if johnny cash was a surfer, this’d be his beach.

oh, bytheway, just in case my brother is still printing this off for my parents, I noticed yesterday that there’s a post office here and was going to send a letter that would maybe get to ohio by sometime close to mother’s day, which I think is next sunday, but god, or one of his assistants, only knows… anyway, for some inexplicable reason it was closed today… I don’t know why, so mom, if you’re reading this I’m sorry and I’m thinking of you and I love you and I hope you have a lovely mothers’ day.

oh, bytheway also… I checked with my friendly pizza making restaurant woman (had spaghetti tonight) and she explained “old time” which is standard and what seems to be on all the clocks still, and “new” time which is daylight savings and what bus schedules and computers seem to rely on. there’s no easy way around it, because unless you have your own watch set to reflect one of the two systems. you’ll never know which is which… so all’s lost as far as that goes.

time for bed. in the morning I’m gonna try to figure out what time I need to check out (la hora de salida, I believe) and what time the buses leave. I’m leaning towards Antigua, but I don’t know if I’ll spend the night or just try to plug away and get to xela… we’ll see.

oh, the final bytheway, today is (I think) either ann oliverio’s or jonathan wight’s birthday… I’ve gotten them confused… if anyone can help me out with that drop me an email. my guess is that ann’s was today and jonathan’s was yesterday, but it’s been a long time. I think kevin kennison’s was the third, and that’s even longer. I should do a search for him.

goodnight.

next day now, posting the photos, the connection seems to be failing, so I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead and maybe add the rest of the photos later. about to catch a ride to antigua - longish story... from there I can get to xela.

martes 25 abril

2006-05-02T14:39:00.000-07:00

martes, 25 abril

well, this isn’t too bad, feels like ages since I’ve updated this, but it’s really only been a couple days, because I wrote saturday afternoon and although it’s tuesday now, it’s bright and early… actually the couple glimpses that I can get through the trees show me a sky that looks overcast and I hear the grumbling of thunder somewhere not too far away… so it’s early, but maybe not as bright as it could be, which is ok with me because that makes it pleasantly cool despite the humidity which hangs heavily in the air and smells and tastes pungently like the earth herself is sweatily recuperating from a night a amorous indiscretion.

I’m in rio dulce now. well, actually I’m not in the town of rio dulce, which when I arrived there yesterday, seemed pretty much like more of the same sort of place I’ve been getting used to elsewhere, but I am on the rio dulce – almost literally… maybe literally, now as I look now over the ledge and realize that water does seem to go all the way beneath this cabana. I’m on sort of an inlet, not the main drag of the river, very quiet and tranquil, the only sounds so far this morning being birds and jungle noises, which are the kinds of things that a new-age sound mixer might put on a cd to help the city-bound overcome insomnia… for now they seem to be comfortably background noise volumed… say about a three or four, and had I not just woken from a pleasant night’s sleep, maybe they’d cause me to doze off a bit myself.

I’m staying at a place mentioned in the lonely planet, it’s called casa perico, and although it sounded attractive when I read about it in the capital, I had opted against it simply because it seemed sort of isolated. but once I arrived, I realized that when it comes to rio dulce, isolated is preferable to the alternative. I’m not likely to run into many locals here, but there are ten or twelve other travelers around and that seems good enough for me.

I have the upper floor of a palapa roofed cabana. the roof is thatched with a double layer of long sort of palm frondish leaves… long straight shafts with countless leaves shooting off to the sides… since I’m on the top, which I guess amounts to the attic (there’s just one room/floor below) my walls are palapa also, but the roof rises at such a steep angle that it makes for quite a comfortable and spacious living area with a very high ceiling. it’ll be interesting to see how things hold out when the rain comes, apparently the roof must work pretty well, because everything seems dry and well preserved. I have a pleasant breeze running through my loft as both ends remain open, no glass enclosures here, just tall triangular openings revealing trees with pendulous vines like rastafarian hair dangling down to the dark but shallow water below. in the middle of the room are two twin beds with mosquito nets. there is a low table and coat rack across from where I’m seated at a picnickish table with benches on each side. there’s also an anachronistically modern oscillating fan, which I’ve turned off now in the coolness of the morning, but last night kept on – neglecting the oscillation option in favor of simply aiming it directly at myself. I fell asleep blanketless, but sometime in the middle of the night, woke enough to cover myself.

outside now I hear human voices and that must mean that the others are rising and that maybe the kitchen is open and breakfast available. I’ll go find out and return to write more later.

miercoles 26 abril

well, it’s later than I intended when I left off writing yesterday morning. it’s about 26 hours later, although time here travels somehow differently than elsewhere… maybe that can be said for all places/times/people…

anyway,let’s see if I can take a stab at catching this up.

jueves 27 abril

well, clearly I didn’t take much of a stab at that yesterday… I think I got sidetracked by breakfast and then read for awhile and then went for a swim… but I’m getting ahead of myself, or at least ahead of where I’ve left off… so let’s see about backtracking.

guatemala city reeked suffocatingly of car exhaust fumes. they billowed out of the back end of every passing vehicle, invading my lungs like three packs a day in a coal mine. I had a great time there, but was anxious to leave before I’d consumed irreparable quantities of carcinogenic toxins. on the plus side the hotel was run down, but cool. it had big rooms and hot water. it was run by a friendly family, and although the restaurants don’t accommodate vegetarians, there was a market down the street, so I did alright once I gave up on eating out.

the museums were great. I went to the popol vuh on saturday, which was good sized and well presented___ just realized I’ve already told about that, I’m not as far behind as I feel. the museum of archeology and ethnology was really impressive – very large, filled with artifacts (sorta casually and carelessly displayed and identified) from all over Guatemala. I was glad that I’d gone to the popol vuh the day before, so I recognized many of the pieces (funerary urns, those neat whistling pitchers, etc…) even though they weren’t labeled. I had the place pretty much to myself. I walked from the north side of the city, leaving the hotel around 7:30, and got there in plenty of time to be there when it opened at 9. the walk was longer than the day before, I think it must’ve been about three and a half miles, but I’m not certain. by the time I was leaving a few other visitors had arrived, but the place definitely doesn’t seem to be well trafficked, or at least isn’t the thing to do on a sunday morning. it’s weekend hours are from 9-4:30, but it closes for an hour and a half in the middle of the day, I guess so the very minimal staff (a guy at the counter and a heavily armed - but amiable - guard on the front steps) can get some lunch. so, I left at halftime and walked over to the zoo, which is nearby.

the aurora zoo is much more popular on sunday afternoons than the museum, but not uncomfortably so. the wait to enter wasn’t more than a couple minutes and it was only that long because I foolishly got in line behind a group paying with a credit card, which caused some kind of confusion that I could observe, but not quite fathom. once inside the grounds I found a pretty wide selection of animals. it was tough to feel as positive as I would’ve liked, because while the inmates didn’t seem abused, neither did they seem particularly thriving. there’s quite an assortment of primates, who with the exception of one baboon happily receiving a pubic delousing, seemed sorta disgruntled. the other animals seemed accepting of their incarceration and a couple bathing grizzly bears actually seemed to be enjoying what maybe they feel is an extended tropical vacation. los jirafes were stoic as usual, but looked very impressive, being in the same area as the zebras and some goats, whose stature really showed off their height… also, because of the design of the enclosure they’re on the same level as the viewers and so really tower above you… unlike the LA zoo which causes you to look down at them from above. also worthy of mention was an african elephant that was doing a remarkable sort of balance beam routine on the concrete lip of the moat separating him from the viewers… whether she was ex of a circus, simply a bit of a graceful daredevil, or tragically suicidal, I couldn’t tell, but she pulled it off without a hitch… and then calmly turned around and retraced her steps.

I spent a couple hours there and saw pretty much everything they had to offer. the children on the bumper cars seemed to be the exhibit having the most fun, although the parents seemed to like watching the monkeys more. I felt particularly bad for the howler monkeys who were constantly pestered and provoked by thoughtless fathers anxious to have them howl for their childrens’ glee… oh well, couldn’t quite see a solution to that one.

the giraffes seemed ok and the llamas didn’t even notice they were in a zoo… I think. but I’ll bet all the animals look forward to closing time when the people go away.

so that was my sunday. I went back to the hotel, wandered around the markets for awhile and went to bed fairly early in anticipation of my early departure,

the next morning I checked out, had a nice goodbye with the friendly family son at the front desk and headed off to the bus depot. I was sorta dreading the six hour bus ride, after being so tightly squeezed during the four hour ride from san pedro, but surprisingly the bus ended up being very modern and comfortable with bucket seats which would’ve limited the squeezing had the crowd been greater, but as it was, there were at least a few empty seats the whole way.

we arrived in rio dulce early afternoonish, and I think I’ve already mentioned that I pretty quickly caught a boat to bring me about ten minutes downstream to this little secluded paradise. I’ve had a lot of relaxing experiences here, but I think will skip the details for now, but briefly – took a boat downriver to Livingston, which was a beautiful trip and a fun afternoon in town… maybe I’ll get back there if I have time later, but for now it was good for an afternoon to smell the saltwater of the caribbean, and experience first hand how different carribean guatemala is from the rest of the country. been doing a lot of swimming over the past couple days… my favorite place is to simply paddle a canoe a quarter of a mile or so, and tie it off at a floating dock and dive in… very simple and luxurious. I’ve become a pretty accomplished canoer if you ask me.

been drawing some pictures and taking some notes… I feel like I’ll be ready to get to work by the time I get back. the best part of being down here is that there are so few things that I can do most of the time that it forces me to do a lot of the things I probably woudn’t give time to if I were home… I’m looking forward to having expanded opportunities and options when I return to the US… but for now, I think I’m making the best of this.

by the time you read this I’ll be on my way to tikal… unless I don’t get around to posting it until after. and then, who knows where I’ll be… sweeping back down south I suppose.

lunes le primero de mayo

or not – on my way to tikal that is – I did stop off and check my email the other day in flores before heading to tikal, but I used the internet place’s computer and so, I didn’t post this. I’m optimistic that I’ll post it tomorrow though, which is why I’m trying to catch it up a bit tonight… although, I’m kinda beat after a long day of traveling, so I think I’ll skip a lot of details.

I left rio dulce friday morning and caught a bus to flores/santa Elena. the ride took about four hours, so I had some time in the afternoon to wander around and check things out. flores is very lovely, santa Elena is not, but both are worth wandering around in, even if the heat was indescribably hot/humid… I pretty much always had a 1.5 liter bottle of water with me, which I would pour in through my mouth and let seap out through my pores, and from there it would either form a slick and shiny liquid coating over all exposed areas of skin, and simply soak through the clothing covering any unexposed areas. weirdly, or maybe perversely, even masochistically I suppose, I enjoyed it… had I not had plenty of rehydrating agua pura handy, maybe it wouldn’t have been as pleasurable, but having my bottle always with me allowed me to feel a sauna-like cleansing… kinda like the euphoria that accompanies having your fever break, but without having to go through the inconvenience of being sick.

saturday morning I went up to tikal. it was of course, amazing. the monuments were everything I expected, and of course I expected them to be, having seen lots of photos and heard lots of descriptions. but what I hadn’t really anticipated was how tremendous the views from the tops of the pyramids/monuments would be, or how much I’d enjoy just walking through the jungle to get from place to place. it was great! needless to say I sweated through more clothing. I spent the night there, but the sunrise was to early to legitimately watch it from the top of the temple because the site doesn’t open until 6 and sunrise was at 5:15, so rather than abuse the park rules I skipped it… but only, I’ll admit, after some moral quandaric soul searching… that and the consideration of the dangers involved in ascending those rickety steps even in the best of daylit circumstances.

spent sunday back in flores. had some fun, made some friends, heard some spanish music. left early this morning and went to sayaxché. I liked it – dirty, dusty, hot, rickety… lots of unpainted board-paneled shacks with corrugated metal roofs – very similar to santa Elena, but smaller and more consistently impoverished… and just as hot. a strange sort of ubiquity of locals wearing “walker texas ranger t-shirts… couldn’t figure that out. I’ve come to expect “puma” apparel and orange crush signs and gallo everything, but the abundance of “walker texas ranger t-shirts” seemed unexplainable. I didn’t see any other non-guateltecos at all, which surprised me because I didn’t think I was that far off the beaten track. there really weren’t that many in flores either and now that I think of it, none in santa elena. of course there were a lot in tikal – mostly german, it seemed, but most of the tikal crowd were Guatemalan, and most of those school groups – having my sketchbook with me led to making friends with some of the students (both high school and college). anyway, I guess the peak tourist season is over – at least that’s what the guidebook says and the scarcity of people and the abundance of rooms seems to bear them out… not that the guidebook is immune to making mistakes… but those are other stories.

the book also tells me that the rainy season starts in may, so it might turn out that I start getting caught in downpours, but it’s hard to picture so far. I made it here to coban this afternoon and have done a little exploring. tomorrow, I’ll wander around some more and with luck, post this update. I’ve been very out of touch with everybody, so will try to catch up on emails too… this traveling phase of my journey doesn’t seem to lend itself to internet related activities as much as the staying put phase did.

so from here, I plan on heading to a sorta secluded sounding place called semuc-champey wednesday morning… it’s supposed to be really beautiful, and if it lives up (or even comes close) to the descriptions I’ll probably stay for a few days.

oh, bytheway I finally found a store (after lots of attempts, and just about giving up hope, and really only trying for the sake of persistence) that stocked the memory card I needed for my camera. it was kinda pricey, but it will be nice to take photos again. in the mean time, friends I met in rio dulce and went to livingston with named eitan and lital, sent the ones I've uploaded here. there are shots of the trip we took down the river, a crocodile that was in livingston, a happy family in livingston and this bonus shot of lital and a traditionally dressed woman (from antigua?) thanks for sending the photos guys!

2006-04-22T15:23:00.000-07:00

sabado, 22 abril

hmmm. saturday now. san pedro seems worlds away and a lifetime ago. the capital is very urban. both modern and anachronistic. parts of it feel very much like the 1950’s, but some of it feels like the seventies and some is right up to date, but with a central american twist. a lot of the businesses and brands that advertise on the signs are US companies. the clothes sold on the street mostly have catchy english phrases or American name brands – either actual or knock off, depending on the brand mostly I think, but if you want something designerish you can pretty easily get it.

also dvd’s and cd’s are everywhere as are lots of food choices if you’re willing to eat carne o pollo, which so far I’m not, but I’ve been really considering it. I looked around yesterday and couldn’t find any nearby restaurants that had a non-meat dish. today I expanded my search and tried to hunt up a vegetarian restaurant that was listed in my guidebook, but it musta moved or been closed on saturday… which seems like a strange idea, but a lot of the shops and restaurants are closed today. I’m not sure what to expect for tomorrow.

I got up bright and early after a really great night’s sleep. I was exhausted last night, after a few nights of revelry in san pedro, followed by the four hour tight squeeze busride here and then a day with little to eat – there is a grocery store down the street, and I think that’ll end up being my solution, I’ll just buy something there and bring it back to my room. anyway, last night was an early one. thought briefly about going out exploring and trawling for edible vegetarian food, but then it started pouring down rain and that made my decision for me. I don’t know how long the rain lasted, but I was asleep when it stopped. I woke up to a bright morning pouring in through the skylight at around 6:30 local time.

I should’ve gone out to breakfast. it was silly not to, because it’s probably the one meal that I could find a meatless version of, but it was too late by the time I realized my mistake. the thing was, I was in a bit of a hurry, and at that point was more optimistic about finding options. my plan was to walk to the popol vuh museum, which houses (according to the lonely planet, and I’ve no reason to mistrust them) the country’s best collection of mayan artifacts. it’s located all the way across town on the grounds of the universidad francisco marroquin in zona 10 (my room is in zona 1). on saturdays the museum is only open from 9am – 1pm, so I wanted to try to get there as early as I could. thinking the walk might take me as much as two hours, I wanted to get an early start. I really figured I could walk it in an hour and a half, but figured I should allow for confusion (which, of course, I’m prone to) as it turned out, I made it there in just a little more than an hour, maybe an hour exactly, whatever it was, I had plenty of time to read while I waited, but no place close by to get some desayuno.

the museum was great, very educational and inspiring. the explanatory cards that accompanied the pieces were in both Spanish and English, so I was able to practice my translating abilities as I went along. learned some interesting things about the jaguar and the maize gods, I particularly liked the depictions of the maize god with a corncob growing up out of his head, and also of him emerging (being born out of) the jaguar god’s mouth – that’s some good stuff! they also had a really interesting collection of ancient clay whistles in interesting shapes (animals, humans, plants) including one double sort of vessel that when one side was filled, the sculpted bird on the other side would whistle because it was constructed in such away that the process of filling woud force the air out – I guess you probably had that figured and didn’t really think it was just magic… of course maybe it is, I didn’t see/hear it demonstrated… I’m just guessing myself.

after the popol vuh, I let the lonely planet talk me into checking out the museo ixchel, next door. the authors loved it and said it was a must see, but I was pretty unimpressed. the only worthwhile thing about going was that if I hadn’t, I woulda felt like I’d missed out on something… so I guess that itself was worth the 25Q.

from there I retraced my steps back to the hotel room, which is in a building that reminds me of the kind of place mickey spillane or mike hammer would’ve lived in LA in the fifties. big, airy, dilapidated, with sitting areas and a bar downstairs. the room is the nicest that I’ve had in Guatemala, with a dresser with a mirror, two end tables and a queen sized bed. it came with a roll of toilet paper, a small bar of soap and a towel. the bathroom is just close enough and the shower is warm. it’s three times the price of my room in san pedro, but even at that it’s only a seventh of what my rent in Venice was… so that puts thing in perspective I guess.

I’ve spent the afternoon so far, exploring the city to the north of the hotel. the plaza de la constitución is there as is (I had hoped) a veggie restaurant. instead I just wandered around the plaza and through the stalls along the street selling various things. I checked in at one store that sells cameras to see if they had the memory card I need, but they didn’t… too bad really, because there’s a lot of things to take pictures of – good graffiti and signage all over the place. I never found the restaurant – I guess I mentioned that already, but I did finally give in and buy some papas fritas on the street.

tomorrow I’m going to walk even further – to zona 13, and go to the zoo and the museo arqueología y etnología, which, I just discovered when I looked in the book to check my spelling, is the home of the largest collection of mayan artifacts, although apparently they’re not well labeled, which is where the popol vuh gets the advantage on them – so popol vuh isn’t the biggest, but is thought to be better, if I have it right, which I might not. anyway, it should be a good outing.

my knees feel good, but my back hurts – in case you were wondering. my stomach feels great, if a bit empty. maybe this little enforced fast is being good for me.

the photos are leftovers from san pedro, just included here because it just seems better to have something other than words to look at___actually, it looks like no pics today. the place I found yesterday where I could plug in my laptop, was closed early today, which makes tomorrow not look promising. the good news is that I found a place where I can plug in and post this, but photos seem like too much to ask. oh well, that's more for later since the hopes of finding a memory card look pretty dim too.

2006-04-18T17:15:00.000-07:00

martes, 18 abril

today is my sister’s birthday. happy birthday liz!

the great san francisco earthquake occurred one hundred years ago today (my father, I believe has just recently delivered a talk, taking that event as its topic – I wish I’d been there). 231 years ago tonight, paul revere made his famous ride. my sister had nothing to do with either of these two events… as far as I know.

the weather is overcast and the town is quiet, having been abandoned by most of the holiday revelers and tourists. I’ll take it for now - it’s a pleasant relief, although departure is in the air, and as soon as I figure out the best way to do so I’ll get back on my way. this has been a pleasant way to spend a few weeks, the time has flown by slowly, like honey spilling from a jar… well no, not really like that at all, but you know what I mean, slow to experience but quick when recalled… like life itself, and with none of that sticky mess on the floor that you get with the spilt honey.

went out for a nice pasta dinner last night at a new place that I hadn’t been to before. it was very nice. lots of veggies on the pasta__ snow peas and portabella mushrooms that I wouldn’t’ve guessed could be found around here.

this morning of course, I had my breakfast at shanti shanti, overlooking the lake. the ingredients of the fruit salad are unpredictable from day to day, but always include some combination of watermelon, cantaloupe, pineapple, and banana. today it was cantaloupe and banana, which to my taste is the best of the combinations. eating breakfast is (always, I guess, but especially so at shanti shanti) an everchanging, everdifferent experience__ unique like a sunset or the view through a kaleidoscope. but it’s a creative act (even if consumption is at its heart), like painting a picture, or how I would imagine it would be to compose a piece of music… or maybe it’s more like the collaboration of two chess players. the game begins with the same series of moves that begins every game, but quickly, and almost magically, it deviates from previous paths through the exponentially expanding potential options.

the plate arrives along with the bread basket and coffee. the waitress, who is busy with work and obligations, is seldom as consistent with the early stages of this game, as I am, but her innocence and beauty make it forgivable in her. she sometimes sets the coffee down to my left and the plate to my right. sometimes it’s the reverse. usually the bread is opposite the coffee, but sometimes they are adjacent. regardless of her placement however, I invariably wait politely until she departs (not wanting her to, in anyway, think I’m disapproving) and then reposition each element in my preferred manner – which I believe dates back to the way she happened to place them my first morning here. this is as simple for me as positioning the pawns on the second row, the rooks on the corners and the queen on her own color. so, once the coffee is to the right and the bread to the left, and the plate between them and rotated so that the eggs are at seven o’clock, the play can begin.

a covered dish with sugar is on the table, in the middle next to a small vase with one purplish flower. I remove the lid and uncover the sugar. I feel a sense of urgency, knowing that this necessary first step must be performed quickly. I am aware of my responsibility, my obligation, my debt to future breakfast eaters. I must get a half teaspoonful of sugar into my coffee before any flies land in the sugar bowl. this is sort of a sacred duty and one I take seriously and can proudly state, one that I have never failed to perform successfully… it only just now occurs to me that it’s possible that others haven’t always obliged themselves in this same manner, and that possibly the sugar has been tainted through the complicity of their negligence and the flies’ diligence… but no! that cannot be, look at the purity of the sweet stuff – surely nothing has touched it but the clean stainless steel of the spoon.

this sugar is not like the sugar we have back home. not like the seemingly unnaturally white stuff that comes in the paper packets with the historical facts or homey greetings printed on it, not even like the brownish golden stuff that comes in the natural looking packets made out of 100% post-consumer paper product, or is at least colored to make me think it is – both the paper and the sugar looking very natural, like they come from santa barbara or one of those places up north (from an LA perspective you know), although I’ve been told that neither really is any more natural than the other stuff, and that the startlingly white stuff is closer to the truth___ the important thing of course being to steer clear of anything in a pink or blue wrapper. no this sugar is sort of off white, like the faded fabric of your grandmothers wedding dress, it’s a whiteness you can trust, not so ostentatiously white that you think it must be fake (even if it isn’t) and not so tainted that you wonder if perhaps the flies have gotten to it afterall, this is a white that announces itself as being beyond suspicion, unsullied by industrialization, bleaching agents, deceptive marketing strategies and prepackaging… and as such, it is the kings pawn to k4, of my breakfast ritual.

