communities, part two

one more thought... rem was home at lunch. i'm so stoked that rem has moved into our little community (not really sure how the house should be classified... community living?)...

we agreed that san luis is one of the really fortunate places in california. not only do we have a thriving, authentic downtown. we have a town center: the mission. our town is built around the mission. people gather here for lunch. for church. for celebrations. for fairs. for events. people while away their hours, take detours, meander, and sit. and it's beautiful.

communities

on the way home for lunch i had my radio dialed in to kcbx. they were broadcasting New Dimensions... an interview with Nina Utne and Jay Walljasper on the need for salons (getting together and discussing events with people of like and unline minds) and how communities have broken down in the US.

this is an important topic to me and the talk -- what i heard of it -- was ... inspiring to say the very least.

jay walljasper said a really interesting thing -- talking about what has caused the demise of the US communities. he attributed it to tv and airconditioning (and nina threw in the automobile as well). he said before tv and air conditioning people would sit on their front porches to cool down and spend time.

i loved this insight about air conditioning it cracked me up.

a lot more to say on this subject, but i will leave it for another day -- if not it's very own level-two on my web site.

i hope everyone who is reading today is doing well...

bonobo misses dan, too

jason got in the dan moment as well.

a great dinner. i laughed so hard that my stomach hurt from one rib to another. no tears... i think we know he is just down the street and i have a feeling instead of mourning our loss we'll just be at his house. well, that is my plan anyway.

it's a dog's life



little miss shani (pronounced shawni) is in mex with her human johnnie o. they are spending a month south of the border while john works on some backend stuff for a resort. tough life. ruff life? shani is the former dub-ay office dog and we miss her little begging and toe licking and hopeful prancing to the front door when the ups guy shows up. i told john he ought to take pictures for a coffee table book: shani visits mexico.

an era ends
from dan, the shmoop



My time here at the Establishment is coming to an end. I have lived the richest eight and a half years of my life thus far within these walls, richer than my childhood summers, richer than my college years. This is the way people are supposed to live, with each other. One's understanding and tolerance of others is heightened. People grow faster and with more compassion. Anger is short lived within these walls and love runs deep.



This weekend I am moving just down the street, but it feels like worlds away. After a year and a half of tinkering with my house, it is finally ready for me to move into. It has taken about that long for me to be ready to make the move. My door will always be open. By mid-summer I hope to have my guestroom ready. For now, there is always my lumpy couch. By the end of summer I hope to have my hot tub running. Please feel free to stop by anytime. (Cinema one is now cinema 835)



To all of those whom I have lived with, thank you. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for your understanding and helping me manage the Establishment.

Keep in touch.

Love,

Dan

another poem from j. tischer

my favorite part is the first three stanzas. scroll south to read the whole thing.

----------------------------------
I am folded into myself.
I found myself like this
one day...I was shocked.

"Things get very clear
when you're cornered."
Is this why I feel so sharp?

I feel the edges where
I've been folded by events
leading to this moment.
----------------------------------


Origami

I am folded into myself.
I found myself like this
one day...I was shocked.

"Things get very clear
when you're cornered."
Is this why I feel so sharp?

I feel the edges where
I've been folded by events
leading to this moment.

I learned to appreciate
the tension of events
leading to moments.

I used to appreciate
in retrospect. Now I
appreciate in anticipation.

The play's the thing
in which the truth is
revealed. The truth

is not a word. It's an
event. I am this living
folding that goes on.

Adults call "play"
"the real world".
I call the real world
a playground.

If you think I'm serious,
you have one side of the coin.
The other side is mystery.

I can do this, whatever
I am doing. It's so easy
and so hard to get to this
point..

The point is never give up
on anything. Giving up is
loosing sense of humor.

Even seppuku is a joke.
If you think big enough,
you won't stop laughing.

This is what I learned
in the playground.

— J. Tischer 2003

seajay is in the house

catherine jamieson has long been a favorite web journaler among the many. and i'm so lucky to know her beyond the blog -- met her before i knew about her blog actually. and what a blog/journal/photo gallery it was. clotheslines [sniff, sniff] i miss you still. (but only a little, as i captured almost all those pages for posterity and actually have them on my hard drive at work).

the good news, my little birds, is that c.j. (hence, seajay, as she is known to daveworld) is back in business. there's no real content, yet, but a little supportive text. bookmark now for future reading and gazing deliciousness.

Is intelligence being redefined?

"What does it mean to be "smart"? Does it mean to hit a very specific place and destroy it? What would dumb mean then? Just destroy? Is there a term for a bomb that is created to help to erect a building rather than removing it from satellite pictures? Are soldiers considered "smart gun carriers?" Does "intelligence" mean finding out things that can lead to death and destruction? What would be the name of the thing that is used to bring life and new solutions? Does "friendly" just mean coming from the people who are told the same thing as the one being attacked? Is there "friendly beatings?", "friendly punishment", "friendly truth", "friendly death"? — Witold Riedel.

