blazenly tired
eyes working but burn for rest
sleepless moments building space for memories to come
excitement
moving into the unknown
a new beginning
with adventure and fun and friendship and love
living
breathing seeing
tasting
listening
hearing
feeling
in no particular order
on deror ni culparrtia
what's next is unsure
but a night's rest is calling me pure
and come what may
i must hit the hay
because a good night's rest, is calling me,
pure
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
night sounds cooking
hot hazy night after a hot hazy day
yellow moon hangs almost full
sometimes a breeze comes through the open windows
right now is pretty quiet, just after midnight, only some music softly wailing in the distance
it sounds like a song of longing and pain
earlier there was a lengthy loud argument on the street between a few young women
it was disturbing to listen to
eventually it ended, and although un-amicably, there was no physical violence
but the violence of words assaulted the half block within earshot like the heat assaulted the day
I wonder what gets in to people
to make people act so undignified and without remorse
i guess a thousand reasons
but none seem good enough
i feel like the winding river is over me
steamy air has settled in
and like an old southern day, its going nowhere
temperature intoxicating
dizzying remedies don't work
all you can do is to give in
and pray for better
pray for better
thirsty for more
your quench is burned
and nothing satisfies
only stones to toss in the river
is what you get
watch them ripple
and fade like mist,
like night to day
yellow moon hangs almost full
sometimes a breeze comes through the open windows
right now is pretty quiet, just after midnight, only some music softly wailing in the distance
it sounds like a song of longing and pain
earlier there was a lengthy loud argument on the street between a few young women
it was disturbing to listen to
eventually it ended, and although un-amicably, there was no physical violence
but the violence of words assaulted the half block within earshot like the heat assaulted the day
I wonder what gets in to people
to make people act so undignified and without remorse
i guess a thousand reasons
but none seem good enough
i feel like the winding river is over me
steamy air has settled in
and like an old southern day, its going nowhere
temperature intoxicating
dizzying remedies don't work
all you can do is to give in
and pray for better
pray for better
thirsty for more
your quench is burned
and nothing satisfies
only stones to toss in the river
is what you get
watch them ripple
and fade like mist,
like night to day
Friday, June 22, 2007
lurch
I remember my boss saying: 'some people think everything happens for a reason- I don't. Some things just happen.'
I had just walked out of work the day before and my boss was rightfully angry with me. I was not in a good place and was tired of driving around Seattle's surrounding area in a dinky van with "fresh made" pasta, delivering to fine dining establishments and some grocery stores. Traffic was not pleasant and I had never lived there so being a driver didn't make sense, but they needed a driver and it paid better than the job I had originally gone out for, which was working behind a counter in their Pike Place Market shop. They had really good food, and the market is located in such a nice location on the water by all the touristy shops near where they toss the fish on ice and yell and stuff. It may have been better to just ask for the original job, where I may have stayed happy longer. But I guess everything happens for a reason.
Instead of the world of sunshine (yes the sun sun shines there too) on the Puget Sound I ended up in a grey industrial area that is not far from another nice body of water, but there were no people walking gleefully on these streets. It was into the factory where a small group of people made everything from sundried tomato linguine to spinach and cheese ravioli. It was a strange experience, just witnessing the operation and the reality of production. I admired that it was a small scale place and still doing well. Yet every day in there seemed grey no matter how much sunlight was beaming outside. I felt lucky to be able to drive around and see the area. The worst feeling of walking out was the fact that it was a small group of people and this was their livelihood. I had to go back to work and see everyone, and that was a challenge but I am glad I did. Its hard to describe the sort of blankness I saw in the routine of labor, which seemed to underscore much of what I learned and focused on while in Seattle. There are so many union workers who work repetitive jobs that are necessary to keep the cogs and wheels rolling in society. And a lot of dispute goes on determining who deserves what. But this place was different, it was small and private. Of course there is no excuse for leaving unexpectedly, but I just couldn't take anymore driving pasta around one day in the middle of a shift and I left leaving the boss with the task of delivery. So he wasn't pleased.