I daintily (yes “daintily” do you have a problem with that?) dip my tiny spoon into the sugar. I sprinkle its contents into my coffee, as if I’m sewing seed in an early vangogh painting (or is that millet?), aiming for a uniform dispersal and hoping my seeds descend slowly, because I must set down the spoon and replace the lid (both actions being done with my left hand) before the flies realize the sweet treasure has been left unguarded. that accomplished, my left hand returns to the spoon, while my right hand reaches for the tiny pitcher of milf (leche, we call it) which holds just enough to raise the coffee level one centimeter and turn it the perfect shade of brown (like the skin of a certain girl I used to know) as I stir it in. I do this in the same order everyday, partly because I theorize that it is better to put the sugar into the hot coffee so that it dissolves more readily before the temperature is cooled by the milk. in truth, the coffee is seldom so hot and the milk never so cool as to make any difference, but often it is preferable (simply for the sake of pleasure and security) to hold to our traditions even in the face of their lack of firm foundation.

so up until this point in my breakfast, I have relied on previously determined decisions, I have followed the tried, the trusted, the true (one hopes) path. the preparation of the coffee is the equivalent of the kings pawn move already mentioned, followed by the opposing pawn meeting it, followed by my knight threatening the opposing pawn… but what comes next?… the canvas is stretched and primed (I’m switching metaphors, but stay with me) now I must paint the picture. I glance up, and take in the view… this in itself becomes the next move, the first brushstroke. breakfast is not simply about taking in food, it is about taking in sights, scents, inspirations. so I look out over the lake. I notice the color of the water and the patterns made by the natural ripple of waves are met by the contrasting angle of the wake (is that the right word) left by a boat arriving from (perhaps) panajachel. I notice the lovely blue of the water close to me and wonder about the brownishness of it further away, and then realize that it’s caused by the reflection of the bare hill rising above the opposite shore. it takes much less time to see all that than it does to type it all out or, I imagine, to read it all in (we know my typing skills are not worldclass, and I imagine you’re all savoring these words, or at least stumbling over the awkwardly constructed phrases and incessant parenthetical interruptions) and so only a second or two have passed. my gaze falls to the plate as my left hand, having returned the spoon to it’s place on the saucer next to the cup, reaches for the napkin-wrapped knife and fork which were delivered atop the basket of bread. I unroll them and, placing the napkin in my lap, set them to the side of my plate while I make my first choice. the options are suddenly myriad. I could butter a slice of toast and place it beneath the eggs. this will have to be done before I begin eating the eggs, but there is nothing that says that my first bite need be egg, so I can put it off, if I choose. I could take the fork and spear a chunk of melon, and if so, ought it to be cantaloupe or water? (this morning, as I mentioned above, there was none of the latter, so that decision would’ve been made for me) I could have a sip of coffee, I could, but rarely do this early in the meal, butter and jam (strawberry, the perfect amount in a small ceramic dish placed on the plate, but at some point usually relocated by me). I could take the jam dish and place it someplace else, freeing up workspace on the plate, and often uncovering a small bed of shredded carrot. I could have a bite of shredded carrot, or a cucumber slice.

once the early decisions are made, a pattern generally seems to become established… a rhythm develops and the meal flows. one flavor suggests another, the warm saltiness of a bite of egg suggests the complimentary possibilities of a cucumber disk or piece of melon. the necessity of chewing might lend itself to the taking a moment to contemplate the lake, the sound of laughter from below the ledge, where women are washing clothes might break my revery enough to remind me that I wanted a sip of coffee. towards the end, consideration often falls to the balancing and combining of the elements__ a tomato slice and onion sliver, carefully balanced on an ideally sized square of toast and egg. and finally the anticipation and necessary planning of the ultimate morsel__ toast with jam? or is that two sweet? maybe some melon, or how about cucumber today? but finish the eggs while you think about it and then go with your gut (if you see what I mean). so, one thing leads to another and the course of the meal takes on a character of its own, resulting in an experience with familiar and general similarities to previous meals, but unlike any that have come before in the details. that’s what makes breakfasts and sunsets and people and the days of our lives themselves such beautiful and fascinating things.

well, ok maybe I do have a bit too much time on my hands afterall, huh?!

2006-04-17T17:26:00.000-07:00

sabado, 15 abril

happy birthday den, you’ve caught up to me again.

nothing much goin’ on, laid around in the hammock reading a tom robbins book (villa incognito) it’s not bad, but sorta the same old stuff. I think it just doesn’t quite live up to the captain corelli quality. but it’s fun to read and he is pretty clever, and what else have I really got to do?

the thing is, that for the past few years I’ve really been trying to live the life that I felt like I ought to be living, and I liked it, and a lot of the life overlaps with the kind of life I’d choose to live, but I think that by the time I get back from Guatemala I’ll be able to fully live my life again. it feels good to simply know what I want to do from moment to moment, and have the freedom to act on my choices.

domingo, 16 abril

happy easter… pascua de resurrectión, according to my dictionary, but I haven’t heard anybody say it… it’s more likely that they just mention the whole semana santa thing rather than just the day at the end. it’s a huge gathering, but things are kinda quieting down. pretty revelrous last night, but everybody up this morning for the procesión.

I finished villa incognito and then got back to work on studying/reviewing Spanish, which I’ve kinda been neglecting this week. d’noz, the bar/library where I’ve been borrowing the books I’ve been reading, is closed on sunday, as are the other places where books can be found, so if you finish reading one on a sunday, you’re pretty much out of luck until monday morning. just as well really, it’s good to have an excuse to get out of the hammock every once in awhile. I probably exaggerate the time spent lazing around reading, it is quite a bit, but I get out for a couple walks every day and spend a good amount of time mingling and exploring… nevertheless, the hammock is awfully nice.

as I was reading earlier (and it might have had something to do with the book more than the holiday, but the train of thought wasn’t clear, so who I can’t say) I was suddenly filled with an epiphanously elevating feeling, as I’d suddenly been absolved of and released from all guilt… the kind of guilt that you don’t even know that you’re carrying around until you notice its absence. it felt great, like I could do no wrong, like I was immune to life’s ills, like everything was ok, like maybe there was a savior that had actually died for my sins… so I guess this easter thing is an alright holiday afterall.

Cyril and Annette left yesterday and the new couple that took their room is from germany and not real personable… oh well, can’t win them all, and I’ve had pretty good luck with neighbors so far.

tonight I’ll head up to the allegre for the pub quiz, should be fun.

lunes, 17 abril

the allegre was fun last night. I’m really gonna miss this place when I leave. I’ve stuck around long enough to get pretty comfortable, and to have met enough people to sorta feel a part of things. in Antigua, I mostly just got to know other travelers, who were all transiently on their own schedules, but here there are a lot of people who live here, ao they’re more permanent, feels more like your leaving… oh well, it’s been nice being here, but it will be good to move on. my trip is half over now… it’s flown by, and yet seems like I’ve been gone for ages… I’ll bet the next month and a half really goes by quickly though.

the town is quiet again, and probably no moreso than the first week, but after all the festivities from last week, things seem very tranquil. very few people on the street, not much noise, it’s very nice really.

the german couple left this morning and have been replaced by an equally uncommunicative guy. maybe he’ll open up a bit if he sticks around. Stephanie leaves tomorrow for Honduras, I hope whoever moves into her room is fun, but if not it’ll make moving on by the end of the week that much easier.

there’s an interesting balance that must be struck between seeing both sides of a situation and nevertheless being willing to choose an opinion… the trick is to enjoy the decision making process and not to take things too seriously. I guess it involves a willingness to be wrong too.

2006-04-14T17:12:00.000-07:00

viernes, 14 abril

well, it seems like I’ve lost a few days to distraction and a disinclination to simply repeat the same old things. things have been pleasantly and relaxingly routine and more or less uneventful enough to allow me to relatively guiltlessly ignore my blogging obligations. however, it being the end of the week and a beneficent opportunity for writing, I’ll try to catch things up a bit.

if my grandmother was still alive, today would be her birthday, and I believe it would’ve been her 99th, but I’m uncertain of her age, because it was never a topic on which she was prone to elaboration.

in addition to that, today is also good friday, which must mean that one thousand nine-hundred and seventy-seven years ago today (give or take) jesus was nailed to a cross up on Golgotha hill where he later died for our sins, spent the weekend going to hell and back, then he returned to his tomb from where, sometime that sunday, he ascended to heaven, taking his body with him.

the locals love this holiday. the mayans were reportedly readily able to embrace jesus as one of their own when the Spaniards introduced Christ to them half a millennium ago. this was partly due (according to something I think I read somewhere, but forgive me if my faulty memory has mangled it) to the Spanish clergy who, in the interest of assimilation, allowed for a relatively liberal interpretation of scripture by these new converts, and also partly due to the similarities in the existing mayan belief system and symbology, to that of the Christians. the mayan people believed that they had been created by a combination of corn and water, and as corn people, they could easily follow the idea of a springtime death and resurrection. they also had from what I recall, a four pointed conception of the cosmos and cardinal directions, symbolized as a cruciform world tree, which apparenty allowed the Christian cross to seem familiar to them also and thereby embraced and understood, when the Spaniards arrived bearing that. the maya also had various blood letting ceremonies and so the last supper thing was right up their alley too. these days, not only are most of the walls decorated with pro-christian slogans (and a few anti-gringo/americano ones) but also it’s rare to see a pick-up that does not have decaled a Christian themed message on the upper part of its windshield___ and last weekend, most vehicles sported palm fronds tied to grills, wipers, rearview mirrors, door handles, handle-bars, and any other spot available. as I’ve mentioned before, I like the way the guatemaltecos enjoy their religion… even if it doesn’t quite satisfy all my theological hopes and expectations.

the festivities here in san pedro will be pretty subdued compared to what goes on in Antigua, but so will the crowds, which is why my craving for tranquility has led me here. however things are lookink more and more like the Venice boardwalk out there, completed with conga drums, fire spinners, jugglers, hippies, and of course stalls selling trinkets and t-shirts.

so let’s see, apparently I posted the last entry on monday. that evening I went up to the allegre, had a few beers, and watched narnia on their rooftop screen. you wouldn’t ordinarily think of coming to Guatemala for the movies, or at least I wouldn’t, but it seems that this is the place to come, to catch up on American cinema. several of the bars show nightly movies, simply exhibiting the dvd, projected onto a homemade screen. clearly that intimidating fbi/Interpol warning is not nearly so intimidating from a Guatemalan viewpoint.

narnia really wasn’t too good, I thought__ but for that reason I was all the more glad to have watched it down here for the price of the beer I accompanied it with. the following night or maybe wednesday(?) I saw walk the line, about johnny cash, a d’noz__ I liked that one much more.

I’ve seen a couple other movies and read several books here, as I’ve mentioned this place really lends itself to a sort of decadent relaxation, which I’ve mostly interpreted to be a lot of reading and talking (but mostly with fellow English speaking travelers, so my Spanish is kinda getting neglected). I just today finished reading captain corelli’s mandolin, which I really enjoyed. I’ve read some mediocre things recently too, but even those seem to have wonderful little insights hidden within them that make them worthwhile reads.

the current batch of neighbors include Cyril and Annette. He’s French and spent five years in the military in Africa, and she’s from Sweden. he eventually got into a motorcycle accident which caused him to spend a year in a wheelchair and abandon his military career, but is now fully recovered and has largely embraced a more pacifistic way of life, but definitely has been able to express some interesting responses to my questions about violence, which he sees as a necessary and important side of humanity.

the bartenders at the allegre have all learned my name, which I have to confess, I find irresistibly endearing, which leads me to spend more evenings there than I might have otherwise. nevertheless, despite the ideal nature of my circumstances here, I think I’ll be more than ready to move on by sometime next week. as the crowds gather however, I’m very glad that I found a comfortable spot in which to ride out the semana santa, because judging by the number of travelers stopping in here looking for lodging, I think rooms are hard to find and at a premium. and with lots of tourists, as well as many locals on holiday, I think that’s the case pretty much throughout the country.

I’ll try to get backing the swing of daily entries – although maybe those are too long-winded to make for interesting reading anyway, although I think I’ll be glad later to have the writtrn record of thoughts… if I ever bother to reread them.

2006-04-10T17:06:00.000-07:00

sabado 8 abril,

if arbitrary color usage is not really arbitrary… then are arbirtrary decisions in general really arbitrary either? does arbitrariness really exist? and if it doesn’t does that change the nature of the decisions we’ve been attributing to it all along. are human beings capable of discarding both rhyme and reason, and operating nonsensically, amorally, and randomly, without intent or agenda? it seems that we’re not. so maybe the focus should turn to what motivators lead to the decisions we make, rather than to simplistically attributing arbitrariness as being our only catalyst.

I remember in an art history class once___ I’m pretty sure it was judy george who was teaching it, she was discussing the fauves and she used the term arbitrary color usage. that phrase just didn’t ring true to me; those painters were clearly making color choices based on something – there was an esthetic intent that was apparent and revealed a certain consistency that belied arbitrariness. the phrase stuck with me though, and at times it irritated me because it seemed like such a lack of appreciation for what the fauves were doing, at other times however, it inspired me to try to pursue the achievement of arbitrariness… what if I could liberate myself from intention and reason?

I think however there is always a reason and perhaps, always a purpose behind the decisions we make, but these are not always (if ever) readily perceivable… the trick (and maybe the obligation) then is to see through the veil of obscurity and identify the causative elements.

this applies to why derain painted the way he did, as much as to why terrorists, presidents, and ceo’s do the things they do. and of course, why I am doing this right now… and why I will choose to do that later.

the day was pretty low key. it was cooler than usual and overcast, I spent most of it reading in the hammock, just wandering out occasionally for supplies.

domingo 9 abril,

is that true? I guess it is. seems like it must be later than just the 9th of april, time is going by wonderfully slowly here… I wonder if I’ll be able to keep it at this pace when I return… probably not.

it’s a shame… well, not really a shame, more of a drag, I guess__ about my camera. both because I keep seeing things I’d like to photo, and because I wanted to stop off in Antigua at the end of may and give it to alejandra as a thank you and going away present… maybe I can find a memory card… seems that giving it to her without one would sorta be worse than not giving it to her at all. hmmm.

my digestive system doesn’t quite feel right, and I’d blame it on Guatemala, but it was acting up before I left Venice, so that wouldn’t seem fair. hard to tell whether it’s gotten worse or is simply not getting better. I don’t think there’s much I can do from here though, and it’s not really that bad, just a little off. some days moreso than others.

I wonder if there’s anyway we could fix our failing political system. the very fact that bush could get elected___ the first time through deceit, and political manipulation, and the second time simply through the stupidity, fear, and prejudice of the constituency, who it appears did actually vote him into office that time___ shows that there is clearly something very wrong in our decision making process. the system is fallible and prone to foul play, and voters are easily misled. if we could somehow limit campaigning to written statements outlining intentions and platforms and then somehow hold elected officials accountable to their expressed intentions. it would be interesting to see what would happen if names and photos of the candidates were withheld… would women, blacks and other under-represented groups be more likely to win elections? it seems that people base many of their decisions on unimportant factors, but then__ who am I to say? maybe those choices are just as legitimate, or more so, as the ones based on the criteria I value… people voting for a president because they like the way he looks, or because they trust him to protect them might be operating more accurately (even if that leads them to choose somebody like bush) than somebody trying to weigh a candidate’s potential job performance and political tilt.

how does this relate to the arbitrariness question from yesterday? and the continuing theme of decisiveness in the face of overwhelming opportunities/options?

there are many less successful forms of government than what we have in the us, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have plenty of room for improvement… and it doesn’t mean we can’t look to other countries (denmark, norway, even canada) for ideas.

that’s enough for now… it’s still early and time for breakfast. I wish you were here and we could all have breakfast together at shanti shanti and look out over the lake on this lovely spring morning.

this is the view from the breakfast table at shanti shanti.

lunes, 10 abril

well, that is good news. I’d forgotten that I wrote yesterday morning, but I knew I hadn’t written last night, so I was thinking I was a bit further behind than I am. but here it is monday afternoon and I’m sorta caught up and all.

last night I went up to the allegre. I had run into anna the bartender earlier in the day while I was out for a walk and she was on her way to work. she mentioned the sunday night trivia quiz, so I decided to check it out. I did alright, with a little help from udi, but didn’t win the prize (beer). it seems the strategy is to form bigger teams, and I hadn’t caught onto that, so I just sat at the bar and answered what I knew and took udi’s advice when it sounded better than anything I had. it was fun, and due to the odd system of specials that they have there, I managed to drink four beers for the price of two, so it was quite an evening. udi, bytheway, is a friendly guy from tel aviv who I was thinking I’d mentioned in an earlier entry, but now I realize that maybe that was in an email to aliza, who is herself, currently in tel aviv, I believe (good rhyme, huh?!) anyway it was a fun evening, but resulted in my neglecting to write.

today, has been pretty relaxing. a couple walks, a lot of hammock time, some conversation with my new neighbors, as well as the remaining old one. I think I might go ahead and post this today, the internet place is closed on sundays, so I didn’t go up there yesterday, I’m thinking it might be worthwhile to relax and take my time and get caught up as far as the internet goes, a bit today. I usually try to get in and out of there in fifteen minutes, which is enough time to check email and glance at headlines, but loading the blog (at least with photos) takes longer… enjoy the pics now though, they’re gonna be running out soon, I fear.

speaking of reading the headlines, I’m heartened by the cia leak implications for both bush and cheney___ having just read that Nixon book I think I’ve mentioned, it’s clear that they had less on Nixon than they do on these guys and we know how that turned out… it’ll be interesting to see whether things fall apart as quickly for them as they did for Nixon once they start to slide downhill… I’ll be down here with fingers crossed, although still not holding my breath… one never knows, you know.

martes 4 abril

2006-04-07T17:17:00.000-07:00

martes 4 abril

I did all my really productive work this morning before I got up. hmmm. there’s not a lot of point to getting going before seven down here… don’t know if there ever is elsewhere either, unless you’ve got cows to milk… but I often am awake before that, and have tried starting the morning early, but the reassuring truth seems to be that just about everything can wait until after seven___ and, the breakfast spot I’ve mentioned doesn’t open until then and even if it did, it would be too chilly for comfort, the sun not having ascended above the volcano. I just mention this, because all of these factors were playing a role as I lay there deciding to keep my eyes closed and my body buried beneath my cozy blankets, while I gave consideration to our world, our concerns, and my future paintings this morning. the question that was in my mind, as I slowly slalomed back and forth between wakefulness and not, was this – when did the violence start? if you’ve been reading this, you know that my thoughts have been turning to “violence” lately and I’ve spent a fair amount of time considering its nature, and the role it plays in the way human beings live and interact. so, this morning, I finally got around to wondering about it’s roots. at what point did man first turn his aggression against his fellow man? at one point in our evolution did violence move from hunting to killing/murder? early on assuredly. chimpanzees have wars if I remember my jane goodall accurately, and on that point, I’m sure I do. I’m not sure if they eat the victims, but as I recall___ whether or not they do, the observations miss goodall made, made it clear that these were wars (I think territorially related – don’t quote me on that though) not hunting expeditions. so we can guess that proto homo sapiens, and probably even proto hominids had developed violent traits which they inflicted on their own species for reasons other than cannibalism. what about other animals?… I don’t know… what drives them to violence?… is it only predation? I don’t know… but I’m getting ahead of myself, I probably ought to do you a favor and rewrite these things sometime, so it wouldn’t be all jumbled up and disorganized… I’m sure you’re all skimming over this stuff anyway, looking for the action… “yeah, yeah, joe, enough of this pondering mankind’s inhumanity, what about the girls, man, the girls?”

anyway, as I was lying there with my eyes closed this morning, and thinking about the roots of violence, I suddenly laughed out loud at the startling (to me, anyway) realization of the archetypal story related to this question. I’ve spent most of the past two and a half years contemplating eve and the significance of that story, and her character, to our contemporary emotional being. and now, having completed that to a degree that allows me to move on, I’ve spent the last couple months focusing more and more on why we as humans seem intent on hurting each other and exerting our influence through violent means… these two themes, on first inspection, would seem to be worlds apart from each other___ and they definitely seemed so to me (and I was pretty smugly pleased with the breakaway step I was taking to tackle such an unrelated topic) until of course this morning when, in a flash, it dawned on me that I had only moved as far as from the apple and expulsion, to the violence and aggression of eve’s male offspring. cain’s killing of his brother is of course where my theme begins. so I really don’t seem to have leaped very far at all. and not only that, but I seem to be simply treading a path that is so well beaten that it’s written right into our cultural texts… makes me really wonder what a slave I am to this paradigm I’ve grown up with… and whether there’s any way to break free… and for that matter, any need to…

and it doesn’t mean that the Christians don’t still piss me off when I read the news__ not to mention those others of us that trace our common cultural roots back to eve and the boys___ and let’s remember that the impetus of this whole line of questioning were those Christians in northern Africa (right before I headed down here and began my current neglect of current events) who went on a rampage, rioting and killing the muslims that had gone on a rampage, rioting and killing the Christians because of pent up anger and frustration unleashed by a series of Danish cartoons… hmmm, well more of that later. for now, I think I’ll call it a night… well, not a night, but a late afternoon early evening, time for a beer and a movie sorta thing.

I hope you are all anger and fear free and enjoying a peaceful period of non-violence.

buenas noches.

miercoles, 5 abril

of course I’ve been thinking about this violence thing for longer than just two months, but it’s only been recently that it’s moved to the forefront of my thoughts, so to speak.

it wasn’t really until shortly after the world trade centers were destroyed that I recognized the extent of my pacifism. so many people, even in Venice, were filled with a sort of fear-driven furor, calling for a violent response to that violent act. I remember being immediately and completely certain that there was no way that violence would solve the problem and no justification for retaliation. I’m still shocked by the fact that never has anybody in a position of leadership looked for the underlying motive and cause of the wtc attack. dismissing it as an act of “evil doers” and then looking no further into it, is so childishly simplistic to me that it’s done more than anything else to disillusion me about the abilities of our leaders.

so, the northern africa thing after the danish cartoon riots was really just the culminating event… the straw breaking the bactrian back perhaps, or possibly the broken back itself… I guess the camel back was my unconscious awareness of all this violence which had become overfilled and needed to burst like over-filled balloon or floodgate – choose you simile… either way the stupidity of it all finally proclaimed itself to my consciousness along with the apparent inseparability of humanity and self immolating violence. earlier and heavier straws had already been loaded; the war to root out the mythic wmd’s or the destruction of the wtc, or maybe we can trace straws throughout our collective history all the way back to abel and cain, but somewhere along the line violence began and then sometime later, I took notice of it and wondered why it keeps recurring, despite it’s lack of success… why do we repeat the same unsuccessful cycles over and over again? that’s the question… and of course the even bigger one is… must we continue? is violence an essential and inseparable human trait or can we out grow it? the obvious answer is that it could never be eradicated, but on closer thought, I know a lot of people, who in normal circumstances are not prone to violence… there are factors that lead human beings to violence… can we do away with violence by doing away with those causative factors? maybe so.

gonna go over to a place called the allegre pub… maybe tomorrow I’ll write about something more interesting… and then again, maybe not.

jueves, 6 abril

just as I was thinking that maybe no clarity was going to come during my waking ritual this morning, my thoughts wandered back to the question of poverty and opportunity that I think I at least mentioned some time ago in this blog (just did a quick search for the keyword “options” and found it at the bottom of the 21 marzo entry). the crux of the problem was the relationship between the wealth of options balanced against the burden of choosing among them in our pursuit of the most worthwhile existence. the solution seems (and has to me for quite awhile) to point toward the necessity for arbitrary decision making and making the most out of whatever situation those arbitrary decisions plunk you down in, but the chaotic and pointless nature of that viewpoint doesn’t rest easily with me because it leads too readily towards hopelessness and nihilism.

but this morning there was a bit of clarity and let me see if I can backtrack a bit and try retracing my thoughtsteps.

lack of money (physical wealth) is often seen as a direct cause of unhappiness

this is as fallacious as the commonly held belief that the presence of money (physical wealth) is a direct cause of happiness.

because of these two beliefs, people often try to acquire money in order to attain happiness, and they try to avoid its lack, for the sake of avoiding unhappiness.

rather than being directly connected to material riches, wealth and poverty are in fact, more closely related to the presence or lack of opportunity and choice.

wealth is the

poverty is the lack of opportunity or the inability to see or act on opportunity.

the confusion that causes the beliefs mentioned in statements 1 and 2 above, is because opportunity often travels hand in hand with physical wealth.

the danger hidden in the beliefs mentioned in statements 1 and 2 above, is the expectation that the acquisition of physical wealth will lead directly to happiness – and the discouragement and disappointment experienced when it doesn’t. similarly there is the dilemma of, the expectation that poverty can be solved with the dispersment of physical wealth alone__ and the related disappointment that accompanies its failure to do so.

so to paraphrase summarily, we have at this point concluded that money cannot buy happiness, but that opportunity can

now the puzzle that I mentioned on march 21st centered around the question of (and if you’ve been following the above statements you’ll see that I’ve already added the necessary qualifiers to solve the puzzle – qualifiers that hadn’t occurred to me a few weeks ago) this; if the presence of opportunity relates directly to happiness (a sense of fulfillment or worth) why is it that an over abundance of opportunity can cause exasperation___ it seemed that too many options simply become overwhelmingly frustrating in the face of the knowledge that they cannot all be pursued.

my realization this morning centered around the idea that opportunity itself is not what brings us wealth, it’s the (as stated in statement 5 above) possession of opportunity along with the ability to perceive and act on that opportunity.

if overwhelmed by too many choices and unable to choose from among them, then we are as impoverished as if we had no choices or awareness of them at all.

we must have the ability to choose decisively in order to attain true wealth (happiness/fulfillment/etc.).

along this line of thought there is also the interesting situation, that I haven’t worked into the above (but is present just slightly beneath the surface), of seeing opportunity held by others (but not by ourselves) and the manner in which that vision affects us. an awareness of others’ opportunities can blind us to our own___ that is the sin of covetousness___ there is of course nothing wrong in covetousness itself, but the discontentedness connected with it stands in the way of our own acquisition of joy. that’s the part of this that I find very important and pertinent, because before coming down here, I felt myself surrounded by discontentedness___ discontentedness seemed to be pandemic throughout my community and the society itself. by coming down here, I hoped to find a society far enough removed from ours that it would exhibit an immunity to the plague of discontentment back home. I was hopeful of this because of the experience of having perceived the people in turkey when I was there, who had been removed from the temptations of western rags to riches dreams, seeming to have a greater degree of contentment than what I was accustomed to witnessing. but having come down here, what I’ve really observed is more discontentment, which I think is probably caused by a combination of limited opportunity combined with (through the presence of tourism and satellite tv) an awareness of the unshared opportunities had by others. I don’t think this makes tourism or satellite tv bad, it simply makes happiness more of a struggle to attain… these obstacles along the road distract us from the destination… or the awareness that we’ve already arrived.

viernes, 7 abril

gerri’s thirty five, paul gritsch is two-fifths that… together they appear to be a perfect square. good thing they’re not together, I guess.