There are only three blogs I read regularly that are written by people I don't "know": Jonno, Loobylu, and Witold. Jonno is good for the hip, sharp factor. His is a life I can't identify with, but love to visit. Looby is the friend that all the girls identify with: pretty, clever, artistic, sweet, humble. she could be all of our best friends. But Witold -- Witold is just someone you want to know -- hang out with and share a coffee. Which is an odd thing to say about someone you don't know from Adam. But nonetheless, if he lived in SLO Town, I would go out of my way to say hi at the coffee shop. He'd be the guy who might come to all of our parties and afterwards the whole house might muse that "he should hang out more often." But instead we just read his blog and take a sip of a little new york transplant lifestyle. Witold kinda has a Carsten feel about him and I wonder if it is a European sensibility?

rivers and tides



last night dan and i ventured to the palm to watch rivers and tides, the documentary of andy goldsworthy's art process. wow and wow. go see this. while watching i began to make a list of everyone i will by this dvd for. so keep your eyes peeled if your birthday is coming up.



a.g. takes the simple and the everyday and sees them as art. that is the difference... justin and i were talking about this last night. who hasn't stacked driftwood as a rudimentary ramshackle lean-to? who hasn't lined up twigs on leafs, whiling away an hour laying on the grass? who hasn't created a leaf boat and set it on its merry way, ferrying down a little back stream?



a.g. takes the beauty of what is right in front of you, stands it on end, and you see its brilliance. and then you think, "yes, of course, why didn't i think of that?"

baby : bathwater

it's interesting to me how people assume if you are anti-war that you don't support the troops. or if you are anti-war, that you support saddam hussein.

i am anti-war. i am glad that i don't have to make decisions like that either — i don't kid myself thinking that pacifism can cure everything. but really and truly — there's got to be other answers — we just haven't been smart enough to think of them.

some day, a brilliant mind will wake up in the world and "discover" truly how to create a life without war. and once that thought is out there it will seem so obvious, so rudimentary, so why-didn't-i-think-of-that. which is how most brilliant things are. right in front of our noses, we just couldn't see them.

meanwhile, i care about our troops — their safety; their psychological well being; who only knows what lies ahead for them — both during war and after war.

meanwhile, i don't think that saddam hussein is a nice man. to be trusted. i wish i knew the answers.


antiwar sampler

get yer mp3s at salon — billy bragg to ani di franco to the beasties to saul williams. and p.s. my subscription to salon has been, probably, my best online purchase yet.

That's the kind

That's the kind
of being that I am:
seeing that I am.

And you...what do you
call your life?
What words do you use?

If I am killed by a gasoline bomb
in the streets of any city, or,
starve to death in any country,

how does that make me
different from you? And if I
achieve great deeds

and have a life acclaimed
how does that make
me different from you?

I die now.
That makes us even.

— Tischer 2003

tasty morsel photo treats

found from raebean, gary dwyer photos. run thy fingers there now. perfect lunch time diversion. and more than one would be incredibly perfect wallpapers.

post dramatic stage disorder

the curtain went down and i swallowed and noticed that instantly my throat was sore. and i was exhausted. i tried to rally for the cast party, but headed home earlier than others (even though it was 2:15am when i got home). the night before had been a long one fueled by wine and conversation. the night before that had been a late one fueled by the buzz of the thursday night performance. working and working (60 hours the previous two weeks). and four performances. the body's a funny thing cuz it will get you through what needs to be done.

and then shuts down when the done's been put to rest.

i have not been able to pull myself outta bed-mode all day. and i shoulda gone to work — lots to do there. but i couldn't keep my eyes open. and am feeling sore throaty and snifly. and am just marvelling how this all hit so suddenly. you know i don't feel well when i can't even muster the energy for the academy awards. but that would indeed take effort as i don't have cable and don't have any friends in town with cable. we contemplated getting a cheap hotel room. a group of us, snacks in hand, to watch the oscars get doled out. but in the end entropy won. i wonder if they give awards for that?

fourteen down, two to go

well... fourteen shows down and two to go. we've been sold out the last few shows and that somehow makes the play so much more fun.

each thursday night performance is for a non-profit gay-supportive organization. gala, aids support network, glbu, and pflag.

the first two orgs were the best of that week's performance. because the audience is more comfortable with gay issues, they are more apt to laugh at the funny parts or gasp or cry, etc. your basic dream audiences. plus they have a reception afterwards that usually includes alcohol. so they're a little lubed for the experience to begin with.

the third thursday was glbu. gay, lesbian, and bisexual union. this is a college-aged organization and they don't drink before cuz many are underage. this was a quiet audience. they didn't laugh. they didn't applaud. they very quietly sat still and listened. after the show i greeted two friends i knew in the audience. they were a bit... quiet. reserved. hushed almost. i invited them out w/ us and they just shook their heads.

a day later i got to touch base again.... i mentioned how the audience was so different from the previous thursdays.

