Tuesday, December 31, 2002
marya: they look for the job they want and then search for the franchise closest to them to apply.
jeremiah: so i'd type in 93401?
marya: yeah, and it would come up with the bakersfield franchise and you'd say "bakersfield? i'm not moving to bakersfield!" and close the window.
Monday, December 30, 2002
My mexican side of the family is c-razy about the chiles in Chimayo. The chapel there supposedly is built upon healing earth. People travel from all over the world to say a prayer and touch the soil. Crutches hang from the walls, proof that the spot heals. Little stores peddle saints and candles and prayers. And chile. And chile. And more chile. My dad bought out the entire town's supply of ristras.
Meanwhile, Chimayó has a calm, almost stand-still quality. Even the air whispers. The sky seems an expansive blue. And the town seems to take you back to a bygone era that you can't quite place: somewhere between today and a mythological time. Maybe it is its own mythological time.
Saturday, December 28, 2002
i've been wanting to get to l.o.t.r., the two towers since it came out, but night after night seemed to miss the chance. last night we watched koyaanisqatsi instead. freakin' brilliant. loved it. especially the first twenty minutes or so. but then it just gets crazy with people and machinery. and while watching TTT tonight, i saw some parallels. unfortunately there are no hobbits, ents, or elves to save the day in koyaanisqatsi.
Friday, December 27, 2002
Thursday, December 26, 2002
jb and i just had a little chat while waiting for the coffee to brew. we are picky coffee drinkers. it needs to be strong. it requires cream. we're also resigned coffee drinkers, cuz push comes to shove and we will add non-dairy creamer instead. we'll even maybe drink the flavored coffee.
today we talked about our grandmothers. we both had seen our grandmothers last night. his is 88. mine is 80.
how can you talk about your grandmother and not get a little teary? i love her so much. she is such a kick in the pants. and that's the thing about 80: you get to be a kick in the pants and everybody thinks it is the cutest thing in the world.
meanwhile, we also discussed coffee. jb was pouring his full cup out as we waited for the new pot to brew.
jb: it's flavored coffee...
m.: we call that foo-foo.
jb: more like crap foo foo.
m.: let's just call it what it is: [insert strongbad accent] crap.[end sb accent]. yet, it's provided with the best intention. it's Best Intention Coffee.
other things... i am still working a lot (nine hours yesterday; how pathetic is that?) but somehow my attitude has never been better. i don't know how to explain it. my undying gratitude and appreciation go out to alex who has been the superstar throughout. specifically for making sure that the little things don't fall through the cracks. but i can't call out alex without calling out shawn, craig, jeremiah, and carrie who have gone above and beyond. and everyone else who worked on the project. i actually get a little teary thinking about all of the help and dedication these guys have shown in the face of true challenges. [insert grateful sigh]. and pulling through the late nights and no days off.... wow.
looking for meandering goodness online? check out nigel's page, specifically his photographs. nigel's photographs have populated my desktop wallpaper for over three years now. his is an amazing eye. other places i get photos: carsten (here's my all time favorite carsten photo; also check out his travel images which are excellent.). mirror project. and catherine jamieson when she had her site up. i miss her photos.
Saturday, December 21, 2002
not having sleep is a very bizarre strange feeling. it's kind of like being on drugs. actually, it's a lot like being on drugs. have you noticed that when you don't sleep enough you need more food and when you don't eat enough you need more sleep?
cocktail party last night. was not going to go [see above paragraph]. kristin is on vacation and gave me the keys to her apartment. "stay there," she instructed. "get some sleep." and so i slept for a little bit when i finally could. until midnight when dan called me from the party.
darryl purpose turned up at our party. darryl was in town for a hoot so steve s. brought him around afterwards.
somehow i rallied. party dress/party shoes. and headed out. but by then they were gone.
still, i stayed up until 4am talking and chatting. it was a great party -- everyone dressed to the nines. fun music. lots of dancing. a fire outside. and lots of people to talk to.
which is why in three days i've still only had a total of 8 hours of sleep.
darryl is a folky guy with a voice like james taylor. check out mr. schwinn or child of hearts.
three years ago darryl played live oak and his songs seemed to stick in my throat as i made a concerted effort not to cry. specifically child of hearts. that one just gets me. darryl seems to be the king of the bittersweet lyric.
he played twice that weekend at live oak. the second time was with utah phillips in a less formal setting. again his songs just touched me. to the point that i decided to tell him so afterwards. so, i got up my courage and went up to talk to him. it was a really hot day. my hair was in braids and i was wearing a hat and sunglasses.
"i just wanted to let you know that your songs really touched me," i said.
"take off your glasses," darryl said, motioning with his hands.
so i took off the glasses and simultaneously burst into tears.
it was very strange. it caught me by surprise and, surrounded by people and embarrassed by the emotion, i felt the need to get away as fast as possible.
i wrote him an email a few days later to say "hi i'm the crazy girl who burst into tears after the show and had to quickly get away." since then we wrote back and forth a couple of times. i always tried to get to his gigs when he played in the county, but it never seemed to happen. finally, with him playing a hoot in december, i'd be able to see him perform again. but then life stepped in and i worked 31 hours straight. steve and he came to the party and i wasn't there. i think we are on paths that don't intersect.
life is funny that way.
Friday, December 20, 2002
also: teen girl squad. (key tip: click "record" at the very end) (if you are super dorky about homestar) (or ever worked in a record store) (or are a music geek) (or all of the above).
Thursday, December 19, 2002
that isn't good.
meanwhile i am starving and realized i'd had, at one point this morning, a fairly decent-sized bowl of oatmeal and sliced pears in my hands. i remember eating parts of it. i remember walking around the office with it. but now i can't find it. or the bowl. hmmmm... i just got back from patroling desks to see if i left it somewhere.
marya: my cereal is missing.
bret: are you saying that there is a cereal killer?
[and the invisible crowd groans]
meanwhile, stephen m., the previously mentioned partner-in-peter-gabriel-concert-seat-squatting-crime, has uploaded a couple of pg tasty treats on his site. if i was cool i would you link there too. but i don't have permission. and with such big bandwidths i probably shouldn't presume. so why am i writing this? i think i am too tired to edit or stop the momentum of my fingers.
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
question: could barbie be accepted by her fellow architects? could she handle the late nights?
second question: would barbie have taken welding?