Its only pasta, but it is really the principle of behavior that was the bigger issue at hand. Obviously it was not going to be a longterm job in all probability, but it was a job.
In the interview for the job, which took place at a coffee shop, two or three people walking by said hi to me. These were recent acquaintances, as I had only been there a month or so and knew only one person slightly who was not one of the people who walked by. So these were basically all strangers saying hi, but the boss felt that this was a good sign, and even though I was new to town it seemed to him that I was settling in nicely. So I felt lucky at first and did enjoy some of the scenery and driving when the traffic was good. I remember going south on a highway to Olympia, and the mountains surrounding were vivid and large, and next to the road were low-lying puddles with marsh grass. Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Chile playing on the radio "...next to a mountain, chop it down, with the edge of his hand". The world was immense, and as one friend in Tacoma put it, "It feels like gravity is heavier here". I remember seeing in the distance all the huge docking cranes on the water, reddish orange, hunching, lifting, moving slowly, archaically, and thinking that they were massive long neck dinosaurs, reincarnate.
On my long walk to work in the mornings I would sometimes trek through high fenced areas under highways, climbing and jumping on loose dirt and fill rocks, smelling the scent of wet cement in the misty air. The concrete juxtaposed against tree lined islands and radiant views of Mt Tahoma, a giant looming volcano akin to Fuji, made for interesting dynamics. Not far from my mind were social issues of the day, in the wake of a big protest against the World Trade Organization, which I came out to Seattle originally for after hearing it happened and being interested in finding out what people had to say and to find out more about what was happening in the world of current events, which I had not been paying much attention to in the months previous. Going over my thoughts, walking down the steep hill, which I would have to walk up after the day was done, I was able to enjoy some nice tree lined streets, and houses with steppe gardens accompanying tall staircases. It was quite beautiful. But under the freeway, that is where I was seeing reality at the time, thinking about the Kurt Cobain type angst that was borne from this area, or more correctly stated perhaps, the area that articulated so well that broadly experienced angst, and even made the word common vocabulary. What was done was done, and we all take from events and occurrences different things, some more similar than others. What matters is that we can all see and share what we make of something.
Does everything happen for a reason? Who knows. But maybe my boss saying that was for a reason. I mean, wouldn't that be just classic.
Singing loudly to myself on the highway, going somewhere new. Trying to explain to the new guy I am training that I found this to be the number one perk of the job. He ended up passing on the job. Could it have been, for a reason?
I had just walked out of work the day before and my boss was rightfully angry with me. I was not in a good place and was tired of driving around Seattle's surrounding area in a dinky van with "fresh made" pasta, delivering to fine dining establishments and some grocery stores. Traffic was not pleasant and I had never lived there so being a driver didn't make sense, but they needed a driver and it paid better than the job I had originally gone out for, which was working behind a counter in their Pike Place Market shop. They had really good food, and the market is located in such a nice location on the water by all the touristy shops near where they toss the fish on ice and yell and stuff. It may have been better to just ask for the original job, where I may have stayed happy longer. But I guess everything happens for a reason.
Instead of the world of sunshine (yes the sun sun shines there too) on the Puget Sound I ended up in a grey industrial area that is not far from another nice body of water, but there were no people walking gleefully on these streets. It was into the factory where a small group of people made everything from sundried tomato linguine to spinach and cheese ravioli. It was a strange experience, just witnessing the operation and the reality of production. I admired that it was a small scale place and still doing well. Yet every day in there seemed grey no matter how much sunlight was beaming outside. I felt lucky to be able to drive around and see the area. The worst feeling of walking out was the fact that it was a small group of people and this was their livelihood. I had to go back to work and see everyone, and that was a challenge but I am glad I did. Its hard to describe the sort of blankness I saw in the routine of labor, which seemed to underscore much of what I learned and focused on while in Seattle. There are so many union workers who work repetitive jobs that are necessary to keep the cogs and wheels rolling in society. And a lot of dispute goes on determining who deserves what. But this place was different, it was small and private. Of course there is no excuse for leaving unexpectedly, but I just couldn't take anymore driving pasta around one day in the middle of a shift and I left leaving the boss with the task of delivery. So he wasn't pleased.