"you know marya," she said. "that play hit a little close to home for most of us. i mean, we *are* matthew."

wow.

last thursday night was pflag. parents and friends of lesbians and gays. where as the previous thursday was matthew, this audience would be the parents of matthew. i didn't know what to expect. but instead of being sullen, they were crazy. loud. laughed at all the right places and many of the non-right ones. at one point, during a moment where one of the killers is being interrogated and telling his account of how and why he beat matthew and left him to die, one of the castmembers said, "if they laugh here we're in trouble."

they didn't laugh.

there's one moment where my mom and i are on stage. i'm telling the account of how the protective gloves i had at the scene were "shit gloves" and kept breaking and i ran out of gloves but just went forward and kept trying to help matthew (covered in blood).


"about a day and a half later the hospital called me and they told me that matthew had hiv. and they said, 'you've been exposed' and 'you've had a bad exposure.'"

because my character had been building a lean-to for her llamas and her hands had a bunch of open cuts on them.

"so i was kinda screwed [laughs] you know."

and we go into this little back and forth and at the end my mom says, "i just hope she doesn't go before me; i just couldn't handle that."

and i thought that line was *the* line for that audience. the fear they all live with.

-----------------

i've been extremely lucky that so many of my friends have come to see the play. mark and kelly came; it's their 10 year wedding anniversary. and ryan h. and miss laura. online friends came tonight: brian and kelly. i love it more when there are people i know in the audience. and of course i love the afterwards part more when people i know are there, too.

-----------------

tonight's audienced gasped when i said "matthew had h.i.v." and that gasp brought tears to my eyes. because it is just a shitty shitty situation (how's that for eloquence?). just the sadness of it all.

-----------------

researching for the play i learned a lot more about matthew and about officer fluty's experience at the fence. i learned that matthew had been raped in morroco a few years before he was killed. his rapists stole his shoes then, too. i learned that when reggie fluty got to the scene that a doe was sleeping near matthew. here was matthew — covered in blood and tied to a fence. thirty degrees. no shoes. his body and his head distorted from the beating. left alone and tethered. and a deer chose to come down and sleep next to him. the account i read said that she and the deer locked eyes — that is was a deer in headlights moment. they locked eyes and then the deer ran away.

matthew wasn't alone.

you know, just weeks before he was murdered, matthew realized he wanted to work for human rights. how could he have known just how much he would do for human rights. the dialogue that would open up. how far the story would reach. and for how long. it's a sacrifice you would never ask of or for anyone. certainly not one he would choose. and yet it happened and a tide of events were put into motion. he was the butterfly's wings. the play is just one droplet of the storm.

hear me, feel me

the goal was: get the big words out and sound perky. well, okay. hear me for yourself.

Reflections on America at War
Peacemaker Community USA Director Fleet Maull

Not knowing; Bearing Witness; and Loving Action
Three Tenets of the Peacemaker Community

Yes, we are at war, and though I find it extremely difficult to use the words "we" and "our" in relationship to this war, I know I must. Part of me deeply wants to call this George Bush's war, the U.S. government's war, the neo-conservative, far right wing of the Republican Party's war, or the corporate or multinational's war ... and yet in my heart, I know it is our war ... my war. Despite all the wonderful things we are capable of as human beings and human communities, despite all of our amazing accomplishments, despite the wonderful advances in international aspirations for justice, human rights, and a compassionate, global civil society, despite the real signs of extraordinarily positive evolution in human society ... at this time in our history, this war is in one sense the best we are capable of as a collective human society. It represents at least on part of the picture of where we are in our evolutionary path as a human culture and world society. It is easy to see this as a war directed by a twisted, confused, and greedy elite bent on world domination; and there is a certain degree of truth in that, maybe a lot of truth.

At the same time, are not the people prosecuting this war mere actors in the human drama that represents our collective best/worst scenario at this point in time. In the long-term or on the cosmic plane, this war may be part of a decline into darkness and the eventual destruction of civilization as we know it. On the other hand, it may be the beginning, middle or end of the last throes of a dying system of nationalist and imperialist domination, that will soon give way to a new era of global civil society based not on control and deterrence but on partnership, cooperation, sharing, interdependence, love and compassion. As we stand in "shock and awe" at the tragic ignorance overtaking our world, are we witnessing an end or a beginning, or both? It's impossible to know, and yet as we stand here in fearful and mournful witnessing, sick at heart over the violence and destruction being perpetuated in our name and the very personal, real, and tragic suffering brought down on so many children, women, and men, the innocents and the combatants alike, is there any hope but to completely own this unfolding tragedy as our own ... as my tragedy ... my war?

Clearly when I look deeply at my daily life and state of mind, I cannot escape the fact that I perpetuate this same violence, ignorance, greed and suffering continually in thought and deed. Perhaps not on anything like the scale we are now witnessing, but is this tragic war anything other than our collective ignorance played out on the world stage? To the extent that we assign blame for this tragedy to someone else or to some other force, to that same extent do we not give away our individual and collective power to do anything about it? As human beings, we find ourselves struggling daily for our piece of the pie. We fear there will never be enough ... enough love, enough food, enough land enough success, money, fame… we struggle to have enough to feel secure and happy. This scarcity-model, fear-based psychology seems to be the unavoidable fate of taking birth in a human body. We call those who completely transcend this psychology saints. The time has come for us all to realize or at least aspire to sainthood, and we have to get there together ... our brothers George, Saddam, and Osama included.