I, on the other hand, am halfway between gerri’s age and her and paul’s combined total… but less than three months away from moving from an age divisible by seven to one that’s only divisible by itself… back into my prime so to speak.

you know, I can’t imagine that the second half of this trip can be as productive as the first… but who knows really what’s to come? I don’t think I really needed the full three months, but I’m glad I’m taking them, if for no other reason than to have had the need to return so distant that it’s given me an unhurried period of reflection.

here I am though, not yet six weeks into my adventure and I’ve pretty much accomplished all (and more) of what I set out to do. significantly, I’ve come to terms with both sex and money issues and feel comfortable and positive with both; I’ve had groundbreaking insights into love and relationships and my own past five years of avoidance; I’ve made outlines of what are likely to be the next two groups of paintings and begun considering how to accomplish those goals profitably; I’ve begun several amusing side projects and have made progress in Spanish__ even if I haven’t attained the level of proficiency I might like…; I’ve read several pretty good books___ it’s been a good period, and I do wonder what the second half of the trip will hold for me___ it will likely be very different, with a lot more moving around and, I suppose, looking into the past… what with mayan ruins and all.

the question I woke up with this morning had to do with why it is that I feel compelled to even puzzle out this violence thing… what draws me to it? and really, the even more compelling question for right now is, what drew me to the eve paintings? I’ve wondered that for quite awhile and still don’t quite feel content with the answer… why do I concern myself with the unhappiness and discontentedness and shame of others?… am I projecting my own unhappiness, etc. onto others and trying to heal myself through them?… I really don’t think that’s it… but am I trying to heal myself through healing them? that might be closer to it and even more embarrassing somehow (did you know that the Spanish verb to become pregnant is embarazar? or that pregnancy is embarazo, and pregnant is embarazada? that’s very strange to me) what am I trying to heal myself from? am I simply tring to find meaning in my life and does some part of me believe that meaningfulness lies hidden in these goals? maybe… maybe… I guess maybe this’ll give me something to ponder during the coming weeks, since I’ve already taken care of all this other stuff.

it wouldn’t hurt me to do some drawing to, I’ve been doing more writing and photoing than drawing since I’ve been down here.

____________________

later, still friday and about to post this. the good news is that I feel quite a bit better today, I don’t think I mentioned thaqt yesterday I was afraid I was coming down with something, but I think it’s an air quality issue rather than a viral one. hard to tell, slight sore throat and a little congestion… but don’t reallt feel sick… although yesterday did feel kinda feverish at one point… oh well, the main thing is that I’ve felt pretty good today.

so that was the good news. the bad news is that my camera is broken, or at least the memory card is kaput. that’s a drag because I’ve really been enjoying taking photos, although I was just mentioning this morning that I ought to be doing more drawing, so maybe that’s the answer… I’ll look into getting a new memory card too though, but that might be tough from down here, I think my card is pretty outdated.

after typing that morning entry above, I went to breakfast and then took a boat over to san marcos, it was lovely and peaceful. I wandered around for awhile, did some exploring and then decided to walk back to san pedro, which took a few hours but was a wonderful adventure. overwhelmingly beautiful… too much to take in really, which was just as well, because for much of the walk it was best to focus on my footing as I sorta blazed a trail along the lakeshore rocks… I managed to stay dry.

stopped off at the café azul to reward myself with an orange crush when I got back to town. now I’m gonna run up to the internet place and post this. I’ll have to start doling out pictures gradually.

2006-04-03T17:21:00.000-07:00

miercoles, 29 de marzo

well, I didn’t write last night, and I’m gonna let myself slide on it. the day flew past in a school’s out kindaway. had class, covered the future imperfect, which turns out to be much easier than the others. actually the past imperfect was pretty easy too__ it’s really just all the irregulars, especially with the present (preterate) that are a bit rough, and rougher having been kind of ignored by me lately with all the other info coming so quickly… it’s kind of surprising I remember them as well as I do.

anyway, after class I was filled with the elation of having the day to myself, with no tarea or awareness of class responsibilities for the manana. so, I headed up to the bagel barn to upload this blog one last time before stepping into the unknown connection realm of the lake (see above, of course for that entry). then headed off to café no sé and had two afternoon beers, which was unusually decadent of me, but I felt in a celebratory mood having successfully finished with four weeks class. had a bit of an interesting conversation with a very American-looking and sounding guy, who I overheard mention that he had grown up in Antigua. it turns out that his mother is a mayan archeologist, which I thought was sort of intriguing. he goes to college now in Montana, but is back in Antigua for spring break.

after no sé, I headed home and ate some dinner which amounted to finishing off my left over peanut butter and bread because I didn’t want to pack them or waste them. I had quite a lot of peanut butter because I haven’t been eating it much lately, and quite a lot of bread because that girl has such a great smile. so it was a pretty dense meal which had somewhat interesting digestive results later, but not too uncomfortable. I focused a bit on the salad today though, in order to balance things out.

while eating, I read a little downloaded news, catching up on the demonstrations in LA, the situation in france, the stupid things that bush and blair are saying, and the latest in the moussaoui trial… I should really try to stay away from current events, it’s an unnecessary inclusion to my day and an embarrassing addiction. so, after eating and reading, I decided I had time to write a quick email to liz before going out with my schoolmates for a fairwell fiesta. I typed away with a sort of rambling abandon, letting one thing lead to another and occasionally would glance at the clock to see how I was doing for time… forgetting that the cheap clock I bought for 5Q at the market on my first day in Antigua always stops at 8:10 twice a day. so when I finally finished the email and wondered what I should do with my next fifteen minutes, before I had to leave, I suddenly got a horrible feeling that I was late. which I was, but only by about fifteen minutes and the rest of them were late by twenty, so it all worked out. we had a lovely time and were out past one, and I didn’t get to sleep ‘til well past two, and had to be up by six. so I set the alarm on my reliably unreliable clock and it worked great.

got washed and teethbrushed and dressed, etc in time to get to the park to send the email off to liz. it turns out that 6:15am is a great time for connecting in the park, no glare and a good connection… maybe because of the angle of the sun(?) I dunno – no sé, you know? anyway got such a good connection that I actually got word from my dear but recently silent LA friends, so that was nice… I think maybe this blog is working a bit against me, because people feel kinda caught up with me, but forget that I’m not caught up with them… nevertheless, everything works out in the end, and for my distant (non LA) friends who are used to not being around, everything’s the same as it ever was… I s’pose. even denise says she’s discovering the joys of email… so that is something!

caught the bus uneventfully. foolishly had a cup of coffee before boarding, and three hours later upon arrival in panajachel, was pretty anxious to find a place to pee. got off the bus, walked five minutes more or less in the direction of the beach, found a nice little place for breakfast, ordered some comida and then asked for el baño.

read up on pana in the lonely planet while I waited for my food. after eating, went out in search of a room. turned one down for 50Q, was considering heading back to one I’d seen when I first got off the bus that had a sign saying 40Q, but found one for 35, which suits me fine… and has it’s own bathroom__ with shower (cold water, of course), which is very decadent and sorta unnecessarily wasteful to me after sharing both bathroom and shower for the past four weeks. I’m sure I could get used to it quickly though.

pana seems to be recklessly geared towards the tourist industry… almost to a discouraging degree. it seems to focus on shopping, eating and drinking. I spent the day doing quite a lot of browsing, a fair amount of eating and a little drinking (an orange crush, a bottle of water, and something called a cuba libre, which might’ve been rum and flat luke warm coke with a limeslice… all I’m sorta certain of is the limeslice, but I ordered it, so I drank it. mostly I took photos of the storefronts and shop signs which I love, with any luck they’ll appear along with this when I post this sometime soon, I hope.

I’m calling it an early night now, and going to try to catch up on last night’s missed sleep. finished the Nixon book finally and have begun Eleanor of aquitane, I think I’ll read myself to sleep with her.

domingo, 2 abril

well, I’ve got some more catching up to do. haven’t quite gotten into a post-antigua routing well enough to have kept up on this the past several days, but I think I’m turning the corner on that and will be back into the swing of things and maybe be even more of a regular writer now__ in the coming week anyway.

that last entry was wednesday. thursday morning I got up and went immediately to the pier to catch a boat to san pedro. I arrived and chose the first place to stay that I found for 15Q ($2) a night, so that I could get rid of my backpack and look for a better place in comfort. I had a lead on a place I’d heard about in Antigua, so I set off to look for it, but first looked for breakfast. I found a great place that has a wonderful desayuno especial (15Q before 9 and 20Q after) which I was so pleased with that I took a photo___ which with luck will appear here when I post this. the view from my table was lovely and the coffee was included. I read up a bit on san pedro and then headed off to explore. met a cute little girl who told me her name was lola and a fisherman friend of hers who’s name was renaldo (?). he started to introduce her as something else, but lola is what she wanted to be called and when I run into her on the street now she always greets me kindly with an, “hola jose!” and I reply “hola lola!” which rhymes appealingly, if a little awkwardly. I took photos of each of them and maybe they’ll get posted here also.

I explored the town for awhile, which rises steeply up the slope of the volcano. the touristy lower part of the town quickly gives way to a more expat midlevel and a thoroughly local upper area. the whole place has a wealth of spiritual graffiti covering the walls, some of which I photo’d.

stopped into a restaurant just for some water and spoke with a couple of guys; one from new hampshire, the other from nova scotia. the nova scotian (nova scot?) told me the directions to the place I was looking for and also told me of the place he was staying__ as it turned out, I never found either though.

had a good day of exploration and wound up back at my room after an early evening beer. the room really wasn’t great, with a screaming baby on one side and a congo player on the other and could easily have been enough to convince me to move on to a completely different lakeside town, but I felt I owed this place another chance, and it is beautiful.

the next morning I headed out immediately with a new place in mind and a willingness to try again to find the other places. the new place I’d chosen was full, and I tried another, but it was also filled. looked up the hill a bit, but really kinda had my heart set on the new place, which had some possibility of a vacancy at 11am checkout time, so I decided to have the shanty shanty breakfast special again (it was still before 9) and kill time ‘til 11. the vacancy never appeared, but I walked by a place with a sign out front declaring rooms for fifteen quetzals and I could see it had a shady courtyard with hammocks, so I decided on it (I forgot to mention that the other room had, in addition to all the noise, been oppressively hot). so that was friday morning and I’ve been staying here ever since.

for some unexplained reason, the entire town was without electricity all day friday until about 6pm, so exploring the internet situation was out. just as well, because I had lots more exploring to do. the hospedaja is called casa emmanuel, and I’ve gotten quite skilled at lounging in the hammock. I finished the eleanor of aquitane book and then found a place that for a 50Q deposit and 10Q a week (first week deferred because I donate the eleanor book) will lend books, so I began white teeth, by zadie smith, which it seems was getting a lot of attention a few years ago, but I hadn’t read. the current casa emmanuel guests aside from myself are three girls, two of whom just returned from a month of hitch hiking around Honduras (Rachel, from new Zealand and Rufus from England__ I assume that’s how she spells it, but I hadn’t really considered the feminine form of rufus before, although she wears it well). there’s also a girl from Colorado named samara. they’re all very nice.

this morning I went kayaking with Rachel and that was fun, and a great way to explore the lake. after that it was more laying around in hammocks reading. I’ve been studying a bit of Spanish, but probably not as much as I ought to. nevertheless the time seems to be passing pleasantly and thoughts for the future are continuing to come together.

yesterday, I found a place where I can plug my laptop in and receive email and upload the blog, which is great, because although I can email and blog from any internet place, it’s much nicer to be able to write from the comfort of my room and then just post when I’ve finished rather than having to type while I’m on the clock… performance pressure, you know. anyway, I worked out the system yesterday, which involves getting there right at 6pm to plug in, because there’s only room for one and it’s through a phoneline that’s in use until 6, and the whole place is closed on sunday, so if you’re reading this it must be after 6 on monday… that’s 4 in California, you know.

I’ve had some new thoughts about love and I know they seemed profound when I had them, but I don’t know if I can quite come up with the words right now… but perhaps it has something to do with a wider understanding of it’s nature. already thinking that after painting about violence and socio-ethics, it might be time to return to love… but I do probably need to explore other themes (in the paintings anyway) for the time being…

that’s it for now. I’ll try to write a bit tomorrow either when I post this or before.

lunes, 3 abril

I'm at the internet place and have had an easy day of relaxing and reading, I'm just gonna load a bunch of photos below for your visual entertainment... if all goes well, for the moment this seems like a good connection.

there are more, but they'll have to wait until next time. now, go write me an email. goodnight, it's time for una cerveza, here. oh, bytheway, figured out today that you people are on daylight savings time__ puts me only an hour ahead of LA, but two, behind the other side.

2006-03-28T11:50:00.000-08:00

sabado, 25 marzo, 2006

still running a little behind, it’s earlyish sunday morning, but I’m gonna pretend like it’s still saturday.

bagel barn for breakfast, actually just oj. emailed denise nine year felicitations, uploaded blog, checked a little news.

spent most of the day walking and looking for a place to have lunch. wanted something new, but nothing looked all that appealing. took a lot of photos on the way – doors, walls, sidewalks. wound up at “reds” in the afternoon, had never eaten there. ordered a beer and looked at the menu. asked for a numero treinta y dos (cheese sandwich with tomato and basil), but my accent is apparently so bad that the bartender thought I wanted a numero veintaidos, which turned out to be nachos with beans and cheese, not really a bad choice and so I at it anyway.

met a girl from San Francisco, had more beers.

the thing about hemingway’s violence is that it’s not really fear driven. there is an element of fear that he describes about when tracking or approaching a wounded animal, and that adrenaline rush seems to be one of the attractive elements he finds in the hunt, but fear is just an aspect of the hunt, not a driving force in its violence. fear played more of a role in the cruelties of henry II, richard and john; but even they were also responding to a certain disregard for the lives of others. each was trying to hold his kingdom together, so there was a certain fear of societal collapse, but there was also a greed and arrogance involved. like hemingway, they felt they had a right to take life, which represents a very different mind set than I think most of us adhere to today. nevertheless, there are many people who feel that the war and capital punishment are ok – which admittedly, despite my disagreement with that view, is a long way from the old English kings… although, the question could be asked in regard to hemingway’s actions, which seem so condescendingly and arrogantly cruel and callous, are they any worse than taking part in the atrocities of the meat industry (not to mention poultry) by eating steaks, hamburgers, etc… at least hem was hunting free range and trying for a “clean kill” (although not always succeeding).

are we advancing or are we simply applying new rules and methods to old cruelties. the headlines always seem to mention 30-50 something daily dead in iraq, there’s always somebody blowing a fuse somewhere and shooting there neighbor or office mate or fellow student. but, there are also countless people who are not doing these things and presumably think it’s right to not do them and are in control enough of their emotions and empathetic enough with their fellow beings, to not go out and recklessly kill or harm.

it’s very difficult to know what life was like in the past, what thoughts people had… we can read what some wrote, but they only represent a very small vocal minority. presumably most people have always been peace loving, but is that true and on what is it based… many have always seemed very ready to distinguish between the rights of their own group and those of an outsider. we’re in a position now to begin breaking down those tribal distinctions, but can people look at it with that big picture mentality? obviously some can, but what does that mean as far as majority goes?

apparently there were demonstrations yesterday in LA about the guest worker program and a bill that would make it a felony to be an illegal immigrant, interesting way to celebrate denise’s and my anniversary…

domingo 26 marzo, 2006

and it really is. sunday evening now and I’ll make a quick entry and be caught up after my negligent weekend of morning entries for the preceding day. found a new place for breakfast this morning, the menu said huevos al gusto, but they just made ‘em scrambled (revuelvos). I looked in both my dictionaries for the equivalent of, “overeasy” but it wasn’t there. it’s entirely possible that nobody has ever introduced overeasy eggs to the world’s Spanish speaking population… if that’s the case, then it hardly seems to be my place to let out the secret. I liked the scrambled, which came with black refried beans, a bit of cheese, melon and bread.

after breakfast, the sky had cleared a bit and I decided to walk up to cerro de la cruz afterall. I’ve been meaning to do that for awhile, but when I think of it there are always clouds blocking the top of volcan agua, and the main point to going up there is to get a good photo of the town with the volcano behind. so, this morning there was just one cloud in front and it didn’t obscure the peek, so I decided to go for it… afterall, there aren’t that many days left. the weather for the walk up was great, if a little warm. the sky stayed pretty good, but I got my photos taken pretty much just in time. by the time I was home, the sky had clouded up and the volcano was covered.

I’m happy with the photos I took, although they probably would’ve been better had I not lingered over breakfast… but of course, lingering over breakfast is one of my favorite things to do.

did I mention that the main reason I’m looking forward to being finished with Spanish classes is that it will give the opportunity to go out to breakfast in the morning? that sounds familiar, although maybe that was in an email I’ve written recently… hard to tell and I’m not about to go back through rereading previous entries to find something like that out… if I’m repeating myself, please simply forgive me and shake your head in a pitying way while thinking how sad it is that joe’s mind is already going… and he’s such a young man!

and good looking. I have to confess something... I am completely in love with the girl that works at the bakery. I’ve never had a conversation with her beyond the price of bread, but the way she smiles at me melts my heart. she smiles like she really means it, and her eyes light up and look right through mine and she shows me her soul while looking into mine. she’s lovely… I wonder what she’d be like if we shared the same language. as it is, my Spanish is getting better, but I do have a lot of practicing to do… especially if I’m going to be hitting on beautiful bakery girls.

after getting back from the hill I finished my weekend homework. yesterday I had done the exercises, but I still had to write a composition (using presente, preterito, y imperfecto tiempos) I wrote about my day, and that seems to have fit the bill.

then I went up and checked my email in the park, came home and dropped off the computer and then headed back out to have a beer and write a letter to mom and dad at café no sé. on the way, I ran into the procession and took photos.

the question I was asking myself at breakfast today is, how far away from violence am I? I mean, here I am wondering whether mankind can overcome violence or not, and wondering whether it’s necessary or worthwhile even, let alone possible, but feeling that a world without violence is a positive goal… anyway, here I am pondering this stuff and what’s to say that despite my best intentions I might do something violent. how threatened would I have to be before I reacted violently? I don’t know. how much of my pacifism is simply symptomatic of my privileged state of security? if I felt oppressed, threatened, helpless, frustrated, fearful, would I be a violent person? is the only reason I’m not violent because I’m not those other things? and if that’s the case, can we overcome violence by alleviating the existence of those other things? and would that be a desirable goal? and of course I am violent, not often and not physically, but I’ve definitely raised my voice in a violent manner when emotionally stretched.
tomorrow will be monday. in class we’ll finish preposiciones. and then tuesday will be the last day of class and afterwards I’ll go to the bagel barn to post this stuff and catch up on email before heading to the lake wednesday morning. I’ll probably be just as frequent on these postings from there as I have been, but it’s hard to tell. the nice thing about my situation here is that I can sit at home and type this stuff whenever I want, and then just go up and post it, but it’ll probably turn out that once I leave here, I’ll have to go and type it straight on to another computer, which’ll be kind of a drag… hmmm, I think I’ve already mentioned this stuff too… obviously, not only is my mind goin’ but what little I have is dwelling on problems of blog posting… but I’ve still got my good looks.

good night.

lunes, 27 de marzo

alright, to return to blog posting concerns, this will perhaps be the last leisurely posting for awhile… although perhaps not, I don’t know what to expect. but it seems likely that I’ll be writing hurriedly from internet café’s rather than comfortably from the sanctity of my own room.

no real matter, half the time I don’t write patiently and the other half I pay little attention to what comes out of my fingertips, so the change might not be apparent at all… except that photos might be difficult to include… I’m not sure how I’ll get around that one. I hope I can get a good connection tomorrow that will allow me to post a bunch of pics. I’ve taken quite a few over the past couple days and it would be nice to add them. if you see them here, I did, but if not, they might never make it.

school was pleasant. alejandra’s sweet. I’m pretty friendly with this batch of students, although a new batch arrived today that I wont get to know and the group I have befriended are all heading in various directions at various times this week. traveling relationships are pleasant for there ephemerality, but of course less than fulfilling for the same reason.

checked my email after class, got messages from both tim and liz with news about Harold__ in time for me to add a brief note to the letter to mom and dad, before walking to the post office to send it off. bruce won the current chess game, he snuck up on and and I never saw it comin’ took me a minute to figure out why the game wasn’t waiting for me when I went to the website… there was an invitation to the next game though, so I figured it out. I stopped off at the bank after the post office and got some cash to tide me over, not that I think there will be a scarcity of atms anywhere I’m going. came back to my room and did my homework, laundry and took a shower. then I headed back towards the park, snapping photos on the way. wandered through the cathedral, which I’d neglected to do unit now, treated myself to an ice cream cone, then walked over to café no sé for a beer and to make a to do list… it turns out that there seems to be surprisingly little I need to do between now and wednesday morning, and tomorrow of course, I won’t have any homework.

I’m looking forward to being down by the lake, not that I really know what to expect, but I’m hoping for leisurely contemplative days. a lot of things are really coming into focus, but as with the Spanish, I feel the need for more time to reinforce it all… or maybe to just laze around.

I’ve been enjoying striking up conversations… travelers are interesting to get to know and share viewpoints with… although those of us wandering around in C.A. are probably largely likeminded.

here’s a dream for you, and then I’ll call it a night:

it was a hot day. we were in the desert. both the ground and the sky were yellow. I loved you, and was certain of my love for you. I was willing to give you everything with no reservations… do anything… give you my all… trust you and know that you too, loved me.

there was a cold glass bottle of milk there. it had condensation covering its smooth, hard outside surface. it was sooo inviting… it looked so good and quenching/refreshing.

then I didn’t love you, or at least didn’t feel as certain of my love for you as I had.

I reached for the milk. the paper label on the bottle was soaked through from the condensation and it tore away from the bottle as the glue gave way and my hand grasped it firmly. I could feel the paper slip into a soggy mass between my hand and the bottle, but my hold was sure, and I knew there was no danger of the bottle dropping.