Its only pasta, but it is really the principle of behavior that was the bigger issue at hand. Obviously it was not going to be a longterm job in all probability, but it was a job.
In the interview for the job, which took place at a coffee shop, two or three people walking by said hi to me. These were recent acquaintances, as I had only been there a month or so and knew only one person slightly who was not one of the people who walked by. So these were basically all strangers saying hi, but the boss felt that this was a good sign, and even though I was new to town it seemed to him that I was settling in nicely. So I felt lucky at first and did enjoy some of the scenery and driving when the traffic was good. I remember going south on a highway to Olympia, and the mountains surrounding were vivid and large, and next to the road were low-lying puddles with marsh grass. Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Chile playing on the radio "...next to a mountain, chop it down, with the edge of his hand". The world was immense, and as one friend in Tacoma put it, "It feels like gravity is heavier here". I remember seeing in the distance all the huge docking cranes on the water, reddish orange, hunching, lifting, moving slowly, archaically, and thinking that they were massive long neck dinosaurs, reincarnate.
On my long walk to work in the mornings I would sometimes trek through high fenced areas under highways, climbing and jumping on loose dirt and fill rocks, smelling the scent of wet cement in the misty air. The concrete juxtaposed against tree lined islands and radiant views of Mt Tahoma, a giant looming volcano akin to Fuji, made for interesting dynamics. Not far from my mind were social issues of the day, in the wake of a big protest against the World Trade Organization, which I came out to Seattle originally for after hearing it happened and being interested in finding out what people had to say and to find out more about what was happening in the world of current events, which I had not been paying much attention to in the months previous. Going over my thoughts, walking down the steep hill, which I would have to walk up after the day was done, I was able to enjoy some nice tree lined streets, and houses with steppe gardens accompanying tall staircases. It was quite beautiful. But under the freeway, that is where I was seeing reality at the time, thinking about the Kurt Cobain type angst that was borne from this area, or more correctly stated perhaps, the area that articulated so well that broadly experienced angst, and even made the word common vocabulary. What was done was done, and we all take from events and occurrences different things, some more similar than others. What matters is that we can all see and share what we make of something.
Does everything happen for a reason? Who knows. But maybe my boss saying that was for a reason. I mean, wouldn't that be just classic.
Singing loudly to myself on the highway, going somewhere new. Trying to explain to the new guy I am training that I found this to be the number one perk of the job. He ended up passing on the job. Could it have been, for a reason?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Wake me not
Accepted to go to a Hawaiian island to live and grow vegetables and milk goats and feed chickens and steal their eggs. Very exciting time. As if getting married wasn't enough. My cup runneth over.
I was talking to a native New Yorker about his time here and how it has changed from when he lived here. We digressed and the topic of my grandparents being from here was news to him, as he knew I was from Maryland, but I had not told him I had roots going back here, it just skipped the generation of my Dad. And he described that 'in-tuneness' of having some kind of genetic connection to a place even though I had not grown up here at all with an appropriate term, but I cannot remember it right now. But as I was thinking about it, it reminds me of how on a computer you can try to go back a couple cyber pages and sometimes you will see something to the effect that : This blah blah contains postdata blah blah blah.... I feel like that might be a way to describe in crude cold technical terms the way that sheet of reminiscent residue akin to deja-vu can be evoked simply by walking the streets in a certain neighborhood, as if it was all fresh and good and palpable in the genes from my grandparents, but then the inherent territorial knowledge and instincts of the place lay dormant for a while, but with a gust of wind, a scent of a particular baked good, or the light reflecting off a melting aged window, the past and present reconnect with fiberoptic speed and clarity. Its like generational genetic postdata. And it means so much more profoundly deep emotions that a 5 year old technical term that I don't fully understand means.
Perhaps when you take something as unfamiliar and unwarm as a computer brain- heartless and mechanical- you can break down something as abstract as a post generational mental refresh more easily.