In these dark times, it is difficult to know what to feel or think, much less how to act or to have confidence in the skillfulness or ultimate benefit our actions can produce. I want to march and yell ... and I do. I want to stand silent and meditate and pray ... and I do. And like most of you, I never feel certain that my actions are ultimately skillful or beneficial. Like all of us, I pray this war will be over quickly with as little loss of life and damage as possible. And yet I begrudge George Bush and his confederates in ignorance the "victory," which will likely be the only way to a quick end to the war. Part of me almost wishes "their" war would turn into a protracted quagmire that would bring down the Bush regime; but I certainly can't wish that when I realize it is my war ... our war. I want our war to end immediately, and if that means a perceived victory for the Bush regime, so be it. It is our duty to not fall asleep again and to insist that our democratic processes function as intended and bring people to office who share the same values as most of humanity ... the desire for peace and happiness secured not by force, but by sharing, partnership, generosity, and a global civil society that will outlaw war, or better yet transcend the need for or even the possibility of war.

"Victory over War," one of the more potent phrases or slogans with which my teacher, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche summed up his teaching and our collective purpose, is a victory won in the human heart, not on the battlefield, a victory won both individually and collectively, in the depth of aloneness, hopelessness and darkness and in the light of enlightened partnership and enlightened community ... enlightened society. We will all find our own way to answer both the call to action and the call to silence and prayer in these dark times. With considerable hesitation and humility, I would like to be so bold as to call on all of us to stand up and be counted, to join together in the streets, on the internet, on the airwaves and refuse to be silent, refuse to let this tragic violence go unwitnessed and unchallenged ... and somehow find the way to do so while cultivating a peaceful heart, a heart that can hold the highest possibility of goodness for all of us, George, Saddam and Osama included. Marshall Rosenberg the author and proponent of Nonviolent Communication (NVC), insists that even the most despicable and horrific acts committed by human beings are for that person the most wonderful and beautiful way they have to meet their needs at that moment ... a hard message to swallow when talking about terrorists, rapists, or sex offenders ... examples often used by Marshall. We think our argument or outrage is with the person, with their character, heart or motivation, with who they are; but in reality our argument is with their strategy for meeting their needs. We all share the same basic needs. His Holiness the Dalai Lama reminds us again and again that what unites all of us, without exception, as human beings is our desire for happiness. Violent, damaging, twisted strategies for meeting our common needs for security and happiness are known to be born from wounds and trauma; and until we give empathy to those whose strategies we abhor, we cannot expect or hope for them to even question much less change their destructive strategies. The answer, as we've been told for eons, is love ... empathy, understanding, compassion. How can we love George enough to call forth his highest good, how can we love ourselves enough to call forth our highest good. My personal daily dilemma at this time is how to raise my voice as vigorously as possible in opposition to this war and have that voice be a genuine expression of love and empathy for all, especially our brother George. The answer seems to be in some very challenging integration of inner and outer work, some formula for spiritual or spirit based activism that still eludes us. I know we are all trying our best and stumbling our way together toward realizing that integration or formula in any given moment. Perseverance furthers.
Peace and blessings.

May all beings enjoy happiness and the root of happiness;
May they be free from suffering and the root of suffering;
May they not be separated from the great happiness devoid of suffering;
May they dwell in the great equanimity free from passion, aggression and ignorance.

some buddhist thoughts, as we step into war

"Wishing to increase the suffering in order to eventually minimize it is in fact the logic of terrorism, and of war. It isn't necessary for you to make this choice, on these terms. All that is necessary is to wish suffering on no one. The minute you allow yourself to be drawn into the struggle, even if you think you are doing good, the energy of war begins to feed on you as further fuel for the conflagration. We are all confused. Bring your mind back, and stay open. Trust in that." — CM

The Sakyong has encouraged the sangha to practice the Four Immeasurables in times like this. They are:

Equanimity
the even-minded attitude towards all beings and events

Maitri (loving-kindness)
the ability to stay open to those who have inflicted violence, and to those who are the victims

Compassion
the ability to open our hearts to all beings who are undergoing unthinkable hardship; who are consumed by hatred

Joy
the ability to arouse the wish that everyone may attain enlightenment (or atleast step out of their samsara)

overheards

"It's a jungle in here." — Tharpa D.

very frustrating afternoon

lyrics that just touched me, hothouse flowers ("water")

I'm sitting here looking at this road
Looks like it's getting longer
I've been carrying a heavy load and now
I'm praying for some water
I'm looking down this road
and my heart is getting weaker
And I'm down on my sore knees
Praying for some water

I HAVE TOO MUCH WORK RIGHT NOW AND IT IS REALLY WEIGHING ME DOWN.

wow. where'd that come from? i am all growly.

more from the dalai lama

Ordinary compassion and love give rise to a very close feeling, but it is essentially attachment. As long as the other person appears to you as beautiful or good, love remains, but as soon as he or she appears to you as less beautiful or good, your love completely changes. . . . Instead of love, you now feel hostility. With genuine love and compassion, another person’s appearance or behavior has no effect on your attitude. Real compassion comes from seeing the other’s suffering. You feel a sense of responsibility, and you want to do something for him or her. — The Dalai Lama

email down down down

new firewall installed and it worked exceptionally well! so well that all of the email i have sent since saturday at 10AM may have been lost. so... if you haven't heard from me talk to the firewall. lemme see if i can find it's numbah... [hold on].