I unscrewed the red plastic cap and brought the bottle’s mouth to mine. I drank the milk selfishly, greedily, hungrily, gluttonously devouring it gulp after gulp, not pausing or coming up for air until the bottle was empty and the label was a pulpy wad___ and then I realized that you, the milk, and I were one.

more soon.

2006-03-25T07:05:00.000-08:00

Martes, 21 de marzo

Today must be the first day of spring up north. Here however, it seems spring’s been going on for quite awhile. I hear it’s “cold and grey” in London and has been chilly in Venice, and apparently there’s been some huge blizzardy thing all the way from Denver to Ohio, if you can believe that____ but here it’s lovely, and if anything a bit too warm on the sunny side of the street, and the shady benches in the park tend to fill first.

In class today we covered definite and indefinite articles, pretty easy and straight forward, but glad to have the lowdown on them, and glad to have the break, after yesterday’s lesson on personal pronouns, possessive pronouns, demonstrative adjectives and demonstrative pronouns, proved to be kinda tricky____ the difference comes down to an accent mark or a definite article a lot of the times, and so, to my untrained eye and ear, they tend to look and sound the same. Anyway, yesterday was a little rough, today was fine… no tellin’ what tomorrow’ll hold. I’m just trying to get through one more week and then I’ll take my notes and study up on my own, and I hope find somebody to do a little practicing with.

After class, I went to the bagel barn and uploaded the last installment of this. It took longer than I’d expected, because the connection was slower than usual, but eventually it worked and I was able to upload some of the photos from the procession on Sunday (scroll down of course, if you want to see them). Then I came back to my room, did my homework and then went and read in the park. Wound up doing more talking than reading, but that was fun.

That’s it for today I think. Been giving thought to the necessity of seeing our options in order to attain fulfillment mixed with the burden of seeing our options and needing to choose from among them. Nobles oblige, the responsibility of freedom___ again, not new areas of thought, but important ones to revisit. I think that the catch 22ish irony can be broken through, but it’ll take a little puzzling.

miercoles, 22 de marzo

the lights just went out, I hope that doesn’t last too long. I just got home and I squandered the charge on the computer this afternoon, so I only have 24%/17 minutes remaining. Hmmm.

It would be better if I was a better typist and didn’t need to see the keys to type. Ahhhh, there they go, back on, but flickering. Cross your fingers for me, but of course by the time you’re reading this it’ll be a long solved situation and won’t matter anymore.

What do I do with my days and where do the days go? It’s all wrapped up in learning how to live in a strange environment. I have it so easy and yet make it harder on myself than I need to. I spend my mornings at class and it’s difficult, but the time flies by. Am I learning anything? Yes, I’m learning a lot, but can I speak Spanish after three weeks of studying?… only haltingly and awkwardly, and I sure can’t follow the conversations between the guatemaltecos.

I’ve got a lot of studying and practice ahead of me. I shoulda come down here fifteen years ago, but who knew?

After class, I come home and take a shower, wash any clothes that need it, today was socks, yesterday was t-shirts. The lines are often used for drying sheets/bedding, etc. that edgar has washed, or else the personal clothing of other guests. I do my few things a bit at a time. Then I go and find lunch, either at a restaurant or the market or on the street from one of the women who makes sandwiches__ no carne, por favor – el pollo? No, no pollo, gracias, aguacate y otros vegetales. I go into a bar, as much to cambio un billete de cien quetzales, as to have the beer I get in the processs.

I go to the park to read, I walk by the stores and ponder the six foot tall pooh bear piñatas, wondering who’d have the gall to pummel pooh for the sake of his sweet internally hidden treasures. He looks so cheerful, never suspecting his fate… there’s another telling metaphor for ya…

Bought myself a new Spanish/Ingles dictionary today, again, using a large bill for a large purchase. The hundred quetzales notes are only worth thirteen dollars, but there’s no way to use them at the market, and even in the restaurants I frequent, they’re an imposition. Found a patinaed half centavo coin on the street today, face value US$0.00066, even here so worthless that it had seemingly been neglected on the street for years judging by the level of corrosion… the date was unidentifiable, but apparently from another era, which here doesn’t necessarily mean that long ago. Remnants of a more desperate and violent past are held over in the form of barred stores; with cash boxes, workers, and merchandise protected behind the barrier___ and impressively armed guards and policia on the streets, but the only explosions are the frequent celebratory firecrackers that are somehow connected with lenten rituals, never any gunshots...

Thinking… I guess I spend my time with that; there seems to be plenty of it to do. That and occasional conversations; politics with the guys, other stuff with the girls. Travelers though, not so much with the locals. Lots of Europeans around and interesting to hear there viewpoints. Northern Europeans mostly, lots of Scandinavians, who’da thought? If politically conservatives travel in this part of the world, they must be the older turistas or keeping their mouths shut… maybe that’s why the girls talk about other things… they might not be the leftists the male half seem to be.

Everyday I think I might walk up the hill north of town and look down on this place, but so far, I find the afternoon slipping by and it not getting done… mañana, tal vez, o viernes posiblemente. I keep procrastinating on buying scissors to trim my beard too. Easy enough to do, there are plenty at el mercado (finally just turned off the auto correct feature that keeps capitalizing things for me, whew) and I couldn’t bring any with me on the plane since I had no checked luggage (and scissors smack of terrorism, you know) and even with only my little backpack, I brought more than I needed. there are plenty of towels t-shirts and socks down here, and boy do I miss my flip flops. they’ve got those down here too, but I’ve been waiting still for just the right ones… then maybe I’ll throw my socks away.

you know, I’m not really that much of a leftist myself. I’m really more of an artist, but that’s a silly sort of political viewpoint. I just don’t agree with the prevailing means of conflict resolution, and the economic inequalities, but I’m not completely unwilling to work within the system, I just want to aim towards a system that doesn’t reward the mistreatment and oppression of the meek, kind-hearted and simple. or something like that. a lot of the misery in the world seems to be bred from ignorance and a lot of the solution it seems, should be tied to education, but that’s a big job and one that our planets schools seem poorly fitted to do.

I can’t really get behind the methods and the content of catholic schools, but the kids in the park sure do look sharp in their uniforms… see I told you I’m not so much a leftist. the people down here do like their Catholicism, although according to alejandra it’s really just the older generation that take it seriously whaile the younger just enjoy the ritual and tradition of it… I’m not sure if that’s an accurate appraisal though.

my knees feel good, and everything else seems to be working well, but this awkward little table and platic chair pulled up sideways to it, aren’t great for my back which seems to have a limited time of tolerance for typing. probably good for me, keeps me doing other things than proselytizing excessively on this blog.

hasta mañana mis amigos.

jueves, 23 de marzo

another day slipping pleasantly past. by the time I head home in a couple months I’m gonna be rarin’ to go. I can feel the enthusiasm building and the sense of purpose growing. so much that I want to do when I get back, and the thing about it is that there are a lot of things I can’t do from down here. there’s the vague sense of missing out on the action, but the overriding awareness that the things I’m spending my time with down here are difficult to do up there___ if for no other reason than all the other opportunities demand attention. this is the essential simplification and it feels good and is serving its purpose.

been reading hemingway’s green hills of Africa, of course it’s wonderfully well written, but more than that it’s a fascinating read as far as cultural ethics go. hemingway wasn’t a bad guy, and yet his completely taken for granted acceptance of big game hunting and the killing of animals in general for the simple sake of sport shows how dramatically social conscience can change. there’s no sense of embarrassment of self cosciousness about killing__ or even the good intentioned condescension to the guides and women. he’s a man of his time, molded by his experience and environment___ what will somebody think of my prejudicial and narrowminded viewpoints in a hundred years (if anybody bothers to pay attention to them. I wonder if this account of this little sabbatical of mine will remain hidden on the internet, waiting to be uncovered by some future surfer, and then as quickly be forgotten again on and on. or will our society collapse and with it our technology and all these virtual words become inaccessible in the apocalyptic future? hard to tell… today I feel optimistic, but that’s not to say we don’t need paradigm level changes to occur, it simply means that paradigms have shifted before and so maybe there’s hope yet.

bought some scissors finally, but haven’t trimmed yet… you just can’t hurry things.

did I mention that yesterday was all about the past imperfect? it was, had forgotten all about that, but it’ll come in handy. I think alejandra is trying to cover as much as she can as fast as she can, knowing that I’m leaving next week, that’s good, because I want as much as I can get so that I can study on my own once I’m out of here. for now, I’m happy if I can just keep my head above water.

seems like a lot of the people I talk with are either coming from cuba or on there way there. hmmm. so much to do, so little time.

g’night.

viernes 24 de marzo

it’s really saturday morning, didn’t get around to writing last night. I’m gonna head up to the bagel barn in a few minutes, but want to catch this up before I go. in class we finished up preposiciones except for por and para, which seem to be the confusing ones, or at least I always seem to guess wrong, but they haven’t been explained to me yet. we’re gonna cover those monday, then do future tuesday, and then I’m on my own. maybe I’ll find somebody to explain conditional and subjunctive to me someday, or maybe I’ll just speak around them. as it is, I’ve got plenty to keep me busy with studying for quite awhile.

yesterday’s realizations and thoughts centered around right action and the overcoming of the guilt I’ve associated with love, or my unwillingness, or inability to devote really, since gerri. both were good understandings. and while each builds on earlier thoughts, each is more nearly novel for me than anything else since I’ve been down here. for the most part, I’ve just been piecing together old scraps of understanding… but this concept of right action that I’m beginning to put together is pretty new. it might be what Buddhists mean by the same term, or it might be different, Buddhist right action has never really been explained to me, I just know that’s one of the steps on the eightfold(?) path. as far as the guilt thing goes, I knew there was guilt associated with the failed relationship with gerri, but I think I’ve been either not identifying its root or misidentifying it. the guilt I think is really not about the breakup, but about the effect the breakup had on me. more on these later, I’ve taken some notes and woke up in the middle of the night with new understandings fresh in my mind, which had to be written down before I could get back to sleep. but I think they demand more consideration than I’ve given them yet.

trimmed my beard almost down to my face. it makes my head hair look longer and kinda silly, but also makes eating less messy.

I’ll post this now and then I’ll add more to it tuesday before heading to the lake wednesday morning. once I’m at the lake I don’t know whether I’ll find wireless or not… but even if I don’t, I can add to this, but the entries will probably be more brief and irregular since I’ll have to do them on the spot, instead of comfortably from my own room. I’ll try to keep up with this account on my laptop though, and post it when I can.

2006-03-21T10:48:00.000-08:00

Sabado, 18/03/06

Of course, the thing is that I’ve known the answers all along, and I really didn’t need to come down to Guatemala to find them out, but maybe I did need to get away from home to reaffirm them and make sure I wasn’t off track. Of course knowing the answers doesn’t mean I can tell them, because that of course is the problem with language and communication in general…it’s only understood when it’s understood and then of course its pointless, except for the fact that we all like feeling that somebody understands us.

That said, life’s too short to spend any of it doing things that are not fulfilling, and while we might not be able to put our finger on what things are fulfilling, we know them when we do them and that’s all we need.

Love is imperative, and while we have no real control over whether others love us, we can allow ourselves to love others and practice opening ourselves to the love others offer. Remember, love is the good stuff___ love is the connection and the part that reminds you that we’re in this together… it is the awareness of our unity. All that painful heartache, loneliness and jealousy stuff is just fear and insecurity that we’ve been told has something to do with love, but in fact simply stands in love’s way.

There is an obligation to relationship. The easy way out is not always the most rewarding. There is a debt you owe yourself and the people you love, that cannot be shirked without loss of connection

A Violent response to a violent action has never solved a problem. I know some of you contentious types out there might be tempted to offer up examples of self defense and military aggression___ but I’ll repeat, a violent response to a violent action has never solved a problem___ at the most it has, kept the potential victim alive while turning him into a practitioner of violence and has left the problem unscathed, maybe even a bit more complex and expanded, but certainly not solved.

You cannot love and be selfish at the same time.

Money cannot buy happiness.

Living beyond your means causes anxiety.

Possessions often entrap us

We have choices about how we live.

Someday, we don’t know when, we’re each going to die. It would be silly to arrive at that day, look back and realize we have wasted our time.

Time is life’s commodity… that’s what we have, and we have it in a tragically short supply.

Clearly, beauty, like love, exists… it might be difficult to define, but we know it when we allow ourselves to see it… and if it didn’t exist, we wouldn’t be able to perceive it.

The real trick is to continually remember to notice the beauty… it takes practice and time and continual upkeep… the worst thing about meaningless employment is that too often it makes us too rushed to focus on the beauty around us. Even the most fulfilling employment can, if we’re not careful, distract us from seeing the beauty.

If read with insight, even the cheesiest of trash fiction can hold inspiring themes.

There’s more, but that’s enough for tonight. I’m not telling you people this, I’m just typing it out here to remind myself… it’s so easy to forget these things in the moment… and in the moment is when we need them most.

When I feel like I do tonight, I can’t imagine ever having a problem again… even though I know of course I will… maybe.

Domingo 19/03/06

Another weekend over, but I still haven’t even been here three weeks… the time seems to be flying, but it’s really going gloriously slowly.

Woke up early this morning but lazed in bed until almost 8. then I wrote some emails, and headed off to find some breakfast. I revisited the place from last Sunday, wanting to try the spinach omelet that I’d missed out on the first time. I did and it was good, but I think maybe the huevos rancheros that I wound up with by default last week was better. Maybe I’ll try it again next weekend.

After breakfast I walked to jocotenango, which is not too far away and watched the start of the procession, which was great because I got to see all the alfombras (I think that’s the word) the sawdust and flower carpets that the procession walks over. They were pretty cool, and not only did I get to see them, but I also got to see the process because some of them along the route were still being made as I was walking there. They start off with regular sawdust, which they sift out into squared off sections of ground (framed by boards. Then, over the plain sawdust they sprinkle colored sawdust for the background, and then finally they put down ornately cut stencils and sprinkle colored sawdust on that, removing the stencil carefully at the end. The result is remarkable. And then a little while later, along comes the procession and walks right through it. Boy, there’s a message there somewhere, I’ll let you find it. I’m very glad I got to watch. I took photos, I’ll add them here if they turned out.

I didn’t stick around too long because the sun was hot and I’m still a little burned from Friday at the hotsprings. So I came home, took a shower (refreshingly cool) and then did my homework. Later I took a walk, checked my email, wound up at café no sé for a beer. Listened to a little music there, one guy had a great stand up base made out of tin__ pretty neat.

That’s about all that’s worth mentioning I think.

I wrote the following reminders to myself on a notecard in from my pocket as I walked along today___ this is as good a place as any to transcribe them.

We are each as lucky as we perceive ourselves to be.

Life is as fair as we allow it to be.

Each of us, within our unique, limiting boundaries, have unlimited opportunity.

Nothing new there, I remember talking to ann about the first one almost twenty years ago, and to max about the third about ten years ago. The second one is just sort of an addendum/corollary, to the same old fairness statement from 1990. but it’s good to keep them in mind.

Several years ago, susan introduced me to a friend of hers named swami j, he was a nice guy and I enjoyed the one conversation I had with him. Occasionally susan would forward his newsletter to me, when she felt it would speak to some interest of mine. Eventually, I became a subscriber and I receive his frequent emailings. I admit, I seldom bother to read them, but I never throw them away… just in case, you know. Often when I do read them I appreciate the insight he offers. Anyway, today I happened to read the one he had emailed out, and it reiterates very clearly some of my recent thoughts. I was very pleased to have the affirmation of somebody else saying it. I’ll paste it below. Thanks swami j. oh now that I look closely, it turns out that it wasn’t written by swami j, but he is the one who shared it and that’s what counts. His website bytheway is (not surprisingly) http://swamij.com/

From: Perennial Psychology of the Bhagavad GitaBy Swami RamaACTIONS, REWARDS AND SINGING SONGS OF JOY

The human being alone has the gift of judgement, discrimination, and decision. Every action has its consequent effect, and the fruition of the action is ordinarily perceived as either a reward or a punishment. But one can choose to make a loving offering of the fruits of his actions for the benefit of others. Then one performs his actions skillfully, selflessly, and lovingly, offering the fruits of his actions for the sake of humanity. Thus he is constantly praying. Such prayer is actual prayer; it is not at all like the prayer of egotistical prople.Most people are motivated to do actions for the sake of receiving rewards. Attachment to rewards is a deep-rooted habit. Most people do not understand how to be selfless. Such human beings are rajasic. Reward-oriented people are very selfish. They suffer and they make others suffer. Perhaps that is one reason that the best of people have retreated to forest dwellings wondering, "Why do human beings still behave like animals?" After intensive self-study those great ones devised practical methods for transforming humanity, and they gave us their wisdom through the scriptures.Suffering comes when one is interested in reward. If one performs actions expecting rewards, he is bound to receive the fruits of his actions. The fruits then motivate him to do more actions, and in this way he finds himself caught in the whirlpool of life, never content, always seeking more and more for himself and ignoring or using others for his own gain. Actions done for reward thus create bondage. One becomes a slave to rewards in much the same way that the rat in scientific experiments becomes a slave to the pellet box, performing those actions that bring him a token of reinforcement. But there is a way to attain release from such enslavement: perform your duties skillfully and selflessly without attachment to reward. Then you will be free, a mukta traveling and singing the songs of joy without cares or fears.

Lunes, 20 de marzo

Three weeks as of tonight. Three weeks ago right now, I was at the coffeeshop with tim and denise. Shortly I would’ve been tying up last minute loose ends with michelle, then off to dinner, and finally to the airport with aliza. The time since then has flown by, but that evening seems like a lifetime ago.

I’m kinda tired this evening. Woke up kinda early and I think the cumulative build up of Spanish information is wearing on me. There are so many things I’ve got partially memorized, but need to stay on top of and drill into my longterm memory. It’s a lot to do.

I sent and received email in record time today. I seem to have lucked into a good connection in the park and was in and out in a matter of minutes, although in my excitement, I neglected to make a chess move, but I guess it can wait until tomorrow.

After the park, I came back here and did my homework. It took me almost two hours, so I’m glad I got it out of the way early. As a reward for my efforts, I went back to the park, bought myself an ice cream cone and then went to café no sé for a beer.

I stopped off for a little browsing at the market and bought some dinner. Headed home and have been relaxing ever since.

In moments of clarity I feel rejuvenated and ready to return to the united states and start the rest of my life. Those moments come and go though. Nevertheless, that’s pretty good for only three weeks, there’s lots more time for psychological and emotional preparation.

I believe my sight can improve upon even my recollected but lost childhood eyes… is it possible to take the best of youthful simplicity and trust and meld it with the insight of experience? I think it might be… it’ll take a good deal of letting go though.

2006-03-18T06:04:00.000-08:00

Martes, 14/03/06

Palabras positivas y negativas hoy en la clase, manana nosotros comenzamos el tiempo para pasada.

Which I think means that we’ll spend the next three days doing that, and then wrap it up in time for the weekend. We’ll see. I’ve got a lot of memorization to work on, and while I’m not really falling behind, I am having more and more stack up for continual review, which makes things sorta dificile.

After class, I went to the bagel barn and uploaded the past several days of blog, but couldn’t get any of the photos to load. I don’t know whether it was a server problem or a connection problem, but either way, I blew an hour and a half in the attempt. I can’t complain, it’s amazing I can get a connection down here at all. I’ll just be thankful for that, and let the rest slide.

I walked around for awhile this afternoon, studied and read in the park, walked some more, took some photos___ moving from walls to doors these days, I mostly like the surfaces and textures (and colors of course) of the deterioration.

Contemplating multi-media next art group… painting/sculpture/drawing/book body of work. bible/history/literature content along with thoughts of future direction. I’d like to puzzle out and experiment around with method ahead of time… of course that seldom seems to work. I’d like to stretch canvases and I’d like to play with wood/plaster/burlap sculptures… Maybe I’ll just paint landscapes.

Went to no sé for dinner and some studying. Came home and made flashcards for the stuff from yesterday and today. I’m a bit concerned that I might get slammed with a lot of info tomorrow, maybe not.

Drew some pictures this afternoon, need to draw more, haven’t been doing it. Drawing today made me feel good. Tuesday night drawing at the Y, wonder if Tim’s there.

That’s it. Goodnight.

Miercoles, 15/03/2006

The tricky thing about being in a foreign country… well one of them, is figuring the ins and outs about purchases. I mean you can just be a tourist and stay at the hotel and eat at the restaurant, but not only does that get old after a week and a half, but also it seems to miss the real experience. The reason I want to learn Spanish is so that I need not feel as much an outsider as I do. I’ll probably always feel to some degree an outsider here, because I don’t have the features of the locals and because even in Venice, I feel like an outsider.

I’ve got access to a kitchen here, but it’s not much of one and preparing meals for one always complicates things. It usually ends up easier, quicker and more satisfying to go out and get something at a restaurant. But, having sampled a wide variety of places to eat in Antigua, and being a creature of habit, lately settling down to just the few favorites I’ve chosen, I felt like maybe I was taking the easy way out. So today, I went to the market and bought an avocado, two tomatoes and some lovely soft freshly baked rolls (all for a total of Q2.50 (33 1/3 cents)) and brought them home and had a great lunch.

I wonder what other culinary bargains and experiences are out there. It’s embarrassing that it’s taken me two weeks to start experimenting on this stuff, but there are an awful lot of good restaurants to try and I have been exploring other parts of life here. Nevertheless, I think this is going to open up a whole new door to discovery for me… and the girl at the panaderia down the street has a lovely smile…

Past tense seems to be going quite a bit quicker than present, which is good, but I still am going to have a lot of work to do. I’m able to catch more of the conversations I eavesdrop on, but the speed at which the locals speak still leaves most of it a mystery to me. Alejandra speaks nice and slowly for me, although I guess she’s speeding up a bit, but still speaking clearly. Today was the beginning of the third week. Hmmm, all of a sudden more than halfway done. More past tense tomorrow and then on Friday normal class ends at 10:30 (instead of the usual 12 noon) so that we can all head off for a day at the hotsprings. Should be fun.

I just wrote an email to liz, and this chair is not the greatest for extended sessions at the computer, so I think I’ll call it a night and read myself to sleep. I picked up a history of the Plantagenets the other day___ I left off with Henry II’s death, but there’s plenty more where that came from… it’s kinda interesting, it’s an older book and I think historians tend to be more receptive to Eleanor these days, at least I’ve always kind of liked her… I’ve never been able to make up my mind about Thomas a Becket though.

buenas noches.

jueves, 16/03/06

I’ve been wondering for awhile now why it is that children so often seem so much happier than adults, regardless of circumstances. I think teaching at the school planted the seed of that thought, and I remember it rising to the surface when I watched born into brothels which showed kids in an exceptionally difficult environment, but although they struggled, they nevertheless found time to be kids and have fun. The adults around them however were somber and bitter, and yet were often only maybe only ten (or fewer) years older than the kids. I wondered as I watched… what happens between childhood and adulthood to drive the joy from our lives?

Now, I’m not saying that adults aren’t ever joyous and that it’s easy being a kid, because I know neither of those views would be accurate, but you rarely see an adult experiencing the joy that is commonplace for a six year old. For that matter though, you seldom see an adult throwing an impassioned tantrum. It seems that the range of emotions is more extreme in children and the obvious explanation seems to be that as we grow (mature?) we develop the ability to control our emotions. Clearly, being in control of our emotional selves has its advantages when it comes to the practical side of life, but I look at these joyfilled kids and wonder if the price is worth it. Emotional control is not easily turned on and off… we become so adept at suppressing our emotions that we forget how to feel them… perhaps we should focus more on experiencing the extemes rather than protecting ourselves from them.

Of course it could all be the chemistry of childhood and adolescence that makes the difference… hard to say.

There is something wonderfully uplifting about watching children play.

It might also have to do with hope, possibility, optimism and a disregard for the immanence of personal mortality.

And then there’s love and faith issues… which children (in their youthful wisdom) seldom ponder.

We finished the past tense today, although I guess we’ve got something to work on yet for the first 2 ½ hours tomorrow. Then we head off to the hot springs; should be fun.

I really don’t know what became of the day… explored mostly I guess. Wandered around, watched children playing, read for awhile, ate an apple, did my homework… and here it is, time for bed.