I was also thinking today about how I am glad in my life I was able to witness first hand the change into the digital mode of operating. People regularly checking email, doing all kinds of stuff online, when as a kid it was not in the landscape of reality. We had a commodore 64 computer, but as far as I knew it was made to play games like Pitfall and Karate something or other and I could name a bunch of others but you get the idea. It only occurred to me that there might be something bigger here when my brother Brian (who now works with computers) showed us the technology of a modem? with the telephone and how you could type a message or something. I think my response to that marvel was that why would you type when you could just call someone. Apparently I was not an investor for microsoft.
Anyway, more to the point, I am glad I got to see this change, this marvel of wonder, in the before and after stages, like the automobile of our times- changing everything. Computers are a vehicle and just about everyone is driving, and if not, you are at least smelling the fumes. Or perhaps going for a surf.
I am not really a "computer person" but they sure are handy at times. They can also serve as a great distraction. As with everything, there are pluses and minuses.
Mainly I am excited about living somewhere and trying to learn about gardening and living eco friendly and slowig down to pace of human life as I dream about it. Working hard but living well. And adding something positive that makes you glad to be alive when you see it, feel it, taste it, touch it, hear it. Got all five? The Who would be proud. Its my generation, baby. It will be challenging but we are up for it. Its so nice to have a supportive family and friends. SO nice. It makes everything better and seemingly more manageable. I would like to see the world be like this in general with people treating each other in a manner they would their direct family. Its a stretch but they say some stretching is good for healthy muscle growth.
So I was ired and my eyes were burning but my mind is going so I am burning the wick here, typing out anxiety and excitement, but mostly excitement. I sometimes have to tell myself- hey, be excited, because I can forget how awesome an opportunity or moment of enjoyment is at hand. And I am glad for that little yellow string I tie on my finger, so I can savor this. Even if for some reason it never happens, I will have soul soaked in the rays of that bright possibility. And like the saying of its better to have loved.... Well, its better to have dreamed.
I was talking to a native New Yorker about his time here and how it has changed from when he lived here. We digressed and the topic of my grandparents being from here was news to him, as he knew I was from Maryland, but I had not told him I had roots going back here, it just skipped the generation of my Dad. And he described that 'in-tuneness' of having some kind of genetic connection to a place even though I had not grown up here at all with an appropriate term, but I cannot remember it right now. But as I was thinking about it, it reminds me of how on a computer you can try to go back a couple cyber pages and sometimes you will see something to the effect that : This blah blah contains postdata blah blah blah.... I feel like that might be a way to describe in crude cold technical terms the way that sheet of reminiscent residue akin to deja-vu can be evoked simply by walking the streets in a certain neighborhood, as if it was all fresh and good and palpable in the genes from my grandparents, but then the inherent territorial knowledge and instincts of the place lay dormant for a while, but with a gust of wind, a scent of a particular baked good, or the light reflecting off a melting aged window, the past and present reconnect with fiberoptic speed and clarity. Its like generational genetic postdata. And it means so much more profoundly deep emotions that a 5 year old technical term that I don't fully understand means.
Perhaps when you take something as unfamiliar and unwarm as a computer brain- heartless and mechanical- you can break down something as abstract as a post generational mental refresh more easily.
I was also thinking today about how I am glad in my life I was able to witness first hand the change into the digital mode of operating. People regularly checking email, doing all kinds of stuff online, when as a kid it was not in the landscape of reality. We had a commodore 64 computer, but as far as I knew it was made to play games like Pitfall and Karate something or other and I could name a bunch of others but you get the idea. It only occurred to me that there might be something bigger here when my brother Brian (who now works with computers) showed us the technology of a modem? with the telephone and how you could type a message or something. I think my response to that marvel was that why would you type when you could just call someone. Apparently I was not an investor for microsoft.
Anyway, more to the point, I am glad I got to see this change, this marvel of wonder, in the before and after stages, like the automobile of our times- changing everything. Computers are a vehicle and just about everyone is driving, and if not, you are at least smelling the fumes. Or perhaps going for a surf.