i would love to take this opportunity to tell the non-violent-method-challenged marcus that i responded to all of his pro-war diatribe! in total! i went out and read all those articles! and then responded! and i was brilliant! so brilliant you would be eating humble pie right now. ;) (heh). and begging forgiveness. i would say that the firewall burned up my email, but really and truly, i did respond.

but then that would be lying.

m.

long road to war

interesting show on frontline tonight... anyone else see it?

frontline took the shows they did on us/iraq in 12 years... from a show they did on us providing arms to iraq; to saddam's ruthless terror over its own citizens, kurds, and kuwaitis; to hiding weapons to hawks-neoreaganites and realist conservatives; to wishy-washy clinton era; to bush43 election; to sept 11; to today.... it took pieces from all and showed "the long road to war."

maybe you can see a rerun in your area.

the long road web site has links to all of the previous shows as well as links to chronology and other links to inform yourself.

it appeared to me that this was a fairly unbiased show. heh. but i'm not sure that i can tell unbiased anymore, so check it out and see for yourself.

flip the w in war and you get mar. :) la mar de mar. (the sea of i-can't-tell-what-is-biased-anymore... a great place to visit, not sure if you wanna live there.)

carsten's little bursts of brilliance

funny, it just occurred to me that constantly leaving things until later is strongly reminiscent of memory fragmentation. one could call it life fragmentation. life gets chopped up into smaller and smaller spaces during which one feels free and guilt-free. doing all the things that need doing leaves one with great big gobs of time free for the taking, wide-open life. — carsten w.

World Tibet Network News
Published by: The Canada Tibet Committee Editorial Board: Brian Given,
Conrad Richter, Nima Dorjee, Tseten Samdup, Thubten (Sam) Samdup WTN
Editors:
wtn-editors@tibet.ca
Thursday, March 13, 2003
Issue ID: 2003/03/13

-----------------------------------------
1. Full Text of His Holiness' Statement on Iraq
-----------------------------------------

DHARAMSALA, 11 March 2003 - His Holiness the Dalai Lama said that differences in opinion must be resolved through dialogue and discussion rather than settling them by waging wars. His Holiness the Dalai Lama said wars produce temporary victors and temporary losers and that the result of this kind of victory or defeat will not endure.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama was speaking at a special prayer session held in view of the threat of imminent war in Iraq. This special prayer session was part of the eight-day annual Great Prayer Festival that began today at the Tsuglhakhang, the main Buddhist cathedral opposite the residence of the Dalai Lama. The chairman and vice-chairperson of the Tibetan parliament, the officials of the Tibetan administration, the Buddhist clergy and the Tibetan public attended the first day of the annual Great Prayer Festival, which is organised by the Department of Religion and Culture of the Central Tibetan Administration.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama said, "The Iraq issue is becoming very critical...Now think of this. If there is any bloodshed, people in positions of power, those who are responsible, will find safe places and escape the consequent hardship. They will find safety for themselves, one way or the other. But what about the poor people, the defenceless, the children, the old and infirm? They are the ones who will have to bear the brunt of devastation."

His Holiness the Dalai Lama said the concept and the practice of war has become an anachronism and must be consigned to the dustbin of history.

Kalon Thubten Lungrig, the kalon for the Department of Religion and Culture of the Central Tibetan Administration opened the annual Great Prayer Festival by commenting that all Tibetans pray that the imminent war in Iraq could be averted and requested the members of the Buddhist clergy for their prayers.

Contact: Thubten Samphel/ Sonam N. Dagpo Secretary/ Addnl. Secretary
Dept. of Information & International Relations Central Tibetan
Administration
Dharamshala, INDIA Tel: +91-1892- 222510, 222457, 224662

-----------------------------------------
2. War is Anachronistic, an Outmoded Approach
-----------------------------------------

The following is the English translation of His Holiness the Dalai Lama's
statement to the Buddhist devotees on the first day of the Great Prayer Festival

The Iraq issue is becoming very critical now. War, or the kind of organized fighting, is something that came with the development of human civilization. It seems to have become part and parcel of human history or human temperament. At the same time, the world is changing dramatically. We have seen that we cannot solve human problems by fighting. Problems resulting from differences in opinion must be resolved through the gradual process of dialogue. Undoubtedly, wars produce victors and losers; but only temporarily. Victory or defeat resulting from wars cannot be long-lasting. Secondly, our world has become so interdependent that the defeat of one country must impact the rest of the word, or cause all of us to suffer losses either directly or indirectly.

Today, the world is so small and so interdependent that the concept of war has become anachronistic, an outmoded approach. As a rule, we always talk about reform and changes. Among the old traditions, there are many aspects that are either ill-suited to our present reality or are counterproductive due to their shortsightedness. These, we have consigned to the dustbin of history. War too should be relegated to the dustbin of history.