Goodnight.

17/03/06 viernes,

tied up a few loose ends concerning Spanish past tense in class and then around 11 headed off in a brightly painted bus for the hot springs. The springs were a bit unlike what I expected. They were natural thermally heated springs, but the water was contained in what amounted to a concrete swimming pool with a gravel bottom, through which the water entered. There was a small stream of water that ran next to the pool, but that was a sclose to a natural looking setting as it got. Nevertheless the area around the spring was mountainous and beautiful and the day was pretty and warm… maybe a bit too sunny___ I returned with a pinkishly burned face. I was smart enough to put my shirt back on after an hour or so in the sun, so the rest of me didn’t get scorched.

The day was nice and was made up of maybe an hour in the pool and then a few hours sitting around the edge, drinking cervezas and talking with the other students. There was a guy from Holland, another from Israel, the three Norwegian girls, a girl from Australia, an American from Oklahoma and I. I enjojed the talk, it was pleasant to speak at length in English, I guess I haven’t really done that since the last evening of scrabble with nyama and jaron. I’m sorta torn between wanting to avoid English and wanting to communicate easily and fluidly. I guess that’s ok. A little harmless internal conflict just adds some spice maybe.

We got back around 4. made vague plans with some of the others to meet up later for st patrick’s day beers, but I ended up, taking a walk, buying some food at the Mercado, trying to check my email, but couldn’t get a good enough connection__ managed to upload a letter to anya, but couldn’t download anything except 34 pieces of spam, out of ninety emails… probably most of the other 56 were spam too, but you never know___ hidden amidst that spam are often a few gems from loved and missed frinds. So I’ll try again tomorrow and see if I have better luck.

I’ll maybe go to the bagel barn in the morning and try to upload this. I’ve got a lot of studying to do this weekend. Hmmm, after this weekend there’s only one weekend left before classes are over. Seven more days of class, next Tuesday will be it. Time’s flying by.

I hope all of you are doing well.

Goodnight.

2006-03-14T10:32:00.000-08:00

3/18 update, successfully added the photos, check 'em out!

Viernes, 10/03/06

Happy birthday to tami and grace.

Class today was partially a fieldtrip to a small church just a little to the northwest of town. Walked over there with alejandra and a couple other groups of students and teachers. It was a nice walk and through a section which I had missed previously__ I thought I had just about covered everything. The walk took us past the men’s prison, and on the way back we saw the crowd of women waiting their turns for visiting hours, muy interesante.

The church was interesting too. It was small and damaged, but not apparently as old as the big colonial churches in town. Might’ve been within the past century even, but none from our group knew. This is a special Friday for this particular church because the procession on Sunday will leave from there, so there were lots of people, school children, and even a tv crew and a print journalist with a still camera. Also, outside the church were all sorts of food venders selling everything from avocados to domino's pizza.

Inside the church a scene was set up with painted figures and a full-sized Christ mannequin in the middle. In front of this, on the floor was a beautifully ornate dyed-sawdust carpet, surrounded by offerings of fruits and vegetables. placed directly on the carpet, was a duck(?) sculpted out of a watermelon.

We returned to school with enough time left to cover the presente progresivo tense, which finished out our week on the present tense verbs. I believe that next week we move on into the past… if you see what I mean.

My cold’s probably getting a little better, but it still hasn’t gone away, and despite the fact that it’s Friday night, I really just want to go to bed early… so I will, because I can. Maybe tomorrow I’ll see if I can find nyama and jaron once more before they skip town. My real intent for the weekend though is to study and get healthy.

Geez! I’ve only been here eleven days. Seems like ages, and yet it’s flown past. Tiempo vuela, you know.

Sabado 11/03/06

I’ve felt much better today. Got ten hours of sleep last night, and it felt great. The past few days when I’ve had to drag myself out of bed to go to class, I’ve felt like I could sleep all day, if I just let myself. This morning I was determined to last as long as I could in bed, and I made it until 8, which was only an extra hour, but it made a world of difference. I slept all night, straight through and comfortably on my stomach with clear sinuses, so that was an improvement.

I guess it wasn’t quite straight through, because I remember waking up at one point (or maybe two points) from dreams, but getting right back to sleep. This change of surroundings seems to have really jumpstarted my dreamworld. My dreams have been utilizing a whole new cast of characters since I got here. Friends from LA show up everynight as do family members. It’s interesting to me to see what archetypal sorts of roles my unconscious mind assigns to my various friends and how many different, and sometimes contradictory roles, to one of them in particular… I’ll leave you hangin’ on that one. I suppose that while it seems like I’m making the adjustment to being here pretty smoothly (and probably more importantly, the adjustment to not being in Venice) I guess that maybe my unconscious mind is frantically working to cope with the uprootedness of it all. Maybe the reason that I seem pretty relaxed consciously is that my unconscious is keeping so busy. Hmmm…

Anyway, weirdly enough had two dreams about gerri last night. Haven’t dreamt about her for a longlong time, as far as I know. But there she was. I don’t remember it all, but the first had something to do with us being together, we had a baby and I had just gotten out of grad school. We were loading a suburban with our stuff in preparation for a move to someplace where I was going to have a job. Hmmm… The second dream had us in a store. Gerri wanted to buy a coffeemaker that I didn’t think we needed, but she wanted it, and I couldn’t talk her out of it. We got to the counter and she discovered she didn’t have any money, so I paid. There was a man standing next to the counter asking for a handout, I reached into my pocket and found my orange spray painted pen. I thought it was a different pen, one that I wasn’t so attached to, so I handed it to him, realizing too late that it was my favorite one instead. I briefly thought about asking for it back because my heart ached at the thought of losing it, but then I realized it didn’t matter and I just let it go. As we were on our way out of the store, I saw Joni.

Well, at least my unconscious seems to have remained consistent on the role it’s assigned to gerri___ although I’m not at all convinced the dreams had anything to do with her… perhaps just what she’s come to represent. Dream interpretation is tricky stuff, you know.

So I spent the day taking a few walks around town, in between which I studied Spanish verbs. went to the market, which is even bigger than usual on Saturdays, went to some stores, looked for interesting books to read, wound up at café no sé around five for dinner. Had a couple beers there and then headed home.

It was a good day. And I feel almost 100% healthy.

Domingo 12/03/06

Woke up feeling great! I’m almost glad I had the cold, just so I can revel in my health now that it’s returned. I feel great! I took a shower first thing, which was kinda brave of me, because usually I like to wait until the afternoon sun has heated things up before getting drenched with cold water, but I’d skipped a shower yesterday and really felt like starting the day off right. It was invigorating and not as bad as I might’ve feared. I’d slept in until 8 again, and so the sun was that much higher in the sky and the night had been warmer that others we’ve had lately.

Did my homework and wrote an email to aliza and then went in search of breakfast. Found a really nice little restaurant and ordered a spinach omelet. They were out of espinaca though, so I wound up with huevos rancheros, which were agreeably different from the huevos back home. Yum!

Took a long walk back, snapped some photos on the way. Fuego looks like it wants to erupt again, there were clouds around the cone that might’ve been smoke, but I’m too much a novice to tell, either way, it’s kind of exciting being around volcanoes.

Later in the afternoon, I headed off toward café no sé but ran into the procession on the way. I snapped a bunch of photos as it went by, and then decided to walk home and upload them, so that I’d have more room left on the camera if I ran into it again on my way home. I’m glad I did, because I did run back into the procession a few hours later, and I had wanted some shots at night rather than daytime, so I was able to get some of both. So after clearing off my memory card, I headed back out to café no sé.

Once there, I read for awhile, until it got too dark and then I just sipped my beer and wrote some thoughts/plans/intentions down on notecards. Most of the things I was writing were focusing on the next group of paintings/artwork… what I want to aim for, how I want to do it… where I want to head and what I hope to accomplish artistically. The plan that has begun to form, which isn’t really that surprising, because I was leaning this way even before leaving Venice is that I’ll head back to Cincinnati for a few months… maybe four or five, and work on another group of paintings/sculptures/writing. The only new part to the thought is the realization that after that, I can still return easily to Venice for awhile or longer. I’ll definitely come back to exhibit the paintings, but I don’t need to disallow myself from living in Venice again just because settling there seems hard. I don’t really know, I guess, but it seems likely that maybe heading to ohio for the summer might be the way to go. There are a lot of things I’d like to do and a lot of places that seem attractive to be in.

The paintings themselves will maybe be historical, maybe illustrative, maybe more broken apart and simple of form… maybe more poetic and … hmmm, I don’t have the word, but I think I sorta know what I’d like to shoot for. I’d like to look to humanity and try to understand our motivational force… what drives us/ has driven us to do the things we do/live the way we live? What distinguishes those who seem to succeed in attaining fulfilling existences from those who don’t? what will the future hold? And is this another cycle of civilization repeating similar historical precedents? Or are we living in a time with enough novel features that it might lead to a novel future. And is that future a hopeful one or not? And is it up to us to decide___ and if so, how can we best choose hope? I’d like to look for lessons from the past, and I’d like to try to determine some sort of believable value/belief system to fill the lack I think many of us feel. I suppose that’s a tall order, I’ll aim high and settle for what I can do, but I would like to give some thought as to why many people live in a manner at odds with fulfillment and joy. I’d like to give some thought to the root causes of anger, frustration, and violence. Is there a better way of managing society than the ones we’ve tried?

Big questions and too early in the process to narrow them down, I suppose the theme is growing pretty naturally out of the eve paintings, but I think the form will be a departure… I hope so, I feel the need for a change.

Anyway, I had a couple beers at no sé, and then walked home, finding the procession on the way and getting my night shots. Now I’ll read and get some sleep.

G’night.

Lunes 13/03/06

Back to school today. Didn’t start past tense but briefly covered the futuro idiomatico, which was pretty straight forward and then spen the rest of the day with fifteen different “palabros interrogatives” which also were not real difficult, but it seems like maybe they’re more difficult than they need to be. I think I’m ok with them though. I just finished reviewing them… all of this stuff requires a lot more practice than I’m giving it, but there’s always time for review.

After class I was gonna go up to the bagel barn to upload these blog entries, but I ended up skipping it. Instead, I went for a walk through the market and around the southeast part of town. Took some photos, picked up a couple books from the free place, dropped the one off that I’sd finished. One of the ones I got today is called The Fall of a President, put together by the Washington Post staff in 1974, pretty interesting so far… I can’t believe they were able to get rid of their president for one little B&E, and we can’t get rid of ours for outright lies and deception. Oh well, people do their best, even when it turns out bad… or something like that. I’m not sure that people want to be saved from the suffering, I’m pretty sure saviors don’t get thanked… or something like that.

Bought some paper, bought some colored pencils, bought an ice cream cone, checked my email, sat in the park, watched the highschool kids making out, continued my walk, came home, did my homework.

We’re still out of drinking water here___ ran out maybe Friday, maybe Saturday, but I think Friday. I don’t know why it hasn’t been replaced. Last night I was really thirsty in the middle of the night… realized that I don’t know when I’ve been really thirsty and unable to quench it like that. I didn’t like it, but it was a good experience.

Went to ceviches mex for a burrito and a cerveza. Read the Nixon book.

Wondered whether art is really an appropriate method for what I want to accomplish. Wondered what can art accomplish? Wondered if there is a better method/medium. Wondered if it’s possible to provide hope in the face of despair. Wondered if there is a realistic hope, a believable hope… something that can actually be believed by rational minded children of the scientific/digital information age.

I wondered what leads humans to violence. And I wondered some other stuff too.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll post this. Goodnight.

2006-03-10T11:07:00.000-08:00

Lunes, 06/03/06

Whew, I’m tired. It’s been a lovely end to a longish day. I struggled through class this morning. Lots of information and it’s tough to keep up. I’ll make it though, but there’s a lot to remember.

Came home after class, relaxed for just a little while and then headed up to the Bagel Barn to check email and upload the blog and website, and whatever emails I’d written lately, but I’ve lost track of that… there might not’ve been any, I’m probably falling behind, but I should be able to catch up tomorrow, no matter how rough class is.

Spent the afternoon in my room studying, and then went to a place nyama knew about, called café sky, and watched the sunset. I’m kicking myself for not always carrying my camera around because the rooftop view from there is incredible. I’m definitely going to frequent it around sunset time as opportunity allows.

Now I’m back in my room and will study a bit before bed, but I’m beat. A week ago I was enjoying my going away dinner at the rudnick’s and being and being ferried to the airport by aliza… it seems so long ago and so far away… well it is far away.

When I let myself, I miss you all horribly, but I don’t often let myself… just when I’m very tired.
I’ve got to take a picture of that volcano from the rooftop… volcan agua (I know, sounds kinda oxymoronic, I’ll explain it one of these days though), haven’t mentioned it yet, but it’s an interesting story and a fantastic landmark and awfully handy when it comes to knowing where south is.

Hmmmm, goodnight.

Martes, siete de marzo

Funny how these days really get away from me, you’d think I’d have all kinds of time on my hands, class is only four hours in the morning and even if I spend a couple hours with homework or studying (and aside from yesterday, I seldom do) that ought to leave plenty of time, but it really doesn’t. I mean obviously I’m taking it pretty easy and the Spanish thing is really a lot of effort, but boy does the time slip by.

Class wasn’t so rough today, so that was a relief, nevertheless it’s a pretty steep learning curve I’m on, reminds me of learning to deal craps because so much of it is not just learning, but practicing so that it becomes second nature, which is tough to hurry… it just takes time and immersion. Oh well, enough of that.

Went for a burrito after class and study time, took a walk, got some cash from the atm, checked my email in the park, but didn’t respond, just downloaded it for later. Came back here, read for awhile and studied verbos. Headed off around 6:30 to meet nyama and jaron at café no sé, had a couple beers and a game of scrabble. Jaron’s suffering from allergies, partially he thinks brought about from the altitude and volcanic activity___ two of the three local volcanoes have erupted a bit in the last twenty four hours. Anyway, makes me feel a little better because I’ve had a bit of a sore throat today and have been worried I was catching the cold that seems to be going around__ a lot of people at school sneezing at me, etc… but now I’m hoping I’ve just got some kind of volcano dust throat, which matches the symptoms of feeling like I just smoked a whole lot of cigarettes (which I haven’t). we’ll see. I’d hate to get sick, so I hope it’s just the volcanoes.

The sky was clear and the stars were bright and beautiful tonight as I walked home. That’s all for now, I’m gonna get in bed and read for awhile. I wonder what all of you are doing right now.

Miercoles, ocho de marzo,

I can’t believe I’ve got a cold. The sore throat got worse all night and by an hour into class this morning, I was sneezing. I learned that the sneezer says, “pardon,” and the sneezee says, “salud.” So I got that much out of it. On my way home after class, I stopped off and bought a couple liters of jugo concentrados de naranja.

I walked up to the park to download email. I’ve got the system figured out now. I sit at the bench to the southeast of the central fountain, turn on the computer, send and receive my email and then pack up and head home. I get about seventy pieces of spam a day, so if I skip a day it takes quite awhile to get it all, and the longer it takes, the greater the risk of getting disconnected, and when that happens the whole process has to start over. It’s a good excuse for an afternoon walk, which I’d take anyway, and even though the glare makes it all but impossible to see what’s going on on the screen, it’s better to do it during the day, I think. Antigua seems pretty safe, but I think it’s probably a reasonable precaution to not carry my laptop around at night… ne sense in tempting fate… or thieves.

Anyway, I grabbed my email__ had very nice letters from aliza and michelle, they made me feel good, appreciated and missed, which on a day like today, having my first Central American cold and being loaded down with a whole stack of handmade verbos de cambio flashcards to memorize, I really needed.

It’s not quite three, I’ve gone through the flashcards twice, but I haven’t done my homework yet, I guess I should do that now, but maybe I’ll take a nap. The water’s off for some inexplicable reason, which is a drag because I’d like a shower and I was planning on doing laundry. The laundry can wait until tomorrow though, because I do have one more clean shirt___ but it would be nice to be able to flush. Hmmm. My tolerance fades when I’m feeling rundown.

The good news is that even though my nose is runny, and I’m tired and achy, the sore throat is gone! I hope the rest of the symptoms pass as quickly. I can’t believe I didn’t pack all those leftover emergenC packets… not too mention a few rubberbands, binderclips and more notecards. Live and learn.

later: water's back on, whew!

Jueves, 09/03/06

I’m feeling a bit better today, but still under the weather. I slept a lot and pretty well last night and that helped. Struggled to get up and go to school today, but once there, I felt pretty good. Class wasn’t as hard as I'd feared, only seventeen irregular verbs and they weren’t too bad. I’ve got a lot of studying to do this weekend though___ and a lot of convalescing. Gotta be better by Monday, that’s my goal.

Tomorrow Spanish class is a fieldtrip to a church, practicing conversation on the walk there. Should be good. Alejandra suggested I bring my camera.

Tonight it’s time for bed. It’s not really late, but I’m beat and need the sleep. Sorry for the lamo entries the past couple days. they'll get better once I'm healthy.

G’night.

2006-03-06T11:20:00.000-08:00

Viernes 03/03/06 (I’m changing the dates from mm/dd/yy to the Guatemalan standard dd/mm/yy, but subtly on a day like today when nobody’d notice, crafty huh?)

Hoy es la dia tres de clase de espanol. I’m definitely learning a lot in Spanish class, but I’m really gonna have to spend some study time this weekend memorizing vocabulary. I’ve been pretty much just writing the new words down and focusing my evenings on the verbs and sentence structure, so vocab is my weak spot, although a lot of it is fairly obvious. My homework this weekend is to review the things we’ve covered so far, which are; llamarse, ser (origin), estar (animo), tener (familia), estar (localizacion), ser (descripcion), quien, gustar, tener, querer, ¿A que hora…?, y conecer plus all the vocab, which are a list of commonly used words, emotions that go with “estar”, family relationships, places and locations, physical descriptions, articles of clothing, days of the week, food (separate lists of staples, vegetables, and fruit), states of being that go with tener, months, and times of the day and year. It seems like a lot and it is, but I think it’s manageable. I don’t have a lot of other obligations right now, but I am hoping to get out for a little morning exploration both days over the weekend and tomorrow I’ll need to wash t-shirts and socks early enough in the day so the sun will dry them in the courtyard. I want to be well prepared with the topics we’ve covered the past few days because alejandra has already warned me that we’ll start in on piling on present tense verbs Monday, and I anticipate that’ll be some work, although pretty valuable stuff.

After class, I went to the Bagel Barn and checked my email and posted the first few days worth of this blog. I think I’m gonna have to resign myself to the Bagel Barn being the best wireless connection in town. I think I can maybe just upload and download email in the park during the day, even if the glare makes visibility difficult, and stop by the bagel barn every so often to upload this… we’ll see. I was happy that I’ll be able to post photos along with the text, I really wasn’t sure that the connection would be strong enough. As it is, it was strange being online and able to see the screen and able to get to web pages without losing waiting for minutes and usually losing the connection along the way. I was able to pay a little more attention to my chess move with bruce, than I have been, I was able to check in with grace, and I was able to read my emails instead of just downloading them for later viewing, which was a luxury, but not crucial. What I didn’t do was spend anytime clicking on any of the enticing headlines, I think I’m just gonna go ahead and let the world get along (or not) without me for awhile, I don’t really need to keep up on what’s goin’ on out there. let me know if anything big happens.

After that, I finished my book in the park, was hoping to run into jaron and nyama, I was going to give her the graham greene book, but I didn’t see them__ they might’ve already left town, I’ll carry it with me on my walk today though, just in case. I was so engrossed in the book, that I almost missed the procession carrying the jesus statue, but noticed the music just in time to walk over as it passed. I wished I had my camera, but I’ll remember next week, I think they do it every Friday during lent.

I came home and answered a few emails, which I’ll try to send off tomorrow from the park, or at least sometime this weekend. Then I went over to the burrito place and had a burrito and a beer. I watched Spanish subtitled Saturday Night Fever on the TV, and marveled at how young John Travolta used to be… time flies. I learned that according to the subtitles anyway, the Spanish for “far out!” is “fabulosa!” The movie didn’t hold my interest for too long though, or perhaps I would’ve added more words to my Spanish vocab list, instead I ended up talking with a Canadian couple who have been traveling since September and are about to head home. They encouraged me to check out san pedro when I get a chance, so I probably will__ my itinerary being pretty open to suggestion these days.

I had thought of going over to a bar after that, but the conversation kept me at the burrito place longer than I’d expected and so I just headed back here, deciding to save the bar for Sabado en las noches.

hasta pronto mis amigos.

Sabado 04/03/06

Alright, it’s really Sunday afternoon, but I didn’t get around to writing yesterday. I had a nice relaxing Saturday though. Headed out early, anticipating a sunny walk, but found it raining, which almost caused me to change my plans, but as it turned out the rain was a gentle misty kind of precipitation and simply felt like being sprayed by a refreshing full body spritzer. I wore my jacket because it was cool beneath the overcast sky, and a bit damp due to the sprinkles, but I had a very comfortable walk. I explored the southeast part of town, which I’d neglected until then. It’s home to a number of churches, which are majestic despite their dilapidations. First I found La Iglesia y Convento de Santa Clara which was built between 1702 and 1734, it has a beautiful little plaza in front of it with a raised walk and a fountain connected to a long row of centuries old cement wash basins that are still used for doing laundry. I wish Venice had something like it, it would save me from having to lug my duffle bag up to the Laundromat at Lincoln & Rose (or really, I guess it would just save michelle from having to lend me her car), as it is, we have a similar, but less ancient, rippled cement sink here in our own courtyard, where I’ve been discovering the simple joys of hand laundering__ brings out the amish in me. It helps to only have a few garments, thereby necessitating frequent launderings. The weather here is well suited to solar powered line drying, but I wonder what people do during the rainy season. Speaking of which, I didn’t take many photos on my walk because of the rain today, but I couldn’t resist snapping this shot of a horse and carriage out front of the convent.

From there I continued walking South, kind of aimlessly, because I hadn’t really read up on this stuff before heading off. I pretty quickly found La Iglesia de San Francisco, which was built in the 16th century and is also in pretty bad shape, but nevertheless still impressive. I bought some cashews and strolled around, I think I’ll go back some other day and spend more time there. Neither church survived the 1773 earthquake, which wrecked most of Antigua and brought an end to the city’s time as colonial capital__ rather than rebuild, the capital was moved to Guatemala City.

After that, I headed home, by way of Parque Central, where I stopped to relax and read up a bit on what I’d just seen. Once home I worked on my Spanish for awhile and then headed back out to explore. I walked North this time, because I had read that there is another little town a kilometer or so away and that there’s a hill with a good view of Antigua. The day being overcast, I wasn’t going to bother climbing the hill, but I wanted to check it out and also see what the other town (Jocotenango) was like. I had a nice walk and it was good to get out of Antigua a bit, but there wasn’t much of interest aside from more Guatemalan scenery, which was pleasant enough in itself, but not demanding of comment__ or maybe I’m hurrying through this a bit to get back out and wander around some more.

After that walk I headed back up to Parque Central and had lunch at a nice little restaurant with a pretty courtyard. The rain had let up for awhile, but I sat beneath the roof anyway. I had Tortillas Fundado con queso y ajo__ which, probably not surprising to most of you, was an interesting and enjoyable variation on the cheese sandwich.

After Lunch, I went back to my room, optimistically did a little laundry, although the rain soon returned, and finished my homework (mi tarea). Then I read for awhile and fiddled around with the new flash intro for my website, which I’d started last week in Venice, but hadn’t had time to finish.

In the evening, I walked over to the bar down the street and ordered a beer and was agreeably surprised to find that they were having a special deal, where they provided a complimentary small bottle along with the normal sized one__ so that was nice and kept me there for awhile longer than I’d planned. It’s a nice place for a beer and the people are friendly and it draws a sort of international travelers kind of crowd. I can see myself becoming a bit of a regular there, but I don’t think it will particularly help my Spanish studies much, there are quite a few English speakers there to distract me.

After the bar, I came back and went to bed, which explains why I’m writing this on Sunday afternoon. This evening I’ll try to write today’s entry, but now I’m off to look for some lunch (el almuerzo, don’tcha know).