If you cannot find Osama, bomb Iraq.
If the markets are a drama, bomb Iraq.
If the terrorists are Saudi,
And your alibi is shoddy,
And your tastes remain quite gaudy,
If you never were elected, bomb Iraq.
If your mood is quite dejected, bomb Iraq.
If you think that SUVs,
Are the best thing since sliced cheese,
And your father you must please,
If the globe is quickly warming, bomb Iraq.
If the poor will soon be storming, bomb Iraq.
We assert that might makes right,
Burning oil is a delight,
For the empire we will fight,
If we have no allies with us, bomb Iraq.
If we think that someone's dissed us, bomb Iraq.
So to hell with the inspections,
Let's look tough for the elections,
Close your mind and take directions,
If corporate fraud is growin', bomb Iraq.
If your ties to it are showin', bomb Iraq.
If your politics are sleazy,
And hiding that ain't easy,
And your manhood's getting queasy,
Fall in line and follow orders, bomb Iraq.
For our might now knows no borders, bomb Iraq.
Disagree? We'll call it treason,
It's the make war not love season,
Even if we have no reason,
Monday, December 16, 2002
seats. our purchased seats were fairly decent: on the floor, but in the back. steve m., my partner-in-seat-squatting-crime, and i headed toward the stage during the opening act of the blind boys of alabama. first we had fourth row. then a different section of the fourth row. before peter came on we had found a completely empty seventh row section (at least ten empty seats) where the people just didn't show up! this equalled an amazing view and great room for dancing and me and steve tore.it.up. sweaty amazingly awesome good time.
the concert. amazing. (this will be the overused word of this post). two words: energy. intensity. the place was rockin. there was no lag -- even the slow songs kept up a pace that carried through the entire show. this is the first concert i've been to in over ten years where i just did not want the music, the night, the show to end. check out tony levin's tour journal to get an idea about the show, as well as backstage stuff, too. this is a really fun journal to read.
the sets and props. peter and melanie walking and running while hanging upside down on a lowered track. the hamster ball. the hamster ball bouncing. the lightbulb jacket. the bike for solsbury hill. it was all so creative. so well thought out. so light with humor. so filled with fun. none took away from songs. none took away from the other.
the band. wow. incredibly tight. tony levin's got a new fan. he is matrix cool. all the men had shaved heads or buzz cuts. the women had past the shoulders dark brown hair. everyone was in black except the orange guys (roadies who scurried around between songs). peter was dressed as a jedi master (so i said.) tony levin had the coolest jacket i've ever seen. it seemed to be black silk (pieced together maybe?), like a japanese wizard's robe. the guitarist made a caftan seem all bad ass and rock and roll.... so if you can imagine that. and the keyboardist had a totally wendy-and-lisa thing going on... black gloves with cut out fingers. the guys sitting behind us seemed to let out appreciative "mmm's" anytime she came our way.
there's a lot to say about the music, but i'm not sure i'm the one to go off about it. i'll see if one of the musicians i was with want to contribute... (NEW!! scroll down to read stephen's review).
concert overheard one
marya: i love peter gabriel.
steve: i love peter gabriel more.
marya: but would you sleep with him?
marya: i win.
concert overheard two
[a few songs later]
marya: so... think you'd sleep with him now?
steve: maybe mess around a bit.
concert overheard three
before the show, on the drive up we had a discussion about mustaches. steve says he's never just had a mustache alone and considered shaving off his goatee to try it out. i remarked that the only men who tend to have mustaches-only are cops and gay guys. so, at the concert...
steve: hey, tony levin's got a mustache-only.
marya: yeah, but he's a cop during the day.
concert overheard four
marya: what's his web site, tonylevin.com?
steve: it doesn't matter, they all point to the same url.
and now for the concert review... a la s. matteson...
Peter Gabriel has Grown Up! [cracking knuckles]:
I feel like Peter Gabriel's songwriting and lyrics in the last few albums have been a vehicle of catharsis, a coming to terms with life and relationships rather than just expressing/describing them. I sometimes wonder what Peter Gabriel is going through in his life to write such songs. His music seems to be diverging slightly from a rythm based genre and is now focusing on Melodies, harmonies. Peter Gabriel has always been fascinated with Africa and it's music, but it seems like Peter Gabriel is experimenting more with vocal melodies and harmonies from African Heritage then before.
Peter Gabriel has always self-admitted that his music originates from a rythmic structure, and possibly he is adding more to that mix in the way of melodical and harmonic methods.
I was surprised by some of the songs that he played during the performance. I would not have thought his voice would have been able to handle Here Comes The Flood (1st song) as well as some of the others, but he pulled it off quite nicely. I wished they would have performed "Excuse Me", which had a barber shop quartet at the beginning, but can't have everything!!
As an extra note, Peter Gabriel doesn't seem to have long extended "jams" on his songs. The musicians didn't improvise too much either, that i saw. Did they? Like...a drum solo or something? Some of the other music I listen to that I like a lot do this. I'm wondering if he will ever get into that or not? Part of me wants to see him try it. Almost every song he writes is a masterpiece though, so I don't mind if he keeps doing what he is doing! ;-)
Overall, one of the BEST shows I've ever been to!!
this morning on the today show they had those two boys on. i had to turn the tv off. the first boy seemed as though the reality of what had happened had not sunk in yet, as he very quickly related the events that happened in a monotone, flat voice. then katie goes for the jugular, asking the second little boy to describe what it was like to cling to one of the drowning boys, trying to save him. cut to the boys face and it is scrunched up in a painful, traumatized way and he is out-and-out bawling on tv, tears streaming from his eyes. "oh, i'm sorry," says couric.
i had to turn the tv off. this is the lowest of the low. have we really sunk to this place where we have no decency to take a little child's grief and honor it in some way? in a way that does not exploit? have we no compassion? no decency at all? it was an all time low for the american news.