Unfortunately, although we are in the 21st century, we still have not been able to get rid of the habit of our older generations. I am talking about the belief or confidence that we can solve our problems with arms. It is because of this notion that the world continues to be dogged by all kinds of problems.

But what can we do? What can we do when big powers have already made up their minds? All we can do is to pray for a gradual end to the tradition of wars. Of course, the militaristic tradition may not end easily. But, let us think of this. If there were bloodshed, people in positions of power, or those who are responsible, will find safe places; they will escape the consequent hardship. They will find safety for themselves, one way or the other. But what about the poor people, the defenseless people, the children, the old and infirm. They are the ones who will have to bear the brunt of devastation. When weapons are fired, the result will be death and destruction. Weapons will not discriminate between the innocent and guilty.

A missile, once fired, will show no respect to the innocent, poor, defenseless, or those worthy of compassion. Therefore, the real losers will be the poor and defenseless, ones who are completely innocent, and those who lead a hand-to-mouth existence.

On the positive side, we now have people volunteer medical care, aid, and other humanitarian assistance in war-torn regions. This is a heart-winning development of the modern age.

Okay, now, let us pray that there be no war at all, if possible. However, if a war does break out, let us pray that there be a minimum bloodshed and hardship. I don't know whether our prayers will be of any practical help. But this is all we can do for the moment.

Translated and issued by: The Department of Information and International Relations Central Tibetan Administration Dharamsala
-----------------------------------------

guitar update

in november i broke my guitar. a beater that i loved and held close to my heart. fixing it would cost a pocketful, and though the guitar is valuable to me sentimentally, it's not a collector's item in even the widest possible interpretation. it was the guitar you could take camping and not worry about it as it got hot in your tent, or if sand got it in, or passing it around the campfire. all of these added to it's value to me, though.

scott, a l.p. castmember works for national guitar and very very graciously offered to fix it. he said he needed the experience. he said he'd be happy to. i didn't have any expectations. i'd already mourned it's loss. so with nothing more to lose, i put the broken wood and steel strings into this hands.

and i got it back -- one peice. (what a thoughtful guy -- if anyone has ideas on an appropriate thank you please let me know).

and man, i had forgotten how much i love playing on steel strings. the sounds is so much... fuller... bigger... breezier... and just beg the vocals to open up as well. so nice to play it again. the fret buzz is still a problem, but now i'm wondering if that is a metal bridge problem... maybe if it had a different bridge?

play update

my dad and janet came to the play this weekend. my legs were shaking on stage. i was worried. would they like? would they think it was emotionally manipulative? would it be too long? would we be too "community theatre"?

they loved it! or at least so they said — and i believe them. it meant a lot to me that they would drive four-and-a-half hours to come and see it. extra perks from having them in town = dinner at novo (really yummy; consistently yummy.), champagne at blue, breakfast at big sky, and browsing at habitat. they spent yesterday in paso robles at the zin festival and gave a glowing report. they came back with cases of wine and a painting. plus winemakers dinner with the le couvier folks. now they are heading back behind the orange curtain. i wish they lived closer.

the next night kristin and bret came. i wasn't nervous — those two are notoriously supportive and i love them both for that — and sweet l'il kb had flowers for both me and carrie. tulips and lillies. so nice!

sunday update

work work work work work work work. so i guess i'd better get off my butt and get into the office. tho am tempted to get office treats to reward self for going in. new candle? new cd? christmas lights? or just go for the tried-and-true bit of jewely (new bracelets can be fairly motivating). or just suck it up and go in?

less than an hour away

"Vandenberg air base OKs "deadly force" action" reports the associated press. vandenberg is less than an hour from my house.

overheard between work cubes... and the Atlantic ocean

aj: there's a country called ascension?
mary g: it's off the coast of madagascar.
aj: check out the big brain on mary!
mary g: watch out, it's filling up my cube!

and then the descending geographical forces weighed in from edinburgh:

Ascension is an island in the Atlantic ocean. It's part of the British
Commonwealth. It is not a country, nor is it off the coast of Madagascar, which
is an island in the Indian ocean.

I don't know what Mary's big brain is full of but it ain't geography!

— Steve B.

resting in a state of unrest

Today I was kicking into my usual worry/analysis mode re. the state of the world. As if I was the one on whose shoulders the fate of that world rested, as if I had to give a speech to the security council next Tuesday. Just then I realized that it doesn't matter what I think, and all my pondering is simply a way to try and manage my anxiety and aggression, under some 'noble' mandate; the Importance of Figuring it Out.

I'm not advocating ignorance here; far from it, after all my thinking has been 90% oriented towards keeping me just that; word smart and 'safe' in that refuge- a clever technique.

So, I ask myself- can I rest with the anxiety/aggression without trying to manage it with opinions? It's so exausting, maintaining that strategy of control. Can I rest with a broken heart? I have faith that if I can do that, at least I'll do no harm, and maximize my chances for knowing how to help.

But will I be brave enough to actually do this? It's so wonderful, and terrible, that every moment gives me another chance. To open my heart to things just as they are. One thing about this world in times of war- it's a great opportunity for both cowardice and bravery.