I am not really a "computer person" but they sure are handy at times. They can also serve as a great distraction. As with everything, there are pluses and minuses.
Mainly I am excited about living somewhere and trying to learn about gardening and living eco friendly and slowig down to pace of human life as I dream about it. Working hard but living well. And adding something positive that makes you glad to be alive when you see it, feel it, taste it, touch it, hear it. Got all five? The Who would be proud. Its my generation, baby. It will be challenging but we are up for it. Its so nice to have a supportive family and friends. SO nice. It makes everything better and seemingly more manageable. I would like to see the world be like this in general with people treating each other in a manner they would their direct family. Its a stretch but they say some stretching is good for healthy muscle growth.
So I was ired and my eyes were burning but my mind is going so I am burning the wick here, typing out anxiety and excitement, but mostly excitement. I sometimes have to tell myself- hey, be excited, because I can forget how awesome an opportunity or moment of enjoyment is at hand. And I am glad for that little yellow string I tie on my finger, so I can savor this. Even if for some reason it never happens, I will have soul soaked in the rays of that bright possibility. And like the saying of its better to have loved.... Well, its better to have dreamed.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Beginning with frish eyes
all is well in getting ready to marry world. also on the horizon may be a move to beautiful islands in the Pacific Ocean that are currently characterized as being a state in the union of fifty which makes up the USA. No more clues. Pretty exciting. Also yesterday I took pictures of the little squirrel statues that are on a book shelf and incorporated the blue-glass wine bottle into some funky shots. I take way too many pictures and haven't the funds to develop them, so I must learn how to use the technology of home production with the scanner that is still in the box. It makes a nice rest for mail and hats right now. Still haven't felt at home completely here after a few months and now we are looking to leave and so all the better I suppose. I will miss the incessant conveniences here in the city but will have to find a way to get over them and come back into a different type of reality. It is amazing how many different realities co-exist simultaneously, and yet there are certain laws which apply to all. Like everyone likes good sparkling wine, not the kind that gives you a hangover. And- if you call it champagne, it still tastes as good or better even if it isn't from France. Wine is from all over the place, and thankfully the people who made the first wine didn't say that if the same drink was made somewhere else than they couldn't call it wine. Because that would be ridiculous.
You know, today I realized what being lazy is: Its when you have to brush your teeth but you eat mint chocolate chip ice cream instead.
Speaking of monkeys swinging on vines, I watched some rock group Phish video footage on youtube today and it was neat to see some of their millennium concert in Big Cypress Florida. I wondered how the Native Americans reacted to such a scene. What an insane event. Yet, during guitarist Trey Anastasio's interview with Charlie Rose, it was actually quite humbly put in a sincere way that he and drummer Jon Fishman realized after an all night set at the 2000 beginning, that it was time to call it quits. I had a lot of fun at some of the Phish shows I saw. Also made some bad mistakes at some. But it was fun and the electric vibe was so contagious just watching some of the footage brought me back. Maybe I am getting old. I am glad to not crave that insanity though. For the most part anyhow. It was alive and raw, melting and vivacious, complex and a hoot. And just great music, the kind that really connects to the universe at large and small. Or at least makes its best attempt to and succeeds frequently. So apparently that event was on to behold in a special way, and for the 70,000 people there I am sure a good 25,000 remember the event and will hold it dear in their hearts.
So as loose ends tie together like a pair laces on beat up sneakers, I look bak in my life before a great new step forward. And unlike a substance induced memory loss, I am sure that the upcoming event of wedding will provide ample anxiety and nerves which will change the event from one of distinct memories into a memory of overall feeling, one of love.
That is unless the brownies catch fire and burn hair which will make the smell drive people out into the water in their fancy get-ups and lead to hysterical crying and drunken madness. But I think it'll be just fine. I will make sure that the wedding brownies are baked on low so as to not burn the hair in the chocolate sauce.
Everything is going to be juuust fine.