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
no one knows who is playing what role yet. next tuesday is our read through all together and the last time most of us will rehearse with each other. carrie and michael are in, too.
carrie came up to me tentatively at the end of our work day. "did you get a phone call?" she asked cryptically. i said, no... did you? and i knew within a nanosecond that she'd been cast. go home go home go home was her cry to me and check your messages. call me as soon as you find out. call my cell. i have to know. and i had a very nice welcoming message on my machine from the assistant director and i did a little happy dance by myself in my room until i decided i had to share the news down the hallways.
smashing perfectly good guitars
about a month ago i broke my guitar. the guitar is strictly sentimental. well, not strictly, as it had, for years and years, one of the sweetest sounds you've ever heard. a beater, it was the guitar i could take to live oak and not worry about. it was a guitar everyone else wanted to play because of its sweet sound. a hand-me-down from my ex, it had hundreds of songs written on it. gigs played. campfires serenaded.
it bit the dust after a particularly long day at work. i was well past hour 16 at that point, and it was a sunday night. had been working all weekend. we all had. someone said "check your email, check your email, check your email" with great urgency and as i headed to my keyboard something just barely disrupted my guitars propped up position. and in abc-super-slo-mo i watched the guitar begin to fall. i tried to steady it with my foot, which instead hastened its union with the floor. it snapped at the top fret.
tonight i finally had someone look at it. i hadn't even opened its case since it broke. i couldn't. seeing it again tonight left me a little woozy. a little nauseous. as if i couldn't keep eye contact with it, or something. peter, the guitar guy (friend of steve s. who so graciously introduced me), kinda shook his head. it would take hundreds of dollars. and even then he couldn't guarantee it would be "fixed" or even sound good.
so i don't know what to do with it. contact the xbf, i guess. get his input. to fix, or not to fix. that is the question.
i figure things come into our lives. things leave our lives. and so it goes.
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
turns out that san luis little theater is doing the laramie project. over 50 characters. open audition monday and tuesday night. without even thinking further i asked, can i tag along?
so at 7:00, with a co-op mate in tow, i went to my very first audition. it was awesome. the most fun i've had in months. even if i don't get a part (does everyone say this?) i'm just stoked for the experience.
most of the characters are a reach out of my age range. well, some more reachable than others. there are a slew of university-aged girls. those would be less reachable. there are a pocketfull of 40-somethings (sigh. unfortunately becoming more and more reachable.). and then the rest were heading north: 50, 60, 70. i didn't know what to expect: would i be able to read for a part? would i have the opportunity to read something impressive? would i have just one line to paint with? i had no idea.
those of us without headshots got makeshift ones made out of a polaroid and a woodpaneled-wall backdrop. i tried to smile while i gave out the obligatory cheese. and then joined the herd heading into the audition room.
lady luck shone down upon me because when my name and number were called i got to read reggie, emotionally relating finding matthew's body tied to the fence. the only part of his face not covered in dried blood were his cheeks, which his tears washed clean. so moving. so sad. so bleak. later i read the part of a random lesbian, afraid to show any affection for her lover in public. afraid of being run down by a redneck-driven chevy. both times i got to read with an older guy who kicked ass and obviously has a lot of experience on stage. he was fun to read with.
tonight we are going back. me, carrie and michael. going back with our name tags, our bottled water, and our fingers crossed. meanwhile, if you live in san luis i'll be blabbling about showtimes when they arrive (late february) whether i'm in the play or not. and if you don't live in slo town, check out hbo's site, which gives a decent synopsis of what the whole thing is about.
Monday, December 09, 2002
* * * * * * * *
On a more serious note, if you've been following the news, you're probably aware that the Bush administration is refusing to fund much needed world-wide programs for reproductive education. Bush and cronies are outraged that the UNFPA, the United Nations Populations Fund, won't agree to Bush's rules that would prohibit their programs from mentioning that abortion even exists. Let me put that another way: As long as UN educators in developing countries don't pretend like they've never heard of abortion, no money. Meanwhile third world countries aren't receiving any help with family planning. That's okay, though. Better to have countries that are overpopulated to the point of not being able to feed their people, than countries that know about abortion.
The people at the UNFPA have started what they call the "34 Million Friends" campaign. If 34 Million people in this country all donate one dollar (or more), they could raise the funding that Bush cut. And let Bush know what they think of his policy. For more info, check out http://www.unfpa.org/support/34million.htm.
I think it's worth about 20 of my dollars.
hope to hear more from y'all,
Marya: Their target market is women who make over $100,000 a year.
Steve: Hey, that's my target market, too.
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
Marya: snacky side?
Bryon: oh, that's right. my snacky back side
Tuesday, December 03, 2002
marya: she is great.
heather: why can't he see what a great girl he has?
marya: (shakes head in bewilderment)
heather: how come i can spot the great women and not the great men?
and so it goes. my friend carsten mused about such things a couple of weeks ago as well. so maybe it is that the men can spot the great men and think that all the women are nuts and the women can spot the great women and think that all the men are nuts.
and this, my friend, is the human condition. scratch that. the single condition.
what if we all just had the courage to be open and honest and out there just for a split second?
i had the 47 hour flu. started at 7:15 saturday night. ended 6:00 monday night. ended with me wanting pizza or enchiladas or lazagna or all of the above and now. i was hungry. this cracked me up as i couldn't even bear the smell of cooking the night before, much less eat or drink anything. luckily i was smart enough not to eat any of those things. 24 hours after that i was able to get back to the gym (i took it easy). i had super furry animals in my walkman. there are about three songs on that cd that i could listen to every day for a month and still love them as much. head bopping good.
and then to take a music detour, fun 2 hour western swing hours on kcbx tonight. hopefully stu is recording this for me. he said he would if he remembered. i have this weird interest in bob wills. more like merle travis. and speakina bob wills, heather and i saw asleep at the wheel last weekend. last minute tickets (i literally called the day before) and we wound up with front row center seats. we felt guilty because we weren't big fans and here we were at the PAC with the best seats i'd ever had there.
being so close was like having a very long guitar lesson. ray benson is an amazing guitarist and has amazing vocals to match.
Monday, December 02, 2002
Opinions are inevitable, but do we have them (as provisional, limited markers) or do they have us?
Hauled and stripped, her booms unshipped,
our playmate sits gathering snow,
her charts by the fire laid out to dry,
her main and mizzen, checked for wear,
to be stowed in the loft, not to mildew.
Rogue's Roost, Bald Rock, East Ironbound, the Ledges,
noteworthy anchorages, islands in the offing, hazards to avoid,
names in flying spray on the wind written large,
an expanse to the landbound no more tactile than a star,
if stars can be seen where they are. And now here we are,
returned to the heathen, with the ocean closed for the season.