— Tharpa D

Shambhala Day 2003

Strange now
after all the magic
which some saw,
some didn't

Strange now
the show is over
and the world will
continue as before today

But if you remember
where you were today
someday you will be thankful

Forget your thoughts
not your experience.
There are moments of clarity
on the long journey.

— John Tischer

a nice way to start an email

from an email: "I'm doing good.....though I feel like playing guitar with you today."

i wish i got more email like that. :)

god, i feel like i've been in a funk for a week. and it's starting to effect me physically -- i feel really rundown. so am going home to go boldly back to bed. covers-over-the-head work wonders right? will someone wake me when it's spring?

and speekina spring, there is a "undies run" on the first day of spring through the streets of downtown slo. no no, i won't be there. but my good, sweet friend jenn (BNE) will...

beautiful soup : post script

ooh! one more to check out from nigel. this one's called almost naked. it's from backwoods and forwards. i love it.

web meanderings

i think i like just about everything at witold riedel's. it's like a little sunday drive. or an afternoon in a cafe. nice chat. cool things to look at. a seemingly warm heart.

nigel's back from a brief hiatus, which should create a small bit of internet applause. nigel's words meander around him like streams with exclamation points and teasing commas. but his photos — they'll break your heart every time. nigel may be a pup in the grand scheme of things, but his eye is strictly old soul.

scroll to the bottom of this page to see some of his really great older ones. i remember two years ago when going to nigel's site was a daily web journey for me. what image would lay awaiting? and he's had some of the more creative web names out there. especially backwoods and forwards. i loved that.

eight performances down. eight more to go. saying the words on stage almost feels like... remember when you were a kid and you'd have to spell and spell and spell a word over and over and pretty soon the letters seemed foreign and the word no longer made sense? i'm almost there with my lines. what do they mean? am i saying them correctly? can you understand them?

i've really enjoyed meeting and getting to know the cast and crew. i dig it when you see somebody's personality unfold. maybe it was out there all along and it was just your eye that needed to unfold, to open up to see them? i love that process. that little get to know you surprise. maybe that sounds corny. i'm too lazy to edit it to make it sound meaningful or at least compact.

tonight dan and i caught the last showing of about schmidt. that is a painful movie to sit through and thank god for the laughs. but who are you laughing at? at whose expense? it's like they found every awkward, alienated, painful part of life and put it on the screen. it should have been in black and white. but, i guess the washed out colors served it better.

and the landscape.

so many people say they hate the flat plains... and i realized... maybe that is where the clouds are the tallest, the steepest, the most showiest? everything balances out. you just have to know where to look to get the beautiful scenery.

but man, between dermot mulroney's hair and kathy bates baring all in the hot tub -- those are actors who have a lot of guts. hard movie to watch.

overheard

mark chester (head of our it dept), looking over my shoulder: how come there are so many unread emails in your outlook that say from Mark Chester??!!

overheard

friendX: my father was a drunk and a stoner. well, is a drunk and a stoner. well, is a stoner. my mom, bless her heart, moved us from humboldt to santa cruz, to take us out of that scene.

marya's comment: isn't that like moving from vegas to reno?

tonight i am sad

and i can't get into it here, as i am not a confessional blogger. i'm a just-skim-the-surface-and-talk-about-the-fun-things blogger. but it was a hard day and it has just left me a little sad. sad and exhausted. you know that feeling you get in your eyes after you swim a lot of laps? anyway... stupid lent! i gave up all my security-blanket behavior (except for avoidance — so at least i have some cozy patterns to fall back on) for the next forty days and forty nights. so it just figures that ash wednesday brings challenges and obstacles.

can i get a sigh?

more and more from the subway

from witold riedel i find many interesting things. first there are his little subway drawings. which i love. no, first was the man-and-sock-dog picture, which brought us to witold in the first place. and then it was the subway drawings. and then there was just the plethora of many other things to see and read and do and interact with — internal links to his own projects and external links to many a surprising place.

today it was an introduction to david crawford. check out the subway stop motion series. awesome.

i'll leave you with a quote

The everyday practice is simply to develop a complete acceptance and openness to all situations and emotions, and to all people, experiencing everything totally without mental reservations and blockages, so that one never withdraws or centralizes into oneself. — Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche

and more music happiness

stu is addicted to the alt-country. i take some responsibility in his unquenchable thirst simply because i ran out of jay farrar cds to lend him right when he was at this music-thirstyest. ;) so on a mission he is! last night, surfing for more and more alt-country pushers, i mean radio stations, he stumbled into radiowa (think radio and iowa). the dj commented that noone was calling in with requests. so stu sent him an email and mentioned he was in a band called the rattlesnake creek band. next thing he knows the dj plays three of his songs in a row. followed by an uncle tupelo tune (stu, i says, yer sharing the airwaves with u.t.!).

cut to today. trcb made the front page of radiowa. granted. it's a small link. no graphic. but it's front and center, baby.

for your ears

music and words to work to in crazy times.

war on drugs (bill hicks).
nuclear war (yo la tengo).

downloads from salon. i love salon.