Domingo 05/03/06

Happy birthday Brandon! Geez loueeze, you must be fifteen, where does the time go?

Sundays are big market days here in Antigua, so I wandered around, mostly just checkin’ it out, but keepin’ my eyes open for the perfect (or close to it) pair of flipflops. Not much to choose from, but that’s ok. Snacked on an bocadilla aguacate con tomate y lechuge. Got a little lost within the covered part of the market, but I’m starting to get my bearings in there… the trick is that you move away from the fish section and look for the shoe section and then you’re home free.

After the market I headed over to the park and downloaded my email, it took me three tries because I kept losing the signal and each time I have to start from scratch because the server doesn’t wipe the emails until the whole group has been downloaded… which is probably a good precaution, but makes it tough with temperamental connections. I think I’ve finally figured out that the bench to the southeast of the central fountain is the best place to sit for a good connection__ I’ll keep experimenting. Tomorrow I think I’ll go to the bagel barn, so I can upload this and post the new index page, etc for the website, I feel negligent still having the one advertising the show up there.

Spent some time copying down Spanish vocab words in the park and then came back here and read lonely planet for awhile, beginning to make plans for post-Antigua adventures. I don’t think I’ll stick around here after the end of the month. As tempting as the holy week/easter festivities sound, I think I’ll be better off getting on with seeing some of the rest of Guatemala… a month will be plenty of time for now in Antigua… I can always come back.

I caught up with yesterdays blog entry and then headed off in search of food. I wanted to try out a restaurant that lonely planet had mentioned. It was over in the southeast part of town that I had wandered to yesterday, but I decided to take a little different route so as to check out a few streets I hadn’t seen yet. It was a nice walk and a found what looks like a good bookstore just before I got to the restaurant, so I browsed around there a bit. Then went to the restaurant, but it was closed___ I don’t know if that’s a permanent thing or just Sundays or just today… hours do seem to be kinda random around here, and I can hardly complain about that. I decided to head over to ceviches mex (the burrito place by me) but I paused to write a note to myself about the bookstore. As I was writing it, I suddenly heard nyama’s voice behind me. It was good to see her, although I felt bad for not having the graham greene book to give her___ I think it was the first time I’d wandered the town without it since I’d finished it. Anyway, we talked on the street for awhile and then went into a restaurant which she’d already been to and knew that not only did they have good food, but also scrabble. So I had a burrito and a couple beers while we played a game of scrabble, it was a lot of fun.

After scrabble, I walked nyama back to her place and then began heading home, but almost immediately ran into the street procession, blocking the road like a slow moving ninety car freight train. It was worth the wait though, with Guatemalan roman legions, dressed in rag tag armor, walking rhythmlessly along in scattered and distracted formation, stopping to chat with friends or taking calls on their cell phones__ actually, the two, whom I saw talking on cell phones weren’t the romans they were the clergy, some dressed in royal purple, pointy-hooded cloaks that made them look frighteningly klan-like. The big float was carried precariously by twenty-five or thirty men and boys, it kinda tottered back and forth as it went, but they held tight and forebore bravely___ the float itself was magnificent with Christ carrying the cross as an angel looks on, both of them surrounded (appropriately from a Guatemalan perspective) by flowering corn stalks, one of the smaller floats was carried solemnly by black clad women, who seemed to take there duty much more seriously than the men (who seemed to be having quite a bit of fun getting to be the center of attention, and doing their spiritual duty all at once). This was all accompanied by a thick cloud of incense, and the music from a tuba heavy brass band marching (ok, wandering) to the beat of a snare drum, followed by (and somewhat drowning out) a man pushing a noisy electrical generator (to light the floats) on a three wheel cart spewing out puffs of black smoke that mixed surprisingly well with the incense. It was fantastic__ very carnivalesque in every way (oh, except I guess carnival was supposed to be over last week__ well whatever, these people seem to know what they’re doing). At the end came the municipal workers dressed in matching yellow shirts and armed with brooms and shovels, cleaning up the path and throwing la basura either directly into a dumptruck, or into the front shovel of a slow moving back hoe, which was bringing up the rear. It was wonderful, I can’t believe I went out without my camera. From the sounds of it though, I should have lots more chances even if I do skip town before holy week. Sum it up to say, these people know how to throw a lent!

By the time the parade was gone, I’d somehow gotten turned around, and it took me a little while to find my way, which was complicated by the sense of urgency I felt to pee after having my two scrabble enhancing beers. But, it all turned out fine in the end and I found my way back, peed, have typed this, and still have plenty of time to study a bit before bed.

Buenas noches.

2006-03-03T11:00:00.000-08:00

Tuesday 02/28/06

There was a long line leading off to the Taca desk when I walked into the airport. Luckily, instead of just hopping right onto the end of it, I asked a security guard if it was the line for Lacsa, and he told me no, that Lacsa was using the Virgin Air desk down a little ways to the right. The line there was pretty long too, but at least I didn’t have to wait in both. The very friendly woman at the desk, when it was at last my turn, reseated me because she said my assigned seat was between two people, she asked whether I wanted an aisle or a window seat and after some internal debate, I decided I’d rather risk having to squeeze past people if I had to pee, than miss any sights out the window. She really did me a favor as it turned out, because I had the whole row to myself, which was pretty luxurious. I began reading the Graham Greene novel Dov had given me only a couple hours or so earlier, just before leaving Venice, partly to keep my mind off the people I was leaving and partly to keep myself occupied until take off – it’s a kind of a morbid side of me I suppose, but I always like to stay awake until the plane is in the air, for fear that it will explode on takeoff, and although the ultimate result would be the same, I’d hate to sleep through my own death. Once the plane was up (successfully) I stuck with the book through the first chapter and then stashed it inside my jacket and closed my eyes. I guess I must’ve gotten some sleep, because the flight seemed to go pretty quickly, although it didn’t really feel like I ever managed to drift off. I opened my eyes after awhile and discovered the sun rising through the clouds as I looked down at it from above. It was intriguingly beautiful from that angle.

On the seat next to me were a couple scraps of paper, which I ignored, and a little packet of “aero chips” which were kinda puffy and crispy, and of a familiar but unidentifiable flavor. I flipped the pack over and found that they were platanitos, which was translated for me as plantain chips – there I was, not even off the plane and having a new culinary experience and language lesson all at the same time! I finished the chips, which weren’t great, but were salty and so, had the strangely addictive quality common to their breed. I watched the lush and undulating landscape pass by beneath me, but decided I shouldn’t get my camera out of my bag that I’d stashed away in the overhead compartment – probably a silly decision; those out of the plane-window shots would have been nice mementos.

I glanced down at the scraps of paper that had been next to the chips, and discovered they were my entry papers, waiting to be filled in by me. By that time, the plane had begun its descent, and so I hurriedly filled in my primer nombre, segundo nombre, and primer apellido, and then hoped they’d forgive the blank spaces labeled segundo apellido and apellido de casada. I wished I’d paid more attention to Spanish naming conventions, but it was too late to worry about that then, and I was too busy digging out my passport number and looking on my boarding pass (which had become a bookmark, now that I was thinking it was off duty in its official capacity) to find out what my flight number (numero de vuelo) was. Luckily there were good translations of the longer questions at the bottom of the form, so I was quickly able to write a zero in answer to, “how many minors or legally incompetent persons are traveling with you?” but I glanced around the cabin with an appraising eye just to make sure my answer would withstand any scrutiny at the customs desk. I felt certain I had no live plants or animals with me, and was fairly confident there weren’t even any dead ones, so that got a “no” as did the rest of the questions because I suspected that " no" was the answer they wanted, in order to make both my life and that of the customs agent easier.

The landing was gentle and quick after briefly swooping in over prettily painted houses and factoryish-looking buildings. We deboarded (debarked? got off? dismounted? left the plane, you know) and walked a little way and found the line for customs. Things went quickly and I was greeted pleasantly by a young woman who didn’t seem to mind my “I don’t know” answer to her question about where I was intending to stay in Guatemala. The airport was small. I tried two atm’s before finding one that would take my card, got some colorful local cash (Quetzales, you know) in denominations too large to be easily used. I walked out front, found a seat on a step and dug out my Lonely Planet to see if it would tell me where to catch a bus to Antigua. Before I found the page, a friendly man came up and asked, “Going to Antigua?” I said, “Si” before realizing he’d spoken English. He pointed me toward a bus, and I was off.

The drive was fun and I saw some sights. The bus dropped me off at Parque Central, which is, as the name suggests, centrally located. I found a bench by the fountain, which has four naked women holding there breasts as water flows forth through there fingers, as they seem to projectally lactate the stuff of life itself as a quenching beneficence for all of the suffering children of humanity(see above). It seemed like a sign that this was going to be my kind of place… and even in Venice there were those, who were upset over one little headless Robert Graham nude intended for the center of Windward Circle… ok, ok, maybe there were other issues than nudity involved and this fountain beats the heck outta anything Robert Graham's ever managed, so we’ll let it pass. Regardless, I knew this had to be a pretty good place with a fountain like that there to welcome me.

I read the Lonely Planet for awhile and then heard some music. A procession of school children, led by an officially clad brass band began parading around the square, carrying balloons and shouting chants. They seemed too young and wholesome for political marching, but being an out-of towner, I couldn’t tell what the theme was, or if it was a daily event or if I had stumbled on something out of the ordinary. I got up and walked to the street to watch and snap a couple photos. The whole thing was over in only about ten minutes and then I returned to my bench and the Lonely Planet. Sometime later, it was explained to me that it was a carnival celebration for Fat Tuesday, I hadn’t realized that apparently I was about to give up Los Estados Unidos for lent (and a bit longer).

My research finished and braced with a handful of addresses, I headed off in search of a room and a Spanish school. My search was fruitful and I found a nice landlord who runs a pleasant little place where I rented a room with a table and lamp (and a secure door, so I needn’t worry about leaving laptop and money behind. There’s a common bathroom and shower across a small courtyard, and a kitchen and balcony up a staircase outside my window. It’s maybe a bit damp, but not irritatingly so, and being on the ground floor, I do hear people as they enter, but perhaps if I stay I’ll move into one of the upper rooms, or simply ignore it. I’ll see how it goes tonight.

Took a walk in the afternoon, explored the city, got lost twice and each time found myself and made it back to my rented room. I’m sure there are people who speak English here, but haven’t encountered any aside from the broken English of my landlord (Edgar) and the better, but slightly taboo, English of the Director of the Language School where for the most part they stick pretty faithfully to Spanish.

Now, I’m beat. School starts tomorrow and I need some sleep, even if I really did get some sleep last night, it wasn’t deep and couldn’t’ve been more than a couple hours. I bought a little clock to wake me for school, I don’t want to be late. It’s been a big day, and a pleasant one. Venice seems so distant with so few things to remind me of it… hard to believe that that lovely farewell was only about twenty hours ago.

Wednesday 03/01/06

I shouldn't've worried about waking up on time, the roosters helped me out with that. The noises of people coming in and out needn’t’ve worried me either, didn’t hear a thing and slept great. Went to School this morning, and boy do I have my work cut out for me. Mi maestra se llama Alejandra and she walked me through the conjugations of ser, estar, y tener, and covered a little vocabulario with me. After class, I came home, took a cold, but not unpleasant shower, and set off for a burrito place that Edgar had recommended. Had a very good burro vegetario and headed down to check out the wireless potential at parque central. Looked all over for wireless internet yesterday, finally found it at a painfully touristy spot called the Bagel Barn, just off the park. It worked alright, but cost me five dollars for a bagel (Leonardo de Veggio, it was called__ no that’s not true, but that was on the menu, I almost ordered it, but ended up with one called Guate Guate) and a water. The bagel was good and the water was bottled (I’m kinda terrified of the other, to the point of keeping mouth shut in shower and drying my face carefully__ I don’t like stomach aches) but seemed kinda pricey for Central America. This is a pretty touristy ciudad, although not many North Americans, or so it seems so far, anyway. So I was happy with the burrito, which by comparison was a bargain, and the waitress was very nice. The point of mentioning the Bagel Barn though, is that last night, when I connected to the internet there, I noticed that there was also a connection named “central” which I guessed was at the park, so my plan for today was to go check that out.

So, after lunch I headed to the park. Got a connection, but the sun was so bright I could only barely see the screen. The computer was a big hit with the local kids who quickly gathered around and had fun randomly tapping buttons. I was glad to let them play, but did my best to keep the keyboard clear of potential ice cream drips___ several landed on the backpack, but I can live with that. After downloading email and deciding to read it later at home and out of the glare, I sat back to read a little bit. Before long I noticed a girl sitting at the next bench looking at the book and then whispering to her boyfriend (loudly enough that I heard it though) he’s reading Graham Greene! I looked up and smiled and she explained that she’d been reading Travels With My Aunt, and hated to finish it because she was enjoying it so much; she only had twenty pages to go. That started a conversation, which must’ve lasted a couple hours or more, which was great because not only were they (she’s Nyama and he’s Jaron) nice, friendly, intelligent people, but also they were the first people I’d really spoken to in a day and a half, and I really don’t want to repeat the no-speak experiment down here. Maybe when I finish The Power and the Glory, I’ll give it to Nyama. I hate to give away a gift from dov, especially when it might’ve just been lent to me and not a gift at all, but I think he’d understand. Hmmm, we’ll see. Not certain that I’ll see them again, they’re only in town a few more days, but I agreed to play scrabble with Nyama if either of us could find a board.

Now it’s quarter ‘til nine and I’ve got homework to do before bed.

Thursday, March 2nd

The learning curve in my Spanish class is pretty steep, or feels that way to me. Today was only day two, but I’ve got a lot of info flyin’ around my brain. I feel like I’ve made quite a lot of progress, but it’s rough goin’. I’m definitely gonna study a lot this weekend. It’s a one on-one-class with a great teacher named alejandra. She’s been teaching for seven years and she’s been at this, her third school, for three years. She likes it, but is hoping for a career change because of the unpredictability of the hours. Since the class is one-on-one, I can obviously go at whatever pace I choose, but I really want to try to make as much progress as I can as quickly as I can, so I can start communicating. We’ll see how it goes.

Wandered around the market for a couple hours after class, snacked on a sliced mango and browsed the wares. Kinda lookin’ for a good pair of flip flops, these shoes and socks are buggin’ me. Had some vegetable fried rice at a nice little restaurant. Went to the park and checked my email, but I might have to opt for some other solution to the internet connection because the wireless is pretty unpredictable. Stopped off at an internet bar on the way home to see if I could plug my computer up to their internet, but I don’t have the right port, I’m gonna try to see if I can transfer things via my mp3 player by way of usb, which the girl at the bar said they had, but I didn’t see it and I’m not sure if she understood me. We’ll see. I shoulda thought to bring a cdrw, but live and learn and I’m sure someplace here will sell me one if I look around... and looking around is what I do the most of as it is.

Antigua is a lovely city, and not just because of its name, which of course begins and ends with my favorite letter, as do some of yours, and you might know how I feel about that. But also its architecture and it’s colors and it’s setting, amidst lotsa green hills and beneath the towering volcano. I hope I can figure out a good enough internet connection to upload some photos with this; I took some the first day, but have neglected photography since then due to time or distraction… maybe both. This weekend, during study breaks, I hope to explore, and I’m sure I’ll take my camera with me then.

Time for homework (tarea) and maybe a little Graham Greene, before bed.

Later, still Thursday, 8:30pm (Guatemala is on US central time, just like Omaha, but they must call it something else… it’s an hour behind Ohio and Nuevo York and two hours ahead of LA, if you can believe that).

Finished my homework and went up to the internet bar across from the big yellow chuch (la merced, I’ll tell you about it later___ pretty impressive, but deserves photos and more time for the description, just added a little photo to the right, but I'll get the whole church sometime soon). Anyway, went there and tried plugging in my mp3 player to transfer this and the pics I took Tuesday so I could post it, but no luck. Ended up having una cervesa and watching the football on espn while listening to guns and roses singing about paradise city… just as I was thinking maybe I wasn’t that far from home afterall, I finished my beer and headed back toward my room, greeting the friendly looking guard (I’m not sure what he was guarding, but he was impressively uniformed, blocking the sidewalk, and holding an impressive looking sawed off shotgun, as I walked past) who hola’d me with a smile as he stepped back to let me by. The rest of my walk was pleasant and a bit sentimental as I watched the lovely yellow crescent moon (la luna, dontcha know), waxing at about one-eighth, laying on her back, and wondered what she looked like from Venice and who there might be lookng at just then her just then and were they maybe even thinking of me. Goodnight.

One last bit as I turn off this machine now fully recharged from its afternoon in the park. I was just now reading in the graham greene book, as the murderer lay dying and talking to the priest… something reminded me of what aliza was saying the other day about fairness, and then my mind drifted to the people here, and the people there, and the pandemic discontentedness seemingly everywhere, though I’m not yet cynical enough to believe that it really is everywhere… the thought is not complete, but I think it has something to do with the senseless futility of dissatisfaction… clearly love is our only salvation.

now goodnight__ and sleep well, mis amigos.

2006-02-13T16:43:00.000-08:00

beauty is not rare, it's all around us.

love is closely related to beauty.

the most valuable thing we can do with our time is to see the beauty before us.

cracks in sidewalks are beautiful. I want to do a photostudy of sidewalk cracks and other views of urban ground... showing the beauty.

I want to paint nudes, landscapes, historical paintings anfd abstractions and exhibit them alongside sidewalk crack photos.

I want to collage it all together and put it into a book.

I want to destroy the borders between the first and third worlds. nobody ever talks about the second world. hmmmm.

more on this later.

14 questions for eve

2006-01-04T12:12:00.000-08:00

Here's the statement that will accompany the online preview of the 14 questions for Eve show coming up in only a few weeks. I'm photoing the final versions of the paintings and tying up loose ends, and hoping to get the preview up within the next few days so I can hand out postcards with a clear conscience (since the postcards promise an online preview). anyway, having neglected this blog for the past more-than-a-week, I figured I'd put it here in the meantime, until I get it posted elsewhere.

________________________________

About the Exhibit

The offering up of a verbal explanation of these paintings, is a daunting task, and one on which I’ve procrastinated for as long as I've been able to manage. However, having encouraged quite a few friends, acquaintances, and strangers to visit this website to preview my upcoming show, I feel that it is now unavoidably the time, to write something pertinent to accompany this online version of the exhibit.

I always feel a bit uncomfortable writing or talking about my paintings. It’s not that I feel it’s wrong, or even unnecessary, or superfluous. It’s just that I don’t really ever feel that it’s complete. The associations, thoughts and feelings I have regarding any individual painting, let alone an entire group of paintings, are too numerous and convoluted to convey. I'm providing the following because it’s reasonable and justifiable that some viewers will wonder why I’ve painted what I’ve painted, and what this group of work means to me. I doubt this will fully satisfy any of us, but nevertheless, I’ll give it a shot.

I’ve been painting Eve for at least fifteen years, maybe longer, but the earliest instance that comes to mind is one from late summer 1990. My relationship with her goes back much further however. I’ve been intrigued by the story of Eve in the Garden with the Snake and the Apple for almost all of my life. I remember, when I was five years old, there was a family that lived across the street from mine. In that family there was a daughter, I’ll keep her real name to myself, but perhaps here, I will go ahead and call her Eve. Eve would come over, if not every afternoon, at least several times each week. I guess that my mother was babysitting her, but I don't recall the details. Eve was approximately my age, and as I recall, unmistakably female. I remember having an irresistible curiosity concerning the physical differences between girls and boys in general, and between Eve and myself in particular. I bent all my efforts towards satisfying that curiosity. To that end, I created a game that I believed was my own original invention; I called it “Doctor”. I was genuinely amazed years later, when I discovered that others had come up with similar games when they had been children. Of course, the purpose of playing Doctor, was entirely focused on giving me an excuse to closely examine my playmate’s naked body. With the interest of the game at heart, Eve for some weeks worth of sessions, acquiesced to all my overtures and requests. A day finally came however, when she announced that she had told her mother about our game, and that she had been told that she was no longer allowed to play it. I was devastated momentarily, but my mind quickly churned out a solution in the form of a new idea, I remember saying to her, “Well then, do you want to play Adam and Eve?”

I mention that story, not because it has a great deal to do with this exhibit, but because it is the earliest recollection I have, of having a familiarity with the gist of the events outlined in the first few chapters of Genesis. Also, this childhood anecdote of mine, documents the beginning of what seems to be a lifelong fascination with nudity and nakedness. Generally speaking I prefer naked people to the other kind, and when weather or room temperature allow, I prefer being naked to wearing clothes. There is something inherently honest and pure in nakedness. It always seems that naked people are more open and reliable; unencumbered by deception or pretense. And of course, perhaps because of this, naked people are sexy. The story of Eve, is much more than just a parable of nudity versus the wearing of clothes though. It is a wonderfully complex story, open to myriad interpretations and significances, many of which I’ve taken pleasure in pondering, but it would be false of me to pretend that nudity hasn’t played a significant role in attracting me to the character of Eve, because she is of course, the archetypal nude.

The Title of this group of paintings, 14 Questions for Eve, seems to demand some explanation of exactly what these questions are, or at least for the questions to become clear during the course of viewing the paintings. Early on, as this group developed, it went through a preliminary phase, during which each painting did represent a particular question. In their final state however, the paintings on there own don't really address the question of the Questions, if you see what I mean. But, in the beginning (to borrow a phrase) I did make lists of questions I thought might be worthy of Eve. I listed things I thought perhaps only the Great Mother, or First Lover, or Primeval Woman could answer satisfactorily. I listed things that I couldn’t grasp and that I suspected might require feminine insight in order to be answered satisfactorily, but my efforts seemed too bounded or confining, and too particular to my own experience to easily apply to the experiences of others. I felt that the paintings should serve me on one level, but relate to others in ways that I could not anticipate. Eve is much more than what I, or any of us as individuals, perceive her to be. Eve belongs to all of humanity; she is a primordial image and symbol, maybe even the primordial image and symbol. I did not want to dictate or limit the role she could play through these paintings, by narrowing her potential in anyway.

Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself; sequential organization is not my strength. Let me begin again. Despite my long fascination with Eve, I did not initially set out to focus a body of artwork on her. These paintings trace their origin to a poem and some metal shelves, so I should begin their story there. I found the shelves sometime in the Fall of 2001, Novemberish I guess. They were in the alley by the bank between California and Milwood, up by Lincoln Blvd. in Venice. I brought them home intending to paint on them, but not really having any plan, for what I would paint. They sat on my patio for quite awhile; neglected, but not forgotten.

Being busy with other things, I allowed a year to pass before I began painting on them. When I did begin, I began by fits and starts. I would paint them all one week, and then paint over everything the following week, then let them sit for a few weeks, and then paint over what I’d done. I was having fun with them, and enjoying the process, but giving no real thought to their eventual outcome. Most of the paintings were female nudes, but rather anonymous and generic studies that developed primarily out of experiments in material and method.

That carried me through until the following September or so (that’s September 2003, if you’ve lost track). About that time, I wrote a poem, and although it was inspired by one particular woman, it really held traces of at least a few others whom I’d loved. It went like this:

Tell me Eve
Why are you so sad?
Is it simply because the Summer’s gone
and the Fall begun?
Or is it, because you feel
as if you’ve lost a
friend?

Tell me Eve
What will you do tonight?
Will you find a
lover,
who is not me?
Or will you sleep alone,
as lonely as I am
without you?

It’s cold and dark right now.
I remember how we used to
talk,
never dreaming it could end.
Where is that faith tonight?
and
why am I so sad
because the Summer’s gone?

The poem had a lot of questions in it, and it felt good to ask them. I thought it might be interesting to ask some more questions, and I thought it might be worthwhile to accompany the questions with some paintings. I mistakenly believed I had fourteen metal shelves to paint on, so I decided that I’d ask fourteen questions. As it turned out, I really had fifteen shelves, and to those, I have since added an appliance lid, some burlap, and a couple pieces of plywood, but I like the number fourteen, and have stuck with it throughout.