Now the armored storms promenade, with the clear days
the coldest of all. More than bulletproof, the space
between Prospect and Betty’s, only three miles out, where autumn saw
a silver anniversary, champagne and cake and more, for the children
kites, kayaks, cranberry-picking, a trip to the lighthouse on the outer shore
(old Algiers laid out and snoring till the tide reached his privates).
And now Betty’s through the kitchen window is our contemplation.
Closed? The lobsterman says no, his red and green lamps in the grey dawn
glowing as he leaves the harbour, swallowed outside by the seas and the snow.
And now the amateur sailor concurs. Children, dinners, village issues intervene,
our own work if we have any, and as the frost flowers mask the pane,
love ever beckoning, an Atlantic within, without beginning or end.
2 December 2002
Friday, November 29, 2002
after dinner i grabbed dini's leash for a baywood stroll. dini is the pound puppy my mom and bill rescued instead of going for one of robert's border collies. she's a sweet, incredibly amicable pooch. and i had just spent an hour doing dishes and just felt like i need to get out, breathe some fresh air and look at the water.
my mom lives in a nook of a town. it's almost like a throwaway from your distant memory: small, meandering streets. quiet quiet neighboorhood. and little shanty old-school beach houses mixed in with newer monstrocities. dini and i took a left and found ourselves along the shore of the backest part of the back bay. a bonfide stand of pompous grass. rows of colorful canoes, overturned and orderly napping on the dry bay grass. egrets. gulls. herons. the bluest sky. the bluest bay. quiet. not a stir.
i held my breath. and felt thankful for many things.
Tuesday, November 26, 2002
check out his latest pics of the j.p. andews building. i have to agree: i also hope this turns into swanky martini bar. we need more places for the out-of-college crowd.
marya: where do you live? the boondocks?
rem: just past the boondocks, actually.
+ + + + + + +
i was showing chester my arizona pictures and opened up one showing a painted ceiling.
chester: what are those dots?
marya: ceiling decorations. it's an arc.
chester: arc deco?
Friday, November 22, 2002
speaking of sadges, i got great advice from one mizz katherine hunter this week. she says she's noticed that lots of virgos (and that would be me) cling furtively to arguments and view points, while sag's gallop fearlessly away. this was in response to a very strange email i got that made me feel kinda icky and sticky. so, on ikat's advice i galloped away and never felt better.
Wednesday, November 20, 2002
part two of the mother and daughter arizona sojourn is finally installed. this one includes pictures from arcosanti, montezuma's castle, sedona, and the grand canyon. not nearly as long as the first installation.
Tuesday, November 19, 2002
Monday, November 18, 2002
» The Jayhawks :: Tomorrow the Green Grass
» Mark Olson :: December's Child
» Diana Krall :: Live in Paris
» Blossom Dearie :: Blossom Dearie
i had the weirdest weekend. there was the what-has-become-de-riguer situation of working all weekend. only it wasn't all weekend -- but some here and some there. no matter, i was in the office both saturday and sunday and put in double-digit hours.
saturday night every fun thing happened on the same night and i could only do one. richard and bailey had a dinner party at their new house at the foot of bishop's peak. ben and robin had a power party out at their place in the hills of cayucos. friends were celebrating another friend's final mortgage payment with many irish bands playing into the deep of the night in los osos. and victoria williams and mark olson were playing at the cambria hoot.
the hoot won. a sold-out show of a performer the likes of us in slo county never thought we'd see and only 60 or so seats available. the venue was a hidden art studio in the heart of the east village. i had to ask three different shop keepers where it was -- none knew. i wasn't the only one trying to find the studio -- i ran into an acquaintance, peter, still in his leather with his motorcycle running, asking about the same venue. finally a woman at robin's pointed me in the right direction. "go down this road, and see where that porch light is shining? it's in there." a line of people patiently waiting to see if they could get squeezed in.
i have to say that it was one of the weirdest shows i've ever seen. it was more like we were voyeurs in an artist's studio watching something be created. victoria took a long time between songs (taking guitars off, putting guitars on, taking harmonica holders off, putting harmonica holders on, disagreeing about the next song to play, being perplexed about the next song to play and having what seemed to be very subtle arguments with her husband mark olson) and sometimes didn't even finish songs, but it was still a good show and i'm really glad i went. it was nice to have something a bit more raw than our normally normal and pasteurized events that seem to make their way to the central coast. my favorite part was when she was on stage alone (no drummer, no bassist) singing standards. her odd vocals and unique timing bring old songs to a new location -- maybe a hillside or a city street or a back alley.
i could have listened to her husband and bassist mark olson all night. he had more of a stage presense than victoria and i just felt drawn more to him. so today i bought an old jayhawks album and his latest, december's child (the title song must be about v.w.)
then yesterday was blast-from-the-past catch-up day with andy gus. old highschool friends, andy and his twin sister becky were often the center of our social circle. sometimes we'd end up slumber partying at their house, a mishmash of co-ed sleeping bags as andy would invite his friends and becky hers. countless friday/saturday nights, ballgames, parties, phone calls. coming of age. i had a great group of friends.
andy has the coolest job ever. designing bags and other stuff for all kinds of outdoor gear makers. designing and then travelling all over the world to see how things are being made, field testing gear, and doing the tradeshow rounds. andy looks great and it was fun hearing about his adventures and travels and life in the pacific northwest.
Thursday, November 14, 2002
andy gus is in town. andy is a high school friend who i haven't seen in years. ages. aeons. he lives in seattle and designs nifty things you probably buy at r.e.i. and i'm hoping we get to hook up for some coffee or lunch. he's making the old high school rounds, meeting up with all the old gang.