meanwhile very nice patrick who is an intern here at ye ol' dub-ay and a horn player in a local ska band (not to mention current Cal Poly GrC student... a department of which i am also a product) dropped off "in between" by jazzanova. whatchya listening to? he asked and when i said yo la tengo he said "don't move!" and trotted back to his desk. when he came back he had a ylt mix cd and i've been listening to it ever since.

happy ears.

creativity

my friend macker is studying creativity. this both excites me for him — because you should always be excited for someone who is learning about something that really excites them and gets them all riled up for living juicy — and aggrivates me in some small hangnail way.

studying creativity. in someway... this almost seems like on oxymoron. i mean... studying, dissectiving, researching... . . . just go out there and BE creative! be. create. do. go. talk. sing. skip. swash. shwip. jump. stack. smash. scream. or let the creative silence envelop you.

i don't think i could ever study the field of creativity because for me... god, i think it would suck the life blood right out of there for me.

sucking the life blood right out of me seems to be an ongoing theme lately.

i've never really been the type of person who would think that something else is awful. but lately... man. i seem overwhelmed with thoughts of different professions and how having to do them would suck the life blood right out of me. suck me dry. leave me like a forgotton maple leaf, curled up and parched in a vacant parking lot.

anyway... macker's latest class is about "evaluating measurements of creativity" and just that phrase makes my face twist up and my eyebrows swoop down. and the only thing that comes to mind is.... why?

isn't creativity subjective and isn't that the beauty of it? and why does it need to be classified or judged or categorized or any of those things? see -- those things seem the very antithesis to creativity. those things are the evildoers. they are the terrorist machines ready to ram into our creative towers. (okay -- i should be disqualified to write anything further after those horrific metaphors). you know what i mean.

and this will end my rant, but... what has really been irking me lately is money. and how money has gone beyond the root of all evil and has simply become the root of all -- if you are considered to be a decent human being. it seems as if they only motivating factor these days. people buy hospitals to make money. workers rely on their employers for retirement etc but these same employers have the benefit of not respecting pension plans so that the company can stay afloat. and i am surrounded by people everywhere -- am i one of them? -- that are doing things that do not make their hearts sing. what is the It for you? -- the best the most wonderful the heartpumpingly proud as all hell thing you could be doing?

sigh.

anyway. i wish i could say, macker, put down that coursework and go spend some time out in nature and paint and write and make up words and skip on your way home and shout into the wind.

can you say... hero?

the esquire mr. rogers yoo-googly, aka meow meow says bye meow (so says henrietta pussycat... the all-time least sexy feline name of all time... daniel striped tiger is much cuter.). i'm not ashamed to say i was a big mr. rogers fan pre-kindergarten. who wasn't? and where has all that softness gone? we need more softness (... dammit!)

subways and sketchbooks

subway life. a little taste of the underground world.

hit parade

so, the first weekend is done. four shows. fun. the matinee on saturday was questionable — strictly blue hair. no laughing. and the house was only half full.

saturday night was better and my mom, stepdad, and grandma came and they loved it, so i loved it because by this point i am hungry for praise (praise ho). my gram might come to watch it again. she is so sweet. i love her. and she loved the play.

anyway...

there are a lot of "real" actors in the play. or "real" performers. people who've been acting forever. people with their MFAs. people who've moved up from l.a. people who've done more productions than they can count.

one of the guys, his mom is a famous theater person in nyc -- he said he has met every black actor who's made it for the last fifty years or so. sidney poitier? i asked, skeptically. yep. denzel. yep. remembers denzel from when he was a child. and on and on.

the woman who plays my mother is a real kick in the pants. she had a gold record back in 1957 or so called "rebel." she toured with bob hope twice in korea. played vegas for years— when the flamingo was the only hotel. she's done over 250 commercials — from "underalls" to being with mr. whipple for "please don't squeeze the charmin."

and then there's us newbies.

my newest theatre phrase: when the stage manager says "places in 3 minutes" you say "thank you three." or when she says "places" you say, "thank you places."

meanwhile, today was the mardi gras parade.

because slo has deemed mardi gras too dangerous, too drunken, too debaucherized (debaucherlyful? debauchtastic?), as well as too bead- and boob-centered, the mardi gras parade was changed to sunday afternoon.

the local paper's headline was "party like it's sunday afternoon!" .

so it was on sunday afternoon, and that did put a damper on things, but there was still a good turn out. i was part of the bikerider contingency. and we wore funny clothes and decorated our bikes and threw beads.

truly, though the great part of mardi gras is, when else do you get to wear fishnets and ho boots? in san luis you don't have much opportunity for it. so you gotta grab it while the goin' is good.

our crew gives you an option: ride a bike or come on skates. next time i'm going on skates. one of the guys wore his bright blue speedo, sunglasses, rollerskates and his guitar slung across him. on his back in lipstick were the words "love! love! love!" he looks like leonardo di caprio with black hair. he was the parade-spotlight-hog and thank god for him. i think he did the route a minimum of three times. by the end he had quite a few dollar bills stuck in the elastic of his speedos.

but now i'm exhausted. so tired. and i have all of this personal stuff to do that i never had time for. and must got to work very early. sooooo...