Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Livin' In Our Hearts

in this hour on this day, four years ago, watching dear family member take last breaths. happy thanksgiving. it is the way of living, of loving. sorrow is a part of life. grief: reminding us of the joy of being a part of someone's life for a time and making it more precious because it ends. I have a hard time not really disliking thanksgiving: "how was your Thnxgivng?" "oh, you know... relived the death of beloved lady, ate turkey or whatever it was, felt like a horrible person watching people smile, petulant four year old doesn't deserve my loving family, and you?" So this year, I step away from the computer (if it means accepting consequences for goals unmet, so be it), take a walk in the trees because I have them in this dear, beautiful place, and offer a toast instead--

Here's to you: Gassho, Selah, Hiraeth, and Amen. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life; celebrating life through death--remembering the impermanence, the love, the joy.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Day 2/3: Dublin

Whew, rough day. However, I am happy to say that I have successfully navigated myself around probably the biggest city I've wandered in. but it was for a good cause: the book of Kells and the Old Library, Trinity College. holy. freaking. cow. I can't really convey how awe-inspiring that was; this is as close as I can get: I must now wallow in medieval geekery or go join the first 11th century monastery to devote my life to binding/decorating incredibly intricate gospel collections--it's a toss-up, really....

That was the highlight of the day really. I did not get lost, a first, and that has given me all kinds of hope for success, though I am still having to duck out of crowds in high traffic times. It seems that people operate on a much later schedule than I am accustomed to. I have begun every morning thinking, "you know, this really isn't so bad--why was I worried about this?" Then around 1 or 2, when people come out in droves, I eat my words again. but it is also cheering to know that I have that early morning time to get used to the traffic before it really becomes an issue. I've been dedicating a number of hours each day to solving problems as they come up, though they seem to keep building at a rather alarming rate. That and the constant movement (did I leave anything, where to go, how to get there, etc) has left me little time to concentrate on other things, but I can only see this getting better with time. Anyhow, really too overwhelming at the moment to make anything particularly philosophical out of it, but I'm sure I can work on something. Hopefully moving on to GB tomorrow.

Friday, April 17, 2009

"I must meet this man"

I do believe this college applicant is my hero. at very least, I would dearly love to meet anyone who would (and could) write this:

In order for the admissions staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better, we ask that you answer the following question:
Are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a Mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

"barreleye fish," Macropinna microstoma

ok, this is just cool...