Wednesday, November 13, 2002
Monday, November 11, 2002
two fires in one day
last night i woke up to sirens. and then more sirens. and then more sirens. and then more sirens.
i live down the street from the main fire station for my city, so i didn't think much about the noise until the lights from a cop car got me out of bed. the neon circling lights cast circus colors on my wall. i could hear voices from its radio. i threw on jeans and headed out the door.
fire. smoke. seven engines. a focused flood of water forcing itself into the second story window of the railroad building. i watched from a block away for twenty minutes. then i walked closer and found friends sitting along a cement wall across the street. we sat mostly in silence in the heart of the night. watching the firemen climb ladders, enter windows, point hoses, put on gear. from the distance we could hear the whine of a chainsaw. mega-flashlight beams illuminated the dark smoky windows.
the railroad building is home to cool businesses. at least one artist, catherine abel. the yoga centre. big brothers/big sisters. an architecture firm. a law office. our city baseball team. and the web design shop from whose site i got the above photo.
it is one of the coolest buildings in slo town. i always wished the top floor was apartments. last night, however, i was glad that they weren't.
earlier in the day there had been another fire. griswold's radiator, a barn-ish, beat-ish, weathered and tired building. i always liked its roots feel, marking slo's progression and slo's history like an old scar you got in kindergarten. a marker for the old-timey-town san luis once was. i guess you could say the same about the railroad square, where the men came to work in the olden days.
the house i live in now was once a hotel to those men. those workers. my entire neighborhood was built for these men. including the old brick building that stood in flames last night.
today i couldn't shake the loss, even though the buildings don't look that bad from the street. it was a loss for my city and neighborhood. a wound for the businesses and the artists. new scars to mark where we've been as we travel into our relentless future.
[postscript: i've heard through the grapevine that atleast two artists (not sure how many studios were in the building) didn't lose any of their artwork. good news.]
Wednesday, November 06, 2002
"== Oh Boy More Fear And Gluttony Whee ==
Dark stormclouds of sadness and pain passed over the collective soul of the United States and indeed much of the universe today as the Republican Party won control of American government and will hence have much less trouble passing more invidious laws that further its adorably sniveling and very, very mean-spirited agenda of war, big business, corporate inbreeding, heartlessness, artlessness, cultural degradation, homophobia, misogyny, racism, fear, dread, gluttony, and uptight sexless puling about everything that doesn't gibe with rich whitebread Americana doctrines of money and power or vague karmic misery and sneering fear of anyone who makes less than six figures or has genuine orgasms or really loves the environment or personal freedom or alternative viewpoints or laughter. "Hail Satan!" giggled a heavily shellacked Elizabeth Dole as she stepped into Jesse Helms' crusty, moldy, homophobic pink slippers. "Let the Dark Days begin!"
Saturday, November 02, 2002
bret is back and obsessed with montreal.
ben is still in the dumpster
carrie is taunted and berated by her classmates in the locker room
stu is like drinking too much good champagne
craig is god therefor search & destroy
jason is not likely to attack downfield
kurt is the only actor who can play a convincing action hero
darin is married to sharla and together they have four children
mette is nothing but an angel
ryan is saucy's dreambook
jeremiah is a babylonian term used to designate a sweet cake
marya is an inspiration and someone who i would love to meet someday .
shani is a totally different cat.
jdr is lookng for a great season this year.
carsten is the only major planetary body in the system.
macker is a wonderful community event
mel is enraged by the british.
shmoopy is the little mermaid.
shane is a mean mean man
capoeira is all of these things
rebel is one hot looking heel and a neo classic soul artist.
becca is slowing down her teen time.
Friday, November 01, 2002
Thursday, October 31, 2002
part one of my arizona travels is up! please check it out at my october desert blog.
it's a long one. it might take a minute or two to load.
but there are pictures and you can click on them. there are pictures of me, my mom, my family. of cactus and cactus and cactus. and of clouds. clouds everywhere. we don't have a lot of cactus or clouds in california. at least not like they do in AZ. click on the thumbnails to see larger versions.
part two will include arcosanti, sedona, and the grand canyon. so keep yer eyes peeled.
Wednesday, October 30, 2002
Tuesday, October 29, 2002
uno: you only tease those you love.
bryon burned some popcorn. this wouldn't be something to report on unless bryon wasn't the biggest, loudest, whiniest, whingiest (should i go on?) complainer about people burning popcorn in the microwave. i'm talking big blubbering baby tears. cantankerous, curmudeony protests if he even thinks he smells a hint of burned popcorn. so you can imagine our reaction when mr. westmoreland burned his own bag of corn yesterday afternoon. the microwave still has a smell lingering and its insides are a permanent ochre.
marya: bryon puts the ass in nasty.
carrie: bryon puts the ass in nasty in the microwave.
bryon leaves for australia on saturday. forever. (insert sobs and tearful goodbyes). we will miss him.
and here's a little webgeek humor for you (if you can call it humor)... my friend elias was loved by one of the pickiest art teachers at our university. if you could get this woman to like you, it was like a badge of honor. she specifically had a reputation for disliking students in my program. yet this teacher loved elias (well, who couldn't help but love him?).
marya: she loved elias. she wrote him a recommendation to get into an mfa program!
wyeth: she wasn't anti-eliased?
(okay -- was that the crowd groaning i heard? i'll hold off on the encore.).
Monday, October 28, 2002
Saturday, October 19, 2002
Friday, October 18, 2002
tomorrow my mom and i leave for our arid arizona adventure. first stop orange county. wait, that's not arizona or adventurous. it's my dad and janet's where we will camp out over night. and rumor has it that janet is cooking one of her amazing meals (this woman is the queen of the steak, of the wine, of the flowers and of the most beautiful china pattern you've ever laid eyes on). perhaps we'll venture out for a little punch drunk love. this is the inbetween stop when we've got one foot in our backyard and one eye scouting to the eastern horizon.
sunday will find us zooming down highway 60, 66, and 666 respectively. spooky.
later in the week we'll be paying our respects in canyon de chelly, the petrified forest, the grand canyon and all the wonderful spots in between. there might be updates.
Thursday, October 17, 2002
so i went to the artist's site and noticed that she lives in cambria a really cute coastal community in my county. and she has photos of a trail my good friend jim used to maintain. and what did i find but several photos of a bridge and a bench that jim built on the trail out of driftwood.
i think katherine especially would appreciate these. and i thought some of you might like to see a couple cool pics of cambria and the pacific ocean. ;)
view from trail
ozzie on bench
bench and view
Tuesday, October 15, 2002
Monday, October 14, 2002
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
and death i think is no parenthesis
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
in time of daffodils(who know
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remembering how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with praise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
yes is a pleasant country:
yes is a pleasant country:
let's open the year
both is the very weather
when violets appear
love is a deeper season
my sweet one
(and april's where we're)
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
may my heart always be open to little
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile
Friday, October 11, 2002
rem: you should drink yoga instead.
marya: i would, but yoga starts at 5:30 which means you have to be there by 5:10.
rem: well yeah, east german yoga.
marya: they do dna testing and mitochondrial dna testing....
dan: i prefer t&a testing.
rem and diana are planning a weekend escapade in sf; diana wants to thrift store shop. obviously, rem's not been keeping up with the peace movement...
rem: i'm thinking the haight. haight is all i know.