You know, today I realized what being lazy is: Its when you have to brush your teeth but you eat mint chocolate chip ice cream instead.
Speaking of monkeys swinging on vines, I watched some rock group Phish video footage on youtube today and it was neat to see some of their millennium concert in Big Cypress Florida. I wondered how the Native Americans reacted to such a scene. What an insane event. Yet, during guitarist Trey Anastasio's interview with Charlie Rose, it was actually quite humbly put in a sincere way that he and drummer Jon Fishman realized after an all night set at the 2000 beginning, that it was time to call it quits. I had a lot of fun at some of the Phish shows I saw. Also made some bad mistakes at some. But it was fun and the electric vibe was so contagious just watching some of the footage brought me back. Maybe I am getting old. I am glad to not crave that insanity though. For the most part anyhow. It was alive and raw, melting and vivacious, complex and a hoot. And just great music, the kind that really connects to the universe at large and small. Or at least makes its best attempt to and succeeds frequently. So apparently that event was on to behold in a special way, and for the 70,000 people there I am sure a good 25,000 remember the event and will hold it dear in their hearts.
So as loose ends tie together like a pair laces on beat up sneakers, I look bak in my life before a great new step forward. And unlike a substance induced memory loss, I am sure that the upcoming event of wedding will provide ample anxiety and nerves which will change the event from one of distinct memories into a memory of overall feeling, one of love.
That is unless the brownies catch fire and burn hair which will make the smell drive people out into the water in their fancy get-ups and lead to hysterical crying and drunken madness. But I think it'll be just fine. I will make sure that the wedding brownies are baked on low so as to not burn the hair in the chocolate sauce.
Everything is going to be juuust fine.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Startin it off
Today is the initial toe dabbling in the water of Blog. I am here sitting in our orange living room, and bright as the "mango" colored painted walls may be, the clouds have cooled the summer air outside, making for a relaxing moment here in June, in front of the Spanish animal channel on the tube. Right now there are big elephants on display from India. There are people who have taken charge of these animals and seem quite comfortable steering them with their bare feet from above. There was also some tribal dancing with sticks at a night activity meant to bring some good fortune to their relationship with the elephants I am guessing. I have not seen any direct references to Ganesha (the elephant looking Hindu deity of good fortune) but it would seem appropriate given the animal on hand. I am not a Spanish speaker so this makes it a bit more difficult to understand what is being said. When I was in India I came across a couple of elephants, but never rode one. I can't say they looked too happy, at least the one I saw dressed up in a town. Painted and decorated for display, and relatively small as compared with African elephants, the one elephant I came very close to seemed calm and somewhat dignified. Although I didn't stop to ask. Compared to the other animals starving on the streets, the elephant looked quite healthy. Other animals roamed around eating scraps wherever they could find. Even the sacred cow ate plastic bottled and bags. Dogs, goats, some pigs, all had ragged exteriors and seemed on edge for survival at times. Other times everything seemed to be just as natural and copacetic as possible, giving that 'all is right in the world' feeling while seeing all these creatures coexisting in such an human environment. The monkeys never seemed to be in peril, as they were not shy about taking what they wanted.
The walls in this living room remind me of India in a way, as the baba saddhus wore bright orange and in general I have heard the color been described as being of the nature affecting psyche. There are different takes on the use of color affecting emotions and mental states, such as blue being good for learning, green calming, etc. The baba saddhus, although I am not sure about the details of the culture, were from what I observed, spiritually invested men who shared a kind of fraternal support system with each other while living in material simplicity. Often taking journeys individually, and making their home wherever they are, a small polished stainless steel pail usually served as a container for asking offerings from the general public. I read somewhere that according to reincarnation beliefs that often older men having fulfilled duties to their families will go off on a spiritual journey in preparation for the next life. But also I have seen young boys dressed and living in the saddhu way of life, and I am not sure if this is like the Dalai Lama reincarnation thing where an old soul is detected in a new born or whatnot, or if it is just somebody's son. I would lean on the side of the latter, but really have no idea. Circumstances often create new realities, and one thing that India is full of are new realities.