As I mentioned above, I played around for awhile with the listing of questions. I achieved mixed results. Here’s one of the lists:

1. Tell me Eve, why are you so sad?
2. Tell me Eve, what are your fears?
3. Tell me Eve, where are you going?
4. Tell me Eve, where have you
been?
5. Tell me Eve, what are your dreams?
6. Tell me Eve, how was your
day?
7. Tell me Eve, what are you looking for?
8. Tell me Eve, what have
you found?
9. Tell me Eve, what do you see?
10. Tell me Eve, what is
love?
11. Tell me Eve, what will happen?
12. Tell me Eve, what are you
hiding from?
13. Tell me Eve, what is the answer to your riddle?
14.
Tell me Eve, whom have you become?

where will you sleep tonight? (this is an extra
question; remember, even though there were 14 questions, I had fifteen metal
shelves... it's all so complicated, you know).

I wrote some more poems too (see the Ramblings section, the Little Leather Sketchbook, and the Graphpaper Sketchbook for poems, writings and some preliminary notes and drawings), but found myself reluctant to tie things down too specifically. I also wrote some prose, had some dreams, read some source material and gave Eve a great deal of thought and consideration. Eve, for me became, among other things, the shortened version of “Everywoman” and I came to identify her specifically with the women I’ve known best and been closest to. I found myself stepping back and looking at the lovers I’ve had, and the women I’ve known, the women I’ve slept with, the women I haven’t slept with, and the ones I’ve wanted to sleep with but haven’t. I questioned love, and friendship; and I questioned sadness and joy. I stepped even further back and tried to see myself through Eve’s eyes. I tried to get to get to know the Eve within me, I tried to determine what she and the other Eves might think of the whole me… I probably wasn’t very successful with that, but I think I gave it a pretty good shot.

Throughout all this period, which lasted more than two years, I continued to paint on the metal shelves. I’d paint, and paint over, and paint over again. No result was particularly precious, and I’d paint over paintings whether I liked them or not. Sometimes, I’d document them with a photo before I painted over them, but often, I’d forget to do so (click here to see some early versions of the paintings). Some of the paintings I painted over were really pretty good, but it didn't matter really, I mostly just wanted to keep painting, and the shelves were all I had at the time, to paint on. This group of paintings has really has not been about the result all along. It’s been about the painting and the asking, rather than about the paintings and the answers.

The 14 Questions for Eve paintings are about the taking of the opportunity to ask. The questions really don’t matter and neither do the answers. The important thing is to ask (to seek, to search, to reach... to open our eyes). And of course, we really aren’t asking Eve because she only exists in our own experience of her. We ask these questions of ourselves, or perhaps of our feminine selves, but still ourselves, knowing we can at most guess at an ungraspable answer to an almost unaskable question. We often live in a state of distraction, discouragement and denial, too busy or too fearful to seek the truth. These paintings, if they are about anything, are about the importance of asking the questions and the importance of seeking the truth, even when we believe the truth is unavailable to us, or beyond our grasp.

As a post script, I want to mention three final things; one little recollection, one thought, and one comment that occur to me and seem relevant to these paintings; I’ll share them here, and then shut up.

When I was a child, my mother taught me many wonderful lessons that have since, served me well. One of the things she taught me, and that I’ve quoted for many years is this: “If you can’t handle the answer, don’t ask the question.” Well, I think that’s very good advice, but it can be misleading. It does not simply mean that we should shield ourselves from truths that don’t suit us; it means that we should strive to develop our ability to accept the truths as they come. We should aim to enhance our ability to handle the answer so that we can afford ourselves the opportunity to ask the question. Eve’s eating of the apple, is an interesting metaphorical asking of a question. According to the story, Eve’s apple was the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Prior to her eating of that tree, she could not have known the difference between good and evil, right and wrong; she was an amoral being, incapable of moral action. She could not have known whether she could “handle the answer” of eating the apple at all, she couldn’t have known that there was any answer to handle. There was no way for her contemplate the consequences of her apple eating, because there was no reason for her to consider that consequences would result.

The punishment she received for the eating of the apple seems out of all proportion to the act itself, until we consider the magnitude of the importance of the metaphorical asking of the unanswerable question, which is not a small act, but a great one. Then we can desist questioning the relative magnitude of action and result, and begin to wonder whether the consequences of the act were really a punishment or in fact, a reward, or simply the necessary result to be made the most of... an opportunity to handle, a difficult to handle truth.

Ok, that was the recollection and the thought, here is the comment: As I painted these pictures, I noticed that most often, I depicted Eve after having eaten the apple, and in the act of discarding it. I know, according to the story she doesn’t discard it, she goes off and gives some to Adam and they bicker back and forth about whose fault it was once they get caught, but that version doesn’t affect the way it shows up, when it comes out of my subconscious and presents itself in paint on metal or burlap. So, after awhile, I began to wonder about this. I forced myself, a few times, to paint her either before she’d tasted the apple, or as she held it after having tasted it. My tendency however, if left unchecked, was to paint her as she allowed it to fall to the ground after having taken a bite. Interpretation is a slippery thing, but it’s a dull world without it, so eventually I came up with the following explanation, which satisfies me (you can feel free to interpret it any way you like, but this is what I’ve come to think about it). The apple is the tangible symbolic form of her shame or guilt, for having committed an act which she came to view as wrong. In order to cast off the sadness of her Fall from Grace, she needs to also cast off the guilt and shame connected with the apple. The Fall itself was the result of the shame, rather than the apple eating. Perhaps the only thing that keeps many of us from experiencing joy, is our tenacious grip on our own personal shame. So, in the end, perhaps I did discover an answer to the question that began the poem that led to this group of paintings... funny how everything works out so neatly in the end, isn't it?

I hope you enjoy the paintings.

Fourteen Questions for Eve will be featured in the upcoming exhibit, at Terrell Moore's in LA. The opening reception will be Saturday, January 28th, 2006, 7pm to midnight. Everyone's welcome. Click here for details.

2005-12-26T11:13:00.000-08:00

geez louise, an entire week has slipped by me here. despite my best efforts to ignore the holidays, it has been a holiday week and a pleasant one at that. the theme seems to be one of distinguishing the difference between the baby and the bathwater, which might really expand to be the theme for the entirety of my past five years.

This christmas and last found me unenthused, or maybe even negatively enthused, due to the growth in self righteous christian posturing and politicalizing. the christian right, which seems to make up the majority of american christians, strikes me as holding such uncompromisingly unchristian viewpoints that the whole movement has offended me___ especially so, since the advent of the war in iraq. the truth is, that christmas doesn't have to be about the hypocrisy of christian ideologues promoting the dissemination of western corporate commercialization, their fear-based foreign policy, their advocacy of the death penalty, and their bigoted unacceptance of gays, liberals, abortionists, and non-christians. christmas can be a holiday of love and generosity, peace and goodwill, despite the efforts of these self-proclaimed christians to spoil it for the rest of us.

a lot has been written this year (bill reilly, et al) about putting christ back into christmas, blaming the secularization of the holiday on the leftists and the aclu. these writers completely missing the ironic point that the real culprits are the people calling themselves christians, they are the ones who have turned the holiday into one that would cause jesus to spin in his grave, had he not purportedly already vacated it 2000 odd years ago... hmmmm, maybe that's why they figure it's ok to do so.

cmas is over for this year, but next year I encourage everybody to go ahead and celebrate, call the holiday whatever you like, but focus on love, generosity, peace and goodwill. that's what I'm gonna do, because I believe that's the baby. the rest is just bathwater and ought to be thrown out.

that said, I had a lovely day with my friend aliza yesterday, and would not have traded it for all the neato tech gadgets and modern appiances in the world, not even for a supersoft cashmere turtleneck, although one would be nice if I lived where the weather suited it.

this week has been good, michelle's been in denver, but also in touch and it's always good to be in touch, and she's a good phoner. tim had oral surgery and a birthday but bore them both well, I bought myself a 160gb external hard drive and have backed up all my myriad data, the paintings and drawings are coming along well, the postcards for the show have arrived, I ordered spanish language cds in anticipation of my trip to guatemala, denise and sara visited and are doing fine, and the waves have been gigantic and fun to watch, but too dangerous really to play in. and as mentione, I had a nice day with leez. my apartment is a mess, but that's ok.

2005-12-19T10:18:00.000-08:00

just back from the coffeeshop. still haven't kicked the reading the paper habit. I stay away from it pretty successfully over the weekend, but more because the weekend crowd at the coffeeshop and the size of the sunday paper are overwhelming, rather than through any sort of abstemious willpower. bush calls for patience and cheney assures the troops that "iraq's looking good" somedays they make it too easy to see what buffoons they are__ or perhaps what a buffoon I am for reading the garbage. is it possible they believe what they say? is it possible others do? I suppose it is...

woke up this morning with thoughts about eve... about what the questions are. I go back and forth on whether to even impose questions or leave it up to the viewer as an open concept. it's impossible not to ask though... it's kind of a game. the first question is from the poem that sarted it all, so that's kinda set. hmmm. I'll finish this later. aliza just called and I'm gonna go over there.

back from that, now where was I? tell me eve, what are good and evil and do they even exist? I like to think that good does... but I don't really believe in evil. I really haven't seen it. the view that I formed a number of years ago was that all that exists is good (beautiful) and that evil (ugliness) is simply good misunderstood. that's the best I've got on that, and it seems to work pretty well, as long as I remember it, but sometimes it's easy to forget and the next thing you know you've forgotten to love (see the beauty, you know) hmmmm.

we're all connected. we're all interconnected. goodness.

thursday's thing at kimmi's was fun. spent most of the time hanging out with grace and ashly, but talked with everybody at least a bit. I felt very loved. I think I stayed in on friday night, oh that's right I did. I called ali and aliza, but neither answered. aliza called me from the bar to see if I wanted to come up, but I guess it musta been while I was out getting some food. I watched mr and mrs smith on dvd, it was ok, but not all that great... mostly just a shoot 'em up, not much of a story. saturday I had coffee in the afternoon with aliza and then I went to pesha's party. that was fun. talked with maggie, anya, helen, ian and rachel, robin, dov and others. michelle's in denver, but we've been keeping in pretty close touch over the phone. went to breakfast with aliza and chris on sunday morning at the 50's cafe and then just back home. watched a movie and worked on tim's birthday present. talked with aliza, ali and michelle on the phone.

woke up early this morning. michelle called around 7:30, I'd already been up for a couple hours. so had she I think, but she's on mountain time. she'd gotten into a fight with her mom, but I'm sure it'll all work out.

2005-12-15T13:01:00.000-08:00

had breakfast with denise and sara this morning. they called around 8 and I met them over there (at the brickhouse, of course). good to see them. they're a bit jetlagged and culture shocked, although I'm not sure they noticed. it's really overwhelming to come back and suddenly be in the midst of this world... everything considered, they handled it really well. breakfast was nice and quiet, then we went down to the beach. sarah came and met us and we sat at the juice place on westminster, and ran into more and more people; that's when it started to get socially intense. denise did mention it was a bit much, afterwards. I enjoyed it, although when others are overwhelmed you kinda just have to realize that they're too preoccupied to really pay attention to everything (me), so I just sorta sat back and watched it all.

it's been a pretty quiet week. sunday evening I went to dinner with aliza__ over at her place. after dinner we took photos of each other wearing her underwear and a dog mask. that was fun. monday we went to dinner again, this time to a mexican place on pico... lara's(?). tuesday, tim had plans (oh he's back from guatemala and had a great time bytheway), so we didn't go to figure drawing. I just stayed home and fiddled around making an ostrich rider image (see above, if you didn't figure that one out) on the computer and then reading. yesterday, terrell called to ask if we could put the show off two weeks because he has some people who want to rent his space for all of january. I agreed, and so the show is now rescheduled for feb 11th. went to taco night at don antonio's with michelle and jordana, jordana paid for us as a cmas present, which was very nice of her. michelle had a flat tire, so we put her spare on before driving home. I'm gonna take her to the airport today at five, and then maybe go over to a gathering at kimmi's with school people.

I wrote that letter to the LA Times that I posted here the other day. then yesterday, I wrote another, in appreciation for an article by Tom Hayden called The myth of the super-predator, maybe I'll start writing the LA Times more often... we all need a hobby, right? anyway, here it is:

Thank you Tom Hayden for pointing out that societal factors play a role in
propelling inner-city youth to commit violent crimes. We cannot stop violent
crime until we take steps to understand what factors lead criminals to commit
it. The continued punishment of criminals through incarceration and execution
simply exacerbates the problem while ignoring the cause. Our prisons must focus
on rehabilitation, our schools and communities must focus on prevention, and our
government must work to alleviate the factors that lead our citizens to commit
these desperate and tragic acts of violence and outrage.

Blaming the
criminal for the crime is like blaming the sneeze for the cold. As long as we
continue focusing on the blaming of individuals for societal problems, we will
continue living in a world with violent crime and terrorism. As long as we try
to solve crimes with punishment and execution, and as long as we try to solve
terrorism with assassination and war, we will continue living in an endless
cycle of violence. I thank the LA Times for publishing Mr. Hayden's article and
also for publishing the Tookie Williams timeline (Chronology: The Life of
Stanley Tookie Williams, Dec. 13), the print version of which included a photo
of a ten year old Tookie. Anybody who saw that photo had to consider how
differently things might have turned out for that little boy, had circumstances
been different.

So the thing about writing letter to the editor, one of the things anyway, is that they're supposed to be only 250 words long. so, after writing the really long one I posted the other day, I did my best to shorten it. I was pretty unsuccesful i suppose, but it was good practice. I'll keep workin' on it. here's the shorter one:

I just wrote and sent off a rather lengthy response to Niall Ferguson’s op-ed
piece that appears in today’s (12/12/05) LA Times. Not being familiar with
the preferred limitations on letters to the Times, I didn’t know that the
preferred length is 250 words or less, until I was about to email it (geez, I’m
already at 58!). That first letter went into what was probably longwinded
and unnecessary detail chronicling the inaccuracies, misrepresentations,
fabrications and general failings of Professsor Ferguson’s critique of Harold
Pinter’s Nobel acceptance Speech (91 words, whew!).

I went
back and reread and reread again and then double checked both Pinter’s and
Ferguson’s statements. I did my best to be fair to Ferguson and give him
the doubt’s benefit, but again and again I found him to be twisting words,
taking quotes out of context, and inventing statements and viewpoints, which he
then inaccurately attributed to Pinter. I found this to be horribly
ironic, considering that Pinter’s message was a plea for our “determination, as
citizens, to define the real truth of our lives and our societies.” And
there he was, being misrepresented in an LA Times op-ed piece (195,
uhoh).

Ferguson focuses on Pinter’s examples rather than his
thesis, and at that, he misstates Pinter’s points. He neglects the parts
of Pinter’s speech, that don’t readily support his critique and he alters
Pinter’s statements to suit his needs. In a 250 word letter, there is not
space enough to expose Ferguson as a fraud, but I urge everybody to read
Pinter’s speech, and Ferguson’s response to it, and then question the slippery
nature of Truth and the frightening potential of misinformation. Both are
available online; Pinter at http://nobelprize.org/literature/laureates/2005/pinter-lecture.html
and Ferguson at http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/commentary/la-oe-ferguson12dec12,0,3865802.column?coll=la-news-comment-opinions
(darn! 289).

Re: Niall Ferguson - The play's his thing, not history 12/12/05

2005-12-12T12:26:00.000-08:00

I've spent the past couple hours writing a response to an op-ed piece that appears in today's LA Times. I usually try to avoid responding to this sort of thing, but maybe that's a mistake, maybe I should express my own opinions more publically. I don't know, I suppose it doesn't really hurt, although there must be other things for me to do with my morning. anyway, the piece in question is Niall Ferguson's criticism of Harold Pinter's Nobel acceptance speech. you can read it here, just in case that link doesn't work, do a search for "Niall Ferguson, The play's his thing, not history". please read pinter's speech, or watch the video version, it's available at http://nobelprize.org/literature/laureates/2005/pinter-lecture.html. I'll paste my response below.

I am torn between exasperation and amusement after reading Niall Ferguson’s
self righteous counter-rant regarding Harold Pinter’s Nobel Prize acceptance
speech. Professor Ferguson, amazingly misses the irony of his own
misrepresentation of Pinter’s points, as he zealously strives to refute
them.

He begins with an out of context quote, which is admittedly
confusing to a reader unfamiliar with the original. He then attributes to
Pinter a viewpoint that is simply inaccurate. Ferguson states,

“In the lofty realm of dramatic art, Pinter asserted, there can be
nothing so clear cut as truth. It is, however, a very different matter when it
comes to U.S. foreign policy. There, the distinction between true and false is
as clear as that between day and night. It's simple. Everything the United
States says is false, and everything its critics say is true.”

I’ve reread the speech repeatedly and cannot find anything to support the above
interpretation of Pinter’s remarks. What I do find Pinter saying, are the following:

“Truth in drama is forever elusive. You never quite find
it but the search for it is compulsive.”

“… the real truth is that there never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many. These truths challenge each other, recoil from each other, reflect each other, ignore each other, tease each other, are blind to each other. Sometimes you feel you have the truth of a moment in your hand, then it slips through your fingers and is lost.”

“Political language, as used by politicians, does not venture into any of this territory since the majority of politicians, on the evidence available to us, are interested not in truth but in power and in the maintenance of that power. To maintain that power it is essential that people remain in ignorance, that they live in ignorance of the truth, even the truth of their own lives. What surrounds us therefore is a vast tapestry of lies, upon which we feed.”

Pinter does speak of the continuing pattern of duplicity he perceives in the actions of the United States government since the end of the Second World War. Nowhere however does he state, as Ferguson asserts that, “Everything the United States says is false, and everything its critics say is true.” Perhaps, to give the professor the benefit of the doubt, he meant this as a transparent exaggeration, but that is precisely the kind of misleading statement he seems to be criticizing Pinter for throughout the rest of his comment. The difference however being that Ferguson invented the exaggeration he attributes to Pinter.

Ferguson focuses throughout the remainder of his critique, of Pinter’s speech, on analyzing the accuracy of five of the Nobelist’s charges. He seems to allow that the US did, as Pinter says, play a role in Cold War era crimes and human rights violations, but he takes hearty exception to Pinter’s assertion that “this violence is comparable in scale with that perpetrated by communist regimes at the same time.” Well, I’ve now gone back over and over Pinter’s speech, and I just can’t find where in it, he makes that assertion. It seems to me that Ferguson must be either, a not very attentive reader, or somebody so bent on making a point that he is unhesitatingly willing to intentionally mislead his audience. The irony of this would be amusing were it not so discouraging, given Pinter’s plea for our “unflinching, unswerving, fierce intellectual determination, as citizens, to define the real truth of our lives and our societies.” Which plea is in fact, the seemingly overriding theme in Pinter’s speech.

Rather than arguing that the violent crimes of the United States are “comparable in scale with [those] perpetrated by communist regimes,” Pinter in fact, does something very different. He acknowledges the horrible nature of the actions of Cold War Communist Regimes, but points out that the United States was also guilty of atrocity, but not held significantly, or perhaps appropriately, accountable. Well, I don’t want to paraphrase, here are his words:

"Everyone knows what happened in the Soviet Union and throughout Eastern Europe during the post-war period: the systematic brutality, the widespread atrocities, the ruthless suppression of independent thought. All this has been fully documented and verified.

"But my contention here is that the US crimes in the same period have only been superficially recorded, let alone documented, let alone acknowledged, let alone recognised as crimes at all. I believe this must be addressed and that the truth has considerable bearing on where the world stands now."

By ignoring this essential theme of Pinter’s speech, I believe
Ferguson does a great disservice to his readers. By focusing on fabricated
and falsely attributed statements, Ferguson does a great disservice not only to
his readers, but also to Pinter.

Ferguson washes over Pinter’s comments on the circumstances that led up to the second US invasion of Iraq. Those circumstances are at the heart of Pinter’s speech. The Cold War crimes simply provide historical precedent and perspective. Pinter, in his speech, strives to convey the point that the United States has a history of perfidious subterfuge in its foreign policy, but he does this as a basis for the expression of his fear that, having gone unchecked in the past, the US actions, today and over the course of the past several years, have become more blatant, reckless and arrogant. Ok, I don’t want to put my own interpretive words in anybody’s mouth, here is exactly what he says,

“The United States no longer bothers about low intensity conflict. It no longer sees any point in being reticent or even devious. It puts its cards on the table without fear or favour. It quite simply doesn't give a damn about the United Nations, international law or critical dissent, which it regards as impotent and irrelevant. It also has its own bleating little lamb tagging behind it on a lead, the pathetic and supine Great Britain.”

This worries Pinter and I think is a point well worthy of consideration by us all. Unfortunately it is a point that is missed or neglected by Ferguson. I really want to give Ferguson the benefit of the doubt and interpret his critique as being the result of an advanced case of myopia brought about by academic seclusion. I want to believe that Ferguson is simply so immersed in his own interpretations of 20th century history that he didn’t attend to the more current themes in Pinter’s speech. Unfortunately, living in an era when one must always question the credibility of that which he reads and the integrity and motivation of the writer, of said reading material, I fear that perhaps Ferguson is striving to distract us from Pinter’s intent. And that, I believe, works counter to the dissemination of truth, and counter to the needs of society.

One of the wonderful things about the Nobel Prize is that the rewarding of the prize affords its recipient an opportunity to sound off about whatever topic seems of most concern. I think it’s significant to consider that Mr. Pinter chose the topic he did, and I think it’s worrisome that Professor Ferguson ignored that topic. Harold Pinter is not the only Nobel Laureate to receive the prize with a powerful and relevant speech, many of the Nobel Acceptance speeches are well worth reading and are available at http://nobelprize.org/index.html. Harold Pinter’s speech is available in English, Swedish, French, and German at http://nobelprize.org/literature/laureates/2005/pinter-lecture.html. There is also a video version accessible from that same web page.

I urgently encourage Professor Ferguson to reread Harold Pinter’s speech. I urgently encourage Professor Ferguson’s students to read Harold Pinter’s speech and Ferguson’s response to it, and then to question their instructor as to his interpretation. I urgently encourage everybody else, to read both Pinter’s and Ferguson’s words, and then to consider the slippery nature of Truth.

2005-12-10T09:46:00.000-08:00

monday... hmmm, alright. monday was the day that anya called to meet me for coffee. we had a nice time. she knew that I wouldn't be having coffee with her dad because he was still in Guatemala; he gets back today, I think. so that was good. I'm sure I spoke on the phone with michelle and probably with aliza, which is true for most days. tuesday, aliza called, so maybe I hadn't talked to her monday, because she called to meet for coffee and at that point we were catching up on what we'd been up to since sunday's hangover. tuesday was rudnick dinner without tim and robin, it was fun. wednesday was dinner with vic, but she had a school project to work on so we postponed until thursday. I think I just stayed home and worked on terrell's site, which was how I spent most of my week. thursday, vic and I went to dinner, where we pleasantly debated the death penalty. last night, michelle and I went for a beer at the other room. tonight ali and I will go to the group show at terrell's.

The painting has gone well this week, they're just about finished, mostly just signing left to do. a couple still require more, but I think they'll probably be done by the end of this week. I've got to get around to sending the postcards off to the printer. terrell's site is in pretty good shape. he and I will have to meet next week to fine tune, but the hard/time consuming part is over.

I'm kinda anxiously waiting to hear schwartzenegger's decision about tookie williams... probably not as much so, as tookie himself. if nothing else, this has drawn a lot of attention to the death penalty issue. although disappointingly, there still seems to be a strong majority of californians who are in favor of it. I have no doubt that eventually we (not just californians, but everybody) will do away with it, but apparently we've got quite a long way still to go. similarly, issues like gay rights/marriages, racism, poverty/hunger, healthcare, the environment, even the eradication of war are all things that I think will eventually be resolved in ways I will be happy with, but I'm dismayed at how long it will take to bring change about. optimistically dismayed is how I feel about the state of our society. as far as tookie goes, I don't have a guess, what arnold will do. I wonder what the odds makers in vegas are sayin'.