'May you live in interesting times,' Chinese curse
If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it's better today.
I'm content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring.
There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears of passion-I've used up a thankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last.
If nothing much happens, I'm thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you're after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring.
I don't go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don't need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I've found a safe mooring,
I've just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.
If I Don't Know (Faber & Faber)
As heard this morning on The Writer's Almanac
Thursday, October 10, 2002
Douglas Coupland, All Families Are Psychotic
Tuesday, October 08, 2002
Sent: Monday, October 07, 2002 5:49 PM
To: jim p., mary g.
Subject: RE: press - again
i believe the quote i heard the most frequently went something like, "sigh. could the project have been more perfect? it was the best experience of my life. much better than my wedding or kindergarten graduation or even those cake donuts with colorful sprinkles we sometimes get at work. i am a very very happy person and finally feel spiritually fulfilled. soon i will quit my job to work towards peace in the middle east. praise marya."
i heard that like twenty times. no, maybe that is an exaggeration. fifteen times.
From: Mary G
Sent: Tuesday, October 08, 2002 9:03 AM
Subject: RE: press - again
I love it! Most of the quotes are so dang dry and this one has some life to it! Praise Marya!
Sent: Tuesday, October 08, 2002 11:07 AM
To: marya, mary
Subject: RE: press - again
yeah, it got so prevalent that i started to tune her out. "Oh, Marya this" and "Oh, Marya that"... If I only had a son, I'd have him marry her...
STOP FEEDING DRUGS TO YOUR CLIENTS... No more ... Bad girl!!
this morning kb and i walked to work. over the jennifer street bridge and down the bike trail that conveniently drops us off close to work (still have to cross the tracks and squeeze through a trail that runs between to industrial-ish-y type buildings.
this morning we walked through a playground of birds. most seemed to be finches, but there was at least one western bluebird.
bluebirds always catch your attention here on the central coast, because we don't get the often. usually we see the gradeschool bullies, the scrub jays (squawkin and hoppin and generally posturing where ever they can). but today was a small flash of blue and both kristin and i said, "what was that?!"
meanwhile, the finches were back lit by the morning sun so their wings were like little angel wings.
that's the morning corn report. i don't care if it's corny. it was a great way to start the day.
Monday, October 07, 2002
i was one of the 10,000. i'm glad i called. you should call too. call your senators. call your representative.
downtown there are two large "chalk" grafittis, one huge peace sign in front of the post office. and another (not sure where it is) that also has the peace sign with the words "smart weapon."
and finally, today on new dimensions (one of my favorite radio shows -- you should try to listen if you can), the following:
THE SYNTHESIS DIALOGUES: PART 4: TOWARDS A NEW WORLD CULTURE
with H.H. The Dalai Lama and others
In the fall of 1999, forty innovative thinkers from around the world gathered together with H.H. the Dalai Lama of Tibet at his home in Dharamsala, northern India, for a special invitation-only dialogue about the future of humanity and the planet. In this, the second of four specials, we witness highlights from the third day of this historic event. Some of the voices heard include, eco-philosopher Vandana Shiva, educator and psychiatrist Uma Krishnamurthy, M.D., Bro. Wayne Teasdale, author of The Mystic Heart (New World Library 1999), global consultant Myron Kellner-Rogers, philosopher Jean Houston, author of A Passion for the Possible (HarperSanFrancisco 1997) and others.
i truly believe the most important thing we can be doing right now is praying for peace or doing maitri practice. i want to urge (no, challenge) all of my friends to spend just 10 minutes a day doing this. we can change the world.
one of the speakers today on the new dimensions show said that our notion of creating a world of peace is as bewildering to us as abolition of slavery was to the US population in the 19th century. now, we can't imagine a world with slavery. imagine if we couldn't imagine a non-peaceful world. i'm telling you friends, it can be done and we could the the generation to do it.
Sunday, October 06, 2002
hmmm, i says to myself. i wonder if it's time for another necklace. and in truth it is but first things first. my eye got caught by the mention of scarves and then click and they are all blue&dragon (old joke). in real life they are white fur and all kinds of other colors (red dragon, blue dragon, gold dragon, etc). i cannot tell you how perfect this will be for december up in pullahari. ;) so, my order is in the works.
meanwhile, if anyone feels gift-ally inclined, i am eye-ing the spice semi-precious necklace.
my ability to spell is waning. as is my ability to choose the right version of where/wear, my ability to use correct punctuation, and my ability to pay attention to any details at all. ever. this is not good.
fast runner slowly gets to slo town
about a million years later, fast runner came to slo town. and it's a sell out. i met ryan h. (not capo) and justin there and they were kind enough to buy me a ticket in advance. the tall guy sitting in front of me was also kind enough to remove both his hat and his glasses, both of which were propped atop his noggin. since the movie is subtitled, i was having a hard time reading around his head and then his glasses distorted words in the middle of the screen. i hate to ask people to do little things like that... but sometimes you just gotta take the assertive movie-goin' route. and besides all that, the movie was good. thumbs up. go see it if you can handle the slow pace. (yes, ironic title).
i dunno what it is but this weekend found me beyond tired. i blame wednesday and thursday. so tired i didn't get to make it to rbean's wedding [insert tears and kicking foot at the ground]. it was a painful exhaustion, the kind that soaks into your bones and seeps into your eyelids. i'm pretty bummed about missing the bean nuptials, but take solace in that there is a huge shindig in the works for the same wedded pair next summer in the big apple. and that i will not miss that for the world.