That bright orange singes memory into the the soul, but has both bright and dark qualities. I would like to know why the saddhus choose this color.
One thing that never fails to amaze me are the endless interconnections between people, places and time that occur endlessly, but we only observe now and again. Like the starting of this blog was choosing the color of the living room, which thankfully made finding an available blog name quick and easy. Then the tv came on with the India elephant stuff, creating a broad platform for me to remember and wonder aloud in type.
I have been wanting to start one of these for a while. We'll see how it holdsup. Right now is an exciting time in life- getting ready to get marriedto Bonnie this summer, living in Brooklyn, and enjoying the weather.
My friend Craig had told me I should start a blog about gout, as I was recently informed that it is possible I have gout. Gout blog may be coming to a theatre near you, but I have not checked into whether there is already one out there. It would be kind of funny and maybe even informative. Its a new world out there for me and gout. Its not fun to have to watch what you eat so much, but probably healthy to do. Anyway, I hope I don't have such a medieval sounding disease that is painful. I was vegetarian and skinny in India, and gout wasn't even on the map of my reality. But like India, eating rich foods and drinking alcohol without regular exercise has led to a new reality for me- one of gout in daily life. That would be the darker shade of orange. Like the Halloween orange of trick, not treat.
C'est la vie. (After I wrote this a French speaking Marie Joseph Paul? came on tv for the cartoon about American revolution) ahh, the endless synchonicistical connections. Somewhere a bird is flying. Another place a man dropped a chili-cheese dog on his pants.
What an amazing place the world is.
The walls in this living room remind me of India in a way, as the baba saddhus wore bright orange and in general I have heard the color been described as being of the nature affecting psyche. There are different takes on the use of color affecting emotions and mental states, such as blue being good for learning, green calming, etc. The baba saddhus, although I am not sure about the details of the culture, were from what I observed, spiritually invested men who shared a kind of fraternal support system with each other while living in material simplicity. Often taking journeys individually, and making their home wherever they are, a small polished stainless steel pail usually served as a container for asking offerings from the general public. I read somewhere that according to reincarnation beliefs that often older men having fulfilled duties to their families will go off on a spiritual journey in preparation for the next life. But also I have seen young boys dressed and living in the saddhu way of life, and I am not sure if this is like the Dalai Lama reincarnation thing where an old soul is detected in a new born or whatnot, or if it is just somebody's son. I would lean on the side of the latter, but really have no idea. Circumstances often create new realities, and one thing that India is full of are new realities.
That bright orange singes memory into the the soul, but has both bright and dark qualities. I would like to know why the saddhus choose this color.
One thing that never fails to amaze me are the endless interconnections between people, places and time that occur endlessly, but we only observe now and again. Like the starting of this blog was choosing the color of the living room, which thankfully made finding an available blog name quick and easy. Then the tv came on with the India elephant stuff, creating a broad platform for me to remember and wonder aloud in type.
I have been wanting to start one of these for a while. We'll see how it holdsup. Right now is an exciting time in life- getting ready to get marriedto Bonnie this summer, living in Brooklyn, and enjoying the weather.
My friend Craig had told me I should start a blog about gout, as I was recently informed that it is possible I have gout. Gout blog may be coming to a theatre near you, but I have not checked into whether there is already one out there. It would be kind of funny and maybe even informative. Its a new world out there for me and gout. Its not fun to have to watch what you eat so much, but probably healthy to do. Anyway, I hope I don't have such a medieval sounding disease that is painful. I was vegetarian and skinny in India, and gout wasn't even on the map of my reality. But like India, eating rich foods and drinking alcohol without regular exercise has led to a new reality for me- one of gout in daily life. That would be the darker shade of orange. Like the Halloween orange of trick, not treat.
C'est la vie. (After I wrote this a French speaking Marie Joseph Paul? came on tv for the cartoon about American revolution) ahh, the endless synchonicistical connections. Somewhere a bird is flying. Another place a man dropped a chili-cheese dog on his pants.
What an amazing place the world is.
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