2005-12-05T13:08:00.000-08:00

one of the things I've really been having trouble with lately is, the feeling of isolation I'm experiencing, brought about by my inability to communicate what it is that I'm doing with my days, to my friends. I mean I can say I'm painting these pictures and the group of paintings is called 14 questions for eve, but beyond that I'm not sure that I am getting anything across. one side of me wants to throw my hands up in the air and give up without even trying because I tell myself that I can't voice it, and they wouldn't understand if I could. but I don't really think that's fair to them or me.

that said, as I was painting just now... actually as I was standing back looking at the two paintings that I was working on, this statement came into my head; "the battle I'm struggling with is between the mark and the illusion." alright, that doesn't tell much about eve, but there are two sides to painting, if you want to divide it up this way, and the one is the content and the other the method, you don't have to divide them that way and you really need not divide them at all, but sometimes it facillitates communication to do so... I think... maybe. maybe that's one of the reasons I have trouble voicing these things, I tend to be unwilling to simplify in order to communicate... which is silly of course because that is exactly one of my primary concerns with painting, so I ought to feel free to incorporate that into discussion about painting... especially with non painters.

2005-12-04T20:36:00.000-08:00

I feel more sad than I ought to. I ought not to feel sad at all. It might be as simple as the time of year, the short days... sunset was 4:44 yesterday afternoon. It might simply be that I'm lingeringly hungover... or maybe lingeringly embarrassed by the extreme drunkeness that led to the aforementioned hangover. It might be that I've grown accustomed to the security and direction of having a normal job, and that now that I'm working exclusively on my own projects, I'm feeling ungrounded. It might be that when I was teaching I would go to school everyday and receive the heartwarming and sincere love of children, given freely as only a child can give... and now I spend my days pretty much alone. It might be that I'm lonely. I like summer better, even though I do live in southern california. summer is way better than fall.

so yesterday I spent the day with aliza. she called first thing in the morning, I went over, stopped at stroh's on the way and bought us coffees, hers was lots of half & half and cinnamon sprinkles, mine was half & half (even though I usually go for the whole milk instead) and three raw sugar packets. we hung out, read the paper, I helped her set up a "my yahoo" portal page, chris stopped over and hung out with us while he fixed her heater. in the afternoon we went to a memorial for her neighbor, michael. I had met him once or twice but didn't really know him, but I knew a lot of people who were there. it was a nice event, he was well liked and clearly his absence is being felt. after that we went to an art opening, and I drank way too much. don't really know how that happened but it did. luckily I had the presence of mind to bail early, I didn't really understand how drunk I was until I got home, but according to aliza it was clear to everybody else... so much for that secret. I don't think I'm very good at concealing my drunkeness from anybody, except maybe myself. I'm gonna have to pay more attention to how much I drink though; I didn't enjoy the hangover.

went to kit's birthday party tonight. it was fun. I didn't know any of the people except kit and yumiko, so it was interesting to meet new people. boy, there are a lot of people... and they all do stuff and have lives and friends and families and dreams... every one of 'em.

2005-12-01T09:54:00.000-08:00

it's good to be 42. I don't often feel my age, I think that's partly due to the forties not being what they used to be. "the forties are the new thirties," I've heard said, and there might be something to that. genXers are turning forty and as we all know, the slacker generation are late bloomers... always overshadowed by the baby boomers. I'm (and always have been) pretty much ok with that. there's no hurry.

I recall a sense of urgency from my twenties though. in my twenties, I couldn't imagine long life, everything was so fast and so new, it couldn't last and I felt sure it would end in a fiery crash. I felt that whatever I was going to accomplish in life, I had to do quickly because time was running out. when it didn't... I was as surprised as anyone and I think I spent my thirties trying to make sense of it all.

I've noticed a sense of urgency in some of my older friends. old age, in the sense that death can occur from natural causes, as opposed to dying as the result of violence or physical accident, is a pretty vague area. I mean, anybody who dies in their sixties is generally thought to be too young to have comfortably done so, but may do and some even die of heart attacks or cancer or other ailments in their fifties. so once we enter our sixties, we must realize that there are no assurances that we'll make it through them. man people these days live well into their seventies, eighties and nineties and we, as the first world privileged class seem to be extending our lifespans continually. nevertheless, there's no telling how long our individual bodies can hold out.

but in our forties, we can pretty much ignore that. we've survived long enough to have the security that comes with experience, and yet have not lived so long that our time threatens to run out. it's good to be 42, although I still most often feel 27.

let's see... monday, tuesday and wednesday have slipped by (pretty uneventfully, I think), since my last entry. I've been staying home in the evenings reading sherlock holmes stories. I've been painting and working on the website during the days. I went to figure drawing at the Y on tuesday, but haven't been out much other than that. aliza's back, but I haven't seeen her, just a couple brief phone calls. tim left late last night for ten days in guatemala with robin. michelle's up to the usual, asked me to taco night last night, but I felt like staying home. terrell's coming over today, I think, so we can make some decisions about his website. I photoed some figure drawings yesterday, it's sunny out, so maybe I'll do some more today... oh it's the 1st, I suppose I should pay my rent... probably ought to go up and check on denise's mail too... hmmm, maybe tomorrow.

it's a beautiful day. I think I'll paint for awhile. the pistures, by the way are figure drawings from sometime in october; two tries at the same pose. I kinda like them both.

2005-11-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

monday morning. way behind on this... more through disorganization and distraction than anything else. first, a quick recap... where did I leave off?

ok, I just checked (to see where I left off, you know) and on wednesday I did go to vidiots and rent rivers and tides and I did go and watch it with aliza, although she was also doing some packing, loose end tying, and showering, so she missed some of it, but I liked it (as did she)and was intrigued by the very different (from me) approach to art and the recurring theme of ephemerality in his (goldsworthy's) work. It was well shot visually and I think a lot of credit for the film's success goes to the cameraperson.

thursday was thanksgiving, I laid low, took it easy, painted and worked a bit, but mostly relaxed. it felt very holiday-like and comfortably solitary. I read in bed quite a bit and that felt like the height of decadence. I tried to figure out whether I would've felt lonely had I not had places to go if I wished, but it was hard to tell. I suppose I would've, but having options, I didn't. Ashly had called wednesday night and we had a good long talk, she was calling to extend a last minute invitation to go out to the valley for thanksgiving dinner, which was unimaginably thoughtful and warm, but I had already planned to go to tim's. michelle had also invited me to the dinner she was going to at marilyn's, but tim's seemed like the way to go and I think I chose well. I went over there around 5:30. had enjoyable conversations; first with anya's boyfriend jay, about art, and then with ian's stepmom mary about politics__ she's a professor of either political or economic history, I forget which, but pretty much on top of things. ian and rachel were in buffalo, pesha was in salt lake city (I think) so it was kind of a smallish crowd. tim's mom, stella was there as was sandy, who I think is his aunt, but might be just a family friend who's like an aunt (I think that's it)__ 90 something and lively despite having a broken femur within the past few months... her som tom(my) and his girlfriend who is very nice, but I can never remember her name. oh, and dov and somebody, who I'm pretty sure might be the gas station girl, no way to ask that one... although I guess if given the chance I coulda said, "so... how did you two meet?"

it's an interesting group, tim's mom quotes howard zinn and everybody has considered opinions that they express well. the group is pretty much of one mind politically, so the conversation was tame, although on other evenings the debate has become heated, I think with the slightly extended and trans-generational holiday crowd people were a bit more careful with remarks than usual, although maybe not... I don't really know that any arguments were avoided, I don't think I held my tongue, but I didn't feel the need to either.

friday, I went to the moca with michelle and saw the ecstasy exhibit, which I wasn't expecting much from and so, wasn't disappointed. it was pretty mediocre and held the doubtful distinction of being the first show I can think of that had a catalog that was quite a lot better than the exhibit. generally I would expect the catalog to simply support the show, maybe elaborate and mostly just remind, but this show was really not too good, but the book looked very comprehensive and attractively designed. I just glanced through it in the gift shop after walking through the exhibit, but that was my impression. either way, the show was not impressive... some neat things at best, but nothing inspiring. also saw a comic book show; some r. crumb and 1960's and 70's marvel comic book superhero stuff, that was interesting more in a historical way than as art, although some of the r. crumb stuff was impressive__ particularly his biography of charlie patton.

after the museum (oh, while I'm thinking of it, I also liked some little copper-plate etchings by a woman named, Jennifer Bornstein) we went for mexican food on olvera street. that was kinda mediocre too, but it was my first experience of a chimichanga style burrito, so that was somethin'. all told, our adventure into downtown was kinda lame, but we had fun and it was an adventure and it's good to be able to say that I do get out of venice every once in awhile, so I sound as if I'm speaking from experience when I say that I don't feeel like going east of lincoln if I can help it... or at least that if I'm gonna go east of lincoln, I want to go all the way.

geeez louise, that's only up through friday afternoon, I've really got to get back into the swing with these updates. friday night - stayed in, can't remember... watched a movie or read a book, I don't know. saturday - the usual thing all day, painted computered, read... emailed with aliza, in connecticut, which I liked because I think that means we can stay pretty active when I'm in guatemala, at least if I can find a connection, talked with michelle of course... we're on the five or six phonecall a day plan I think, I like it. planned to eat nachos and watch a movie, but ended up going over to ali's and drinking wine and watching buffy the vampire slayer while she made curtains to hide her bed. yesterday was sunday, worked on translating sketchbook drawings into black and white graphics (see above) but then got a critical email from aliza after sending er a sample and I think she might have convinced me to not pursue that route... it was fairly time consuming to do and if she didn't think it worked, then others would probably agree... myself included. I would like to find a solution to this though. she, offered the suggestion of a projected slideshow sort of thing... it's worth considering. went to dinner at michelle's last night__ red lentil soup, very good.

slept fitfully, scrawled some eve insights down on an index card next to the bed, I should go read that and see what it says. gotta brush my teeth too. sitting in fron of the heater all day, which is where I've got this computer usually, is drying me out, giving me dandruff and a sore throat. hmmmm.

2005-11-23T09:34:00.000-08:00

I don't know how it got to be wednesday and the last time I wrote was saturday... time's flying and I guess I've been distracted. I have things to write about, but they're gonna have to wait. for now, I'm just gonna recap events, while I remember them (if I do).

terrell's was good, small crowd but aliza and I found people to talk with. spoke with rafe (ralph? raef?) who I know from the coffeeshop, I thought he gave me his email, address, but I just looked for it and now I think I remember that I gave him mine instead. he seems like a good guy, I think he used to date shana, if I understood what he said. Terrell asked me to help him with his website, so I've been working on that a bit. aliza and I got home pretty early, 11:30ish maybe.

sunday, went to coffee with michelle because aliza and I weren't doing our sunday thing because she was going to moca with her friend ben, whom I'm pretty sure I met at the abbot kinney thing. it was a beautiful day and so I went down to the beach for a couple hours and finished reading the peter matthiessen book, the snow leopard, I think I'll send it off to my sister___ I ought to do that today.

monday, started work on terrell's site. worked on adding the pocket notes to my site. painted, which continues well. coffeeshop in the afternoon__ I went in the morning also. had lunch at leaf, a raw restaurant, with aliza and cameron. aliza's new car smells good. I had what they called a bedouin burrit, it was pretty good. I liked it more than raw foods daily.

tuesday, I woke up with the memory of a lovely dream of college town bicycle ridng___ oversized silly bicycle helmet, felt understood and appreciated by my peers... hmmm, sometimes I feel disconnected from the people i'm surrounded by and it's hard to tell whether it's me or them....

the rest of the day was more webwork. I uploaded the rest of the notes to my site. I optimized more of terrell's pictures for his site. I listened to frankl's man's search for meaning while working on terrell's stuff, had downloaded it from the library. went to figure drawing at the YWCA, the model was really good___ very sturdy but curvy asian who handled her body well, I really liked the poses.

this morning aliza woke me up with a phonecall from outside, I was half awake, but only half. she wanted to write me a check for the rental car and go to the coffeeshop before work, and that was all alright with me. I think we're gonna watch rivers and tides this afternoon___ I'll ride up to vidiots after awhile and rent it.

2005-11-19T19:30:00.000-08:00

saturday night now. gonna go to the closing at terrell's for the show I missed open last weekend. michelle decided to give it a miss, but only because she knew that aliza would go. so leez and I will head over there around 9:30 or 11. I think it'll be fun.

just finished a beer. after I type this, I'll take a shower and maybe have another... heck, you'r only young once, you know.

despite the previous post, which might give you a negative impression of my new voice to text software, I think it works great. it does require some editing and I have to speak slowly and clearly, but it's still a lot faster than I can type (which might not say much). the thing that it's really useful for is transcription, because I can type away pretty quickly with my two fingers when I'm typing out of my head, like I am now, but when I'm typing something that I've already written, man that takes awhile because I'm always losing my place__ you know? so anyway, the seemingly insurmountable job of digitizing the notes from the past few (four?) years is finished... and that's in just a few days. I think it would've taken weeks without the new software, so I'm pretty happy about it. I haven't added them to the website yet, but I will within the next couple days.

so, by way of brief recap, thursday evening ali came over and we talked, drank wine made collages, it was fun. friday evening michelle came over and had a few drinks while we waited for aliza to come and we were all going to go to chris's party, but michelle ended up skipping it because she had an early class. aliza and I had fun and after the party we went over to tim's for a final beer and to give aliza a chance to see his house and tim's new fluxus book which he's pretty glad to have.

my phone was out yesterday for an enexplained reason, but back on by late last night. got an email yesterday afternoon from liz saying mom was worried because she couldn't get ahold of me. having the phone out of order also made arrangements for last night kinda complicated, but email worked. I sent word through liz that I was fine and then called and spoke with mom this morning. she was concerned because usually she can leave a message at gotta have it, but I'm not there much anymore so that doesn't work. now she has phone numbers for most of my friends, in case of an emergency.

so, talked with mom first thing this morning, then talked with michelle and then susan, I think I was on the phone for most of the first three hours I was awake. then aliza called and we went to breakfast and then over to her place for awhile. I got back home around 1:30 and painted and did computer stuff all afternoon. took a break to go over to chris's to drop off cd's for him to burn portuguese language lessons for michelle on. since then I've been back here. michelle just called while I was halfway through this... we talked about old friends from back home and old relationships and recovery from them... it was a good conversation.

now I'll take that shower.

2005-11-16T21:59:00.000-08:00

the following garbled entry is my attempt to use my speech to text voice recognition software, the results are mixed, but make for some funny typos. I think the fault is as much mine, for not speaking clearly as it is the program, which works surprisingly well really.

Slipped well last night. Look up around 730 this morning. Once the coffee shop and read the paper. Are at this is too hard scientists can start talking to myself and seeing what happens and tried out my new voice recognition software and that I talk it types. Read the paper this morning and along west of the normal sorts articles about people dying in Iraq and the dishonesty of this administration there was an article of about two a new religion called universal the summer something like that in the skies here surprisingly enough is in for box which sounds to me like the main character from its shares that the galaxy roses and Fort Sumter a in a starter religion based on uncertainty on the fact we can know nothing the clever headlines the article was doubts is there co-pilot the religious soul sounds and a silly because the course you can't base of belief system on the idea that you can't believe in a five nevertheless the article did point out the fact or draw attention to the fact that people are aching for a believable religion people are aching for a new religion the old religion's organized religions but we have are dissatisfied him.
I think this is can't take little practice before the voice recognition software to update I blockhouse. It does make for some kind of interesting typos the law. A spent most of the day practicing with my voice recognition software reading pocket notes into word had in the program works surprisingly well-heeled. Attended this morning the painting is going very very well and I'm very happy with it. Bass 91 with 10 to go figure drawn against the road after that in this morning and started a new painting and close to finishing at a guess I have about four ago and that it's just touching up the ones are almost done the wrong ready hang on a wall some. Yesterday's one of about headsets I have a microphone for my laptop and today I downloaded the programs of the can open the I S self file for the speech recognition software and I downloaded some time ago. I really didn't think would work as well as it did. Although if your reading this bond edited, which I might post, you might think it doesn't work all that will all. But it's more meat and the program is sank I just need to really focus on speaking clearly, and remembering to voiced punctuation.
I went to the coffee shop at five. Son Dylan and talk to have, and need to remember to check out his short films on his web sites. Tim Kane, I and that's always good to see happen. I mostly caught up with Dylan though, while 10 talked of Cosmo. Tomorrow, and need to remember, to go over and borrow a crescent wrench, so I can raise my handlebars and seat.
Phone message from the shell when I got back from the coffee shop, wanting to go to talk tonight at dawn antennas. We went I had to been tacos, and shoe bohemia beers. We listened to secure on the drive home. I had called my brother to M, before we went to dinner. And when I got home I have a message from him and a message from Lisa. I call the leasing back, but it seemed too late to call to end in Ohio. Then I read morein sheer the voice recognition program. O Les I have answered for fallen the did send an e-mail and sounded upsets, so I called her back and look for a because she was asleep. I felt bad but they should get back to sleep immediately because she seemed pretty out of it. Is that understood that sentence pretty well.
That's enough for tonight. To are all practiced speaking clearly. Let's try that again. Tomorrow, I'll practice speaking clearly-yes, good job show (Joe-yes course parentheses-) that's better!
Good night.

2005-11-15T21:52:00.000-08:00

I'm gonna miss tim a lot when I go down to guatemala. the real problem is that not only do I not know when I'll come back, but also, I don't know what I'll do when I come back... it seems pretty likely that I'll head off to cincinnati to get a big group of paintings done, and so it might be this time next year or longer before I get back out here. I'll miss everybody, but somehow I feel like I'll really miss tim...

we went to figure drawing at the ywca tonight, the model was male, but the drawings went well. I really would much rather draw a woman, but for a male model, this evening was pretty good... sometimes it pays to go into it expecting the worst, which is what I did as soon as I saw who we were drawing...

I feel good. got up early and did the gotta have it consignment sheet, so that's done for another month. the day was beautiful, especially early on. I shoulda gone down to the beach, but I didn't___ I will tomorrow though. I ran a couple errands, paid some bills for denise, started a new painting, which went really well, and fiddled around on the computer, without really accomplishing much. I meant to call tim (my brother, not the other one) and find out what was up with liz's schedule and when we were gonna try to get the family together over the holidays, but I missed my window of opportunity, so I've got to call him tomorrow, flight prices are going up the longer I wait it seems.

the movie (ushpizin) last night was good... sparked interesting conversation on the ride home, I liked it more than pesha did and I think anya liked it, but I'm not sure how much... she sorta fell into the devil's advocacy role and so I'm not sure whether it was just her position or if she really liked it. it wasn't the movie so much that bugged pesh, it was the religious extremism of the characters. that didn't really bother me so much though... although I guess it would've bothered me more, if they'd been christian instead of jewish... woulda struck closer to home.

I'm hungry, gonna make some dinner and then get into bed and read. I was up around 5:30 this morning I think... wide awake and had work to do, so I figured I might as well do it.

2005-11-14T15:42:00.000-08:00

so, no sunday breakfast with aliza, too bad, I was gonna make her potato pancakes, but had 'em myself... just as well, because they were kinda experimental because I don't quite remember how I used to do them... haven't made 'em since omaha (five years ago).

I did go with her to pick up her new car though. she called around 2 (we'd talked a couple times before that) and we met over at the coffeeshop because she wanted to get something to eat before we went. we got to the subaru dealer in santa monica, walked in and hollis was there, standing behind the desk. aliza started to introduce us, but the shocked expressions on our faces clued her in before hollis even said, "I know him." anyway, it was an unexpected but pleasant reunion. I kinda thought hollis was mad at me, but she didn't seem to be, so I guess everything is alright. I don't really know how long it's been since we've seen each other, but I know that the last time we talked on the phone I felt like she wasn't too happy with me. but everything seems ok now and she gave me her email and phone number without my having to ask, so I guess she doesn't hate me too much. it was good to get back in touch, I don't think I ever thought I'd see her again, but the world is surprisingly small sometimes. I reread some of the emails we sent to each other years ago, was surprised at how long we were in communication and how many emails we sent... she was really supportive during a pretty rough time for me and I was pretty much just a self-centered jerk. enough of that though___ i'll have to apologize someday when it feels right.

I left the subaru dealership early, so that I could get the rental car back in time. I stopped off at two gas stations on the way and neither would take credit cards___ michelle pointed out to me later that both stations had been arco, which I guess is true, I didn't really pay attention, but I guess arco doesn't take credit cards, I was starting to think that nobody did. as it turned out though, the fifteen dollars cash I had was enought to get the gauge up to "F" and that's all I needed. I pulled into the enterprise parking lot just in time at 4:28, but they were closed. grrrr. couldn't believe it, closed on sunday and no afterhours returns... grrrr again.

couldn't find parking over at my place, ended up driving over to michelle's and parking there. she'd called right before I left to see whether I wanted to come over and watch a movie, she said she'd wait, but by the time I got there, I was guessing she'd been waiting longer than she wanted. she was gracious and not put out though, which was great___ because she coulda been justifiably mad. called aliza, she'd gotten the car and was headin' home, she'd looked for me at enterprise already, so she knew the scoop. michelle made a yummy dinner, we watched crash, which people had been telling me to see for a long time. it was good and thought provoking, but not great, it's tough for a movie to live up to advance praise though.

came home, was kinda sleepy, read for awhile and fell asleep. aliza called shortly after I'd drifted off, still only 10:15, and we talked for a few minutes, but I was kinda out of it. got up this morning to find an email from her complimenting some illustrations I'd done and that made me feel good... she sent the email around 10:30, so she must've done that right after our phonecall, I guess whatever sleepy stuff I said hadn't been too offensive.

took the car in to enterprise right at 8am. they tried to charge me for five days but I was a hardass and insisted they only charge for four. it worked, but I kinda hated having to be an asshole to get my way. came home, went to the coffeeshop, read the paper. It was a beautiful morning, I painted for awhile, worked on the computer, but really didn't accomplish much___ I did make some progress on the postcard for the show, so that was good. I stopped up at deborah mcfarland's because I'd gotten some more mail from the state. she told me I'd have to call them, which I did. the guy was nice, but wouldn't budge on the late fines, it turned out that I only had to pay $380 instead of the $750 or somethin' they wanted, so that was kinda good news, but still a drag.

aliza called from school with some bad news about one of her neighbors, no need to get into that, but it was sad and she sounded upset, but she was in the middle of class and the kids were getting rowdy so she had to go. ian called, hadn't talked with him in a week or two, it was good to catch up with him___ they're all off to buffalo for thanksgiving week, they leave a week from today I think he said. anya called, the movie is at 7:40, she's gonna pick me up at 7, pesha might come.

I've got to do the consignment update for gotta have it before the shop opens tomorrow, I'll try to get started on it tonight so I don't have to do it all in the morning, but we'll see.

the painting is going well... feel like I'm finally figuring it out after 20 years.

2005-11-13T11:25:00.000-08:00

there's this memory that I have, that I don't think I can explain, because it's not really a memory of something that happened, it's just a memory of the way I felt. I know__ or I think I know, that I've felt this way before, but maybe it's just a trick of nostalgia. it's a feeling of security and assuredness, and it tends to remain just out of reach, but I believe in it because of this recollection... this memory, of having felt it before.

It's a slightly european memory, connected oddly with figueras or maybe florence___ odd because security and assuredness hardly seem like feelings I experienced there, but maybe I'm wrong. I connect it with madrid and in the US with, eugene oregon, despite the fact that I know I was terribly lonely when there... and even that last winter in omaha.

it's also a childhood memory and I feel sure it has its roots somehow in family christmas mornings, and summer vacations with my grandparents in upstate new york.

it's a somerset maughm feeling and sherlock holmes___ edwardian literature of a world before world war... not that war hadn't been atrocious before, just that the less mechanized world had seemed simpler and safer. it's the feeling I sometimes have when I reread old favorite novels.

it's a sunday morning listening to hippy music feeling. it's a college friend feeling from those days so long ago when it was unimaginable that a friendship could ever end, or even fade away.

I remember that feeling and I crave that feeling today, but it seems so out of reach... and I wonder if it only exists in memory...

I remember my grandfather teaching me to cup my hands so I could drink rusty water out of the green iron pump along the path up bear mountain.