Friday, October 04, 2002
last night was the bike happening and it was a doozy. over 260 people and a classic bike sumo. against my better judgment and despite all hesitancy i wound up at mccarthy's with alex and dan and peter. chatted with some nice english guys from manchester. and drank two southern comforts and coke even though i distinctly remember asking for nondescript light beer from a can. my head didn't hit the pillow til 3 and i'm feeling it now. darn. i blame alex and dan, respectively. but it was well worth it: fun time at the bike hap and great convos with good friends notably jason joyce, the infamous "double zjay" (you must say this with your french accent) and my little bro, ryan capo who everyone should have the pleasure to meet.
Thursday, October 03, 2002
so much is going on. news: very good sweet friend getting married and i'm not at liberty to announce to world yet (though i did get permission to announce to den and kitchen). sigh. happiness and excitement abound and life rejoices.
the stars must be aligned in a trickyfox way cuz i feel like i've got ants in my pants. crazy energy urging jennifer beal-like city-flat flashdance in torn sweatshirt (and nooooooooobody wants to see that). all these silly reminiscent thoughts wisping me back to fairytales of yesteryears. all just mind folly. i think i have reached the end of my happy-to-be-single time. whatever that means. hookinupjoojoo must abound. and too bad i'm missing the halloween party. the first one in ten years i won't be at. well sometimes you gotta change the scenery. so i'm doing a desert road trip across the great arizona arid landscape.
fall burst through the door somewhere between monday afternoon and tuesday morning. the mornings and nights are all crisp and shivery and the noon day sun is pushing 80. this is the weather of bliss. santa ana winds seem to blow me back to all kinds of memories. maybe that's the problem -- not the stars but the slowly approaching desert winds.
enough drivel. i've sent macker about three hundred email today. two full of awesome liberal bumpersticker quotes that probably make him a little nauseated and dizzy, if not out and out epileptic, as well as great quotes from jesus, buddah, and jack kerouac. now there's an interesting trinity.
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
marya: you know stu, now that you sit in our area you are required to have a stuffed animal at your desk.
stu: i don't like stuffed animals.
marya: it doesn't matter. you must have one.
stu: i do have one i could bring in. it's a deer's head. a stuffed dear head. that's a stuffed animal.
marya: will you send me a postcard from hell?
stu: he has a name, even. bambi.
Friday, September 27, 2002
Rev. Peter Laarman
taken from The Sun Magazine's February Sunbeams page
Thursday, September 26, 2002
her latest entry takes place in the heart of oz, and after reading her email you may believe that it is the heart indeed. rebecca takes a trip and weaves every day and extraordinary magic into her every day and extraordinary life. i spent some time looking up links to go along with her latest post and will try to hyper link sometime tomorow.
meanwhile, check out the rebel down under if you are interested or if you need an afternoon vicarious vacation.
sets, not sex
wednesday night i went to the movies with remington. i kinda corralled him into seeing "the four feathers." i'm sure if he'd had his own pick it woulda been some fancy shmancy palm movie [insert overdramatic eye rolling with back of hand to forehead]. okay, okay, i like palm movies as much as the next person. but i also like heath ledger and wes bently. and rem's a good sport, so he came with.
after the movie (which ended on a very bad and ridiculously obvious note), we headed to
No, says Rem.
I told him I thought he should watch it for the sets alone. the sets were amazing
"can you watch a movie just for the sets?" i asked him. rem was the world's first online movie critic (no kidding), so i know he might watch a movie just for certain aspects. so i asked about the sets.
only he heard an "ecks" sound instead of an "etts" sound.
of course! he said, brandishing great vigorous belief in the fast-forward button.
oh, you should watch it, then, it has great sets! amazing sets! you should see the sets where the elves live. great elf sets. god. they're beautiful. gorgeous. stunning.
and in hind sight now i can see rem's brain working, churning, spinning, and spilling... looking at me with almost crossed eyes, trying to figure out what i was on and was i really only drinking hot apple cider. elf sex? beautiful? gorgeous? stunning.
pause. pause. pause.
"did you say setttts?" he asks, enunciating his t.
and then rolled his eyes and said, if you put this on your web site, do NOT use my name.
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
Sunday, September 15, 2002
Believing that we can fall in love
We make a mistake.
Believing that we can trust each other
We become clumsy.
Believing that we could make our last stand
We take a chance.
In spite of ourselves
We can't help being gentle.
In spite of our love affair
We can't help being cynical.
When we are together with moonlight and candles and passion
Then no one is at fault.
When we share the candlelit telephone bill
Then we have a victorious marriage.
Working hard doesn't produce any comfort.
Loving you is more than the world can provide.
Although practicing meditation does not produce sourdough bread,
Practicing with you makes this tedious world good food.
Seeing you makes me smile without effort.
If you think we can make a world which is brilliant and kind and tender,
Let us love each other with no concern for our private world.
Let us love each other without wondering whether our love affair is good or bad.
Let us love each other until the dawn breaks.
And when it does,
Let us celebrate our love affair.
Let us marry ourselves to the continuous proclamation of true love.
We can pay the bills.
We can build a picket fence.
We can plant a rose garden.
We can make a gate which opens to the world.
I love you forever, because you are who you are.
Vajra Regent Osel Tenzel
January 26 1980
Thursday, September 12, 2002
"One of the world's most respected statesmen, Nelson Mandela, has condemned United States intervention in the Middle East as "a threat to world peace".
He said that no evidence had been presented to support the claim that Iraq possesses weapons of mass destruction, while former UN weapons inspector in Baghdad Scott Ritter has said there is no such evidence."
factoid of the day: did you know that dick cheney was opposed to nelson mandela's release from prison?
ny times :: mccain
althought mccain supports a military action against iraq he also said today that it "may entail the risk of American lives and treasure" and that "Saddam Hussein is vastly weaker than he was in 1991."
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
a year ago today my heart was broken by every person i saw -- whether i knew them or not. and everyone seemed to extend themselves further -- the heart of humanity was opened to include other drivers, people in the check out line, strangers on the street.
in the days that followed i got the letter from tamim ansary and began to read blog's of strangers. it started with andy' chest. then i went to ultrasparky, east/west, and kottke. ultrasparky led me to jonno and sturtle.
more than a year ago i wasn't too fond of the world trade center. i felt in the past that they were a bit obnoxious, seeming to represent everything about america that is over the top and overconsuming and exploitive. and i guess needless to say, i don't feel that way anymore.
and today i think of my little ny friends: de and bean, both doing the brooklyn boogie and adding spice to the melting pot.
Friday, September 06, 2002
you get the idea
what a nice, mellow birthday. a couple of bouquets of flowers, fun meandering day (okay -- it is noted: i overuse that word), a great sunset hike con mi madre, friends in from out of town, a palm movie -- which are always free on your birthday. we saw thirteen conversations about one thing, which i loved.
dan, knowing my giggle-induced appreciation of homestar runner, got me a tshirt and magnets of all the characters. when it came, however, one character was missing....
Sent: Thursday, September 05, 2002 9:03 PM
To: Homestar Runner
Subject: order homestarrunner-3425 from Homestar Runner
What a load of crappy crap.
I ordered a t-shirt and 12 magnets for my Shmooper's birthday and when she opened her gift today there was no StrongBad magnet to be found. How can this be? Does trongBad know a secret way out of the big white envelope? Did he die being wrapped up in that little plastic sheath? What happened? Please rush a Strongbad magnet to fill the gaping void in my Shmooper's heart.
From: HomestarRunner [mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: Thursday, September 05, 2002 9:03 PM
Subject: Re: order homestarrunner-3425 from Homestar Runner
Obviously, Dan, you haven't been paying attention lately...Strong Bad's been on vacation, which is undoubtedly why his magnet button wasn't included in the order for your Shmooper. But don't despair.......and keep this under your hat....Strong Bad is back (although he's not telling anyone yet) so we CAN get your Shmooper a lovely Strong Bad magnet button to go with her others.... we'll get it right out to you.....and by copy of this e-mail, we're letting your Shmooper know that this whole fiasco IS NOT your fault, but only due to the incredible lethargy of Strong Bad and the evil complicity of The Cheat.
Thanks, Dan, for being a Homestar Runner fan, and thank you for your order!! We really appreciate your support!!
- The Homestar Gang
Thursday, September 05, 2002
from: Remington Dahl
subject: On Sunday I came up to a stop light
On Sunday I came up to a stop light next to these two young babes who'd written "Honk if your a hottie" in the dust covering their back window. Being me, I tried but was completely unable to resist saying "Excuse me, but, the type of 'your' to which your sign refers requires an apostrophe after the 'u', and must end with an 'e'." Needless to say, they began massaging their breasts and telling me their deepest desires. All true but that last sentence. Their actual quotes were "Um... okay, dude. Thanks a bunch!" and "We'll be sure to correct that, professor." They wanted me.
They all want me.
date: Wed 9/5/2002 3:02 PM
from: Remington Dahl
subject: Last Weekend
Just a little something I like to do on the weekends...
it's my birthday! and people all over the world are celebrating!
jeff davis road
jeff's team celebrates in the early morning
somewhere in eastern europe the accordian ushers in birthday greetings
a theravedin monk and his theravedin pooch and their theravedin birthday hats
Wednesday, September 04, 2002
but all hell broke loose at work and created a non-vacation week for me. and now i will be here for my birthday. and i made a point of not really mentioning that it was my birthday. so now i think it will be this birthday non grata. and that wasn't really my goal at all.
something special. something ethereal. something slow simmering stunning. something adventurous. this has turned into meetings and timelines and pushing email.
meanwhile, it is raining.
i've never known it to rain here in september. and as i turned into the road that takes me to the office a couple drops hit my windshield. big drops. colorado-late-summer drops. it hasn't rained here since may and even that was meager.
and i thought, if it were to rain, well then, that might be the something. and it might be ethereal and a slow simmering stunning thing that might make my birthday perfect. so i'm holding my breath that it becomes a brilliant, late summer showery day tomorrow.
Monday, September 02, 2002
The Dalai Lama
from His Holiness the Dalai Lama's Message on the Commemoration of the 1st Anniversary of September 11, 2001
i cancelled my vacation. postponed, actually. so the arizona meandering car journey will happen in the middle of next month with stops to see my extraordinary grandparents, boyce thompson arboretum, the petrified forest and its painted desert backdrop, canyon de chelly and the grand canyon.
and since i worked all day on saturday, today i am pretending that it is sunday. but it's monday which means that i got to enjoy a few things that are normally outside my nine-to-five reach, such as listening to New Dimensions. today's show was part three of an interview with the architect and forward-thinker, William McDonough. What an amazing mind. And though I've gone overboard on book buying lately and am considering putting myself back on the book diet, his book Cradle to Cradle might have to squeek into the ever expanding bookshelf before the disciplined rationing begins.
i am putting up all of rebecca's travelogues onto her own blog, rebel down under. no unique design, yet, but still a place for you to quench yer rebel thirst in the meanwhile.
Monday, August 26, 2002
this weekend i bought myself a hrih (pronounced hree -- where the h is more like wh in whew).
a hrih is a seed syllable. One web site said that the "HRIH is the heart's seed syllable; it encapsulates the compassionate activity of the bodhisattva." i love that.
the caligraphy is one of 108 silkscreens of the vajra regent's original caligraphy; a fund raiser for my sangha. i saw a girl at the parinirvana celebration that had the hrih tattooed on her right arm and it was about the coolest tattoo i've ever seen.
Saturday, August 24, 2002
(aside: why do some sites still use upper/lower case?)
if you haven't signed up for bookcrossing yet, i'm here to encourage you to do so. and tell 'em emdot sent you.
Friday, August 23, 2002
it's a sad day.
yesterday i found out that a friend has passed away. allyson s. was a beautiful, tall, sweet, artistically gifted girl. quiet and easy to laugh. part of the african dance troupe. taller than me, and it's not often i find myself surrounded by taller women. amazingly talented: an artist, a graphic designer, a photographer. her work has appeared in several art shows. she graduated with a degree in applied art from cal poly.
ally was loved and liked. she was easy to be around. she loved sex & the city. she was the person who first told me about the matrix. she was the person who inspired me to apply at web associates (and was my reference). she was the person who introduced me to many new friends. ally is friends with many at the establishment and came to most of our parties. ally designed sites for apple and hp partners while she was at wa.
ally was a sensitive and sweet and beautiful person and will be missed by many. close friends and acquaintances. she touched more lives than she probably knew.
here are three group shots i found online of allyson dancing with her african dance troupe.
top left with the flash over her head; eyes closed; big smile.
center left with ponytail flipping.
right, looking up with blue glasses.
please keep her in your prayers and tonglen practice.